Let us Start In the Middle

This is an exercise for me. An attempt to process what is in my head. I am not trying to quiet the voices nor am I trying give into them. I am trying to accept the voices, control them, and understand them.

I was always excited by spanking. Everything about it is exciting, dangerous, and sexual. It was so confusing to me growing up which created shame which itself was exciting because there was something shameful about being spanked.

I remember walking along the street in a small town in Minnesota. It was summer and the windows were open. I was maybe 13 or 14. As I crossed in front of a two story square red brick house with white trim, the sounds of a boy maybe my age but probably younger was pleading with a silent authority figure. The pleading ended with the sound of sharp slaps and almost immediate crying. It didn't last long, but I was almost frozen on the sidewalk, transfixed by the sound and frighteningly aroused.

Now, of course, I realize I was probably listening to something horrible, abusive and damaging. At the time, listening to a peer being punished just triggered my imagination and I saw it only in the best possible light. Ritualistic. Naked. Embarrassing. Painful. The triggers that haunt a lifetime as it turns out.

That wasn't my only childhood brush with spanking but this is a blog and so I will recount them in later posts.

Now I am married, male, middle aged, living in the USA, athletic, professional, a father, a Christian, and generally viewed as an alright person. People either love me or hate me because they totally don't get me or my sense of humor. My wife is vanilla but she loves me. She understands that I want and need to be spanked and I think she is a little relieved that I am not interested in spanking her. She doesn't like to hurt me (which is sweet, really) but does so because she loves me. Like most of us that are into spanking or kinkier things, my spanking is strictly a secret between my wife and I. It is challenging to write about this incredibly personal part of myself and keep the details vague to protect my anonymity. Then again, if you are reading this and you figure out who I am, that says some interesting about you as well, yes? Out me and I will out you. :)

We dabbled in spanking on and off throughout our long marriage. I tried spanking her but she hated it and I didn't really like it either. There were a couple good spankings she gave me long ago but I was too repressed to express my desires. Then a couple years ago, I tried again to express what I was looking for. This time it seems to have worked.

The pattern is that every month or two, I find myself obsessed with getting a spanking. I feel like I need it. For years, I would write fiction or masturbate to spanking pornography. Writing was good but masturbation failed. I tried self-spanking. It worked a couple times but failed more often than not.

This is getting long so I should probably just describe one of my spankings. I like getting spanked in the morning because I can't help but think about it all night. I hadn't masturbated in a couple days and we hadn't had sex either. I was (and always am) a little pent up. We arrange a time days in advance because of our crazy work schedules.

I was up early because I had really only been dozing all night. I was erect all night oozing pre-cum onto the sheets. I felt bad showering it off my legs and stomach. I felt like I should leave it to show her how naughty I had been all night. I made a note to wear underwear to bed next time so that I could put my slimed underwear back on after my shower so that she would see my naughty juice before the spanking.

I got cleaned up but had such a nervous stomach that I kept going back to the potty to try to poop. I think I did once before I showered and twice afterwards. I don't trust toilet paper to clean me up before a spanking so stepped into the shower again after each time to spray off so I would be super clean for her.

Once my stomach was finally calm, I put on my robe and puttered around the house trying to make everything clean while waiting for her to come home from work. I got out my spanking tools that I thought would be good (a lexan paddle, a heavy wooden spoon, a smaller bath brush, and a leather slapper) and my spanking cummy towel.

I've never called it my cummy towel to my wife but that is what it has always been in my head. I like the idea that my erection, orgasm, and ejaculation are all part of the adolescent part of me that I can't control. It is just my sexual naughty and shameful part that I couldn't control while I was a teenager. That is sort of understandable for a teenager but silly and immature for an adult. Spanking is a punishment for an immature person so my sexual response and parts are immature as well. I don't cum because adult men cum when they have sex with grown women. I am 'have a cummy' because it is like I am a little boy having an inappropriate sexual response.

Playing with the tools made me hard and uncomfortable under my robe. I opened it to let my shame (only bad boys get erections waiting for spankings) hang free. I had oozed pre-cum again and lint from my robe was stuck to the end of my erect penis. I like the clinical terms. People that have sex have cocks and dicks and hard-ons. I am not having sex; I am having a spanking and because of that I use the clinical terms like a doctor or professional would use. After all, I am waiting for someone to administer treatment like a ritual: "Spank the bottom until it is red, jiggling, and sore. The subject may ejaculate during the treatment. Do not stop until the proper response--crying, pleading, begging, and signs of true distress and remorse--are achieved".

