I'm a big fan of the band Kings of Leon. When I heard their song "Sex On Fire," my mind immediately turned it into "Bottom On Fire" and went from there. I hope you enjoy the spankified version, sung from a top's point of view.
Bottom On Fire
Stand in the corner, don't make a sound
You know I'm watching, I'm watching
All the commotion, the spanking play
Has the neighbors talking, talking
You, your bottom's on fire
The smack of the leather, the swish of the cane
I keep on spanking, on spanking
Your lips are open, Yes Sir's spilling out
Feels like you're trying, you're trying
You, your bottom's on fire
Consumed with what's to transpire
Hot as a fever, louder you moan
Harder I spank you, spank you
If it's not forever, if it's just tonight
Oh, it's still the greatest, the greatest, the greatest
2011 has been an interesting year. A lot of ups and downs. That's life, I guess. I don't really have enough content to write a whole post for Thanksgiving purposes but will preface it here. I'm thankful for my husband and all that he does for me. I love you. I'm thankful for my family. I'm thankful for my SCONY family and that you all let me be a part of it. I'm thankful for all my wonderful friends who let me cry on their shoulders, rant and curse until I have nothing more to say, put up with my incessant text message countdowns, and laugh at my bad puns. I'm thankful to all who read this blog and interact with me. I'm thankful to the Just Born people for making Peeps available 4 times a year, though they really should be available at Thanksgiving too, because I'm thankful for Peeps. (I'm officially adding "Peeps" into the post tags. How had I not already done that?)
My topic today is the funny side of fantasy vs. reality. Ever since the internet age came about for this spanko gal, I loved to read stories. Fiction is always so... perfect. All those thoughts you have in your head melding together to create this ideal scenario. That's nice for stories, but it doesn't always translate to real life. Not MY real life anyway, lol. Things happen and some of these things I think back on and laugh. I'll share a few.
Fantasy: He looks at me, drawing me in with his gaze, and I shiver from knowing what is to come. He pulls my pants down in one swift motion and places me across his knee.
Reality #1: There ISN'T one swift motion for pants removal! Maybe if one were to wear a skirt then it is flipped up easily but pants come in all types with all sorts of button arrangements. I had a pair of jeans that was one of those 2 button deals, kind of like dress pants have where the one button is above the zipper, but the other is underneath and an inch or so away on an inner tab. This resulted in the top reaching to remove my jeans and after a minute of fumbling gave up and told me to take them down myself.
Reality #2: In real life, people keep things in their pockets. I am one of those people. This was also a pants removal situation. When they did come undone and were pulled down, my phone and keys went flying across the hard floor, the phone completely coming apart and battery hitting the wall. D'oh! Imagine that warranty call into T-mobile. "How was it damaged? Uh... it clattered from my pocket when some mean top yanked my pants down to spank me! No, you're not on Candid Camera... What the hell is Candid Camera?"
Fantasy: He holds me in place across his knee, delivering a flurry of hard swats to my bottom. "Are you going to behave, young lady?" he asks as my bottom quickly turns pink. "Yes, sir!" I plead.
Reality: Sometimes I can't stop laughing. I don't know why, I just can't help it! Then it goes something like this: He holds me in place across his knee, delivering a flurry of hard swats to my bottom. "Are you going to behave, young lady?" he asks as the swats continue. "Yes, sir" I giggle. SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! "Do you think this is funny?" he asks as the swats land harder. "No, sir!" I'm still giggling. "You won't be finding it very funny soon," he growls. SMAAAACK! SMAAAACK! It's not funny! Why doesn't he believe me??
Fantasy: "Don't you move," he says firmly in my ear. I lay across the bed as he retrieves the strap. The butterflies in my stomach go wild as he takes his time. Swoooosh THWAP! Swoooosh THWAP! The strap connects with my tender flesh. "Am I getting through to you yet?" he asks. "Ooooww yes, sir!"
