Story: Raven's Black Tears

Misc story.  Involves self-injury.  Please read the disclaimer below.


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 group 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.

Raven's Black Tears
by Breanna Carter

There was a pounding on the door of my apartment. My parents were gone and I wasn’t expecting anyone, so I was hesitant to answer it.. that is, until I looked out the peephole and saw my best friend, Raven, standing there, arms folded and black makeup smeared around her eyes. I hurridly opened the door in a panic. Oh no, I thought... what had happened?

We were both sixteen and had known each other since junior high. We were both the psycho outcasts, but while she was thin and pale, dressing herself in baggy black jeans and black mesh long-sleeved shirts with long black hair and black makeup, I was chunky and wore baggy jeans and T-shirts, no makeup. She was the stereotypical goth girl, and I the stereotypical grunge girl.

“What is it?” I asked, pulling her inside.

She was still crying, black tears streaming down her pale cheeks. I couldn’t stand to see her blue eyes mixed with red. “Everything,” she mumbled, crumbling into my arms.

I held her there, letting her sob in my embrace as I stroked her hair gently and tried to talk to her in a soothing voice, trying to tell her that everything was going to be okay, even if I didn’t believe it myself.

I don’t know how long we stood there, but she finally let go and wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her long sleeved shirt. I noticed that she was holding the sleeve down with her hand and immediately knew what happened. That’s when I turned from a worried to angry... or not so much angry, but just hurt.

“Raven!” I yelled, slamming the door shut.

She jumped. “I’m sorry!” she blubbered, still sniffling.

“Lift up your sleeve,” I ordered.

She shook her head, sniffling, keeping a firm hold on the shirt to make sure it covered her wrists.

“I’m going to give you to the count of three, Young Lady,” I warned, casting her an evil glare.

She sniffled again. “Please, Jamie...” she begged. “I had to do it.”

“You don’t *have* to do anything. I know things can be hard sometimes, but there are other ways to take out your frustrations than cutting yourself!”

“I’m sorry... it was an impulsive reaction.”

“And you know what my impulsive reaction is..”

“Nooo... come on... please. I’m sorry.”

I shook my head at her. “You were sorry *last* time, and the time before that, and the time before that. This cutting has to stop!”

“I know, I know... but..”

“Listen, you asked me to help you out with this problem, and I know that’s why you’re here... and I’m not going to back down on my word. And anyway, I’ve told you thousands of times that there are better ways to deal with your stress... you can call me and we can go running, or you can do situps, or even sleep! Anything but cutting!”

“I... I know.. but I wasn’t thinking about that... It just hurt so much.”

I sighed closing my eyes and rubbing my temples, trying to think. I took a deep breath in to steady my shakey hands. Oh, I knew so well how she felt... I had my own scars to prove it. Being sixteen could be so hard... with parents always in your hair and siblings never leaving you alone and the stress of stupid schoolwork... Oh yes, I knew so well. But we had an agreement... anytime either of us cut ourselves, the other would spank her. And I knew I had to do it, no matter how much it hurt me.

I opened my eyes. “I know it hurts, Raven..” I muttered, seeing her slumped down on the couch showing really poor posture, part of that self-esteem problem that we shared. “But we have to build each other up... we’re going to be happy one day, okay? But you can’t cut yourself. We had an agreement... I have to spank you,” I said, trying to be the stronger one.

She nodded slightly. “I’m such a fuckup,” she exclaimed.

“Noooo, you’re not,” I argued. “And if you ever say that again, I’m going to get my dad’s belt.”

She wiped her eyes again, still sniffling.

“Let me see the cuts, Raven.”

She looked at me with that tear-stained face and nearly broke my heart. Hesitantly, she lifted the sleeve, rolling it all the way up her forearm. Yes, I was a cutter, but I still nearly passed out when I saw the damage done to her arm. I fell to my knees, burying my face in my hands, trying to supress the tears.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

I tried to breathe, tried to tell myself that she was okay, that she hadn’t hurt herself too badly, but the image of those wounds kept passing through my head. I took her hands in mine and pictured her sitting in the corner alone, weeping like a small child and slashing herself with a tiny razorblade... and I let the tears silently stream down my face, some of them falling into my hands, some falling into hers.

“I didn’t want to hurt you this much,” she said, again in a whisper, and I could tell that she was crying as well.

“I care about you so much,” I whispered back, not knowing if she could hear me or not. And we stayed that way for a couple of minutes until I could regain myself and do my duty as best friend... even if I didn’t want to do it. I looked up into her eyes, now having glossy eyes of my own to share with hers. “Raven, you can’t do this to yourself. It’s no good,” I said.

She nodded softly, a black tear trickling down her cheek.

I stood shakily and wiped my eyes. I’d only spanked my best friend once before, and she’d spanked me three times before. I knew exactly what she’d have done to me had I cut myself that badly, and knew that’s what she was expecting of me. It was hard trying to be the strong one.

I kissed her forehead. “Okay, baby. Go get my hairbrush. It’s in my room on the dresser.”

She gulped. “B-but... Jamie..” she whispered. “I--”

I cut her off. “Now, young lady.”

