All that I am, all that I ever was…

I am more than my mental health. I am more than my homelessness. I am more than any one aspect of me. I am Addy. And this is…

Black and Blue (A Short Story)

WARNING_SPANKINGS

~ Author’s Note ~

This story was written around the months of April/May 2010 whilst I was sleeping rough in Melbourne.

During that somewhat brutal and bleak period of my life, I would often retreat into the world of erotica/consensual-spanking fiction in order to escape the chaos and pain that reigned in my life. The story was originally published on a now defunct blog I used to write under a pseudonym and is now published here because, well, to be honest, I kinda like it! :)

Disclaimer
This story references the non-consensual corporal punishment of teenagers as well as consensual punishment within a domestic discipline relationship. So if you find this offensive please assert your right to freedom of choice and move along. I would also like to point out that I do not agree or condone the corporal punishment and/or abuse of children in any way, shape, or form.

Black and Blue

rfm_copy

~ Part I ~
How She Knew What To Do

REBECCA: So, of all those spankings you got which was the worst?
ME: The worst?
REBECCA: Mmmhmm, lower, oh yes, right there…mmmmmmmm the one that had wee Alasdair Macintosh begging?

The lower request was her way of getting me to shift my massaging from her upper to lower back. My hands hit a tense knot in the small of her back sending her moaning dreamily. We were camped out in our tent amidst a sea of blankets and sleeping bags, stripped down and sore from a thirty kilometer hike. It was our first romantic getaway since getting together and all weekend she’d been plying me with questions about spankings past.

REBECCA: Well? Which one had Mr. Pansy begging the most?
ME: Watch it you.
REBECCA: I speak only the truth, my gorgeous but weak boy.

She was right, I wasn’t exactly ‘Mr. Tough as Nails’ when it came to spankings. I much preferred wiggling and squirming to stoic nothingness. It was all part of the experience for me but I’d never have called myself a pansy!

ME: And I ‘spose you took all your hidings without a tear, jerk or struggle.
REBECCA: Of course I did! What you implying, eh? Nuff ’bout me, Al’s ouchiest spanking…little bit lower…go…

I shifted my hands lower and worked her back sadistically. I knew exactly which it was, I’d known from the moment it happened; ever since that morning I’d had a deep and intense fear of the hairbrush.

ME: I‘d just turned thirteen, it was during the summer holidays and I was staying with my Aunt and Uncle.
REBECCA: Heather’s folks?

Heather was my cousin; older than me by a few years but one of the few people to treat me like an adult. We’d had a strong bond for years, mostly as a result of her and my sister who were similar ages. My sister loved me, Heather loved my sister, and so by the flow of harmonious happenstances that exist in family, Heather loved me. She’d go to bat for me if she could but would also tease mercilessly if the needs met.

ME: Yep. My folks had dumped me and Kerry on them for a couple of weeks whilst off in Europe on a second honeymoon so we were just hanging out, fucking around, you know, teenage stuff.
REBECCA: So who was it – Aunt, Uncle or Heather?
ME: Aunt.
REBECCA: You wanted it to be Heather didn’t you?
ME: No.
REBECCA: Liar.
ME: She loved me, she’d never have done that to me.
REBECCA: You love me and you do it plenty!
ME: That’s soo bloody different and you know it! Anyway…
REBECCA: Ally and Heather sitting in a tree…

At this point I gave a quick slap to her ruffled white undies causing a giggle and gleeful wiggle. I yanked them down to a moan of approval and began massaging her buttocks; rotating my hands over her round mounds.

