I keep wishing I knew how to put into words what a really long, hard punishment spanking feels like. I mean, obviously it hurts. The hairbrush, ping-pong paddle or even his hand stings so much that I whimper and squirm and kick and desperately wish it would end.
And while I might be cheeky and even a little impudent to start off with, by the end I’m usually penitent and chastened. Not to mention meek and obedient. And sore. Very sore.
But I’m also happy. Gratified. Serene.
Sure there are endorphines involved, and I may indeed be a bit high on them afterwards. But it’s something more.
Perhaps the closest word that explains that wonderful, dreamy sort of feeling after a spanking is content. Like that sigh you make when you cuddle up to the person who just a few minutes earlier was hurting you but only because he genuinely cherishes you and wants desperately to see that you are nurtured and provided for.
Yes, I think it’s knowing that I’m his cherished little girl. That I have the freedom to be child-like without fear of being less than an adult.
Maybe it has something to do with being so vulnerable. Of showing in all it’s ugliness that thing I loathe — failure — and having him remove it with his hand or paddle or hairbrush. It hurts, but it’s gone and I don’t have to live with it shadowing me. And throughout its expulsion, he doesn’t think any less of me. Doesn’t love me any less. If only for a moment, I forget my terror of being bad or a burden or abandoned.
There’s something magical that happens when we cuddle after the spanking. Like some sort of alchemy where everything turns golden. A spell that makes the world — for a few moments at least — feel perfect. Safe. Blissful.
I dunno. There’s a thesaurus full of words I could probably use but it still wouldn’t quite explain it. Or the thrill in thinking about the spanking later in every minute detail. The giddiness that comes with remembering that feeling of genuine remorse. I was naughty – for real – and got punished. And I’m still okay.
I’m sure the magic spell requires touching. Yes, it’s the touching that binds all the ingredients in the potion. The synergy required for transcendence.
Yes, I think that’s the word. We humans are communal beings and for many of us spankos, a long, hard disciplinary spanking is an act of communion. And that makes it a spiritual act. Why it is so powerful. So much more than just a neurochemical reaction…
I hunted for this draft post this afternoon while I was writing a post at my own blog about spirituality and spanking. It was initially just a freewrite that I thought needed some work to be honed into a post. But after reading it again after not looking at it for months, it seemed to be not only a nice post in and of itself, but also a nice companion piece — as it’s focused exclusively on punishment — to the post linked to at the beginning of this paragraph.