I am craving a spanking.
A good, hard, take-my-breath-away-and-make-me-hurt spanking.
And you know, I have to admit, it isn’t that I haven’t gotten any. I have. Jason has been as regular as clockwork with my maintenance. I haven’t broken rules. I’ve obeyed him and submitted. We’ve actually had a really fantastic week or so together. We went on a date, and talked about plans, and took the kids out, and spent loads of time connecting on all the levels lovers should.
But my need for his dominance is so, so strong. Often, I’m totally satisfied because he never really takes his dom hat off. He expects me to obey, and I do. Yesterday he called while I was out and asked me to do something I didn’t want to (I thought it unnecessary) so I explained my position, and when I explained he just said calmly, firmly, “I wasn’t asking.” And I accepted that.
He demands I keep eye contact when he’s talking to me, that I put my phone down and give him my undivided attention. I kneel, and he tugs my collar. We go over my rules and we have our rituals. He tucks me in and when I need that firm hand, he often responds with a good hair pull and snuggle. Sounds crazy. It really works, though.
But sometimes…I want to hurt.
Part of it is that I allow myself to get into the Dom/sub headspace all the time. I write the books. I blog. I read the books. And to me, it’s such a part of my psyche I can’t separate it from anything else. I'm not sad or grieving. Sometimes I need to feel the hurt because I am hurt. That isn't me today though.
I’ve been mildly stressed lately. It isn’t terrible stuff. Things are fantastic, actually. But we have both major house renovations and overnight guests coming in the next two weeks, and those things are always a challenge. I’m prepared. It’s just on my mind.
I always have so many things on my mind. It’s just what so many of us do.
So once in a while I crave that loss of control. I don’t just want a spanking. I want him to dominate me. I want him to put me over his lap and take his belt to me until my body is striped with his leather and it hurts to sit for days. He knows how to do it. How to make it sting and burn without being too hard on me, or, arguably worse, too easy.
It doesn’t happen often, though, because we have kids in this house, including perceptive teens, so we have to be discreet. Maintenance involves quiet implements. The louder implements are the ones I crave sometimes. Usually his belt. Occasionally I crave the paddle, mostly when I am dying for that good, old-fashioned "put me in my place" spanking. But most of the time, it's his belt I want.
When he gives me that good, hard spanking, it quiets my mind. It’s a physical reminder of his control, his dominance…his love. It reminds me that he’s a strong man, that he’s the one in charge, and even though I’m strong and capable myself, deep down inside I know I’m safe with him. That he will take care of me and protect me. That he won’t let my head spin out of control, my impulses take over, and he won’t let the things I sometimes say or do destroy this relationship we’ve worked so damn hard to build.
When he spanks me good and hard it’s a mind/body experience. My body feels the lashes of his belt or the sting of his hand. My mind silences the little voices that sometimes plague me, my inner censor and self-doubt. My heart is at ease.
After a good, hard spanking he always gives me attentive aftercare, holding me over his lap while he rubs out the sting. Sometimes there’s lotion, sometimes just him rubbing his hand along my skin. Then he holds me. Sometimes I need to cry, not because I’m sad, but because it’s a cathartic release of whatever I’m holding inside me. Sometimes I just sigh in contentment.
I’ll never fully understand why I need that intensity. I unpack it as best I can, and will continue to.
But for now, all I need to know is that I need it. And I present that need to him.
He sometimes knows I need it before I do. “I know what you need,” he’ll say. “You need a really good session over daddy’s knee.”
This time, I recognized it first, though. I think it surprised him because he definitely has been spanking me lately. It’s just nowhere near as long, as hard, or as intimately as I’m craving.
It isn’t all about me, though. So I’ll let it go. I told him. He knows. And now I trust him.