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} 13. Desires and needs

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Back in November 2012 I began working through a blog challenge titled 30 Days of Kink. It was a challenge that looked at the more ‘deviant’ side of my personality; the random kinks and fetishes that drive my sexually creative and passionate mind. For numerous reasons I wasn’t able to complete all the posts, so will, from time to time, work through the remaining prompts of this most confrontational and revealing of blog challenges. Re-starting today with…

Day 13: Explain as best you can what the appeal of kink/BDSM is to you?
Why are you drawn to what you’re drawn to?

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Many years ago, I came home from work to find my then girlfriend sifting through my journal. This wasn’t an unusual occurence, in fact secretly reading my journal was an oft-undertaken hobby of hers. The moment she realised I was standing in the doorway there were no hasty apologies, attempts to hide what she was doing or admit the grotesque invasion of privacy in any way, shape or form. She simply placed the journal onto the bed and waited for me to explain the artwork she had been looking at.

The picture was my own version of the GJC drawn artwork above. In it, my naked bottom was twitching nervously over the lap of one of my girlfriend’s friends as she reached for an ominously placed hairbrush. In the background, rather than a male nonchalantly watching, I had drawn my girlfriend; a sympathetic smile on her lips as she waited for the punishment to begin.

After several moments of anxious silence my girlfriend asked me if it had anything to do with what had happened a few weeks earlier. We had gone to her friend’s house for dinner where, whilst cleaning away the crockery, I’d managed to drop a stack of her best dinner-ware into the glass front of her kitchen cabinet, destroying both crockery, glass and ornaments alike. Everyone knew it had been a complete accident but the event had stuck in my mind, so in a moment of privacy later in the week I had written a story in which my girlfriend’s friend had decided I needed to be a taught a lesson over my clumsiness and took me over her knee for a bare-bottom hairbrush spanking that my girlfriend had watched from across the room.

The image was an afterthought, an illustration to depict that moment of helpless nervousness I had long desired to experience.

“Did you read the story?” Were the first words out of my mouth.

She said nothing, merely turned the journal back to here and began to read aloud. “Her scolding words were just a distant noise, lost beneath the constant sound of that damned wood striking my backside with relentless abandon…” She skipped forward a few paragraphs. “I cried loudly as the wood smacked onto the burning flesh of my sit-spot, tears threatening to fall as every square inch of my posterior pulsated with intense heat. The only words I could voice between the gasps and cries were ‘I’m sorry’ and ‘Please, I’ve learned my lesson’…” And again, my girlfriend moved on in the story. “I couldn’t see them, but I could hear them, sitting on the sofa across the room, giggling over my scarlet bottom which was on full display in the corner. The pain was unlike anything I’d ever felt in my life. But as I stood there, contemplating the events that had led me to that lonely corner, I knew it was a necessary pain.

She closed the journal. “I just…don’t…get it…Andrew,”

“I…I don’t know what to say,”

She shook her head slowly, tore the pages from my journal and walked them to the kitchen. Although I couldn’t see her, I could hear from the lighting of the gas stove that she was burning them, hoping that by igniting my desires they would be magically erased from my soul.

They weren’t.

I have battled long and hard to understand my spanking and corporal punishment desires. Many years have been spent analysing them from every angle possible; where did they come from, what happened to grant them entry into my heart, what incident was the cause and was there a cure?

But this was all just wasted energy, a desperate attempt from a confused mind to understand thoughts that made him feel weird, wrong, disgusting and evil.

There are no answers, there was no defining incident, there was merely a want; my soul’s innate need for discipline. A need that has manifested in a desire to be disciplined by corporal punishment. It was only by accepting this need that I was able to see myself as someone who wasn’t weird, wrong, disgusting or evil; it was only by understanding this innate desire that I could finally see myself as someone who wasn’t sexually deviant.

We all have needs, every single one of us. Some of us need coffee to wake us up in the morning. Others need to write lists or set alarms so as not to forget important tasks. My girlfriend needed to constantly read my journal in order to control my privacy. Whilst other people need for everything from chocolate-eclairs to the love of their pet in order to feel loved, comforted or included.

As I stated in the very first 30 Days of Kink post, I am not drawn to a BDSM lifestyle, I am drawn to corporal punishment, and I am drawn there because I have a very real, completely undeniable need to be held accountable for my actions and, if necessary, disciplined for them with a spanking.

Something I have known – even if I couldn’t admit it – since I was a young child.

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