Wednesday, 4 November 2009

Something New

And not something you haven't seen for a while, a brand spanking new story from me, written today, for you. Well, for myself as well, but you know what I mean. Someone said something in a comment which made me think of this story. I didn't write it to prove him wrong, on the contrary, he is probably right.

And the title is get it?

I had been late for our lunch date, she had every right to be angry. I didn't mean to be late but it happened that way. She was angry. I think I have never seen her this angry.

Angry is not the right word. I hate to say it but she seemed hurt. Although there was anger, as well, a lot of it. Not the kind that shouts and screams and behaves, no, the held back kind, the kind that is contained by gritted teeth and tensed muscles.

I felt guilty, I always do when I manage to hurt her. Still I felt intimidated when she said she would punish me when we got home. I didn't know what she meant but I knew she was serious with it, that she would do something.

I was apprehensive when I opened our front door, later that day, expecting a row, an argument or at least a telling off. I thought I was going to get the worst kind of telling off, the kind when you know you are in the wrong, or at least that the other has a right to be upset.

When I closed the door I heard her voice.

'Ah, there you are.'

She didn't sound as terrible as she had at lunchtime but I could see in her eyes that she hadn't forgot.

'I'm sorry,' I started.

'I know you are sorry. This time, however, I am going to do something about it.'

There was a kind of determination in her that made me hold my breath.

She didn't wait for my reply. She beckoned me to follow her into the living room. She walked over to the big table and from it she picked up a hairbrush. It was her old wooden hairbrush, very big and heavy.

'I have decided that I need this to forgive you,' she said.

'I am sorry, I really am.'

'I know you are but I need this.'

'Not sure I understand...' I heard my voice trail off.

'When I said I would punish you, I realised I meant it. I am going to punish you, with this.'

She held out the brush.

'You can't be serious.'

'I am serious.'

'You really mean...?'

'That I am going to spank you, yes, I really mean it.'

'Is it even allowed?'

'I don't care.'

'You can't.'

'Don't do this. Don't argue. Just come here. Do whatever you want afterwards, say what you want, but just come here and let me punish you.'

She took one of the wooden chairs by the table and turned it round and sat down on it. I knew what she meant by it. I stood staring at her, not really knowing what to do.

It was then I took a step forward. I seemed to know that there was a place for me across her lap and it was to that place I was moving. I felt like a robot, preprogrammed to obey an order. I awkwardly leaned forward and laid myself down on her knee.

She didn't say anything. It all happened in silence. Maybe we couldn't talk, maybe saying something would destroy the determination that had made me move.

It was uncomfortable to lie across her thighs and I tried to find a way of balancing myself. My heart was beating as I wondered what it would be like to get a spanking. I couldn't believe she would really go through with it. It seemed surreal, a strange and weird thing.

Then she took hold of my skirt and flipped it up.

'You can't do that,' I gasped.

'You know I can,' she hissed.

It was so easy, just lifting my skirt. In one instant she made me vulnerable and exposed. With one movement, she cut through my modesty, my sense of integrity.

Then she smacked me. It stung and I jumped. My first reaction was not to protest or cry out but to close my eyes and tense my body, being surprised and shocked by the sudden pain.

She then smacked me again. Again, I jumped.

'It hurts,' I whimpered and felt silly.

'It's supposed to hurt.'

'How many smacks?'

'You'll see.'

She then began to smack me, one smack on the right and then one on the left and then the right again. She did it slowly but steadily. I began to squirm and move. She found her strength and let the brush land with some force on my bottom.

I felt angry and intimidated that she wanted to hurt me, wanted it to be painful and I began to struggle, not wanting it, not accepting it.

'No, you can't do this, it hurts too much,' I cried.

She stopped.

'You have no idea, have you? I am punishing you. I want it to hurt. Just take it and think of the rest later.'

Her voice was low, menacing.

Then she began to smack me again, slowly, hard. This time I didn't protest. I was defeated. She knew what she was doing and she wanted this for me.

It still hurt and it was still unbearable and I didn't know what to do, where to go or how to cope with it. I began to cry and felt even more deflated than before.

There was a strange kind of release in my tears. But they didn't take the pain away. I was still suffering.

Then she stopped.

'I am sorry,' I whispered. I was in a strange frame of mind. I seemed to have moved all the anger to the side and was just relieved she wasn't spanking me any more.

'I am not done yet.'

'But why? I get the message.'

'Because I am not done, that is why.'

She then sat in silence as if she was regarding me.

'I am going to give you some more,' she said, her voice very soft, 'and for that I will prepare you.'

'Prepare me?'

She didn't say anything. Instead she took hold of my knickers and began to gently pull them down.

I don't know why or what really happened but some part of me seemed to be in tune with her thoughts, because I lifted my hips and helped her take my knickers down. I felt my cheeks become hot as I adjusted my body in her lap.

I braced myself for the spanking but was still surprised and overwhelmed when the hairbrush hit my naked skin. It was sharper, more direct, a more pronounced sensation.

I don't know if there really was that much difference or if it was just because I knew I was bared for my spanking, that my skin had been exposed to make me feel it more, but this time the spanking hurt more, was felt more.

