Day two at the Texas All-State Spanking Party was quiet for me. Or at least my version of quiet. I’d gotten out all the first-day jitters. I’m an extrovert. Love meeting and talking to people. But even I start a party weekend with a mix of excitement and nerves.

Whenever I go to these events, I try to attend as many classes as I can. Even as a former Pro Dom and sub, there’s always a lot to learn. The Guy and I were originally supposed to meet in class, but he opted to sleep in a little longer. The previous day, we’d agreed to share notes, but it looked like the note-taking would all be on me. His loss, the classes were so good that no amount of notes could make up for the in-person demonstrations! Side note, if you ever have a chance to attend a class taught by James Johnson and Korey Mae Johnson of Stormy Night Publications - do not miss it! You can thank me later. 

I had to duck out early because I’d signed up to help set up the dungeon and sent him a photo of myself bent over a spanking bench I had just finished assembling. I was in yoga pants, fully in position, and feeling cute about it.

HE REPLIED IMMEDIATELY:

Emergency spanking required.

We met in his room that afternoon. He greeted me with a smile and invited me in. He always seemed so relaxed. The epitome of chill. Still, my mind did its usual thing, where I let the most anxiety-inducing thoughts come and go. Things like, oh my god, what if I fart while over this man’s knee? The trick is to acknowledge it and let it go. (The thought. If you fart, I have no advice except things happen.)

We’d both done this at least a couple of dozen times before. There was nothing to worry about. We didn’t have much to discuss because this was just going to be something playful. Boundaries are already set.

He bent me over the bed. Yoga pants stayed on at first. He started with a heavier hand than I expected. I liked how harsh he could be, even when he was playing nice. 

I felt every strike. 

Then he pulled my pants down. I don’t think I’ll ever get over how embarrassing and vulnerable that feels. Every single time. Once my pants were around my knees, he continued with the same rhythm and intensity but with that fresh new sting of skin on skin. It was that quiet kind of authority that gets under your skin in the best way. It was short but it didn’t need to be long. I pulled up my pants and he pulled me into bed for a cuddle. A top who appreciates aftercare always gets a gold star in my book.

I couldn’t stay long. I needed to get ready for dinner. On my way out I told him I’d text when I was heading over. These parties feel like being back in high school. We’d been in touch all day. I figured we’d sit together at dinner too.

This is where things went a little sideways for me.

I walked in and saw him sitting at another table with friends. I assumed he’d gotten my message and ignored it. I didn’t check my phone. I just sat down, started eating, and let the jealousy simmer. I stole a few glances at him. He didn’t look over but I felt it. That little pit in my stomach that says, you’re not the one he wants tonight.

Jealousy is my default setting. I work hard to disable it. It’s tied up in my own insecurities about self-worth and it turns into a vicious cycle. I convince myself I’m not enough and then jealousy steps in like a security guard with too much power and no supervisor.

What I didn’t realize was that he was glancing at me too. Possibly more embarrassing than shaking my ass in the corner was sitting there absolutely stuffing my face with food  in an invisible rage while convinced he was nonconsensually punishing me with indifference, or so I thought. 

I finally opened my phone.

There it was.

My text to him is still in drafts.

While I was seething, he was probably just thinking, oh, she’s at that table. Meanwhile, I was deep in a monologue about rejection and abandonment while shoveling fries into my mouth.

After dinner, I went back to my room alone. I had planned to go out, maybe wander back to the dungeon, but after the emotional roller coaster I’d put myself through at dinner, I was done. Bed immediately. 

When I woke up the next morning, I saw a text he’d sent about twenty minutes after I’d fallen asleep. What are you up to? It seemed like we both wanted more time together, but my body had other plans.

I texted him back and explained I’d fallen asleep early but wanted to hear about his night. He told me about his scenes, the people he played with, and the things he enjoyed. I was genuinely happy for him, but under the happiness, something else was growing.

It wasn’t the wild lash-out kind of jealousy. It was quieter. The kind that bubbles up when you want to be chosen. I didn’t mind that he played with other people. Normally, I’d be excited to hear my friends’ adventures. But this time felt different. I wanted to be the one he marked the most. The one he came back to.

I didn’t just want more spanking. I wanted more of him.

Stay tuned for Day 3...