Reality: I've gotten hiccups mid-spanking before. Boy, was that annoying. When I get hiccups, they can last for over an hour and tend to be quite loud and noticeable. I've heard all the supposed remedies. Drink water. Eat a tablespoon of peanut butter. Hold your breath for 1 minute. Have someone jump out and scare you. (Yes, that was a real suggestion.) Maybe that one works the opposite way too that a spanking can take my breath away and give me hiccups? Back to the above scenario. Swoooosh THWAP! Swoooosh THWAP! The strap connects with my tender flesh. "Am I getting through to you yet?" he asks. "Ooooww HICCUP yes HICCUP sir!" That's pretty much how it continued for a few minutes, hiccuping throughout the strapping. You think he would've been nice enough to just stop asking me questions.
Fantasy: The spanking eases up and eventually concludes. He runs his fingers across my back for a few moments as he tells me it is over and I can relax. He pulls me up off his lap and holds me close.
Reality #1: Anyone who has been around me for more than 10 minutes knows that I'm not exactly graceful. Some coordination skills may be lacking. Okay, not may be. Are. I'm actually amazed that I have yet to fall on my freaking face when trying to get up off someone's lap. That is probably mostly due to helpful tops who try and help untangle my jeans from around my shoes before I try to stand up. I've come close though. Bad traction boots + hard wood floors aren't the best OTK combination. Having your feet in socks + kicking on the carpet gets a bit slippery too. Why are my feet reaching the floor? Well, I'm tall.
Reality #2: I have certainly acquired post-spanking injuries, though. Once after a party, I did semi gracefully get up, we hugged, and then as I walked out of the booth, BAM! I smacked my head right into a wall-mounted speaker. That really hurt plus there were at least 10 people in close proximity who noticed and I wanted to die from embarrassment. It happens. It happens to me a lot, lol. I must say though, if anyone is looking for tips on how to take your mind off a throbbing bottom, I highly recommend running into a wall.
Happy Thanksgiving everyone! Be thankful that you are probably less clumsy than me! ;-)
R.E.M. shares my somber feelings of coming back home. But back to the party update, I was only halfway through the night in my previous post here. My friend Y who had shown up unexpectedly that night finally caught up with me to play. He is one who can really do me in but was pretty nice to me this particular evening knowing I had a lot of appointments. We went into a booth and he bent me over a chair and spanked me with his hand. He had a whole bag of super evil implements with him (translation- metal) but fortunately we did not get into those on this occasion. My halfway through the night marking was assessed and I gave him a big hug, although I was still griping about the surprise.
I tried to wander throughout the room untouched and catch up with people to chat. I'm afraid I failed at being able to talk with everyone as long as I wanted to, but I did try. While I was sitting and talking with my friend S, Mr. R once again appeared and went for my OTHER ear this time. Talk about tops wanting to keep things even... As I was pulled around the room with him still grasping my ear, we found out that all the booths were occupied and I was finally released as we stood and waited for one to open. He showed me his evil little hairbrush that up until now I have not been introduced to and said that this wasn't the big hairbrush. Have I mentioned that I hate hairbrushes? Maybe that is just assumed. Who doesn't, really? (A funny side note, I just discovered today that "detached ears" was one of the search keywords that led some poor unsuspecting person to this blog.)
An area became open and I was led into the booth. I went across his knee and he spanked me with his hand and then the evil "little" hairbrush. I was not too sad about not being previously introduced to this thing. Owww! For anyone who doesn't already know this, I'll let you in on a little secret. Size is deceiving in the spanko world. It can be for tops and certainly for implements. If a bunch of things are laid out in front of you and you have to pick one, going for the smallest is not necessarily the best choice. Small wood things have a greater ability to get into every little area on your bottom and thinner leather things just sting even worse than the wide ones. Just an FYI. I'm here to help and inform. After my bottom was thoroughly stinging from the hairbrush, he let me up and gave me a hug. "We're still not done," he said. Shit. I thought that, didn't say it out loud of course. My brain works occasionally.
