Being Spanked

I like to be spanked. I'm not into the BDSM scene, and the whole "Fifty Shades" phenomenon leaves me a bit cold. But I do like to be spanked.

Why? Several reasons.

First, there's something about the sensation that I like, even as it hurts. Spankos distinguish between 'stings' and 'thuds'. A sting is quick and sharp; a thud is hard and deep. Stings are usually administered with a small, thin implement, like a crop, a switch, or a ruler. There's not a lot of force behind the spank, but it is applied over a small area, so it stings. Thuds usually come from something heavier and wider, like a paddle or a hairbrush. Now there is a lot of force, but it's applied over a larger area, and it tends to be felt not just on the surface but inside. The hand, the original and most versatile spanking device, can be used for either: If the hand is pulled back just as the skin is hit, it will produce a sting; a solid wallop, with full force of the hand absorbed by the buttocks, will yield a thud. Different people tend to prefer one of the other. As it happens, I prefer the sting, though I do enjoy a thud from time to time.

Let's say I'm being spanked with a thin rod. A good spanking starts out light, with the rod being flicked back and forth, almost barely touching the skin. This sensation awakens my senses. It doesn't hurt yet, not really. It almost teases, like a little pinch. But it makes me very aware of my (probably exposed) butt. As the rod is flicked a bit harder, and the intensity of the blows increases, the sensation starts to spread across my ass, as the sting from one blow doesn't have a chance to fade before the next one sets a different group of nerves ablaze. As I am struck now with a really fierce blow, the initial shock grabs my attention, and I can feel nothing but the sharp sting of the rod and the trail of ringing nerves in its wake. As that sensation abates, it merges with the others that preceded it, which I now feel again. After a while, my nerves are screaming, here, there, and everywhere, and my consciousness is just consumed with the sensations that are emanating from my ass. I lose myself in these feelings, and I cherish that loss of self.

Perhaps the most intense feeling, however, is when the spanking stops. By now, my ass feels as if it is on fire, but I am almost not aware of that sensation. Rather, I am overcome by a rush of something I am tempted to describe as intense pleasure, almost of the magnitude of a fantastic orgasm. I find myself unable to move, but must simply stay where I am and let myself be carried along by whatever wave it is that has taken hold of me. Often, I find that my loins contract in much the same way as if I were having an orgasm. Maybe I am having an orgasm. I don’t know. Physiologically, this sensation is probably due, in part, to the massive release of endorphins occasioned by the pain I've just endured, and, as that pain abates, there is a high that just takes over. But whatever the cause, it is an amazing experience, and I love it.

I also feel an odd sense of pride when my spanking is over. Pride that I was able to withstand the pain that was inflicted upon me (even if it was at my own request). I've only rarely seen other spankees talk about this part of their experience. I suppose that, for me, it must be due, in part, to the fact that I was spanked as a child, though the word "spank" has never seemed to do justice to what was done to me. I don't really remember my beatings (as I'd prefer to call them) or their aftermath. I remember very little from my childhood, quite generally. What I remember from my beatings are terror and confusion. And trying desperately to elude my tormentor’s grasp. And screaming for help. But from whom?

We all deal with these things in our own ways, and it has take me a long time to come to terms with my past, if indeed I have. One of the things that has helped me is to transform spanking into an erotic experience. This time, I am the one in control. This time, I will decide what happens to me and what does not. And this time, the pain will not be something I fear, but something I crave, and something I invite. And it will not be inflicted by someone I fear, but by someone I love, and to whom I give myself willingly. So there are physical, mental, and emotional aspects to the experience for me, and the sexual arousal and pleasure that my being spanked now produce for me are the most effective antidote I have found to some of the darkest memories from my childhood.

But maybe the most wonderful aspect of this experience is the bond I share with my partner. Asking her to spank me, allowing myself to be spanked by her, making myself physically vulnerable to her, knowing that I can trust her, knowing how deeply I do trust her, the joy of offering myself to her in this way, knowing how much she loves me, knowing that she is willing to enter into this special place with me, and knowing that I want her here. All of these things vividly illuminate the bond we share even while they reinforce it.

Unfortunately, I have shared this experience with a partner only a very few times. None of my partners has really been into spanking me, though they’ve agreed to do so from time to time. For me, then, the experience of being spanked is one I have, for the most part, only had when I am also the one doing the spanking. That is, I have to spank myself.

I’ll talk in my next article about what that’s like.

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NOTE: Anyone considering getting into spanking should make sure they understand the safety issues involved. There are lots of guides online. The most important rule is never, ever, ever to hit someone on their tailbone or above it, where the kidneys are, as this can cause serious, and even life-threatening, injuries.