Story: Tears of Frustration

Misc Story.  Please read disclaimer (copied from "Raven's Black Tears").

Before I go on, I want to post a disclaimer. So here it goes: The author of this story in NO WAY believes in the NONconsensual spanking of teenagers with psychological problems. If you are a parent or friend and think that someone you know is cutting, don’t spank them, please. As a cutter and friend of many cutters, I know that sometimes this isn’t the right answer. But *sometimes* it is, depending on the situation. I wrote this story because I know there are cutters in this lifestyle who probably would wish this happened to them, or just want to read about a situation they can relate to. And once again I want to say that if anyone needs a friend, you can message me :) Please do not read this story if the idea of cutting bothers you, or if the idea of a consensual spanking of a cutter bothers you. Thanks! And enjoy the story.

Tears of Frustration
by Breanna Carter

I had the music so loud in my car that I feared the speakers might blow. It was necessary, though, to turn the volume up as high as it could. It’d been a horrible day at work and I feared that at any moment, I might decide to cut my wrists to kill the pain that dwelled inside me. I just wished for some kind of escape. That’s why I went to Joel’s house that night...

I pulled into the driveway and most of the lights were off. I saw the tv lit up in the living room, so I decided to knock on the door anyway.

I heard rustling inside then the door cracked open. “Oh, hey!” the voice said, then opened the door wider. It wasn’t Joel, but his roommate, Freddy.

“Hey,” I mumbled back, sniffling a bit to keep myself from crying.

“What’s up? Come on in.” Freddy was a 25 year old guy, a little taller than me who listened to heavy metal and had a goatee and hair in the shape of devil horns. He was so adorable.

“Nothing,” I muttered and walked past him. “Joel’s not home?”

“Nah, not yet, girl. He’s still working.”

I nodded. “Just wanted to see him for a little while.”

“Ohh, okay, I see. You have to work tonight?” He closed the door and offered me to have a seat on the couch.

I sat. “Yeah, and it was hell.”

“What happened?”

I shrugged.

“Ahh, you can tell me,” he said, plopping down next to me.

“I dunno... they’re just all assholes. I was yelled at all night for no reason. It pissed me off.”

He nodded. “I know how you feel. Used to happen to me with my old job and I just said ‘fuck it’ and quit.”

“Heh, I was going to do that tonight, but I need the money.”

“I know what you mean.” It was quiet for a moment.

“I feel shitty.”

“Awww, don’t feel shitty,” he said, patting me on the back. “Before you know it you’ll be in college and then out of college and you can get a real job without people yelling at you.”

I nodded, but it didn’t help. “It sucks, cause when people get pissed at me, I get pissed at myself and want to cut.”

I said that as he was about to take a sip of his beer, but he stopped mid-air and looked at me. “What?!?” he asked, slamming it back down on the table. “What are you talking about?”

I shrugged. “I just feel horrible and cutting’s the only thing that helps out, mostly.”

“No no no... that’s not good. You can’t do that.”

“I can’t help it.”

“Sure you can.”

“I’m so upset.”

“There’s other ways to get out your frustration. Ways that aren’t dangerous. Your cuts could get infected. You could die.”

“I don’t care.”

“Hey now, don’t say that. You do care. We’d all miss you.”

I sniffled again.

He turned my chin to where I was facing him and stared at me with his deep brown eyes. “Is there anything I can do?” he asked.

The way he said it gave me chills... There *was* something he could do, and the look on his face insinuated that he knew exactly what it was. But how could he?

“Well, er,” I muttered, glancing at the tv for a second and then back at him. “I guess so...” It was hard to put into words.. I wanted to be punished for thinking such thoughts, I wanted to be punished for being such a horrible person, and how else could I be punished? But it was weird... how many people actually *ask* someone to give them a spanking?

“What is it, Kate? Just ask me...”

I took a deep breath in and steadied my shaking hands. “A sp-spanking...”

He nodded. “Somehow, I knew that’s what it was,” he said, letting out a soft smile. “I think I could tell from the minute I met you that you were into that kinda stuff. The way you act around... well, nevermind, that’s not the point.”

I smiled uneasily.

“Kate, are you sure you want this?”

“Yeah,” I whispered. “Yeah... I need to be punished for fucking up so much.”

“Hey, don’t talk like that. You don’t fuck up a lot... I should spank you, instead, for being so hard on yourself. I want to take that load off of you, okay? You’re a great kid. A good friend to Joel and I enjoy talking to you. All right?”

