A Good Morning and The Bear Story

edited for gramatical improvement.

Friday night was a very good night. Everyone enjoyed each other’s company, and for the first time ever, I got to go to sleep next to ellee and YS. He slept in the middle, and a few times in the night I woke up and turned over to see him sleeping next to me, only to become so excited about this fact that I found it hard to get back to sleep. While this sounds kind of cute when I retell it, it wasn’t very practical.

As is usual for me, I woke up feeling slow moving and like it would have been very easy to become cranky. It was like, 9:30 in the morning when ellee and YS got out of bed, and I considered trying to just resist the entire morning thing and just keep lying there. I’m not sure if ellee did what she did next intentionally, having assumed that this would be the case based on her twinly abilities, or just because she wanted to, but she turned to YS and said “I know a certain Alex and ellee who did not get bedtime spankings last night.” This was my fault: I had gone to bed earlier than the rest of them which had put a kink in the bedtime spanking routine. YS responded to this the way that any reasonable spanking man would: by giving us wake up spankings instead.

Wake up spankings used to seem like an inhumanly cruel idea to me. When Malignus first suggested them to me as a possibility when I was planning my first visit to his place in South Dakota ages and ages ago, I was originally pretty resistant. If I hate being awake in the morning in the first place, why in the name of Science would I want to find myself getting whacked repeatedly before I had even come to my senses? I agreed to give it a try, though, and found it to be very different than I imagined. See, spankings create adrenaline  Adrenaline is the opposite of sleepiness. Spankings also create endorphins. Endorphins are the opposite of grumpiness. I soon discovered that a wake-up spanking was the easiest way for me to transition from sleepytime to the land of the living, and I’m always appreciative when I get them.

YS set ellee and I up side by side and on the bed and spanked us with his hand, giving each of us a few spanks and then moving on to the next adorable, semi-undressed girl that he happened to have in his bed (YS is sometimes referred to as “The Lucky Bastard”). My mood and perkiness improved greatly as the spanking went on, and ellee and I held hands and sort of snuggled while getting spanked as we are known to do. After a bit, YS stopped and went over to some of his luggage.

“What are you doing?” ellee asked.
“I’m looking for some lotion,” YS told her.
“Oh, I have that right here!” she volunteered helpfully. YS turned around and approached us with a London Tanner’s spanking strop.
“I lied. I wasn’t looking for lotion. Lay back down.”
(♥ I love that kind of stuff)

We both got back into position and he continued to spank us with the strap, making us both produce our own distinctive vocalizations. ellee sounds much happier than I do when she gets spanked: she sort of chirps and purrs and makes all sorts of adorable and energetic sounds. I just produce a varying level of gasps, whines, wails and, eventually, sobbing sounds. Just as I don’t fake orgasms, though, I never manufacture these reactions in my personal play. If a spanking doesn’t hurt, I don’t respond vocally. If it does, I generally don’t hold back (although there are situations where some amount of holding back is appropriate). This morning, I was a bit whimpery, and crying out a bit, but still obviously very happy with the strapping I was receiving.

Post spanking coziness

Once we’d both been thoroughly spanked, we somehow ended up getting even further undressed for a bit. Then we finally got dressed and went out to get ellee some makeup products which she had forgotten. After that expedition  where YS also bought us candy and gave us each the occasional stray swat right in the middle of the mall, which I’m not used to at all and which made me blush ferociously, we ate a delicious breakfast then went to finish getting ready for the day. After I got out of the shower, YS directed me to the ironing board which was set up in the corner of the room. He showed me which shirt he wanted to wear that day and asked me to iron it, and to use the lint roller on it and also the pants that he was going to be wearing. This filled me with submissive bliss, as it was the first time I had ever had a chance to do a service-type task for YS (although I had made him sandwiches and things like that before our D/s dynamic started). I decided that for full effect, I had better do my ironing naked. (Dear Prestigious Women’s College from which I graduated: there, there. It’ll be alright.)

YS was pleased with my work and we both got dressed for the day. I asked YS if he wanted to pick out my panties for the day, which was something that would never have happened in any of my other D/s dynamics, but which felt VERY right in this case. He selected a gray, cotton pair that were cute and matched my outfit well (I actually happen to be wearing them RIGHT NOW). As soon as we finished this, he decided that he was going to spank me with my new hairbrush. He had purchased me a Mason Pearson hairbrush off of my amazon wishlist a little while ago as a thank you gift for being such a good girl (awwwww).

Some hairbrush related photos which I took for YS when it first arrived.

I had wanted a Mason-Pearson hairbrush because I had read about them in spanking stories for a long time, and they seemed both classy and mean. They’re plastic, in case anyone doesn’t already know, so I was not entirely sure how much it would actually hurt. I went over YS’s lap again to find out.