Excluding the damage to my bottom, my biggest injury of the night was about to occur. I was in the rest room and you know how they have those hooks inside the stall door to hang your purse on or whatever? My arm scraped right into it and it was just an insta-bruise. A big one. It freaking hurt. If Maggie Gyllenhaal ever complains about me ripping off her movie character for my scene name, I will from then on just go by Miss Instabruise. After damaging my arm, I returned to the party and caught up with Mr E. and we went back to play. I went over his knee and he spanked me with his hand. The soreness had certainly set in at this point. We hugged and parted and I returned to socialize.
I had been chatting with B throughout the night. We had met in person for the first time at this party but had been talking online for a while prior. I was happy to finally meet and he was super nice. We went back into a booth to play and I went across his knee and he gave me a longer hand spanking. It was quite a relaxing scene. We talked a bit more and then returned to the rest of the party. I talked a bit with L who I hadn't seen since the previous year at one of the Scony weekends, so it was nice to catch up a bit with him. We went back to play and when I was over his knee he commented that it looked like I hadn't played much. Ha! Funny guy... He gave me a spanking by hand as a reminder of why I should behave and I quickly agreed with him.
The night was winding down with the party closing time approaching. I was already starting to feel down about having to say a lot of goodbyes soon. I hate goodbyes. I was standing and chatting with a few people when Mr. R found me. He didn't go for the ear this time, though maybe if I had a third one he would have. Have to keep things even, you know. He grabbed my hand and led me into a booth. I was bent over a saddle and so quick that I never know it's being removed, he spanked me with his belt. Have I mentioned that I hate belts? Even more than hairbrushes, I think. Especially that one. I had a belt on that night myself and usually I purposely don't wear one at a party because I don't want it used against me, literally. But I think I would've preferred my own at that point. Back to the size issue. Mine is wider and I assume it would be softer. His is narrow and stingy and evil. The belting concluded and as we hugged he said that we were done for tonight, but still not done. Shit. Again.
For anyone trying to keep count, that was 10 times that I played at this party. Including the scene from earlier in the day, that turned out to be 11 times in less than 24 hours. Certainly a personal record. I feel like this post should have a disclaimer. Don't try this at home! Lol. I swear, I really am not a hard player. Any reputation as such is quite undeserved. Everyone I play with is really good at respecting my limits and personal tolerances. I'm sure I'm more in the light to middle range tolerance wise and they could inflict much worse. I'm getting off track here but just want to assure any worried parties that I was totally okay and got what I wanted. Alright, back to the recap. The party was over and many of us stayed to help take things down and get out of there. I said my goodbyes and as a note to Mr. G who gives me crap about crying, I did NOT even cry this time. I was close with a few people, but honestly everything went so fast that night that I don't even think my emotions had time to settle.
We left and got something to eat as I commented on how ridiculously hard the seat at the diner was. I don't care that it was a cushioned booth, it was HARD! After that, we went back to Mr. G's. This was the first chance I'd had to check out my bottom in the mirror and all that was heard throughout the apartment was Holy shit! on my part. Yes, I was well marked. I always am so really I should expect it, but actually seeing it always surprises me a bit. I was pretty exhausted at this point so crashed about as soon as my head hit the pillow.
The next day I was able to hang out with a group of friends which was a lot of fun. This was the day the tears would come. On more than one occasion. I had my final scene of the weekend with Mr. R. It can be hard to compare one scene to the next, especially as time has passed, but I think I can honestly say it was the most severe spanking I've ever had. Because it was of a more personal nature to me, I'm not going to go into all the details. I know, I'm a tease. Sorry. I will say that it was my first experience ever having soap in my mouth. Blech! That is freaking horrible. Not something I care to revisit. I had to keep pieces of it in my mouth throughout the whole spanking and was scared that I was going to swallow it. Is there such a thing as soap poisoning? It involved the *big* hairbrush, a cane, and the FES aka strap from Hell. I cried. I can count on one hand how many times that has ever happened during a spanking. It ended with a big hug and a clean slate. I liked that part.
