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I just remember being fascinated, silently listening to the pounding smacks and crying, accompanied by the tone and rumble of the adult's voice who administered them.In my early 20's I'd casually play spanking games with some of the men I dated...these were fun and caused great laughter between us, but these were nothing compared to the real spanking fantasies in my head." and instead of looking up the word "spanking" in the dictionary (which I had done ever since I could remember) I typed in the word "spanking".Within a matter of seconds, my screen was filled with a long list of names whose profiles contained detailed descriptions of spanking scenarios, fantasies and familiar phrases.
Soon, I was standing at his gate, waiting for the passengers to come off the plane. I relaxed because he WANTED me to..it helped a great deal to know that he was in control. Now I began to say "Ouch" "Ow" and other verbal responses to the pain. This time with the belt and I continued to try to stifle my tears. He kissed my forehead and continued to talk to me softly and rock me, while tenderly patting my bottom again, which by now was glowing comfortably in a pulsating and pleasant warmth. But instead of arguing with him, which would have been my natural impulse, my hand grasped my spoon and dipped it into my soup bowl and the next thing I knew, I was swallowing that delicious potato soup. A year later, to this very day, I still catch him on line and we chat.
I never understood that fantasy, but I knew it was strong enough to stay with me and grow in strength, as I grew in strength.
I had friends while growing up who frequently got spanked, and all of my senses were keenly tuned to the sound of the word SPANKING.
My mouth dropped open and I read on and on with hungry eyes.
Finally, I discovered that I was not alone in my fantasy, to my utter amazement and joy.