I've muted and bound the schoolgirl inside me for a bit.This winter, I have become vulnerable. Maybe this is the result of the neverending flu bug. Maybe it's having a birthday and getting older. Or maybe it's just being too exhausted after the long days I've been working. By the time I get home, I've already spent twelve hours being a different version of myself. The need to playact any further is gone.
The vulnerability has cast itself as an inability to separate myself from a spanking. No longer am I saved by the bad girl inside me who takes me from myself, taking the punishment for me and then leaving me with the afterglow. No longer is my husband the stern headmaster, albeit a bit of a naughty one himself, set upon punishing and then seducing his favorite student. If anything, the only character I feel like is a perved out Julia Roberts in Notting Hill: "I'm just a girl, standing in front of a boy, asking him to spank her."
My internal roleplay gone, I take my punishments less graciously. Put simply, were my life an Amy Winehouse song, she'd be singing, "He tried to take me over his lap, I said no, no no." I squeal constantly. I have actually found myself making such a fuss that I want to tell my self to be quiet and take my strokes like a proper young lady. He doesn't even have to say it for me anymore! I now mentally chastise myself.
The result of this change is that the scene becomes much sexier, and much dirtier. It's the honesty I have to have with myself, I think. Once my cries of protest have awarded me nothing but more strokes, the heat and the wetness that the spanking incites are things I have to own. If I'm not a slutty seventeen-year-old trying to end her punishment early by flashing her pussy at her teacher, then that's me all dripping wet and screaming so loudly that I have to bite my own wrist to mute myself. When something hurts espcially, I'll curse and pout and, quite simply, have a far more honest reaction than when I'm trying to keep myself in check as a schoolgirl. It's freeing and terrifying at once. For all the time I've spent undressed in my life, I've never been so naked.
Don't get me wrong, the schoolgirl inside me isn't gone. She's suspended, not expelled. I've had this blog for just over half a year now, and if nothing else, it has enabled me to dig ever deeper into my psyche and become comfortable with who and what I am. I still have my hang-ups; I had a conversation recently that kept me from writing here for a while because I literally had to get over myself and a sudden discomfort I had with being so exposed. That, too, is a part of this winter's vulnerability. As readers, you may all know me better than I know myself, and that is strange and uncomfortable, but fantastic.
I started this blog for my husband, both to be sexy and to share with him the thoughts that are formed better with my hands than with my tongue. It turns out the present wasn't so much a naughty blog as it was a way to fully become the woman he married, the woman he knows I am even when I only want to be that little girl, the woman he spanks, and spanks, and spanks, seemingly constantly these days, because it's who I am and it's what I want. And as if that's not 100% good enough, he took me shopping last night and we bought the beginnings of a new schoolgirl uniform. When I'm finished with all this vulnerability whatnot, that naughty girl is in for it.
There's something about winter that always makes me feel so vulnerable. Sometimes it interferes with my kink. Last month and the winter before last I couldn't even play. Sometimes I think the vulnerability just seems to turn me into a pain slut who wants to be spanked non-stop.
ReplyDeleteAfter well over three years of blogging now, I find myself willing to be more sexual, more explicit. But every now and then there is the realization that tens of thousands of people are reading the most intimate details of my sex life and it does cause me to withdraw for awhile. Having a partner who is frequently uncomfortable with how much I share exacerbates that.
But for some reason I keep coming back. And probably for the same reason as you: self-realization. I think and communicate with my fingers and just maybe, I'm a better lover because of it.
Thoughtful, intriguing, fascinating post.
ReplyDeleteThere's only a few who delve as deeply into the psychology of this complex fetish, and with such intelligence and grace, and sexyness, as you do.
Dave
Interesting post, Abby, and it inspired interesting comments. I won't leave one of those, but I absolutely agree with Dave that it makes a big difference in the community to have bloggers who have sufficient self-knowledge to probe deeply and the willingness to share what you've learned. Thank you.
ReplyDelete-Indiana
Thanks Indiana! I love delving into my psyche--and I get a kick iout of taking a break from doing so with posts like the "Booty" one. If nothing else, this blog has shown me how my spanko side fits in with the rest of me, and how it's all just pieces of the puzzle, not two separate puzzles. Thank you for reading. :-)
ReplyDelete