I've been sick in bed for the last few days, which isn't fun at the best of times, but is particularly unfun when one is pregnant at the same time. Not only is the list of approved medications limited, it's difficult to get comfortable with a bowling ball strapped to one's middle. But I digress. At one point last night, I was starting to feel a little bored (always a good sign), so I dug out old journals and settled in to read.
These are journals from late college and early adulthood, maybe 7-10 years ago. In other words, just the period of time when I was figuring out my kink and coming to terms with it. I was surprised (and sometimes amused) to read what I wrote and thought some of it might be interesting here.
This is the first entry where I addressed the issue head on, though there are other places where I alluded to it and even (bravely!) wrote the word spank in black and white. But this entry comes about 10 months after breaking up with my college boyfriend, the first man I ever played with. Also, bear in mind that this was from the very early days of internet (at least for me), so I had yet to find much of a real community or have any real conversation with anyone about the subject.
What is this obsession that drives me sexually? Where on earth did it come from? A year ago, I might have added: why me?
I am a spankophile. I crave dominant men who will spank me sexually, spank me when I misbehave, and love this raw, unbidden part of my soul. I want to brat my way into trouble and know that someone is there to enforce boundaries and love me no matter what.
When I first realized that this was sexual for me, I shied away, scared of what it meant. Later, as I began to explore it and even share it with E [college boyfriend] I was embarrassed and shy about my desire while needing it nonetheless. Now, while I would still never share the secret with anyone but the most intimate, I embrace it. It gives me a deep, rich, dark, silty facet, a branch of my soul and being that only two people in this whole world know about and only one understands. E never quite got it, but for a vanilla he certainly converted pretty well.
One of the most complicated parts about my spankophilia is the lack of control. I want to submit, yet I have to find the right person to give that gift. Someone I trust completely, who would never abuse the gift. At the same time, though, there are men who look at me and make my insides liquid and make me want to obey. K is that way sometimes–I can feel sparks fly when he's around because the air is so charged. T's eyes do that too. They pierce me and I feel like one stern look from him could make me come on the spot. …
But could I honestly sleep with either one of them? No matter how much chemistry I wonder if there wouldn't be something to hold me back. And that's only sex. My deepest darkest fantasy is unthinkable until much after sex.
I find it interesting to see which elements are still the same for me and which have changed. Obviously I no longer see spanking as something that must come "much after sex." Grin. That would make spanking parties tricky–or perhaps just more active. And I'm not as secretive or selective about sharing this part of my identity. I don't flaunt it (my profession and other relationships don't quite allow for that), but I'm more open about it with vanilla friends who are safe. And I've found that the more open I am, the more I find like-minded people.
Still, there are more similarities than differences. Though I had yet to experience a relationship with spanking at the core, my statements of identity and desire are still very true. I do want a dominant man to spank me sexually and spank me for punishment. I had no idea about the complexities of incorporating punishment into a long-term relationship when I wrote that, but those words are still at the heart of my kink.
It's also interesting for me to look back at the process of my becoming who I am today. Sometimes I forget how hard-fought each step was. But this entry was monumental: I was acknowledging the truth to myself in ink and I was no longer ashamed of it. I also see elements of what was to be, in terms of noticing other dominant-type men around me and acknowledging my reaction to them. Seeds of what was to come…