ME: If you must know I did have a schoolboy crush on her but that’s all it was.
REBECCA: Told you.
ME: And if it hadn’t been for her this spanking would never have happened.
REBECCA: Naughty naughty girl. Did she get you a ‘whuppin?
ME: She got herself a ‘whuppin. Her mum had grounded her for sneaking out to a party so one day she was so sick of being stuck in the house she snuck off to shop while Isobel was out. She got home before her Mum and just went for a sunbake in the garden.
REBECCA: Naked?
ME: Bikini.
REBECCA: You were perving!
ME: I was accidentally observing her from my bedroom window.
REBECCA: Perving
ME: Anyway, I heard the front door slam, the dropping of bags in the hall and my Aunt’s footsteps heading outside. She flew into the garden and said to Heather – how dare you go out the house Missy, you’re grounded, don’t you deny it I saw you in the High Street! Heather was up like a shot, fighting with her usual spirit and oomph! Her Mum smacked her arse three times. First time I’d ever seen anyone be smacked! She couldn’t believe it, I couldn’t believe it and then my Aunt’s just dragging her protesting daughter into the house and up the stairs.
REBECCA: Ohhhh, I know that only too well.
ME: Their voices got louder and louder with the odd smack punctuating key words until my Aunt bellowed “Let’s see if Big Blue thinks you’re too old to go over my knee shall we Missy?” I’d never, not ever, heard my cousin so bloody terrified by two words…and I wanted to know why?
REBECCA: Big Blue?
ME: A wooden hairbrush that was blue like, like the Chelsea Footie colours
REBECCA: Eh?
ME: Chelsea, the football team…
REBECCA: EH?
ME: Like? Like your car then.
REBECCA: Why not just say that? Fuck. Something I see every-bloody-day or something I’ve never heard of before. God you’re annoying sometimes.
ME: So this wooden hairbrush coloured like the Becky-mobile was huge, and I mean huge.
REBECCA: Like an airplane
ME: No. Not like an airplane.
REBECCA: But you see what I did there?
ME: You’re heading for a spanking you are Little Miss Cheeky! It was a good twenty centimeters long, six of that the handle and the rest was this big oval head about six centimeters wide. Jet black bristles, peeling paint, couple of cracks. Man this thing was scary! When I got the story I was told Isobel’s mum had used it on her and when Heather was born it was passed down to Isobel, so in time, it’ll probably be passed on to Heather who’ll hopefully burn the bloody thing in a ritualistic ceremony! It had been called Big Blue ever since Isobel was a kid. I heard my Aunt dragging Heather into her bedroom and a drawer opening. Heather was fighting the whole time, knocking something off the table, begging, pleading, the whole nine yards and then this almighty smacking started followed by a surprised shriek from Heather.
REBECCA: You had to have peaked.

I eased off her legs and rolled her onto her back. She looked ravishing in the soft glow of sunset through the tent’s mesh windows.

ME: First female bare arse I ever saw. I crept up to my Aunt’s door making sure to open it without a sound. Not that you’d have heard a wee creak with what was going on. She’d dragged my cousin’s bikini down and was walloping her bare butt over and over with the brush. Not like abuse wallop just, man, she could smack that thing! Heather was sobbing and wriggling trying to get free. I remember thinking ‘is that what I look like?’
REBECCA: Nope, you’d be much worse.
ME: Yeah, like you’d know.
REBECCA: You nearly cried when you stubbed your toe on a tree last night!
ME: It surprised me!
REBECCA: A tree snuck up on you did it?
ME: Yes, it wasn’t there and then it was.
REBECCA: So a magic tree snuck up and decided to attack you – on a whim?
ME: Yes.
REBECCA: We should adopt it; we could make a fortune charging people to see the magic tree.
ME: Agreed, on the proviso we call it Bob.
REBECCA: Though don’t cross Bob otherwise stubbed toe and tears will surely follow for little pansies.
ME: Remind me again why don’t I hate you?
REBECCA: ‘Cause of these. And this. And my fat wobbly bottom.
ME: Beautiful spankable bottom.
REBECCA: Meh…so your Aunt caught you spying and decided to teach you a lesson?
ME: Not quite. My sister caught me. Took me to my room where I had to sit through this lecture on how it’s not nice to spy on people in situations like that; which kinda means there are situations where it is nice to spy on people. Whatever. She didn’t seem to get the irony, she’d seen me like that dozens of times. Eventually the spanking stopped and the house was silent apart from sniveling Heather. Kerry told me the next time she caught me spying she’d dob me in and I’d be on the end of that brush! For the next few days that event was all I could think about.
REBECCA: Her cute bottom, eh?
ME: I wanted it to be me.

I lent down and kissed between her breasts, sliding off her body and lying beside her. Absentmindedly I caressed her belly, fiddling with her vacationing pubic hairs.

