#139) That Moment Before All Hell Breaks Loose

There is a moment, though it seems like an eternity. It’s the moment when I know I’ve misbehaved, and my Top knows, and I know I’m going to be punished, and he’s thinking about just how to do it. I’m standing, my mind racing, a million butterflies swarming in my tummy, before my judge, jury, and executioner. He’s sitting in an armless chair, like a king on his throne. You would think I’d feel more powerful, dominant in this situation, looming over my man, but such is not the case.
And he reaches out to unbutton and unzip my jeans. And my arms hang limply at my side, or more often, I raise my arms at the elbows in an ineffectual gesture to silently say, “I know what’s coming. I’m not resisting in any way. I don’t want to make this bad predicament worse.”
The moment is exactly like the one where I’m in the rollercoaster cart, and we are ratcheting up the super steep incline to start the tummy-lurching experience, click-by-click, higher and higher. He’s going to pull my pants and underpants down in one quick, butt-jiggling yank, and I’ll be exposed and humiliated and trembling. My entire big bum tingles in anticipation. My pussy, which you’d think would be drawn-up tight and scared, in fight-or-flight mode, is actually just the opposite, getting more swollen and juicy by the second.
My mind whispers to my butt, “You’re in for it, little lady. You know you’re going to get a butt whipping, don’t you? He looks mad, in that smoldering, too-pissed-off-to-talk kind of way. And it’s all going to be unleashed on your sorry ass in a matter of seconds.”
That’s the moment. The moment I absolutely love. It’s the still, frozen moment in the ninth inning before your favorite baseball team member unloads on that sweet, fat pitch coming across the plate in seeming-slow motion, and knocks it out of the park.
Because spankings, and all other forms of corporal punishment, hurt! Like fucking hell! I hate them! I know, I’m a submissive. I get sexually excited by them. And I do. But that doesn’t lessen the pain. So that instant before the first solid swat lands, that’s my favorite moment in time. (It’s followed by the moment when the savage beating is through, and you are punished and cleansed, the wrong has been forgiven, and all is right with the world once more. But that’s another story.)

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