There’s a delicious kind of spanking that comes not with a squeal and a sting but with calmness and closeness. It’s almost… snuggly? I hate that word. But I love the feeling: squashed tight against someone with my arse exposed, their fingers digging hard into my naked flesh.
Over the knee spankings. Those ones you read about sometimes in books from before the war. The naughty individual is taken over the knee and given a few stern whacks to teach them a lesson. But it’s not always about punishment: sometimes an over the knee spanking works far more like a treat.
Some days it’s all I need, and I don’t quite realise it’s what I need until I get it. His hand firmly gripping my wrist, pulling me in one swift movement across his lap. The warmth spreading through my thighs as they press against his. A few words:
“Do you need a spanking?”