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My Three Scenes
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Subject: My Three Scenes
As said in an earlier post, my wife, E., and I occasionally
spank. Our scene is simple, a paddle, the bedroom, I naked on the
receiving end, E. giving. I enjoy the simulation of the paddling;
E., quite timid in real life, enjoys giving them. We sometimes vary
the scene just a little; the result is a completely different
interaction between use. Its quite remarkable. Much like cooking:
the same ingredients used differently yield a completely different
dish.
I'll describe our three scenes but first I'll sketch the where
they take place. Our house is a two story house with the main
bedrooms upstairs. The visitors bedroom is downstairs and collects
the usual odds and ends we don't know where else to put. Beside the
exercise bike, boxes of toys, and bookshelfs loaded with old college
texts, photo albums and outdated medical journals, are the two key
items: a modern queen size bed with a low wooden frame and a heavy
butcher block coffee table. The table weighs about 75 pounds, is 16
inches high and 4 feet long, 20 inches wide.
The "school" scene
I strip, kneel on the bed frame, bend over, place my hands on the
mattress, and wait. E. comes in tells me why she is spanking me,
tells me to count, picks up the paddle and administers the wacks.
Crack. "One." Crack. "Two." Crack. "Three." Crack. "Four." By now
I can no longer maintain my position and I've moved my hips forward
to lessen the blows. E. just waits until I resume the position and
then continues. Crack. "Five." I twist by ass to receive the blow
in a slightly different part. Crack. "Six."
This continues... I must find the courage to straighten back up;
knowing full well that this will be met with pain. In a sense, I am
dictating my own punishment. The restraints that keep me in position
are purely psychological.
E. enjoys this the most because she says she has a sense of how
hard she is punishing me. (For E., the major problem is hitting
someone she loves, its a conflict she never has quite resolves.
Maybe that's why the sessions always start with a reason to be
punished and usually occur when she is slightly "stressed out.")
The "Punishment" Scene.
A slight change has been made. The room, the paddle are the same
but I take the heavy coffee table and put it on the bed. One set of
legs is on the mattress and the other firmly on the bed frame. I
cover the table with a blanket and bend over the table. My groin is
on the end, my hands grasp the front legs and I hold on. And that is
exactly it, no longer do I have to completely control my body, no
longer must I force myself to straighten back up to receive the next
blow. I just hold on and take the spanking.
E. starts to spank. In this position, I often watch, via a
mirror, E. swing the paddle, watch my ass cheeks bounce and my
hips jump. The body seems to belong to someone else. Well, that is
true for the first dozen or so, then I begin to think that I can't
take it anymore, turn my head, close my eyes and feel the paddle.
The number of the blow hisses out between my clenched teeth. The
world is gone and there is only me and the pain and the ultimate
question: can I take it?
E. doesn't like these as much, she says she sometimes gets
frighten by the grimace on my face and is so afraid she is hurting
me. Yet at other times she "loses" it and I becomes someone else,
such as a difficult intern at work. Rarely do I bruise much, but
these are the times I do. To me, the bruises are badges and days
later I'll look at them and smile. I almost have to hide them from
E. If she sees them afterwords, she feels as if she hurt me and
often promises "I'll never hit you that hard again." (Luckly she
forgets.)
The "Prison" scene.
The coffee table is the same but is now tied to the bed with some
red nylon tie-downs purchased from the _Home Depot_ hardware chain.
Using blue nylon webbing, I tie one knee to one leg of the table and
the other knee to the other. One tie goes around my waist and
another around my shoulders (this damn tie always comes loose!). E.
then ties my hands behind me using a leg from an old pair of
pantyhose. My feet are no longer on the floor; I can wiggle but not
move far. Oh the difference! No longer am I in any sort of control,
try as I might, I just have to take it. Before the other scenes, I
often have an erection (which quickly goes away once the paddle finds
its mark), but now I tremble as if very cold.
As the paddle strikes, I buck and fight the bonds, I wiggle and
squirm to avoid the pain. It does no good. (The first time we tried
this, I didn't tie the table down; the table and I flipped onto the
floor and I ended up underneath it. Talk about coitus interruptus!
End'o scene.) For me this is a total loss of control, no longer do I
force myself to stand and take it or try to hold on. The ties are
now physical and, even with every ounce of effort I can muster, I
have not the strength to break them. Not even the luxury of having
something to hold onto.
We haven't done this enough to establish a real pattern. E. was
a little surprised at my wiggling and my intense reaction. Maybe
there is too much responsibility on her part. She tries, but so far
cannot really paddle me. (Well, not quite true. You guys know even
a lightly swung paddle hurts.)
So what we have here is a spectrum of discipline; ranging from
me, the bottom, having control to having no control. My wife, going
from some control to complete control. All with a little change in
the scene. It would be naive to say this covers the spectrum of S/M
to B&D. Our scenes are too simple and contain only a fraction of the
classical elements of S/M and B&D; however, I think they point out
some of the differences between S/M and B&D. And the microcosm of
our interactions reflects a few of the sublime threads runing
throughout the a.s.b. (I can't believe I just wrote that last
sentence, I'll stop the bullshit now. I promise.)
These scenes have evolved over the course of 4 or 5 years. At
first, once we discovered that we both had spanking fantasies, it was
one of us over each others knee for a few playful slaps with hands
and then with a hairbrush. I began to discover, that besides the
intellectual thrill of spanking, the pain simulated me. After a
spanking, our lovemaking is intense. I've been VERY lucky to have a
wife who understands this and even enjoys it. We also understands
that we can't spank all the time: even if I could physically take it,
it would become less intense and lose the "naughtiness."
There is the eternal question of why I enjoy pain. I could answer
with lots of psychologic jargon or blame it on my Lutheran upbringing
and my real school experiences. But there is a very good reason.
The pleasure afterwards. Not just the pleasure of an orgasm, but the
total relaxation that comes after an intense session.
Also, what will the future bring to us. Are we going to evolve
more elaborate scenes? Or will this fade? Right now, the kids, (the
oldest approaching 8), are beginning to put a crimp in our style.
The seven year old goes to bed too late and we are afraid she might
wake up and wander downstairs some day. Saying we are hanging
pictures might work with a 4 year old, but not a seven year old. So
we lock the bedroom door and try to make sure she is asleep. Its one
thing to be overheard by your friends and another by your kids.
Oh well, back to the old grind. Now that is pain...x
"Spenser Patel"
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