She stood from the couch and ambled towards my bedroom. My hands were freezing because I was so nervous. I sat down on the couch and closed my eyes, remembering how my Mexican friends always said “take it easy” in such a way that would calm me down. That’s what I was trying to do, take it easy. It was hard to breathe, but with each deep breath I took, my heart stopped pounding so wildly, and by the time Raven appeared in front of me, plastic hairbrush in hand, I was calm enough to do my duty.

“Okay,” I said, retrieving the hairbrush from her. I sat up straight on the couch. “Pants down, over my lap,” I ordered.

She nodded slowly and whimpered, but did as told. Seconds later, my best friend was over my lap in only a shirt and a pair of black silky panties, with her pants around her ankles. I positioned her as best as I could and placed my cold hand on her bottom. I could feel her body quiver slightly.

“Raven, baby, I love you,” I said. “But you have to stop hurting yourself, okay?”

“Okay.”

“I know how much stuff hurts sometimes, but you have to be strong. And if you really want pain to take your mind off of it, you can call me, okay? This is much safer than cutting... no infections... you can’t die from me spanking you.”

She nodded again, and I could tell she was very uneasy.

I wanted to let the lesson sink in, though, and I thought she could possibly benefit from lying over my lap as long as possible, so I lectured some more. “Cutting is very dangerous,” I told her, as if she didn’t know. “And not only is it dangerous, but if your parents found out, then you’d be sent to the crazy house, and no friend of mine is going to the crazy house, right?”

She nodded again.

I lifted my hand up and popped her panty-clad bottom, causing her to squeal a bit. But this was just the beginning.

“You are not to cut yourself, ever, do you hear me?”

“Yes,” she groaned.

I lifted my hand and popped her backside again, this time on the other cheek.

“What will you do next time instead of cutting yourself?” I asked.

“I’ll call you or go running around outside.”

“Good,” I answered, then tugged her panties down to mid-thigh.

She groaned upon me doing so, but I interrupted that groan by smacking her bottom, this time with a little more emphasis than the times before, so I could make sure she knew I meant business.

“Ahhhoww.. that hurt, Jamie..” she whined.

“*That* hurt? Wait til I use this hairbrush..” I answered, then smacked again, and again, and again, covering her tiny bottom and the sit-spots. She squirmed and squealed after each smack, but I didn’t let up any. In fact, I spanked harder as time went on, leaving pink splotches on her burning rear. But I was far from over.

“Jamie... pleaseee.. I’ve learned my lesson,” she begged, and I noticed her gripping onto the couch cushion.

“And what lesson is that?” I asked, still spanking, this time concentrating only on sit-spots and thighs.

“Oooooowwwwwww... not to cut!” she yelped

“It’s not a matter of cutting,” I explained, not letting up on the spanking, even though my hand was beginning to hurt and I was ready to use the hairbrush. It wasn’t time yet... I had to make sure the spanking was thorough and she wouldn’t forget it for a while. “It’s a matter of dealing with things better... and letting go.” I kept the rhythm up. “Stuff is hard, I know, but you’re stronger than that. And you gotta stop letting little things bother you so much. Just let go...” I had no idea if she knew what I was talking about or not. “And letting go is a lot easier than cutting it away,” I added, landing two really hard smacks to her sit spots then resting it on her bottom. I can say this much -- my hand wasn’t cold anymore.

I felt the warmth in her bottom with my left hand... yes, it had been a good enough warm up... I could tell by the redness in her backside and the warmth I felt while touching it.

I reached for the oval hairbrush that sat on the coffee table and looked at her. She was still gripping onto the couch cushion and I noticed her biting her lower lip. She was crying slightly.

I rested the hairbrush on her bottom. “Oh Raven... you’re so much stronger than that... you’ve been through hell and back... you can handle it. You don’t need a razorblade to help you get through everything.”

“I know,” she whimpered.

I lifted up the hairbrush and crashed it down on the middle of her red bottom.

“Ahhhhhhhooooowwwwiiiieeee!” she yelped, letting go of the cushion to try and protect her poor bottom.

“Nu huh,” I said. “Hands away.”

She moved them back to the cushion. “But that hurt!” she squealed.

“Good. And you’ll think about this next time you think about cutting? And by the way, I want your razorblade. I don’t know where the hell you got it, but we’re going to get rid of it, understand?” I asked then let her have another hard smack in the very same spot.

“Oooooowwwwwwww!” she howled. “Okayyy.”

“Good girl,” I said, then finished my work with the hairbrush. I lifted it and smacked it, increasing speed and strength as the spanking continued, making sure that I covered every area that needed to be covered, including her sitspots and thighs. I noticed her squirming increase with the more spanks that rained down on her now very red bottom, and then the struggles died down and her sobs increased, and I knew she’d had enough. I dropped the brush down on the couch and scooped my poor friend into my arms, being careful not to touch her throbbing bottom.

She was wailing apologies as she lay there, face buried into my chest. I just stroked her hair and rocked her back and forth like a baby, holding her tightly then singing to her in a soft voice.

We stayed like that all night, she falling asleep in my arms. I had to wake her about nine because my father would be home soon, and I knew he’d be frightened if he saw my half-naked best friend lying in my arms like that. I kissed her forehead gently and patted her bottom, then gave her one final hug. “No more cutting,” I ordered as she handed me a tiny razorblade that she had in her pocket.

“No more,” she replied.

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.