Contestant: "I'll take 'Multisensory Activities' for $500, Alex." Alex: "'This undertaking generates a lot of heat and often ends in tears.'" Contestant: "What is...spanking?" Alex: "Um...no, I'm sorry, we were looking for 'baking', 'What is baking?' You, sir, are a pervert. Next up..."
I am relatively new to the practice of spanking. Not the idea, mind
you, nor the desire, nor the fantasy, nor the consumption of
literature on the subject, nor of its performance art. But the
practice, yes. I have little experience on which to draw. As a good
interdisciplinarian, my approach is therefore to rely on expertise
gained from other fields that might help me to be a better spanker.
As I surveyed my other hobbies for applicable knowledge, I was at
first skeptical that cooking could provide such insights. I readily see
the link between cooking and pursuits like building train sets, tuning
engines, or computer programming. Hackery sure, but smackery?
Spanking is inextricably collaborative. Cooking is not, or at least
no more so than painting. I get very little out of self-spanking--it
is integrally incomplete--but I'm perfectly fulfilled being the only
one in the kitchen. To me at least, cooking is solitary and spanking
social. Would this not preclude a connection between these
activities? Alas, my analyses are never so concise.
 |
| "Um, what happens if I've overcooked the pasta?" |
One night, I found myself thinking more deeply about the associated
marvels of the culinary and disciplinary arts. Maybe it was the
meditative tedium of stirring risotto, the yantra of the arborio in
its broth. Or maybe it was the timber touch of the spoon guiding the
kernels along their course. Would my experience over a stove help me
in heating someone over my knee? Would I be as attuned to the
constitution of a cussed as I am to the condition of a custard?
Incidentally, I also wondered how many of my favorite food celebrities
are also into spanking--so Giada, if you're out there, love, please
send me a message.
Perhaps because of the dish I was preparing at the time, the patience
that cooking teaches was the first thought that came to mind. Within
my first couple of spanking experiences, I realized that reddening
butt was quite different than browning meat. Such crimsoning is more
akin to making a roux, requiring care and attention to the progression
and distribution of color. I'll admit that, on more than one
occasion, impatience has led me to burn my flower, making her
reluctant to revisit my kitchen.
Cooking has also taught me patience in another sense: that is,
patience in learning a craft. I've taken this lesson to spanking as
well. It is as easy to dabble in spanking as in cooking. With each,
however, there is a lot to learn. And there is definitely such thing
as skill. I can't just put on a toque blanche and call myself a
master chef. Nor would I be able to satisfy every itchy sub just
because I had chosen "Spanker" in my SpankoLife profile. The first
time I tried to peel a tomato, I ended up with a pulpy, red mess. Were
I to all of a sudden take up a cane, I fear that the first time around
I'd end up with the same.
Photo "Львица домашняя" ("Lioness Home") by Alexxei, via Visual Clips. Photo of lady opening pot courtesy of Curvature, original source unkown. Photo of pears enhanced by Dioneo Daspanca, original source unknown.
