I wake up early in the morning, before Jason. Normally, I have my routine where I come on downstairs, have a little meditation/prayer with my morning coffee, then work on whatever book I’m writing before my kids wake. But this morning, for some crazy reason, I wake up really, really needy.
I remember how super sexy the Outlander spanking was, and I think, “You know, It’ll be good to see that again.” (C’mon…many of you have done it…don’t judge! Lol).
An hour later, I’ve watched a crazy amount of spanking videos. He doesn’t like me to really watch them often, and there are some I’m not even allowed to watch. But it’s okay if it’s once in a while. Honestly, I need a spanking, and I need one badly. When I need one, I often pick up a book and read a good spanky romance, but I’m dying here. My need to be spanked is high, honestly, from what others have told me, higher than most. Jason spanks me just about every single day. It’s part of our routine.
Why? It keeps me grounded. Helps me focus. I love the intimate connection. It puts me in his place as his submissive, and reminds me to keep my attitude in check. Getting spanked releases endorphins, and makes me feel relaxed. I crave going over his lap.
When it’s time for his coffee, I bring it to him and whisper, “Daddy, I have a confession to make. I spent an hour watching spanking videos this morning. I need a spanking so bad.”
He rolls over, still sleepy-groggy and raises a brow, chuckling. “Wow. You are needy,” he says. “I’ll take care of you, baby doll.”
He makes sure we have privacy and he shuts and locks the doors. “There’s a little girl who needs a spanking,” he says, and points to the floor by his feet. I go to him, dragging my feet a bit because this is when I start getting a little nervous. He knows I need a spanking, so he’s going to give it to me good. He notes my hesitation. “Over my lap.” He pats his knee, all humor now gone. “Now, young lady.”
I obey. I’m wearing a dress that he easily flips up, and he starts spanking. There is no warm up today. (Jason…yoohoo…Jason? Do you remember how the warm-up goes, honey? Just checking! Gah!). Hard, biting slaps of the tilt wand on bare skin, and I’m squirming. “Please, daddy,” I say, because it really, really hurts.
“You need this,” is all he says, and on he spanks. Swish. Thud. Swish. Thud. But after a short while, I’m warmed up, and the intensity of the pain fades. It still hurts, but I don’t squirm anymore. Now I can take it. Now he’s slowing down, with slow, steady licks with the wand. I already feel it beginning, the release of anxiety, sinking into my submissive place, the content release I get after a spanking.
“Up off my lap, baby,” he says, and he has me lie over the edge of the bed. That’s when I hear it, the telltale jingle of his belt buckle.
God, I love daddy’s belt.
He folds it over and smacks my naked skin. I hiss through clenched teeth. I don’t get the belt often, and though I love the sexiness of it and the feel of a good strapping (when I’m not in trouble – punishment strappings hurt like a mother), it’s hard to take. “Please, daddy,” I gasp. “It keeps smacking in one place.” He places his hand on the small of my back and hears my plea, flicking his wrist over so that the belt lands all over, lashes falling one at a time, and just like the beginning spanking, I’m warmed up now. I can take it. He swings hard, but not too hard. He doesn’t welt, but snaps the leather expertly.
“Up on the bed,” he says. “Present yourself to me, little girl.” I climb up onto the bed, in the position I know he wants me, chest down, arms out, ass up. He’s back at it with the belt, slow steady whaps. I tremble a little when I present, because when the belt hits my upper thighs it hurts a way lot. A few smacks land there but I do the best I can to take it.
He stops, sits back on the edge of the bed, and says, “Back on over my knee now, baby.”
I obey, eager to feel him under my belly again. His warm, sturdy leg beneath my belly. He drops the belt and spanks me with his hand, just a few smacks. I sigh.
“There they are,” he says. “The sighs I’ve been waiting to hear.I love doing this for you."
"Really?" I ask.
"Yes, I do."
"It's not an inconvenience?" I do wonder about that sometimes.
"Hell, no," he says, and he is...very obviously...turned on. I sigh contentedly again, and he’s done.
Within minutes, I’m on my knees, moving on to a different kind of submission exercise that keeps me in my place pretty well. ;)
Twelve hours later, I still feel the stripes of his belt, the burn and sting, and I’m pretty sure I’ve had a smile on my face all day long.
I love – no…
I really like – no…
Sometimes I need a good, hard, thorough session. Thank you, daddy.