From: Daarriaa@aol.com Date: Tue, 17 Sep 1996 01:20:55 -0400 Subject: How do I ask?
This story has a spanking theme. Please do not read if you are under eighteen or donít like spanking stories.
This story is sad. At least to me it is.
But heck, you donít think Iím going to leave her hanging like this for long do you?
It is on my mind all the time. At all the wrong times.
We talk about everything, there are no secrets between us. Except this one and it wonít go away.
Itís not that I havenít tried. I have. Really I have. But no matter how I promise myself that I will put it from my mind it always returns and becomes part of my daily existence.
Will you understand? I wonder. I puzzle over how to bring it up. I devise a thousand different variations of the same theme. They seem so right when Iím alone. But in your presence, just when Iíve worked up the courage and am about to get it out, I feel a hot flush of embarrassment at the hollowness of my silly words. My will collapses leaving me once more to feel the fool.
Why canít I say the words? Is there something wrong with me? Am I strange? Am I so different? What will you think? Could you ever understand? Will you think less of me? Iím not sure I could bear that and so I keep my silence.
It hurts, I yearn to share my secret. If I canít tell you then truly there is no one in the world I can tell. The thought depresses me and I am at odds with myself over how to handle my internal conflict.
Such confusion. Such anguish. If I tell you, I hope that the knowledge will bring us even closer together and make my life complete with every need I have satisfied. I dread that the opposite could happen, you might recoil in distaste and astonishment at my secret and our love will be endangered. So I bear my burden in silence and cry silent tears of frustration when you think I am asleep.
What can I do? How can I tell you of my fascination with spanking? My heart and other urges want nothing more than for you to give me a spanking. My mind relishes the thought as I think it. I roll the word spanking around and around in my head playing with the delicious sensations the thought process creates. I form a mental picture of what it would be like to have you put me across your knee. The mere thought brings great pleasure and I hold the image in my mind and enjoy it for as long as I can.
But the image and my mental games are all I am left with. I fear it is not to be. I cannot find the words. What am I to do? I feel so lost. So confused. So scared.
I cry myself to sleep again.