by Kris Fitch
(04/14/04)
My girlfriend gave me a sly smile and said, "You're sick, but I still love you." That was her way of telling me she accepted my spanking fetish and -- what had been more difficult for me to admit -- my strong desire to dominate her.
Spanking had been my "thing" for as long as I could remember. The first stirrings of sexual arousal I felt came from hearing a childhood friend threatened with a hairbrush. From that point on, I knew there was something about spanking that made me feel "funny."
As a teenager, I checked out The Joy of Sex from my hometown library. Getting to a chapter dedicated to fetishes, I read a passage about spanking and felt that special tingling that only accompanied such thoughts. No one had ever explained masturbation to me but I knew what needed to be done. That led to my first, but certainly not my last, spanking-related orgasm.
During my early years of sexual activity, I kept my spanking secret to myself. I enjoyed learning ways to pleasure the boys I dated, but their efforts in return left something to be desired. At times I would find myself getting close to orgasm, but only when my mind went to images or stories regarding a smacked ass would I find myself going over the edge. I'm sure I could have told any of them about my spanking interests and he would have obliged me. But, oddly, at that point I didn't play a role in my own fantasies, which involved either random, faceless people, or friends or people I knew -- not myself.
In college, I dated a man who encouraged me to accept all aspects of my sexuality, including my emerging bisexuality and my interest in "rough sex." I was more comfortable being handled roughly than I was actually asking him to run me over his knee, though. We invited one of my female coworkers into our bed; I was thrilled to be able to explore another area that had existed only in my mind. The three of us were together a few times, until it became obvious that I would rather be with her than him.
Maybe because our relationship had started in the taboo area of a ménage a trois, the sexual path she and I continued on was full of exploration. She told me she really enjoyed being sexually submissive. I had enjoyed being the submissive one in my past sexual relationships. But hearing her say it, and seeing her look up at me with those huge brown eyes, I knew I also had it in me to be the dominant one. Our playing continued to get more rough until one afternoon, I took her over my lap and spanked her with one hand while stroking her clit with the other. Her orgasm shook us both to the core. As she lay there panting and dripping over my thighs, my mind raced with the realization that I had turned spanking from something that existed only in the mind to a real sexual act.
Incidentally, this was about the time that the internet moved into the mainstream. Not yet owning my own computer, I would lock my office door late at night and search out all things spanking. This being the mid-90's, there wasn't the plethora of information there is now. But I would find movie clips that would take 20 minutes to download and watch as my fantasies were shown in grainy, stilted glory. Now I knew I wasn't the only one with this interest.
Over the next five years, I dated people I knew to have a "dark side," sexually speaking. I had learned that people interested in SM/DS as sexual outlets would probably be receptive to the relatively vanilla act of spanking. I alternated dating women and men. Almost as a rule, the men I dated were aggressive and toppish, while women were sexually submissive. I moved between being the bottom and being the top with an amazing ease. I reveled in my bisexuality and my switch persona.
When I started to feel the urge to settle down, I happened to be dating a great guy who was the opposite of me in almost every way. Where I craved excitement and drama, he was stable. Where I was flitting from sexual relationship to sexual relationship, he was a virgin. In the time-honored tradition of opposites attracting, we got married. In doing so, I had to come to terms with the fact that he would never throw me on the bed and ravage me. He would never, out of lust or anger, grab me and turn me over his lap and spank me until I cried. He would play if I asked, but it wasn't a part of who he was. And I thought I could compromise on that. As our marriage continued, I started to realize that I couldn't keep my interest in spanking as a side dish. I also realized that my earlier bisexual experiences were more than just leanings. I was gay. Not only was I lesbian married to a man, I was a spanking enthusiast married to one of the most vanilla people in the world. The marriage couldn't survive those realizations and we amicably divorced.
I decided my next partner would be someone who understood spanking and would be willing to explore all of the things that I wanted her to do and wanted to do to her, however painful they might be. I wasn't willing to compromise again.
Eventually, I did start dating a woman who I knew through work. She had a tough butch exterior but I saw almost immediately that there was an amazing vulnerability right under the surface. She announced right away that she was used to being the dominant one in her relationships. When I told her that wasn't an option with me, her eyes lit up. Almost immediately, she became the submissive I wanted her to be. Our introduction to spanking was simple enough. I would slap her ass if she got bratty or temperamental with me. The first time it happened, she shot me a look of protest and I thought, "Uh oh, this isn't going to work."
We talked about it and she shared that she was spanked frequently as a child. The more she described, the more I realized that she wasn't just spanked, she was beaten. That realization had two effects. The first was my immediate concern for her well-being. I didn't want to make her feel like that child again. I didn't want her to fear me.
The second realization shook me and it took a very long time for me to share it with her: it aroused me to think of her being corporally punished by her father. During our relationship, I had several interactions with her dad and I was mortified that I would envision him taking off his belt to spank her and then be aroused by that thought. I kept it close to my chest for a long time. Because of the closeness of our relationship, and my reactions when her childhood punishment would come up in conversation, she eventually called me on it. With much trepidation, I told her. I was terrified she would be angry that I would use her childhood as fantasy fodder. I told her that on the occasions where those images would come to mind, it was always a situation where she was her current age, not her as a child. I explained that the fantasies had more to do with her submission than the actual abuse. When she smiled and said, "You're sick," in that joking and affectionate way, I felt assured we would be all right.
The level of honesty in our relationship now has led to some amazing sexual spankings. She keeps a notebook to write down her transgressions and when the spankings begin, she tells me what she's done to deserve her punishment. She then asks me to start spanking her. I decide the implement, position and duration and she submits. And no matter how painful, how humiliating, she is always soaked afterward and it leads to amazing sex.
In all my life, I never though I would find a partner who would allow me to incorporate all of who I was into a relationship. I have discovered that my spanking fetish was more than a masturbatory tool. It is something I need to incorporate into an intimate relationship. Now that I have it, I can't imagine a life without it.
