Her Secret Corner… Spanking Erotica

Some time ago, I wrote a post concerning a marriage counselor I’d seen on Oprah, discussing his newest book, “The Truth About Cheating”.

For a short period of time, the Oprah show offered said book as a free download.  Although I’m single, I downloaded it.  I figured it could make for interesting reading at a later time.

I think most of us who are adults and have been in various relationships, probably have some experience with infidelity.  For me personally, I’ve never crossed that line, but have been on the other side. 

The emotional pain that comes from feeling betrayed is hard to express in words.  You wonder why… how… what did I do/didn’t do?  Was it me?  Was it simply him, and he’s wired to cheat?  (I really think some people are, women as well as men).

Today I took a few moments to read through Mr. Neuman’s  book.  The stats are startling.  Its estimated that between 22 to 70 percent of married men cheat.  Some stats suggest that roughly half of all men have had affairs. 

The thing that really struck me, however, is that most of the (unfaithful) men interviewed expressed remorse at their actions.  Most wished they could turn back the clock and undo the wrong.  And most claimed to love their wives.

So it begs to wonder: why?  What’s the deal, and how can it be avoided?

Surprisingly, the marital sex life (or presumed lack of one) was not the major issue for the majority of these men.  Most stated emotional dissatisfaction as the main reason for straying.  Lack of appreciation, attention, lack of a general loving bond, was the number one reason these guys looked elsewhere. 

One big surprise for me (as a woman) was how little appearance seemed to matter.  We women tend to focus so much of our insecurities on how we look, or don’t look, and that was not a large factor.  Most of the men polled said the other woman was not significantly hotter than the wife at home; it was the way the other woman made him feel.

Men are generally considered the less emotional of the sexes.  But 48 percent said it was about the emotional connection, or lack of, that drove them to cheat. 

So it bears contemplating:  How to shore up that connection?

Many couples claim spanking helps to reconnect.  The act itself is embarrassing for many of us, at least in the beginning.  I think if a couple can get past that, it would certainly help to form a stronger bond between them. 

The physical act of spanking can serve as stress relief; always a good thing.  Physical pain is, of course, part of the equation.  A man spanking, then comforting, offers a huge emotional high for many women.  And I know I would much rather be spanked than bicker endlessly…

A good spanking can clear the air in a way few other activities can.  Even good “angry” sex, or “make-up” sex doesn’t dissipate tension the way a stern spanking can.

I can’t help but wonder how many marriages might be saved, if the couple would consider adopting a spanking lifestyle?

I have to say, I’m intrigued by what goes on out there.   I receive e-mail all the time from readers.  Some I post as comments, some I don’t, simply because the people express that what they have to say is private, and not for the entire world to see.   Some I choose not to post because I find the subject matter inappropriate. 

I got a lot of feedback concerning my post regarding what’s normal play/discipline between a committed couple.  It varies a great deal.  Some people are on the mild side, and some venture toward the extreme. 

Many use implements, many don’t.  There are those that consider a few slaps on the bottom adequate, and then there are those that have sessions that last a considerable amount of time, and use several implements. 

For some, its the idea of connecting, or reconnecting, that is the main goal. Spanking serves that purpose.  For some, the pain is cathartic, and necessary. 

For some women, they don’t want the pain, but they want their husbands to be in control.  Some men find it a way to calm their ladies, or a way to keep order in their household.

I must confess, I wonder about myself and how far I want to go.  Someone asked me recently if any of my stories are autobiographical.  The most honest answer is no.  For the most part they are fantasy.  Most are on the more extreme side.  I don’t have the desire to be punished the way the guys in most of my stories punish the women. 

I will confess to having written one story that came close to my real, deep set desires.  But still, it is the dynamic that exists between the man and the woman– the closeness and tenderness– combined with a bit of sternness, that is what I dream of late at night.  The punishment scenes in this particular story are harsh, and much more than I want to live out in real life.  As a matter of fact, it is one of the few stories the editor at Discipline and Desire rejected, even though she personally liked it.  It was too much for their genre.

So I’m left wondering how far I want to take things in the cold light of day.  I know I want my limits pushed.  I can admit to that.  I know I want things to go farther than my last partner was comfortable taking them.  But how far, exactly, is something I struggle with. 

I think that cathartic release is what I long for, and a few simple hand spanks are not likely to get me there.   At the same time, fear is certainly a factor. 

At least I know– thanks to so many of you– that my desires are not so out of the norm.  And that I can have them materialize– once I figure them out.  And for that, I say thank you!

Why is it that some people are totally open and at ease with their sexuality, while others are shy or conservative?

I write spanking fiction.  Secretly, covertly, with a small snicker on my face as I do.

My family and friends have no idea I do this.   A few of my close friends believe I write erotica, and one has practically begged to be allowed to read my work. 

Not going to happen.  Ever.

I intend to take my pen name to my grave, (which is Cydni, by the way– not Cyndi). 

