The day after Frolicon ended, Wendy sent me a beautiful thank you note for the bedtime spanking I gave her on Saturday night. With her permission, I am sharing it with you here:

During my spanking from you on Saturday, I felt little, vulnerable, and safe. You helped me to feel as though everything that happened was inevitable because I was a little girl who was going over your knee for a thorough spanking and while you were clear that it was going to hurt a lot, your words, presence, and behavior all assured me I would not come to harm. Thank you for all of that. It was a powerful and meaningful gift and I am extremely grateful.

This feeling began building well before 9pm, from the first time we spoke the day before when you demonstrated the spanko mindset around bedtime spankings by saying you felt they were more suited to primarily the hand, to when we spoke at your table earlier that afternoon and during the text conversation, where you were asking questions for negotiation, but in a manner that signaled the inevitability, beginning with your question of “will you be getting spanked on your bare bottom or will you want to wear underwear?”

Reading this question caused my stomach to swoop in anticipation because even though I understood the intent was negotiation, it emphasized the important fact that even as you respected my boundaries I would be getting spanked.

There was never a doubt in my mind regarding safewords and consent, I knew I still held the ability to stop things if it got to be too much, but over all of that, you helped build the fragile webbing of the role play and then cemented it into place.

When you came to my room, your manner was careful and gentle, but still with that same underlying inevitability. I was scrubbed and bathed, teeth brushed, in pajamas. Not even really nice pajamas or ones I might have selected if I’d really planned for things, which was good because that meant they were every day, ordinary pajamas, suitable for my mindset and the scenario.

You worked right into that when you handed me the M&Ms and said they were “for morning” because my teeth were already brushed, helping me sink more into the headspace. Then when I went over your knee, you used a voice that I described to my partner later as a “daddy” voice, gentle yet unyielding. You would not harm me, but a spanking had been decided upon, and it was happening, and it would hurt as much as it needed to hurt to make the point.

Your questions and the gentle patter of phrases helped too, the sharp swat and “what was that?” when I answered “yes” instead of “yes, sir”, the constant reminders that the spanking was maintenance to help me remember to be good, the 10 punishment swats to help me realize that yes, I wanted to be good and avoid more of those.

All of those things helped drive me to a place where eventually I wasn’t just role playing, I was, for a brief period of time, actually a little girl getting a thorough and hard spanking, which was going to go on for as long as you thought it needed to. I squirmed and twisted, but your grip held fast. You even told me at one point that you would continue until you decided I was done. I could do nothing but squirm and take my spanking, let it drive into me the reminder to be good, feel my bottom and thighs catching fire, knowing it would only finish when you decided.

It hurt, it hurt a lot. Not just the punishment swats, but the paddle on my bottom, those hard and fast swats with your hand up and down my thighs, all of it building and making my bottom sore, so sore it has lasted for days. But I didn’t feel in danger of being harmed, I was never scared.

I was simply a little girl who occasionally needs a thorough and hard spanking and was getting exactly what I needed, delivered as I needed it, with no power to do anything but be little and get spanked. I was being taken care of, I was safe, it was okay to be myself for that period of time, to be little and get spanked, because you were in charge and taking care of me.

And when you decided it was enough, you tucked me into bed and turned the light out and I was a little girl with a sore bottom, able to hear the people playing out in the hall, knowing that while they played I’d been spanked and tucked into bed because I was little and I’d been given exactly what I needed.

This was a wonderful gift you gave me and I am grateful. Thank you for posting your wish to do a bedtime spanking and being available to talk with me and set this up. Thank you for spanking me, for being gentle and kind and inevitable once we got the ball rolling, for allowing me this moment. I enjoyed it and I am looking forward to seeing you again in a month at SELF.

This note encapsulates pretty much everything I love about a bedtime spanking. I can’t wait to give another one, whether it’s Wendy’s bottom receiving it or someone else’s.