Converts

I'm fascinated by the women who are on the fence.

They're the ones who aren't aware. They're the ones who haven't faced it. They may understand the term "kink" but never applied it to themselves.

And yet they get a bit of a glow when you give them a gentle but firm order. They relax into a blissful daze when you start to take control. Their eyes go wide with pleasured surprise when you pin their wrists behind their back. They give a brief, happy "OH" when you plant your palm into the back of their jeans.

Will you ever actually get to the point when they're across your knee, squirming to avoid each stinging smack to their bare bottom?



There's a good chance. If you're careful, slow, and deliberate.

Don't get me wrong. I also love the lifelong aficionados like me--the ones who dog-eared their parents' dictionaries while they looked up the word "spanking" and all its synonyms. The ones who stared at the cover of Nancy Drew novels and thought "Nice bondage; now she just needs a tanning." The ones who tried out the wooden spoons in the kitchen on themselves.

But it's even more fascinating to meet the ones whose need to be disciplined is deep beneath the surface. Oh, it can be teased out. It can be raised up. But it's ever, ever so delicate to find just the right alchemy of control, care, firmness, discipline, and empathy. It's like a knot that you're gently untying, or a new tune that you're trying to piece together on the piano. Don't rush it or it's lost.

Do it right, and our team grows by one...