Better than I anticipated...

The first time he spanked me was exquisite. Painful and pleasurable all at one time. Bare handed, no more than 15 minutes. He didn't want to push me too far too fast, he said. Even still, after 5 minutes the tears ran from my eyes and stained my cheeks and left wet marks on the sheets where my face was pressed into the mattress.

It hurt like shit.

Way, way worse than when I'd spank myself at home on Skype for him to watch. I thought I was hitting hard. I was very, very wrong. Hard for me, maybe. But he is a big man with big hands and a very strong swing. I ached. My ass burned. I cried like the little bitch That I am. And He fucking loved it.

He promised me a paddling the next night. Or rather...warned me of it.

The entire next day I was tingling with anticipation. We wandered the streets during the day, a completely polite and ordinary couple, going through their ordinary day (along with the occasional butt grab). But through every conversation we had and every sight we went to see, I felt a thrumming in my pussy and an ache in my ass. I couldn't wait to be beat me again. I needed to feel that sting.

When the time came, I was terrified. If his hand hurt as badly as it did, the hairbrush would be worse. Much worse. And it was. The first swing hit me and it took my breath away. And before I could catch it, there was a second and a third. He paddled away, taking the time between each blow to caress and soothe my aching ass before he swatted it again, making me jump and writhe.

"Come here and bend over the bed."

I obeyed, wiping my nose on my arm as I scrambled to the side of the bed. Already crying. Already aching. Already wishing for it to stop, but praying for it to continue. My mind was mixed up and I didn't know what to listen to. What to feel or what to think or what to say.

So I didn't. And the moment that I let my thoughts go and let the tears flow the way they wanted to, there was a sense of peace that washed over me. Despite my writhing and my kicking legs and my shuddering gasps, I was calm. I felt a beautiful silence wash over me. I felt safe. I felt secure. He made his marks on me, I felt whole. And the yearning for him echoed in my brain with every blow from his brush.

I need this. I need this. I need this.

First of all, this is excellently written. I can feel exactly what you are feeling in the moment. Thank you for writing it.

I tell this story a lot because it's true. When Doc and I first met we went over our limits, soft ones and hard ones. One of his hard limits was no spanking. He didn't want to be spanked because he said it didn't do anything for him. He also said he would never spank me because he was raised to never lay a hand on a woman...........ever! This was something I thought I wanted though, but alas, he just couldn't do it no matter how hard I wanted to be spanked by him.

After the "event", we had to find different things to do besides medical fetish stuff. Doc was stressed out to the max. I decided that I was going to try spanking on him even though he said it was a hard limit. I knew him well enough by this point that I thought I had a pretty good handle on what he wanted, but more importantly what he needed as those are two very different things sometimes.

So I started planning. I bought all black leathers with boots and garters with black hose too. I also bought a black riding crop. I was ready but was he? The time came, I was nervous and he didn't have a clue as to what I was planning. So I tied him up standing up. He was naked. I slipped into the bathroom and changed into my dominatrix outfit while he waited for his Dom.

I smacked him with the crop, easy at first then worked my way up to some pretty hard swats. I left him out of breath and with a very very hard dick. When I was done spanking him we fucked and fucked hard. It was one of my absolute favorite times actually and that's saying a lot as well.

From that point forward spanking became a thing for us, mostly him. He was still struggling with the idea of spanking me. I finally convinced him to start. Now almost 10 years later it still is one of our most favorite activities. It's gotten to the point that we crave being spanked from each other, we need it, and we beg each other for it.

We have come a long way and we have done so with each other and because of each other. We trust each other 1000 percent. But the lesson here is like the old adage, don't knock it till you try it. You might just be surprised, and we so were.

Mashie

Thanks for sharing! I hope I can find a connection like that at some point! And it's true, you just never know til you try it.

In regard to agreeing and accepting a spanking, if admintered to you by the “right” person this experience frequently results in an inner connection and a degree of friendship that is difficult to accurately describe. A bond seems to occur and as mentioned although painful, you begin to look forward to this experience and even feel a void within yourself without it. Unfortunately, general society has become so overly judgmental about almost everything those who truly understand the enjoyment from a sincere spanking friendship have to be discreet and even careful. However, as WE all know here at Zity, when a true spanking friend is found, you will experience a friendship and an inner feeling, (as well as the one on your butt), that is wonderful to share over and over and over,,,,,,,,,,,,

RaytheGent