First Spanking (Conclusion)
This experience started here.
Life is funny. The waves of cascading choices that crash around us each day always seem to be overwhelming, and then they recede, and we're just standing there, exhausted and new. That was how I felt after I finally broke down and spanked Pura: renewed and refreshed, but exhausted.
*Interjection by Pura* Me too on exhausted and refreshed. But even more, I felt safe for perhaps the very first time in my life. Sore, but safe.
Here's how it finally happened:
I did not notice it at first, but Pura was withdrawing. She was prone to guilt. These unfortunate feelings caused her to return to the self-loathing she had been used to before she met me. I can't stand her self-hatred! Perhaps because she's lovely and delicate; a perfect little flower. In my mind no one has a right to despise her, not even her.
The day I realized I was losing her I came home from a luncheon for work and found her scrubbing at a spot in the carpet and cursing like a sailor on leave.
"Honey, what's wrong?" I asked her.
"Like you even care!" she snapped back. "Go away!" I recoiled from that tone and the implication of those words.
*Pura blushes furiously to her hair line* I still can't believe I said those hateful words. And Mistress edited them for language content. Perhaps to spare her readers' delicate sensibilities... or perhaps to downplay my brattiness.
"What do you mean, 'go away'?" I asked in shock.
Pura threw down the rag she was scrubbing with and stomped away. "I'm not really even your slave," she said over her shoulder. I had expected this for a long time. I had anticipated her becoming tired with this play and deciding to leave. I was struck with how much it hurt me.
*Pura hides her face in shame*
"Well..." I started, but could go no further.
"Do you even want me?" Pura screamed at me, and then before I could say a word, she flounced away.
She has a beautiful little flounce. Of course, now if she walks away from me like that, I don't admire her flounce or stand helplessly and watch her go. Now I follow her with serious intentions.
"I love you!" I called after her, but she slammed the door to my bedroom and I was shut out completely.
I sat by myself for a while, trying to figure out what happened. I saw the fingernail polish stain in the carpet that she had been attempting to clean up. The capped bottle sat beside it. This may not seem significant, but I was shocked to find the polish.
I actually hate nail polish. The smell alone is enough to keep me away, but I don't even like the effect of finished nails. I like nude nails, well-trimmed and clean. Pura knew that about me. We had talked about it the first week she had moved in. I had not forbidden her from wearing it, of course. Even once she was my slave I did not feel I had a right to control her choices. Pura had stopped wearing polish when we started a sexual relationship.
That little bottle of polish was a sign that I had lost her somehow. I was not enough for her. She had never been with a woman before me and I guessed I was just her lesbian experience.
I put the bottle on the counter and made myself a meal. I made some for Pura, too, but she did not come out.
While I was in the kitchen cleaning up, I happened to look up at the list of rules on the wall. It was in a glass frame she had made me purchase, decorated with fleur-de-lis and glitter; obviously it had been created in love. I took it down from the wall.
This was the time Pura decided to grace me once again with her presence. She had obviously been crying, but now she had on her hardened face. She was determined not to show any weakness to me. But I could see her. For the first time I could really see her. And I did not want to lose her.
"Sit down," I ordered, and I did not allow my tone to make it a request.
She seemed somewhat surprised by my words, because she immediately obeyed, even though her eyes were hard and resolved not to submit to me.
I walked over and placed the framed rules on the table in front of her. "Look at this, Pura," I said. "What did you mean when you said you weren't really my slave?"
She looked up at me, and her eyes were dark pools of anger. I could see past the anger at the pain she was hiding.
"What did you mean? You have been in love with this concept and we have built a working dynamic. Do you want to leave?"
Pura looked away and I knew then that the answer was yes. She wanted to leave...
I was wrong. She looked back up at me and now her eyes were sad. "Do you want me to leave?" she asked. She shoved back from the table. "You do! You are tired of me, because I'm so weak and so stupid! You're probably tired of having to pick up the pieces of the young stupid girl..."
She said much more and in a lot more colorful language, but I can't allow myself to remember or I may react violently once again.
I grabbed Pura and tucked her beneath my arm in one swift motion, and I spanked her. It was only a few little swats--
"Little" swats? Mistress, you were furious and it was much more than a few little swats! It was ten at least ten and harder than anything I had ever had in my life before! I was shocked!
You know what shocks me, little slave? How you keep contradicting me and interrupting my story. Sit quietly over there and let me finish this. Right now, or you may have a new measurement for "harder than anything" in your life.
Yes, Mistress. *Pura is going away to obey her mistress now.*
Anyway... the story is not over.
