A Tail of Two Dreams

Dreams Made Flesh, photo by Antonis DCD, found on Flickr.

I thought this photo captured a sense of self-created violence. There seems to be a desperation in the hands of the shadow, but nothing looms behind the figure to indicate threat.

I've had two interesting spanking dreams this week.

Last weekend, I dreamed that a high school friend and I were still in our teens and had gotten into some kind of trouble. We were to be punished by her two uncles, and the punishment was for us to be caned simultaneously. I was bent over, made to put my elbows and forearms on the seat of a straight-backed chair, and told to await my caning. The uncle in charge of my discipline walked away for a brief moment, then came back swishing the cane forcefully through the air, creating that sweet whish of terror and anticipation. After a few more swishes, he brought his arm back then quickly forward, flicking his wrist and... tapped me.

Now, I am no stranger to the cane tap. It marks the place the cane is to strike, or, when Mr. W is toying with me, it marks the place he wants me to think the cane will land, only to raise a weal elsewhere. But in this dream, after a few of these pretend cane strokes ending in taps, I began to rise up on my tiptoes, wiggling my backside in the air, encouraging the uncle to really let me have it. He did not.

Three nights ago, I dreamed that I was part of a rehabilitation program for violent criminals. The goal of the program was to help them learn to divert their rage before it turned into crime, or death. Lucky me, I had been put in charge of the rehab of a serial killer. I asked him why he needed to kill people, and he told me, "I like knowing I'm hurting them." Well, what top doesn't understand that sentiment? (Not to call all you tops out there akin to serial killers.)

My job was to show him how, with the help of a willing and preferably naked woman, he could unleash his violent tendencies and bask in the knowledge of their pain while remaining a decent citizen. He could be violent, create pain, and let the girl get up and walk away. We talked about these concepts at an outdoor wooden picnic table. Then I got up on the table on my hands and knees and told him to try spanking me.

He was afraid to try it. There were guards nearby, and I think he was a bit abashed. "Go ahead," I coaxed him. He stood to the left of me and whacked me with his right hand. The spank was weak, but I told him, "That's it. Try again." After a few more awkward attempts, he got into the swing of things. He began to wrap his left arm around my waist and the guards started towards us. I shook my head at them and let him restrain me. I knew that it was the only way he was going to learn self-control.

The dream then began to flash in and out, as dreams will do. In the next scene I was standing next to him, demonstrating how to use a belt for spankings, and talking about the difference between belts and leather straps. The dream flashed out, for a moment I was bent over the table while he practiced his lesson upon me, and then this particular part of the dream was over.

I don't think any of us are surprised that even in my dreams, my attitude is, "Come on, do it already!" I'm pretty much over the victim fantasies of my youth. I still find punished brats and naughty nieces hella sexy, but the truth is, these days I'm not aroused by the thought of inflicted discipline. I'm more intrigued by my innate physiological erotic response to spanking and by the idea that we do this because it's what we choose to do. I no longer want to see the schoolgirl sent to the headmaster's office for punishment. I want to see her walk in and demand it.