I also got to play with M that day and was reminded of my dislike for particular leather paddles. It certainly provides even coverage, I must say. Dinner was eaten, pianos were played (I rule at Heart and Soul) and hand signing skills were refreshed. I also spray painted some Peeps. It's a long story about a not so well thought out plan. The evening was drawing to a close and another round of goodbyes arrived. I cried. Again. Then we headed back to Mr. G's to try to catch up on some rest. The next day he and I went to Jersey to visit a friend. It was really good to see her and had been a while. I'm glad we had a chance to catch up. We went back to the city and I bought my first ever lottery tickets. They both lost. :-( I was way too optimistic about my chances on that. Lol. How else will I ever afford a second home out east? Mr. G and I played once that day as I was introduced to some evil silicone-like kitchen utensil. I've mentioned a lot of things being evil in this post. Don't let that take away from the meaning. They are all evil.
Then it was time to pack and head to the airport. Back home, back to work the next day. Blah. It was a great trip. Short, but totally worth it. I miss my friends. April is a long way off. Ugh. Thank you to all who added to a really fun weekend and all who put up with me. If you are reading this Mr. G, a special thank you for the lodging, the rides, the spankings, and the laughs. You're still a grumpypants though. ;-) Thank you to all of you for reading. That is all for this adventure.
I'm back! Friday night I flew out to NYC to attend the SCONY party on Saturday. I was a bit concerned about going into things still getting over being sick and tired as hell, but an hour into arriving as my abs turned sore with laughter I forgot all about it. Yes, I said abs. The rest wasn't sore... yet. A funny side note, when I checked my bag to head to NYC, the ticket agent went into the usual spiel about "Are there any items that are hazardous or dangerous in your bag?" I said no of course, but smiled to myself and thought "uh, hazardous to who? There's a pretty large bathbrush in there..." Kevin James, in one of my favorite stand up routines, talks about how the questions one is asked at the airport makes him feel like an idiot. "Do you know what's in your bag, sir?" "Um....no... I tied a sock around my eyes and packed with my feet. I'm thinking hot dogs and gunpowder?"
My friend Mr. Grumpypants, I'll call him Mr. G for short, picked me up from the airport ungodly early on Saturday morning after my red-eye flight. We got some breakfast and headed back to his place where I was greeted by my favorite Canadians, D and Mr. B, who were staying with him also. I beat them on the mileage traveled to be there that weekend but they had made quite the trek themselves, driving almost 14 hours to attend. We all caught up and laughed and laughed, (see aforementioned abs comment) but eventually I crashed to take a nap. I'm not bionic like some of the tops, after all. I got ready for the party that night and we drove out to the city to the party venue. I always find it funny when it takes nearly 2 hours to get somewhere, which to me is a really long time to be driving, but New Yorkers will say "Wow, we made really good time. There was no traffic." Uh, what? No traffic? I've yet to be in New York and see anything I'd consider "no traffic." Lol. But I digress.
We made "good time" and arrived about 6:00. Mr. G parked the car while D, Mr. B., and I headed in. I brought Halloween Peeps for the snack table and we set all our stuff down and soon the hello hug-fest began. I'll tell you a secret. I'm not a spanko at all. I just have a hug fetish and found that with this type of group my needs would be met. Lol. Okay, I'm kidding. I'm there for both things. And I certainly got plenty of both this weekend... Back to the story. There were hugs all around as I excitedly caught up with friends and helped set up for the party. Ms. M and Mr. R arrived and I greeted both of them and went off to badly attempt to put together some of the cubicle play space areas. As I was doing that, in walked my friends K, S, and Y. I may have knocked over the cubicle I was attempting to build. This was a surprise as I hadn't seen Y since April. He has this habit of showing up places and surprising everyone and I do NOT like surprises. Plus I had talked to him the week before and specifically asked "you're not just going to show up at the party unexpectedly are you?" Uh huh. My first reaction was to maybe punch him, but I love the guy so I was nice and gave him a hug instead. I was really thrilled to see him and everyone else. I knew the night was going to go by much too fast.
