I am a proper lady!

I don’t think about the way it would feel to hear a man’s deep voice of authority, telling me that I’ve done something wrong. I most certainly don’t think about the sensations, from the buzzing in my nervous system to the heat that forms on my cheeks when I know that I’m in trouble, ladies never get in trouble. I’m always well behaved, I follow the rules. I don’t fantasize. I don’t think about the way I can tell by the look in his eyes that I’ve done something that I shouldn’t have done.

I most definitely don’t think about that jittery feeling that I would have if the right man gave me the look that says, ‘get over here.’ And I certainly don’t think about how I would do everything I could in my power to stop whatever it was that was about to happen. Most likely a spanking… I know it’s a spanking. And I most certainly don’t want to experience a bare bottomed, humiliating, leg kicking, body thrashing spanking.

No, that’s not ladylike at all….

And as the proper young lady that I am, I cannot let him know that I like it. No, the slightest hint of enjoyment will send him into a sinisterly satisfied state! And I most certainly cannot have that either!

My heart is racing, my cheeks are hot, I feel flustered and embarrassed, there’s a feeling of dread too… and yet my body is excited, and I myself am excited and horrified at the same time. I know I’m in trouble, I know it’s going to hurt… it always hurts, and I always cry… and it always feels so good to cry.

Ladies never allow themselves to cry… perhaps that’s why they need someone there to invoke the tears and save their pride like my own.

I know I should just get over there and get it over with. Bend over his knee and take the punishment… but… if I go over there, doesn’t that give a hint that- perhaps the spanking isn’t all that terrible?

I can’t let him know that.

I don’t think about running! I don’t think about dashing through the house, different rooms, different hallways, different hiding spots, all the while he follows. He doesn’t run, but he follows. And I certainly don’t think about the building fear inside of my chest as I try not to laugh, was I insane? Why was I challenging a man that was stronger than me? Faster than me? More dominant than me.

Truly I don’t know… but I do know that I would never think about screaming when the closet door flies open. And I know that I immediately try to sweet talk my way out of the consequences that I so rightfully earned when I decided to run. And hide. And not listen. And kick… and scream… and lick his hand as he covered my mouth.

And truthfully; I’ve never experienced a spanking… and I certainly don’t think about it now, not as a young woman. I don’t think about the way it would feel to be pulled over a man’s knee, and held down- no matter how much I tried to talk him out of it, no matter how much I sucked up to him, I couldn’t control him…. The desire to have an uncontrollable force desire me, and be the only one that he desires- that is something intoxicating to my feminine. I desire to feel a true submission, a true ‘bottom’ moment if you will.

And I will never think about the force of the spanks on my bare bottom, and I would never think about the heat of those spanks. I certainly would never think about crying, and pouting, and feeling free. I would never think about pouting and looking over the marks in the mirror while he watched and made me recite my apologies out loud.

a lady would never admit to thinking such a thing…. And I am a proper lady.