Sounds melodramatic, I know.  But I would be mortified if anyone who knows me knew.

I love sex.  And I love men.  Well, some men.  But I’m also very shy, and yes, in my real life, I’m somewhat conservative.

I really don’t like the blaze attitude that is so prevalent today.  Seriously, when did “bitch” become an acceptable adjective?  And why do young women seem to put up with it?

Maybe this is why spanking means so much to me.  I tend to equate it with an old-fashioned attitude, a sort of 1950′s mindset, when women were ladies and men were gentlemen.  And sex was hot behind closed doors.

While those days are gone, I can’t help thinking if I feel this way, there has to be a man out there somewhere who feels the same.

Lately I’ve been in a bit of a depression.  The first anniversary of my mom’s death just passed, along with my niece’s birthday.  It was a tough couple of weeks, and I’ve learnt along the way to cut myself some slack during times such as these.

Inevitably, when a low mood strikes, I find myself doing two things: sleeping a lot, and reading huge amounts of romance novels.

I have quite a collection of Harlequins, left over from my teenage years.  And many more that have been added along the way, via trips to various thrift stores.

I must confess, I don’t care for much of what is on the shelves today.  I much prefer the stories of old, the ones that were written in the seventies and eighties, before romance fiction took the turn toward political correctness.

There are scenes in some of those older novels that would never appear today.  Some are questionable (the writing is certainly questionable!), but some are hot beyond belief.

Its amazing to me the amount of references to spanking that appear during that time frame.  It almost seems as if it were the norm for a man to threaten a woman with a trip over his knee if she didn’t behave/obey.

All this escapism provides a welcome relief, but eventually reality intrudes, and my mind returns to the present.  I can’t help comparing my real life to those of the heroines I spend so much time with.

Do I want to experience their stories– any of their stories?

Probably not.  But I can’t help thinking about what I do want.  Fantasy is a great realm to hide in, but real life is much better, when you make the effort to participate.

The heroes of thirty years ago are not the heroes of today.  They were unashamedly dominate, real men’s men, not afraid to speak their minds or put a woman over their knee, regardless of the consequences.  

Of course, they were also the figment of some author’s imagination…

There is a fine line between dominate and domineering.  My ex-husband was domineering to the tenth degree.  Not a good thing– not appealing in the least. 

I’ve had a hard time trying to reconcile my wants against a deep-set struggle that lies within me.  I’m very independent.  My personality was set as a little girl; I’ve always been used to taking care of myself.  So where, possibly, can a dominate man fit into my life?

Personally, I think there is a big difference between dominate and domineering. 

Domineering to me comes from a lack of self-esteem, lack of trust, immaturity.  Dominance, on the other hand, can mean many different things.  I like to think of dominance between a man and a woman in terms of caring, protecting, maybe even a little bit of jealousy.  A small amount of jealousy is a good thing; too much is a very bad thing.

I dream of a dominate man asking if I remembered to take my meds on time, and if I didn’t, swiftly pulling me over his knee.  The act is three-fold:  one is punishment for neglecting myself, two is sexual, and the third is the heartfelt emotion of a man who cares if I take care of myself.

So in my dreams, this is what I wish for.  When I escape reality for short periods of time, it is to a dream world where this guy exists.  In my dream world, my heart is warm, along with my bottom.

Italy was an adventure for me.  All those lovely olive trees, providing an abundance of fresh, perfect switches… not to mention a villa on the Italian country side, with rolling hills, greenery and plenty of privacy.

Alas, this is all fantasy for me, of course.  I went with an old friend who is just that– a friend.  Nothing more, never has been, never will be.  Not to mention, we were with a group of seven other people.

But my imagination ran wild while I was there.  I spent part of the time sick, so I had ample opportunity for fantasizing.  In my minds eye, I was there with my husband, and those switches got put to good use!

Italy is beautiful, for sure.  But I have to say, I was very glad when that plane set down at LAX.  There really is no place like home, even if home does have its flaws.

I came home with renewed determinations.  One is to take control of my health, as much as possible.  I have a serious condition, but one thing I do know after having worked in the health food industry for many years, is that the medical community has one way of looking at things, and the alternative community has another.  Although I’ve embraced both to a certain degree, I know I can do better.

The other determination is to find a partner.  I’ve been looking for some time, but not nearly as diligently as I could.  It’s hard, it’s scary, and it takes effort.

He’s out there somewhere.  Of this I feel sure.  Maybe someday soon I’ll be writing about true life adventures, instead of just fantasy.

I love the way they’re both holding their bottoms in these pictures. 

In the first, I can just imagine how her cheeks are stinging and throbbing.  Along with the physical sensations, I also imagine the euphoria she’s feeling, the sense of calm and peace.  I’ve heard that described as “sub-space”, although I’ve never personally experienced it.

In the second, I imagine the trepidation, the butterflies in the stomach, maybe a sense of guilt or shame…