This short story is an entry in the 2001 Soc.Sexuality.Spanking Summer Short Story Contest and is copyright by the author and commercial use is prohibited without permission. Personal/private copies are permitted only if complete including the copyright notice. The author would appreciate your comments
Category: Beginning
Learning to Trust
By
Once upon a time, I was foolish enough to believe that men were evil. It was what I grew up with, too early learned. It was imprinted on my soul like an unwanted tattoo.
Paternal rage, unpredictable hurricanes of torment, ruled my life. Rules were momentary or oppressive, consequences brutal or nonexistant. The belt on bare skin was the chosen form of consequence too often. No forgiveness afterwards, just pain. Not erotic, only something to block out if possible, even when I knew that spanking, in a normal sense, made my body tingle.
The idea that men were bad, not to be trusted, remained even in adulthood. It would take so much to prove otherwise. Challengers were very few and far between, and those proved rather than disproved. Marriage solidified the concept. Being single seemed preferrable at times.
Then it came to pass that spanking became a real part of life, not just fantasy or something not to be remembered. It was finally something to be revelled in, celebrated. Along with spanking came friends, some male. To trust was essential in this new life, for without it there was nothing. But would the belief be erradicated or vindicated.
I wanted to trust, and in the beginning most likely did so too willingly. Even in the new territory of my sexual liberation, hopes were dashed, twice in quick succession. I pushed on though, not willing to give up so easily when so much was at stake. I needed this new way of life, needed a spanked ass and the emotional release that could come with that.
There came a day when I realized that my beliefs were no longer valid. A well-chosen group of male friends had come along, one at a time, showing me each in their own way that men weren't what I had always thought. One in particular showed me what authority was supposed to be, consistent, safe. I trusted and relaxed finally, no longer having to wonder when the trust would be smashed. I knew that it would always be there. No promises had ever been made that weren't kept.
Spankings, real, non-brutal spankings, were given for misbehavior, along with something I'd never had before. Forgiveness, the knowledge that I wasn't the miserable creature I had once been led to believe I was, that I was worthy of that forgiveness, and I could never do something that would make me unworthy. It healed something deep inside, allowing me to own this thing in me, this need to be spanked, whether for punishment or sex. It was mine, and the brutality of the past couldn't take that away from me. Once upon a time, I was foolish enough to believe that men were evil. I'm glad I was wrong.
The End
© Copyright Summer, 2001
Reviews
Mary Catherine <marycatherine(at)saintfrancis-sfg(dot)net>
I could really feel Jen in this story. It had a very autobiographical feel to it throughout. I was able to see her eyes being opened slowly as she learned at everything she believed was not the truth. By the end, I was able to not only see, but understand her acceptance. Very nicely done.
Sarah Nada <circler73(at)hotmail(dot)com>
This brief essay is written straight from the heart, and presents big issues in a way many of us will relate to. I found it quite moving, and am glad to have shared in the journey (if only by reading about it).