For as long as I can recall I have had fantasies of submission and of being dominated, degraded and humiliated. In most of my relationships, I had tried to encourage my partner to spank or tease me and had adopted a submissive role. Most of the times it was fairly tame and playful although I had come across a few more...interesting types from time to time. More than one who was a bit scary.
For the last year or two of my school days and throughout university I bounced between teenage infatuations and playful dalliances with boys and, increasingly often, with girls. I had my share of spankings, some quite painful. I learned that being tied or cuffed was really quite scary, even with someone you trust a lot, and not something to playfully encourage with someone unless you know them very well. Genuine helplessness in cuffs or with your hands tied is scary and really made you consider what you knew about the other person walking around the room looking at you with hunger in their eyes.
When I first went out with Liam, I had already left university about two years before. He was athletic and fit and mostly sweet. He held doors open for women (not just me) and tended to take the lead in decisions about what we did and where we went. All in a reassuringly and traditionally manly fashion without being condescending or "mansplaining" as he did so. We didn't get together through any shared interest in spanking or BDSM or indeed anything kinky. It was relatively early in our relationship, however, that we discovered that we shared an interest in that direction.
One evening we were cuddling and kissing on the sofa in front of the TV. I needed to go and pee and Liam held on to me, playfully teasing me and squeezing my tummy. He tickled me until I squealed that I would wet myself if he didn't let me go. It was all playful and tame, but nevertheless, he held me firmly enough that I really couldn't get up. He looked in my face with an oddly amused expression when he told me that I had to beg him to allow me to go and when he made me take off my jeans and panties before allowing me to run up to the bathroom. I wasn't really surprised when I came back from the bathroom and found that he didn't want to hand back my clothes straight away. He sent me into the kitchen to make coffee for us, nude from the waist down.
Over the next few days and weeks, this developed, initially from broadly similar repeats of the scene to me always needing to ask or undress before I could go to the loo. Soon Liam had developed a liking for teasing me, having me spend more time undressed. Spanking me when I objected or didn't comply with the detail of his teasing demands. Within a month or two we had gone from a fairly vanilla couple, albeit always reasonably active sexually, to having very clearly defined sub and dom roles in our relationship. I think that we both realized that whilst we clearly shared strong inclinations in this direction, this wasn't quite the answer to either of our fantasies, not to mention it was not a very practical lifestyle. Somehow we had got ourselves into a spiral where we seemed to need to become more extreme all the time in an effort to keep things exciting.
In bed one night Liam asked if I liked it when he spanked me. I said that it made me feel a little helpless. That I felt I was in his power, in his control. I told him that mostly this turned me on but sometimes it was a little bit too sore or sometimes it just annoyed me and wasn't really a turn on. Sometimes it even felt a little silly when we were acting out some games or fantasy.
Liam was quiet for a while, and I wasn't sure if what I'd said had upset or disappointed him. Perhaps I had spoiled things. Maybe that was the end of the spanking games. Perhaps it was even more than that. I lay wondering what to say, wondering how I really felt about this. What we had was important to me, it was just that, somehow, what we were doing lately was beginning to feel a little false or forced. Liam asking me to do something silly, me pretending to refuse or to try and fail to comply. Liam spanking me as a punishment for being so bad. It was becoming less fulfilling every day, and as a result, we were getting more extreme in the tasks and the punishments in an effort to maintain some level of excitement. But that just wasn't really doing it for either of us.
Before we fell asleep, Liam spoke. He was lying on his back, fully awake and speaking up to the ceiling. He'd clearly been considering things longer than just the last half hour and when he spoke it was more like he was announcing how it was now going to be, rather than making a suggestion. Liam said that he thought it would be good for me if he spanked me every night. Before bed. No more dreaming up reasons for needing a punishment or inventing ever more complex challenges for me to fail. Starting tomorrow night, he would spank me every night before I got in bed. That I would not undress, not go to bed until he spanked me. Without exceptions. He would decide how, where and how much he spanked me.
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I didn't really say anything that night, and the next morning we got up without any further discussion. All day I couldn't get the anticipation out of my head. It was odd. Lately, Liam had been increasingly dominant with me. I was often teased or humiliated or spanked, but somehow this felt entirely different. I would go home tonight and have to...what? I wasn't sure. Would it be erotic? Harsh? Just a token? Perhaps it was the very fact of the way Liam had just announced this and that it wasn't up to me which was exciting me.
Liam seemed to understand this, and when we both got home in the evening he was sweet and innocent and acting like no ten-ton elephant was stomping around the room! We made dinner together (not a very common occurrence) and other than a couple of affectionate pats and strokes as we passed one another, there was no hint of anything sexual; dominant or otherwise. Throughout the evening the crushing weight of the very normality of watching TV and drinking tea overlay the anticipation of the unknown, and left me almost unable to breath. Eventually, I could stand it no longer and an hour earlier than usual I announced that I was heading to bed. Liam just glanced at me, and in an entirely matter of fact tone told me,
"No, not yet Portia.”
I sat back on the sofa. I felt my face flush. What was happening?
Liam was undoubtedly the dominant partner, even outside of sexy games, but he didn't decide when I go to bed. He had spoken to me like I was a six year old. And now I had just done as I was told and sat down again without a word in protest. I sat chewing my lip and knowing my face was red. The longer that we didn't speak the bigger the issue seemed to become. What was I to do now? Should I sit and wait until told that I may go to bed? Or should I ask what time I was allowed to go? The situation seemed to be ludicrous. Meanwhile, Liam carried on watching a movie like it was the most normal evening.
I was sitting on the end of the sofa with my arms around my knees and realized that I was probably doing a good impression of a sulky child. This wasn't helped by the fact that when I came home, which felt like a lifetime ago, I had put on a short pleated skirt and thick mountain socks which I had hoped looked cute in anticipation of a sexy or playful evening. I took a deep breath, self consciously tried to retract my lower lip into a smile and looked over at Liam, hoping to give the impression that I was relaxed and not sulking.
Liam glanced over, smiled back and said. “The movie is over soon honey. Just wait until the end of the movie”.
He reached over and patted my thigh. “Good girl. Just be patient a little longer.”
And he went back to watching his movie.
“GOOD GIRL!” I screamed inside my head. “GOOD GIRL!?” What am I, a ten-year-old child? A Golden Retriever bringing back a stick? I felt my face heating again as I hugged my knees tighter and felt my lower lip growing again.
I stirred from my thoughts as Liam stood up and I realized that the credits were rolling on the screen.
“Cummon” he said cheerfully as he reached to take my hand and lift me up from the sofa.
“I'm going to grab a quick shower and get ready for bed. Would you do the lights and stuff?”
He paused at the door and turned to look at me meaningfully – for the first time since we got home from work. “....and Portia; don't get undressed or ready for bed until I say you can,”
And with that, he went off to the bathroom. Leaving me standing alone in the middle of the room with my mouth open and my cheeks growing redder.
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I was standing by the bed unsure what to do to busy myself and feeling a bit silly when I heard the bathroom door open. Moments later Liam entered the room with damp hair wearing shorts and a tee. He stopped and looked at me, his head cocked to one side. I stood quietly, waiting. Liam walked over and touched the side of my face his fingers as he brushed by to sit on the side of the bed. He let his hand run down my left arm and took my hand, pulling me to stand in front of him where he took my right hand in his left and looked up into my face.
“Now baby girl, I know that you find all this a bit scary. And you're right. It is a little scary, Portia.”
He paused and held my gaze, and my hands.
“But on the other hand, you don't really have any choice baby. And so there really isn't any benefit to worrying. From now on, it's not up to you anyway. Just be a good girl and trust me.”
