Discovering My Spankomasochism (Video)

I'm a spanko. I'm fairly certain I've always been a spanko. Insomuch as I can anticipate, I'll always be a spanko. On occasion, I am also a masochist.

It isn't very often, and it isn't the driving force behind most of my kink, but it does inhabit a portion of my psyche. I'm glad this part of me exists, and I've never been disappointed when it makes an appearance.

The process was gradual. There was a time when the term "sadomasochism" frightened me and made me divert my attention to something cognitively safer. I didn't associate it with the comforts of "my" kink. I didn't identify with it.

Then I got to know Malignus, who is a dominant, spanko, and also a sadist. I assumed I appealed to his dominant spanko side and that other girls in his life fulfilled his sadistic interests. I met him in person in February 2012 at a small cabin party in Indiana. He gave me a bedtime spanking on the first night, and there were plenty of other terrific spankings that weekend as well. On the last day, before I had to leave, I asked him to give me a "significant" spanking, one that would push me and leave me feeling like I'd just come from a spanking party. He chose to use a cane that had a special meaning for us, and he laid into me.  :)


It hurt more than I expected, but I also surprised myself. In addition to the endorphin-charged happy I received from the experience, I found my greatest satisfaction in another aspect of our scene. It was the little cues he gave off that I honed in on and absorbed. The sound of his chuckle when I'd cry out in pain, the tone of his voice before doing something he knew would be mean, or the way he looked at me when I caught his eye after a particularly hard stroke. I distinctly recall how proud I felt as I fell into his arms and knew I had to be the strongest girl in the world. I was invincible and beautiful and perfect. I couldn't help but laugh.

Afterward, as I was sitting in his lap with the rest of the group, he brought up the option of rubbing alcohol "aftercare." Suddenly possessed by bizarro-ellee, I leapt up to find some and brought the bottle back like a trophy. It stung as he poured it over my bottom, and even more when he spanked it dry again. It was a strange feeling, wanting so badly to hurt for someone. Once finished, I made him a sandwich. I do believe it was the first of many sandwiches I've made Malignus. :)

After that, I began to think about what drives me to explore my limits. Why did I enjoy the pain, specifically? It was more than just submission, although the scene tapped into that as well. There was something else, though. I distinctly enjoyed suffering for him. I wasn't sure what that implied, but I immediately knew it was the truth.

Since then, I've developed quite a fondness for men who enjoy hurting me. To be honest, I wasn't sure it would apply to others. It didn't at first, and it now only applies to a few particularly wonderful sadists who are much more than just that. Maybe masochism isn't even the right word, because it isn't the pain that makes me so happy. It's feeling the energy that comes from someone I'm not afraid of take pleasure in inflicting pain I want to endure. He enjoys it more because he feels the energy I express while I absorb it. It creates this fantastic feedback loop that ultimately comes down to a mutual goal of happiness. And that's the feeling I crave. It's intense and overwhelming and makes me feel wonderful about myself.

It's these scenes that end in laughter, not tears, and I laugh because I can't feel anything other than joy.