To all of you and all your loved ones, a Happy Christmas (or equivalent!). I hope that despite all that’s happening in the world, you find time to celebrate in the company of people you love.
This picture is also a request from the reward tiers of my game, Elven Kingdom! It is a tradition in the Kingdom that the Ruler be spanked by the spirit of Midwinter to bring a happy new year. As princess Maera is now in charge, she also gets to fulfil that duty! Thank you to the supporter, and feel free to check the game out!
“Hello corner my old friend…” she thought, trying her best to keep her hands where she had been told to put them, over her head. She wanted nothing more than to rub away the burning pain in her bottom, but she knew that in the end, she would only make matters worse for herself. Not that rubbing her red, throbbing bottom would hurt, but the second spanking she would earn by disobeying certainly would.
Of course, he had been right, she had been speeding, and she had flipped the bird at that stupid bi— at that elderly lady in the other car. Yes, the language had been a bit much… And she had told him to shut up too… In fairness, she probably would have deserved for him to tell her to pull over immediately for a spanking in the car, right there, right then. Sometimes, he really didn’t care if people could see… Just to think of it, she was wet again. She certainly didn’t care. Well, she did it was the most humiliating thing she could imagine. But she liked it. And hated it. It was complicated, okay? And anyway, it hadn’t happened. This time.
After the incident. He had been very quiet all the way home. No scolding, no angry voice. She had kept quiet also, trying to concentrate on her driving and not on the thoughts that were racing through her head. Thoughts of her bottom being thoroughly roasted, mostly. Not stopping and being punished right away meant that he wanted to take his time… And teach her a lesson she wouldn’t soon forget…
Of course, that had been exactly what had happened. Once home, he had told her to go wait for him in the bedroom. She knew what it meant and knew better than to argue. Once there, she had stripped down to her t-shirt and panties, as she always did before he punished her. She was used to it, she had to shamefully admit. She rarely went more than a few days without needing what he called “little adjustments”. The punishments, she felt, weren’t little at all. But the punishments, she knew, were deserved, and needed.
He had made her wait what had felt like a lifetime, her bottom seemingly burning in anticipation. Finally, he had come in. She had been waiting, her hands crossed over her belly, head down. She didn’t dare look up until she was told to do so. And when he did, she mustered the little rebellion she still had in her and blew a strand of hair off her face before asking “What took you so long?” in what she hoped was a too-cool-to-care voice. He had not liked it. Not one bit. In fact, he had turned her around, still standing, and landed twenty hard slaps on her barely covered bottom. She had yelped and moaned immediately, a prelude to the concerto of her cries to come.
And crying she did, big, shameful tears between promises of good behaviour and begging for him to stop, begging for the panties not to come down, begging for the ginger not to be used. The wooden bath brush he had brought with him had not gone to waste either, and she could still feel its heavy head falling on her poor little bottom. In reality, the spanking hadn’t lasted that long. Five minutes? Maybe ten? But he had spent at least as much time scolding her in between burst of spanking. And the shame of it had been worse than the pain. But then, he had told her that he loved her, and he had finally given her the kiss and cuddle that she had been craving all day. Had she done it all just because she had felt that he hadn’t paid enough attention to her? Surely, she wasn’t that childish… Surely…
Still, her heart had been as light as her bottom was hot as she had trotted to the corner. She knew that while she was standing there, he was on the bed, reading, and keeping an eye on her while she cooled off. Then, in a while… Well, they were in the bedroom, and she was already half naked so… She was pretty sure of what would happen next. After all, she was used to it.
[No cats were harmed in the making of this blog. They all love to be spanked.] Exploring the psychology 'behind' spanking through fiction and poetry. Because, nothing says 'I love you' better than a red, sore, bare bottom. Comments welcome and discussion encouraged. I believe spanking between consenting adults leads to closer and more intimate relationships. Spanking is not a kink, not a fetish, not a lifestyle, but rather, a healthy and honest means of communication. Let your mind free and respect will follow. Contact me firstname.lastname@example.org