This particular weekend had quite a bit of build-up going on prior to my arrival. Okay, the build-up was mostly on my part. I like the anticipation. Some people were just out to get me. I don't know what it is with me and tops but there's just something about me that seems to set them off sometimes. I have no idea why. I'll watch someone else interact with certain tops and things are all nice and cordial. Then I make a comment and nearly have my head taken off. A bystander said "Wow, so-and-so IS mean to you!" Well yeah, did you think I was lea-xaggerating? Lol. (Copyright pending on that word.) Anyhow, I knew that some people were really going to get me this time around. I'd been sending daily texts to some of my friends with an ongoing list of "Top 15 Reasons Not To Kill Lea" prior to the trip. I must say that they were totally valid reasons but do you think that helped me? Yeah, not so much. My friend P arrived at the party and she had little slips of paper she handed out to people that each had one of my reasons on it. Awesome. The remainder of the night under my nametag, I had the #1 reason which was "It's MORE evil to leave her alive so you can beat her again and again." Hey, a girl's got to appeal to a top's evil side. Or shall I say only side? (Totally don't get why they are after me...)
Before even getting to the party, Lea The Magic Marker was at it again. Mr. G and I had played earlier in the day and from a hand spanking I had already developed a speckling of bruises. Some people swear that with increased frequency and/or severity of play that bruising doesn't happen anymore but that's just never been the case for me. It's really annoying. There's a reason that my bottom inspired the color "Rea-lea Purple" to be added to the Crayola line. At the party, I played with Mr. B, my favorite Canadian top. This is where he'll say "I'm the only Canadian top you know." Yes, but that doesn't make it any less true, Mr. B. He'd hoped to get me before I was bruised this time but it was too late for that. Still early on though for what was to come. We went into one of the play spaces and I went across his knee as he spanked me with his hand. I quickly learned that the gym like floor of the center plus the lack of traction on my boots would prove to be interesting. Thank God I didn't end up sliding my feet far enough to knock over the whole cubicle. That so would happen to me. Lol. There may have been some reminders to be nice and ease off the Canadian jokes. But Canadian jokes are just funny! We hugged and I returned to socialize.
I knew I was going to have to be really careful with pacing myself at the party because there was going to be a lot of activity in a very short period of time and I'm not used to that. I'm certainly not a hard player, any reputation otherwise is completely undeserved. Lol. I caught up with my friend Mr. A. He gave me my first caning back in September which I wrote about here. I'd been wanting to try the canes again but unfortunately there wasn't time at this party, nor did I have much of my butt left by the end of the night. We went back into a play space and I went over his knee and received a hand spanking. This was a "nice" spanking on his part. Note to other bottoms- If a top ever says they were going "easy" on you and you sigh loud enough to inflate a hot air balloon, they tend to want to show you a comparison to prove you wrong. I didn't sigh in this particular instance, but just a side note. We hugged and parted and I tried to socialize a bit more. Mr. L had arrived and became aware of my contribution to the snack table which he wasn't too happy about. He hates Peeps, don't ask me how someone could dislike such cute sugary goodness, and had said prior to the party that if he saw them there I was in for it. Well, what can you do? If I go somewhere without Peeps, people would be asking if I was alright. He pulled me behind a curtain and bent me over a chair. I received several smacks with his hand to account for each box of the aforementioned cute sugary goodness.
I returned to chat with folks. I will mention here to all those who I didn't get that much time to talk with, I'm really sorry! I feel bad but there just was nowhere near enough time in the night to spend a good amount of time with everyone. I complain that the weekends go too fast and those last for 5 days, not 4 hours. Anyway, if I missed you, I apologize. Message me privately and I will tell you who is to blame for that. Lol. As I was talking with a few people, Mr. R appeared and went right for my ear and led me back to a booth by the aforementioned ear. Oww. My hair is never any protection, he just has some abnormal radar for locating ears. I went over his knee and he spanked me with his hand, making sure I knew that this was just a warm-up and we were nowhere near finished. Gulp. No, no we weren't.
