“Enjoy your spanking adventures”, the note reads.
The handwritten note accompanies a parcel from a sex toy company. Inside it, there is a black paddle that I have to try and review. As I caress its handle, I close my eyes and my mind is suddenly flooded with imagery of my favorite spanking scenario. I love the sensation of being in someone else’s hands, literally. There’s something about it that makes me so incredibly horny.
I take a deep breath as I feel a pulsation between my thighs that resembles a heartbeat. Needless to say that I am also excited about my future spanking endeavors. But I doubt that I will be needing any implements at all because according to my experience, there’s nothing quite like a bare-palmed spank.
In fact, all I require is a willing spanker.
Once this basic requirement is fulfilled, to set the scene I have to know why I’m being spanked. It doesn’t have to be an elaborate role play, but I need to know what to do to press the spanker’s buttons so to speak and somehow control the game.
My preferred punishment pose is leaning over a desk or a table. This way I can be sure that I’m providing my spanker with the best possible view of my rump, which will hopefully inspire his worship of it. My attire is also an important element. It must be a skirt, and of course, I am commando underneath.When my spanker discovers this all important detail, it provokes another sweet telling off.
When it comes to the actual spanking part, there are several things to take into consideration. No fabrics or implements should stand in the way of that vital cheek-palm contact that I crave so much. This isn’t just for the sensation, but also for the singular sound that a skin to skin slap provides. It never fails to seduce my aural senses.
Spanks must be administered to the fleshiest part of the buttock. Then, after that first slap, the palm of the hand should remain on the skin for a few moments, cupping the cheek, almost acting like a shock absorber. The next spank should be aimed at the other buttock and the game should continue like this, that is to say, alternating cheeks. They should start off lightly and gradually become more intense.
From time to time, the spanker should trace his fingers downwards towards the spankee’s vulva, and lightly caress her labia, just to check how wet she is getting. In other words, just how much does it turn her on to misbehave? In my case, it’s usually rather a lot.
Another technique that drives me crazy is when my skilled spanker caresses and squeezes the target area of my derriere beforehand. It creates a false sense of relaxation, which makes the slap even more significant when it finally does come.
Dialogue is also important. I love being told that my behavior is disgraceful and to be reminded of how much I’m driving my strict spanker crazy. It makes me feel powerful. Another source of delirium is the repetitive tensing and relaxing of my pelvic floor muscles that is inevitable during a spanking session. It often feels like hands-free masturbation, keeping me on the edge of ecstasy.
After all these criteria are ticked off in a spanking checklist in my mind, it doesn’t take long until my thoughts cause my warm Venusian nectar to trickle down my legs. I open my eyes and put the paddle back in its box and feel the need to place my right hand between my throbbing thighs. I sigh as I notice my sweet, musky arousal in the air, reminding me of how much my rump needs to be reprimanded.
In order to enjoy the pleasures of the spankee’s perspective, I guess I will have to do something drastic to deserve it.