My Dear Dandy Ch. 02

"You're in big trouble."

"Go to your room."

"Over my knee"

"Go out back and cut a fresh switch."

"Panties down."

"I think its time I took off my belt."

"Bend over."

"You're going to get it."

"Bring me the hairbrush."

"You'll be sleeping on your stomach tonight."

"Oh, you will be sorry!"

"Yes, sweetheart, it's going to hurt."

"You're not going to sit for a week."

"That's it ... you're getting a spanking."

I helplessly react to those words. My muscles tighten. And my skin becomes so sensitive that I can feel my panties against my cheeks as they tense. My stomach churns. The instant throbbing between my thighs makes me squirm and my breath catches. I feel light headed. I lower my eyes, embarrassed by my desires. I'm excruciatingly aware of every nerve ending across my bottom as it quivers and twitches with anxious anticipation and worst of all, need.

Its been decided that I need a spanking and now this man, so much bigger and stronger than me, will drape me over his thigh like I'm a little girl. He's going to peel down my panties, and slap my bare butt repeatedly until I'm kicking and squirming, crying and pleading for him to stop.

What makes you think you can? What was it like the first time you hauled the girl you loved over your lap and disciplined her for misbehaving? What was it for? Was she being sassy? Did she do something dangerous that had you worried? Did she cry? Was she mad?

I know what I like to think. I like to think its as natural to you to lay a well deserving girl across you lap and tan her hide as it would have been for good old Mister John Wayne himself. I like to think its just the natural order of things. That its just something certain girls need from their man from time to time to keep them sweet and obedient as well as a chance to let them know he's strong enough to keep the big bad at bay.

Still, I'm anxious and I know this is going to hurt, but I want it so badly. I still don't want to look at you. I'm afraid you'll see just how much I love feeling like a little girl. What if you don't approve? What if that's not what you want? The thing is, it's what I want, so I keep my eyes lowered and wait until you pull me over your lap.

My head spins and every second waiting for you to begin seems frozen in time. I look at you and shiver. I love that I'm so much smaller than you are. I look at your arms and I am in awe of how truly powerful men are.

'He's about to hold me down and hurt me, and I won't be able to stop him until he's finished. He's going to see to it that my bottom is red and sore and throbbing. He wants to see me flailing and bucking on his lap. I'm going to finally lose control and cry and tell him how much it hurts, and beg him to stop. I'll tell him how sorry I am and I'll mean it. I'll promise to be a good girl and I'll mean that too. I hope he doesn't stop too soon.'

I can see myself sniffling and telling you I'm sorry like a pitiful little girl. I can hear your strong but tender voice telling me how much you love me. Will you think I look cute when I'm crying over your lap? Will this turn you on? Will your cock get hard while you're spanking me? Will I be able to feel it pressed up against me?

'Will he fuck me hard after my spanking? Maybe he'll want to take my mouth, feel my tear soaked face pressed up against his body. Maybe, he'll scoop me up and hold me in his arms.' I feel tears well up in my eyes at the thought.

There's something about the idea of being obedient and taking my spanking like a good girl that goes hand in hand with the way I like to feel its just the natural order of things to be spanked in the first place. Being given a brief hug for reassurance and then sucking a sharp breath before obediently draping myself over your knee, or God forbid, over the side of the bed for your belt or the switch. It's like taking your medicine like a brave girl and that's how I like to think of being spanked. A medicine you love me enough to dose me with.

'I'm going to be a good girl for him, no matter how hard it is. Oh, but its going to hurt...'

Those are the kinds of thoughts and visuals that keep assaulting me over and over again while I'm standing there in front of you, shifting from foot to foot and nervously clutching at my skirt. Those are the things I think about while I wait for you to pounce.