Then something happened. It stopped being her, my partner and lover, who smacked my bottom, who caused me pain. It became something else, a concerted effort, as if we both were in on this. She held the brush and I endured the pain. As if we both wanted this.

Then it was over. She told me she was done. I couldn't move but was lying still, trying to figure out where I was, what had happened and how I felt.

My bottom was numb and warm and I was exhausted. I took a deep breath and scrambled to my feet. I pulled my knickers up and rearranged my skirt. Things were getting back to normal.

We didn't speak. I looked at her. She looked empty, spent and very tired.

It was in that moment I think I accepted it. I stood staring at her and wondered what I should say. I had waited to tell her how stupid all this was and how wrong she was to do this. But all that happened was that I smiled a little and felt how much I loved her.

I had done this for her. I had endured this for her, because she wanted it for me. In a way, I had exposed more than my bottom to her. And instead of anger and humiliation, I felt warmth. I was proud of her. It was strange and I didn't understand it but I was very proud of her.


Richard Windsor said...

Dear blog owner,

Two weeks ago I added a link to your site to the new Spanking Universe, hopefully because of this you should have already seen a marked increase in the number of readers/hits you are getting each day.

This is going to be my final effort to try and get everyone to add The Spanking Universe ( to their blogroll so that we can all share each others traffic.

So far around 40 blogs have added a link to the Universe and their traffic is being directed to all of OUR blogs, but that also means 150 blogs have not added a link back as of yet. Would you consider reciprocating a link, of which yours is already up on the spanking universe?

If you are unfamiliar with the concept, whenever you post, your new post automatically goes to the top of the Spanking Universe for all to see. The more people who link in then the more readers you are going to get. So far I have received a lot of praise from other spanking bloggers for creating this spanking community website.

If you want to see how the site works, just visit and you can see for yourself how well it runs. There is no personal gain in this for me, I created the website because to me it is the easiest way to find out which blogs have updated each day with new subjects. It is my first stop every day in fact.

Now I know that most of you are not going to appreciate a standard email, but I have to cut and paste this message 150 times as I try and reach out to get everyone involved. So far I have put in hours of work so a little more won't kill me. All I am asking is that you consider linking back into the new site, like 20% of bloggers have done already, with my hopeful purpose that the more people who link in then the more hits EVERYONE will get.

Most importantly, your new post won't sit there unread, because everyone will know that you have updated soon after you have posted.

Finally, if you want your blog removed from The Spanking Universe, just ask me and I will gladly take it off of the list :-)

Richard Windsor.

Anonymous said...

Dear blog owner, I mean, Janice!

How delightful of you to say that I inspired your story. Equally delightful is the new (for you) perspective, the deservedly punished.

But you are a "value added" author, by which I mean that you are not content with the undistilled cliche. Here, your last paragraph takes your story to a new level: the narrator, we learn, is proud of her partner. We might expect her to feel, oh, a wave of lust, or a reassured sense of being protected or cared for, a or other spanko cliche. But "pride" is a surprise.

You are clever enough to avoid a disquisition on WHY she is proud -- that's best left to the imagination -- ours and yours.


Wystan Ephraim.

Ollie said...

Dear blog owner - Whoops! Janice.

Thanks for the new story.

This was an interesting story in that you didn't tell us the sex of the spankee until she was actually over the knee. It meant that one scenario died and another was born in that sentence. I wondered whether this was deliberate, but I don't recall you writing F/m before, so perhaps I shouldn't have been confused.

I did like "I have decided that I need this to forgive you, "

It formed a kind of bond between them, and added another reason (apart from being late for lunch)for the spankee to submit to what she clearly thought a ludicrous suggestion; it was almost a blackmail of the emotions without which she would never have submitted.

Just as well it all ended up all right for them both, the alternate scenario of "If you ever hit me again I'm calling the police" wouldn't sit very well in a spanking story now would it?


Paul said...

Janice, the Chinese are good at that, I have read somewhere that they recognise some eighteen genders in each sex, so Yin and Yang are in reality positively mottled with their opposite quality.
I take your point, some aspects of my character can be submissive.
It seems to me, in this story, that the reaction of both spanker and spankee are valid.
The punishment role can be very hard when the receiver is loved.
Likewise the spankee's reaction is one I would expect if I had judged right, god help me if I hadn't.
I hope that you gather, that in my long winded way, as usual, I enjoyed this.
Love and warm hugs,

Anonymous said...

"I had exposed more than my bottom to her. And instead of anger and humiliation, I felt warmth. I was proud of her......."

How very very well put....lovely ending.


Janice said...

Dear Richard, Thanks. I have added you to my linklist.

Dear Wystan, you are truly and inspiration, you are always very perceptive and it makes me think. I am a little surprised that pride was such an unexpected thing. I may explore this further and try to answer the question why...perhaps.

Dear Ollie, good comments and to the point, I think. I was aware that the gender wasn't mentioned but decided it was best to keep it this way. Interesting you should say 'blackmail'. That was not what I thought but it is an interesting angle, it really is. I agree that there is a bond. I guess this story contains the theme that is, I think, the theme of most of my stories, that of trust and commitment.

Dear Paul, I guess that this story is about mutual trust, in the end, the love that allows the other to do things with you, and even be proud of them doing it.

Dear Recidavist, I know you are a person who picks up on the details. This makes your compliment very valuable.