Spanking Discussion
Archive for
Blending Sadism and Masochism – Essay
A friend asked the question “Can a masochist be a sadist?”
This, I think, is a deceptively simple question. By that I mean that if one unpacks it, it has a number of levels to it or points of view at least.
When I first hear the question, I initially began analyzing it in terms of what I know about psychology, simply puzzling out whether the two traits could occur simultaneously within the same individual. The possibility doesn’t seem unreasonable at all. Perhaps qualified psychologists could set me straight on that point.
Another angle to look at, though, is on an experiential level. I’m not so much concerned with definitions or boundaries as I am what it could mean to an individual. I had to examine this very closely myself, because my particular sexual sadism is very driven by empathy. It is in knowing a woman is feeling the pain and especially if I see it in her face, that I become most aroused.
This scene from the TV show “Community” is one of my favorites in mainstream even though you can’t see her butt.
But she does give great face and great voice 
She’s a good actress (assuming the switching wasn’t real… hmm… imagine the rehearsals… okay I wandered off. Where was I?) A yes. The pain.
She was clearly in pain and so my empathy kicked in and I was quite aroused. Now if empathy is the ability to put yourself in someone else’s place and almost “feel what they feel”, then my arousal is partly based on imagining for myself what she’s going through. I can’t call it masochism really, because it’s not a conscious imagining and if it were, I’d be imagining being her and not me. But it’s not a big stretch to imagine sadism and masochism coexisting in the same experience.
I really don’t understand masochism on an experiential level, but I can extrapolate from my own sadism, and indeed my sadism is founded on that extrapolation in the form of empathy.
So stretching my imagination further, if I attempt to imagine myself to be a masochist, the only way I can even get close to that space, is to romanticize the suffering I might experience. I can be the handsome hero, captured by the enemy compound and they send a beautiful and sadistic interrogator to get information from me. Understanding how much I like spanking or whipping an attractive woman, I can imagine how she might feel about spanking or whipping me if she finds me attractive and happens to be sadistic in that way.
So now, occupying this pseudo-masochistic (HA, that sounds like ‘sadomasochistic’. Did I coin a new term? Suggested definition: not actually a masochist, but willing to pretend…) space, how would sadism enter into it? I suppose if as a sadist, I’m focused on the masochist’s pain and reaction, then as a masochist wouldn’t I be focused on the sadist and her reaction? And I imagine that as she becomes more and more aroused with the experience of spanking or whipping me, I can imagine empathizing with that and therefore, exhibiting a sadism through her.
It’s a fascinating experiential knot 
Thank you for the question, Alias
Everyone, let me know what you think. What’s your experience? Are you a switch? How do you experience that? If you play mostly or all on one side of the power exchange coin, tell us about your experience with ‘the other side’ even if it’s only in your imagination.
Who knows, you may persuade me to share my ‘other side’ fantasy
-Quai Franklin
“Namaste”
“Spanking Elisha” – New Audio-Included Version
Download the audio here – quality level is only medium (using logitech headset and not my music studio).
Text:
Elisha Cuthbert came to visit me last night… Nope not in reality, but in a dream. I suppose she visits many a wishful thinking hetero-oriented men. She is a wonderful example of that rare combination of extremely cute, beautiful, and sexy – three of my favorite aesthetic metrics for women. The most important metric for me is “spankability”. Chances are, if a woman has a combination of cuteness and sexiness, she’s likely to be quite spankable. But in my experience, spankability is it’s own aspect – mysterious and inexplicable. And for me, Elisha has it like crazy.
Besides that, based on her character on “Happy Endings”, she seems to have this very matter-of-fact/girl-next-door way about her that is amazingly attractive. To my twisted mind, she does seem like the type that would approach me as she did and reveal that she’s been curious about spanking for some time now.
I got up to answer the doorbell.
“Quai? Aren’t you Quai,” she asked.
“Yes,” I said, very surprised to see Elisha Cuthbert at my door. How did she know who I was and where I lived. Why me?
“I’m sorry to disturb you at home, but I found out from some mutual twitter friends that you were an admirer of mind and… well…” she continued.
“I am an admirer of yours. Come on in and make yourself comfortable,” I said.
I sat her down with me at the kitchen table. We had tea.
I asked her, “What was it some of our mutual twitter friends said about me?”
She swallowed hard, screwing up her courage for a moment. “I hear you’re really good at spanking.” It was almost a question. “And I’m curious about spanking.”
“Well thank you for the compliment,” I said “I suppose I have been known as someone knowing his way around a woman’s bottom.”
She smiled and blushed, her fair skin almost aglow with the promise of what her reddened bottom might look like.
“See,” she continued, “I’ve always wondered what a spanking felt like and some of my girlfriends are fond of it from their boyfriends. If you’re willing to help me, I’d like to find out what it’s like without having to get a boyfriend. If you know what I mean?”
“I do know what you mean, Elisha. I’m not in the market for a girlfriend either. I’m quite satisfied by my relationship with my wife and soulmate.”
