Relationships

I need to put my life on pause for a second and take a moment to figure some shit out.

Maybe this is just first world problems. I don't know. God knows all I have now is time... Time to oversleep, eat, blog, eat again, maybe work out (probably not), watch TV, go on Tumblr, eat, think about working out, watch TV, take a nap, eat, watch TV, go on Tumblr, and then sleep. That can't be right.

I have been losing sleep at night over all this spanking business as well. What was once an awesome fantasy in my mind has become real over the past couple months, but it doesn't live up to the hype my mind created for 20-some years. I had been fantasizing in 2 minute trailer length versions of what real spankings are like. You get spanked, there is the element of submission and domination, and you feel the sting on your ass for a few days after... but then what? Is it all just an elaborate act?

My tastes have expanded... I was never interested in the DD lifestyle, but now that's my ultimate goal because it's the closest, most intimate, most beautiful thing I can think of, as far as marriage or relationships go. But what the fuck do I really know about relationships?

I really don't know anything, and it's been confirmed by all this foolishness with J and C. In the most vulgar sense, I am completely cock-hungry. To put it in a nicer way, I crave intimacy and touch. Sex and spanking is on my mind all day. But what else do I want in a relationship?

The closest thing I can even compare it to is the relationship I have with my best friend. During summers we could spend all week with each other, doing absolutely nothing. Just talking and laughing all day until our jaws literally started hurting and we had to take a break. What do we even do? We just talk shit and joke and drink coffee and even takes naps in the middle, just so we can wake up and go eat and talk some more. And then we get pissed off for one reason or another and we fight and then later, get back together because we're bored, or we get over it. Is that considered homoerotic? We change in front of each other. I've seen her naked. We sleep in the same bed during sleepovers. Or is that just normal girl friendship behavior?

I figure that's what a girlfriend/boyfriend relationship is like, except with more sex and nudity. But I don't know how to be romantic and girlfriend-y. I can be someone's bottom bitch, but I don't know how to be very loveable. To hell with "just be yourself"... there are still some unspoken rules you have to follow to keep up with a relationship.

Beyond sex and spanking, I don't know what exactly I have to offer to a boyfriend. Yes, support, loyalty, maybe even humor... and what can they give me? Never enough. Because I'm very selfish and crave an immense amount of attention. I'm beginning to realize more and more that that's how I've been raised.

My Poor Swollen Bottom

So last night, T and I meet up and I am so nervous, I barely know what to do with myself. It's not the same nerves as last time, when I didn't know what to expect... if he was a nice guy, a creep, an asshole. But I KNOW he's nice... the nerves came from the fact that it was supposed to be a punishment spanking.

At first, he had me sit down next to him while he talked to me. I kept playing with my hair, brushing it, stroking it, just messing with it.

"Stop playing with your hair," he said. "Put your hands on your knees."

"I'm sorry. I'm just really nervous."

"I know you are. And you should be."

But my hands keep moving to my hair. It's a tic, and I laugh.

"Do you think this is funny?"

"No, it's not. No."

"No, what?"

That becomes a battle all night... the fact that I don't want to say Sir, and the fact that I genuinely forget to say it. 

The punishment is about my snapping at my mother, losing my temper, being in bad moods and taking it out on people.

T starts with a warm-up over the same black yoga pants I wore last time. It's not too bad, but he reminds me that we haven't even begun anything yet.

When he starts with the bamboo brush, he pulls down my pants and gets me on the sit spot and upper thighs repeatedly. I am squirming so badly that he has to pin me down with his leg, and it hasn't even been a few minutes. The sting is incredible, I guess because it's such a small compacted area. But that is absolutely nothing compared to the bathbrush on the bare.

I never cried during this spanking, but it was almost too much for me to take. My panic, the pain, the immobility... it was just so many sensations at once, but T was unrelenting. At some point I let go of all my pride and BEGGED for him to slow down (which he did not), even saying Sir, and all he did was tell me to put both of my hands behind my back. Then he held onto both wrists and I could not move, and he got in about 50 strokes of the bath brush before I actually stood straight up and begged him to stop.