ME: It sounds fucked but I just had this overwhelming need to feel that brush. I’m sick, aren’t I?
REBECCA: A little. But if what I thinks coming next you’re just fucking stupid!
ME: Which is?
REBECCA: That you…I dunno, orchestrated a hairbrushing through willful naughtiness?
ME: Mmmhmmm.
REBECCA: Fuck-King idiot!
ME: Two days after Heather’s hiding and I’ve been sent to my room for bratty behavior with the threat of Big Blue if I didn’t start behaving quick smart. There was fear but excitement as well, really bloody messed up, but I used that time to come up with the worst thing I could think of that would guarantee a trip over her knee.
REBECCA: Which was?
ME: I realized it had to be something I’d done wrong before, so went through all the times Isobel had been angry with me. There was this one time, angriest I saw her, when she’d caught Heather and I playing with her collection of antique china figures. She slapped us both on the hand and told us they weren’t for kids and that if she ever caught us with them again she’d tan our hides. She loved those things, I mean LOVED! Handed down from like three generations apparently. So I just thought…break one!
REBECCA: No?
ME: Yep!
REBECCA: Were you like, stoned?
ME: Just determined.
REBECCA: Nutcase.
ME: A brave and determined, possibly stoned, nutcase. The only problem was making it look like an accident.
REBECCA: Which was…?
ME: Happenstance. After breakfast the next morning I was watching TV in the lounge while the girls were upstairs getting ready to go out. Isobel was taking us all up town to see some show. She was doing a quick clean first and had the cabinet open to dust whilst telling me to stop lazing and start getting ready. When the phone rang, she put the figure on the table and left the room. I knew that if I was gonna do it this was my best chance! To this day I have always regretted it. It took me a while to build up the confidence but I leaned over and pushed it. It fell in slow motion, bouncing once, then smashing on the second hit and I just sat there; slowly becoming aware of what I’d done and that my Aunt was standing in the doorway watching everything. She went off like a bat from hell, pulled me off the couch and smacked me a half dozen times. I’d had this whole “accident” back up clause worked out but the spanking had already begun so what could I do? She’d seen me push the thing! All I could feel was her slapping hand, stinging warmth and her fuming voice telling me there was only one thing for it.
REBECCA: Big Blue?
ME: As soon as I heard those words I was torn. Half terrified, half thrilled. She started dragging me upstairs, my legs turning to jelly as I passed Heather who was wondering what all the commotion was about. Before I knew it I was on my aunt’s bed, flipped over her knee and this huge chunk of wood was whacking my arse while my cousin watched from the doorway. At one point I actually squirmed right off her lap! All she did was pull me up, whip off my belt, yank down my jeans and pull me back over for another six bastard strokes! Fuck! Me! What the hell had I been thinking?

Rebecca’s hand brushed comfortingly against my stomach. It felt safe, loving.

ME: I fought hard to keep my pants on but she hauled them down anyway, just as I knew she would and the first crack on my bare cheek…shit…I was howling! She pinned her legs over mine and then it really began. I honestly thought I was gonna die. I wouldn’t describe it as abusive; she was quite loving about it really, but fuck, if I’m a weakling pansy so be it, I cried! They streamed, almost without warning; snot pouring, throat coarse, cheeks flushed. At one point my bawling became hiccuping – all Isobel did was tell me to stop complaining and accept my punishment like a man. By the time she finished I didn’t think I’d ever sit again…my arse was just…
REBECCA: It’s okay sweetie.
ME: What the hell? What was I thinking? None of the spankings I’d gotten, not even with that f’ing slipper had made me react like that – and it was my fault, I’d done it deliberately. What the hell?
REBECCA: Curiosity, not just with the brush but all the things bubbling away that you didn’t understand.
ME: She gave me this huge hug and hoped I’d learned a valuable lesson. I couldn’t speak, just dashed past Heather into my room. It was soooooo red, purple bruising, rough to touch and so hot you could have fried a f’ing egg. Kerry and Heather were awesome, Heather came to check first and she was so lovely, then Kerry who was just as cool. We still went up town and I was so quiet and well behaved you wouldn’t believe!

For a while there was silence as we stared into each other’s eyes.

REBECCA: Better to have been spanked and blistered then never to have been spanked and blistered.
ME: You reckon?
REBECCA: If you hadn’t knocked that figure over how long would you have regretted it?
ME: It would have spared me the worst spanking of my life!
REBECCA: Exactly. If that spanking hadn’t happened the thought of Big Blue would have eaten away at you…you know it would so don’t argue! We always regret more passionately what doesn’t happen than what does. Seriously, what if I’d decided to go to Halifax instead of the mountains?
ME: What if I’d gone to uni and forgot about my traveling dreams?

She rolled over and snuggled her back up close to me, I hugged her tight, grateful for the closeness.

REBECCA: Where would we be then? Not here, that’s for sure. No kisses, no snuggles, no tent, no hikes, no cheeky mouse underwear.
ME: Mmmmm.
REBECCA: I’m sorry if I brought back shitty memories.
ME: Don’t be. I want you to know everything.
REBECCA: Even purple bottoms?
ME: Especially purple bottoms, it’s who I was, who I am.
REBECCA: A baboon. A cute wonderful awesome baboon that makes me all yummy and feeds me banana custard.
ME: You want banana custard?
REBECCA: Mmmhmm.
ME: I don’t have any.
REBECCA: Get me some?
ME: For breakfast.
REBECCA: Mmmmm. I’ve been there too you know, they say you never forget your first brushing.
ME: Evil fucking things.
REBECCA: Evil can be good sometimes.
ME: Not when you’re thirteen.
REBECCA: No. Definitely not when you’re thirteen.

