I wrestled a bit with the title of this post.
Is my desire to be spanked merely a desire? Or is it a true need?
I know there have been times when I haven't been able to be spanked as much as I'd like, and I know where that puts me...really not in a very good place. I'm not "myself" again until I get a good spanking.
Recently, I asked Jason if I decided I no longer wanted DD as part of our relationship, what would he say? What would he do? He wasn't the one that initiated DD (though his giving me a "real" spanking was a major catalyst for my desiring DD.) He told me that if I really didn't want DD anymore, he'd be okay with it. He said, "But I think you really need this."
He's right. I do.
I love to be spanked. I like sexy spankings...okay, I love sexy spankings. But although they are erotic, and enjoyable, they don't satisfy that itch I have the way a more serious spanking does. Simply put, a more serious spanking that says "I'm in charge" satisfies a deep emotional need of mine I think I still can't fully even grasp.
I know at the heart of it is my own natural, innate desire to be loved and loved deeply.
My most recent serious punishment spanking was very difficult to endure. He took me over his lap and spanked me soundly for doing something dangerous. I could see even in the moment how difficult it was for him to do it. But we both know that a disciplinary spanking truly does work to help me change my behavior. And did he ever want me to change my behavior. Knowing that he would take me across his knee and give me a serious, thorough spanking, for no other reason than to teach me a lesson, honestly makes me feel loved.
If he didn't love me, he wouldn't spank me. If he didn't love me, he'd take the easier way out and not put us both through the ordeal of a harsh spanking. If he didn't love me, he wouldn't care.
But he does love me. So when I need it -- when I've done something thoughtless, or heedless, or I've let my mouth get away from me and damaged our relationship by treating him with disrespect -- he will spank me. The act of being spanked helps me forgive myself for what I've done. And I need that. I let go of my own guilt, my own anger, my own tension I've built up for having done something wrong. But after he's done, he brings me back into him. He consoles me, and soothes me, and lets me know all is forgiven.
The entire process is highly emotional, deeply cathartic, and intensely satisfying, even if it is incredibly difficult to endure in the moment.
I try not to get in trouble, and yet I still need to be spanked. I need this often, and Jason knows this. He tries his hardest to give me as many spankings as I need, but sometimes we just don't have the time or privacy we need and I have to go without. I've seen that whenever I have to go without, I start getting unsettled. I have a weight that begins to descend on me. My thoughts begin to be clouded, and I have to focus hard on the task at hand to keep myself doing what needs to be done. I hit the gym, or go for a run, and that does help. But I know now that I really need a spanking.
And yet, I still struggle with my need to be spanked.
Why am I like this? Why can't I go back to how I used to be? It wasn't that long ago that I didn't have such a strong desire to be spanked. I'd suppressed the urge, because I didn't even know it was normal. And when I finally came to grips with my desire to be spanked, I told my husband. For some reason, I don't remember the conversation, but I do vividly remember that first spanking. He took me over his lap, bared me, and spanked me thoroughly with his hand. It was an intensely erotic experience. We made love afterwards, and it was unlike anything else we'd ever experienced. After I climaxed, I wept. It wasn't sad. He'd touched something deep within me that I didn't even really know was there.
The reality is, something has been awakened in me. This is who I am.
A week or two ago, I needed a spanking. Before he spanked me, I told him I was frustrated. My hands were balled up in frustration, and I was fighting the urge to cry.
"I don't know why I'm like this. It makes me mad that I'm like this. I don't want to be dependent on this. I worry that there's something wrong with me, that I shouldn't need this."
Without saying much of anything, he took me across his knee and spanked me soundly. And when he was done, he made me kneel in front of him, between his knees, my arms resting on his legs. I was more relaxed, more at ease. He put both hands on either side of my face and made me look into his eyes.
"There is nothing wrong with you. This is who you are. You are not weird, or crazy, or anything like that. You need this, and that's okay."
I needed to hear that badly.
I'm getting better. I mostly have confidence in my need to be spanked. I waffle, at times, but there really is no denying the fact that I am just better off being taken in hand. I still work hard at being responsible. I still do other things to relieve my stress and keep me sane. But when I need a spanking, I need a spanking, and I don't need to feel badly about that.
This past weekend, we had more privacy and time alone than we do during the week. I got my fill of spankings, and it was wonderful.
Saturday, I needed a spanking, and Jason knew it. I didn't think we'd have time, so imagine my surprise when he called me upstairs (and I was still thinking I wasn't getting a spanking until later) and he pulled me right across his lap. A long, hard spanking led to something else, and boy did I feel good. But he knows I love a good spanking with the paddle, and the paddle is loud, so he promised me I'd get paddled later that night.
Sure enough, before bed I found myself over his lap again, soundly paddled and thoroughly satisfied. He kissed me, tucked me in, and I was blissfully content.
Sunday morning, we had another opportunity to be alone, so it was time for another round with the paddle. Over his knee I went, and he spanked me long and hard, but slowly. He talked to me about what I needed to do, and as he spanked me I couldn't help but make little "ow" noises.
"I can hear the brat being spanked right out of you," he joked. Ha, ha.
Sunday night I ended up doing something I wasn't supposed to, and got an impromptu hand spanking. It wasn't a harsh spanking, but I felt terrible. He assured me I was forgiven, and I eventually moved on.
I went to bed last night happy, and at peace, with my spank tank completely topped off.
After a weekend like this, there is no denying that I need this. I crave it. And when my needs are met, the sense of relief and satisfaction are undeniable.
If you're reading this blog, chances are, you're like me. You like to be spanked. And if you, like me, struggle with this desire, I want to tell you the same thing my husband told me.
There is nothing wrong with you.
This is who you are.
You are not weird, or crazy, or anything like that.
You need this, and that's okay.