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The connection between sex and spanking has long been understood by sexual sophisticates, and one of the by-products of the Sexual Revolution has been a growing interest in erotic spanking. To understand why this should be so, we must examine the underlying psychological factors involved in sadism and masochism. The tendency to cause pain to the sexual object was designated in its two forms by German neurologist Baron Richard von Krafft-Ebing as sadism for the active form, and masochism for the passive form. Other authors prefer the narrower term, algolagnia, which emphasizes the pleasure in pain and cruelty.
The answer seems to be that spanking has an appeal to the unconscious regions of the mind, because the act of spanking is itself a symbolic form of sexual intercourse. The instrument of punishment is in effect a phallic symbol which, like the penis in ordinary intercourse, plays the aggressive role. The punishment is generally inflicted on the buttocks, which is the area closest to the genitals. Moreover, the most popular spanking position, the over-the-knee position, places the genitals of both parties in the closest possible contact short of intercourse. In addition, the redness achieved by the victim’s buttocks during the punishment resembles the color of the sexual organs, while the victim’s squirming and twisting movements are highly suggestive of coitus.
“Erica Schmidt reporting for punishment, Mr. Hopkins!” The words came out slowly and with obvious effort, and it was readily apparent that the attractive teenager who uttered them was having great difficulty retaining her composure.
Seated behind his oversize walnut desk, the Headmaster of Marshall Girl’s Academy did not at first look up from the report he was reading. The office of the chief administrative executive of the exclusive girl’s school located in the north of England was quite austere and not calculated to ease the anxiety of the miscreants who were regularly required to report there for discipline. At the moment, the only relief came from a partially opened window, through which drifted a warm breeze that served as a reminder that the spring of 1939 had been one of the most pleasant in years.
“Mr. Hopkins …” The girl’s words trailed off in despair. The comely eighteen-year-old knew that the wait was deliberate, and designed to increase her apprehension as well as humiliate her. Her hands clutched nervously behind her back, she could barely stand still. Her dark blue eyes constantly darted around the room, anxiously searching for that whippy, pencil-thin cane that she dreaded so much. For some reason which she did not comprehend, the hateful instrument was nowhere in sight. Normally, it was prominently on display.
Fictional reading for entertainment purposes only.