~ Part II ~
How She First Tried to Deal With It

I was so used to scolding her that to have our positions reversed just made me smile. Her nose got all twitchy when she was angry and her hands never seemed comfortable. Similar to a bad actor who never knows what to do whilst performing, one minute they were wagging in my face, the next stuck rigidly on her hips. As she told me off I watched her chest beneath white blouse and indulged in the shapely curves hidden beneath her black skirt whilst wondering how I could take seriously someone whom I found so hot?

This was her first time being the ‘disciplinarian’ and as such it was more amusing then belittling. Her ‘strict’ tone and threats of ‘a good spanking’ were making me as hard as the day she’d first swatted my backside amidst a haze of alcohol and naked lust. Only today wasn’t play, it was supposed to be punishment, and however awesome Rebecca was she just wasn’t used to being the one dishing it out.

It had been her idea to instigate a domestic discipline element to our relationship. My reaction had been slight hesitation mixed with pure joy. I shared Becky’s view on discipline but was unsure how effective I could be at delivering punishment. An unease driven by my own desire to be punished; something I felt would impact on my ability. Though I adored being dominant myself, the switchity brat in me craved to be on the receiving end, so over several whiskys and a couple of pizzas we fought out an agreement that resulted in the situation being two-way.

So far she never had. I’d done things that would certainly have earned her a blistering but she’d always been forgiving, letting me off with a scolding or the ever annoying “silent treatment” that women tend to do so well. She lacked the confidence to punish me as I did her; on one occasion she had smacked me in the bathroom for flooding the place. Only she’d slipped as she went for a second slap and we’d splashed to the floor in hysterics. She was trying to do it, and I cherished her for that, I really did.

Standing there, watching her cute movements and business attired physique, I truly believed she would spank me this time.

A month ago I’d given up smoking, only, not really. I’d carried on behind her back. One minute telling her how hard giving up was and that I was elated about being unshackled from such a filthy habit – the next zipping down the 7/11 for a pack of smokes to enjoy while she was at work. Then, after she got home (and I’d showered, sprayed and minted) gone back to being non-smoker Al again. Sure, it was totally evil and deceptive, but at the time a far easier regime to make work than actually quitting.

The whole scheme succeeded flawlessly for weeks, until she came home early and found me sitting in the garden puffing on a Cameo. All the lies hit the proverbial fan and the slanging match (which lasted a good couple hours) was akin to a climactic apocalypse event. By the far the worst argument in our relationship thus far, but far from the worst we ever had.

I’m not surprised, nor am I happy with what I did. It was a totally conscious deception that I’m surprised she didn’t dump me over. Nor, should I point out, was it a deliberate attempt to be spanked. I did honestly try to give up smokes but failed and didn’t have the heart to tell her. So chose to lie to her instead. Smart move! As Jo would often say stupid idiot!

So here we were, hours after the dust had settled and true to our agreement I was going to be punished, for real this time…but god damn in her ruffled work clothes she looked so utterly ravishing!

“I don’t want to spank you Alasdair,” She said. “But what choice do I have? You have been lying to me for weeks!”

On the occasions I’d been over her lap for bedroom play I’d found it the most intoxicating place in the world; locked in that blissful paradise filled me with a heady mix of excitement, arousal and safety. Bending into position this day overwhelmed me with the same rush. My jeans were already down and her initial burst of spanks through cotton boxers made me giggle uncontrollably. Far from fiery pain they were like electrical shocks that did nothing but fuel my arousal. So much so that after I felt her palm strike bare skin I thought I’d lose control and explode in her lap.

Truth be told, I wanted her to punish me, so in addition to the arousal was intense frustration. My mind begging her to strike harder, to discipline me for what I knew had been an atrocious act. It was just like what had happened between us when I had begun disciplining her.

After a few minutes, with my bottom glowing pleasantly warm, she pushed me up and sent me to our room. Alone, aroused and desperate for punishment all I could do was do it myself. Regardless of my want I withheld from pleasuring myself until she came in looking sad and despondent. She sat quietly on the bed beside me, caressing my pink cheeks with a half hearted smile; looking for the entire world like she was going to burst into tears.

“Hey, no permanent damage,” I smiled.

“I’m sorry,” She said, which is when the first tears fell. “I’m shit at this,”

“Bollocks,” I watched her smirk at the word I knew she loved. “It was very painful, you were awesome. Very strict,”

“Bollocks,” The word so cute from her Canadian tongue. “You loved it,”

“Hey,”

“I wanted to punish you – you deserve it ya bloody liar – instead I give you a boner!”

She slid in next to me and quilted herself in my arms, her mind punishing herself more than she was me. The silence in the room was more uncomfortable than the warmth in my bottom, her soft tears dripping onto the pillow being the only sound.

“Do you want to find someone who can punish you?” She said after a while. “I’m useless, you should dump me,”

“Becky, that’s the last thing I want,”

“But you’re so good at it with me, and…and I know you want it, so why can’t I be that good with you?”

