I have written around this for about a year but this is what I want to write. So, I dared myself. I have dared myself to write this just as it is in my head. I am writing this introduction after writing the rest of it because I had to just sit down and let my fingers tell the story, while all the time I have promised myself that I will edit out the most personal bits later.
But now that I have written it, I do not think I shall edit it. For once, I am writing this for no one else because the thought of someone reading it would make me a hermit. But if someone did read it, it would have to be a girl (or someone who likes men) and what I would suggest is that she think of two of the most delectable men in the world. For me those are Himself and a famous film star who is no longer around but was as sexy and heart stoppingly masculine as they come.
XX
I am half naked. My top is on and my skirt flipped up. My arms are straight down in front of me and holding me steady. My bottom is raised high on the curved, padded back of a sofa, my feet do not reach the floor. I have been here for some time.
I wriggle as much as I can but his hand reaches down onto my back and steadies me. He stands behind me and I hear him speak, though not a word is to me. His hand is retaliatory but the crime I committed is unimportant now. His hand is persistent as a metronome, steady as time, but he is expert. There is no descent into counting, there is nothing predictable. He is watching me closing, and spreading each impact to an unexpected part of my bum and the tops of my thighs. It burns so much and feel so exposed that I don’t care what he is saying or whom he talks to. Except this is a lie and I care very much. I am shy and I want him to hold me. I want to hide. I am ashamed and embarrassed.
His tone is relaxed. He knows just what he is doing to me and is content with the effect it is having. I have stopped caring what he can see and am trying to move from side to side to release myself, though my impotent effort is ignored. I hear myself shriek and call out. I think I am the only one listening to me. They continue to talk, sometimes remarks about me and my reactions, sometimes about other plans, sometimes about nothing in particular.
There is a pause, my heart lifts but I hear a belt unbuckle and I say “No” and try to raise myself up, but I am pushed down back into place. I hear the dreadful sound before I feel it. It is just a moment but it is enough time to make me scared, the curve and the lash and the snap all roll one into the next as stripes go across my bum, making a repetitive and forcerful music. I am aware that I am the only one in the room whose heart beat is raised. I am the one who is shaking. My hair hangs down in front of my face, and my mouth moves in silent and less silent protest.
Behind me he is interested and observant. He is showing the other what it is that I do, how I react, and when I think he cannot do anymore, he says, “Do you want to see her come?”
I am silent in an instant, hoping to disappear and escape. The belt is dropped. I hear a zip and then he places a hand on my hip and guides himself inside me. I hear myself take a breath in and out with a loud, shaking sigh and I know that is a sign that he is more than welcome, as is the ease with which he placed himself deep into me.
He holds me, hands on my hips, and rocks hard into me. It does not hurt, not at all. It feels so perfect, I feel so chosen, punished and cared for that all I can do is open my eyes for the first time, I see the man in front of me, he is wearing a thick, brown leather belt. His fingers rest on it, like a promise. I shudder and come.
XXX
Now go away. I do not want to talk about this. I am shy. I do not think it will rain today. The sky is a pleasant blue although it is quite chilly.
You kept me on the edge once again, Poppy. Beautifully written.
The weather has been lovely today. The sky was blue and there was a cool breeze in the morning. It felt more like summer than autumn. A nice change. It’s nearly 6pm but it’s still very sunny and bright.
I love hearing about your day. I understand about the different seasons but it still amazes me that you are doing into a different season, the opposite one to us.
I hope you a lovely night.
How beautiful to read, even, if not especially, for a man who loves girls. Makes the sunny day over here even more spring-announcing.
Poppy, good morning.
and warm 
Heartrendingly beautiful, and very brave.
You always manage to hit me where I live, well done.
Have a good day.
Paul.
Poppy, If only one day I could find a girl as wonderful as you
Bisous xxx Cruel
I think you just may have been in my head. Or quite the same men have visited me in my fantasies the only difference being himself is my himself. To be the subject of demonstration goes back to my earliest childhood fantasies. Lovely.
Wow! What a way to wake up. Your writing has me right there with you. I have to admit, I’ve had similar thoughts.
OK, the sun is breaking through, it was raining
and 
yesterday.
Beautiful, Poppy. You tease out the strands of all that girls like us try to keep secret, and weave them into a moment fraught with sensuality and a kind of masculine sorcery. Let us just pretend that it is not us; it is them. They bewitch us with their belts and their deep voices and their strong hands. We find ourselves, head down, unable to resist their incantations.
They blend us right inside their conjuration. What else can we do but submit?
It is cold and blustery here today. There are patches of snow left, but yesterday’s torrential rains washed much of it away. Now there is room for the snowdrops to begin to lift their delicate heads. I am looking for them, me and my dogs. I will tell you when I find my first one. That’s another thing that makes me breathless.
Wonderful Poppy, you always write so beautifully. Thank you.
