Sunday, December 25, 2011

Pre- and post-mortem thoughts about my spanking gift the other day

This post is both a pre- and post-mortem of the crop-breaking post. It's an interesting exercise when you look back on things.

My guy and I hadn't seen each other in a month. I have been recovering from surgery. He had an accident with his finger, so we haven't been the healthiest couple. His finger has healed and I am feeling better.

Last Tuesday, my guy needed to talk to me. It was work-related. It had to do with software release notes that I typically do. However, since I have been on short-term leave from work, he has taken over the task.

He asked me about summarizing a specific trouble ticket that didn't seem correct to add to the release notes. He asked for my opinion.
"Well, you need to cover your ass," I said. "For me, this exercise doesn't apply. I am the exception."
"Yes," he said, knowing what I was hinting at. "I know that for a fact."
He then said that he would pay me a visit. I was thrilled.

We have talked about what we like. I get turned on by having my articles of clothing removed. So, the thought of having my skirt lifted and getting swatted over my panties became a reality. What was different was my guy pulling down my panties and spanking me on my bare behind. He had never done that to me and I loved it.

Getting spanked with a crop on a bed with my bare buttocks exposed was also new.  I loved every moment. It hurt. Three hours later, I looked at my backside in the mirror and I had clear pinkish marks from where the crop had landed.

We talked over the phone on Friday about the marks left on my bottom. He apologized and said that he got "carried away." I told him that the entire day was perfect. I liked being sore for a couple of days. He did good work. I'm glad he likes spanking me. I am the first person he has ever spanked.

I had a bad first experience giving a blowjob years ago. I didn't find it pleasurable. Giving my guy a brief one has changed my outlook. I like the fact that we both have decent senses of humour.
"I had quite the view," I said, which made him laugh. I was on my back and he was on his knees, on top of me.
"Yes, you certainly got a different perspective."
He is patient and sweet. I had told him about wanting a fuzzy purple paddle. He went out of his way to get me a crop with a heart on it, as he couldn't find the item that I had wanted. We both continued to laugh that it broke into two pieces.

On the phone, my guy told me that he loved kissing me. I knew that he did. I love when we kiss, too.
"I love kissing you," I said.
"Me, too." He said, but immediately corrected himself. "I love kissing you, to be clear."
"I have conditioned you well," I said with a smile on my face.
"You are abusing that you-like-add-a-verb-in-here-too line," he said, teasing me a bit.
"No, it's not abuse," I stated firmly.
"Sure it is!" he exclaimed in a mocking way.
"I'm just being a brat," I admitted.
"You know what brats get in return?" he asked me.
"I know," I said in a playful, hesitant voice.
"They get punished," he stated plainly.
"I know. I liked when you swatted me the last time I did this to you."
Getting a sore, cropped bottom and getting a swat for being a brat after that was the best Christmas present I could have possibly received this year.

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