She seemed visibly relieved. I smiled at her.
“The best way to learn is by doing, I think,” I said, beginning her lesson. “Stand up and come over to the couch with me.”
She followed me over to the living room couch. I sat down in the center of it.
“Lie down across my lap,” I told her. She started to have a bit of a giggle fit and felt somewhat embarrassed by this.
“It’s quite alright, Elisha. This is rather an awkward situation. Even when you’re used to it like I am, it’s usually a little awkward when you play with someone for the first time.
She nodded her understanding and then began lowering herself to the couch cushion next to me. She went down on her knees on the cushion, stopping to stare into my eyes for a moment as if to say, “I’m trusting you. Please don’t abuse that.”
I smiled back at her and said, “You can trust me. Besides not wanting to be a bad person, I do not want to be the one dumbass that ruined spanking for Elisha Cuthbert!”
She giggled more at this, but then continued going face down across my lap. Once she was lying there, I rubbed her back and bottom in a reassuring yet sensual way, After just patting her bottom some, I soon began to actually spank her hard enough for them to be considered spanks. She “ow’d” and yelped some as I increased the speed and intensity of the spanking. The cheeks of her face got flushed and she was breathing heavier. It appeared her already sensual lips became even more moist and full. I stopped and rubbed her bottom for a bit.
“Now I need to pull your pants down. It’s up to you whether you want to keep your panties on. I’ll understand if you do.” I said.
She thought for a moment and said, “for today’s lesson, I want to keep them on.”
I encircled her waist with my left arm, gently raising her body enough to unbutton her pants and pull them down. I caught a glimpse of her face as expressions of nervousness, curiosity, and desire all flashed through.
“Now,” I said spanking her sweet spot. “This is what we call the sweet spot. It is closest to what for most women is their most erogenous area. I’m going to spank there until I find your rhythm. Then the magic starts to happen.”
“Magic, huh…” she said, in a somewhat challenging tone. “Do your best!”
I began alternately spanking each cheek on the sweet spot after raising my right knee in such a way as to raise her hips with it. I varied the tempo of the spanks, going a little slower at times and a little faster at other times, until I found a tempo and a severity of spank to use that “hit” her just right. The spanks would find their target, she would moan and raise her head some in reaction. I had found her particular rhythm on that day.
I continued spanking her harder and harder, listening to her body, the almost involuntary rise and fall of her hips as her bottom instinctively attempted to avoid the pain and seek more spanks at the same time. Her moans became more intense, her lips parted even more, and her face was flushed in that beautiful way that a woman gets when approaching orgasm.
Then she climaxed, calling out “God! Oh god! What the fuck did you do!?”
I kept spanking and she kept coming for maybe another half a minute or so.
After this she sat up next to me on the couch, looking at me astonished at both me and her own reaction.
Then I woke up…
The Story Today – “Whipping Girl vs Spanking Machine” – the “Whipping Girl” saga continues…
The story begins here.
The masochism test had gone quite well. Melanie had passed it reasonably well, although she couldn’t speak for Mr. Hanagan who took his sweet time releasing her from the spanking bench. Now she found herself strapped down to another bench, this one being the bench of a spanking machine while its operator loaded a belt in each of it’s high-powered spanking rotors.
This circumstance began when Mr. Hanagan mentioned to Kristy Haventhorpe that he’d hired a whipping girl for his daughters. Kristy, being of a more conservative bent, eyed him with a slight smile.
“Ah, interesting,” she’d said. “We went the opposite way, kind of. We bought a spanking machine for our home.”
Mr. Hanagan’s eyebrows raised. He hadn’t thought of going that route. It’s counterintuitive if your goal is not to have your daughters spanked. But if you do feel like they need to be spanked, then a spanking machine might be just the ticket. You can set it and forget it. You don’t have to deal with the pleading or the feeling guilty or the counting… You don’t have to decide when is enough. Most of them come with presets these days, programmed to match various punishment circumstances. You just had to input the age, gender, weight and physical fitness level of the one to punish. A display of a range of suggestions and a recommendation for which was best then showed up waiting to have it’s button pressed.
The question now before Mr. Hanagan was which strategy was better – having his daughters feel the guilt of watching their whipping girl take their punishments for them or actually having a spanking machine to put them into and where he could “set it and forget it”. He was leaning towards keeping the whipping girl, because he assumed it might be somewhat of a hardship for her to lose the job she had just acquired. So he decided to discuss the situation with Melanie. She eventually convinced him that she was the better choice because guilt is a much stronger force than pain. But he was still doubtful and decided that a contest was in order.
He would pick a hypothetical crime, program it into the spanking machine, get it’s recommendation, and then have his whipping girl take the punishment. If she begged out or promised to behave during the punishment, he would know that the spanking machine was stronger than her and she would lose her job. Melanie didn’t feel like there was much choice but to accept the challenge. Besides, it would be a valuable thing to put on her whipping girl resume – “Experience taking spanking machine punishment”. Anyone hiring such a whipping girl, who also happens to own a spanking machine, would then know that she doesn’t have to spend her valuable time actually whipping the girl.
