A few years ago I worked for $54 a day as background talent, read ‘extra,’ on the set of the movie “Seabiscuit.”
I spent six weeks doing that, and if I sat with you while we zipped through the DVD I could show you my 5.5 seconds of fame, as I walked, dressed to the nines in a suit and hat from the 1930s, along a path at Santa Anita racetrack, the camera behind me. Then I happened to run into a cousin who is a REAL movie worker, a makeup artist, and she told me that another term for ‘background talent’ amongst REAL movie workers, grips, drivers, electricians, sound and lighting people, etc., is ‘props that eat.’ Okay – I wasn’t all that proud of my cinematic achievement to begin with, so rather than be insulted, that struck me as very funny.
However, it came to my attention recently that at least one Bottom had NO idea why we Tops do what we do – spank her naughty behind more or less strictly – and I believe it incumbent on me, publicly and here and now, to set the record straight. Tops are NOT mere spanking implements that eat. This one isn’t, at any rate. We are not doing this simply because you need it, want it, can’t go very many days without it or you get crabby and start ordering crap from the QVC channel at three o’clock in the morning.
The prompt for this diatribe was that the Bottom whom I mentioned asked me a question – well, several. She was in an introspective mood, reading blogs and web sites in excess, seeing so many points of view that she became confused and unsure of her own reasons for being in this thing of ours at all, unsure of her place in the space. There were other, more immediate reasons for this uncertainty but they are irrelevant here, and in any case Uncle D was honor bound and more than pleased to respond. So this, in part, was my answer to her queries – Why do you like it? What’s in it for the Top? Why do guys – why do YOU – want to spank my bottom? What’s the emotional investment for YOU?
These are more than fair questions, and ones that should be addressed, so here is this Top’s take on the issue.
Girls’ bottoms are pretty, they’re interesting, they excite me. Other parts of a girl’s body can excite me too, but for as long as I can remember it’s her behind that has been most compelling. I want to watch it, be near it, touch it if appropriate, and spank it if possible.
The soft curves divided by that deep mysterious cleft fascinate me – always have, always will. There is nothing in creation quite so perfectly shaped, in my view, as a girl’s behind – in shorts, jeans, snug trousers, tight panties, bare, or even under a clingy skirt. I played with and spanked my girl cousin’s bottom when we were four or five, and I’m sure that has something to do with my lifelong fixation. In any case, I’d rather fondle a fanny than any other body part, and spanking is but fondling taken to the extreme. I like to slap a firm, round bottom, watch it flinch, jiggle, wriggle and turn red, all the while its owner squeals and whimpers and complains.
As to my emotional investment, it varies with the girl. Some I’ve spanked simply because I had no one else on my dance card. But if she’s someone I really like, then, as she said, I’m invested, and smacking her bare, upturned tushy gives me a very agreeable twinge in a place where agreeable twinges are most appreciated. That doesn’t usually mean an erection, but something very close and just as pleasant. This physical reaction always accompanies a sensual, all over good feeling, brought on by the exertion of pumping my arm and keeping a tight hold on a more or less squirmy waist. Of course, the act of spanking any girl triggers fond memories of other girls, all the girls I’ve spanked, on an emotional and subliminal level, so one spanking is, to my subconscious, many spankings all piled into the one event, which merely increases my thrill, my enjoyment of that moment.
This reaction, this enjoyment, this thrill doesn’t exist in a vacuum. My liking for and emotional attachment to the girl plays a big role, naturally, as does the tone of our interaction, whether I’m scolding, play scolding, bickering with her, or even talking about other guys she’s been spanked by at that particular party. I played with a friend a couple of weeks ago, and while I spanked her very soundly we chatted about RenFests and her ideal boyfriend, and I got several MOST agreeable twinges, simply because her rather abundant bottom could take quite a bit of exercise and she wriggled it so adorably when the sting started to get to her, over several separate episodes neither of us bothered to count. It simply felt good to me, all over, to heat her heinie, and I’m quite sure the feeling was mutual.
But speaking of subconscious and subliminal effects – over time I have fantasized so often about spanking girls, looked at pictures, videos, read books and stories, and written them of course, that playing out the fantasy imbues the actual event with an even more highly charged thrill. When I did my first video it was the first time I spanked anyone besides a girlfriend or close girl acquaintance, and I think my mind sort of shut down, unable to deal with such a rush of thereto unimaginable happiness at being able to spank not one but two fairly attractive and very willing girls. I told someone shortly thereafter that it didn’t seem like it was ME there, spanking the girls; putting the thermometer into a real, live, puckered anus; taping a diaper on a naked, nubile actress; sending them both, bottoms red with my handprints and paddle marks, to the corner as the cameras whirled. I was on autopilot, my brain unable to cope with so much joy at once, concentrating on saying my lines, keeping my body and the girl’s open to the camera – anything not to think about the fact that I was the luckiest human being on the face of the planet. Didn’t stop my body from reacting, and my under shorts were a bit damp and sticky when I left the set. Well, my questioner did ask.
