Much like the one I posted yesterday, this was written as a BlueSky thread, and I’ve kept the original formatting in bringing it here but you’re welcome to click the link and read it as it was presented. I wrote this on 11/23/24 while at the laundromat, completely lost in my own kinky thoughts, watching my bedding go through an industrial wash cycle.
The kind of #spanking I need right now is the kind I think about a lot but rarely *want* in reality. I want how I’ll feel *after* it. Someone sees I need it. They can tell. My body language, my mood, my attitude. It’s not about punishment, but being seen in that need. Settling.
I can feel the need but am maybe ignoring it, so I’m caught of guard when I’m told to finish what I’m doing and go to the corner. I protest, ask why, and am told there doesn’t need to be an explicit reason always, and I’m to do as I am told. I finish whatever and sulk my way to the corner. Huffing.
He’s behind me, asking if I think it’s appropriate to have an attitude when it’s clear I’m about to be disciplined. I shake my head no, and decide not1 to squash the urge to say something snarky.
“Good. When I call you out, I want you to bring me your ebony hairbrush.”
My stomach drops.
I’m sure I’m in the corner for 10 min when he tells me to come to him. I detour to my desk and pickup my hairbrush, deciding whether or not to whine about it. I think yes.
“I’m sure your hand would be more than enough.”
“I’m sure you think that.”
He takes the brush, sets it down. Draws me in.
“Hands on your head. Don’t move.”
I obey and he reaches under my tshirt & pulls my leggings all the way down to my knees. A flicker of hope, then my panties abruptly join them. I whimper.
“Can’t you leave them up to start?!”
“No. I’m going to spank your bare bottom very hard, not your panties.”
My stomach drops and my face flushes. Now that I’m bared, he lifts my chin so I’m looking him in the eye.
“In a moment, I’m going to put you over my lap and I’m going to wallop you. I’m not going to stop until you’ve been properly dealt with. Is that understood?”
“Yes, sir.”
I close my eyes.
Suddenly, there’s a firm grip on my ear and I’m over his lap, grappling for a chair rung, or the floor, neither of which I can reach properly with both hands, and my feet are off the ground.
I feel his hand rubbing a bit, a few firm pats, as he adjusts me so my bottom is just so.
Suddenly his hand disappears and I’m expecting to feel it falling, but I don’t. Instead, I feel the cool back of the hairbrush rubbing my bottom.
His arm tightens around my hip as I realize there will be no warmup. I squirm, kick.
It doesn’t start as hard as he’ll finish, but I feel it right away.
I’m not stoic and I don’t have to be. I kick my frustration out as he picks up both his pace and the severity. My entire bottom is burning and sore, and he begins to add in my sit spots, and the tops of my thighs.
I’m frantic. I ask him to stop. Tell him it’s too hard & I can’t take it. He’s quiet.
There doesn’t need to be much talking, but he speaks just loudly enough to be heard over my wailing and the brush, “I’ll stop when you remember what a good girl you are and not a moment before.”
Soon enough, I’m crying. I don’t even kick anymore.
“I’ll be a good girl, I promise, I promise!”
He doesn’t stop, even once I’ve let go, but the spanking doesn’t last much longer.
I realize he’s stopped and I’m left catching my breath and sniffling, wiping my tears, I feel his hand.
A brief rub. Small, brief, comfort.
The hand spanking is firm, stings. Reconnecting. My crying is quieter.
When he starts to rub now, I know it’s over, and I relax into his lap, still sniffling. He holds me like that for a few moments. When he stands me up, I realize I’ve kicked my pants and panties across the room.
He tells me not to rub and more tears fall, as he leaves the room.
He comes back with lotion and moves to the couch, taking me by the hand and drawing me *into* his lap, for a proper cuddle. He makes sure my hands are pinned against his body so I can’t rub, but his hands never leave my bottom.
Soon, I’m back over his knee, cozier this time. Comfortable.
He rubs lotion into every inch with no urgency.
The end! 🙈🙈🙈 #embarrassing
-M
- This is a typo from the original that I’ve kept – but the “not” should be removed! ↩︎
Since it has been said a dream is just a wish the heart makes? I hope yours came true. Somewhat of a ‘reverse’ progressive spanking… hard, then settling… ending in lotion and a cuddle. Now that does sound like an excellent idea for a daydream.