Thursday, March 22, 2007
Franks Asks "Why?"
“Young Lady, do you know why you’re here?”
“Yes, sir. I broke the rules.”
“And do you know what happens to people here who break the rules?”
“They get punished, sir.”
“And how do they get punished?”
“They get a spanking.”
“Correct!” He paused. “And, young lady, how exactly are they punished?”
She swallowed hard. “They have to take their pants down and get spanked with the paddle on their bare bottoms, sir.”
“That’s right.” He stood up and took the paddle down from where it was hanging on the wall. “Your behavior lately has been disgraceful. You have been utterly irresponsible and have acted like the rules apply to everyone else except you. For that, you are going to be paddled especially severely.”
He walked around the desk to where his charge was seated. “And,” he said, “you will be naked while you are punished.”
She swallowed hard again and shivered.
“Now, young lady, stand up and remove your clothes. And then turn around and bend over that chair, and get ready for a good, hard, long paddling.”
Now that I have your attention, I shall leave the remaining details of this little snippet to your undoubtedly fruitful imagination. Feel free to write your own story for your own blog around it. After all, I cannot claim copyright to it since I don’t exist.
But while you are here, perhaps you can join me in doing a bit of pondering. Last weekend, the famous Bonnie, author of My Bottom Smarts, posed the following dilemma that she received from one of her loyal readers:
I've been married for eleven years to a wonderful, loving man. He is completely dedicated to our son and to me. He has a good job and no real vices. My only complaint is that he has zero interest in spanking me. He claims that's "just not us." I feel trapped between my love for my husband and the kink that has always lived within me.
Thinking about this, I began to, well, ponder. During my pondering, several questions entered my imaginary brain:
- What would I do if I had not have married a spanko wife?
- Why do we spankos often feel that we are somewhat “weird” or even “sick?”
- How does our “spanko-ness” define the who we are? How does it affect the rest of our lives?
- Finally, why are we spankos?
It is the last of these questions that I shall begin to address tonight. Although I’m afraid that I may only pose more questions than I answer.
I suppose to begin to explore the question of what makes a spanko, one must start in one’s youth. For instance, I first discovered a curious stirring when I saw a girl in my neighborhood, whom I did not know, spanked by her mother. I was perhaps twelve years of age. But what was it that made this particularly spanking memorable? I never enjoyed being spanked by my parents, or on the couple of occasions when I was paddled at school. I enjoyed knowing that my siblings were being spanked because it meant that, at that time, I was a “better” child in my parents eyes than they were. I did not, however, wish to witness those spankings. Further, we were never spanked on the bare bottom, or with implements.
So why was I so curious? Yes, it was a girl being spanked, but she was about the same age as my younger sister. The mother was attractive, but at the age of twelve, I was not interested in “old” women, which was anyone high-school age and up. Was it the approach of puberty? Or was it, as a number of bloggers have postulated, something that I was born with? Or, is there some combination of nature and nurture, i.e. both a biological and environmental factor, that causes us to manifest ourselves as spankos? It would have been interesting to have been with one of my friends, or perhaps several, while witnessing the afore-mentioned spanking, and to somehow be able to learn if they had grown up to be spankos. But, alas, I was alone.
Still more questions assault me. If I had have been spanked more frequently as a child, would I still be a spanko. My childhood spankings ended when I was perhaps ten. Had I been spanked when I was older, would I still be a spanko? If my parents had spanked me with a paddle or a belt, perhaps on my bare bottom, would I still be a spanko? Would I be more of a spanko?
Tomorrow, I shall attempt to offer my own personal analysis to the question of what exactly it is that makes a spanko a spanko. I still fear that you shall find my explanation to be lacking, because I expect that I will agree with you. But, at least, it will give you something with which to ponder.
I shall leave you with one final question: Is pondering fantastic?
For the record, I have no desire to be famous. In fact, I sometimes envy your anonymity.
As for the nature versus nurture question, you probably won't be surprised to learn that I've given it quite a bit of thought. I believe there is a inborn component. I suspect it's more an inclination than a deterministic destiny. When I think about spankos I know, some were never spanked as children, some only mildly, some severely, and a few were downright abused. Yet, they are all enthusiastic spankos today.
To me, spankoism is a akin to a personality trait, like adaptability, for example. It can be developed to a certain degree, but for the most part, we possess what is granted to us.
This is entirely speculation, of course, and I'm open to the suggestion that I'm wrong. But it fits the facts as I see them.
Have a splendid weekend!
Bonnie
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