She also brought up the issue of a certain Top who was more interested in sex than spanking, and spanked her only to be polite – or more likely to simply get past it and on to what he really wanted. Okay, I didn’t like the guy much so don’t go by me. Yes, we all know that spanking can be foreplay, but the problem with sex as an end to itself is just that. Once you’ve had it, that’s the end, for the guy anyway, at least for a while, and the older the guy the longer the while. But with spanking I can go on and on, enjoying myself, getting my subtle jollies upon the object of my greatest desire – a sweet, hot, red bottom – for an indeterminate amount of time. And of course the possibility of variation is endless, even if I never move the girl off my lap. Slow and hard, fast and light, many or few, quick and firm, right in the center, down at the sit spot, across the cleft for that nice hollow popping sound that so delights me and so embarrasses some girls, or even down inside the delicate groove, something that very much embarrasses my most favorite spankee whom I’ve never spanked, the one who asked me these questions. I adore her bottom, even though I’ve never seen it. I fantasize about it, idealize it, caress it in my dreams, spank it bright red in an infinite number of naughty scenarios.
Be that as it may, I went on to talk of other things spanking, as they apply to men in general. It’s a control thing – the whole ‘I’m the guy and you do what I say or I’ll blister your bottom, young lady’ business. That speaks more to the ‘how’ and ‘what’ than the ‘why,’ though. That isn’t to say I don’t enjoy the submissiveness, but to me it’s more permission than submission – “I like you, Dev, so I’m going to let you spank my bottom.” Scolding, toppiness, ‘the very idea!’ – all are window dressing, but fun, even delightful when done well and both partners are on the same page. I love to scold, and girls love it too, most of them – but naughtiness is a state of mind, not an act, and I’ll swat your impertinent behind just as hard no matter what you do. We – spanko males – are all about the bottom, its firmness, its curviness, its accessibility, and the heated tenderness we can impart to it. We are invested in it, involved with it and its owner, because this is the stuff dreams are made of. And we love living our dreams.
So my questioner mulled at that a while, the above highly edited essay, and we went on to chat about other issues. When we returned to this topic, I made the following remark: “You do realize what you’re lying on top of, when you’re across my lap, right?”
Apparently she hadn’t realized anything of the sort, and as she then said, a light bulb went on in her head. All the many times she’d been draped across hard thighs, prone on beds and sofas, bent over chairs and hassocks, feeling the heat of palm and paddle, strap and switch, relishing the heat and emotion thereby imparted, it was only in that instant that she understood the reason Tops do what we do, and why we much prefer to have our adorable subjects face down upon our laps. She finally got it – a true epiphany. She knew! At last!
I told her that I had tried to say WHY Tops do what we do, in story after story, novel after novel, but obviously my message was far too subtle. We do it for the agreeable twinges in our naughty bits. I do, anyhow.
Some Tops want a Bottom to lie still and take it. Not me. I want her squirming, wriggling, writhing in painful, wanton abandon while I spank her hard and hold her close against my most agreeably twinging cock, thank you very much. Yes, we Tops may get a similar feeling while briskly landing a paddle, belt or strap on her tightly rounded bottom as she bends over the sofa arm, especially if she’s been VERY bad and needs to be taught a lesson. But nothing compares to the absolute ecstasy of a squirmy behind firmly held upon one’s lap, turning brighter and brighter red while one’s arm cranks like a 427 Hemi piston and her butt cheeks bounce like a Shaq dribble and fake. Is that butch enough for you? I fucking well imagine!
So, girls – Bottoms – ladies – students – you DO need your tushies toasted, your rumps roasted, your heinies um … hosted? But NEVER get the idea that you are the only ones invested, the only ones getting your rocks off, no matter how much your female essence dampens our trouser legs. Spanking is a GUY thing. We invented it. We relish it. We cherish the very thought of it. We get so hot and bothered when we blister your bottoms that we grunt like animals and wet our under shorts with male essence. And it’s all your fault! The very idea!
Photo credits: AuFil de Jours, Manusturbari, Girls Boarding School