Mr. Hanagan input the crime of underage drinking and driving. Melanie, Whipping Girl looked at him and said, “Seriously? Why not just put in ‘armed robbery’ or ‘murder’ and have the machine spank me into a hospital stay?”
Mr. Hanagan responded that this crime was actually perpetrated by one of his daughters last year. He input 17 as an age, 150 lbs as the weight (taking the average weight of his daughters along with the whipping girl), and ‘athletic’ as the fitness level. The recommendation was for 220 strokes with a belt, no pants, underwear optional. Whipping Girl gulped and rubbed her bottom reflexively. She also frowned a bit, which was very cute.
Kristy Haventhorpe generously allowed Mr. Hanagan use of her spanking machine for this experiment. She let them in and went off to run errands. Whipping Girl took down her jeans and bent over the bench. Having seen her strapped to a spanking bench before, he began strapping her in himself, feeling quite handy and practical. Kristy had been right about how easy the fresh leather belts were to load into the spinning spankers. This one was a good brand. Melanie was bent at a 90 degree angle. The height of the bench was adjustable for hip height, so he raised the bench a bit for her taller stature. As she bent over the bench, strapped down, the heels of her feet just touched the floor. She tugged at her wrists straps as she stared at them in front of her, realizing she was about to get the most severe belting she’d ever received.
Once the rotating spankers were loaded with the leather belts and calibrated for optimum striking angle, Mr. Hanagan pressed the button to start the spanking.
The motorized spankers began to whir and a low whoosh sound went through the air as the first one swung it’s belt into Whipping Girl’s panty-clad bottom. She sucked in her breath and her eyes widened. She hadn’t expected that the strokes would hurt this much. Within another two seconds she felt another lashing spank as the other spanker did it’s job.
And thus it proceeded. The rate never changed. Every two seconds – WHAP! And like any good orchestration, the cries issued forth from Whipping Girl’s pouty, frowning mouth that followed those WHAPs, began softly and then steadily grew louder and more plaintive. And within that pattern, the nature of her cries changed. At times they got higher pitched. At other times they became more guttural as if she were straining against something. After about 130 spanks with those belts, her cries no longer punctuated so much as provided a auditory overlay of pained crying.
But she never begged off and she never promised to be good. Of course she hadn’t done anything to be punished for. This was only a test. But so many seem to forget that and will promise anything if given enough pain. Whipping Girl simply cried and took it, which was her way. She didn’t focus on how red and bruised her bottom was becoming. That might make her lose her control and begin to beg. The pain, however, was something she couldn’t help but think about. It permeated her mind to the point where all she could think was “please, please, please…” and of course, “OWWW!!!”.
Her bottom was turning deeper and deeper shades of red and since most of her bottom was visible, one could see an area of rectangular shaped bruising across the center of both cheeks. Minute variations in the angle of the spanking caused a 2 inch wide strap to make a 5 inch tall bruise. As the belt spanks reached past 200, Melanie, now somewhat high on endorphins lay her head down on the bench, red-faced with tears streaming down her cheeks.
The machine stopped after 220 strokes with its belts and Mr. Hanagan unbound Whipping Girl. She pushed herself up from the bench and tried to stand up right away, but she was woozy and fell into Mr. Hanagan’s arms. He was caught off guard at first, holding this young woman to his chest with her not having pants on and all. But he knew at that moment that she needed holding and care. So he provided it to her. This would be no problem; just being a decent person. Melanie hugged him tightly around the abdomen and he stroked her hair as she whimpered. He was really looking forward to when he could have her pull her pants up, but other than that he felt right giving her this care. Then he imagined for a moment one of his daughters coming from such a spanking. He couldn’t live with doing that to them. It was good that Whipping Girl had won the challenge.
He looked down at her and faced her towards him by putting a finger under chin. “You did very well today. I want you to know. You took all that spanking and never once begged off or promised to do better.”
She smiled and looked down. As she composed herself, she reached down and pulled up her pants. As they slid over her bottom she winced and frowned.
Mr. Hanagan watched Melanie button her pants and something occurred to him.
“Hmmm… You took all that spanking and never once begged off or promised to do better,” he said. Melanie did not like the look in his eyes.
“Mr. Hanagan, wait. What are you thinking? Stop thinking. No,” she said.
It was too late. He was smiling.
“I’ll buy the spanking machine and keep you as well. Then when my daughters need punishing…” he started.
“No no no no no no…” said Melanie. “Please don’t…”
“I’ll put you in the spanking machine first, so they can feel the guilt…” he said.
“Ah GEEZ!” Melanie said.
Mr. Hanagan finished, “..and then I’ll put them in it as well.”
Melanie rubbed her bottom and looked at the machine. She really wanted a drink…
