Friday, December 31, 2010

Spanking? Yes, please!

There is likely a variety of reasons why someone might enjoy spanking (on either end of the deal). A spanker might be naturally dominant, enjoy power exchange, enjoy inflicting pain, enjoy the sensual, intimate aspects of spanking, etc. A spankee might be naturally submissive, enjoy handing the reins over to someone else, find the pain and the process to be physically arousing, perhaps they’ve fetishized childhood punishments, or something else. Some people may not be all that into the spanking itself, but find their partner’s reactions to be incredibly arousing, so they do it not so much because they love spanking, but because they are turned on by the intense physical reaction from the spankee.

As someone on the submissive end of the kink spectrum, I can say from personal experience that there’s something deeply satisfying and arousing about the dynamic during a spanking. I have issues with control; I have a tight rein on everything during my normal life and it’s difficult for me to loosen that up. It’s due to this control that I struggle with allowing myself to be vulnerable, even in good, trusting relationships, and even in bed. Being the submissive one in a “scene” is like having a weight lifted off me for a time.. I pass on that control and I feel a grateful bliss.
I do have a small dominant streak and I have tried my hand at spanking; I enjoy it when the mood strikes. I think what I like about it is being the one in power/control and being able to inflict a bit of pain that turns the other person on.

My last two girlfriends were not naturally dominant (the last one identified as a submissive), but once they saw how my body responded to their taking control and spanking me, they really quickly got on board and both of them came to love doing it.

I’m pretty sure my draw to being spanked (amongst other elements, such as craving punishment, discipline, and enjoying some humiliation during spankings) is due to my father beating me with a belt on my bare butt when I was little. These beatings were extraordinarily traumatic to me at the time, and not something I would intentionally take along into adulthood. I mean, as much as I have been spanked and enjoyed it, I have always thought I would draw the line if my top broke out a belt. Too close to home, you know?
I make the connection because of the elements I mentioned above. Like, a spanking for no reason is great, but man, if you add in the element of punishment, it’s like over-the-top hot for me. I’ve long pondered my interest in kink, BDSM, spanking. I don’t remember when it began, when I realized that it turned me on. It’s just always been fascinating and arousing.

In terms of whether fetishizing childhood punishments is positive or negative, I think it depends on the individual. To me, it’s like someone who has been raped that has rape fantasies. You have your traumatic event, then you have to work through it. Part of me sees either situation as being dependent on some factors. If the person is relatively healthy and is not still devastated by the trauma, I don’t see that as being negative. Under the right conditions, I think exploring this fetish with a healthy mindset is a way of working through the trauma in a safe environment. If the person hasn’t healed, it may be cathartic as well, but I would be afraid that that sort of play might rip open the wounds, rather than being therapeutic.

Lastly, I will say that I have mixed feelings about my own abuse and later fetishes. I find it a little creepy and gross, in how it started. I mean, if I think of the abuse, it is not at all a turn on and it kind of makes me a little sick to my stomach. I guess it feels kind of weird when I analyze it, because I pretty much know where it all began (thanks, Dad!). However, I know enough psychology to recognize that it’s not a bad way to have processed this trauma. I could have gone other routes.. to become an abuser, or self-abusing through substances, or whatever. I guess my point is, in my case, that it’s probably not the most positive thing, but I’m trying to turn it into one by exploring the fetish in safe, comfortable ways.

Tuesday, December 28, 2010


Gender is a topic I find to be endlessly fascinating, so you'll probably hear more about it in the posts to come. Exploring and experimenting with ones masculinity and femininity, with society's gender roles,  it's exciting and fun. I love it when people buck the norm.. women doing things that are traditionally male and vice versa, for example.

I present as tomboyish and I consider myself genderqueer, in that I feel a good balance of both male and female exists in me. I'm neither one or the other, I am both. Both sides require expression and sometimes it feels so good to be really girly or really boyish.

 JC and I were together for about two and a half years. Our sex life, the hotness level, was off the charts. We were just so bare, intimate, and connected with each other; both of us agreed it was the hottest sex of our lives. She grew up in a devoutly Catholic home and learned to suppress her sexuality. She was also a huge tomboy at heart, but had learned to present with a feminine appearance in order to fit in socially and to hide her emerging sexuality.

When we were together, JC would sometimes let loose and express her boy side. I encouraged this because seeing how it transformed her, how it made her feel, was a huge turn on. She'd sometimes pack without saying anything and then appear at my side and wait for me to notice the considerable bulge in her pants. She loved playing a boy and I found it really hot. Not to mention, she really owned her cock and boy, did she ever know how to use it!

I love a girl who owns her cock.  Mmmm.

