The Tantus Thwack paddle lying on some grass.

Spanking: Chapter 1

The Tantus Thwack paddle lying on some grass.

For the past few weeks, the thought of spanking (which I am using as an umbrella term for impact play in general) has made my mouth go dry and my heart rate skyrocket. I think about it almost every day, and every hour I grow more impatient for my next spanking date. (Which, at the time of writing, is less than 24 hours away, and I’m not sure I can wait even that long.) I think about spanking when I’m manic, when I’m depressed, and when I’m content. It’s a deep seated craving. Three months ago, however, spanking was the furthest thing from my mind. As cliché as it sounds, if, in October, you had told me that in January I would buy three spanking paddles and a flogger in two weeks, I wouldn’t have believed you.

Previously, I had very mixed feelings about spanking. I didn’t even like the word. The strongest association I had with “spanking” was of non-consensual childhood disciplinary spanking, which is something I am firmly opposed to. I preferred “paddling” or “slapping”, or anything really, other than spanking. Having never been spanked as a child, there was an instinctual revulsion I felt towards the act, which had been instilled in me by my parents. On the flip side, I also suffered from a spot of kink elitism. I too often think of kinks in an escalator model, with each practice a stepping stone to more intense and more dangerous practice. I hate being the least experienced or the newbie in a group, so I spent a lot of time when I was 18 cultivating kinks that I felt made me seem more experienced and sophisticated. This lead me to do crazy things, like cast aside my love for rope bondage because I couldn’t immediately master a whole body karada. Luckily, I was surrounded by people who were sensible enough not to let me jump into blood play without any training, but that was my first inclination. Suffice to say, when I was sloughing off the “first tier” kinks, spanking was the first to go. Sure, I would spank other people if they asked, but I secretly thought I was above that kind of stuff. (Yes, I was a real dick when I was younger. What can I say? You’re always in the process of building your best self.) It wasn’t until I started to read the blogs of spanking aficionados like Bex and Kate Sloan that this really started to change. I began to think of spanking as more complex than just a dichotomy between abuse and Baby’s First Kink™. Hearing people speak so effusively about what spanking meant to them made me rethink my prejudices. I realised that spanking could be about power dynamics, and endurance, and mental health, and most importantly for me (an avowed sensation slut) the physical feeling of a hand or a paddle or a flogger across your asscheeks. Of course, it’s fine if spanking is your only kink (or if you don’t even consider it a kink!) but it was incredible to find such depth in something I had previously considered so simple.

So why am I so obsessed with spanking now? As I’ve said before, I love the physical feeling of being spanked. There are a whole lot of nerve endings on your butt and thighs, and spanking gets the blood flowing and awakens the nerve endings there. There’s a more in depth discussion of the physical responses to spanking in the spanking episode of Tina Horn’s podcast, Why Are People Into That?. I’m still unsure if I consider myself a masochist, but I certainly enjoy the way that spanking creates a delicious mix of pain and pleasure. That particular place is my favourite murky puddle to play in. Another thing that I’ve come to realise is that spanking can really help to moderate my mental health. I have schizoaffective disorder, which is like a mix between bipolar and schizophrenia, so I experience both manic periods and depressive periods. When I’m manic, my thoughts race and I feel almost painfully active. Spanking gives me something to focus on when that’s happening, and I get a release of all that pent up energy. I find that I crave paddles and palms when I’m manic, because the more thuddy sensation allows me to ground myself. A beating that I can feel shaking my whole butt and thighs is much more attention-grabbing in the long term than something that is just focused on one strip of flesh. Conversely, I crave stingier sensations like crops and floggers when I am depressed. Stingy beatings light up my nerve endings much quicker than thuddy ones, and it gives me energy when I need it. I also find that spanking other people is something I enjoy more when I’m depressed. (If you want to read more, Kate Sloan is basically the queen of writing about spanking and mental illness) I, somewhat jokingly, consider myself a service top, by which I mean I am primarily driven by a desire to take care of my sub, and give them the best experience possible. When I’m depressed, the thought of giving someone a spanking when they really want one is enough to get me to smile or start to get out of bed. Finally, I love the versatility of spanking. I love to collect gear, and I love pervertables too, but spanking is something that you can do really simply, with just a hand and some skin.

I’m by no means at the end of my spanking journey, and I’m sure there are deeper depths to plumb when it comes to how spanking interacts with my mental health, or my other kinks. I’m always going to be growing my collection of paddles and floggers, and finding new people to spank and be spanked by. I’m filled with joy just from thinking about this kink, and how it fits neatly into my conception of myself as a kinky, cerebral person. If you were thinking of getting into spanking, as a gateway kink or not, I just want to impress upon you how rewarding and exhilarating it is to start to write your own spanking story.

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