Tiny Spanking Story #28

Inspired by the stress and anxiety of travel – of which I experienced a healthy dose today!

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The Delta customer service agent hadn’t been helpful at all. I slammed my phone onto the counter after our call ended and the screen protector cracked from edge to edge. This was enough to send the tears cascading down my cheeks finally.

Quietly, he came into the kitchen behind me, gripped me firmly by the ear, and lead me to the bedroom, despite my very vocal protests. Without a word, he sat on the end of the bed and pulled me clear across his lap, lifting my dress on the way.

The hand spanking was hard and fast and exactly what it needed to be, and drained me of the rest of my tears. A release, and sleep. Rest. A reset. That’s what I needed.

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-M

Tiny Spanking Story #26

I didn’t forget, but I admit, today has rather gotten away from me. Some family dropping by to help with some house tasks, a kid birthday party, some errands, and frankly, just needing some time to sit and do nothing, listening to my audiobook. I’ve been trying to think of what to write all day. This was the only thing in my head, as it so often is.

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“Ow! Please! Stop!”

Her feet drummed against the floor, the carpet muffling the impact just enough, as she tried to push up on the rung of the chair she had been clinging to.

His left arm held her firmly down around the waist, counteracting her attempt, as his right leg expertly locked behind her knees.

He didn’t miss a beat and the hairbrush continued to fall through it all – as her tears did shortly after. Her bottom was a blotchy array of reds and purples, bruises forming on the edges and her sit spots, the center taking on that firmness of a deeper bruise.

A moment more, and her kicking stopped, her crying slowed to exhausted sobbing, and he applied the final flurry to the tops of her thighs as she squealed with renewed energy.

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What’s in your head?

-M

Tiny Spanking Story #25

Did you ever try a new spanking position that just didn’t work out?

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I climbed up the little step stool, skeptical this would work, and very carefully laid across his elevated lap. His feet were on the bottom rung of the stool, so there was a bit of a slope, to his lap.

He held me, chuckling, telling me not to move much, but it still felt insecure.

I laughed, and slid sideways, until I was standing back up.

“Well, it was worth a try. I’ll just put you over my knee on the sofa.”

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This was such a pivotal moment actually. Being able to try a position that I was convinced my fat body wouldn’t be able to do, with the safely of someone I trusted, was kind of special. There was no shame for it not working out, we talked about what might have made it work (a smaller stool for his feet to even out his lap, if I hadn’t needed it to get to his lap because I’m so short!), and moved to a position that did work.

-M