Bonnie of My Bottom Smarts, aka Queen of the Spanking Blogosphere, has declared today the 6th annual Love Our Lurkers Day. It is an event dedicated to appreciating and recognizing our silent readers. Everyone is welcome to leave comments. If you're waiting for an invitation, this is it! So if you've been reading somewhere out there, please feel free to post a comment or ask a question. And to all those who regularly comment, you're appreciated. :-)
My blog statistics show that about 1 in 15 readers comment so I know there are more of you out there. Please feel free to join in! I'd love to hear from you and am happy to answer any questions. Share what brought you to this blog, what you like/don't like about it, your outlook on adult spanking, or just say hello. If you want me to talk about Peeps less, well, you can keep that to yourself. ;-)
I started Lea's Corner back in February and have really enjoyed writing here. I didn't know what would come of it at first but just wanted somewhere to put my thoughts down in one place. It's also proven an effective memory tool for those moments that may otherwise get lost in the shuffle of my head. It's been a lot of fun and I hope it's been enjoyable to all of you as readers, whether it's made you think about something or just laugh out loud. Thank you for giving me a few minutes of your day and for all your feedback. It is truly appreciated.
Tomorrow night I'll be flying out to NYC for the SCONY party on Saturday. I'm very excited but have also been told by some that I'm very dead. O_O This will be my first party in the city, though I've attended many weekends. Looking forward to seeing good friends and meeting some new faces. And possibly hands... ;-) I'm sure it'll go by all too quickly before I have to fly home Monday. My phone is the least smart of the smartphones, but I'll reply to any comments left beyond Friday night as quickly as possible while I'm away. Have a good week, everyone!
To those outside of our spanking lifestyle, what we do could incorrectly be perceived as abuse. I wanted to talk a bit about that to reiterate the all important issue of consent. I've touched on some of this before in this post here, but I feel it is important and worth repeating.
This excerpt is from Ms. Margaret Davis' article on Play Vs. Abuse, found on the SCONY website.
The difference between Dominance/SubmissionPlay & Abuse
D&S: A D&S scene is a controlled situation. A: Abuse is an out-of-control situation.
D&S: Negotiation occurs before a D/S scene to determine what will and will not happen in that scene. A: One person determines what will happen.
D&S: Knowledgeable consent is given to the scene by all parties. A: No consent is asked for or given.
D&S: The bottom has a safe word that allows him/her to stop the scene at any time for physical or emotional reasons. A: The person being abused cannot stop what is happening.
D&S: Everyone involved in the D/S scene is concerned about the needs, desires and limits of the others. A: No concern is given to the needs, desires and limits of the abused person.
D&S: The people in the D/S scene are careful to be sure they are not impaired by alcohol or drug use during the scene. A: Alcohol and drugs are often used before an episode of abuse.
D&S: After a D/S scene the people involved feel good. A: After an episode of abuse the people involved feel bad.
These are some of the qualities I've observed in a good top. They are stern but calm. At times, disappointed but not reacting in anger. Strict but controlled. Firm but caring.
I have shared various real life stories on here where I am led by the wrist and pulled over someone's lap or even yanked by the ear. To some that may sound awful, but NOTHING has ever happened that was not within my limits. I do have different limits with different people and all who I interact with are absolutely respectful of that. If they weren't, I would not still be playing with them. There's been a lot of joking with some of my friends lately about how "dead" I'm going to be at an upcoming party. One of my friends said that I'm only as dead as I want to be. And she was absolutely right.
Sometimes in the moment I may feel a bit resistant to what is happening, but it still comes down to consent. If I really do not want something to be happening, I will say so or safeword and know it will be respected. (You can see my previous post about safewords here.) I'm speaking from a bottom's perspective but the same applies to tops, of course. Both parties have to be consenting and either can opt out of anything they are not comfortable with and it should be respected.
