love spanking part i

It is rare that I am given the opportunity to bring such a moving and articulate story to my readers as this one. Carol has given me permission to quote or use her story as I see fit.

While not everyone has the same result from the spanking that Carol had, there are millions of people who are too ashamed and humiliated to tell their story or believe as many people believe that “he didn’t do me any harm so he can’t do any harm to my son”. Unlike Carol, they do not link the cause and effect of her emotional dysfunction and physical illnesses to her ‘Love Spanking’. Read Carol’s story in its entirety, because the truth in the first person is better than any research findings made by a clinical double. blind study or case study.

Non-abusive “love spanking” ruined me for life

When I was a child and my mother thought I needed discipline, she would pull me face down onto her lap and give me a series of stinging slaps with her hand on my bare buttocks while I cried. In fifteen seconds it was over. She’d be crying and grabbing my butt for a minute or so, but she didn’t really hurt much after that, just a hot itch. My rear would be a solid pink right after. But in a few hours it would be back to normal. And that was it.

I wasn’t “abused” as a child, just “lovingly spanked”. She never left a bruise when she “beat me with love.” The permanent marks were inside, not outside.

The mother strongly believed in spanking as a discipline for her children because it “worked” so well. All she had to do if she disliked my behavior was say, “Carol, do you want a spanking?” and that would scare me into obeying her. And if she told me to do the dishes and I didn’t do them very well and I got spanked for it, you can bet those dishes were unusually spotless for the next few days. But the spanking also left me with lifelong emotional and sexual issues that I still don’t know how to fix despite years of therapy. My mother had a dutiful daughter and cleaner dishes, and I had a lifelong mess inside of me.

If she were growing up today, Mom could post on parenting web forums about how “effective” spanking is as a discipline for her daughters. She might dismiss concerns about emotional damage by saying, “An hour after I spank her, Carol is happy playing or doing her chores.” I could talk about my good grades at school. I could talk about how polite I am and how respectful I am to my elders, and how she gets compliments from other adults about what a nice girl I am in public. And if someone tried to warn her that she might give her son a fetish, she might laugh and say, “Carol would never turn out like this. She hates being spanked!” And nothing she said would be a lie.

I tried so hard to be good. But sooner or later I always found myself face down on my mother’s lap taking another beating. I just couldn’t control it, except in my fantasies. In the fantasy I could make everything happen like this, as if it was really under my control. My mother’s preferred method of discipline upset me so much emotionally that I sexualized everything about it: the kind of clothes she wore and I wore, the things she said before and after my spanking, the position I got in, and again. . The fantasy allowed me to deal with my trauma and gain a feigned sense of control over something that was really out of my control. When I pictured myself as a naughty little girl on her mommy’s lap getting her bare little ass spanked, I pictured myself crying and begging mommy to stop. It was my fantasy though, so I really was in full control. And by eroticizing, I turned something horrible and terrifying into something charming and pleasurable.

And it worked. Becoming a spankophile at a young age kept me from falling apart. He comforted me when nothing else could. It made me feel like I was in control when I wasn’t. And it gave me a fictional escape from something for which there was no real escape. (How do you get away when it’s your own mom that’s hurting you?) And now I’m stuck with it for the rest of my life.

Parents who say, “He didn’t hurt me, so he can’t hurt my son” just don’t get it. Everyone is different. My mother was spanked when she was little and she followed the same tradition with my sister and me. But my mother did not become a whipper. And although my sister received the same kind of punishments as me, in the same lap and from the same hand, she did not become a spanker either. But I did it. There is no way of knowing in advance which of her whipped children will have a guilty sexual fixation for the rest of her life. So any parent who spanks his child is putting him at risk. Punishing your child with spanking is like playing a lottery where if he “wins” he ruins your child for life.
Most spanked children aren’t as obsessed as I am. But some of us do. And we are not weird. Growing up, I knew two other girls who were spanked by their parents and they both loved playing House the same way I did: spanking game, spanking game and more spanking game all afternoon without ever getting bored . (At least two of us were also strict about disciplining our dolls!) One girl even had me pretend that she was her real-life mother so we could re-enact actual episodes she had been disciplined for back in the day. her house For me, meeting two others like me this way would be next to impossible if kids like me were weird.

I am now retired, single, childless, taking medication for depression. At a tender age I used my budding sexuality to deal with something I didn’t know how to deal with in any other way. And he has left his mark on me forever. I have been paying the price all my life and I will never stop paying. I’m not married because the circuits in my brain that should have been used for romance were shattered by spanking instead. I am children because I never got married. So there is a direct link between my spanking, how I dealt with it, and being sexually abnormal and therefore never getting married or having children of my own.

Not all harm is sexual in nature. A “made me who I am today” pattern emerges whenever someone unexpectedly confronts me in anger about something I did. I have a bad habit of saying the first rationalization that comes to mind, sometimes even lying. It just eludes me. And I don’t know how to change. It goes back so far. It’s a habit I picked up as a preschooler that sometimes saved me from a background warmup. Usually it didn’t, but something that works only occasionally is better than nothing at all.

Another lifelong negative effect of my spanking is that when someone orders me to do something in a stern, authoritative voice, I usually give in and do it even if I don’t feel good about what I’m doing. It just happens, apparently by itself. And it all goes back to my early years. Growing up in my “traditional values” family, the kids did what they were told and didn’t respond. If you did, Mom would flip you over onto her knee, pull down your panties, and “teach you a lesson” right then and there. I sure learned my lessons! The problem is, how do you unlearn that lesson as an adult in the world that you have to defend yourself? I just hate myself now every time I realize I once again let myself be someone’s doormat.

Kids today shouldn’t have to go through what I went through. We know more now. We now have websites like nospank.net where someone like me can tell what happened to them without sacrificing their privacy. My mom regretted spanking me once she finally told her about my fetish as an adult. She at least has the excuse that no one told her how bad the side effects could be. Parents reading this website no longer have that excuse. No child should have to sacrifice their developing sexual self just to face the painful violence of a parent who claims to love them.

Spanking children is harmful, painful, violent and must stop. Parents reading this: please do not use physical pain to discipline your children. ### carol