Counting while being spanked

Bare with me here (pun wasn't intended... honest!), as I take you through my twisted mind.

All week, Live! with Kelly has been giving moms money for doing various game show-like activities. At the end of the game, based on how many dolls had fresh diapers on them or how many mom singers were identified when their songs were played, mom contestants would get $100 for each correctly diapered doll or correct answer, respectively.

The counting of each hundred-dollar bill stimulated me. It was a bit of a surprise, at first. Just hearing the audience and the co-hosts shout, "One! Two! Three!" in unison reminded me of getting spanked.

I like being spanked on my birthday. One reason is that I like getting spanked my age over a clothed bottom, over my panties, and then across my bare bottom. The interesting tidbit is that I have never been asked to count each smack across my backside out loud. I do, however, count in my head, which turns me on.

Would I enjoy the semi-embarrassment of counting each smack that I get? I would need to explore this option. My guy, for instance, does keep tabs on how many smacks that he is administering. He, too, counts quietly.

To me, this observation is eye-opening. I am a numbers gal. I nearly majored in mathematics, but settled to minor in the subject as an undergraduate student. Although I have always enjoyed math, my love for the subject would have been heightened if I had applied it to something enjoyable, like spankings.

When I get to see my guy next week, I will need to see if my counting the swats that I receive would arouse us.

I haven't talked much about my guy as of late. The other day, he had told me that his mom had to go into the hospital for an emergency procedure. My guy handles stress well and he took this past week off to be with her. They are both doing well.

I am about to hit the sack. Sadly, counting sheep doesn't turn me on.