A Regrettable Response

This is part of the B.V. (Before Video) posts – Which are blog posts or writings of accounts that happened years ago, but never were finished and published to our blog. It was also before we started taking pictures of the after effects of these punishment spankings. So the pictures within this post, will be from other spankings, and/or cartoon art to provide some imagery.

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I had been a brat for a little while, but I knew I finally crossed the line when Jess said, “That’s it! I’m taking you to the woodshed.” And while that statement slowed my roll initially, I didn’t feel as much of that “fear in the pit of my stomach” like I might normally. It had been a while since my last trip to the woodshed, and consequently I felt more bravado than normal. As I wandered away, I stated under my breath, “You don’t scare me.”

Well…unfortunately for me, it wasn’t under my breath enough because she heard it and responded, “Oh? I don’t scare you? Is that your final answer?!” As I think I (or maybe Jess) mentioned in my eBook, she doesn’t like to be challenged. And from the tone in her voice, I cringed at what I just did. Then she said, “We’ll see how long you want to stand by that statement tomorrow.”

The next day I came into the family room where she was on couch, looking at her smartphone, and having a cup of coffee. But I immediately noticed her Wicked leather belt, and the Spencer paddle were on the coffee table. I also noticed she was wearing her “paddling sandals”.

And her belting sandals just off to the side.

I remember the exact thought in my head…”This is not good.”

She looked at me and calmly stated, “You know what? I am going to blister your butt. I am going to spank you so hard that you WILL be scared of the consequences I can bring. First I am going to spank you until you cry. And then do you know what I’m going to do?”

“No Ma’am.” I meekly replied.

“I’m going to keep spanking you until you’re bawling. And then I may even continue until you’re sobbing.”

I knew I had messed up. And any damage control I could do now to calm her down, would be smart. So I began…”I’m sorry my Queen.”

“Stop. Talking.” she quickly interrupted. Then she continued, “I want you to pick up my belt and paddle. Hold one in each hand and kneel here by the end of the couch. From this point on, you’re not going to sit comfortably until I’ve had a chance to properly address you and your backside. And then…it is going to be a few days before you sit comfortably again. And while you kneel there, you will look at my feet, my toes, my sandals, OR, you can look at the belt in your one hand, or the paddle in the other. Those are your only options on where you can look. If I look over and see you looking ANYWHERE else…I’m going to add lashes to the end of the spanking with my Wicked Switch. Or should I just have you get it now, and do the whole spanking with that?

😳 “Uh NO, no Ma’am.” I stumbled trying to get the words out quickly.

“Ok, then I suggest you follow directions to a ‘T’ and focus.” she quickly replied.

Damn, she hadn’t done anything like this before. And now I WAS scared of her and the spanking that was coming my way. I wanted to tell her that right then and there, that I take it all back. But I knew better than to talk unless answering a question from her. My goose was cooked! I just had to kneel there and follow her instructions, while waiting for the doomsday countdown to hit zero. And what made it worse, was I had no idea when that was going to be. But knew it was inevitable, and going to happen soon.

It was quiet for a minute or two, when she posed the question, “What is a real spanking?”

Making sure to look at her sandaled feet, I quickly responded with the norm, “A spanking with something harsh, hard but in control, one swat after another with no long pauses and no rubbing the butt in between.”

She almost seemed annoyed with my canned response. And sternly said, “Tell me what a real spanking is, using different words.”

F*ck. I didn’t know what she wanted, and I was afraid to give the wrong answer, but knew I had better come up with something. Anything. Not answering her was not an option.

“Uhm…a real spanking is a spanking on the bare butt, a spanking that is a painful punishment, a deterrent and attitude adjustment all at the same time.” I responded, and was actually impressed with my own answer. But she didn’t seem impressed. But…she didn’t seem annoyed either. I guess that was progress?

Jess: Between the spanker and the spankee…who decides on what day the spanking will happen?”

Me: “The spanker.”

Jess: “Who decides on what implements to use?”

Me: “The spanker.”

Jess: “Who decides WHEN the spanking is going to start?”

Me: “The spanker.”

Jess: “Who decides on how hard the spanking should be?”

Me: “The spanker.”

Jess: “Who decides on when the spanking should end?”

Me: “The spanker.”

Jess: “And who is the spanker in our situation?”

*For half a second, I heard the idiot part of my brain try to get me to respond, “Me!” But thank goodness I had enough sense to suppress that response. I’m sure it would’ve gotten me a full on whuppin’ with the Wicked Switch. *shudders*

Me: “You are my Queen.”

Jess: “And who is the spankee in our situation?”

Me: “I am.”

Jess: “So…it would seem to me, that knowing all that, one might be just a little fearful when the spanker threatens the miscreant with a woodshed whuppin’. Wouldn’t you think?”

