So the other day, I got myself in trouble.
I hadn't broken a direct instruction, or even a rule, but I failed to take care of myself and he was not too happy. He told me he'd be giving me stricter expectations the following day and "tonight before bed, you need a good spanking, because you know I'm not pleased with this."
I knew I needed a good spanking, for so many reasons I couldn't even begin to explain. But I knew I hadn't done what I was supposed to, not taken care of myself, and even though it wasn't big trouble or hadn't even been intentional disobedience, that's just how we operate. Sometimes, he likes to remind me who's in charge. Somtimes we need to clear the slate. Sometimes he needs to spank me. The reasons are many are varied, but the bottom line is...
I need to be spanked.
I like to be spanked.
He needs to spank me.
He likes to spank me.
Sometimes, it gets all muddled. Sometimes, the reasons blur. When he says "over my knee," I go. Unless I'm in big trouble (which is incredibly rare), I'm usually eager to lie over his lap.
So the time came, and I had a lot of things on my mind. I wasn't exactly looking forward to being spanked as there was an underlying disciplinary tone, but I was looking forward to the release and the connection. It's hard to explain.
"Come lie over my lap," he said, and I obeyed. He asked me why I was being spanked, and I told him. As he spanked me quite soundly, he lectured me.
"The next few days will be busy and you are going to obey me. Am I clear, young lady?"
"You'll watch your tone and be respectful."
I will, I promise.
"I won't tolerate you losing your temper or any disobedience. You know that?"
"You do as your told."
And then being spanked triggered an emotional reaction. That happens, with some regularity, honestly.
Some of the things on my mind involve issues with my parents. A conversation with my mom had upset me earlier that day...I'll simply say, you never really do get over being rejected by your parents...and I was missing my dad something awful. So even though the spanking Jason gave me was on the smaller side, and wasn't anything like I get when I'm in big trouble -- it was more of a reminder than anything -- I found myself in tears.
I didn't say anything to him. Not a word. But he finished spanking me, lifted me up, and held me. And he knew. God bless that man, he knew.
"I'm sorry you're hurting because of your parents," he said. I let it all out. I didn't need to tell him. I didn't need to talk. But a thought flitted through my mind -- a brief thought, that comes from being someone who craves love and attention, who was denied love and attention for so long -- "I know you spank me because you love me," I said.
"That's one reason I spank you," he said with a chuckle, and I smiled back, not being upset anymore.
"Oh yeah?" I asked. "And what's the other reason?"
He gave me that look. That come-hither-bedroom-eyes look.
"Because it's fun spanking girls," he said.
I laughed out loud.
So there you have it, readers. He spanks me because he loves me and because it's fun to spank girls.
Glad to be of service, babe.