Lack of Spank

I continue to read many of the posts written by those who get spanked, plus the few written by those who do the spanking. There seems to be a general theme among the spankees, one that indicates they don’t get as many spankings as they wish, or feel they need.

I’ve been contemplating the reasons for this. Maybe I’m not reading the right blogs, but it seems to me that those who get the right amount – not too many and not too few – don’t feel the need to write about it. There is always a certain longing in the blogs I read.

Of course, I understand that longing, and that’s what I write about, too. The aching that comes is almost physical. My entire body seems to throb and quiver, my skin is more sensitive, my hands are shaky, my breath comes faster, I feel faint – even my bowels and bladder are in an uproar, and no, it’s not the flu.

When the craving is strongest, my head is in a fog, my eyes glaze over, my thoughts are focused, I am completely distracted from whatever is going on around me. I’m in a distant place, and I fear it is noticeable when I am with friends.

No one has said, “Are you dreaming about being spanked again?” No one has come to my rescue and said, “Here! Come over my knee and I will relieve your agony.” Not one soul wonders why I am so distracted or worries about my vague responses when I do rouse myself long enough to answer.

The need we have defies all bounds of sexuality. It is not about any of the “isms” of our lives, but rather it is a deep call to connect with the basic drives of the id, a necessity for survival, infantile in its origins yet adult in its satisfaction.

Other duties call me today, but I am not present to those requirements. Only this one essential act can bring me back to life. If I do those activities that are required of me, I could stave off the yearning of my body, but I don’t want to. I take pleasure in that luscious feeling of hunger for the intimate pain only a spanking can bestow.

He will be here in three weeks – can I survive?

Yes, I can and I will.