on McKenna time, 6, spanking

At the time of posting this, my visit with Master M has finished, and I am home again. What follows are some of my notes and recollections that I didn’t have time to post while I was there.

Sorry that what I post here is a mess — my raw notes, half-edited but not really, and not in my usual narrative. It’s a jumble, but if I wait to write it out more polished, it won’t get posted for a long time.

“At times I will spank you.”

“No, really, sir, you don’t have to. I’ll be fine without.” [Said with a touch of “ham-on-wry.”]

He smiles, but forges on: “When I spank you, what’s the purpose?” [His Socratic mode.]

“For your pleasure. And my humiliation.”

“Yes.” He seems pleased I have grasped and remembered the mantra for the week. “In our lifestyle,” he says, “spanking gets confused with punishment. I don’t use it that way.”

He establishes with me a signal for spanking time.

He lightly slaps the back of his left hand with his right. He says that in the company of others, it will be practically unnoticeable, but it will be, now, understandable to me. He will call my name, slap the back of his hand, and I will come to him, standing by his side, facing him.

He asked me about my childhood associations with being spanked.

Yes, I was spanked. No, it wasn’t especially traumatic. Yes, as an adult now, I still associate it with childhood punishment.

Picture: Me sitting at his feet, one arm supporting me on the area rug, my legs curled to the side, my miniskirt barely covering me — this week I have long stopped caring about what shows or doesn’t show.

“Were you ever spanked in front of others?”

“I don’t remember if I was, sir.”

“If I were to spank you in front of a crowd of other adults, how would you feel?”

“Do you have an audience waiting in the atrium ready to come in and watch me being spanked?” [He seems to let me be wry and sarcastic, but how far does this go? Does he know this is my natural nervous response? I’ll need to find out somehow.]

He smiled and chuckled [good sign]. “I’ll see if I can arrange that,” he said. [He actually played along.]

“Yes, it would humiliate me to be seen being spanked by others. Of course.”

“It would humiliate you, but not traumatize you?”


Maybe Thursday?

He is prowling through my mind on the subject of spanking. I admit to him that public spanking is an erotic fantasy of mine, but not something I necessarily desire in person. “It’s a submissive response,” I say. “Love-hate. It’s thrilling in a fantasy story, but something else in person. I might desire it for real, but in a different way. I don’t know.”

I know full well his intention is to spank me sometimes in public. It’s no longer an “if.” I know that whether I like it or not matters not to Master McKenna. He wants to know what my submissive feeling will be when he does me across his lap — just so he can enjoy it. He wants to enjoy my debasement as he is slapping me.

It’s important that I come to his left side. I have to remember this. Left side. He is left-handed and wants his spanks to come at me from that side.

Another conversation about spanking. He is crawling through my mind on this.

I am sharing with him, willingly telling him my secrets. [This is the strange, unique partnership of dom and sub, with me the slave supplying fuel to him the dom for his deeper humiliation of me. As we slave girls share more of ourselves, we are all the while abetting our own submissive humiliation.]

He and I talk about the experience of being an adult taken across another’s lap and hit by hand. He is not one for pet play, or for making his slave a little girl. The outrage of a spanking for him (and me) is based on the fact that I am an adult, a fully grown-up woman, yet being spanked across his lap. Who does that?

He asks how I’d feel if spanked by someone younger. “It would be more debasing,” I admit. How would I be as a submissive woman, slave, to a younger person has come up before and makes me feel something different? I don’t know. [I need to explore this more myself.]

Another talk-time about spanking:

He asks if I have written spanking fiction. Yes, I have, and I mention one post. [Note: forward it to him.] This is the public aspect of the act, the special shame of being spanked in front of witnesses. I tell him I will feel a deep disgrace to be spanked in front of strangers. Like, in front of the staff, god forbid.

It feels I am talking too much to him, revealing more than I should, perhaps, although these are the territory rights of a master.

He wants to know how my being spanked fucks with my mind.

He mentioned the general outrage of gender in spanking — a man striking me, a woman, so regular a part of the D/s life yet so inappropriate in the vanilla world. An added insight for me: I will walk away from being spanked by this man, knowing I have allowed myself, a woman, to be done in such a way by him, a man, and already hearing the jeers of judgment, already my face blushing from the shame of it. [Blushing the same color as my ass.]

We actually practice this.

Left side. I will stand facing him.

He then will nod, and I am to squat beside him — not a full squat, but with my knees bending and my thighs coming to a 90-degree angle, as if I’m sitting on a chair, without the actual chair. (Must keep my back straight.) A difficult position to get to and more to maintain, but thankfully it’s just for a moment.

I am then to reach across his body for the opposite side of his chair. If he’s in an easy chair, this will be the arms of the chair on the opposite side. If he’s in a straight-back chair, it will be the edge of the seat itself.

My arms support me there for a moment, and I let myself down, gradually, until I am spread across his lap.

Even in such a thing as spanking, he prefers economy in movement, precision in my body posture and control. [Is precision his personality or obsession or fetish?]

To him — this is his pleasure really — all of my body posture-and-movement training tells others I have been trained this way. It shows others that Master has control of me even at the muscular level. He wants that. But for a body to be draped across a man’s lap is a particularly awkward movement. Even this he doesn’t want to be fumbling and fussy.

