have a confession to make.  Please don’t publicize this.  If it got out, it might ruin my career:  I don’t like spankings.  Not one bit.  At least... not when they’re happening to me, anyway. 

Which, of course, is the exact opposite of what I’ve spent most of my life obsessing about.  All of the hours I’d spent searching “spanking” on Google and looking at every possible viable entry on every single page, hoping for some reasonable tidbit of intelligent fiction or conversation about the topic, which was about as scarce as hens’ teeth. 

But the pure, basic truth is that disciplinary spankings hurt, whether you’re six or sixty.  That’s the whole reason for their existence.  My previous attempts at living an intimate authority type of relationship fell distinctly flat because of that.  I think he was afraid of hurting me.