Isn’t it lovely to see the sky so blue? I can actually feel some warmth in the sun today, summer is on the way
Love,
Ronnie
xx
Scarlet,
This comment is such a
You give the girls point of view.
For me Poppy weaves a somewhat different tapestry.
This is almost a perfect picture of a loving and needed submission.
She may be pouting, muttering and even struggling a little, but she is exactly where she wants to be.
I hope that you find your snowdrops and that Spring comes very soon for you.
& 
I don’t comment much at the other place, but I find you and the others hugely entertaining.
And I agree there is a sort of magic in TTWD.
Warm
Paul.
Paul, you are right, too. It is a loving and needed submission, isn’t it? Shh, don’t tell.
I love what you bring to us with your words; I learn so much from reading what you say. I am glad you are keeping up with our fun at the other place, too. If we are amusing you, then I am happy.
It’s a little chilly here today. That was beautiful, Poppy. Hopefully that nice weather comes back soon. You’re so brave. I hate switching from heat to air every other day.
xoxox
I am so amazed by all this. I am trying to push myself to write things that are more difficult for me and what stuns me is that every time I push myself I get rewarded by the most fantastic and kind comments by people. It makes me want to do this more, it makes me want to write more. I do not know if I am a good writer, I hope I am learning to be one but I know that I am blessed with great readers.
Mr J, I did not know if a man would like this sort of thing. I do not know if this kind of imagining would fit into what a man likes but I am glad that you found it beautiful.
Paul, I am thrilled that this hit you were you live. I really do not understand men at all but I like that. You surprised me and that made me smile.
Cruel, I have been reading these comments at work and when I read yours a work mate asked me what on earth had made me so happy. I did not tell them about your comment.
Girl, and that is an unexpected joy of writing. I thought it was to help other people less alone but I am finding I am making myself feel less alone.
Kaki! You too!! The world is a wonderful place. I hope your weather is better.
Scarlet, when you say things like that about me I want to put it on a tee-shirt or a badge and say, “That comment – it is about me!” I will keep reading it and grinning.
Ronnie, not at all, thank you. I had heard there may be snow coming but I doubt it, there are snow drops here. They make me as excited as they make Scarlet.
C, thank you so much and the weather is what it is. I am so glad that Americans speak the language of weather.
Poppy, I recognize when I read my own posts that I don’t write in a way that makes it easy for people to comment.
That is not an issue with you writing. You should not be stunned by the adulation. You are a fantastic writer I am going to miss reading your posts as I have every day since finding you. The nice thing is when I return I will have four weeks of posts to read and wont have to wait for a new one each day
Bisous Cruel
I will miss you and I hope you have a wonderful time. I am still blown away by what you write.
Poppy, what a lovely fantasy.
Thank you, Nikolai.
Poppy, what is it about the dichotomy between being shown off (implying value and pride) and quiet disregard that makes the combination such a potent fantasy?
I can now tell you that the weather is dark and grey and generally gloomy and I wish I had stayed in bed where it was warm and cozy and there were kitties purring in my ear.
Poppy is a very good writer and I love her. We never get snowdrops in Floridia.
Last year it snowed in May ……. I think we get all yours
Bogart? The ending of Casablanca? I stopped at the warning…
Thank you Poppy
Indeed.
Em, “Poppy, what is it about the dichotomy between being shown off (implying value and pride) and quiet disregard that makes the combination such a potent fantasy?” – that makes me want to write more and more and more. Perfectly put. That was a perfect sentence.
Dev, I have the best teacher in the world and I am madly in love with him. I will send you a picture of snowdrops.
Wordsmith, a very wonderful idea, it is a question of stopping at the right time.
Annie, thank you for reading.
I would be very happy, indeed, to inspire you to write more and more and more
Poppy, the snowdrops appeared in my garden today! They are a miracle. They were not there yesterday, and today, they were. Life goes on, the world turns, the sun comes back. I am so filled with gratitude for spring that I hug everyone, wherever I go.
Em, you said that perfectly. Poppy, keep writing. You are so in the minds and hearts of girls like us. I do not know what makes us this way, and I do not care. But you have a special way of opening a door into a secret spot. And it never fails to amaze me how your secrets and mine are so much the same.
This got Chrossed! Congrats, Poppy!
I knew this one would be Chrossed!!
Congratulations! It is much deserved.
P.S. I tried a different tile with the logo so look and see what you think. I am conflicted over which I like better
Mindy and Arianna, thank you! I am thrilled.
I did really hope that if I were Chrossed this week that it would be for this one.
I really think I like the second one better. Would it work with my theme? Because it looks amazing. You are so talented.
Congratulations, Poppy! So many people can relate to what you write!
Well done indeed, little girl.
Oh – gulp – my.
I’ve no idea what the weather is like.
Sweetsong, gosh. You find the rudest posts to read. I have no idea where this one came from.
As I said, delving around in a girl’s bottom drawer throws up all sorts of delights!