“Pra…”

“Bollocks,” She whispered, pulling me closer against her. “I’m just useless,”

I kissed her softly on her cheek and brushed a couple of tears away. I hated seeing her so sad; so out of sorts with her usual perky bratty self. I knew being dominant was hard for her and didn’t want her feeling so inadequate. Maybe I’d put too much pressure on her to be someone she’s not. Which raised the question could our relationship work if there was a part of me that wasn’t being satisfied?

As the thought of losing her filled my head I pulled her even closer, tightening my grip until she giggled for breath. I refused to let her go, just as she refused to be released. That question would have to wait, right now, I loved her, and that’s all that mattered.

My need for a punished bottom would have to wait – but not for long.

~ Part III ~
How I Tried To Help

I wrote the letter one morning on a warm autumn day under the shade of a giant tree in my favourite park. It was written on pink paper with a small cartoon whale in the right hand corner. He was balancing a canary on his head; as whales are often seen to do in the wild. The pen I used was my favourite blue Biro, long since dried up.

Dear Rebecca,

Seeing you so upset over not punishing me enough has been punishment enough. It hurts whenever I see you like this. To think of all that pain you carry inside for ‘letting me down’.

I wanted to write because I’ve found written words tend to remain in our hearts longer than those being spoken to us. Or is that just me?

I need to say one thing right off the bat – you have never let me down – though I feel sometimes that I let you down.

Since meeting you, whole new avenues have been opened up in my world. Feelings and emotions which I never knew existed have burst into my soul; all completely new, fresh, unique and exciting. I would never exchange that for anything in the world.

I know why you feel like you’ve let me down. I’ve never been able to understand my desire to be punished. My whole ‘switch’ side is something I have never understood and feel it would be much easier were I purely a Dom or sub. I adore being the alpha in our relationship to you, I cherish your brattiness and need for punishment. Every time I have you over my knee I feel complete, as if I was the person who should have you there and no-one else. Yet there are times when I do wish to be the one in that position, I wish I could explain it, my love, but I can’t, not yet. This curse of mine is buried so far within me that I don’t know what I need to do to work out why yet.

I’m eternally grateful that you’ve tried to grant me this wish. I know it’s hard for you to turn on a side that you’ve never accessed before, and I’ll understand if you don’t want to punish me in the future. I will – of course – keep showing you that your actions have consequences when needed!

It would be nice if you could spank me playfully, as you do, from time to time, to help fulfill this need of mine – but if even this is too much I’d rather do without than be without you.

I mean it when I say I love you, Becky, I want you to be happy in all things and I crave to be the one who brings you this happiness. If I can’t be, if being with me is too hard, then I’ll understand. If there is anything I can do to make things easier for you, to help in any way, I will do what I can.

My love for always and a minute, Al xxx

I met her for lunch and whilst she was powdering her nose, slipped the letter into her bag. For the rest of the afternoon I thought of nothing else until she came home, approached me silently and hugged me.

“I want you to be happy too, sillybear! It is hard for me but remember one thing young man. I’m not done trying to punish you! I will spank you again, and next time…I just need you to understand it may take me a while to channel my inner dominatrix, kay? I’m thinking a leather corset may help,”

“To the corset shop!” I barked with a little too much enthusiasm.

I didn’t hold out much hope, to be honest. We had a long chat that night whilst in the bath, trying to come up with options and possibilities. At one point it was suggested I could find my own disciplinarian for those moments I needed it. It was held as an option until after we’d tried a few paths ourselves. We recreated a couple of my childhood spankings, played strength games on each other’s buttocks and I gave her some lessons on how to ‘scold’ without coming across so adorably; they didn’t work!

Little did I know that in only a few weeks time, all of these discussions, lessons and tactics would be put to the test on my posterior.

~ Part IV ~
How She Finally Dealt With It

I was writing a short story in the garden on a calm and quiet Saturday when I habitually reached for a packet of cigarettes. I always liked smoking whilst writing, finding it helped focus my mind and concentration. I’d often ruminated on how this rush of nicotine focused my thinking in much the same way my childhood spankings had done. There were of course no cigarettes on the table, as like last time I had “given up” – only not 100% given up as I still smoked while she worked.

REBECCA: Looking for these?

I watched a half smoked pack of cigarettes wave from side to side in her hand. My top-secret only in dire-emergency pack I’d stashed behind the fridge (i.e. dire emergencies being mornings, afternoons, and evenings when she was out with friends or I snuck off for a ‘quiet stroll’!)

