The difference between men and boys are the price of their toys. It is a shame that when we grow up we have to give up the things that make us who we are and put on this persona of who we will become. The problem is, we will only become that persona after several years. So for a long time the boy/man wanders around not knowing who he really is. He after much bumping of head eventually morphs into the persona he becomes, puts aside his boyish mannerisms and like the humble caterpillar becomes a moth.
What happens when, due to circumstances totally beyond his control, the man morphs into a boy, almost over night. Suddenly the love of his life has to become his mother, not only that, the boy informs his wife/mother that he has had the most frightening dream. In the dream the boy/man annoys the w/m and she like a mom takes her husband/boy over the maternal lap and using a variety of different implements changes the colour of his ass not satisfied until it resembles a shade of purple with tinges of black and blue. His behaviour becomes almost angelic to say the least. The mere thought of incurring the matrimonial wrath sends the man/boy into paroxysms of fear.
Having had a fascination for spanking ever since he was old enough to want attention and since he discovered that any attention was infinitely better than none he became a brat par excel lance and as a result getting spanked got him all the attention he needed. The down side was that due to the proverbial sitapon being in a state of heightened sensitivity. sitting was a painful exercise and that sleep was best attempted on the belly. Moms, aunts, big sisters girlfriends all got to play a part in the circle of life spank, cry or howl, tears, voicing of contrition and so on.
I was never interested in getting spanked from the father figure, personally I was shit scared of him so attention from him was highly unwelcome. Getting it from a female was and is a major turn on.
I walk around looking at women and see myself buck naked over their lap getting the skin of my ass fried to a crisp. I've been told to be careful of what I wish for. It could backfire on me.
I lost my mother early last year and that raised some ugly issues. Raised as I was in a pseudo catholic tradition, the importance of the mother in the Portuguese family takes on epic proportions, it was always stressed upon us that your mother was someone special as she was the one who bore you, you bonded by drinking from her breast. She suckled you, in her arms you were safe. To a child the mother is truly indispensable. Then the day you have her memorial service you get handed a copy of her last will and testament. In it you find that the one person who is supposed to love you, the one who held you in her arms and nursed you at her breast has with her dying wish forever banished you from her life. to her it is as if you had never existed. Why? I'll never find out. To think she travelled 8000 kms to visit her great grand children 4 months before her death, but could not acknowledge to the world that Malcolm Eduardo Monteiro is the youngest son of Jean Monteiro.
I want to put it on public record and to tell the world that I love you mom, I always have and I always will.
Wednesday 27 February 2008
Thursday 21 February 2008
Time marches on
They say that time waits for no man. The most it does is look back at you and you feel as though you have been left behind again. I look back on my life and I have to be honest, there are times I wish that I had done things differently. My kids are grown and for the most part are a joy to have around me. There is one area that maybe I should have done a long time ago.
You read about gays coming out and all that, how it was such a big thing to do, never realising that coming out as a spanko is just as traumatic. I never in my wildest dreams could have imagined how difficult it is. Only within the spanking community does one find understanding let alone acceptance. I tried, naively to get my best friend to understand how I feel, what kicked this off, she wanted to know. I tried to explain, telling her about the dream I had in which she took me to a place called Spankland. Spankland for those non spanko's, the place all naughty boys and girls go when ever their tails are getting aquainted with either a hand, a slipper, a paddle, a hair brush , a strap, belt or cane. Prolonged exposure to any of the above leads the one being spanked to spend time in spankland , wishing they had never done whatever it was they had done to cause their partner, wife, husband or top to punish them.
You may ask what is it that fascinates me about spanking. They argue that it cannot possibly be pleasant getting your backside turned red, or black and blue. I suppose that ever since I was a young teenager I have always been fascinated with mom's and have always had this need or desire to be like a little boy around a mother.
