Mixed feelings

Most of us with an interest in spanking have memories of early encounters with literary, anecdotal or other references to punishments that excited our young minds. For me it was Roald Dahl's autobiography, first, then Tom Sawyer being whipped by that mean teacher in the film version of the story, and also a scene in 'Whale Adventure', by Willard Price, where one of the characters on board a whaling ship is beaten with a cat 'o' nine tails. There were probably others, but those are the ones that stick in the mind.

What is curious about this for me - and this is still true now - is that the sensation when I read or see a scene of that sort is not pure excitement. There is certainly a kind of fascination, the strange mix of wanting to read it slowly to dwell on a rare moment of titillation - so much greater for being unexpected, and probably unintended by the author - and wanting to give in to the thrill of reading it quickly. And then the desire to read it again, of course, and the slight feeling of disappointment that there isn't more detail, and that it isn't as good the second time.

But that's not all I feel. Especially - as in all of the three instances I mentioned - when there is a strong sense of injustice, and of sympathy with the victim, I feel the kind of indignation and sympathy that I might if an actual friend of mine were undeservingly subjected to a similar punishment. I've always had a strong, visceral hatred of injustice - often quite out of proportion to the suffering caused to the object of my compassion. I remember once lying awake unable to get to sleep after somebody in my class - not even someone I knew particularly well - was given a 30-minute detention after school for talking in class. It was the first detention given to anyone in my class and I remember experiencing a kind of wounded shock on his behalf that he could be treated so brutally.

Excessive? Well, I was a sensitive kid. I also wasn't a very childish child; people always found me very serious. I hated that I couldn't be taken seriously by adults (other than my parents), and I think the manifestation of any kind of authority served as a very unwelcome reminder that my classmates and I were children, powerless to defend ourselves as equals. We were, as the Americans say, 'the one-legged guy in an ass-kicking contest'. Nobody likes that.

My flesh still creeps when I hear the word 'punish'. It's horrible. Even the idea of me 'punishing' someone else is uncomfortable (with that specific word involved - the notion is otherwise quite attractive). If I ever heard my friends talk about a 'punishment' meted out by their parents I felt a twinge of revulsion. And I think my particular horror at that word is all to do with the connotation of a completely one-way relationship. With most punishments visited on children, the person doing the punishing gets to decide whether it's deserved; the child being punished doesn't get much say in the matter. There are parents and teachers who work in a slightly different way and give the child a chance to defend themselves, and then it's not quite so alarming, but having that power effectively puts the authority figure beyond accountability. And for me that's the awful thing: the idea that people could be punished wrongly and have no chance to defend themselves. Also, those parents/teachers who will say: 'I think that was wrong. Do you agree? What ought your punishment to be?' are no better; any complicity from the child here is reached under duress. In fact the pretence of 'consensual punishment' makes it even worse. Only those who genuinely want to hear the case for the defence are tolerable; but still, they can never get away from the fact that, owing to their position, they must sit in judgment of their own 'case for the prosecution'. I'm not really criticising it - of course this is an unavoidable situation, and I am not some kind of anti-discipline hippy 'progressive'. But I think a bit of discomfort at the monopolistic nature of one's power over another individual is a healthy thing to have - and as this post suggests, this extends to adult D/s relationships as well as those involving kids.

It's funny thinking through the various strands suggested by this contemplation - most of which hadn't occured to me before I started writing. Weirdly, I think the slight feeling of discomfort (which at its worst can actually go so far as to make me feel quite sick) can't be completely dissociated from the thrill. (What would the worst be, incidentally? Probably if I saw/read of a really harsh punishment of a character I really sympathised with who definitely didn't deserve it, compounded by their being particularly submissive - say in order to protect someone else. Awful. Anyone want to write the story?) When I go online and trawl for stories and videos they don't tug the same strings - partly because they don't have the advantages I mentioned above of being unexpected or unintended, but partly because there is no sympathy for the spankee. If it's a story, she (I don't really read stories involving male bottoms) is a character I haven't invested anything in, who I know perfectly well only exists for my titillation, and frankly where's the fun in that? If it's a video, I know perfectly well she's a model who chose to be there and is doing very nicely out of it. (If I thought there were any possibility that might not be the case, I wouldn't watch the video.) And I think that's why it's never as 'good' as coming across it unexpectedly in a novel, period drama, etc. Witnessing a spanking in real life would be the most exciting and also the most distressing - I would be completely captivated, and probably sickened.

Another thing that occurs to me is that my nascent dominant tendencies probably had a lot to do with the extreme revulsion I always felt, as a child, at being subject to authority, or patronised. Of course all kids hate that to a certain extent, but I wonder whether my particular sensitivity to it - God, I hated being told off - might have had something to do with the lack of a submissive streak. In fact I wonder whether, in general, the kids who seem sensitive and disinclined to do things that will get them in trouble - basically those who seem excessively, even unnaturally resistant to being told off - are often those with dominant tendencies. It would fit, wouldn't it, with the fact that a lot of dominant types (sexually) tend to be quiet, even sometimes a bit moody - generally speaking, sensitive rather than aggressive. Whereas the stereotype of alpha male masculinity - the kids who ran around doing everything, got told off all the time, and grew up into burly rugby players who drink nine pints and then get into fights with anyone they don't like the look of - is surprisingly often associated with secret desires to be forced to wear a nappy then stamped on by leather-clad women wearing stilettos.

That might be a bit facile and maybe it's too hard to generalise about something as complex as the roots of people's sexuality, but I think there's a grain of truth - in a few cases at least, even if it doesn't work as a 'general model'. And now? I'm off to find some pitifully inadequate stories and videos.