REBECCA: Thought I’d spend my day off cleaning the cesspit that used to be our kitchen and look what I found!
ME: I can explain.
REBECCA: Let me guess. They fell out of your pocket months ago…or…I know, maybe a small mouse resident to our fridge has developed a nicotine addiction!
ME: It’s a squirrel actually.
REBECCA: Don’t get cute with me little man! How many? When? And why did you lie to me…again?

The “little man” had thrown me. Generally I was only ever called that by my Mum; moments before my pants were pulled down and my bottom set alight. She’d remembered from my stories, what else had she remembered?

REBECCA: Three simple questions. Three simple answers. How many?

I had absolutely no idea what to say. Her tone wasn’t arousing, not even in the slightest. Even though her nose twitched it seemed less adorable and far more threatening.

REBECCA: Alasdair Nathan Macintosh! I asked you a question and you will answer it or so help me good I’ll spank you so hard you won’t be able to sit for a month!
ME: Twelve.
REBECCA: When?
ME: Over the last few weeks. I had one, this…this morning when you were in the shower.
REBECCA: And why did you lie to me again?
ME: I didn’t want to upset you. I’ve been trying really hard to give up, I have, I liked that you were proud of me. I’m sorry, I am, I’ll get rid of them. Done.
REBECCA: Have no doubts I’ll be doing that. I understand that giving up is hard Alasdair, quitting smoking is difficult. I’m not angry about that. I’m angry that for the second time in as many months you have deliberately lied to me! How am I supposed to trust you Alasdair?
ME: I’m sorry.
REBECCA: What am I supposed to do? Believe your apology for a second time and let you off once again? Would you do that to me? Would your Aunt have? Would your mother have?
ME (Quietly): No.
REBECCA: I didn’t hear you!
ME: NO.
REBECCA: What would your mother have done to her lying little man?
ME (Quietly): Spanked him.
REBECCA: I still can’t hear you!
ME: She would have spanked his bare bottom with her slipper.
REBECCA: Would you deserve that?
ME (Quietly): Yes.
REBECCA: The last time little man!
ME: Yes, Rebecca. I deserve one!
REBECCA: Very well. Go wait in the bedroom – now!

When she came in she closed the door and immediately snapped at me to stand. The kick in her voice had me on my feet in seconds. It was a different atmosphere to last time; less erotically charged, far rifer with fear and danger. She hadn’t given me a punishment spanking since the last failed attempt had sparked that letter and in turn discussion after practice session after lesson.

She gave me a once over and shook her head, beginning a scolding about my lack of honesty, destruction of trust and the like. She’d remembered well. As each sentence passed I couldn’t help but be impressed. Whether it was from the discipline spankings I’d given her, the various conversations we’d had or that she was just really really angry – she was no longer the sub masquerading above her station. She was my stern girlfriend, and every carefully chosen syllable filled me with dread of what was to come. If she kept this up I was either about to receive the discipline spanking I’d always craved from her…or receive the biggest let down of my life.

She walked over to the wooden chair I’d used so many times. I’d sat on that cushion so often with her squirming lap over my knee that now the tables were turned it seemed no-where near as entertaining. This time it was her bottom safely protected by that cushion whilst mine hung vulnerable in mid air.

The same cocktail of emotions overwhelmed me as I fidgeted into position, only now with a heady dash of trepidation. This nervousness proved warranted from the first smack; which struck hard, fast and low. My body absorbed it, my butt stinging beneath my jeans. For two whole minutes she spanked hard and slow, letting each smack sink in until I was fidgeting uncomfortably.

REBECCA: I’m not going to get through to you like this. Get those jeans off! Quickly!

With that tone I’d have done anything! I rose and fumbled with my belt, letting my jeans drop before I was back over her knee. The elastic tightened around my waist as she pulled the cotton away to peek at my cheeks.

REBECCA: Looks like we have a long way to go yet little man!

Immediately she began spanking and without the thick denim protection I felt them more; but couldn’t help notice they were lighter than before. They stung, believe me, but were far less severe than I’d expected from that first two minutes. After the same length of time she was caressing my cheeks, soothing the sting beautifully.

The disrobing of my bare behind was precise and deliberately slow. She knew my love of this moment and relished in inching them from my cheeks slowly before pulling them away at the end. I felt them slip to my knees as her hand once again caressed.

REBECCA: Looking a little better.

She rubbed a little more before smacking my bare flesh. Again, her hand stung deliciously but the nervousness of a solid spanking had gone as these were lighter still, impacting without the viciousness of her early blows. Part of me wanted to laugh in relief, the other scream in frustration; the whole of me wanting to light up a smoke to make her angry again! She would stop every few moments to rub my cheeks and by the end of the two minutes any fear of punishment had gone and I was caught between intense arousal, elation, frustration and annoyance. Those first two minutes had promised so much, but the last four…dammit!

