My wife and I enjoy impact play: me as the submissive and my wife as the dominant.
Impact play is a bit of a catch-all term for striking a partner for sexual gratification. We have two paddles, two canes, a tawse, a crop as well as the option of bare hands and a wooden spoon bought specially from a homeware shop.
They hurt: each one provides a different pain, different intensities, differing ebbs and flows of sensations that ravage my senses. No two implements feel remotely the same, and I can tell what I am being hit with without looking. The cane is quite sharp and stings, the paddle very forceful that rumbles and thuds and the crop exceedingly crisp and biting.
Sometimes I will have been mean or nasty to get my spanking. Sometimes I tease to provoke. Sometimes it’s for fun, like when we did a “Spank Race” for a month with other couples, and sometimes it’s just because my wife wants to.
Often it starts with “the look:” a slightly aggressive tone of voice as she reaches for her punishment implement. Occasionally she will send me to retrieve the tool, to reinforce her dominance as the submissive returns tentatively with his punishment.
An apology for whatever transgression is never enough, it’s too late: I’m getting punished. The fiery look in her eyes, the smack of the punisher on her hands as she warms up, drawing my attention to her weapon. Sometimes she will strip my bottom bare, eager to inflict maximum pain and control. Other times, especially during the day, a few short strokes across the backs of my thighs brings me to heel.
There is an alluring sexiness to it: a build up of tension that is only relieved once she unleashes her battery of assault on my flesh, focusing on the buttocks and thighs. A few short strokes, then a variety: in intensity, location and speed. I never know what’s coming, and she will never let me watch as she’s in control.
But there’s a satisfaction: a disconnect from reality that as the implement comes down repeatedly on my skin, I can feel a cool calmness float through me. Surrendering to the strikes, falling into the punishment is a blissful nirvana. It’s sheer heaven.
And then there’s the cuddles and aftercare that follows.
So while I don’t get spanked, paddled, cropped, caned or hit every day; it’s a glorious, wonderful, fantastic addition to our sex life when I do. And I’m sure I thoroughly deserve every smack I receive.
(I did a lot of teasing to get that!)
Featured image from Wiki Commons; the above image from my archives!