I couldn’t wait to respond, this was likely my only chance to do some damage control. “Absolutely my Queen, I’m SO sorry I said such a dumb thing. I don’t know what got into me but I…”

“Stop. Talking.” She sternly commanded. Then she stated, “I’m going to sit here and surf on my phone, and finish my coffee. And when ~I~ decide it is time for your spanking, then I will take you to the woodshed, and address your arrogant and disrespectful attitude and statement. And what are you going to be doing?”

I quickly responded, “I’m going to be looking at your feet, toes, sandals, paddle or belt. Just like you told me my Queen.”

“Good. Now pay attention to these additional directions, as failure to follow them will have harsh consequences.” She stated.

“Yes Ma’am.” I quickly replied.

“Whenever ~I~ decide that it is time for your spanking, I’m going to get up and walk over to you. If I’m wearing my paddling sandals when I get to you, then you will hand me the paddle, get up and go pick up my belt whuppin’ sandals, and follow me to the woodshed carrying my belt and matching sandals. If I’m wearing my belt whuppin’ sandals when I get to you, then you will hand me the belt, get up and go pick up my paddling sandals and carry them along with my paddle, to the woodshed. Do you understand?”

“Yes Ma’am.” I dejectedly responded.

“Is there a problem.” She questioned.

“No Ma’am. None whatsoever.” I quickly answered. Even though I was looking at her feet and sandals, I could FEEL her looking at me as to determine if I was being difficult or unruly. Which I wasn’t. The reality of getting what was likely to be the worst spanking of my life was just setting in. And now as I knelt there looking at her feet, belt and paddle, fear was growing within as was remorse. I was SO regretting that dumb statement. Why do I do things like this? I kept focusing on keeping my eyes only on the areas I was told. I knew she was set on making a point, and that this spanking was going to bad enough; I didn’t want to add the switch to it.

I looked at her feet as she dangled her sandal on her crossed leg. And while I find her sandal dangling sexy, at this moment it made me think of the paddle in my hand. I then looked down at the paddle. I hate this paddle. It stings so bad. I was hoping she would decide on giving me a belting first as I thought getting it with the paddle first would be worse. Back to looking at her feet. Her feet are so pretty, and there was such a strange feeling of sexiness, fear and awareness of her power that came over me as my mind connected the sandals with the paddle, and the other sandals with the dense leather belt in my other hand. As I knelt, I remember thinking of just wanting to kiss her feet. But now I knew that the next time I would be doing so, would be with a wrecked and throbbing butt, along with a tear-stained face.

And just like that, there was that feeling in the pit of my stomach. As I realized time was passing, I knew that in any moment, she would get up and decide my fate. Urges of self-preservation hit and I almost felt like running away. Or asking for a timeout to ask her if this harsh a spanking was really necessary. But then I gathered a little composure and was almost upset with myself for trying to take an easy way out. Going back to the beginning of all this…~I~ asked her to hold me accountable by way of real spankings. Well…as she very plainly walked through it with me…what was forthcoming, was going to be as real a spanking as ever. Real spankings ARE fearsome. Real spankings ARE painful. Real spankings ARE cause for some anguish in the moments leading up to them. Yes…this what adding real spankings to your life can look and feel like.

But in this moment I also remembered that real spankings ARE very effective for me. And when I’ve been a brat (read: jerk), they DO settle me the hell down. And that I actually like the fact that I choose to submit myself to her for this kind of accountability, even if real punishments are quite severe and rough to get through.

So…as I’m having my thoughts and still trying to focus on not looking directly at her, I hear her coffee mug hit the coaster, and the realization that “it is TIME”, sends another shock wave of fear into my stomach. I peripherally see the movement of her getting up, and I’m hoping, hoping, hoping that she slips off her paddling sandals and slips into the belting ones. When my prayers are answered! As I can look down at her feet, I watch her slip out of her paddling sandals and into her Brown Rainbow sandals. But my relief is very brief as I lift up the dense leather belt to her knowing what is coming. She takes it and starts walking towards our room, aka The Woodshed. I quickly get up and go pick up her paddling sandals, and follow her, watching the belt already doubled over, in her right hand, and slightly swinging with her steps. Fear hits again, but I remind myself that I fully earned this with my cocky attitude, and stupid statement, and I’m about to taught a very real lesson, the hard way.

I follow her into the woodshed when she calmly says, “Put my sandals and paddle on the bed. I want them in front of you so you can see what is coming for your behind next.” You can even shed a tear or two on them if you’d like.”

I position them on the bed, when she says the dreaded command, “Assume the position.”

I quickly unbuckle my belt, and take off my shorts and underwear, and put them off to the side. Then bend over the end of the bed, and am now looking at the paddle and paddling sandals in front of me. I see her footprints in her paddling sandals and almost feel a brief second of arousal, which I welcome. Anything to help get me through this – SMACK! Without warning, the first belt lash land hard. And a grunt/cry out escapes my mouth, as my knee slightly buckles and I quickly regain position in time for SMACK! The second one hurt more than the first, which is kind of how most beltings/spanking go. SMACK! She’s in her belting rhythm, and the swats are quickly taking their toll. My grunts turn to cry outs, which then turn to cries.

