DarkSteven
Posts: 28072
Joined: 5/2/2008
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Note: Writings posted here are supposed to be fiction. I'm posting nonfiction. Sue me.
I'll call her Dee. We'd chatted online a bit for a while. She was a spanko, and we discussed that and local spanking parties, as well as other, vanilla topics. I encouraged her to come to some events and she actually came to one party but she played with someone else, who left her "spanked out" so we didn't play. I had run across her in vanilla-land at a grocery store and we chatted carefully and mostly-vanilla and exchanged phone numbers.
I had called her up and invited her over for dinner. She told me that she didn't have time for dinner but wanted to come by and simply chat, so I gave her my address. Even though there was an understanding that I would spank her, there wasn't enough time for that that day.
We chatted about this and that and I showed her the hives in the back yard (through a window - she did not share my enthusiasm for bees) and a bit of the house. We talked about her health and she described symptoms of some neural issues. She thought they might be due to diabetes...
The clear way to get an engineer's attention is to describe a possible problem that he can fix. I asked if she'd ever been tested for diabetes. She said no, and I asked if she wanted her blood sugar taken. She was, to understate, not really eager, so I brought out the meter, test strips, and little pricky thingy. I told her truthfully that I needed to check my own levels as well. I inserted a new sharp into the pricky thingy, put a strip in the meter, and pricked my finger quickly and easily. I squeezed blood out of my finger and pushed a test strip onto the blood drop. The reading was 145 - technically too high but not enough to be a real concern to me. She, seeing how easy it had been for me, took a deep breath and told me I could take her reading as well, and held out a finger. I replaced the strip in the meter, put in a new sharp and pricked her finger pretty much painlessly. I squeezed her finger, pushed the test strip onto her blood drop, and the meter read 101, showing that she was not diabetic (she had eaten two hour prior. Had she been fasting, the reading would have been below 101, which would not be diabetic territory).
Relief on her part, that the pinprick was done, and that she was not diabetic.
Odd, that I had pushed her limits in an unplanned way.
She trusted me. I'll be spanking her sometime next week, and she'll feel safe with me now that we've bled together.
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"You women....
The small-breasted ones want larger breasts. The large-breasted ones want smaller ones. The straight-haired ones curl their hair, and the curly-haired ones straighten theirs...
Quit fretting. We men love you."
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Trust and blood. - 
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