“Okay,” I said, voice still hoarse.

“How do you want me to spank you?” he asked.

I shrugged. “I dunno...”

“Yes you do, I can see it in your eyes. Just tell me. You don’t have to be scared.”

It was nearly impossible to not be scared. I’d never been spanked before.

He noticed my hesitation. “Okay, then I’ll just spank yout he way I want. Is that okay?”

I nodded.

“And that’s bare bottom... so if you would, stand up and pull down your pants and panties, then get over my lap.”

I quivered from fear. The thought of baring myself from the waist down in front of Freddy scared me. But I knew what had to be done. I knew that I deserved this punishment.

Thus, I stood and sniffled again, moving my hands to the button of my jeans. I stood there for a minute, unable to do anything. I was too nervous.

“Can you do it?” I whispered.

He let out a soft grin. “Sure,” he answered, and moved my hands away. He unbuttoned my jeans as I sniffled again, looking away so I wouldn’t cry, then I heard the zipper go down and felt a gentle breeze as my pants fell to the floor. He then tugged my panties down, too, to meet my jeans.

I bit my lower lip.

“All right, over my lap,” he ordered while patting his lap.

If I hadn’t been half naked, it’d have probably taken me a few minutes to muster up the courage to lie over his knee, but standing there, feeling the cool breeze on my backside and legs, realizing that he could see my womanhood, I decided to go ahead and get over his lap.

I rested my head on the cushion and lay my hands down next to me. He shifted me a little then rested his hand on my bum.

“You okay?” he whispered.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” I replied, shivering. Whether it from fear or being cold, I have no idea. Probably a little of both.

He rubbed my bottom ever so slightly then lifted it up and brough it crashing down.

“Oooowwww,” I groaned.

“Oh, that’s nothing, Young Lady,” he answered, slapping my backside again, this time on the right cheek. I groaned more. “After this spanking *SMACK!* you will never want to cut yourself again *SMACK!* Right?”

“Owww, yes...”

“Good.” He got some sort of rhythm, but I never really figured out what it was. I thought he’d spank one cheek twice, then the other twice, and he’d screw it all up so I’d never know what to expect. “I can’t believe you want to cut yourself, Kate,” he lectured, spanking inbetween words for emphasis. “You’re a good girl, made good grades in school, you have a good job... how can you see yourself as so inferior?”

“Oooowwwwwwiiiiiessss.. I dunnooo,” I whined, gripping onto the couch cushion.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself. You’re so awesome.” It was weird hearing him say that as he spanked my naked, tender flesh so harshly, concentrating mainly on my sitspots and upper thighs.

“I’m sorry,” I muttered.

“Sorry for what?” he asked, spanking me a little harder.

I tried to think about it, but I could only concentrate on the pain being inflicted onto my body. “I dunnoooo,” I wailed.

“Not a good enough answer, Kate,” he replied, spanking even harder.

“Ahhhooowwwwwwww,” I yelped, squeezing the cushion more and trying not to kick fiercely.

“What are you sorry about, Kate?”

“I’m sorry for hating myself and wanting to cut!”

“I see.” He kept spanking me though, a few times on the cheeks, then back down to the sit spots and thighs. “You’re worth more than that, okay? Those people at work who piss you off, they’re not worth the skin you waste while cutting, okay?”

“Okayyyyy...” And that’s when the first tear fell. I don’t know why it fell, but it did. A gentle tear, sliding down my cheek and cleansing my face. And then another fell, and another, and next thing I knew, I was bawling like a baby and it felt so great. All that anger and frustration that had been built inside of me was finally being released and even though my bottom throbbed like crazy, it felt good in a way.

That’s when Freddy gave me the final three swats and rubbed my bottom a little, then lifted me up and cradled me in his arms. He rubbed my back as he hugged me, saying, “shhhh, little one, it’s okay, baby.” But I just kept on crying, lost in these tears, lost in his embrace. I felt all these feelings of love swim over me. I realized just how much my friends and family loved me... and how much it would hurt them if I mutilated my body. I realized how much Freddy loved me... showing me the appropriate way to deal with my anger, by crying it out, or talking to someone, or even being spanked to tears. And this realization made me cry even more.

“I’m sorry, Freddy,” I said through tears. “I won’t cut anymore, ever again!” I promised.

He just kept holding me and rocked me back and forth. “I know, baby, I know.”

And from that day on, when I had a hard day at work, I visited Freddy, and never again did I want to do anything stupid.