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[Posted to soc.sexuality.spanking,
23 March 2000]
Yes, this January Pablo and I
had another one of our tearful airport goodbye scenes. <Ignoring
the rolling eyes as sentiment overflows yet again> While
this time I wasn't consoled by any pilots or 'uniformed crew
members', I did manage to be blinded by tears walking out of
the airport and knock over a small child (and what was it doing
on its own anyway???) before walking face first into a pole
and giving myself a bloody nose.
(An aside: I would swear that
Pab himself got a little misty as he boarded. His feeling terrible
about leaving does always make me feel soooo much better.)
The airport aside, this was a wonderful visit.
We did all sorts of kewl stuff even aside from the retreat with
my staff. Highlights included playing a spanko
version of Trivial Pursuit with some friends. This was done
as a switching game and happily I got to whack Pablo in front
of people while he tried to play stoic. Unhappily I'd already
been spanked lots that day and plus was wearing a very
thin skirt - the levels included 'clothed' (for missing questions),
'over underclothing only' (missing pie questions) and bare (missing
final questions) - while Pab was wearing jeans. Okay and there
were different implements to go with different colors. But this
was the Warner Brothers version which is so so so so hard because
who watches Warner Bros TV after all? So anyway, even though
these whacks were over clothing, they started to really really
hurt because I was so sore. How sore? By the end I was begging
for my smacks to go on my thighs. Nuff said I think!
Mostly though, our time together
was very quiet and gentle. The fact we seem to need each other
more and more and find being together as natural as breathing
sometimes makes it hard to remember how finite the time truly
is. Honestly I usually have a hard time handling our partings,
but this time it was nearly impossible. The only thing that
got me through it was that Pab kept telling me that it was the
last time he'd visit before he'd be coming to stay. Yes, that's
the good news. Sometime in the next 6-9 months Pablo is finishing
his degree and moving here. The hard part is not knowing before
then when or if we'll be seeing each other.
I got spanked and swatted and
smacked a lot this week. Mostly play (though some of it serious
play, you know?), but I'd mostly been really good since November
so there weren't many punishments. In fact there was only one.
For reasons best known to him, Pablo put it off to this morning.
I'd honestly thought he'd forgotten or decided not to do it,
until last night when we were getting ready for bed when he
told me he was going to punish me in the morning. My stomach
tightened and turned over because what I'd done was so stupid
and had broken a promise I'd made to him on the only rule that
was made by him without my direct participation.
I smoked once - even though I
have asthma, and everything. Don't tell me it was dumb, that
point's been really well made, okay? :( Not ever ever smoking
is one of the only rules that Pablo made without me. That is,
it wasn't something I suggested he help me with or sorta helped
decide it would be a good idea. It's something he feels really
strongly about and that I understood, or was supposed to understand,
was just not something I would ever ever do. But I did it. And
then rather than lie (which I would have been able
to do but good a couple of years ago) I told the truth when
he asked me. Which is why the horrid hairbrush isn't part of
Anyway, this morning he helped
me put on a white shirt, short black pleated skirt, burgundy
school knickers, school tie, ankle socks and shoes. Those of
you who've read Mr. Stubbs' fiction won't be surprised to hear
the uniform was very very neat and the collar was stiff and
tight. He even brushed my hair into <gulp> pigtails. Then
we 'talked' (okay, he talked, I sat very straight and nodded).
Dressed like that, treated like that, I always feel like a kid,
even have to fight my lisp returning. Then he pulled my wooden
desk chair to the center of the room and sat on it and had me
come over to stand in front of him. Two years ago I'd have been
resisting like all heck. But something happened to me this summer
when we were living together - I think like my brain finally
put together that 'Stupid, if you keep resisting him and pushing
him he's gonna whack you harder. Be good, dummy.' Plus too,
I really do want to be good, you know?
So I'm standing there thinking
'my o my this skirt is short' and he tells me to hold
it up, front and back, and then pulls my knickers down to my
knees. This is really really embarrassing too. And the next
thing I know I'm over his knee getting a very very upclose view
of the carpet and holding onto the chair. Pablo just used his
hand, but he can't have been holding much back and started very
very very hard. And I'm trying to be brave as these loud
spanks come down in my dorm room and echo off the walls. I'm
supposed to be all tough but I started whimpering almost right
away and found that tears had started. I'm not sure how many
there were, but he helped me up and into the corner where I
stood really still even though my skirt was pinned up and I
could hear terrible sounds in the room.
Finally he called me over to
sit on the bed where we 'talked' some more before he tied my
wrists and ankles with my school ties and then put me face down
on the bed where I flopped like a giant tuna. (Anne means 'grace'
you know.) Pablo had taken out the ruler (which was for my legs
if I tried to get stuff untied - that thing totally stings and
there was no way in heck I was going to try and escape) and,
worst of all, the tawse. This horrible Adam and Gillian creation
scares me even more than the hairbrush paddle and black nylon
cane (also produced by their sadistic craftspeople). Maybe those
do hurt more, I'm not sure. But the tawse stings and
hurts like hell and is relatively harmless on a damage
level. That means Pab seems to feel no real need to use caution
or not whack very hard a huge number of times. It's hellish
for that reason alone. But also it feels (more than a belt does,
oddly enough) more like the strappings my father gave me than
anything else we use. So the head space is terrible too.
Pablo started hard across my
bottom, letting the ends sometimes wrap, sometimes just land
on one side (and worst of all in the middle). I could hardly
breathe and was panicking, thinking I'd scream and someone would
come in and see me tied and getting strapped. (Don't even laugh,
it wouldn't be funny if you were me.) Pablo
seemed to ignore me and just kept going, all the way down to
the upper part of my thighs. Then he paused and I thought it
was over, but he'd just moved to my shoulder and brought the
tawse down horizontally so the tips dug into those
tender places at the top of my legs. I know I screamed and begged
a little and when another landed on the other side I flipped
myself over (it was easier than it sounds 'cause I was levitating
by then). I thought Pab would either be mad or stop but he was
very gentle, stroking and soothing me like a little animal until
I started breathing normally and then turned me back over and
kept on. (Some of those were aimed right in the middle and
on the inside which is just plain mean so don't start thinking
he's all nice or something.)
Finally there were six last very
very very hard ones and then it was over. By then I was sobbing
out loud because this really really hurt and plus I felt terrible
that I'd had to be punished on our last morning together (though
come to think of it, that was really his fault after
all since he'd decided to put it off so long <scowl>).
Anyway I couldn't move while he untied me which he did and then
rubbed some lotion on my very very sore skin.
I know he's spanked me harder
and certainly left more marks, but never has it been so intense.
The feeling that what was happening was beyond my control was
both devastating and liberating. As I think of it right now
it seems so much to represent our relationship.
And reminds me that he's coming
back. For good.
Aside from that, any time I see
someone smoking and think how kewl it looks, I remember how
much that tawse hurt as it landed across my thighs.
Back to the treehouse