The Need

“It’s been awhile,” I whisper to the thick paddle while my finger trails its 18-inches as one might trace a lover’s sternum.  Hello, old friend.

“It has.  You remember what this can do?”

“It’s horrible. Really awful. I’m going to be bruised, aren’t I?” I’m going to cry. I’m going to fight to stay in position.  I’m going to beg you to stop. I’m going to remember this night and what it means, aren’t I?

“Yes.” He is blunt. There will be bruises.

A lump forms in my throat.

I examine the thick length of wood, an implement reserved — until now — for discipline.  I look at him, weighing the paddle against the man. I am close to saying no.  Close, but then I remember us and find the strength to stand and begin to hike up my skirt, unprompted.

Firm Hand Spanking, with Amelia Jane Rutherford

“You’re not ready for the paddle,” he says from the bed.

Hope blooms, beatific: an unasked-for reprieve.

“Yet,” he pronounces. The reprieve would be brief, I realize as he pats his thighs.  It will be brief enough that I won’t have time to change my mind.

Bring the paddle, I suggested earlier that week.

I want to face my worst adversary with you behind me.  I want the strength to submit and emerge bruised but victorious.  I want to pay for crimes not committed, stand accused yet proven innocent.  I need the paddle. I need to take what you give, just because you give it.

 

Post Categories: D/s, Favorites, fine romance, real-life spankings
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Comments
  • Mmmmm – Lovely! *sigh* Very sensuous… I do love a good paddling and the anticipation here is delicious!

    🙂 TMT

  • Gern Blandershphelt says:

    Such submission, simply beautiful.

  • D says:

    There will be no tight fitting clothes for a few days. Sitting and walking will be as deliberate and measured as the swing and impact of the ‘bruiser’.

  • Michael says:

    Wow, Miss Pink, such beauty and strength all in one fabulous package. You show your strength in your willful submission as you proudly display your bruises of victory. You are an amazing woman.

  • dd says:

    Pink, this was a lovely post.

    BBH is wary of all wooden implements, although he has used pervertibles 🙁

    The cane is his stronegst implement of choice and I don’t resist it.

    Submission is a very turbullent thing.

    • Pink says:

      It really is. We talked about the “push-pull” before, and here it is almost the same. I want it, but I don’t. I fear it, but I ask for it. Turbulent is an excellent word.

      And it is wise to be wary of wood.

      XX

  • Lea says:

    Asking for the paddle? Sometimes I do things like that and think to myself, what on Earth is the matter with me? And the answer is nothing, nothing at all.

  • Pandora says:

    Fantastic description of what it’s like to voluntarily strap yourself in for a rollercoaster ride. There’s nothing wrong with being a thrill junkie; and aren’t we always being told it’s healthy and courageous to face our fears?

    I have a similar relationship with the paddle, but I tend to keep it for very occasional use, as in reality I find the sensation numbing, unerotic, like a sound that’s too loud and goes on too long and leaves you slightly deaf. To me, in terms of physical sensation, the cane is an example of an implement that’s stimulating, sensitising, attunes you to nuance; and the big wooden frat paddle is the opposite, desensitising and blaring. Too much of that and I think the horrifying, scary, bruising paddle of my fantasies would lose some of its appeal, and I like my fantasies.

    But yes, I need to dip my toe in the water occasionally, just to prove that I still can. And whenever I do, oh my god, the fear turns me on more than just about anything else.

    • Pink says:

      Yes, the fear. What a rush that is. Of course, two smacks after it begins I wonder what made me think it was a good idea. The before, middle, and after parts more than make up for the initial jarring effects of the paddle. And it’s nice to see the rare bruise in the mirror. (I am one who doesn’t hold marks for long.)

      I am learning to love the cane’s many moods (aided in part by some of your writing, Pandora). My reaction to it is unpredictable and not dependent on the intensity of use, but rather the tension between us. So I believe it to be a more evocative implement above any others.

      Oh, and I think that we might just be the bravest and healthiest of women. 🙂

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