It hurt. Specifically, it stung. I could have probably deduced this, since it was a firm but lightweight material. YS was able to get a good rhythm and motion going with it, and my bottom began to be overwhelmed with buzzing, burning, inescapable sting. I put my effort into not resisting, but I made quite a bit of noise. YS wrapped his other arm around my waist while he spanked me, going on and on with no end in sight. It built and built, but because of the nature of the implement, never descended into the gratification of thud, even when he started to give me harder swats. It just stung more. I had wanted to cry during the first spanking that YS had given me the day before, but I was too busy being happy and floaty. This implement was very good for that: it kept me very present and aware, but because of the emotional connection created by having had the implement purchased for me by my Dom, I felt very, very submissive. As both the pain and the submission increased, I started to make sobbing sounds. I didn’t have a full out, proper cry, but I wailed and let go and a few tears came out. YS continued spanking me for however much longer he felt like, and then pulled me up for hugs tiem. It was perfect.

The rest of the day was very nice and it involved lots of fun times with various friends, as well as a few other scenes here and there and a complex and unusual prank involving a burrito which was maybe the funniest thing I’ve ever witnessed. I laughed so hard that tears literally rolled down my face. The most significant thing which occurred during the rest of that day, in my mind, was what I have been referring to when chatting to friends as “The Bear Story.”

Right before we went to pick up YS and ellee, Lily Starr brought me into her room and gave me a present. It was an adorable brown teddy bear with a big, teal bow. As soon as I picked it up, though, I discovered that it was different than other bears. It’s full of lavender and some kind of beans, and it can be put in the microwave to heat it up before cuddling. It’s amazing! It’s also really fun to play with because it’s weighted and kind of heavy. I had a lot of fun swinging it around by it’s various limbs. Lily then gave ellee a matching bear, which made things EVEN MORE PERFECT. Do you know why they make more than one of cute things? It’s EXCLUSIVELY so that ellee and I can have matching ones. Aren’t you glad I’ve explained that? I knew people were probably wondering. 😛 

Unfortunately, this bear caused me a little problem. In addition to enjoying swinging it around, I really, really enjoyed whacking my friends with the bear. I know, I know, this is the most childish thing ever, but it was REALLY satisfying and I REALLY couldn’t stop myself. Now, sometime before the party, I had called ellee to talk about a few things and the topic of people who I sometimes want to punch came up. The conversation had gone something like this:

Me: There are people in the world who I really want to punch, but I probably can’t. 🙁
ellee: Oh! YS is here! Let me ask him! 
ellee (to her husband): YS? Can Alex punch someone if they’re really horrible?
YS (super stern): No. 
YS (loudly, so that I can hear through the phone) Alex, you can’t punch people unless they punch you first or they’re trying to rape you. 
Me: Harumph, yes, Sir. 

That’s the problem with Doms. They’re always making all these rules that prevent me from punching people in the face, or getting hit by cars, or dying in a fire and they go around making sure that I get proper sleep and take care of myself and don’t get arrested. (Thank you, Malignus and YS! I love you!)

Anyway, it had been clearly established before the party that I was not to non-consensually assault people. Really, this is also basically just common sense, and also part of my rules from Malignus, so there’s no excuse for any of this.

But this bear. It was SO GOOD for whacking your friends with. I had done it a little bit without anyone saying anything, but on Saturday afternoon in Beth/Heather/Missy/Stacey/Jules/possibly more people(?)’s suite, I got to swinging the bear around and hit both ellee and Heather. Heather, being a boss of me, wasn’t going to take any bear-smacking, so she grabbed me by the arm and marched me into a corner. My reaction was instinctual, if not entirely logical.
“YS!” I yelled. “Help! Heather’s being mean to me!” YS gave a response about how he was not going to interfere with other people’s dynamics while I stood there with my face in a kind of oddly smelling curtain. Then, I guess either ellee or Heather explained to him why, exactly, I was standing with my face in a kind of oddly smelling curtain.
“Alex!” he scolded. “Did you hit her with your bear?”
“No,” I said, without any understanding of why that word was coming out of my mouth.
“Are you really going to lie to me about this?” he asked.
“…I meant no, I did do it.”
Even though that made absolutely no sense, YS seemed to accept that answer.
Still, he added, “We’re going to have to have a discussion about this later, I think.” I gave a resigned “Yes, Sir,” and returned my face to the corner.
“Oh no, are you mad?” ellee asked, concerned about me, because ellee is the sweetest friend ever.
“No,” YS, consoled her, “I’m not mad. All this means is that Alex is going to get spanked later, which is the whole reason that we’re at this party.”
The promise of being spanked for it later sent a little shiver down my spine, even though I was in an environment where there was zero risk of not getting spanked, and I remained in the corner until Heather decided to let me out.

