Friday, December 12, 2014
Over His Lap
We began spanking “for fun” long before Jason ever punished me. At the time, I obeyed him even without the threat of punishment, (not at the level I'm expected to now, however) because it was an understanding in our relationship that he was in charge. It was like that from the beginning, a natural fit for us. He led and I followed. So going over his lap was something we both enjoyed because we found it incredibly erotic. A spanking would always be over his lap. He would always use his hand. It wasn't until the day he first punished me than he ever used anything but his hand to spank me.
Over time, we incorporated more implements into our dynamic. He preferred using implements he found more effective for punishment, so his belt came into use, as well as the hairbrush and a paddle. I preferred other things because – well, I'm a spanko. But still, to this day, if I had my choice I'd choose his hand every single time. It's more intimate. He can give me a hand spanking that takes my breath away that I still feel the next day. But I'm very, very rarely punished with his hand.
How do we differentiate between a “real” spanking and a sexy one? It's all in the premise. It's all in the motive. I know if he's feeling amorous and he pulls me over his lap, he's doing so because he knows there's nothing that lights me up more than a thorough spanking. If he gives me “the look” and pulls out an implement, chances are I'm in trouble and he always makes sure I know why. Sometimes, he just wants me in my place, which is why every day before he leaves, he pulls me over his knee for at least a few swats – more if I've gotten close to the edge, or I'm struggling and need a reminder of who's in charge.
But in the beginning, when he punished me, he would put me over the bed. I found his lap reassuring – and he knew this – so to reinforce the punishment aspect, I would never go over his lap. I found this difficult. I disliked being punished, and found the distance when he put me on the bed somehow felt like rejection. So after a while, I went to him.
“May I ask you a question?” I asked. He nodded and I scooted over to him. I explained how I felt, that I hated being punished, and I would find punishment easier to take if he put me over his lap. He grew stern and explained that the point of punishment wasn't to make me feel good. I understood this, but told him I'd trust him, and that I felt punishment would still be effective. I just wanted to tell him how I felt so he could act accordingly. He nodded, mulling things over, and I didn't bring it up again. I decided I'd submit to whatever he asked.
But the next time I got in trouble, he ordered me over his lap. It was effective and has the decided benefit of me not being able to fight or get away (gulp).
It is now only times of very, very serious punishment, which is extremely rare, that he puts me over the bed. I actually don't remember the last time I was punished over the bed. Going over his lap is the norm.
It's hard to explain how I feel when I'm over his lap. It's the most submissive position possible. There's only one position equally submissive and at the risk of sounding crass, I'll simply state it involves being on my knees. I'm not trying to be funny or rude; I truly believe the act of pleasing him in that way is as submissive an act as going over his lap for a spanking. I'll also simply state that our daily check-in that puts me in my place usually involves more than one act of submission. But both positions, both acts, reinforce our roles.
Every morning, he goes over his expectations with me, by going over my checklist and reinforcing rules. Occasionally, he does this while I'm over his lap, completely bared and vulnerable.
He loves having me over his lap. He finds it sexy, and it's not uncommon for him to make that clear. I love being there. It's like a trigger for me; the moment my belly hits his knee, any frustration or worry I have flees (unless, of course, I'm about to punished.) I lay my head on the bed and cross my arms under me. And we'll talk, his hand on my bottom, me vulnerable and submitted, him in his place as my Dominant and I in my place as his Submissive. Sometimes we'll do this before bed after a long day. We always do this before a long day begins.
I find it deeply erotic, the mere act of lying over his lap.
It's been a long week this week. I'm cranky and hormonal. I miss my dad. I have so much to do. I was feeling needy last night, wanting stress relief and a chance to reconnect. I hadn't really gotten spanked more than a few swats all week, and I knew I needed more. I have high needs, and though I'll submit and obey to less spanking, I much prefer more when I'm needy, and he wants me to communicate those needs.
I was tired, and as I crawled into bed, I told him how I felt. I don't always have to tell him how I feel. Often, he knows, and he orders me over his lap for stress relief without me mentioning it. But sometimes the feelings I have – that desire to be submitted to him, to be put in my place, to feel his strength and reassurance – sometimes it doesn't really surface until we're alone, and it's quiet. I just felt...edgy. Unsettled. I told him.
“Is that right?” he asked.
“Yes,” I said, pulling the covers back up. He left to get ready for bed without another word, and I started feeling that maybe I could've been more polite in how I approached him. Then, remembering that spanking hurts, I started wondering if maybe all I really needed was a good night's sleep and maybe it would've been wiser to keep my mouth closed. But...too late. He came back in the room.
“Come here,” he said. I sat up, prepared to obey whatever he asked. “Come and lie over my lap.”
He wasn't angry, or upset, or even stern. He was ready to meet my needs.
He took out the brush. I balked recently when he took out the brush for stress relief.
“Oooh,” I said, almost involuntarily, “Oh gosh, that really really hurts.”
“Relax, baby,” he said. “I'm not going to spank you as hard as I do when I punish you. Now over my lap.”
Over my lap.
I felt that familiar twisting in me, that deep, dark arousal that sends tingles to my fingertips at his words when I punish you. There's something about him saying that...the sternness, that hearkens back to times I've been soundly punished. It reminds me of how strict he can be, fulfilling his role as my Dominant, bringing my deepest fantasies to fruition.
I swallowed, placing myself in that place of vulnerability and trust. I think that's why the simple act of placing myself over his knee brings me comfort. I need to trust. I put myself in his hands.
“Relax, baby,” he said. And he began. Slowly at first. I yelped into the covers. Even when he's letting the brush just drop, it stings like crazy. It's dense and polished, and he can very easily adjust the severity of a spanking with how hard he swings it. I can feel a spanking with the brush for days. It's also one of our most quiet implements, so in many ways it's ideal. Except that...well, it hurts. Oh lawdie, does that thing hurt.
He warmed me up, talking to me, a few small swats, followed by more and more, building up to a sound, though not harsh, spanking. He told me to relax. He paused between swats, his hand on me, massaging softly, and telling me things like It's okay now and relax baby, and I love you.
A cloudy haze began to come over me. My initial fear of a spanking with the brush began to dissipate as he did, indeed, spank less severely than he does for punishment. He pushed me past what I thought I could take, but I was in the place of letting it all go. I was ready to say “I've had enough,” but his response every time is “I'm the one who says you've had enough,” so I took it silently.
I was vaguely aware of him putting the brush down. My mind cleared, my body as limp as a rag doll, at his mercy. He began using his hand, sharp, stinging swats, alternating with soft caresses. Deep, contented sigh. He spanked me until I completely relaxed.
All the tension gone.
Over his lap.
Posted by J Girl