Spanking Zen

It's been a slow blogging month due to a combination of factors: spending time with my boyfriend, illness (yeah, I was back in the ER with another UTI the very day we left for the Grand Canyon), traveling and the fatigue it brings even though it's been way fun, sharing computer time with my boyfriend, and, of course, Christmas and all the work that brings. Can you believe I didn't even get a switch in my stocking? Hmm...I'm not sure if that's a good thing or bad...

Though, while a switch in the theoretical sense sounds exciting, on a practical level, it makes me tense up. My pain threshold is still quite low. After a spanking last week, I began to wonder if I used up all my endorphines in September with that kidney infection. Usually when I get spanked, the 6th or 8th stroke or so is the worse and I'll feel like I just can't bear another smack. But then the endorphines kick in and the spanking becomes more bearable. It still hurts a lot, but I know I can tolerate it to the end. However, when I get spanked now, I never seem to get over that hump. The endorphines never seem to come like they used to and every single smack feels absolutely unbearable, even though I know they are not nearly as hard as they usually are. It feels rather frustrating, though I suppose I'm just being impatient.

What feels really annoying is that even though it seems more painful and unbearable, I still don't cry. Granted, I'm not quite as stoic as I normally am. I do make a lot more noise (you know, a lot more "owees") and I squirm a bit more. A part of me wants to be spanked until I cry, but mostly the thought of that much pain terrifies me.

Yesterday's spanking was nice though. It was sorta spontaneous. We were cuddling on the bed and inevitably his hand was caressing my bottom. Then gently smacking it. Eventually I laid over his lap and he spanked me over my PJ bottoms. Then my bare bottom. With harder smacks. And this time, I tried not to tense up like I have been. To breathe deeply. To be aware of the sting. The thud of his hand reverberating in my cheeks. To remember the pleasure I usually feel to be over his lap. That mixture of happy, contented, well-spanked little girl and aroused, sexy, voluptuously-curved woman.

Call it my own form of spanking zen.