On this date (Memorial Day), anyone who knows me, knows that the day has a dual significance. First, of course, is for remembering our veterans and their sacrifices for all of us. And second, today is the 18th anniversary of my first spanking.
In a recent blog, I talked about technique and aim, and was asked if I was willing to play with an inexperienced top. The answer is yes; if I didn’t, I’d never have played with my very first top. Because he’d never spanked before.
So funny to think back on that now. I mean, these days with a lot of experience behind me (no pun intended), I probably would be hesitant about bottoming to a virgin top. Thank goodness I didn’t feel that way back then, right? I simply didn’t know any different. I went by instinct alone — I found him attractive, I liked the way he talked, I liked his air of confidence. I somehow knew this was going to be right.
I learned something that first time, and it continues to be true — some people are naturals at topping. They have an instinctive feel for it, a sense of what to do and say, even if they’ve never done it before. This man, Paul, spoke to me like a veteran spanko would. His voice was smooth and cool and deliberate, and he said all the right things. He knew to hook his legs over mine when I thrashed. He paced it properly. How did he know? He loved control and dominance, and he had done bondage and pinning and take-downs, but never spanking. Oh… and his aim was spot on. He covered both cheeks thoroughly. Some tops spank for years and never master that.
Was it perfect? Of course not. He gave no aftercare. And he left it to me to end the scene; told me he’d keep going until I decided I’d had enough and used the safeword we chose. I ended it not because I couldn’t take more — I would have gone on and on — but I was concerned about going too far my first time. And oh, what beautiful marks I had. How I miss those days of perfect hand prints, of red and purple streaks that last for days. But I have my memories.
I still think about him. Wonder where he is, how he is, if he found his perfect mate. I wish we could have kept in touch. I wish he could have seen what he started. But life goes on, and people come and go in it. Paul was not meant to be a permanent fixture. Spanking wasn’t even his thing, and that would have shown itself. But for this one day, for a unique moment in time, he was the most special of spankers to me.
Today, I am off to the gym, then back here to do some work. Tomorrow, I see Steve and play. It’s overdue.
A heartfelt thank-you — to our veterans, and to my very special spanking veteran from way back when.