WOW. I’m posting this the earliest I’ve ever posted any HNT… but I’m really excited about posting it. It’s not the most creative I’ve done – in fact it’s probably the quickest one I’ve taken – but personally I think it’s pretty sweet.

Last weekend, I got spanked for the first time.
If you’ve been keeping up with my blog/Twitter/anything, you’d know about how long I waited for this to happen.
“Lay down on your stomach,” he said.
I was surprised – mostly because I thought he was submissive. I knew he liked me a very long time ago, but never acted on it. I wasn’t sure how I felt about him. But tonight, I was sure.
I lay down, naked, on my stomach, with my face in my pillow. I wondered what he was going to do. The only two men who I’d trusted enough to confess my spanking fetish to, without being embarrassed, had failed miserably when they had attempted to inflict pain on me. And this man, who was primarily submissive…
Crack.
He was using my plastic, cheap Bank of America ruler on me. He taunted me as he did, calling my ass too white, trying to find excuses to punish me, asking me about my experiences with D/s. In fact, he was taking a lot of ideas from me, when I had dommed him just ten minutes before.
He varied his pace, landing several on me at a time, or taking it slow and tantalizingly, giving me time to catch my breath and let it sink in between strokes. My ass hurt but I still knew I could take so much more. I gasped, panted, and cried. He scolded me when I moved my hands from in front of me, so I crossed them underneath me instead.
Then he asked me to lay across his lap, and spent several minutes working me with his hand.
I fell into kink-love. He was the antithesis, physically, of what I was typically attracted to, but the things he wanted to do to me, and the things I wanted to do to him… it was a match made in heaven.
When I woke up the next day, I saw that numerous pieces had snapped off of the ruler while he was using it on me, and now lay across the floor.
The day after that, I had a small red blush across my ass where he’d hit me. It stung when I sat down, or when my backpack pressed against the spot.
It felt wonderful.
The day after that, a bruise began to form, and I stared at it, fascinated, in my bathroom mirror.
Please. Give me more bruises.


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