/Now I know she’s mine/
/Over my knee her bottom/
/Rises to meet my hand/
I want to write about spanking. It’s a bit off the normal subject matter for this blog and the web is full of spanking erotica, most of which will be better written than mine. But I need a bit of light relief after a few posts of high intensity caning and way too much introspection.
And anyway: I bloody love spanking.
Really, I do. You had me down as a masochist who can’t wait for the next beating, right? And so I am but spanking is, well…just delicious. To have a woman over my knee and to slap her bottom until it’s red all over and she’s a sweaty mess.
Yum. Just Yum.
I have two spankings in my head and I am not sure I have yet achieved the perfect realisation of either. But it’s fun trying. It’s really, reeeeally fun.
My normal spanking style is very sensual.
This is spanking as foreplay; spanking as a sexual and sensual interaction between two willing participants. It’s not even particularly about dominance and submission. Those lines blur when she starts to lift her bottom towards my hand, twisting it slightly before each slap to proffer a particular spot. “Hit me here…. Now here” she’s saying. And I do, because this spanking is about her more than it’s about me.
I can sense when to hit her harder, when to speed up or slow down. I know when to pause altogether and stroke her bottom with a feather-light touch so she can revel in the super-sensitivity of her well smacked skin.
This spanking is all about understanding, intimacy and connection.
This spanking is about balancing pain and pleasure. Sometimes I give them alternately, perhaps letting my fingers stray over her wet clitoris after a series of hard slaps. Sometimes I let her experience both at the same time, as she uses a vibrator while I smack her bottom steadily. The contrasting sensations form a perfect maelstrom of pain and pleasure into which she will totally submerge herself.
In this spanking I am sensitive to her responses. I know intuitively how much of what she feels is pleasure and how much pain. I know exactly how close she is to the transcendental calm of subspace and can choose to spank her deep into its welcome embrace; or I can use sudden changes of rhythm and intensity to bring her back from the edge and keep her fully with me.
Most of all though, this spanking is about sex. The room is full of it, as if clouds of pheromones rise off her skin every time I slap it. We might start as strangers but by the end we know each other intimately, brought together by the intensity of the shared experience. By the end we are ready to explore each other’s bodies in different ways.
So what about my other spanking style?
This spanking is different. This spanking is all about me.
This spanking is about non-consensual punishment.
Rough, hard slaps delivered too fast for her to process. Smacking, smacking and smacking her again. Holding her down tight over my knee. Grabbing her hand and roughly pulling it out of the way when she tries to protect herself. Increasing the intensity relentlessly; one smack after another until she’s squealing and kicking her legs, trying to get away from my hard unforgiving hand. This spanking is all about dominance and submission and nothing short of her absolute submission will satisfy me.
At the end I want her to be slumped on the floor, crying……..
Because then I can pick her up, rebuild her and offer her all the aftercare in the world. I can bring her back to life one kiss at a time and restore her equilibrium with tender hugs and gentle strokes. After this spanking I can allow my normal, caring personality to reassert itself once the vicious sadist that lurks within me has gorged himself on her pain.
The problem for the submissive is that, until I walk into the room, I don’t know which of these spankings I want to administer….
And so neither can she….