I don't know why, but the blue-gray lint stuck to myself seemed wrong. Back into the shower I went and washed it off. I checked the clock and knew she would be home at any time. I thought about pajama bottoms or underwear but I was stuck in indecision. I put on a tight fitting workout shirt and went bottomless through the house.

She came home and I met her at the door. I wasn't completely erect but my scrotum was tight and I was clearly enlarged. I nervously explained why I was meeting my wife who was going to spank me at the door with no pants on and an erection. She said it would be nice if I would meet her at the door with an erection to make love to her as well. I apologized and promised I would.

I followed her around like a puppy as she put her stuff away eventually ending up in the bedroom where I thought I would get my punishment. It isn't really punishment, of course; I haven't done anything bad and we don't have a domestic discipline relationship at all. In my head, I am being spanked because I get sexually excited by being spanked. That is what is naughty. I shouldn't have an erection and I shouldn't want what was going to happen. But I did and that is bad. My spanking was supposed to 'correct' these feelings, make my penis get soft, make my bottom hurt, make me not want another spanking.

She sat down in the chair and put my cummy towel on her lap so that if I made a mess, it wouldn't get on her clothes. I took off my shirt so I was completely naked (she was completely clothed), knelt on the floor to her right and asked for a hard spanking. I said that I would try not to wiggle until it started to hurt too much but that if I wiggled, I would probably make a mess in the towel. I asked her to let me have my fun, but then use the bath brush hard and fast after I was done having my 'fun'.

I went over her lap finally and shivered as my now mostly erect penis finally touched the terry cloth of my special towel. She started spanking almost right away with the lexan paddle. We always use that first because it is light and stingy. It is good for the warm up as it brings blood to surface and seems to keep me from bruising. I sighed into the carpet. I was finally getting my spanking and it was just a matter of time before I would get to wiggle and make my cummy all over the towel.

I usually try to take as much as I can before wiggling. It isn't really wiggling; it is humping. She didn't go for long with that paddle before changing to the leather slapper. It hurts worse and covers both cheeks at the same time. I started thrusting forward after a couple spanks and though I tried not to, it felt so good that I kept doing it.

She used the spoon next and I spread my legs so that she could easily get my perineum, inside my crack, and right on my sit spots. Being spanked on such sensitive areas makes me twitch at each strike. I try to stay arched and open so that I take my spanking like a big boy, but after a little while, I can't and I convulse humping her lap.

She switched back to the lexan paddle (which surprised me) and I started humping her legs trying to distract myself from the sting. There is usually a moment when I realize that I will be able to have an orgasm; no matter how hard she spanks, I feel like I will be able to make it happen and I relax. That feeling of crossing the point of no return approached and I knew my ejaculation was going to happen. Of course, afterwards, then the real spanking was going to start. I love being caught between wanting and needing my release but dreading the fire that will ruin my orgasm afterwards.

I remember it came on quickly and I arched my back while I squirted my shame into the towel. She stopped spanking when she saw and heard the telltale signs of a man ejaculating. She can't feel or see the actually semen coming out, but she knows.

It was a good orgasm (they aren't always; sometimes it is just ejaculation without the good feelings). She paused as she changed to the dreaded brush. I whined as I felt the wood resting on my cheek before the first real spank of the day.

It doesn't last long. Never does. I almost always safe word (we use green-yellow-red) or raise my hand or just say "I've had enough". She doesn't like to role play so if I say something, I have to actually mean it. I made it about 30 seconds--probably less--before stopping her with "I think I've had enough" squeaking out from between my teeth. She stopped and I laid there feeling the warm wetness of my ejaculate under my stomach. I finally got up and we both checked out the puddle on the towel. I am always surprised that the most I cum is when I am being spanked.

That's it. I feel the rush of adrenaline and endorphins and the stress of my life wash away as my cortisol level drops. The sting remains but I only notice it when I sit for the rest of the day. It is warm too as my bottom heals itself. About an hour later as I couldn't help think about what happened, I get an erection again and wonder how long before I will need another spanking.