Strong women are a distinct turn on, Sometimes they scare me, why I don't really know. but they do. I think the first one to turn on my fascination was Celestina, my older sister. She was more of a mother to me than a big sister, being 9 years older than me meant she was a grown woman, I was still a little kid. She on more than one occasion took me to spankland and kept me there for many long minutes. I read a story the other day about a kid who got a pants down, over the knee spanking from his piano teacher, in all likelihood his first ever. He wrote and i quote "She had me begging for her to stop real soon, but she was a mama, and I was getting a Mama spanking from this lady. A 'teacher' spanking is a few swats and behave yourself. A Mama spanking is a whole different thing altogether. A Mama spanking takes a boy to the heights of spankland, where nothing exists but his butt and his mama's hair brush. All the pride of how big a man he is has long since vanished. All his shame in bawling like a little child is long forgotten. The sound of the cracking with each lick of her hair brush mingles with is own squalling and begging for mercy so that they become one in his mind. And even his pleas have long since become one long blubbering, incoherent to the point that only he and Mama understand what he's begging for.
But, being Mama, she is deaf to those pleas and squalls. She is not out to simply remind him of where he is and that he should behave. Her objective is to make it Real clear to him that he will Never behave like that again without being subject to the worst nightmare of his young life...again."
It struck me that these were the type of spankings I got as a child from Celestina. She would take me , pull down my shorts and wallop me until she thought that I had learned the lesson she was teaching me. If I demonstrated that I had not learned the lesson she kept right on spanking. Sometimes she felt the need to reinforce the lesson, she would then take a switch , usually a willow tree or quince tree branch and use that to enforce the lesson. I was a slow learner, or was that just plain naughty,
Now regarding spankland, it is not my favourite place to be, but at this moment it is probably the place I need to be the most. Having said that , it is more than likely a place I would not be seeing in the future either distant or close as I am having difficulty finding someone to take me there.
You read about gays coming out and all that, how it was such a big thing to do, never realising that coming out as a spanko is just as traumatic. I never in my wildest dreams could have imagined how difficult it is. Only within the spanking community does one find understanding let alone acceptance. I tried, naively to get my best friend to understand how I feel, what kicked this off, she wanted to know. I tried to explain, telling her about the dream I had in which she took me to a place called Spankland. Spankland for those non spanko's, the place all naughty boys and girls go when ever their tails are getting aquainted with either a hand, a slipper, a paddle, a hair brush , a strap, belt or cane. Prolonged exposure to any of the above leads the one being spanked to spend time in spankland , wishing they had never done whatever it was they had done to cause their partner, wife, husband or top to punish them.
You may ask what is it that fascinates me about spanking. They argue that it cannot possibly be pleasant getting your backside turned red, or black and blue. I suppose that ever since I was a young teenager I have always been fascinated with mom's and have always had this need or desire to be like a little boy around a mother.
Strong women are a distinct turn on, Sometimes they scare me, why I don't really know. but they do. I think the first one to turn on my fascination was Celestina, my older sister. She was more of a mother to me than a big sister, being 9 years older than me meant she was a grown woman, I was still a little kid. She on more than one occasion took me to spankland and kept me there for many long minutes. I read a story the other day about a kid who got a pants down, over the knee spanking from his piano teacher, in all likelihood his first ever. He wrote and i quote "She had me begging for her to stop real soon, but she was a mama, and I was getting a Mama spanking from this lady. A 'teacher' spanking is a few swats and behave yourself. A Mama spanking is a whole different thing altogether. A Mama spanking takes a boy to the heights of spankland, where nothing exists but his butt and his mama's hair brush. All the pride of how big a man he is has long since vanished. All his shame in bawling like a little child is long forgotten. The sound of the cracking with each lick of her hair brush mingles with is own squalling and begging for mercy so that they become one in his mind. And even his pleas have long since become one long blubbering, incoherent to the point that only he and Mama understand what he's begging for.
But, being Mama, she is deaf to those pleas and squalls. She is not out to simply remind him of where he is and that he should behave. Her objective is to make it Real clear to him that he will Never behave like that again without being subject to the worst nightmare of his young life...again."
It struck me that these were the type of spankings I got as a child from Celestina. She would take me , pull down my shorts and wallop me until she thought that I had learned the lesson she was teaching me. If I demonstrated that I had not learned the lesson she kept right on spanking. Sometimes she felt the need to reinforce the lesson, she would then take a switch , usually a willow tree or quince tree branch and use that to enforce the lesson. I was a slow learner, or was that just plain naughty,
Now regarding spankland, it is not my favourite place to be, but at this moment it is probably the place I need to be the most. Having said that , it is more than likely a place I would not be seeing in the future either distant or close as I am having difficulty finding someone to take me there.
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