on spanking

Recently, a friend of mine asked me to write about spanking. I find it hard to write on demand, but finally, after letting some thought bubble and simmer for a while, I’ve come up with some things to say.

My first introduction to spanking was with a deliciously sexy partner just a few months before I began to experiment with BDSM in any real way. It wasn’t a “real” spanking, but it was enough to let me realize I wanted more. My thoughts and feelings on the experience ended up in a very short story called First Time.

My first “real” spanking was administered by the very first Dom I ever had the pleasure of playing with. It, too, was a revelation. What surprised me the most were the tears that sprung to my eyes while he spanked me. It wasn’t from the pain – while it was a firm spanking, it was far from being unbearable physically. It wasn’t from frustrated arousal – although I was very aroused. It came, seemingly, from some deep emotional wellspring and to this day I’m not entirely sure what the tears meant. Though it wasn’t the first time he and I played together, it was my first real introduction to the emotions that can come to the fore when playing with power exchange (more on that in a later post).

I’m not sure why spanking continues to be a theme in my fantasies. It’s not the pain, and definitely not the threat of marking – pictures like this leave me cold, frankly. I’m not Catholic, nor did I have a sexually repressed childhood, so I don’t think it’s out of guilt or shame.

Part of it is this, perhaps. It seems like such an ultimate act. For someone who is perpetually and uncontrollably a smart-ass, it feels like a truly delicious way to put me back in my place. All in good fun, of course.

But there’s something more there. Something deeper about punishment and submission and exhibitionism all tied up together, maybe. I haven’t thought it all through, yet. Perhaps I need to experience it a few more times in order to really get my thoughts in order about it.

I was reading Noble Vices recently, a new Black Lace novel. It is truly horrid. Damn, I could write better than this. I found myself thinking several times during the reading: “What were they thinking when they bought this?”

And then I got to the first real spanking scene. And I understood why they bought it. Two really, really well written spanking scenes:

I managed to focus, slowing the rhythm of my fingers as I decided what to hold in my head as I came. There was a lot to choose from. The shock when I’d been told I was to be spanked publicly. My confusion as I struggled to resist my own feelings. How it had felt to be drawn gently down across his knee, surrendering utterly. The lifting of my skirt. Feeling my ridiculous little knickers come on show. Being smacked, so calmly. Knowing the man had seen me. The way the women had looked at me – shock and amusement.

The whole scene is fabulous, mind you, but this paragraph sums it up for me. The submission and the punishment and his calm matter-of-factness and the exhibitionism. I’d never read a scene with a public (non-scene) spanking before.

Could I ever submit to a spanking in public? The naughty throb between my thighs says yes. The rest of me says hell, no. Let’s just hope the right part stays in charge if the opportunity ever presents itself.

And which part, you ask, is the right part? You decide. 🙂