a new chapter in the book of spanking

Life is constantly moving forward. The sun will always rise.... just as sure as it will set... this has always been a constant.

Ten years ago.. you could have never convinced me that I would get off on pain... no way, no how. But, then again.... there are lots of things that you could not have convinced me of then. Hell, FIVE years ago... I probably wouldn't have believed it either- yet here I am... craving that sensation. The drug I will never get enough of...

I love spankings... this I'm sure you know by now. I am fascinated by it.... the feel of it... the mind set it puts me in. So when Ben asked last night if I wanted him to get something that would hurt more than his hand... who was I to say no?

He left me bent over our bed... ass out... and walked past me to our closet. Instantly... I knew. I knew what he was going for. My heart felt like it sunk down between my knees with panic.... strange... since I have wanted to up the intensity. This is what I had been wanting.. what I had asked for. It was playing out in front of me.

My head raced... excited... scared... nervous.... thinking what he was going to produce was a plastic hanger. What I forgot about was the metal ones that still hung in there from his work uniforms. I tried to get a glimpse from out of the corner of my eye... but I didn't even see so much as a tip.

He ran the cold metal over my back and skin. I shivered a bit... from the temperature of it... and the anticipation of feeling it make contact with my back side. I feared (or maybe hoped) for the worst. He asked if I was ready..... and even though I wasn't sure I was... I said yes. Leading up to the first blow was worse in my mind than the actual event.

He tapped my ass a few times.. gently.... my body was full attention... waiting. Finally... the first real assault came... taking my breath away. It stung... bad. Just as I had imagined.... yet I still wanted more. It came as no real shock to me. While he started working me over.. my mind wandered... from the thoughts of wanting more... to not being sure I could take more.... to wondering if THIS is what a cane felt like.

Before he was done, Ben striped my ass... had a little fun with my breasts... and even managed to get me to spread my legs far apart to get one good swat on my cunt. I am fairly sure I could have taken more... that it could have went on for quite a bit longer. I'm not exactly sure why I let it end... I kind of was kicking myself as we laid there... quietly content in our post sex haze.

Once we pryed ourselves out of bed... I checked out my "war wounds" in the mirror. A sly grin came across my face to see the product of his love. (Because in my eyes.... he does this because I ask him to.... because he knows it's what I need.... and so that it love.. to me amongst other things). There is something about when he marks me.... that brings me such joy. I wonder do all people that play so to speak enjoy their marks as much? Do they wear them like a badge of honor?

Even as I was in the bathroom at my father-in-laws (look for another post coming soon to a blog near you!).... I turned to admire the red lines... and faint bruises in the mirror. Sigh. What more can a girl ask for?