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We are three adults living in a polyamorous triad family. The content here is intended for an adult audience. If you are not an adult, please leave now.


The Spanking/Switching Event

We were up late last night -- well, sort of.  We tried to stay awake to watch our Cincinnati Reds play baseball in St. Louis, and that game (which was supposed to start at 8:15 PM) was delayed for more than two hours by wild weather.  I know I slept through most of it, and I suspect He napped on and off as well.  When we finally dragged ourselves off to bed, after the predictable loss, it was well after 2 AM.

Perhaps, not surprisingly then, we slept soundly until about 8:30 this morning.  We might have slept later than that except that we were awakened by barking dogs outside our bedroom window -- part of the condo complex's ongoing efforts to keep the Canada Geese away from our ponds and grounds.

Once awake, He seemed to be in a soft and cuddly mood.  It was clear that He was feeling turned on, but He didn't seem to feel any sense of urgency, and we snuggled and scratched and rubbed, murmuring softly to one another.  In time, our conversation began to turn to the subject of THE BIRTHDAY SPANKING.  At the mention of that, He went straight to the very young, very innocent, very sweet sounding persona that I see more and more of these days -- the one that I imagine is the young boy that He was before life took Him down the path to anger and fury and addiction.  That sweet youngster, is charming -- especially in the face of a spanking.  He blushes and squirms and giggles shyly.

For my part, I was full of questions --
  • Now? or Later?
  • One spanking?  or Two?
  • Shared between T and I? or Separately with each of us?
  • Implements?  or Just my hand?

I found myself contemplating that, in this instance, and for the first time ever, I was about to take on the role of Top without a corollary submissive/service orientation.  I could feel myself preparing to spank Him AS MYSELF -- and I was clear that He wasn't driving my actions and decisions.  There was no sense that He was Topping from the Bottom, and no scintilla of Service Topping on my part.  He was exactly Himself, and I was exactly myself, and we were together very gently and delightfully in the quiet of the rainy spring morning.

And so, He rolled over, and I spanked Him just so.  With my hand.  For His birthday.  With 62 smacks plus all the requisite extra "ONES" to grow on and for luck and happiness and ...  When it was done, His cheeks were a lovely soft pink -- and my poor hand was the brightest shade of red!  Ouch!  LOL!  What a delightful way to start our new year...

Happy birthday, My Love, My Sir, My Imp, My Master.  I love you so much.  Always and all ways.


1 comment:

  1. How sweet.

    A belated happy birthday


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