Punishments often come with a myriad of emotions. Frustration. Ambivalence. Fear. Intimacy. Love.
Tuesday’s punishment for several days of missing my bedtime included all of those. A. had told me the night before he was going to sort me out the next day, and I woke up Tuesday with that familiar mixture of excitement and fear. But also a great deal of ambivalence.
Have you ever felt like you just had to be spanked or you would burst? Like you wanted to fling yourself over the lap of the nearest toppy person (creepy neighbors excluded) and beg them to spank you soundly? Or like you wanted to throw a tantrum in the middle of the street just so that someone would grab your ear and drag you off to be spanked?
Um, I have.
W. and I had a long conversation tonight; one of the main topics was me trying to express how I need more structured rules in my life, with both punishment and rewards as part of the system. And as I was talking about the areas where I particularly need help, I had to wonder: am I really, seriously asking to be punished for these things? Do I want to be punished for things I’m nearly certain to do (or, more to the point, do I want to be punished for not doing things I’m nearly certain not to do)?
And the answer is, "No, of course I don’t WANT to be punished for these things."
Which leads to the next question: will punishments work to help me change my behaviors? And there, I think, is the answer.
As I’ve mentioned a few times both here and on my personal blog, this last year found me struggling a great deal with my punishment kink. Some of the concerns have been lingering beneath the surface since I first started exploring my spanking fetish. Others have developed more recently. In the end, however, it all came down to four little words: but I miss it. There’s a certain buzz I get from the profound vulnerability that comes with the punishment kink and the intimacy that vulnerability produces is nothing less than amazing.
I started chipping away at all these issues in one post but eventually realized that, even if I managed to write said post (which kept feeling more and more unwieldly), nobody would ever actually read it because it would be too damn long. 😉 So, I finally decided that it would be more manageable to write and read if I broke it up into a series of posts.
The first issue is one that has been a more recent question as the beginning of the year found me connecting with my inner Appalled Feminist.