Sam and I had lived together for around 3 months when my twentieth birthday arrived. Looking back on it now, I think that was the day that would eventually change my life! On that special day, Sam did something I never expected. He first told me to undress completely, which wasn't unusual, this actually happened quite often. He then grabbed my wrist and forcefully pulled me over his lap. With one big warm hand on my naked back, he raised the other and gave me a playful smack on my right cheek. I giggled. The next swat was harder, but still didn't even sting.
After 4 or 5 of his playful spanks, I asked for them harder. He hit me the next time, and it almost stung. So I asked for it harder again. We went back and forth until the last 5. Those last five left my butt warm and rosy red with his palm prints all over it. I don't think I'd realized how turned on I'd gotten until the spanking was over with! My smallish penis was rock hard! And I could feel Sam's giant cock throbbing against my hip.
I slid off his lap onto my knees and proceeded to give him the best blowjob I'd ever given. I even showed him his cream on my tongue before swallowing it, I know he loves that. As soon as I'd swallowed, I looked up into his eyes and felt my lower lip quiver. The next thing I knew I was sobbing uncontrollably. Sam reached down and pulled me onto his lap, holding me close and letting me cry my eyes out. It took me quite a while to get a hold of myself. The emotions rushing through me were so powerful. I had feelings I'd never experienced before and couldn't explain if tried.
When I'd finally calmed down, Sam whispered in my ear, "Are you okay?" After meeting his eyes, I began to giggle. With it all over with, it was embarrassing that I'd broken down like that. I tried to tell him it was nothing. But he wouldn't buy it. He kept me there naked on his lap and we talked about it.
After he'd asked me a multitude of questions about the spanking and my emotional meltdown, all of which were completely humiliating to answer. He began asking me about my childhood. Through that conversation, we both learned a something about me. While growing up, I looked for ways to get punished. It was like I needed my mother making the decisions and enforcing rules. My mother had never abused me, not even close. If I used any of the big swear words or got caught in a lie, I'd be sure to find myself standing in the bathroom with a bar of soap in my mouth. For most other mistakes, I'd wind up over her lap getting a spanking. Most of the spankings I could remember were on my bare bottom.
Another thing we'd learned from that long conversation was that even now, I felt I needed to be punished from time to time. And I confessed that I loved the idea of Sam deciding when and how I would receive that punishment. That statement led to the tangent of what I thought a punishment should be. I didn't know exactly, other than a spanking, but told him I thought a punishment should hurt. It shouldn't be playful or restrained. After all, it was supposed to be a punishment.
Sam held me close against him then. As I cuddled up against him on his lap, he whispered in my ear, "Baby, I'd be happy to punish you, I think I might enjoy it. But I need to hear you tell me that you'll accept the punishments without your feelings changing toward me. I can't imagine you falling out of love with me because of this. I know you can't make that promise, but I need to hear you say it. I need you to look me in the eye and ask me to punish you when you need it. I need you to tell me that you want it, that you need it. Can you do that?"
I stood there blushing and feeling pretty foolish for what seemed like hours. I was still naked and he was completely dressed. I don't think I could have felt sillier if I tried. Finally, a loving smile spread across his face when he pulled me into his arms and hugged me. He told me that he loved me too and from now on, I should be on my best behavior because he would be watching. We both giggled a little and held each other close.
On the drive home from visiting my mom on Friday evening, Sam kept his hands on the wheel and his eyes on the road when he told me that I'd disappointed him. He told me that I hadn't given my mom a "hello hug or kiss" nor did I bother to give her the same affection before we left. For that matter, I hadn't even told her that I loved her. In a very business-like tone, Sam went on to tell me he found this behavior unacceptable and I would be punished when we arrived home.
I almost said something about being unable to remember the last time I hugged or kissed my mom, but I caught myself at the last moment. This was going to be my very first official punishment from Sam and I could hardly wait! I looked over at the man I loved and he showed no emotion other than disappointment. For a split second, I found myself feeling terrible that I'd let him down. But my excitement chased that thought from my mind. This is what I'd asked for. It was what I thought I needed. And the drive couldn't have gone by faster.
When the garage door had closed behind us, Sam spoke for the first time since announcing the punishment. He told me to wait right where I was. The tone of voice he used actually frightened me. He sounded really mad, I'd never heard him use that tone with me before.
Like an explosion his open hand struck my bottom with enough force to make me feel like my eyes popped out of my head. There was no hesitation, his hand bounced off my butt and slammed back into me. By that second blow, I felt tears begin to roll down my face. By the third or fourth I was begging him to stop and screaming each time he hit me.
I have no idea how many times he struck me, I lost count. But when my first punishment had finally ended, he practically pushed me off his lap as if he were disgusted by me. I wound up crouching on floor, looking up at him with my tear streaked face. In that same frightening, disappointed tone, Sam told me to stand in the corner with my hands behind my head until he told me otherwise. He raised his arm and pointed to the corner next to our large picture window. Thankfully, the drapes were drawn on that window.
I picked myself up and scurried to that corner. With my nose nearly touching the wall, I laced my fingers behind my head. After several moments, I still hadn't heard a sound from Sam, all I could hear were my own fading sobs. I imagined him staring at my freshly punished bottom. I tried to picture what my butt must look like in my mind. All that made me do was focus on how badly it hurt. From then on, I couldn't stop my hips from wiggling around. I needed to rub my cheeks badly!
Sam's voice had almost returned to its normal sound when he spoke again. "From now on, when you see your mother, you will greet her with a nice hug and kiss and I want to hear you tell her how much you love her. She'll get the same respect from you before we leave. Do you understand me?"
With that, I heard him stand up and leave the room with the chair he had sat in. I stood with my nose in the corner for quite a while. My sobbing eventually stopped and tried to hear what he was doing, but there wasn't a sound. I stayed as quiet as possible, listening, trying to figure out where he was. My arms and legs were beginning to get stiff when I heard footsteps. I guessed he was walking from our bedroom to the bathroom. He then turned on the water, he was washing his hands. Then the water came back on. It took me a little bit to figure out he was running a bath. When he stopped the water, I heard him walking through the house toward the living room where I stood.
From right behind me, he said, "Come here Sweetie. Your punishment is over."
I spun around and found myself in his arms. He hadn't changed, he was still dressed as he had been when we were at my mom's house. He didn't say a word when I broke down into tears again. He gently rubbed my back, holding my head against his chest. When I managed to speak, I tried to tell him how sorry I was. I went on to babble about disappointing him and mistreating my mom. He lovingly shh'ed and told me everything was alright. He told me he loved me more than anything else. But that he would punish me if I needed it.
The ease he had slipped into the role of my punisher was a little frightening. That was the first time I'd ever REALLY been punished by anyone other than my mother. I was new to this! But Sam seemed to be completely comfortable beating my butt if needed. He was a lot better at it than my mom ever was too.
While just beginning to get control of myself again, Sam reached down and picked me up off the floor into his arms. He carried me down the hall and across the threshold of the bathroom as if I were his bride. Without even straining himself, he slowly lowered me into the rather warm bubbly bathwater. He knelt down beside the tub, grabbed a clean washcloth and began to wash every square inch of my body.