The first month I was working in the fetish house, I had a client who was so terrified he could barely get the words out. I knew he wanted a spanking from the note next to his booking information, but none of the words that were coming out of his mouth seemed to resemble that word.
“I just, I don’t know…. I’ve been thinking about it for a long time and, oh god what am I doing here? What must you think of me? It’s just such a horrible thing, I’m not sure what to do…. I just think about it all the time… I should just go.”
His mouth was so dry each word seemed to contain extra syllables. The moisture that should have been in his mouth? Dripping from both pits and creating a slick across his palms. I’m not sure he could have turned the door knob had he tried to leave.
Somehow I convinced him that he should stay. You know, since he was here. And that we could just experiment a bit and see what happened. He refused to pull his pants down, but did agree to remove his wallet from his back pocket. Lucky me!
I lovingly took him over my knee and administered a thorough spanking with my bare hand.
“For his own good.”
“It would make him a better man.”
“It wasn’t something I wanted to do, but it was something he needed, and I cared enough to give it to him.”
He went on to be known by everyone in the area who was willing to take money in exchange for deviant acts as Spanky. He turned up at every party, booked with every new girl and sang the praises of therapy through the loving act of spanking.
In the end, he even let some lucky girl pull his pants down so she could administer a bare-assed spanking to teach him a real lesson. I have no idea where he is now, but I’m am fairly certain, that where ever it is, there is spanking involved.
Over the years I have collected quite the arsenal of spanking instruments. Everything from nice wooden spoons found in the kitchen aisle, leather belts purchased in vintage stores, hand made wooden paddles, lovingly sanded as to remove each and every sharp edge or rough spot, with the word PENANCE burned into it’s beautiful polished surface. That one came wrapped in a velvet bag.
I have pulled countless men and women across my lap to teach them a lesson.
Because they needed it.
Because it would teach them wrong from right.
Because I care.
But at home? Oh hell no! I’m a liberal, garden growing, whole food eating, attachment parenting, baby wearing, co-sleeping mommy.
We don’t spank our children.
Or… do we?
Two weeks ago, while trying to change Monkey’s diaper which was filled with a record braking amount of poop, he decided it would be great fun to try to kick me in the head.
(How exactly does that mental process go exactly? Cars, toys, poop, God it stinks in here. HEY! There’s mommy! I love her! Hug! I wonder what would happen if I kicked her in the head?)
I asked him to stop. I told him to stop. I tried to explain to him that he needed to stop kicking so I could change his diaper. I threatened time out. Finally, out of frustration and an intense need not to clean poo off the walls, and myself, I smacked him on the one clean area of his butt that I could find.
Instantly He decided that perhaps kicking me in the head was not the best plan of action for his afternoon.
A week later in another situation, after several time outs, I administered another smack on the butt. Again. Instant reevaluation of his planned activities.
Even though I was happy with the results, I felt an intense guilt for letting it get that far. Had I been a better mother, maybe he would have stopped after one time out instead of entertaining himself in the corner for a dozen or so two minute increments.
I didn’t tell my husband that I had done it.
Flash forward another week. I’m at BlogHer and I get a call from the Husband. Monkey has been out of control and he has finally, after numerable time outs, had to resort to spanking him. Just once so far. But the results were… immediate.
Not that either of us wants to become The Spanking Household.
That evening as I’m talking to Carrien from She Laughs At The Days who is wearing the most adorable baby, she mentions that she had a post go live at BlogHer about spanking.
I sink into my chair, the guilt biting at my heart. I’m certain her kids have never been kicked out of gym child care for trying to sit on other kids. (Um. True story. Look for a face sitting post in the near future.)
But wait? What is that? She wrote a PRO spanking post? But? She is wearing a baby. Does not that not indicate an attachment parenter and all that it entails? Like? Not beating your kids?
We had a long conversation, which, did indeed include a lot of giggling because, Dudes? She is a freaking sunday school teacher and was schooling me on spanking.
How can that not be funny? Hilarious even.
She wrote two very informative posts on spanking and discipline. Among her points? It gives the child the immediate consequences for choices they make. I think you should read the posts in their entirety to understand her choices and why she thinks spanking is empowering to children. It’s in two parts.
I don’t plan on ever bringing PENANCE home to meet Monkey, but I do think he responds better to the threat of a spanking much quicker and with a longer last effect then he does to a whole afternoon of time outs. A quick spanking and we can both get on with our day.
Were you spanked as a child? Do you spank as a parent? Or do you just spank as a lover?
And yes. If you have been waiting for the right time to flame me? This is probably your moment. Have fun! Be creative!