‘It’s Not Always What You Think’ : Original Spanking Stories



Readers, enjoy ‘It’s Not Always What You Think’ – an excellent entry to the ‘My Birthday Spanking’ story contest. I think you’ll like the *slant* as much as I did.


– Dana

*****
It’s Not Always What You Think

“Tonight is going to be it,” I thought excitedly, looking at my friends around the table “my very first spanking!” My wonderful collection of friends were joyful, laughing and talking like the eccentric, motley crew they were, gathered to celebrate my birthday with me. The seat next to me was empty, awaiting Michael, my wonderful new beau. Soon he would arrive, the party would wind down, and then he would take me home for my first real spanking. We’d been flirting about this for weeks now, the slow delicious build up of an incipient relationship. I was finally becoming comfortable with what I wanted from a man, after years and years of embarrassment and denial. For as long as I could remember, I’d longed for a man to take control of me, to put me over his knee and let me know I was safe and accountable. Tonight was the night!
Part of what had drawn me to Michael was his aura of sexual knowledge and mastery. When we’d started talking, he’d known SO MUCH! My head spun with each new detail. Doms, subs, spanking techniques, exquisite torture… he teased me with the promise of future experiences, then taught me submission by making me wait.  Tonight, my birthday, I was so overwhelmed with expectation and longing, I could barely sit still in my chair.
The evening was almost over but Michael still hadn’t arrived. He’d done this before and each time I was more on edge. He was later than usual tonight. As the party trudged on, and I grew more and more brittle inside, my best friend Donna poked me in the side.
“Stop that! Quit looking at the door. Be present.” Donna and her girlfriend Helen were my inner circle. Donna was my roommate in college. We’d been sister/friends ever since. When Helen came along, and she was just so damned perfect for Donna, there was nothing I could do but add her to my short list of people I love. Donna and Helen have had my back, and I theirs for so many years it’s second nature. When I finally blurted out, in an unguarded, drunken moment during a teary heart-to-heart, what I REALLY wanted from a man, after years of unsuccessful dating, Donna had taken it more in stride than I had, and became my “go to” person for fetish knowledge. Now, as the dinner wound down to a close, she slipped an envelope into my hand. “Open this at home, and use it as you see fit. You won’t be disappointed.”
Just as she did, the waitress wove her way between the tight tables to come to my side. “You just got a message on the landline. Michael Oscar says he’s been calling your cell but isn’t getting through. He’s not going to be able to make it.” She smiled companionably. “I guess he’s too caught up with his New Girl to make it out for ‘just friends’.
The world took an ugly jolt. “I beg your pardon?” I felt lightheaded but strangely calm. I’d never seen this girl before. She couldn’t possibly know my boyfriend. She balanced on her toes, holding her drink tray to her chest. “Michael Oscar, who works IT at the lab, right? He’s seeing one of the waitresses over at Dirty Dogs’. I hear they’re into some wild stuff, those two. And a weekend night off is a rare thing in waitress-world. It’s usually only Mondays.” She winked. “You know, we hear everything on the waitress- grapevine.” Her message delivered, she spun away, easing through the tables like a dancer.
I sat still, frozen but frantic, and reviewed everything I thought I knew. Michael had never taken me to Dirty Dogs’. He said he couldn’t stand the atmosphere. He was never available on Mondays, and in fact, usually saw me at the last moment, and at home, or a local neighborhood bistro. I had once commented that we could venture out in public more, but he had said he knew I was an introvert, and he preferred our quiet time together. As I thought it all through in my head, the many, tiny red flags I’d ignored coalesced into one giant “You Big Dummy” flag. My heart felt as if it would burst onto the floor right then and there, but of course, Donna and Helen didn’t let it happen. Donna bustled me up, gracefully ending the party. She and Helen got me home, and nestled into bed surrounded by my shiny, new presents. She set my card against the bedside lamp, made me a cup of tea, started a favorite mushy movie on the DVD player, kissed me on the top of my head and left me to my thoughts. 
After a good hard, cry, I checked my cell for messages (none from him, but who was looking anyway), then opened my card from Donna and Helen. Inside was a beautifully designed gift certificate for one session with the “Divine Dana Kane.” Across the bottom was a web address. On the back was a handwritten note “Here’s hoping your experiences live up to your highest expectations. We’re sure this one will. Much love, Donna & Helen.” 
Curious, and desperate not to think about Michael and the huge tornado that was slowly forming in my chest, I pulled my laptop off the bedside table. Her site came up quickly. I spent the next few hours poring over every single page. Some sent chills through me. Some made me so hot I had to get up to walk around. But the sum of the many parts left every nerve ending in my body awake and tingly. Even more, I suddenly had a whole host of possibilities buzzing around in my head.
Sunday, when Michael called, I was relieved to hear from him. But now I was listening with, as my second grade teacher used to say “my big girl ears on.”  He was so sorry to have missed my dinner. (Uh huh.) He had to work late on Monday so Monday wouldn’t be good. (Right, makes sense.) We could meet for lunch on Wednesday. (Not good for me. In the past I would have changed my plans. Not now, however.) He owed me a birthday present, he teased, and he would do whatever I wanted. What. ever. I. wanted, he emphasized. I played up how incredibly busy I would be at work this week. The less available I seemed, the more anxious to get together Michael became. Interesting.  His hardcore flirting still made my knees weak, but I found I was sifting it for content, and finding it thin. Michael, I realized, was a disappointer, a flirt who flirted until he thought he’d caught you, then slowly backed away.
At his insistence we met for coffee before work Thursday morning, but by then I had watched he and his new flirt-ette as they left the Dirty Dog together after her shift on Tuesday. I could tell by his body language that he was playing her too. Good to know. We made a date to get together for lunch on Saturday. And I set to work on my plans.
Saturday was a lovely day. I wore a particularly fetching outfit, a low cut corset-style blouse and a soft, flowing skirt over boots. I’m not the woman your eye goes to immediately but I can look good, and I did. Michael was particularly complimentary, and began hinting about “making up for lost time” after we ran the few errands I needed to do before lunch. He hated that I wanted to take my car but I reasoned that one of my errands was to pick up a car part. Better to have it than not. Our first errand was for my dry cleaning.  The second was to a lovely house, in a well-to-do neighborhood. 
“Good morning,” I said to the imposing woman who answered the door. She let us in with an impersonal air, looked us over and led us into a parlor that obviously served as a waiting room of sorts. Michael paced around curiously. I sat demurely in a chair, watching him evaluate.
“Nice place,” he said grudgingly. “What are we doing here?”
“It’s the birthday present you owe me” I said “and a going away present of sorts.” I tried to keep the triumph out of my voice. A door opened down the hall and I could hear the fast rat-a-tat of high heels heading firmly toward us. “This should be quick and painless” I smiled to him “at least for me. Michael, I’d like you to meet Ms. Dana Kane. You’ll do exactly as she says.”
As he followed her down the hall, as I gathered up my car keys and headed for the door, I thought of him finding his way home later with what Ms. Kane promised would be a very sore bottom, and of the video she’d promised to send me. It was a very good birthday spanking indeed.

Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.

2 Replies to “‘It’s Not Always What You Think’ : Original Spanking Stories”

  1. A delightful story with an very ‘firming’ theme, as all the stories on your wonderful blog have!

    I loved it – I love everything about you, Mistress Kane; thank you, just for being you. I know I shall never meet you but I feel so comfortable reading your blog, it’s almost as if we were friends – if that’s not being too presumptuous, Ma’am.

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