"This is a punishment, do you understand?"

"Yes, Sir."

"It's not supposed to feel good. We're not testing your limits and your likes and dislikes, okay?"

"Yes, Sir."

"It's going to hurt a lot, and that's the point."

And for the last half of the punishment, I was to count 25 strokes, and loudly.

"One, sir. I will not snap at people again."

That, I think, was the worst part. Just the fact that I had the power to dictate the next swing, but still had to say that... I can't even describe the emotions that went along with it. And T was good... he wouldn't smack right after I said the line. He would sometimes linger for a few seconds, and I would have no idea when the swat would land. But sometimes he would smack immediately. It was terrifying. And all 25 strokes were hard, at maximum swing. (He says they weren't, but I don't believe him.) 

In the middle, I messed up my line a few times... I couldn't even breathe or speak straight. I was whimpering, and I forgot to say Sir, and I forgot the numbers. T said that he would repeat anytime I spoke too quietly or incorrectly. I believe it happened twice. And the second time, I yelled at him, completely losing my temper, and kicked him: "THAT IS SO NOT FAIR. THAT COUNTS!" Which I paid for at the end of the 25 strokes, with another 25 all in a row.

In the end, he had me sit on his leg and say that I would never act that way again, or it would be even worse. I can't even fathom how much worse it could be without my actual death occurring in the process. 

My bottom is totally swollen... with a huge bruise on my right sit spot. It's just the kind of sting I "wanted"... I'm wearing a short dress and my skin sticks to the leather seat I have at work, and I have to constantly readjust because it just hurts too much. But peeling my skin off the leather is a sting in itself. There is no escape from this pain. 

I'm trying to think. We met at 8:45 and left around 9:45. Which means I had been spanked straight for about an hour. Maybe about 10 minutes of rest. Goddamn. 

But this isn't for real

So he cracked the side of my wooden hairbrush (which he said he knew would happen)... my ass is completely bruised. Swollen, I guess you can say. I can't really sit down. That's the point. I know.

T is a nice guy. Besides being a good spanker, I can also imagine being friends with him normal, vanilla situations as well. I like that he is not going to hit on me, not going to make any moves on me... I like that he has a sense of humor.

The spanking was also good. I mean, for a first spanking ever, I think that's about as good as it's going to get. Not too brutal, but definitely not soft.

But now it's the day after, and I'm wondering... is this really what I want?

I don't have any qualms about the fact that I met him from online. That was a really good thing, actually, since we were able to treat each other like friends first, not like a discipline service. (Which happens more often than not, I'm noticing.)

But I don't really feel punished. It wasn't supposed to be a punishment, anyway, but in my mind, a spanking is a punishment. I want to feel this stinging, swollen ass of mine and think to myself, "Ouch, well, I deserved that. That's what I get." But I don't really think that at all.

Maybe because the reasons he spanked me weren't really legitimate reasons to me? I get that he wants me to say yes, sir and things like that, and I should be doing what he tells me to do. But I don't feel a horrible sense of regret for not saying yes, sir, or even for telling him to "move your fucking leg!" somewhere in the middle of that spanking. I don't feel like I've learned a lesson about something important.

We were joking with each other during all the breaks we took. T was very good in that way, trying to make me relax and feel more comfortable with him... but that makes it less serious.

This is real life. No one is going to say to you, "Hey, you need to watch your mouth or I swear I'll put you over my knee," and then actually do it. The spanking itself will always be (or should always be) consensual on some level. But I have a desire for it to be non-consensual, totally serious, totally harsh, and make me totally remorseful. Maybe I have to turn to the discipline service type people for that.

I want him to have a legitimate reason to be spanking me, and then spank me hard, make me really cry, and then say, "okay, get up. I hope you've learned your lesson, and every time you sit down, I hope you remember it," and then be gone. No jokes, no laughing, no "are you okay?"

It will never be really REAL for me, I feel like, because spanking is something I enjoy. I mean, not in the moment, but it's not something I fear completely, like a non-spanko would. That annoys the hell out of me.