Her boi persona was on the dominant side. We'd talk dirty as I stroked her. She'd get top-y and push it into my mouth. She loved wearing that cock and she loved watching me worship it, which I found to be immensely hot and arousing.  JC liked to focus and imagine what it'd be like to fuck me, were her cock real. Man, she was good with that thing and she knew how to make me feel amazing! I loved imagining she could feel me, wishing she could get off inside of me.

Thursday, December 16, 2010

Love Hesitates

The one thing I want most in life, my ultimate life's goal, is love. True love, of course, with my soulmate or some other non-sappy equivalent. Love. Alas and alack!  Love has been such a cruel mistress; giving me a taste of my heart's desire and then dancing away with it, laughing.

Sex with someone you love is potent. It amazes me sometimes. Everything goes away, is erased from your consciousness, until the only thing that exists is that person. You become hyper aware of their every aspect; the warmth radiating from their body as they come closer, their smell, the subtleties of desire like their breathing coming quicker, their eyes darkening as their pupils dilate.

This kind of sex is religious to me. Or, at the very least, spiritual. There is no other time that I am so completely and totally present in the moment. It feels like the touching of souls. Like the closest humans will ever get to feeling, seeing, or experiencing the Divine.

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Thursday, December 09, 2010

Damn, it's cobwebby in here

As is plainly obvious, I'm a bad blogger. Really, what happened was a relationship, an out-of-state move, and then it all went downhill from there for the next 5 years. What I've learned is that it seems impossible to blog while I'm in a relationship, whether that relationship is good or bad.

I did have one pretty good relationship, JC, who I dated and with whom I cohabitated for over two years. I revealed this blog to JC, but then came to regret it as she made it clear she'd like me to blog about us. I found it too much pressure and choked.

Then life. Focusing on survival. Not having reliable internet. Several moves. One really horrible girlfriend. Blah blah.

Anyway, I was reading over some of my old posts and found myself a bit surprised and pleased with my writing here. So, I will try to post more! I am single again, after all.

Saturday, March 20, 2010

A Fantasy

It's the end of my senior year, just weeks until graduation, and seeing that most of my work is finished, I've been finding it hard to care. I've been rolling into class late a lot, sometimes not bothering to show up at all. I had a feeling it'd catch up to me eventually, so I just roll my eyes and shake my head when I get called into your office.

I stride down the empty hallway toward the office, where your matronly secretary scowls and ushers me directly into your presence, then sharply closes the door behind me. You sit perched behind the 'Principal' sign on your desk and, judging by your cold, appraising stare from across your imposing wood desk, you are not pleased. I sit down in an ancient leather chair and and roll my eyes slightly as you begin to lecture me on my disregard for the rules and the importance of being on time. Irritated, you rise slowly and tell me that I've been warned plenty of times and since it's obvious that the niceties have failed, it is time for more serious punishment.

I raise an eyebrow, at least until you pull a ruler from your desk drawer, and then I blink. I look up at your face to gauge your seriousness as you slightly bend the ruler, showing me that it is rigid, yet somewhat flexible, then slap it quickly against your palm. It dawns on me what you intend and I swallow hard as I realize that that ruler probably is going to hurt quite a bit.

You look at me, eyes narrowed and say, "Naughty girls who flout the rules get their backsides reddened." You smack your palm with the ruler again, this time more forcefully. "Stand up and bend over my desk, this instant."

As I move to obey, my mind begins to race. My cheeks flush with embarrassment, knowing that you are going to spank me. I step in front of the desk and lean forward over it, my ass in the air and my breasts feeling the cool wood through my shirt. I hide my burning face and hear the swish of clothing as you move closer to me. I feel you lift the hem of my skirt over my ass and onto my back. My cheeks burn redder as I envision the now-clear view of my panties and everything underneath.

The intervening seconds feel like an eternity as I wait anxiously for your next move. I'm in the process of wondering, and then you bring the ruler down on my ass. I was right; it really stings and I grit my teeth. You raise your arm and bring it down in the same spot several more times, creating an intensely sensitive and painful spot. I cry out a little, involuntarily.

"Bad behavior does not go unpunished," you lecture, and bring the ruler down again, this time on the other cheek.

I exhale through clenched teeth, fighting a groan. The ruler comes down again and again, varying your ever-stronger strokes so that my entire ass becomes red. "Naughty girls who don't learn have to be spanked," you say.

With each blow of the ruler, you become more forceful and my ass more red and sensitive. It becomes difficult to stay quiet, and I begin to gasp each time the ruler strikes my skin. You pause a moment, place your palm on my ass, and lean forward to speak in my ear. Your hand lightly strokes my tingling ass as I feel your warm breath on my ear and hear you say, "I know this is what you need, because you cannot discipline yourself."

