"Get over my knee NOW," Eric said sternly, "Or we're skipping the warm-up and going straight for the belt."
We both knew this was coming. The spanking was inevitable.
Eric rolls up his sleeves for three reasons.
1. Erotic, playful spanking
2. Mental, reset spanking
3. Punishment, straighten up spanking
He was about to leave for two weeks, so I was getting all three.
1. Twenty one day medical restriction of "no sex" and the Chinese Eggplant appetizer a few nights ago had us both heated up.
2. Eric will be gone, without communication, for two weeks. Uh, ya, reset required. (More like "set up" than "reset". The reset will come when he returns.)
3. I went through an entire monologue on how I have always wondered what a real legitimate punishment spanking would feel like, explained that I crave both the emotional and physical side, pronounced the need for Eric to be mad at me so he can punish me so I can see that he still loves me even though it has never worked out that way in my past with anyone else, thus affording me the freedom to trust that I am worth sticking around for.
We were in our bedroom and I was wearing nothing but a thong. Eric pulled out the spanking chair and as he prepared to start, I inquired why he was mad at me.
"I'm not," he answered.
"Then this won't work!" I stated. "If you aren't really mad then how will I know you still love me when you're not mad anymore?"
My brain on female hormones.
Really?! Was I really saying those words?
Eric cornered me and held tightly to my arms. He looked deep into my eyes and said, "I think the world of you. You still don't get that, do you?"
I literally lost myself in the sincerity of his voice. I couldn't breathe and searched his eyes looking for the catch.
"You have a lot of baggage," he stated and my thoughts grasped onto the negative voice in my head which reassured me, it was my baggage that was the catch. "but that's okay," he continued and the negative voice disappeared like magic, "as long as you don't spend your life looking in the review mirror."
Eric waited until I acknowledged his point. And then, we began.
"Get over my knee NOW," he said sternly, "Or we're skipping the warm-up and going straight for the belt."
There is a solid intimacy in being across Eric's lap, his cock growing under my ribs and his palm reddening my ass one cheek at a time. He can talk, tug at my hair, hold my hand in place when I try to use it for cover; comforting actually.
The warm up ended and I became knees on the bench, butt in the air, body over the foot board of the bed. Eric struck out with his belt. The slaps stung and clawed at my bare skin. I squirmed and yelped, gave into the pain and then danced around fighting the burn.
I scurried away at one point and then found myself draped over the chair, Eric threatening me to move my hands out of the way of the spanking I was to continue receiving.
My hands did not listen and WHACK, out of nowhere, the belt landed in a solid thud across my right shoulder blade and down my back. The sensation was INCREDIBLE. Eric held off, not knowing what I was thinking or experiencing. I looked up into his face and beamed.
"I want more of that," I panted.
My tone and breathing was extremely convincing, because I meant it.
"You do, don't you?" he stated. "You want me to beat on your back, on your whole body, until you feel every inch come alive, don't you?"
Time seemed to stand still as I looked into Eric's bright blue eyes.
"Yes Sir," I replied.
Oh did Eric go to town on me. My pussy, tits, ribs, inner thighs, back, bottom, and quads. Each strike held a different amount of pressure to it, some sensual and sexual, others biting and long lasting, still others quick but effective. I loved everything he did. He loved everything he did.
In the end, my hands were bound with the belt and Eric was coming in my mouth. Then, with a beautiful red heart drawn on my left cheek, we were both ready for a nap.
"Next time," Eric cooed in my ear as I drifted off, his body spooning mine between cool crisp sheets, "we use the flogger."
I can't wait.