Her Gift…Unbridled Adoration from Heated Discipline

You may this an interesting title but in the world of D/s, couples go through many cycles, the journey being fraught with all kinds of stumbling blocks. Adoration and discipline go hand in hand. We’ve talked a little bit about them before, but what I realized this week is that some of the simple pleasures more traditional vanilla couples are allowed to experience can be lost with D/s couples. Why? I think there’s a lot of pressure that couples place on themselves in trying to keep up appearances. This includes with your job and family, friends and those at church, the PTA members or just the circle at the water cooler. Even the very best BFF you have – do you feel comfortable telling her your inner dark secret? We powerfulall have one or five. Whether you’ve had an affair or you crave your next door neighbor, there’s something. Perhaps you have a minor arrest record and if anyone found out you could lose your job. Then there are the subtle secrets such as harboring a collection of sex toys. Here’s the thing – women usually tell all. What’s interesting is that some living in a D/s lifestyle just feel like they can’t. The risk seems too great.

There is still a HUGE taboo in many countries about living any alternative lifestyle. That’s a little bit what this story is about but there’s another side as well – the unbridled adoration you have for each other in the lifestyle. You want to share. You want to scream to the world you’ve finally found your place with a human and with passion – but for a dozen or so reasons you feel like you can’t. Maybe you hide to the point the folks around you see nothing more than a boring old married couple. Yes, my conversations with John Patrick have been both enlightening and very raw. Talking and feeling extreme passion while contending with worries around you is very draining. It’s also very powerful. The very moment you know you can take this journey, you long to take this journey, then the very second you fully understand you have to is… Well, the feeling is intoxicating. Then the terror hits. What? How? Can I? What if? Words like failure and not good enough, wanting to be everything and longing to give you everything suddenly roar right past your mouth. Remember the passion and the emotion intertwined with a D/s relationship is all encompassing.

John Patrick was telling me about a friend, one who exclaims every day about some new girl or a hot night, and he wants to be able to say something, tell someone. That’s such a simple thing in a relationship right? Well imagine if you were curtailed, if you just didn’t believe you could say a word? I don’t know. I’ve thought about this. I have told a friend and she knows me well. Then again, she’s into writing erotic and figured out she’s a Domme. So there is no chastisement, no need to fear her words. NOT that I honestly care what people think. I put myself out there all the time – for good or bad. Yes, I’m cautious about people I work around but the truth is, if you want to find out about what I write or my belief in all things kinky, all ya gotta do is Google me.

But if you have a job where people could really judge you, a family that can’t accept any differences and friends who are on the conservative side of the junction box, what are you really going to do? To each their own, but I know being able to talk about the joy involved is so freeing. When two people adore each other they tend to glow anyway. I know – that’s my girlie moment, the one I complain about with him all the time. But isn’t it the truth? My discussions with John Patrick have been enlightening and the exploration amazing. I think that’s helped in writing these sexy little flashes. Let’s get back to the story and think about how you’d tell your best friend the news you were going to be collared and owned, serving as an obedient submissive for the rest of your life…

Jasmine shifted in her seat and winced. The spanking had been severe but very needed. She’d been mouthing off to Zack lately and she was using the excuse of long hours at work and the upcoming wedding. She’d ceremoniously taken one of those excuses away. Shit. Shit. Shit. When she crossed her legs the pressure on one particular spot, the very one he seemed to have concentrated on with his belt, made her moan audibly. She could tell Gracie was having some difficulty accepting the words or the idea. Still, the girl hadn’t jumped up from the table and run screaming from the restaurant so that was certainly a positive aspect.

“Okay. Now I have to ask,” Gracie started as she wrapped her hand around the oversized margarita glass.

“You can ask anything.” Perhaps a very stiff drink would help prepare her for answering questions, the ones only Gracie could pepper off like a bottle rocket. The glass seemed extraordinarily heavy today. For some reason she scanned the restaurant, observing the good people of Richmond who were just out enjoying a basic sunny day. They were dressed in various types of clothing from shorts and tee shirts to lovely spring dresses and heels. The place was packed given its reputation and enticing food and what caught her off guard was the realization that any one of them could be living an alternative lifestyle. There was no way of telling since the majority of adults, the ones living a life filled with work and church, playtime and family, refused to openly display what they hungered for. Hell, she was no different. When she was younger she used to call masking being a hypocrite. Now… She sighed and took a long gulp. The burn tingled almost as much as her throbbing ass did.