You lean back up and quietly ponder for a moment. I feel your hand on my ass, then up to the waistband of my panties. "Oh, God," I think, but it's too late because you're already sliding them down. You pull them down over my ass and leave them on just below my cheeks. I know my ass is bright red and I'm mortified to know that you can probably see how wet and swollen my pussy is getting. I can hear the lightness in your voice and know you're pleased with your handiwork so far, "Such a bad, disrespectful girl deserves a real, bare-assed spanking."

I whimper softly at the idea that there's more to come. You step back slightly and I brace myself, as you bring that wicked ruler down with a hard, stinging slap. You tan my ass with it, bringing it down over and over, causing me to jump at each blow. My ass is getting so sore and I start to wonder how much I can take. I hope each blow is the last, but you continue on bringing your arm down again and again, lecturing me. I feel each slap of the ruler more intensely and more painfully than the last.

Just when I wonder how much more I can take, you pause again. I hear you set the ruler down and can feel the heat of your body near my inflamed skin. You run your palm over my now bright red skin, which is radiating a lot of heat. The skin of your hand is a pleasing torture, it is both erotic and a painful reminder of your beating. You gently stroke the skin of both ass cheeks and my face burns more as I feel you lower your hand to brush over my wet, swollen lips. I am so tense and turned on that I moan shamelessly; your touching between my legs has sent another rush of wetness. I can't help but move my hips slightly as your fingers slide along my slit to rub my clit briefly, then back up to tease my opening.

I hear you pick up the ruler and I let out a groaned sigh of frustration. I am so wildly turned on and quivering with desire and anticipation that I can't help but cry out with each strike of the ruler. You strike again several times, hard, unbearably in the same spot, just to watch me writhe and beg you to stop with my cries.


Over and over, expertly covering my ass with strikes as you beat me, not a patch of skin spared. You continue to lecture and berate me for my bad character, but I can't focus on your words anymore. Each blow hurts worse than the last and my ass is hot, sore, and stinging. I don't think I can take much more and helpless tears spring to my eyes. Just when I'm about to cry or to beg you to stop, I hear you set down the ruler and come up behind me. I breathe a sigh of relief and sag on the desk, trying to catch my breath.

Your fingertips tease and taunt as they play over my sore, tingling skin. I can feel the wetness beginning to drip down my lips. You run your fingers down between my legs, and lean over me. I can feel the hardness of your cock through your pants, pressing into my hip. Your fingers begin to explore more aggressively, sliding through the slick wetness, feeling how swollen my lips and clit are, and I moan. Your fingers tease my clit, slide down my lips, then I feel one slowly slip inside. I can no longer hold it in and give a long, loud moan as your finger slowly makes its way into my pussy.

I give a groan of disappointment as I feel your finger exit. I hear your zipper slide down, a short rustle of clothing,and then feel the head of your cock pressed against my pussy lips. "Oh, God," I groan, as you take my hips in your hands.

In the next moment, you ram your hard cock all the way inside me. I give a deep-throated moan as I feel your cock parting my tight pussy, opening it up until you're as deep as you can go. You rest there a moment, holding your cock deep inside, enjoying the feel of my pussy and how it pulses around your cock. You comment on how hot to the touch my ass feels against your skin, with a small, sadistic chuckle.

Then, my hips in your hands, you make a point to pound against my sore, red ass, driving home my punishment, reminding me with each thrust. You lean forward and ask in my ear, "How does that spanking feel now?" You drive into me, slapping my ass hard with your hips. "Your pussy is so wet, you really are a dirty, dirty girl..."

All I can do is moan and work my pussy on your cock. I want it so bad and it feels so good to be taken like this. You reach a hand up under my shirt, push my bra up, and squeeze one of my breasts, making the nipple hard. You pinch it, which causes my pussy to squeeze your cock. You give a grunt of pleasure and continue to drive your cock in and out of me. I keep getting wetter and more turned on and I feel like I could take it forever, but soon your thrusts come faster and faster and I know you're going to come.

One hand squeezing my breast, the other on my hip, you drive your cock forcefully into my pussy, working closer to orgasm. Your breathing gets faster, your thrusts faster and harder, and I know you're close. Finally, the hand on my hip flies up, and you get a tight fistful of my hair, pulling my head back and holding it there. You let out a long, throaty groan, thrust a few times shallowly, then plunge your cock deep in me. You hold me tight against you as you ride out your climax in a series of breathy groans.

When you are finished, you slide out of me and give my ass one last hard slap with your hand and tell me to get dressed. You give me a stern look and say that you hope I've learned my lesson.