"Green."
His hand smooths over my ass, the touch almost reverent. "You have no idea how beautiful you are like this. There’s something incredible about you trusting me and letting me take care of you like this."
Then his hand lifts and comes down with a sharp crack.
I gasp. It stings, but not unbearably. The sensation is more surprising than painful.
Another spank. Then another. He works methodically, alternating cheeks, building heat gradually. At first it’s a sting and then it starts to build. It’s layering until it becomes uncomfortable and swollen but not quite painful.
"How are you doing?" he asks after a dozen swats.
"Okay. It's... not what I expected."
"What did you expect?"
"I don't know. More pain, maybe?"
"This isn't about pain, sweetheart. Tonight is about connecting us, focusing and feeling something physical so you can process the emotional." Another spank, harder this time. "You work so hard to be perfect for everyone else, but you forget to be kind to yourself."
His words hit harder than his hand.
Tears prick my eyes.
"That's it," he murmurs, rubbing my back gently. "Let it out. You're safe."
The spanking continues, the sting building more as the spanks land harder, and something inside me starts to crack open.
I can’t quite put into words what I’m feeling. The pain of his hand landing cuts through the built up walls I’ve had around me, made up of excuses that I knew were wrong. I’ll sleep more next week, I’ll eat a big breakfast tomorrow, I only need four hours of sleep, I’ll take a nap tomorrow. All the ways I justified not taking care of myself. I have big goals but I won’t meet any of them if I collapse. I’ve been carrying around pounds and pounds of pressure. All the expectations, I’ve put on myself and the fears of not being enough.
It pours out of me in waves.
"I'm scared," I gasp. "I'm scared of failing." I gasp out. "I’m scared of disappointing people." His hand keeps falling even though I’m crying out. Another hard swat. "I’m worried I won’t ever be good enough."
"I know, baby. I know." His hand pauses, rubbing gentle circles. "But you don't have to be perfect. You just have to be you."
"What if that's not enough?"
"It's more than enough. You're more than enough." He helps me sit up, pulling me into his lap. "Color?"
"Yellow."
Immediately, his demeanor shifts. "Talk to me. What do you need?"
"I need... I don't know. I feel raw. Vulnerable." I’m not sure I like being this intimate with someone but I don’t hate it either. It’s not a familiar feeling.
"That's normal. A spanking is intense." He kisses my forehead. "Do you want to stop here?"
I think about it. Really think about it. Kinda, I mean my butt is really starting to hurt but I’m also wondering what comes next and how much I can take. I still feel slightly heavy.
"No. I want to keep going. But differently."
"How differently?"
"I want..." God, this is hard to say. "I want to feel itmore.I want to know I can handle it. That I'm strong enough."
Understanding flashes in his eyes. "You want me to push you a little."
"Yes."