Gracie leaned over and whispered, the tone a throaty rasp. “Why are you antsy and in pain?”

The question caught Jasmine off guard.

“Do I want to know?”

“Well…” she started and swirled the tip of her finger around the rim of the glass, gathering several beads of salt. Bringing her finger to her mouth she licked the tip as not usuallyshe thought about the way in which he’d issued her punishment. The newly finished playroom was well stocked with what he called his favorite goodies, a collection of disciplinary implements Zack had collected over a few years. His collection was sheer joy and using just the right one to spank her ass, legs, back, pussy and her breasts was an art form for him. “I had a very difficult but well deserved whipping last night.” Yep, now the words floored the girl in front of her, the one who took no shit, feared no man.

“Wha…what?” Gracie finally breathed and took three gulps of her drink, coughing after each one.

“Yes. I was a very bad girl and he spanked me.” When Gracie still didn’t say anything she smiled. “That’s what happens in these types of relationships. When I do something wrong I’m punished for my infractions.”

“You said…you said whipping. What does that um…mean?”

“What does it mean?” My God the girl was positively white. Taking her linen napkin, Jasmine reached over and wiped the rolling beads of sweat from Gracie’s face. “Breathe for me. Just breathe.” She leaned further over the table and looked directly in her best friend’s eyes. “I am a well spanked woman. I receive at least three spankings a week, usually more given I can’t seem to keep my mouth shut.” Gracie had to have sucked the entire atmosphere out of the restaurant.

“What…does…that…mean?”

“Girl. You have to know what that means. If I break a rule, lie or not tell Zack where I’m going or if I yell at him, you know that kind of thing, I’m sent to the corner. That gives him time and he figures out what he’s going to do.”

“Sent to the corner?” Gracie croaked.

“Yes. Then he decides how he’s going to spank me.”

“How?” Her hand was shaking as she brought the glass to her lips.

Jasmine watched as a good quarter cup flowed over the tipping edge and onto the tablecloth. All she could think of was the disdain the waiter would think at how messy they were. “Yes, there are various methods. He might use his hand, taking me over his knee or he might make me lie down on the bed, my ass in the air on a pillow. Sometimes he removes his belt and pushes me over his desk at the house. Those hurt like hell. I can tell you that,” Jasmine mused as she laughed. Of course she was animated, the images of being tied, spread eagled over the new spanking bench continued to leave her filled with apprehension. “Then there’s the times in the playroom. Lordy that man knows how to use a cane.”

Gracie blinked.

She took a wonderful drink of her margarita, savoring the frothy goodness as she remembered the way the belt licked against her naked ass. Yes, she hated the fact she was punished like a little girl, but she’d embraced the understanding the control as well as the strict discipline was good for her.

“A belt? A cane?”

“Yes. And he uses paddles and switches, floggers and other implements as well. It’s his choice and Zack is very creative.”

“Creative.” Gracie looked aver her shoulder and licked her lips.

Suddenly she sensed others close by were clueing in on their conversation. A flush of heat swept up from her chest to her neck and face. She’d never told anyone she was spanked – not a single soul. Originally she’d told herself the concept was nobody’s business. Now she realized she didn’t want or need the scrutiny, not with her profession or from her friends. Another couple of sips of the stiff drink and she garnered a smidge more courage. “Yes, Zack matches my spankings with the infraction. When I’ve broken the more cardinal types of rules like lying to him, he generally pulls out his belt, whipping me all over. Last night the spanking was exactly what I deserved. I lied not once but twice. Man oh man I won’t do that again.” Well, maybe she would. She was having so much difficulty lately.

Gracie sat back in her seat and looked out the oversized window, remaining First Spankingunblinking.

Yes, there were definitely a few folks clueing into their conversation. Jasmine darted a quick glance over at the couple, who was way too interested. She offered a beaming smile with a fuck off and die look attached. They quickly got the message and looked away. “Assholes,” she said under her breath.

