After a week of recovering from MR. Joker's spanking. I found myself home in New York.
At the same time my spanko family was on a trip to New Hampshire without me!
Well on the last night of their journey, they stopped in Connecticut, where Pete and Rose live. So I took a bus ride up to visit the whole family.
Pete was excited to play with me, Wendy had a discipline ready for me, Sam and Alyson are always excited to see me, and Rose and I were meeting for the first time in person.
It was overall a great time. Unfortunately Pete had to leave for the night for a work thing, and he is the one who plays the most, Wendy and Rose are generally all business!
My discipline was really hard. I'm in a twelve step group, and we have tools, like reading the big book and praying. I asked Wendy to help me stay on track, and I had neglected those tools to the point of relapse.
She was not about to go easy on me for that.
Eventually (around 10 pmish?) she took me to the basement, and put me over her leg over the bed. She brought a freaking huge hairbrush, her hand, and a cane. Samantha, and Alyson came to hold hands and give moral support.
She started with her hand, but don't think it was a warm up, it wasn't. The whole time I was thinking, about how can I avoid doing this lying, addiction thing. I felt so ashamed. Her hand is flat and thuddy, it doesn't leave a sting, it feels more like a thick paddle, I hate it
WHAM WHAM WHAM WHAM
She went on and on.
"What are you thinking about?" She asked, as I lay -- as per usual-- still as stone
Getting your painful hand off my ass! Lying next time!
"Self care and respect." I lied, I didn't think that the honest answers would help any.
"Good" She said as she reached for the hairbrush. I shuddered. Sam held my hands and winced sympathetically.
THWAP THWAP THWAP
I suppose I drifted into sub space because, I was just focused on relaxing my muscles and allowing the punishment, but honestly I still felt resistance. I didn't want to use my tools, I didn't want to have an addiction. I felt cursed, and victim-y.
THWAP THWAP THWAP
I inhaled sharply, wincing, and crying out
Wendy would stop and check in every so often to make sure I was alright. OF COURSE I WASN'T ALRIGHT, SHE WAS SPANKING ME! But I didn't say that
Then she picked up the fucking cane. I hate that thing she laid it across my buttocks and I shuddered. I'd never had any discipline strokes with the rattan cane.
"Are you ready?"
"Okay, we'll wait til you are ready."
Really, because NEVER sounds like a great time for me
"Okay, Ma'am. I'm ready"
The cane landed with a crack
"PLEASE MA'AM, NO MORE. PLEASE NOT THE CANE. ANYTHING BUT THE CANE!"
I pleaded. I never plead. I whined I begged.
"Just two more strokes." She said. I could hear the remorse in her voice, she was doing it for my own good.
"AARGGGHHHHH" I screamed as the cane landed perfectly on my sit spots.
"OOOOWWWWWWWWWW" I yelled this time with a sigh of relief.
"Do you feel you've learned your lesson?"
No, I'm still hissy, I still don't want to do my tools, I still don't wanna!
"yes Ma'am" I said
We snuggled. She put lotion on my bottom, which is unusual, her rule is generally, "if you rub it out, I'll put it back in." But I felt really clingy afterwards, for the next hour it became evident that I was still very subby and not finished with my punishment, I'm not usually subby.
So we had a chat and Sam and Alyson looked at me shocked as I agreed I needed more.
She took me back downstairs with the choice of a belt, a razor strop, or a tawse. I chose belt!
She predominately used the belt but let me feel all three. I screech when the strop lands on the welt from the caning. I have no recollection of the length of the session, she tells me it was short, but on my end it felt long, let me tell you!
After it was over though I felt better, back to normal, ready to rebound and play.
And let me tell you, I did.