RIGHT SMACK IN THE MIDDLE!
Quite simply, I love how getting it feels and I love how giving it looks (the extent of my practical experience). I’m talking about that spank right across the middle of some naughty girl’s or boy’s bottom. It’s where I like to think my mother would’ve smacked me just to get my attention and stop me in my mischief-making tracks. “Owww!”
After all, it’s such a natural target. Especially in its natural state of utter and unedited bareness. The smack across the crack (or, if you’re squeamish, the gluteal cleft) is all about punctuating the spanking itself as an expression of authority. That immediate, incomparable jolt of electric sting says in no uncertain terms that the backside in question is the personal property of its punisher. The aforementioned miscreant is nothing but its caretaker, with any complaints to be directed to Mother Nature.
If we concern ourselves with the lower regions of Middlebum (as I wickedly insist we do), one can’t help noticing the warnings of High Voltage. Getting spanked down there puts Naughtiness, at least for the squirming and squealing time being, on the highest available shelf. We’d never wish to get rid of it entirely, for heaven’s sake, but spanks of the sort we see that bottomly buxom schoolgirl receiving do tend to take the shine off being bad.
Or so the story goes. In my case, with the sting of a spanking being a narcotic and me (or, if you’re a grammarian, I) an incorrigible junkie forever wanting my pants pulled down and my bare bum paddled (strapped would be nice) seven shades of red, getting spanked where my naughtiness lives is Paradise. A very warm, hard statement of fact.
A spank right across the middle of the bottom, when I’m looking at it, is spanking’s perfect pitch, its epic poem, its masterpiece. It’s as close as I expect I’ll ever get to understanding exactly what convergence of circumstance and inspiration resulted in the very first over-the-knee warming of a barenaked bum. I can’t help thinking I was there in spirit. The rest, as they say, is history.