I was planning to go to the grocery when I realized I was alone in the house.

I put my keys back on the key rack. Thought about where everyone had gone, estimating when they might be back.

I messaged Sir.

I think I’m alone now.

The chorus of this song played in my head:

Yes, Tommy James and the Shondells, from my long ago youth, playing I Think We’re Alone Now. I loved that song. Of course now, Sir would not be putting his arms around me and there would be no tumbling to the ground… but I shrugged that off. He was with me in spirit.

It’s becoming a familiar rhythm – take The Tawse to the bedroom. Pants down, panties down. I pause, about to lean over the bed. Remind myself that I know Sir won’t be available for a while. But that’s ok. He wants me to practice.

Whack! The first blow lands on my right cheek – and it hurts! I am making sure to do one cheek at a time, so it lands differently – not like a belt, more like a paddle. And it still manages to get my sit spot. Yikes!

I continue, more slowly than the first time I did it. The Tawse lands on the left cheek at a different angle, feeling more like a belt, with the whoosh right before it hits. But the right side hurts more.

I continue.  It stings, it burns.  Clearly, I am getting better at this.

I stop as I finish the first set of 12. This was more intense, it hurts more than the first time. I hesitate. If I do a second set, then I have to do a third. That’s what Sir told me last time. But maybe it didn’t apply anymore? Did I want to do two more sets?

I pull my panties and pants back up and start to walk away. My bottom is already stinging. Maybe I should stop now. How do I even know he wants me to do this? I don’t feel him with me as much now.

But – you know how submissive girls are – I know if I stop now I’ll be disappointed in myself, knowing I could have taken more. So panties down, pants down, I’m bent over the bed again, reassuring myself that he will be pleased..

I start again. The burn builds pretty quickly now, and I make my way through the second set wondering why I thought this was a good idea. By the end of the third, I hear myself counting with a bit of a gasp and a whine. It is a very strange feeling, my bottom protesting and my hand ignoring it.

Relieved to be finished at last, I check my bottom in the big bathroom mirror. Surprisingly, it is not as red as it had been the first time and I’m disappointed. If it’s going to sting this much, it needs to look like it! But then I touch my sit spot on the right side – and there are some faint welts. That feels right! And I think there’s a bruise. That’s only fair.

I message Sir, but I’m sure he’s not available yet. And suddenly, I feel lonely.

With a sigh, I pick up my keys and go to the grocery.

I’m not angry or upset, but I feel forlorn. I know I should message him and tell him how I’m feeling, but I think I’ll wait til later. I don’t want to be needy.

But I keep checking my phone. And just when I’m trying to remember if we need yogurt, I see his message. Just as quickly as it had come, my loneliness disappears. I have pleased him, I did do the right thing, he can tell it was more intense this time, I am his good girl, and all is well with my world.

Of course, I told him how I had been feeling, and he pointed out that I should have told him right away. Next time, I will.

Next time, I think I could do it harder.

****************

As I was wandering the grocery aisles, I thought about the term “masochist.”

A masochist is an individual who derives satisfaction, pleasure, or relief 
from pain, humiliation, or uncomfortable situations.

And I suppose I do derive some satisfaction, pleasure, and relief from The very scary Tawse. But that’s not the point. It’s about connection. Connecting, Obeying, and Pleasing.

Don’t misunderstand me – I love the spanking part. But I need the connection with someone who I feel safe obeying, and who will be pleased when I do well in obedience. When I rest in that awareness, the labels don’t matter at all.