It was only a few little swats. And I was shocked again that I had done it. I held her there in my arms for a moment so I could get control of my face, and then I pulled her back and looked at her. I fully expected to see hatred in her eyes or some kind of terrified fear.
She looked surprised. Her eyes were wide, but there was no hatred there. Her hands had jumped back to her bottom.
I collected myself quickly. "Are you done insulting my beautiful slave now? Or shall I continue?"
Pura stared at me and shook her head no.
"Now please answer my question. Do you want to leave?"
She shook her head again. "No," she whispered.
I sat down in the chair she had vacated. "What happened?" I asked her. "What is going on with you?" I was remembering back, trying to pinpoint when exactly things had started to change.
"I don't know," she admitted weakly, and climbed on my knees, wrapping her arms around my neck. Clearly not too injured from the few little swats. "I just feel all...anxious all the time, and out of control. And then I felt mad at you but I don't know why, so I got some nail polish out and I was trying to paint my nails..." she showed me the two and a half pitifully painted nails. "But then I spilled the bottle on the carpet and I couldn't figure out how to clean it up. And then I knew you would be upset and that made me mad at you even more, and really mad at myself...I'm sorry. I'm too high-maintenance--"
She cut that line of speaking off at once when my face hardened. She whispered an apology.
"When did you notice you started feeling this way?" I asked her.
She thought for a moment, and then the guilt of knowing spread over her face. What she said, though, in a soft little voice, was, "I don't know."
"Don't lie to me," I replied sternly.
She pressed her lips together and hugged me tighter. I insisted she tell me, and finally she relented. "It was the night I was selfish and decided to read instead of make you dinner like you asked. That's when it changed."
And it all clicked for me. She could not forgive herself for that silly little situation, and it had poisoned all our days since then. I could clearly see in retrospect how she had slowly withdrawn from me. I could see how she was getting angrier at herself, and that made her angry at me because I was supposed to be the one that calmed her down. I had withheld my own forgiveness, assuming she had not needed it because she had not done anything wrong.
"Pura," I asked her. "Tell me how you feel about the events of that night." It had been several weeks before.
Pura welled up. "I don't want to," she begged, but when I continued to wait patiently, she said, "I feel like a terrible person! My only job in the world is to take care of you and I didn't do it. I was slothful and disobedient, and you deserve better than me."
"I deserve what I want," I replied, although that was not a sentiment I truly believed at the time. She cried some more and I said, "I want you. And you're mine."
I did something then that changed our lives forever. I threw off every caution, every understanding of relationships I had ever gained, and the inner hateful me that condemns my every move. I looked at Pura in the eye and said stern words that I did not yet believe.
"You are my slave and it is your responsibility to do as I ask you to do first. Your rules are very simple, and my pleasure is your primary responsibility. That night you discarded my pleasure in favor of your own. And now I look back and see how you have spent the past few weeks pulling yourself away from me with guilt. Unacceptable." Yes, I laid it on thick. But it was for her benefit, not my own. If I was upset with her, I thought, she could not be angry enough at herself to self-destruct. "You are a training slave and because of that I thought I should be gentle with you about your mistakes. I see now that I should not have been."
Her eyes were tortured pools of guilt. "What will you do?" she whispered. "Send me away?"
There was nothing that girl could have done that would make me send her away, but I waited a moment as if I was considering it. Then I adjusted her, pulling her over my lap. Her words "People do it all the time" were floating through my head. I was more nervous than I had ever been about anything before.
I tugged her shorts down and found her "commando" which had always delighted me before, but today it just made me wish I had left her shorts up. But it was too late to go back.
I spanked her on her lightly pinked cheeks. The first time she cried out "Oww!" I just about stopped. But I kept picturing how she was torturing herself and I knew that I could stop that behavior by taking a firm stand. I continued to spank her, and even readjusted her when she squirmed. I did not allow her cries and apologies to stop me. I loved her too much to let her destroy herself.
When her cheeks were a warm and satisfying pink, I let her up. The shock on her face was one of the most adorable looks I had ever seen. She rubbed at her bottom and stared at me like I had grown a third eye or something.
I pulled her into my arms. She cringed a little as she sat on her newly-spanked bottom, but she wrapped herself around my neck and stayed there for a long, long time.
"I'm sorry," she whispered.
"It's okay now," I answered. "We're done with all that. You'll remember from now on to come to me when you're feeling guilty. And from now on I will take care of it right away." I would give anything to have seen her face when she heard those words, but she was buried in my neck just then. I knew as I held her there that our relationship dynamic would never be the same. She really expected me to be her Mistress. It wasn't just a game anymore. I really, for real, had a slave.
