I have a whole new appreciation for the saying "be careful what you wish for". Although I had said a lot here, I had not mentioned anything to Steve about spanking since the scratch incident. I felt that based on the excellent advice I had received from you guys, I wanted to give him space. It proved to be the right decision. The children had gone to bed, and we were enjoying time together on the couch watching one of our favorite shows. When the show concluded, he put his hand under my chin, looked me in the eye, and said, "We have some discipline we need to deal with, don't we?" A little taken aback, I simply nodded. "Go to the bedroom, take off your jeans and panties and stand in the corner and wait for me." I'm not sure why, but I was very emotional by the time he came in. I'm guessing because it was of his own volition.
While I was on my knees in front of him in his chair for lecture time, he asked me to share why I wanted his discipline. Needless to say there was crying on my part before we even got started, but I think I was able to help him see my longing. I say that because this was easily the hardest spanking he has ever given me. It started as it usually does: hand spanking and then wooden spoon spanking while OTL, but they were long and hard in comparison to the past. "Would you like some corner time before we move on to the belt?" I took it. The tears started flowing again while I stood there. I was sobbing at one point. It was pure emotion not pain, and I was trying hard to stop because I was afraid he would back down because he might think he was being too rough. He did not give the appearance of being phased when he came back in and I was still crying a little. "Hands and knees for the belt, please. We are going to start with 30 and see where we need to go from there. Count it out." They were hard and relatively fast."What do you think? Is that enough to make you want to do better, or do you need more?" I knew it wasn't enough, but my bottom was also hurting, so I was contemplating saying no when... "That pause tells me you need more. Let's try another ten. Count it out." Holy Crap those ten were probably the hardest smacks I have ever received in my life! I began crying again, this time both an emotional and pain response. "Well?" "Almost" was my reply. I didn't want more, but I knew that wasn't the point. I wasn't to the point of deterrence yet. "Alright, ten more. Count." Equally as hard except for the last which was the "you don't want more" stroke. As soon as I counted the tenth, I collapsed and started sobbing. He sat back down in his chair and waited.
After a minute or two, I got off the bed and went to him in his big cozy chair and he pulled me onto his lap and wrapped his arms around me. I cried on his chest while he hugged and rubbed my back. When I stopped and looked at him, I had never seen him so pensive. I kissed his face over and over and thanked him with every kiss. I reassured him that the crying was about my emotions, not my pain. We spent some more time just snuggling. "Well, I know you are going to want to blog about this so make sure you put back on your jeans before you go out to the dining room to do that." "OK, but I'm curious, may I ask why?" "You told me that your jeans rubbing against your freshly spanked bottom is uncomfortable. I want this to stick with you for a little bit." Sigh. You all told me to be patient, but you forgot to warn me about keeping my mouth shut! ;) So here I sit giving you this glorious update with my bottom throbbing against the seat of my jeans. It is a strange, but wonderful, sense of peace. Thank you Steve. I love you.