Obsession Detection Reflection Correction

Happy Valentine's Day, everyone! I hope you and your partner are enjoying a day of love, lust, and adult recreation. I thought this would be a fine time to post my most recent spanking account. Alas, it doesn't have a Valentine's theme. If you prefer a topical spanking, try this story or this one.

Last week, I posted a poll with relatively little accompanying explanation. The poll questioned whether I was obsessed with the subject of spanking. I’d like to now relate the rest of the story.

The tale began about two weeks ago as I was sitting at the computer and busying myself with answering e-mails and laying out the first of our Implement Series posts. Randy popped into the room, observed what I was doing, and commented, “You’re obsessed with spanking.” His tone didn’t even hint of criticism. In fact, I believe he was probably amused by the thought.

Still, that’s a serious charge to drop on someone. To make matters worse, he retreated before I had an opportunity to rebut his claim. Obsessed? I rolled the word around my brain as I stared blankly at the screen. What if it’s true? As moments passed, I became less certain of my own opinion.

An hour or so later, I confronted Randy about his remark. “Do you really think I’m obsessed?” I asked.

“Why, do you?” There are few things more annoying than a partner who answers a question with another question. He was smiling, but he appeared ready to verbally spar.

“No,” I replied definitively. I had now established my position. I mentally prepared myself to defend it.

“So, let’s ask your readers…” I was unprepared for this parry and demonstrated my overconfidence by agreeing. We decided that I would post a very simply worded poll. In addition, we agreed that the outcome would determine who chose the ground rules for a spanking session planned for the following weekend.

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We now know that the readers believe, by a two to one margin, that Randy is correct. At least in their view, I am indeed obsessed with all things spanking. My dear husband had already promised me a “serious bare-bottomed spanking” should his position be validated. So it was to be.

Saturday evening was the appointed occasion for the payment of my debt. I felt slightly queasy with anticipation all day. I know this might sound silly to some readers because, after all, Randy has spanked me a thousand times before. I know full well that he won’t allow any harm to come to me, beyond the unavoidable posterior distress. Yet, I felt a certain trepidation as I worked though my weekend chores.

We watched a film on television early in the evening and not a word was spoken about what might follow. However, as soon as the credits rolled, Randy gave me explicit orders. We told me to go upstairs to our bedroom, strip, and lie face down on the bed. I considered those words to be fair warning that I was due for the full treatment.

I walked upstairs and positioned my nude body prone atop the bed, just as I had been instructed. As is his habit, Randy waited several minutes before joining me. I presume this time is intended to allow me to fully contemplate my fate, but it’s equally possible that he simply finds something else to temporarily occupy his attention.

Oddly, I didn’t hear Randy on the stairs. My first awareness of his presence was the sound of his hand slowly turning the doorknob to our bedroom. I jumped with surprise. When he walked through the doorway, I was no longer in my designated spot, but had rolled over to see him enter.

“Get back down on that bed like I told you.” His voice was clear and strong. Though his message was mildly scolding, his tone was playful. Obediently, I buried my head in my pillow. My man uttered something about extra strokes, but I was ready to just take my spanking and get it done.

Randy, of course, had other ideas. What I felt next was not a spanking implement striking against my bottom, but his rough hands massaging my shoulders, neck, and upper back. I can’t deny that these sensations felt wonderful, but they had the effect of turning up my nervous tension another notch. Soon, he was repeatedly kissing my skin in conjunction with the rubbing. I gasped when he nibbled my earlobe. If he sought to draw out my carnal desire, it surely worked. But I couldn’t escape that gnawing sense of worried expectation.

When the inevitable spanking came, Randy began by applying his hand. The swats were not only quite tolerable, they felt great. He struck the meaty portion of my bottom just hard enough to raise a nice sting. I entertained the fleeting thought that perhaps I had won the wager after all.

Randy soon after switched to the crop. Our crop is relatively short and light. Unlike the standard equestrian variety, this whip is not terribly severe. With flicking blows, he added punctuation to his earlier message. It definitely hurt, but I was enjoying every minute.

After about five minutes or so (it’s hard to judge time when someone is beating your bottom), Randy brought in the heavy artillery in the form of our dogleg hairbrush. This is such an effective and memorable spanking tool that I chose to feature it for the Implement Stories logo. Little did I realize that my selection would provide inspiration for this event.

The hard, smooth brush generates very different sensations than the crop that preceded it. It’s sufficiently heavy that it inflames the deep tissues of the buttocks as well as the surface. Each impact of the brush yields a loud “thwack” sound. For the recipient, every blow produces an intense, burning pain. After three or four solid swats, I was ready to escape. Fortunately or unfortunately, Randy’s steady left hand in the center of my lower back ensured that I would remain in place until I was thoroughly roasted. Unable to exit, I screamed instead. Undeterred, Randy continued to spank with a slow, regular pace.

Just about the time I thought that I couldn’t possibly accept any more, he dropped the brush. I felt limp. All of my emotions had been emptied out on that bed. Before I had any chance to regain my senses, Randy pulled me up to a hands and knees position by the end of the bed. When his hand explored between my thighs, he discovered a wellspring of desire. “Hmmmm…” He said as if somehow surprised by my body’s reaction to the vigorous spanking.

As he stood at the foot of the bed he grasped my hips, pulled me close, and entered me easily. As we proceeded to make love, the pleasurable coital joy was spiced with acute discomfort from the spanking each time his pelvis made contact with my freshly reddened bottom. I find this blend of sensations to be incredibly intoxicating. He too found his release as we bucked together in lovers’ bliss.

So there you have it. I would like to offer my thanks to everyone who voted, even those who just wanted to see me take a hard spanking. It’s unlikely that I will be making any more bets with Randy any time soon. The again, when one has an obsession, anything is possible.

Valentine’s Day is the perfect occasion to show your love! I encourage you to make it an occasion to remember.

Keywords: spanking, hairbrush, crop, spanking story, spanking and sex, Bonnie, spanking bet