And our lives were just beginning.
Life is funny. The waves of cascading choices that crash around us each day always seem to be overwhelming, and then they recede, and we're just standing there, exhausted and new. That was how I felt after I finally broke down and spanked Pura: renewed and refreshed, but exhausted.
*Interjection by Pura* Me too on exhausted and refreshed. But even more, I felt safe for perhaps the very first time in my life. Sore, but safe.
Here's how it finally happened:
I did not notice it at first, but Pura was withdrawing. She was prone to guilt. These unfortunate feelings caused her to return to the self-loathing she had been used to before she met me. I can't stand her self-hatred! Perhaps because she's lovely and delicate; a perfect little flower. In my mind no one has a right to despise her, not even her.
The day I realized I was losing her I came home from a luncheon for work and found her scrubbing at a spot in the carpet and cursing like a sailor on leave.
"Honey, what's wrong?" I asked her.
"Like you even care!" she snapped back. "Go away!" I recoiled from that tone and the implication of those words.
*Pura blushes furiously to her hair line* I still can't believe I said those hateful words. And Mistress edited them for language content. Perhaps to spare her readers' delicate sensibilities... or perhaps to downplay my brattiness.
"What do you mean, 'go away'?" I asked in shock.
Pura threw down the rag she was scrubbing with and stomped away. "I'm not really even your slave," she said over her shoulder. I had expected this for a long time. I had anticipated her becoming tired with this play and deciding to leave. I was struck with how much it hurt me.
*Pura hides her face in shame*
"Well..." I started, but could go no further.
"Do you even want me?" Pura screamed at me, and then before I could say a word, she flounced away.
She has a beautiful little flounce. Of course, now if she walks away from me like that, I don't admire her flounce or stand helplessly and watch her go. Now I follow her with serious intentions.
"I love you!" I called after her, but she slammed the door to my bedroom and I was shut out completely.
I sat by myself for a while, trying to figure out what happened. I saw the fingernail polish stain in the carpet that she had been attempting to clean up. The capped bottle sat beside it. This may not seem significant, but I was shocked to find the polish.
I actually hate nail polish. The smell alone is enough to keep me away, but I don't even like the effect of finished nails. I like nude nails, well-trimmed and clean. Pura knew that about me. We had talked about it the first week she had moved in. I had not forbidden her from wearing it, of course. Even once she was my slave I did not feel I had a right to control her choices. Pura had stopped wearing polish when we started a sexual relationship.
That little bottle of polish was a sign that I had lost her somehow. I was not enough for her. She had never been with a woman before me and I guessed I was just her lesbian experience.
I put the bottle on the counter and made myself a meal. I made some for Pura, too, but she did not come out.
While I was in the kitchen cleaning up, I happened to look up at the list of rules on the wall. It was in a glass frame she had made me purchase, decorated with fleur-de-lis and glitter; obviously it had been created in love. I took it down from the wall.
This was the time Pura decided to grace me once again with her presence. She had obviously been crying, but now she had on her hardened face. She was determined not to show any weakness to me. But I could see her. For the first time I could really see her. And I did not want to lose her.
"Sit down," I ordered, and I did not allow my tone to make it a request.
She seemed somewhat surprised by my words, because she immediately obeyed, even though her eyes were hard and resolved not to submit to me.
I walked over and placed the framed rules on the table in front of her. "Look at this, Pura," I said. "What did you mean when you said you weren't really my slave?"
She looked up at me, and her eyes were dark pools of anger. I could see past the anger at the pain she was hiding.
"What did you mean? You have been in love with this concept and we have built a working dynamic. Do you want to leave?"
Pura looked away and I knew then that the answer was yes. She wanted to leave...
I was wrong. She looked back up at me and now her eyes were sad. "Do you want me to leave?" she asked. She shoved back from the table. "You do! You are tired of me, because I'm so weak and so stupid! You're probably tired of having to pick up the pieces of the young stupid girl..."
She said much more and in a lot more colorful language, but I can't allow myself to remember or I may react violently once again.
I grabbed Pura and tucked her beneath my arm in one swift motion, and I spanked her. It was only a few little swats--
"Little" swats? Mistress, you were furious and it was much more than a few little swats! It was ten at least ten and harder than anything I had ever had in my life before! I was shocked!
You know what shocks me, little slave? How you keep contradicting me and interrupting my story. Sit quietly over there and let me finish this. Right now, or you may have a new measurement for "harder than anything" in your life.
Yes, Mistress. *Pura is going away to obey her mistress now.*
Anyway... the story is not over.
