As many of my spanko friends can attest, spankings can be quite therapeutic. It may or may not surprise you (given all the spankings I get on a regular basis) that I requested a spanking before Daddy left for work this morning. Yesterday was a hard day. One of my closest friends, who recently lost her husband at the age of 40, came to have dinner with us. She came a bit early, before Daddy got home from work, so we had our first “girl chat” since the funeral. She is, understandably, a mess.
I shouldered her grief and was able to be her sounding board, her voice of reason. Her thoughts are not clear right now, coupled with a few too many glasses of wine. I don’t blame her one iota for this behavior. I can’t even imagine losing my husband, let alone at this age.
But when she left, I was thoroughly depleted. Daddy and I typically watch an episode of our show together in the evenings (currently watching Peaky Blinders), but I begged off and told him that I just needed to decompress. I felt confident that I would not be able to focus on the TV, and I needed to just sit and experience my emotions. I sat in my writing chair for two hours, listening to music, before he took me to bed.
Since I’ve been laying off the tipple (my new favorite word for booze), getting a full night’s sleep has not been then norm. My Fit Bit tells me that I got 4.5 hours, but I assure you that it was not restful sleep. I was up before the sun. Before my Daddy woke up for work, as is our new routine, I crawled back into bed with him so that he might wake up with me in his arms. We are both loving this addition to our morning routine. I whispered to him that I was still feeling a bit off and requested that he spank me before going to work. He agreed.
“I love you, little one, and I will always take care of you,” he told me. “When I get out of the shower, I want to see you in the closet, bottom bare and presented to me.”
I whispered, “Yes, Daddy,” and kissed him on the cheek.
I went into our walk-in closet a little early. I could hear the water running in the shower as I tugged down my pajama pants and let them fall to my ankles. I bent over our toy chest, with my bare bottom in position. It felt good to wait like this, knowing that he would be there shortly to help relieve some of the emotional stress that I was feeling.
When he arrived, he said, “Good girl.” He then began to spank me with his hand. The smacks grew harder and eventually he reached into the drawer and pulled out the tawse. If you have never been whipped with a tawse, I’ll tell you that it draws tears quite quickly.
And, the tawse did not disappoint. With each strike, I could feel my stress leaving me, as the pain built across my backside. Tears came and I pleaded that I’d had enough, but Daddy is wise to my pleas. He didn’t stop until he was sure that I’d found the release I was needing.
So…as odd as it might sound, for some of us spanking is a form of self-care. I will take care of myself in other ways today too… exercise, healthy food choices, reciting the mantra my dear lady wrote for me, and completing my to-do list (which makes me feel good about me)…but I will do all of this with the sore bottom that Daddy gave me.
I love you, Daddy.
Have a good day my friends. Thinking of you, always.