If I had one word to describe the way Storm spanks me it would be "thoroughly." Early on in our exploration days, Storm was dedicated to learning this spanking business for us to develop a power exchange kind of thing. We had discussed and he made the decision that I was to call him "Sir" in the bedroom during spankings, which is humbling for me, but shows him that I respect his authority. When I first said it, it was as foreign to me as if I would have started calling him Colonel Mustard or Professor Plum .... in the bedroom.... with the......candlestick.... uh, I mean paddle. That little sucker has what is supposed to be a thin layer of padding. It lies. The "padding" is very thin and with a these tiny rubber grips that give it a little sting. Storm takes on his technique and delivery of a spanking with earnest intent. I take the receiving of said spanking very seriously as well. So does my bottom whether it wants to or not... (it wants).
I am working on my computer when Storm comes over, leans down, and speaks into my ear. "I plan on spanking you in about 20 minutes." My tummy flips. My mouth gets dry. I automatically go into humble mode. Because we have been talking and talking and talking (did I say talking?), I know this meeting of my rear end and his paddle was coming today, but I didn't know the exact time of day/night it would take place. So I finish up quickly on my computer, go in the bedroom and take off all my clothes, and I put on my fluffy bath robe. I was ready a little early, so I left the bedroom and went back to his office and stood in the doorway. Me, "I'm ready." He looks up from his desk and runs his eyes along the length of me and I instinctively look down at the floor. I am allowed to look at him, I just can't. My breathing is a little more shallow. My legs are slightly wobbly. I'm hot inside my chest. I have morphed into a manifestation of submission. And the spanking hasn't even begun. Storm, "That's what I like to see." He leads me back into the bedroom and grabs the paddle out of the drawer. I know to wait for him at the side of the bed. "Take that off." I do as I am told and remove my robe.
I am bent over the bed. My hands are above my head or holding on to the pillow upon which my face rests. I am standing on my toes and my heels are not touching the ground .This helps me to arch my lower back better and totally presents my bottom for spanking and my private parts for him to look and touch should he desire to do so.
Storm: "I love when you bend over my bed." His bed? Hmmm. I feel him move both big hands over my bottom like an artist appreciating the feel and look of a blank slate before he begins to add some color to it. His hands still and I feel them leave my body and I know he is reaching for the paddle that he had placed beside me. Soon I feel the coolness of the paddle resting against my bottom. Then it lifts and ...
The spanks begin. Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, . . . Storm says, "This is to remind you that you are mine." Ohh, possessive! And the spanks continue. I say nothing. Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap... Light at first and spread evenly over both cheeks. He's firing rapidly. Then it becomes sharper and I can feel my bottom beginning to warm up. My breathing automatically begins to even out as my upper body starts to sink further into the mattress. "Did you hear me?" he wants acknowledgement.
"Yes, Sir," I whisper huskily. He gets back to the task at hand. Snap! Snap! Snap! Snap! Snap! ...The taps have turned into sharper, deeper snaps. I'm still breathing in a deep, smooth, and contented rhythm.
"I love turning your butt pink." Me, too. He pauses for about 20 seconds and steps directly behind me to inspect his work...touching and grabbing. And then the swats begin anew. Harder. Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack! with a slight pause in between so that I can absorb the sting of each stroke just before he swings down again. He reads my body language. I do not make a lot of noise. But, he knows the expression on my face by seeing the effect on my bottom. My head turns to the side and I begin to grimace. The paddling is at its most intense now, but it is never at a level that I don't welcome or anything that would truly hurt me. I begin to grip the sheets in my fists. I am holding my breath and and I must now purposefully make myself inhale and exhale slowly.
"Ten more. When you still feel this tomorrow, I want you to think of me."
And they're the hardest. I arch my lower back even further and proudly present my sit spot to him for the worst of it.
"Yes, Sir!" I grind out behind my clenched jaws.
And then my ears pound in the sudden silence. He is done. He slowly pulls me up and I tuck my face under his chin with my hands clenched in front of my breasts and against his chest. His arms are wrapped tightly around me. My breathing is rapid. I am trembling from the intensity of it all. After a few minutes, I pull slightly back and look up at him and whisper lovers' words as I put my arms around him tightly.
"I love you," he responds. I say the same and then we are kissing and I am trembling for an entirely different reason and I want to climb up him. And I do, for a bit, but then still with a thoroughly spanked hot bottom, I sink to my knees and thank him in one of the ways we both like best.