What on earth was I thinking?!

WTF have I agreed to?

I’m sober now. Well, that’s actually debatable. I think I may still be drunk. Shit, I have the Grandmother of all hangovers, the Mother moved over and made some room for Granny to step in and wallop me!

I have some vague, fuzzy recollections from last night, but mainly I am crawling with embarrassment because of the whole conversation I had with Graham, the only part I can remember in glorious pristine detail is my mouth running away with itself and telling him all about my spanking obsession.

My spanking transgression confession diary is still on the sofa where we left it and my insides are curling up with humiliation and eating me alive. I can’t deal with myself right now, I need to sober up and clear my head.

I rarely drink this heavily, hell, usually the maximum is 2 glasses, but put that with the heat from the hot tub, the shock of Graham appearing and the adrenaline rush that brought about, then add the obvious evidence of three empty wine bottles in the lounge and I am so ashamed of myself I can’t stand it. What the hell am I turning myself into?

I have no control over my urges, I am tipping myself into a hedonistic lifestyle and I am rapidly removing any and all boundaries that are getting in the way of my pursuit of pain and pleasure! I knew this kink lived inside me, I’ve known it all my life, I’ve always been on the edge of feral, breaking the rules is like a hobby to me and I have gone about it throughout my life with abandon and no regrets. This is different, this is controlling me, it consumes my thoughts daily, I am utterly despondent by the end of a day if I haven’t had at least 3 screaming orgasms and done something that will guarantee a damn good spanking at the end of the week.

As far as I can see, that is the only thing I’m still managing to control. The how often the spanking happens. But, and this is now where I am confused about it all, I am happily tripping into very unknown and therefore dangerous territory by accepting spankings from virtual strangers. In truth, I may ‘know’ Mr and Mrs Wilson, but only in the narrowest sense of the word, he was my window cleaner and she works in the local supermarket. I know nothing about them other than the usual snippets from others about them being ‘decent’ people! I allowed them both into my home and encouraged them to spank the living daylights out of me. What the hell was I thinking?

And then there is Graham, my peeping tom neighbour, who I decided must be completely safe and trustworthy because he handed me my robe and told me he was GAY? That’s my criteria for safe and trustworthy now? FFS!! What is wrong with me?

I have to get a grip of myself. It’s one thing to embark on a self spanking, self-discipline regime for myself but it’s something else entirely when I start to actively provoke confrontation to garner spankings from random strangers. Obviously that was why I didn’t leave the bedroom that day when Mr Wilson appeared in the window, or even covered my bottom up, all I had to do was drop my dress back in place and he would have been none the wiser, but I stood there and got a thrill out of the idea he might see me.

As soon as I saw Graham standing outside looking over the fence at me, I purposely flashed him, and then did it again last night, standing in my punishment and pleasure palace, butt naked in full view because of the light and I gave no thought at all to the consequences of my actions. It just made me horny as hell. I think I need to get laid and get rid of all this sexual tension I’m carrying around inside me all the time. The sexual aspect above everything is the truly shocking discovery about myself I have made in recent weeks. I can’t leave myself alone! I am constantly wanting to touch myself, stroke myself, make myself cum and I am facilitating that by the clothes I wear now, or lack thereof actually, as more often than not these days, the only time I am wearing panties is when I begin my spanking. I am purposely putting myself in danger and getting a kick out of it. This is way more than naughty, it is borderline self-destructive and I have to stop.

That all sounded very reasonable and responsible didn’t it? It sounds like I have a good grasp on where I’m going wrong and I’m going to do something to fix the problem.

Yeah, not going to happen I’m afraid. As soon as I began to deconstruct my spanking fixation I realised why it’s so sexually charged for me. When I was spanked as a child, it was for breaking rules and it was discipline in its truest form. There was no sexual element to it because of who the people were who were spanking me and also because I was just a child. A very willful and naughty child at that! As I got older and into my teenage years, I did go and play with myself after each spanking I received, but that was based around the sensations I was experiencing as my bottom became un-numbed and had nothing to do with any external factors, I was exploring my budding sexuality and I was also finding my inherent sensuality through my explorations.

I was also not in control of the spankings, how hard they would be, what they were for, how often they would happen and that kept it all in check because sometimes I could go for months without receiving a spanking so the sexual tension and anticipation never built up, and as I got older my mother called a halt to spanking as a means of discipline as she deemed it inappropriate as a form of punishment now that I was a young woman. My family heartily agreed. I was very well developed by the age of 14 and it would have been the same as spanking a full grown woman. I can see why they would be uncomfortable with that. To them it would be bordering on abuse if they continued with it.

That dropped me off the edge of my world into an unknown one without discipline boundaries. I did manage to maintain the facade of well behaved woman throughout the early part of my adult life and my marriage, in honesty I was so desperately unhappy during those years I had absolutely no interest in pain or pleasure, I had become something of an asexual being. I didn’t really care about personal and I focused entirely on professional. It served its own purpose I suppose, I am now well able to provide a comfortable lifestyle for myself and I have a healthy business portfolio backing it. In essence I have little to worry about except how do I gain my pleasure? I do work hard, most days anyway, and I do work long hours when I apply myself, I also give back to the community by donating my time and number skills to a local sports club who do amazing work with people and kids of all ages from all walks of life. I am proud of my involvement in that pursuit. So why shouldn’t I take my pleasure when it presents itself to me?

In reality, who I am hurting by doing this? No one really. Okay, I could argue that Mr & Mrs W had their noses bent out of shape because of my behaviour, but let’s be fair and frank about this, they didn’t have to spank me to deal with the issue. They could have just removed Mr Wilson as my window cleaner, told me what they thought of me and walked away. The reality was he had seen an opportunity present itself for him and his wife to spank a third party, it probably did not present itself as an option for them very often. He was the one who had come to me and told me in no uncertain terms he intended to spank me for my actions, he was just getting my agreement to it that’s all.

All of my behaviour since starting the spanking has hinged on pushing the limits of my boundaries and seeing where I will draw the line. When is it too much? When have I gone too far? When have I shamed myself completely and irretrievably, when will the remorse for my actions actually prevent me from doing any of this again?

I haven’t found that place yet. So, I am going to continue to look, and in the meantime, I will enjoy my hedonistic lifestyle and take all the pain I can take in order to extract the maximum amount of pleasure my mind and body needs to feel normal.

I feel good about it all now.

I opened my transgression confession diary to make some notes, I flipped to a crisp new page, and I found Grahams IOU.

Oh fuck…

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