Sofia tried to push the message she had sent out of her mind. She was holding her breath a bit, dying to know how Lucas would respond, but didn’t want to spend the evening brooding about it.
She grabbed her keys and her phone – a walk. She needed to go for a walk. She headed out the door just as her phone chimed. Text message from -yes! It was from Lucas. Just two words.
It made her smile, and made her feel warm. She took a deep breath. Yes! And giggled, yes, I am a good girl.
As she walked, her mind slid back to the fantasy. Let’s see, she had left herself bent over the arm of her chair… ass up, exposed and waiting.
She heard the hiss of his belt pulled through the loops. His hand caressed her ass, stroked her sit spot, and then was removed. She waited – waited –
— and heard the whoosh of the belt at almost the same moment it landed, stinging, across the middle of her ass. A pause and the sensation shifted, as if her skin accepted it, a warmth that burned, then settled. And whoosh – a second one, the shock as it landed, stinging, and settled. She felt something deep inside her relax.
And she tripped over a bit of sidewalk, barely catching her balance. Damn it. Ok, enough of that, she thought. She could feel herself getting hot, her pussy actually clenched and she almost laughed. This is ridiculous, she thought. But it’s been forever. I need to be spanked, I need to be spanked so much.
She pushed the fantasy out of her mind, but a sense of shame slipped in as she walked. She thought about her desire to be spanked, the longing to give herself to someone, the thrill of pleasing. Ridiculous, she thought again. You’re old. And even when you were younger, no one wanted you the way you are.
She shrugged, tears stung her eyes for a minute. Then she pushed that away – nice pity party, she thought. She walked a bit faster, and then slowed back down, focused on the walk.
But she was restless that night. She knew that you had to let yourself be vulnerable if you wanted to have any kind of intimacy, but that didn’t mean you had to like it. She wasn’t sure if she was being brave, putting herself out there, or just stupid.
It’s all about holding the tension, she thought, the tension of not knowing what’s going to happen. And sometimes that’s unbearable, so you make something happen because you can’t tolerate the not knowing anymore.
Just one step at a time she thought, just one step at a time. But she fell asleep thinking about belts that sting and green eyes.
The next morning, she wrote her response to Lucas’ first question. Wrote and re-wrote. Eventually, she was satisfied.
“I think there needs to be fairly clear boundaries between the vanilla aspects of life and D/s. I don’t always feel submissive, and it wouldn’t work very well in my life if I did. It seems that a point of transition would be helpful – and I’m not sure what that would look like.
Maybe some kind of ritual for asking and receiving consent before you switch to D/s? On both sides, really, I’m sure that Doms don’t always feel dominant.
When there’s not a mutual agreement on how you’re relating to each other, it creates all kinds of problems. Ideally, there would be a way to work around that. But I don’t know what it would look like.
She had written a much longer response first and deleted most of it. No need to talk about all the things the didn’t work. He just wanted her thoughts. And – she smiled – it wasn’t her responsibility. That thought was like a hug.
She sent the message, crossing her fingers that he would like it, and then uncrossing them because really, those were her thoughts, regardless of how he responded. She assured herself she wouldn’t expect to hear from him again for a while, and was delighted when he responded a couple of hours later.
"Thank you. I appreciate your thoughts on this, and really agree. Here's what I had already written.
'It is essential (for me) to have some separation between "regular" life where the couple functions as equals and the D/s aspects, where the submissive is expected to follow directions, obey, and be disciplined in what ever ways have been consented to. This can be approached in a number of ways. A ritual of submission, a designated area for submission, or specific days/times can be devoted to the D/s dynamic. But it's unreasonable to expect that either the Dominant or the submissive can move seamlessly between those roles at all times.'
It looks like we are in some agreement about this, and that's good to know. I think, if we decide to move forward, we would want to spend some time trying different approaches and maybe use a combination of strategies..
In fairness, I will add that when I talk about the D/s aspects of a relationship, I am speaking as a Dominant, to you as a submissive. I invite you to speak freely and honestly, but share your submissive heart."
Sofia read it three times, lingering on the part about “obey and be disciplined.” I want that, she thought. I want that and spankings and orgasms. I want to taste him and I want to make him moan.
She realized that her nipples were tingling, and she slipped back into her fantasy. Over the arm of the chair, ass up, he had just landed the tenth stroke. Her ass was warm but she had totally relaxed into it. Each blow stung, but she had softened in some way that let her accept it, absorb it.
“That is the first 10,” he said. “What do you say?”
“OH! Thank you, Sir,” she said. “Thank you.”
“The next ten will be more focused.” She had no idea what he meant, but quickly realized that the blows were landing in almost the same spot each time. That hurt more and was harder to absorb, particular when he directed five in a row to her sensitive sit spot.
She was gasping when he stopped and whimpering a bit. But, “What do you say?” he asked.
“Thank you, Sir,” she replied quickly. And he started again. “Variety this time,” he said.
Variety apparently meant that he changed the angle, striking her diagonally now so the blows criss-crossed with other places that were already tender. She squirmed quite a bit now, and he paused once to admonish her. “Offer me your ass, please,” he said. “Don’t try to get away from the pain. Take it for me. And open your legs more.”
She raised her ass, spread her legs wider, and the belt landed across the top of her thighs, hitting her exposed pussy as well. She cried out.
“Good girl,” he said, “Good girl.” He paused for a moment, moving his hand between her legs, feeling the wetness there. He stroked her clit with her thumb and she was flooded with pleasure. He stopped —
–and the belt landed again, in the same place. She moaned, but pushed her ass up, kept her legs open. “Good girl,” he said, as he brought the belt down again. In the same spot.
No Sofia, in real life shook her head, forget that last part, she didn’t want that part of fantasy. And now she was all stirred up. Ok, turned on. She was going to have to get the Hitachi out again tonight.