REBECCA: Are you feeling sorry now little man?
ME: Yes Miss
REBECCA: Have you been spanked enough to know that lying is wrong?
ME: Yes Miss
REBECCA: Are you sure?
ME: Yes Miss
REBECCA: Very well, stand up.

I adore a warm bottom. Whether it is the glow of someone elses or the mind-focusing tingle of my own. My hands cupped the warmth of my cheeks and my body sighed with relief.

REBECCA: Did I say you could touch your bottom?
ME: No Miss

My hands released and cupped over my erection instead. She brushed her lap and stood up.

REBECCA: I’m very disappointed in you Alasdair. You seem to think lying is just a fun little game that hurts no-one. You lied to me two months ago and you lied to me about quitting. Again.
ME: I’ve learned my lesson. I have. No more lies.
REBECCA: Do you think I’m an idiot little man? Do you? Do you think I don’t realize that all that spanking did was turn you on?
ME: What?
REBECCA: It was a test little man and once again you lied to me. I could easily have spanked you harder on your underwear and bare bottom but I didn’t because I needed to know if you’d learnt your lesson, which you obviously haven’t! You told me I’d spanked you enough when we both know I did no such thing.
ME: But?
REBECCA: I gave you three opportunities to tell me the truth but on each occasion you told me what you thought I wanted to hear.
ME: I…
REBECCA: It seems we have a long way to go little man. If you’d told the truth I would have spanked you harder and it would be all over by now, instead, you leave me no choice.

She walked past me without so much as a glance and headed toward her underwear drawer. Her paddle was kept there and as her ruse sunk in I believed that’s what she was going to produce. Instead it was something far worse.

REBECCA: I’m glad you told me about Big Blue, Alasdair. It made me realize what I needed to do to get through to you.

As she turned I saw in her hand a black hairbrush, almost identical in size to Big Blue. The head was squarer and wider but the mere sight of it sent my mind spiraling back to those long intense minutes over my Aunt’s lap. The arousal fled my body like water from a drain.

REBECCA: This may not be the thing you’re most scared of but from the look on your face it isn’t far off. I’d hoped for a blue one, but in the end black had to do. Black and Blue, has such a nice ring to it, don’t you think?
ME: Rebecca, please, look. Spank me with your hand as much as you want but…
REBECCA: Turn around and place your hands on your chair.
ME: Rebecca. That thing’s gonna…
REBECCA: Hurt? This is a punishment little man, it’s meant to hurt! Believe me, when I’m through with you you’re gonna wish you’d never told a single lie in your entire life! Turn around and place your hands on the chair. NOW!

My God she was getting good at! For the first time since being bent over for my father’s belt I was scared, truly scared, of a spanking. Staring at the bright orange fabric of the chair’s cushion all I could think of was the red and purple bottom produced from my Aunt’s brush. Rebecca knew I hated the hairbrush…and that was the point! The things I’d craved were now mine and goddamn I didn’t want them anymore! I felt the wood tap my buttocks and then heard a faint rush of air.

CRACK!!!!!!! OOooowwwiiieeeeeeeeee!!!!!!! I felt my right cheek take a hard whack moments before an explosion of pain. SMACK!!!!!!!!!!!!! The brush bounced off my left cheek as the pain roared. OOOOOOOOOUUUUCCCCCHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!! I leapt up, grabbing my arse!

ME: Fuck! Jesus!
REBECCA: Does it hurt? Good! It’s meant to. Back in position I am NOT finished yet little man!
ME: Rebecca…
REBECCA: Now!

The sight of Rebecca with the brush, her breasts held tight in a pink T-Shirt blew my mind. The transformation from bratty sub to fear bringing top was complete, and the throbbing on my arse was enough to prove it.

SMACK!!!!!!! FUUUCKKKK! CRACK!!!!!!!! OOOOOWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWCCCCCCCCCCCCHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!! SMACK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! JESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSUUUUUUSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!! CRACK!!!!!!!!!!! NNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOooooooooooo!!!!

REBECCA: Much better. Stand up and face me and don’t think for a second about touching that bottom of yours.

The need to grab it was intense, my hands hovering over my cheeks but one look from her was enough. She tapped the brush in her hand, shaking her head.

REBECCA: Are you feeling sorry now little man?
ME: Y…y…yes Miss,
REBECCA: This time I think I believe you. Has quite a strong bite to it, doesn’t it?
ME: Y..yes Miss,
REBECCA: Lying Alasdair, under any circumstances, hurts everyone, including yourself. Those six strokes are just a taster. You will stand in the corner and think about how much they hurt and how much more they’re going to hurt. In thirty minutes I will return to this room and you will be back over my knee for a hairbrushing that you’ll remember for as long as you live! Am I making myself clear?
ME: Please Rebecca…I’ve learnt my…
REBECCA: Am – I – Making – Myself – Clear – ?
ME: Yes…Miss,

She wasn’t kidding! For thirty minutes I stood in the corner consumed by the feel, noise and throb of that brush. Much like when I was younger, I had hoped she was kidding. That this was another ruse to catch me out. But like all those times as a child, it wasn’t. I was about to be spanked like never before, deep down I knew that, and any doubt of her ability had fled as soon as that first whack from the hairbrush landed.

