Experiments can result in success, failure, or occasionally, something else completely unexpected. Were the outcome known in advance, it wouldn’t be an experiment. My dear husband, Randy, regularly employs the scientific method when it comes to my spankings. He is endlessly inventive and relishes a well-executed surprise. Saturday night, in honor of the New Year, he unleashed a new mind-blowing experiment. As his designated lab animal, I had the honor of testing it.
He warned me earlier in the day that I should be prepared for a “rockin’ New Year’s Eve celebration.” After all these years, I certainly knew what that meant, or at least, I thought I did. I spent the early evening answering e-mail and visiting some of my favorite spanko blogs. A little after ten o’clock, Randy appeared beside me. The time had come.
“Let’s go, Bon.” Upon hearing his words, those pesky little butterflies took flight within my stomach. I told myself that there was no reason for me to be nervous. But I was. This was my dear husband. He wouldn’t hurt me. It was just spanking and lovemaking. I positively adore those activities. I knew he’d gone to a lot of trouble to plan something special for the occasion. Yet still I hesitated.
“Are you coming?” His voice was soothing, but his message was impatient. He placed his hand gently upon my shoulder. It was time for our celebration.
The full treatment
I stood and followed him into the living room. He had arranged various spanking and bondage accessories on and around the couch. Seeing this collection arrayed before me, I knew I was in for the full treatment. He quickly separated me from my clothing. Once I was completely naked, he forcefully took me in his strong arms and began to kiss me. His lips caressed mine as his hands moved all over my exposed flesh. As reluctant as I had been, my resistance was falling fast.
I gasped as his mouth moved downward, kissing my earlobe, my neck, my shoulder, my chest, and my breasts. He kissed, licked, sucked, and nibbled each nipple in most delightful way. At this rate, I knew I would soon be ready for almost anything.
Randy had me lean against the back of the couch facing away from it. When he knelt before me, I parted my thighs to welcome his overture. Almost from the moment his tongue made contact, I felt lost in lusty delirium. His skilled technique yielded a soaring orgasm. I shook as waves of pleasure washed over me. It was all I could do to maintain my balance.
Randy stood and embraced me again. I buried my face in his chest. This was a place where I belonged. I might have been happy to stand there in his arms all evening. But that was clearly not the plan.
I lay passively
He was gentle as he turned me around to face the couch and he slowly bent my body over the back of it. I didn’t have much of an opportunity to get comfortable before Randy placed a scarf over my eyes. Plunged into darkness, I lay passively as more changes unfolded. My hands were bound in front of me using pantyhose. My ankles were then tied to a spreader bar. So far, we were on reasonably familiar ground. I trusted my lover to protect me.
What happened next was something I didn’t anticipate. Randy placed over my ears his new noise canceling headphones. Our daughter and I had pooled our funds to buy these for him as a surprise Christmas gift this year. My ears were instantly filled with swirling spacy techno music. Combined with the blindfold, it created a completely disorienting environment.
I struggled to keep my wits and not panic. I felt cut off and isolated from the world. This was not much fun. Before I could further ponder my fate, there was a sudden explosion on the surface of my bottom as a wooden paddle struck. I know I screamed involuntarily, but I couldn’t hear it. That was weird. Again the paddle fell. The loud hypnotic music scrambled my mind. Over and over, the paddle scalded my skin. It hurt intensely. I had no way to communicate. I felt completely trapped.
“Red! Red! Red!” I yelled. That was it. I had invoked my safeword for the first time in recent memory. I just couldn’t take it any longer.
Randy responded as my champion. He pulled off the headphones and the blindfold. Just as quickly, he removed the bonds and set me free.
He sat on the couch. I curled up on his lap and cried. He hugged me tightly. I felt so broken up and scared that I couldn’t speak. I was disappointed that I had ruined all of his plans. Randy told me later that he had no idea why I was so upset and at that moment, I was unable to explain. I just wept uncontrollably.
Amid the sobs, I recall thinking that this isn’t like me. Generally, I’m willing to try almost anything. Even now, I don’t fully comprehend what happened.
After what was probably ten or fifteen minutes of cuddling, I had settled down to the point where Randy was able to get up, cover me with a blanket, and clean up his toys. He turned on the television and I watched poor old Dick Clark for a while. He brought me my comfortable nightgown, robe, and slippers. Now I was beginning to feel human again.
Randy was very apologetic. He didn’t know what he had done wrong and I couldn’t tell him because I had no desire to revisit that scary place. Just before midnight, I asked him to give me a hand spanking over his lap. He happily complied. It made my bottom feel warm and stingy and nice. It was precisely what I needed.
After midnight, we moved upstairs to our bedroom. Once there, we made tender love beneath the covers. It was an act of confirmation and reassurance. The bond between us remains strong. While we may encounter bumps in the road, our direction remains constant.
Here’s what I learned:
- Everyone needs a safeword.
- Some experiments don’t succeed.
- We can learn more from failure than from success.
- Even experienced players have limits.
- Those limits are not always where we think they are.
- Love will see us through life’s trials.
- A challenge overcome together only strengthens our relationship.
I realize this tale is not our usual joyful spank-o-rama, but at least it had a happy ending.
Thank you, Bonnie, for permission to post this thought-provoking note. — Doc