Coming from an abusive youth, I never thought I’d like spankings, but I do. In the bedroom, that is. Several times we have tried to do spankings in the living room, but almost every time I freaked out, and we had to stop. It’s just the two of us in the house, and when the curtains are closed, there’s no one to see us. The only other difference with the bedroom is that my cats walk around. That’s something that slightly worries me because I’m always scared they’ll come to my rescue and attack my husband. But they never do. They fall asleep somewhere in a corner and think: oh, it’s that sex thing again. So what is it that makes me freak out about doing spankings in the living room?
Bed = Okay
The setting where I’m most comfortable undergoing pain play is in the bedroom. Usually, I’m on my knees on the bed, with my head on the mattress and my ass sticking up. Somehow that feels safe, no matter how hard the pain. We try different positions within the bedroom as well, from standing and leaning on the bed, to being tied to the wall.
The last position has been too much as well a couple of times, but it is a more challenging position anyway. With my arms up in the air, it feels extra vulnerable, so that would make the best sub squirm. Overall I’d say we haven’t many issues in the bedroom.
Living Room = Not Okay
Occasionally, to mix things up, we try to do sensation play in the living room. There are no housemates who could walk in, the curtains can be closed to ward off on viewers, so all should be well, right?
Nope. Time and time again, I panic when we do pain play in the living room. Everything else is the same as in the bedroom, apart from the presence of my cats perhaps. So what’s the big difference?
I’ve traced it back to my youth and to how I was mistreated by my mom. She could explode at random, and the majority of these events took place in the living room. I wasn’t even spanked that hard, or in such a way that it left bruises, but the mental impact on sensitive me was the same. So if that’s the case, what can we do about it now?
Patience is Key
Two weeks ago we tried a spanking with me kneeling on the couch, downstairs in the sitting room. Just like previous times, I panicked, and I used my ‘trigger-stopword’: purple. My Dominant stopped and took me unto his lap. He held me, cuddled me, and waited until the tears stopped. Then he said this:
“Your mother is not here. I am here. Are you willing to take this pain for me? To make me happy?”
And, while still sniffling, I said yes.
He resumed the spanking, and everything went well this time. No more triggers, just the pain. And the pain transformed inside of me into many different feelings, like they often do for masochist me.
From Tears to Relief
So, I discovered, triggers do not have to mean the end. It wasn’t easy for either of us. My husband hates seeing me cry, and I don’t enjoy feeling as distressed as I did. It cost my husband many ounces of patience, kindness, and understanding. And a willingness and tenacity to get past this hurdle.
Does this mean we have overcome this issue for good? No, I don’t think so. The trigger comes from so deep within me that it cannot be solved with one happy spanking experience. But it is an experience that counts. It’s a new happy memory and one that’s more recent than the faint ones from my childhood. And what counts most: there is still hope for me. There is a way to get past the sometimes crippling memories from my past. And no, it’s not easy, but the end result is worth it.
This article was inspired by the Mental Health prompt by Sex Bloggers for Mental Health