For many people, spanking is as much an auditory experience as a physical one. The crisp sound of smacks raining down on yielding flesh, soft murmurs and moans building in intensity to sharp pleas or tearful promises, the sigh of a belt being drawn loose, the swish of a cane, an indrawn breath, whispered threats. A harmony of sounds that set the tone and mark the pace, that link the players in this duet.
I revel in these sounds… draw them in, and shiver in their wake. I am not sure of the ones I contribute. I cannot think to control them, to mold them as I would have them be uttered into the world. They have a life and a mind of their own and often surprise me with their earnestness and power.
Those other sounds, the ones I do not make, can bolster or batter. I am extremely sensitive to sound. In my other life, I moderate it carefully. Here, I cannot. Here, I can only respond and react. In this elemental way I have surrendered to your orchestration; and every gasp and promise, every cry and silken moan, become your Muse.