I rejoined the party and continued to have a nice time. Then, less than an hour later, I was sitting on the couch with ellee, YS and the same bear. ellee said something silly or teasing, and I responded by sort of tossing the bear at her head.
“She just hit me with her bear!” ellee said with shock.
“Okay,” was all the YS had to say about this. What he had to say wasn’t the important part, though. What he did was stand up, grab me by the wrist and lead me to a bar stool at the front of the room. I felt a surge of nervousness. While I was fully aware as soon as the bear-tossing had occurred that I’d probably be spanked for it, it hadn’t occurred to me that it would be done right there, right then in front of everyone. The offense of throwing around bears wasn’t particularly serious, but this was also the first time that I was getting a chastisement style spanking from YS since our dynamic began. He had given me an #offchartbossing “punishment” spanking during the second cabin party, which I described as this:

When ellee and YS arrived, we exchanged some presents that we had collected for each other, because we’re the kind of besties who get each other cute things. ellee is really good at buying presents. I was overjoyed. In the middle of mini-Christmas, though, YS came into the room with an implement and a semi-serious look on his face. Heather, ellee, YS and -lostkitten had carpooled from the airport together, and they had taken longer than I determined acceptable, so I got a little beyond my bounds and sent a text to Heather scolding YS for getting everyone lost and taking too long. This was about to catch up to me in the form of my first spanking of the party. My sense of self preservation must not have been unpacked yet, though, because when he said “You got a little mouthy there, Alex” I responded with “My mouth was not involved! I was texting!”
Surprisingly, this did not save me, and I got ten firm swats, followed by a very nice hug and more presents. Have I mentioned that YS and ellee are pretty much my favorite people ever to live? Yes. That.

What happened this time was not ten firm swats, followed by a very nice hug and more presents. 
YS instructed me to bend over the barstool and he lifted my skirt. Then he asked whose toy bag was on the table. It belonged to StrictDave, and he happily offered the use of his implements. I could hear the distinctive sound of wooden things clattering against each other, to which I have a Pavlovian fear response. I instinctively looked back to see what had been selected. 

“Don’t look back,” YS chided. “Just keep your face forward, hold still and be a good girl.” 
I did my best to do that. YS wrapped his free arm around my waist and began to spank me harder than he had ever before. The spanking was at a rapid pace and, from what I could gather, was with a wooden implement with a short range and a spanking surface about the size of my fist. It was the kind of hurt that burns and buzzes and very quickly overwhelms me, and I am pretty sure that I made pathetic vocalization for basically the entire thing. I don’t remember YS saying anything to me throughout: no scolding or coaxing, just the constant presence of his other arm. That made me feel very Dominated: it was stable, secure, strong and unyielding. These are all important aspects of Dominance to me, and this non-verbal communication had a potent effect. I soon began to cry and apologize, entirely unaware of the fact that there were people around me. My entire world consisted of me, YS, the barstool I was leaning on, whatever implement he was using and an inescapable, undeniable, constant pain. 

The last time that someone attempted to correct me in a public party setting I felt extremely insecure about being observed in such an intimate act, even though it was much less serious and less intimate than this, and I fell into a panicked and upset state and prematurely ended the scene. This time, I was entirely comfortable and entirely unaware of anyone else. It helped that no one interacted with us in a disruptive manner: no suggestions were made, no one announced when I began to cry et cetera. It just happened, and it was perfectly natural. Finally, he finished and wrapped me in a hug. After I regained my calm, I got some ellee hugs as well (apparently her spanking empathy is so strong that she was almost crying watching me, and I assured her that I was not only fine, but I felt very loved and well taken care of). 

Quite soundly spanked.

YS sat back down on the couch and I climbed onto his lap and put my head on his shoulder. He stroked my hair and kissed my forehead. 
“You’re a very good girl still,” he assured me, “but no more assault, even in jest.” I melted into him a bit more. 
“Yes, Sir,” I answered, my voice hardly above whispering, “thank you for correcting me.” ♥

I later discovered that the implement I was spanked with is an incredibly evil hairbrush which should probably not exist. It’s that big type of hairbrush which is somewhere between a hairbrush and a bath brush and could only possibly make itself useful by making girls cry lots and lots. 

Also, this is one of the only times that I’ve told a chastisement story on this blog. I usually consider this to be personal, and often sullied by public sharing but because this one was delivered in a semi-public setting, not over something deeply personal and very important to the narrative of my developing relationship with YS, I’ve decided that I have positive feelings about sharing this. I’ll eventually write a longer post about my feelings towards punishment and the public eye (by which I mean it’s been a draft for approximately 3 months).