It was only a few little swats. And I was shocked again that I had done it. I held her there in my arms for a moment so I could get control of my face, and then I pulled her back and looked at her. I fully expected to see hatred in her eyes or some kind of terrified fear.
She looked surprised. Her eyes were wide, but there was no hatred there. Her hands had jumped back to her bottom.
I collected myself quickly. "Are you done insulting my beautiful slave now? Or shall I continue?"
Pura stared at me and shook her head no.
"Now please answer my question. Do you want to leave?"
She shook her head again. "No," she whispered.
I sat down in the chair she had vacated. "What happened?" I asked her. "What is going on with you?" I was remembering back, trying to pinpoint when exactly things had started to change.
"I don't know," she admitted weakly, and climbed on my knees, wrapping her arms around my neck. Clearly not too injured from the few little swats. "I just feel all...anxious all the time, and out of control. And then I felt mad at you but I don't know why, so I got some nail polish out and I was trying to paint my nails..." she showed me the two and a half pitifully painted nails. "But then I spilled the bottle on the carpet and I couldn't figure out how to clean it up. And then I knew you would be upset and that made me mad at you even more, and really mad at myself...I'm sorry. I'm too high-maintenance--"
She cut that line of speaking off at once when my face hardened. She whispered an apology.
"When did you notice you started feeling this way?" I asked her.
She thought for a moment, and then the guilt of knowing spread over her face. What she said, though, in a soft little voice, was, "I don't know."
"Don't lie to me," I replied sternly.
She pressed her lips together and hugged me tighter. I insisted she tell me, and finally she relented. "It was the night I was selfish and decided to read instead of make you dinner like you asked. That's when it changed."
And it all clicked for me. She could not forgive herself for that silly little situation, and it had poisoned all our days since then. I could clearly see in retrospect how she had slowly withdrawn from me. I could see how she was getting angrier at herself, and that made her angry at me because I was supposed to be the one that calmed her down. I had withheld my own forgiveness, assuming she had not needed it because she had not done anything wrong.
"Pura," I asked her. "Tell me how you feel about the events of that night." It had been several weeks before.
Pura welled up. "I don't want to," she begged, but when I continued to wait patiently, she said, "I feel like a terrible person! My only job in the world is to take care of you and I didn't do it. I was slothful and disobedient, and you deserve better than me."
"I deserve what I want," I replied, although that was not a sentiment I truly believed at the time. She cried some more and I said, "I want you. And you're mine."
I did something then that changed our lives forever. I threw off every caution, every understanding of relationships I had ever gained, and the inner hateful me that condemns my every move. I looked at Pura in the eye and said stern words that I did not yet believe.
"You are my slave and it is your responsibility to do as I ask you to do first. Your rules are very simple, and my pleasure is your primary responsibility. That night you discarded my pleasure in favor of your own. And now I look back and see how you have spent the past few weeks pulling yourself away from me with guilt. Unacceptable." Yes, I laid it on thick. But it was for her benefit, not my own. If I was upset with her, I thought, she could not be angry enough at herself to self-destruct. "You are a training slave and because of that I thought I should be gentle with you about your mistakes. I see now that I should not have been."
Her eyes were tortured pools of guilt. "What will you do?" she whispered. "Send me away?"
There was nothing that girl could have done that would make me send her away, but I waited a moment as if I was considering it. Then I adjusted her, pulling her over my lap. Her words "People do it all the time" were floating through my head. I was more nervous than I had ever been about anything before.
I tugged her shorts down and found her "commando" which had always delighted me before, but today it just made me wish I had left her shorts up. But it was too late to go back.
I spanked her on her lightly pinked cheeks. The first time she cried out "Oww!" I just about stopped. But I kept picturing how she was torturing herself and I knew that I could stop that behavior by taking a firm stand. I continued to spank her, and even readjusted her when she squirmed. I did not allow her cries and apologies to stop me. I loved her too much to let her destroy herself.
When her cheeks were a warm and satisfying pink, I let her up. The shock on her face was one of the most adorable looks I had ever seen. She rubbed at her bottom and stared at me like I had grown a third eye or something.
I pulled her into my arms. She cringed a little as she sat on her newly-spanked bottom, but she wrapped herself around my neck and stayed there for a long, long time.
"I'm sorry," she whispered.
"It's okay now," I answered. "We're done with all that. You'll remember from now on to come to me when you're feeling guilty. And from now on I will take care of it right away." I would give anything to have seen her face when she heard those words, but she was buried in my neck just then. I knew as I held her there that our relationship dynamic would never be the same. She really expected me to be her Mistress. It wasn't just a game anymore. I really, for real, had a slave.
And our lives were just beginning.
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