Fear

I feel sure that growing up as I did in the 50s and 60s when corporal punishment was still very much the done thing, I was fascinated and fearful of what happened to some children. Since it didn't happen to me, but supposedly happened all about me, I think I grew up with a feeling that whatever it was, it was to be feared, and avoided. Then, the fear became eroticized and the next thing you know there is a middle-aged woman writing over 900 entries in an e-journal about her thoughts and feelings around that!

Many of my fantasies include fear as their base. I never launch into a spanking in my thoughts. Never. I'm told I'm going to get a spanking. It's a waiting sort of experience first. I'm put up against a wall to wait or told to report on Sunday at 3 pm, maybe five or so days away. Perhaps I have to report to the Master at the end of the school day. They seem to know that inducing my fear of the spanking is the real correction; reminding me minute by minute that they are the ones in control. They are the ones who will administer pain in order to make their point.

It seems so close to an impossibility that I could ask for a spanking, it practically is an impossibility. Yes, I once asked to be spanked, but just that once, when my craving overwhelmed my fear. Late 40s and having thought this stuff for decades I simply had to know what it felt like to be spanked. I'm fortunate that my husband didn't make it a 'Claytons' sort of spanking. It was the real deal. It hurt, it stung, it had me flailing around and screaming my head off. And afterwards, man, was I relieved and happppppy. I flew.

I often walk the dog late. She gets nervous around most other dogs and if I walk her late she doesn't need to feel fearful. There are overhead lights one way, just little lights along the path the other way,  and when I look left it is quite, quite dark. I imagine it is the woods and I test myself with the thought, 'Do you have the courage, little girl, to walk into the dark woods where there might be wolves?' I am seriously terrified at the thought, and I just can't do it, but I like to play with the fear. I look left, but I walk right.

I'm still the little girl in the red cloak, frightened of the big, bad Wolf, but so incredibly entranced by him at the same time. I suppose it won't change now. I have no reason to imagine it ever could.