We practice this part of it a few times. My thighs start to hurt, but I push on. I am getting into a flow of movement, and at times I actually can be graceful.

“Take off your top.”

“I thought you’d never ask,” I say, all sassy.

He shakes his head, grins. “We have to practice breast placement,” he says.

My top comes off. “I think, sir, they’re already in the only place they can be.” More sass from me, but my breasts bounce out, my nipples are perky, and he doesn’t seem to care.

“You have a lot to place.”

“Nice,” I reply.

[He seems to accept my sass when it’s self-deprecating, coming out of my acknowledgement of my subservience to him.]

So it turns out, “breast placement” is a thing. In the straight-back chair without arms, he instructs me to extend my torso across his lap so my breasts hang on the other side. In the easy chair with padded armrests, though, my breasts rest partially on the rest, pushing that end of me up and making for him a slanted, more difficult body arrangement for my spanking.

“You have to eyeball it and adjust yourself as you stretch across. Your tits can wedge against the far side of the armrest but not lie on top of it.”

I try, rather awkwardly, and with some adjustments, get to the desired position, my breasts clearing the opposite arm. [Tab A fits into slot B.]

He doesn’t like adjustments. “Too fidgety,” he says.

I try it again several times, eventually doing it in one fluid motion.

“Good.” he says.

“But,” I say as I push myself up from him, “that’s this chair. What if you’re sitting in a different chair?”

“You’ll have to practice with different chairs. Learn to eyeball them.”

“So, in every chair you ever sit in, I must anticipate the possibility that you might decide to spank me, and I’ll have to estimate how far I stretch myself across my lap?”

“Yes,” he says. “It’s the sort of thing your mind should be focused on.”

“I think it would be easier if you just grab me, yank me across your lap, and whack mercilessly on my ass cheeks.”

He says something like: “One: I don’t care what you think. Two: I will just grab you and spank you sometimes. Three: Other times I want others to see you submit automatically — and gracefully — to being spanked.”

[My thoughts: He’s so appealing when he gets into this bemused, half-joking-yet-serious dominant thing… Spanking for him is really a public deal… He actually does care what I think, but enjoys telling me he doesn’t.]

“It sounds like a lot of spanking times.”

“Maybe. That’s for me to decide.”

OK, then.

He has a phone call. Then another conversation with someone else by phone. He leaves.

We return to practice an hour later. [Write this as one continuous practice session?]

Once I (gracefully) assume the position across his lap, I am to grasp the right legs of the chair with my hands, so to steady myself.

“Now spread your legs so your feet are approximately parallel to the chair legs.”

I do. I dare to ask why.

“It opens your pussy from behind, which people want to see.”

“Well, good,” I say. “I was worried this would be less than ladylike.”

He laughs at that. [Good.]

My spread legs also steady me on that side, my heels angling into the carpet like anchors. I don’t know what they’ll do on bare floors.

The word “steady” is part of Master’s design. “As I spank you, you must not wriggle or twist or struggle. You are here in this position to receive the spanking. You must give yourself to it.”

He lifts my skirt, and I feel air on my cheek flesh. He slaps my ass twice , but rather lightly. Anticipating the third slap, I raise my rear toward him, and he reprimands me: “No, you may not reach for it. You just take it, absorb it. Don’t anticipate me. But when I do this for real, I’m quite sure you won’t want to be ass up.”

We also practice the aftermath, my pushing myself back up and out of the position after I am spanked — something like how a gymnast dismounts. This is hard for me, not pretty. I will have to practice.

We go through the sequence more times, and I’m finally remembering each step, but still needing work on my technique. I also know it will be harder when he spanks me for real.

I fear that Master is disappointed with me. “I’ll do better,” I promise him.

He calls it a day, or at least a morning. “Final thoughts?” he asks me.

“I think you’ve done this before, sir.”

Again, I’m sorry for the mess of my notes above. I’m sure it’s not easy reading.

So, all of that happened before Monday morning.

Then, Monday morning Master McKenna spanked me for real. I will post this later today or tomorrow. I don’t mean that as a tease, but simply because I’m still processing that in my thoughts and feelings.

6 thoughts on “on McKenna time, 6, spanking

  1. “Again, I’m sorry for the mess of my notes above. I’m sure it’s not easy reading.”
    Maybe not every time, but this form of storytelling is wonderful. And it’s even more wonderful to see that you two complement each other in the lines, that you can turn your sour thoughts into lines that MM responds to in the same character. Your brackets with palette and thin brush give life and useful information, in a whimsical way.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. thank you, nudo. this means a lot to me. I usually feel that I can’t just dump my notes into my blog, but just had to this time. good to hear that it comes out OK and even might offer a different glimpse of me in my experiences.

      Liked by 1 person

  2. What strikes me the most about this post is his concern for your well being. Master McKenna doesn’t mind humiliating you…he may even see this as beneficial to your submissive mindset. But he has no wish to traumatize you. This is a beautiful thing❤

    Liked by 1 person

    1. yes to all of what you said… it really is a beautiful trait in him… He’s interesting, because what he does with me isn’t soft or weak in any way and he has this kind of professional executive authority thing going on — yet he takes care of his toys… nora, the other point I’d add is that his wanting to know how I respond to humiliations inspires in me a greater trust in him…

      Liked by 1 person

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