A full minute ticked by.

Jasmine studied the nervous tick on the corner of her best friend’s mouth and a few seconds later she laughed, trying to ease the tension. “Gracie, he doesn’t beat me or anything. This isn’t about abuse in any way. As a matter of fact, I’ve never seen a man so caring about me during and after my punishment. Yes, does every spanking hurt, some more than others? Well, duh. Of course they do. They’re supposed to. I’m receiving punishment for breaking the rules.”

Tick. Tock.

“Fine. Here I thought I could tell my best friend anything,” Jasmine hissed through clenched teeth. “I thought we could talk about things like, oh I don’t know, the fact you had three men at once and not too long ago. Or how about the daytime event where you enjoyed eating pussy more than a time or two. Huh?” The drink was going down way too easily.

The couple next to them gasped.

Jasmine had to fight her bitchy attitude and the finger that was itching to be shown off. The second the waiter appeared she snagged him, ordering two more in a flash. Somehow the alcohol was fueling her courage. “No comment from the peanut gallery?”

Gracie eased her head around and exhaled slowly. “Let me get this straight. You’re spanked on a regular basis.”

“Yes, some weeks more often then others.”

“Okay. When did you start this?”

“I think six months ago,” Jasmine said as she tried to remember.

“And who asked who? Who wanted to do this more? Did you talk about it or did he just jerk you over his knee one night and whip you?’

Here was the Gracie she knew and loved. “Let’s see. I asked him I think. He probably wanted this more and one night after pitching a glass of wine in his face he yanked out the kitchen chair, pulled me over his knee and tugged down my panties. The spanking was hard and swift and trust me. I got the message. Haven’t done that ugly deed again.” Jasmine snorted.

“Do you ask for spankings? Has he ever done them in public? Does your family know?” Her face was shimmering, her breath skipping, and Gracie managed to polish off her drink in one long gulp.

“Hold on. Let me catch my breath.” After licking the ice cubes, sucking on first one then a second, she pushed her glass to the edge of the table. The damn waiter better hurry his sexy tight buns back or else. “I do ask for them every once in awhile because they ground me, help me focus. I know that sounds odd but the truth is they do. Public? He did take me by the hand and out of a restaurant to our car, pulling out the hairbrush he keeps there. And yes, he spanked my naked ass as the sun set over the parking lot.” Jasmine inhaled, remembering the event. Another wiggle reminded her of the night, the fact he’d made her ride all the way home sans panties and her naked ass scraping against the leather seats. “And um, no. My family doesn’t know a thing but they’re going to.”

“No wedding.”

“No wedding.”

“Do the spankings help?” Grace asked quietly.

“Very much so. They’ve made everything better, especially my attitude. Oh and including the sex.” Jasmine couldn’t help but add a sexy verve to her voice.

“Hmmm… Fascinating.”

Subtle“Don’t look away. Don’t. I am telling you something very personal, something that is tough for me to admit. Wait a minute…” She smiled seeing the waiter and literally leaned out of her seat to snag the drink before he had a chance to set the glass down. “I need to be able to trust you, feel like I can tell you anything.”

“You can tell my anything. I’ve never judged you.” Gracie grabbed the other glass, befuddling the waiter.

“Well, you seem to be right now.” Jasmine gulped more than she should have but the burn was heavenly.

“I am not.” Gracie did the same.

She swallowed hard and glared over the table. “Then why the inquisition. Huh? Why? Looks like you’re ready to tell me what an idiot I am.”

“Not at all.”

“Then what?”

“What?”

Jasmine shook her head. “Have the balls to tell me the truth.” Oh the challenge was there. The line drawn in the sand.

“Fine. You want the truth? I’m asking because I want to figure out how to tell Steve that I want to be a spanked woman.”

Shock and awe rushed through the restaurant.

Well, what do you think? My guess is there are a heck of a lot more women that would love to ask their husbands or boyfriends for a hard spanking – if only they had the courage.

Kisses and spanks

Cassandre

About Cassandre Dayne

Cassandre Dayne is the pseudo for the best selling author of romantic suspense and thrillers
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