The Weight of the World, Part Two

In one of my earliest posts, I wrote about spanking being a transformative experience, allowing me to regress into a little girl for a while, letting go of all my worries, and then regaining my womanhood and "the weight of the world." Well, the weight of the world became a little too heavy for a while, hence the hiatus. I disconnected from my body; I was all mind, all worries, all the time.

In my quest to free myself from troubles, my thoughts became preoccupied with punishment and how it could release me. Sex didn't just take a backseat, it got out of the car. I was surprised every time a kiss led to love-making and not a lashing. So I decided to take a break from writing about spanking, from, honestly, obsessing about it. Then it became a break from everything: reading, sleeping, focusing...

Something changed this weekend. Some piece of me returned. I was gone from myself long enough, I suppose. In celebration of my return to myself, I even changed my hair color back to its natural shade. I've spent so long escaping myself that I had forgotten how good it feels to just come home.

Fortunately for all of us, a favorite part of my home is the spankings my husband gives me. But whether I'm using them to escape a bad day or my grown-up self, I realized that to him, I am always a woman. His woman. And the spankings are to say I love you, I love this thing we do, I love that you love it, too.

My favorite fetish is still the punishment of the schoolgirl by the headmaster. My fantasies will probably always return to that. But I'm going to try something new. The next time I'm bottom-up for one of my beloved beatings, I'm going to try to take it like a woman. A strong, tender, intelligent, bruising, brave, bright-red bottomed woman.