Spanko or Spank-no?
There’s been quite a bit of discussion about the term spanko in blogland lately. So, I decided to look around online for a definition and one of the places that google suggested was Urban Dictionary. Here’s their definition…Spanko: Short form of spankophile. One who likes to spank or be spanked. This includes GG or Good Girl spankings and DD or Domestic Discipline spankings. This should not be confused with the BDSM scene which includes embarrassment and humiliation and pain beyond simple spankings.
So then I decided to google spankophile, which led me to
The Spankophile Test. It was an interesting quiz, with at least one question that didn’t really have the right answer available for me to choose, but I just picked the closest to what I felt my answer should be and moved on. My result? Serious Spankophile. Spanking definitely floats your boat. You aren’t a dyed in the wool spanking fetishist, but it’s definitely part of your sexual blueprint. You quite likely have had an interest in spanking since childhood and have been actively pursuing this interest for many years. You look for partners or are with a partner who at least occasionally fulfills your spanking needs.
Whether I agreed with all the questions that were asked or the answers that I could pick from, I couldn’t really argue with the result. Yes my friends, I’m afraid it’s true. Oh, I know it may not seem that way when I’m complaining about upcoming discipline and trying to figure out how to get out of it. And I may not always be looking forward to a spanking or agree that’s what’s needed at the time. But, deep down, I can’t deny that yes, I am indeed a spanko at heart. And it got me thinking about my childhood, my teen years, my formative years, my life and experiences when I was growing up.
I’m going to tell you something that I haven’t shared with anyone else. Ok, actually that’s not quite true, I’ve mentioned it to Michael, but I’m not even sure how much detail I went into with him. Some of my very earliest sexual fantasies included spanking. I’m not sure why really.
Yes, I was spanked as a child, but I only have a vague recollection of it. I only remember one time really. My dad was sitting on the edge of my bed and I was lying over his lap. He was telling me something, lecturing me I’d guess, and spanking me. I’m not sure how old I was, pretty young I imagine. The details are fuzzy and while I don’t think it was the first time I’d ever been spanked, I wonder if that was the last time I was ever spanked as a child.
And there was that one time when I sort of witnessed my cousins being spanked. I say sort of because my eyes were closed. I heard it, but I didn’t see it. We were visiting family and staying at my aunt & uncle’s house. We were sleeping on mattresses on the floor in the spare bedroom, my two cousins and I. We were supposed to be asleep, but you know what happens when you put three rambunctious girls together in the same room at night, right? Yeah, there was no sleep going on. We got several warnings to quiet down and go to sleep before my uncle barged into the room and flipped on the light. I immediately pretended to be fast asleep. My uncle lectured my cousins and I heard him taking his belt off. The sound of a belt slipping through belt loops really is unmistakable, don’t you agree? Then he started spanking them with it. I heard the sound of the belt swishing through the air and the crack as it hit their bottoms. I heard them cry out, apologizing, and I heard him continue to lecture them as he ignored their pleas for mercy. As for me, I didn’t move a muscle. I held my breath for awhile and then barely allowed myself to breathe. I’d never been whipped with a belt and I wasn’t taking any chances. I felt bad for my cousins, but I knew there wasn’t anything I could say or do to help them, so I just laid there. After a few minutes I heard the last swish and crack of the belt. My uncle had stopped. He gave the girls a final warning, flipped off the light and left. My cousins sobbed into their pillows. I felt like I should say something, try to comfort them somehow, thank them for not ratting me out, but I didn’t know what to say, so I remained quiet. Eventually we all fell asleep, not daring to move around or make a sound. When morning came it was as if it had never happened, none of us said a thing about it.
As a child I liked to play with baby dolls. Oh, I had Barbie’s too, but I didn’t play with them as much. They got a lot of use when I had friends over who preferred them. My preference was to play house with my baby dolls. My friends and I would take turns filling different roles in the family. Sometimes I was the mom or the dad or a sibling, sometimes they were. I do remember a specific time I played house with some friends. One of the girls played the part of the parent (I forget whether she was the mom or the dad) and I and my other friend played the children in the family, the older siblings of the baby doll. Well, my one friend and I, the kids, deliberately disobeyed our parent or perhaps we hadn’t done something we were supposed to do. I don’t remember exactly. But, we were in trouble, and the girl playing the parent lectured us and spanked us. I can remember lying on the floor next to my other friend, face down, both of us being spanked and accepting the spanking. It didn’t last that long and wasn’t that hard, but I remember that it stirred something in me, though I didn’t really understand what it was at the time. And I remember not wanting her to stop and after it was over, hoping it would happen again.