I’m holding onto to the comforter as I often do during a spanking, and I notice/focus on the paddle and sandals on the bed in front of me as the next lash of the belt lands. There is no arousal to be found, that dude left the building after the first swat! The only thing I’m experiencing is the pain in my backside, and my mind racing as I try to stay in position. And the mixed feeling of pain and fearfulness of the paddling to come. I remember looking at the clock on her nightstand as I often do, knowing that each minute passing, is another minute towards the end of my spanking.

As this spanking was before we were recording video, I don’t know how many she gave me with the belt from one side. But according to our spanking log, I had guessed around 80 total, so…approximately 40 on this side. Then as she always does, she walked over to the other side of the bed, and started with her backhanded belting, for the remaining 40 or so.

Side note as I’m inserting these pics…For those of you who have seen our real spanking videos of Jess spanking with her belt, you already know that she swings every bit as hard with her backhand, as she does with her forehand. Quite impressive actually.

Anyway, as she was belting from the second side, I was kind of already crying. Not full on crying, but tears in my eyes and crying out with each harsh lash.

When she was done spanking me with her belt, she tossed it onto the bed, just to the right of the paddle and sandals. And just like always, I feel a sense of relief that the belting is over, knowing that we are halfway through the spanking. Immediately followed by the sense of dread that the paddling is coming, and that…we’re only halfway through the spanking. 😫 Very interesting thought dynamic.

She then picked up the sandals, and I heard her drop them on the floor. She then put the Rainbow sandals that she was just wearing, on the bed right in front of me and next to her belt. Then picks up the Spencer paddle. Another tinge of fear in my gut, as I know the hellfire sting of the paddle is coming next.

I felt the coolness of the paddle on my “on fire butt”, for just a second as she lined up her distance, and again without warning, she began. SMACK, SMACK, SMACK, etc. it was probably within the first 3 to 5 hard swats with the paddle, where the overwhelming sting was too much, and I began crying openly. The intense stinging from the swats continued for what I later guessed was 30 to 40 swats. I really don’t know for sure. I was just grabbing onto the comforter and doing my best to maintain position as I cried.

Then heard the beginning of the end, as she stated, “Ten more. Count ’em.” SMACK – ONE! Thank you. SMACK! TWO THANK YOU! And so on throughout the 10. I was counting through a crying voice as quickly as I could, as I did not want to pause or give her any additional reason to add additional swats to the end of the spanking.

Finally, the last swat lands and I am SO relieved it is over. But per protocol, I stay bent over. She puts her hand on the small of my back, and calmly, almost softly asks, “Are you scared of me and my punishments now?”

“Oh God yes My Queen. I’m so sorry. That was the dumbest thing I’ve ever said.”

She laughed and added, “Well, I don’t know if it’s the dumbest thing you’ve said, but it was up there.”

I nervously chuckled and said, “Well I know I don’t ever want to say THAT again.”

Then she told me those wonderful words, “You’re spanking is over.” And then backed up a step and pointed to her foot. I immediately knelt down and started kissing in earnest, the foot she had put forward. Then she switched to the other foot. After a brief moment, she handed me the paddle and said, “Ok, put this away and meet me downstairs to watch TV. I took the paddle from her hand and watched her reach over, pick up her belt and start putting it back on. A slight chill went down my spine as she looked right at me as she was doing it, and as I remembered what she, and that belt can do. I got up and put the paddle away as she left the room.

I went to our bathroom and looked at my backside. I wished I/we were at least taking pictures at this time, because it was one of my “better” wrecked backsides. LOL. I could already feel the soreness and some residual sting as I pulled my underwear back on, and then my shorts.

I walked downstairs and she was on the couch with a glass of wine. On the coffee table was a low ball with some bourbon in it. “I took the liberty of pouring you a drink my bad boy.” she stated.

“Thank you my Queen. And it’s FORMERLY known as bad boy.” I replied. She smiled and kind of chuckled. I gingerly sat on the couch, and took a drink.

She asked, “How’s your backside?” I quickly replied, “Oh, I can tell it is going to be sore for days to come.” “Good.” she quickly responded. Then continued, “Your extreme arrogance told me that it had been WAY too long since your last attitude adjustment, or that I haven’t been giving you REAL enough spankings as of late. So, I felt the need to kick it up a notch. I hope you learned your lesson, because I can still take it up a notch if needed.”

Jeez, the thought of her giving a worse spanking than what I just got, put fear right back in the pit of my stomach. I couldn’t wait to reassure her with, “No Ma’am. I’ll remember. I’ve learned and once again apologize for such arrogance.”

She smiled and said, “Well good. I’m glad to hear it.” Then she said, “If you want, you can lay on my lap while we watch TV. That’s one of my favorite things, as she’ll play with my hair when I lay my head on her lap. And I remember it being such a crazy contrast of the wonderful feeling she was giving me with her nails lightly going through my hair, with the same hand that wrecked my backside just moments ago. A backside that was still feeling the effects with my every movement, as I feared her, and loved her all the more.