After removing my clothes she literally had to drag me over her knee, such was my fear. I kept panicking and pulling away, dragging my heels into the floor until finally she’d had enough and hauled me so far over her lap my legs were in mid air and my head touching the carpet. She pinned my legs down with her own, trapping me into position and holding me completely helpless.

REBECCA: I don’t get any pleasure from this Alasdair but if this is what needs to happen to get you to behave then this is what is going to happen.
ME: Please Rebecca, please, I’m sorry.
REBECCA: I know you are sweetie. Just remember that any misbehavior in the future will see you right back here with Bigger Black – and you don’t want that, do you?
ME: No Miss,

She’d never in her entire life spanked me this mercilessly! It was amazing! Within a dozen smacks I was thirteen again; a sniveling sobbing teenager being punished without hope. The pain was intense, covering my entire backside; half a dozen smacks raining down on the backs of my thighs and plenty more over my tender sit spots that caused howls of agony as I struggled to break free. The noise in the room was tremendous, just a continuous stream of CRACK! SMACK! CRACK! SMACK! CRACK! Each one followed by some ungodly undignified noise from me.

After a few dozen blows I was sobbing, and she stopped. She rubbed my bottom with the wood slowly, watching me clench and wiggle before tapping me a couple of times. I was breathing heavily, tears on my face, praying it was over. She commenced again – slow hard whacks, long pauses between them – fresh wails filled the room as I felt my bottom turn from pink to red to purple.

After what felt like an eternity and with tears streaming she halted completely. Resting the brush on my back she soothed my flaming cheeks with her hand as I wept solidly for a few minutes. The feeling was intense, all of the frustration, anger, annoyance, grief, loss, pain, everything I’d bottled up for years flooded out of me. The tears weren’t just about the pain from the hairbrush; they were about everything I’d experienced. I couldn’t say anything, could barely think anything such was the state of my mind.

REBECCA: I’m sorry my darling but you brought that on yourself.
ME: Uhuh
REBECCA: Don’t feel bad about crying, just let it all out.
ME: Uhuhhh
REBECCA: I don’t want to but I will do that again if you’re naughty. Bigger Black will live on your bedside table as a constant reminder of what will happen to naughty boys, understood?
ME: Uhhuhh
REBECCA: Now, I’ll let you get cleaned up but then you will help me in the kitchen and you will do exactly what I say, understood. And you can forget about clothes for the rest of the day, you will be naked until I say otherwise.
ME: Uhhuuh
REBECCA: And I don’t want a single lie coming from your lips, okay? Not today, not ever, else you’ll find yourself with a purple bottom again!
ME: Uhhhuuuu
REBECCA: I’ll take that as a ‘Yes Miss’. Very well, you may stand up.

She helped me up, she had to, such was my agony. She took one look at the tears on my face before pulling me into a long warm hug, wiping the wetness from my cheeks and rubbing my bottom again.

REBECCA: I love you Alasdair, I hope you know that.

There wasn’t an ounce of me that didn’t believe her; not now, not ever.

~ Epilogue ~

After spending the day in the kitchen doing all the cleaning under Rebecca’s supervision she led me back into the bedroom for a liberal dose of cream and a beautiful release of my pent up excitement. I had felt the whole day as I had when I was thirteen, my backside shades of colours I barely recognized. In bed that night, lying on my front, Rebecca asked if I hated her.

“Not an ounce, Becky,”

“Truly?”

“My nemesis is less than a few feet away – why on Earth would I chance lying to you tonight?”

“I think maybe I went a bit overboard…your butt’s pretty bruised and…”

“Stop it!” I said, giving her a quick kiss. “In all honesty I hated pretty much every second of it, but goddamn I needed it! If it had been too much Rebecca I would have stopped you, you know that. You also know you would have stopped yourself,”

“Yeah?” She smiled hesitantly.

“Yes!” I tickled her belly. “Now, I could do with some hugs,”

The marks from that spanking lasted around a week but the fallout from the change of our relationship lasted forever. No longer did I think I could get away with just a light erotic spanking. I knew that if I pushed her hard enough she was capable of the most severe of brushings. Seeing it beside me, everyday, for the next few years was an ongoing nightmare.

But on only two occasions did that nightmare become real. The first time the spanking was as bad. The second was much much worse.
I knew from that day on she was perfect for me and I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s