And then there was that time I spent the night at my grandparent’s house. I was older, a teenager. They were both avid readers and there were always all sorts of books all over the house. On this particular occasion I was sleeping, or trying to sleep, on the pull out sleeper sofa. Well, my grandparents always went to bed early and there was nothing on television. I was accustomed to reading at night before bed anyway, and I’d brought a book with me just for that reason. The only problem was, I finished my book and I was still wide awake. So, I started looking around to see what books my grandparents had lying around. Most of my grandfather’s books were non-fiction that I found quite dry. My grandmother’s books were much more appealing to a teen girl…romance novels, historical fiction, mysteries, etc. The cover of one book caught my eye. It smacked of intrigue and had an Asian flair. I wish I could remember what the title was because I’d buy it and read it. I read the book jacket and it certainly sounded interesting. I started flipping through it, realizing I wasn’t going to read the whole thing, but curious to see what it was about. Well, the scene that was described on the page that I flipped to was, well, it was quite shocking! I don’t remember all the details, but there was a man and woman, both Japanese, and he was obviously the one in charge, in complete control, dominating her totally. I remember that he whipped her bottom, tied her to the corners of the bed, face up, beat her breasts and generally used her however he pleased. I’d read some romance novels by this time, but I certainly hadn’t read a book like this one. I was fascinated. I remember flipping through the book, looking for more scenes like that one. I found a couple, but nothing quite as long or descriptive and I kept coming back to that first one I’d found, having put a tissue in the page to save it. Finally I looked at the clock and knew I really needed to get some sleep. I turned off the light, pleasured myself and fell asleep…and yes, I remembered to remove the tissue from the book. I certainly didn’t want my grandmother knowing that I’d been reading it, but I found myself wondering if she’d read it yet, if she knew what was contained in those pages.
I’m not sure what age I was exactly, but as I mentioned already, some of my earliest sexual fantasies were about spanking…amongst other things. I can remember some of the details, though over time I’d change things up here and there. A group of boys, young men really, would kidnap me. They were all very good looking, muscular and strong, and always older than me. They would take me to their lair, a hideout of some kind, sometimes underground, sometimes more like a castle, it wasn’t always the same. Apparently they were upset with me, I’d done something, misbehaved, been very naughty and that’s why they’d come for me. They would strip me, tie me down and spank me and then when they got tired of doing it themselves or they had something else to do or someplace to go, they’d leave me there in this spanking machine that would continue to spank me while they were gone. I know that this was a fantasy of mine in middle school, but I’m not sure exactly how old I was when I first started to fantasize about stuff like that. I mean, being kidnapped, stripped, restrained and spanked by a group of older boys? Being spanked by a spanking machine? And though it was definitely sexually charged, there was certainly a discipline aspect to it too. Actually, that’s something that just stopped me in my tracks as I wrote this out. I mean, it's pretty obvious, but I never really thought about it. Now that we’re doing ttwd, well, I’m not quite sure what to make of that. As I got older the fantasies evolved and other sexual elements came into play as well.
So where did all of this come from? That’s a fabulous question! Is this attraction and reaction to spanking something that’s innately in me, something hard wired? I would have to think so, at least to a certain extent anyway. But I would guess that my life experiences played into it as well. I would think I could’ve just as well been turned off by such experiences though, not, well, intrigued by them. And I did read a lot. I grew up down the street from a library and I devoured books. I read all sorts of things, including romance novels. And there was a used book store a few blocks away too. I remember buying a Jackie Collins book and bringing it to school in 8th grade. Some of my classmates were shocked…something I quite enjoyed. lol My parents didn’t really pay attention to what I was reading. I was a good kid really and I had a lot of freedom. In truth, my parents probably trusted me a bit more than they should have, though I think I turned out ok. ;)
So, did these childhood experiences lead to me becoming the spanko I am today or would that have happened regardless? An interesting question, but one for which there isn’t really an answer, just speculation.
What about you? What do you think? Is Urban Dictionary’s definition of a spanko accurate? Do you consider yourself a spanko or a spank-no? Did you take the spankophile test? What was your result? Was it what you expected or not really?