Like so many of my past and all too infrequent posts, this one has sculled around in the background of my thoughts for quite some time, re-surfacing at intervals with what occasionally amount to realisations about myself and my ‘need’ for submission to domestic discipline spankings – and its origins. Nothing other than good fortune has placed me in the hands of a loving wife with whom I am sufficiently intimate to have shared that need, and who was prepared to accept the role of disciplinarian in our relationship.
As fantasies of my submission to spankings have been with me since well before I became aware of my sexuality, I’m rather drawn to the conclusion there is some hard-wiring there that defies explanations derived from childhood experiences. Although those desires became integrated with my sexuality over time and feed into the well-being of our sex life, the truly disciplinary component of our relationship generally happens as a distinct activity with that discipline as its specific objective.
Nor, unlike some other perfectly valid expressions of DD, does it amount to DW being the Head of the Household – but rather, a means by which the balance the power in our relationship is maintained – albeit by my surrender to whatever discipline she determines.
Meanwhile, my recent investigations turned up a couple items that it seems, have been around for some time, but gave me some new insights:
ASSUME THE POSITION: EXPLORING DISCIPLINE RELATIONSHIPS
Yes, this is a dissertation in partial fulfillment of the requirements for a PhD from the College of Arts and Sciences at Georgia State University – and seems an amazingly comprehensive piece of research. As such, it rightfully defies summarisation, but let’s just say, I seem to fit in there somewhere.
The other is a more personal experience – that makes me feel less alone in my kink, but most of all, just so damnably fortunate:
Finding the Courage to Reveal a Fetish
In essence my love language of discipline is simply that DW makes it her priority and devotes her time to regularly and diligently meet my need to be spanked – irrespective of whether I ‘deserve’ it, but all the more so when I do. Severely enough that I approach each with a trepidation and nervousness about the pain she will inflict – be it from hairbrush, paddle or cane – knowing that I always carry the marks of her handiwork, and feeling the aftermath until it’s time for the next.
