All that I am, all that I ever was…

I am more than my mental health. I am more than my homelessness. I am more than any one aspect of me. I am Addy. And this is…

{NSFW} 01. How can you define something you don’t fully understand?

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Day 1: Dom, sub, switch?  What parts of BDSM interest you?  Give us an interesting in-depth definition of what that means to you. Basically define your kinky self for us.

My central concerns as I sit down to tackle this challenge are: the focus on BDSM, for I have never identified as being part of this lifestyle and my lack of real-life experience in the realm of kinky behavior. So how exactly am I going to write for thirty days on a topic I know little about?

For the vast majority of the population, BDSM stands for Bondage, Discipline, Sadism and Masochism; only the ‘D’ of which truly applies to my life. Although I have a fondness for light bondage (as in tying your lover to a bed with silk scarves and teasing them until they’re begging for release, in more ways than one) I’ve never considered myself a sadist or masochist as pain is not my primary focus when it comes to my fetish.

Thus for me to even begin contemplating this challenge I feel it necessary to redefine BDSM so it better reflects who I am. So from this point on, in relation to me, BDSM will stand for Bipolar Disorder, Spanking and Me; for I am a spanko, a spanking purist if you will.

I am not – nor have ever been – interested in being someone’s slave, submissive or pet. I do not wish to become subservient to someone nor be degraded, wear a collar or other latex/PVC related paraphernalia. I do not consider myself a masochist as I do not receive sexual gratification from receiving pain alone.

However, for as long as I can remember, I have been overwhelmed with a desire to receive corporal punishment as and when necessary. I do wish to be scolded, spanked and punished; none of which requires degradation on a personal level and the pain it would involve is the pain of discipline, not control.

I am not – nor have ever been – interested in being someone’s Dom, Top or Master. I do not want someone to bow to my every whim and desire, deify me or worship me and I do not consider myself a sadist as I receive no sexual gratification from inflicting pain on others.

However, for as long as I can remember, I have been overwhelmed with a desire to discipline others by means of corporal punishment. I enjoy scolding, spanking and punishing people; none of which requires them to be my servant or slave, merely someone I love enough to discipline.

This oscillating desire between spanker and spankee denotes that I am a Switch. And yes, as a later entry in the challenge will explore, the connection between my oscillating submissive/dominant moods and my oscillating depressive/manic moods has not gone un-noticed.

To many, this singular desire of spanking is considered very un-kinky. Surely most have played with spanking their lover’s delightful posterior in the privacy of their bedroom? The buttocks are a major erogenous zone and a sharp, playful smack can be incredibly arousing at any time, let alone in those hormone raging pre-orgasm moments. Whilst some of my spanking fantasies do revolve around this form of erotic spanking, most revolve around corporal punishment and discipline; the sort of spankings that bring on tears and remorse rather than climaxes and excitement.

But as later installments of this challenge will explain, it is not merely spanking as discipline that interests me, but a whole gauntlet of discipline measures that most leave behind in childhood; scolding, corner time, essays as punishment, being sent to bed, hand punishments, grounding and writing lines being some that always spring instantly to mind.

So perhaps I’m not as kinky as some – but to me these spanking and discipline desires enter the realm of non-vanilla, thus rendering me ‘kinky’; i.e. ‘not part of the norm’, something I’ve been wrestling with since I was a child.

When I was younger I would lay awake at night praying that my parents would utilize spanking more often in their punishment regime, for whenever they did spank me, however much I disliked it, they (and I) noticed a stark improvement in my behavior.

Throughout my school years I felt jealous of all those who had attended school when slippers, straps and canes regularly thwacked the rumps of naughty pupils rather than the detentions, litter collections and endless (pointless) sermons that reigned when I was a pupil.

Whereas in my adult life I have grown to understand how important discipline is when it comes to shaping our lives and making us who we are. And the discipline I crave is physical in nature; not the fines and emotional manipulation/silent treatment issued by governments and partners respectively.

Over the years these desires to be thrashed, caned, paddled, belted and spanked beyond tears have confused and disgusted not only myself, but those I have dared share this side of my soul with. I have been called everything from ‘pure evil’ to ‘disgusting’, my desires described as everything from ‘repulsive’ to ‘a disease requiring treatment’.

I’ve tried to bury it, ignore it and done everything I can think of to make it go away. But no matter what remedies I took the desire always returned; rising from within me with a fiery passion unlike anything else in my life.

No matter how much I love kissing someone; savoring their subtle flavor, losing myself in the intimacy, tasting their very being. I can’t help but squeeze their bottom and imagine what it would be like to give it a playful smack.

No matter how much I love shagging someone; being inside the woman I love, driving myself deeper and deeper until I lose myself there for all eternity. I can’t help but hope their hand will find its way to my ass and begin smacking my eager flesh.

No matter how much I love cuddling someone; holding their breast in my hand, their posterior against my groin, feeling their chest rise and fall with every breath they take. I can’t help but imagine how different the cuddle would be if their behind was radiating heat from a recent punishment.

If I’m walking down a street and catch sight of a spectacular posterior, my mind begins to fantasize about spanking. If I’m late paying rent or bills, my mind begins to fantasize about having the debt taken out on my behind. If I’m reading news stories about corporal punishment, my thoughts turn to how lucky they are as I would have given anything to have experienced that.

For years I considered my spanking desires a disease I had to fix, partly as a result of the insults I received, but now I realize how much time I’ve wasted. Spanking is in my blood. It was put there at birth and there is nothing I can do to cure it; for there is no cure for normal – and spanking is normal for me.

It is something that excites me, thrills me, intrigues me, overwhelms me and has been a part of my life for as long as I can remember. So how could I not write about it? The simple fact is I’m still learning who I am when it comes to this side of my personality so it’s impossible for me to define my kinky self any more than I already have.

I’m a switch, I love spanking, I crave discipline and I’m still exploring this aspect of my soul.

By day thirty, perhaps I will be able to define my kinkiness with more depth and focus. So what if my real-life experiences are virtually non-existent? So what if I’m not as kinky and deviant as other people? I am who I am, I am passionate about who I am and if I’m not kinky enough, so be it.

Life is not a competition, it is something to be embraced and enjoyed; red bottomed or otherwise.

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