Spanking Cleanse

Been a rough week, lots of emotions built up. Nothing serious but frustrations, angriness, sadness. A general feeling of loneliness and negativity overload. She is aware of her state but goes to the dungeon party anyway, thinking a change of scenery for a few hours might do her good.

She walks in, clothing subdued, barefoot, nods or says hellos to the few people she knows and sits at the edge of the crowd, sipping her soda water. She has a great view of both the social area and a few play stations. She breathes in the smells, the sounds, lets the whole atmosphere soaks into her. This party is closer to what she was used to in her youth: scents of sex, fear, leather and sweat... sounds of impacts on skin, laughter, pain and unrestrained and forced orgasms. She relaxes into it all, smiling, feeling a little bit at home in this remote world, actually happy to be there.

Mr. K. is here. Since his brake up with his last partner, he's been at events more, played once in a while, sampling available and willing subs. (Not that many are unwilling!) Always the domly Dom, always the gentleman, he gets and gives what he wants, generously. She's seen the reaction some, both men and women, have towards him. Had that involuntary panty wetting response herself, even as they've become closer friends. She sees that he's here, like the others she knows, and that's about it, not much else registers. She is within herself, absorbing the surrounding vibrations, a bit numbed by the emotions mixed inside her.

The music changes, harder rock with a stronger, more aggressive bass. Sometimes it fits perfectly, and probably does for many here tonight, but it makes her tense, wanting to fight, angry. She suddenly realizes it was a mistake to have come tonight, should just go home, to bed or to her punching bag.

A pair of known warm hands gently touches her shoulders from behind, making her turn.

- Mr. K.-

He keeps both hands on her, calm, immobile, letting her decide to shake him off or not. She relaxes under his touch, even tonight, and lays her head briefly on his arm, consenting to his presence. He bends and kisses her cheek but immediately stands again, not letting it trail, not asking for more; his lips were not yet on her skin and she had moved her head away annoyingly. He comes around and sits in front of her, taking her hands in his while he actually asks if he can. Her almost snappy "why the fuck do you ask" of a response does not make him let go. He just holds her hands, looks at her intensively and breathes calmly. And she sinks in her chair, sorry in her eyes for her words, sorry she almost took it out on him.

They talk a bit. She does not generally do small talk and that's all he seems to be able to get out of her tonight. Her walls are up and solidified, self-preservation he recognizes too well, having the same coping mechanisms himself sometimes. She is making an effort to stay kind but he can see the tumult and angry need to fight in her, as clearly as if it was written on her face in black marker.

He lets her finish her rambling on how a healthy splash of gin in her soda would be good and how she is not getting use to these local rules about booze. Really not like her. Then, squeezing her hands a little and leaning towards her, he softly asks if she trust him. The carelessness of her "yes, obviously" answer makes him pause, but his "good, we are going to play then" reply while getting up still comes out. She starts arguing but he stops her, telling her this is for her only and that if it does not work, she can just stop it, anytime; that it may do her good; and that on the other hand, if she gets out of her head too much (he knows her well after all), he'll take her home and stay with her. In all cases offering safety. She softens at his word, he can see she's touched, and also her internal debate. She quickly acquiesces with a half-smile and a shoulder shrug. Good enough for him, he did not expect a celebratory dance.

He confirms her safeword has not changed and guides her to an available area. She waits while he gets a spanking chair, one high enough for him, and a footstool, and returns to her. As he approaches, she instinctively drops to her knees and raises her arms. Makes him smile, even if she's not really into it she's still herself enough to know her needs. He is pleased and reassured of his decision by it.

He removes her short dress and makes her stands in front of him, where he silently removes her bra and panties, keeping eye contact. They walk to the chair where he sits and bends her over his knees, ensuring she has no grips on anything, feet and hands above the floor. She wiggles a little, finding a comfortable balanced position.

He starts slowly, warming her skin with light taps and caresses, but she is not in the right headspace for sensuality, no reaction at all, breathing almost annoyed. So he increases the force and tempo at once, hard slaps concentrated on her ass. Quickly she starts swearing, yells angry nonsense at him, wiggles trying to get a grip on something... but he continues, a stabilizing hand on her back her.

Slap slap slap.

It hurts, she is only feeling the pain, not knowing why she accepted to play, this is not fun at all, questioning why she's even here. Slap slap slap. She has gone quiet; taking each hit, resign to just tough him out and then go home.

He slows down, stops, and caresses her now red and painful skin. Done? She tries to get up. But no, harder, faster slaps starts. Slap slap slap. She yells, wiggles, calls him names. He wonders if she is going to safeword or if she will break free of her overthinking and let go? Her anger is coming out, good, but she is still completely in her head. His hand is starting to tire but he continues, hard and steady, (she has not asked him to stop in any ways, shape or forms) and she has gone quiet again, resigned and enduring. He doubts she knows why right now, she started giving in into the pain, absorbing.

He gives her an even harder slap, flat on both cheeks at once. She inhales sharply and holds her breath, tears rolling down her face, mascara streaking black. He gives her another one as strong and pauses, no caress, his hand (slightly hurting now) in the air. She exhales loudly, choking a little and breaks down crying, unreservedly.

He restarts spanking her, hard enough to sting but not hurt, and continues, rhythmically, while she cries. Slowing down as her sobs subsided, guiding as much as following her. As she goes limp, he stops and caresses her back, rests a hand lightly on her bright red butt cheeks, comforting caring words coming instinctively to him. He just let her be, let her calm down at her own pace. She shivers and starts to move to stand but he stops her, reassuring her back with words and touch, and tells her to wait, he needs to apply arnica to her skin.

She submits docily, wincing as he rubs the cream into her sore skin. He helps her get up and, sliding her dress on and wrapping her in her blanket, walks her to a calm corner couch. Mr. T, a friend, and DM tonight, tell him to go ahead, that he'll clean and take care of the equipment. He breathes relief, realizing he needs to be held as much as she does right now.

Sitting, he brings her down on his laps. She flinches as she sits but melts into him with surrender and need, completely in his arms. She cries again quietly in his shoulder for a little while, angriness gone, able to appreciate his presence and to receive and give comfort. They sit there, embraced, silent now, she's half nodding off. As they steady and she starts to stir, he offers to take her home. Which she accepts with some relief and an almost pleading "yes, please".

At her home, he locks the door and guides her to her bedroom, let's her do her nighttime ablutions and helps her to bed. Naked, clearly exhausted, she falls asleep almost immediately, with him sitting by her side. They'll have an open, heart to heart discussion he will be grateful for in the morning. For now, he kisses her forehead as a good night; surprise himself for feeling a little pinch in his heart, and goes to the guest room bed. Sleep soon takes him too, but not as quickly...

The End