When I was little, I hated getting a spanking. And I got quite a few, I must admit. Sometimes, it was baring my butt and getting a hard, angry hand slapping me so hard I’d cry. That was pretty rare, though. Usually it was spankings with a yardstick, and those were a lot worse, even though they weren’t always on my bare ass. The sound of the ruler was always tremendous, and I remember one or two breaking in use when my mother was particularly pissed off about something I’ve done. Thankfully I never had splinters in my ass.
Now that I’m grown, it’s quite different. It wasn’t something my partner did right away in our relationship – and it started casually. I’d walk past him, and he’d slap my ass. Sometimes it was very soft, and other times it stung. I’d usually jump and laugh and pull away, and sometimes I’d get him back, sneaking up behind him and giving his ass a slap.
I’ve mentioned before that I’m a bit of a tease, and one day I went a bit too far, prompting him to grab me and turn me over his knee. I struggled, not knowing what was coming, and then he spanked me. He didn’t do it terribly hard, but hard enough that it stung. I did like it, and for me it was different than the spankings I’d had as a child, because there was no anger behind it. He wasn’t doing it to hurt me, and it was a bit of a turn on.
We don’t incorporate spanking all the time, or what I consider spanking (which is with the hand only). Sometimes it’s over his knee, and he’ll spank me until my ass is pretty red. Other times I’ll be bound, and he’ll warm me up with a spanking before switching to a flogger, paddle, or crop. As with a lot of things, the anticipation of the next slap is arousing, and even though I can feel my ass burn for quite a while afterwards, I like the feeling. Our spanking is playful, and never a punishment – at most I’d call it a “funishment”, and something to look forward to.
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