Zelle of No Domme Blonde posted something a while back that really stuck with me. She wrote, "I'm in control but I choose to put you in charge." You can find that great post of hers here. To me, there is no difference whether you're dealing with a casual play partner at a party or someone you are in a relationship with. The underlying consent is always still in play. If I truly told my husband that I didn't want to do this anymore, that would be the end of it. And the same goes for him. It is a two-way street.
Sara of Finding Sara recently wrote a great post about mutual trust and respect that you can read here. It touches on the concept of the two-way street. One has to earn the other's trust and respect but also reciprocate that for it to work. When a top makes me feel safe and cared for and is respectful of my limits, it actually makes me more willing to possibly push my limits a bit or try things I didn't think I normally would because I do trust them. Funny how that works. If both parties do their part, it should lead to a win-win situation all around.
One final unrelated note, my friend Mr. A has just started up a blog of his own called A Consensual Spanker. He is an intelligent and interesting person who I look forward to reading more from. Check it out if you'd like. And welcome to the blogosphere, Mr. A!
Yes, you read that right. What, no faith in me? I actually got a "good girl" spanking this week. I honestly don't know that I've had one before, not that I can remember anyway. There doesn't always have to be a reason for a spanking, but this time it was that I had been too good. And I was more than okay with that, I'd really been needing one. Things have built up on me lately and an opportunity to let go was more than welcome.
It started off with J telling me to stand in the corner. This is a rare occurrence. For one thing, there really aren't many easily accessible corners at our place, there is just too much stuff everywhere. But it just isn't something I ever usually have to do. And trust me, I'm not complaining about that! I was surprised though. He told me to stand in the corner for 5 minutes and that I had that amount of time to come up with a reason as to why he shouldn't spank me. Hmm, reverse psychology? I had kind of been wanting this, so what reason could I really come up with? Have I mentioned before how long 5 minutes lasts when one is in the corner? Ah, that's right, I wrote about that here. So I guess I've had to be in the corner once or twice before.
After the full five minutes of feet shifting and putting my hair behind my ear for the hundredth time, he told me to turn around. "Have you thought of a reason why I shouldn't spank you?" he asked. "Uh, I don't know. Not really, I guess." "I don't know" is never a very good reply to a top, for future reference. "Alright, go get your hairbrush then and get over my knee." Gulp. Of course he was referring to the larger of my two hairbrushes, the stupid big paddle brush. What's with that name anyway? Did a spanko invent hairbrushes? All these "ouch-free" labels, can you say irony?
I begrudgingly got the stupid big paddle brush and laid across his lap as he sat on the bed. I tried to cover a hint of a smile as I got into position. "Do you think this is funny? You won't be smiling in a minute," he said. Okay, apparently I didn't cover it well. "No, I don't think it's funny," I replied as I tried to keep any sign of a smile out of my voice. He began to spank me with his hand over my skirt and asked if I knew why I was being spanked. Is this a trick question? Tops do that you know, asking you why you are in trouble and then you possibly mention things that they weren't even aware of. Beware of that trick! I said that I wasn't sure and he told me that I'd been too good. Well this was certainly a new reason.
He asked again, "Why are you being spanked?" as he flipped up my skirt and his hand delivered a volley of smacks to my bottom. "Oww, for being too good, sir," I replied. "That's right," he said, "do you think you can avoid getting the spankings that you deserve?" "No!" I said. "No, what?" he growled into my ear as the hairbrush came down hard across my cheeks. "OWW No, sir!" "That's better," he said. He pulled down my panties and the swats with the hairbrush continued to rain down fiercely on my bare bottom. My legs were kicking and I noticed that my left foot would curl up in anticipation before the next swat even landed.
After a while he slowed down and my bottom was stinging something awful. He set down the brush and ran his hand across my thoroughly pink bottom and rubbed my back. "Are you going to be too good again?" he asked. I just laughed, now this really was a trick question. He said that not answering was an acceptable answer in this case. I curled up on my side and laid my head on his chest. I'm not sure how long we remained like that but I eventually fell asleep. Something about having a well-warmed bottom makes sleep come so much easier.
