When Everything Came Out

This may be difficult for some to read. At points it was difficult for me to write and if I publish this I'm not sure if I won't ever delete it. I think it helps explain much of what I feel and helps me to put it into words. In any case, if this upsets you I would advise you to stop reading and move on to the next entry or another blog but what I say is all true, as is everything else I write on this site.

I know that much of my sexual needs stem from my childhood. I'm sure if you research Freud or spend some time in psychology texts you'll find out that a lot of our sexuality takes root in that period. At least that seems to be my case.
I grew up in a very strict household where punishment was the rule. The problem is it wasn't tempered with care or rationale. Most discipline was meted out angrily without distinction between the harmful and the helpful and I often ended up bruised and bloody after a misguided punishment. It wasn't pleasurable to me in the least, in fact I was deathly afraid of it, which is why I find it strange that I look for discipline as a grown man.
I wouldn't want it at the level I received as a child but I think the two are definitely tied together. In my fantasies I recall imaginary scenarios that salve my memories where spankings are done lovingly from a caring parent rather than as haphazardly and brutally as they were. I remember the pain being more than I could stand yet at times I find the idea of a strict parent sensual.
It's twisted I know. It's something I have grappled with for some time. It has reared its head in several of my relationships, both vanilla and non. I'm very protective of myself as a sub for this very reason and find myself discussing what should and shouldn't happen, a very unsubmissivelike managing of things, because I am afraid of going through what I went through many years ago.
Up until a few years ago I had blocked it out. I remembered very little but only during the post coital comfort and exchange of secrets did a past girlfriend draw it out. I don't remember what started it, but I made a casual mention to an act in my childhood which she, being a very compassionate woman, questioned me about. Without realizing it I had exhumed all I had kept hidden from myself. I cried silently, unable to decipher what I was feeling. She helped me through it but the flood of emotions came out that was unlike what I had expected before. It was freeing and exhiliarating though I felt weak and small. Though I had considered submission for sometime before that, I never really felt it at that moment. She was neither sub nor domme and I couldn't express it to her, even if I was able to identify it myself.

Many years later I was having a mostly sexual affair with a woman many years my senior. Our age difference was so great that I could almost be considered her son. When we went out many thought we were. We made a joke of it and would give them no reason not to think otherwise. We were just a very close mother and son.
She was dominant, which she established early on. She especially loved spanking and I spent a good deal of time over her lap getting spanked for some intentional or inadvertent error that angered her. She was adept at spanking and considered it one of a woman's innate talents. Afterwards we would make love until both of us shuddered and dropped into each others arms listlessly.
One time I committed an error that really upset her. I believed she behaved irrationally as well and called her on it. We spent some time not speaking and stewing over it but when that passed I was to be punished, which I knew would be the result.
I was stripped completely naked, a state I usually enjoyed around her but feared this time. I saw very little arousal in her at all. It was all about making up for the wrongs I committed and doing her duty as a woman and my elder.
It was a difficult evening. The punishment began without a warm up when I was put over her lap and given an uncountable number of slaps to my bare ass. None were soft and teasing and each was meant to provoke and sting without remorse. I don't remember when I started crying but I suspect it was earlier than usual.
There was little respite afterwards. I was put over the end of her bed where I was paddled briskly until I was shaking. Her talent with the paddle was cruel and was enough for one punishment session. Instead it was merely the intermission.
Unable to stand, I crawled to the center of her bed where I lay face down, my rear end an already swelling bruise. It was sometime around this point that I lost comprehension. I'm not sure if I ever went into subspace before and still question if I ever have but I slipped into a new state then. I was a child, bawling my eyes out, face in the pillow, small, weak, angry as my bottom was being whipped.
My lover was at that moment using the cane on me, something which I felt little of before that day and dreaded. She never used it for play since I hated it so. That night she used it without restraint. It was terrible pain. It burned and seared. I felt open, wet and uncomfortably hot. I was no longer able to speak but only blubbered, my face wet and my emotions running rampant through me. All I had ever felt growing up came through me at that time.
I felt angry, helpless, lost and hated but something else happened. I began to crave those feelings. They turned into something wonderful. I felt euphoric and thankful for the burning and my lover for administering what I so greatly needed.
The negative feelings; the hurt, the sadness, were replaced with love, security and acceptance. I still had difficulty ascertaining where and who I was but I knew everything was right in my world. I was loved and cared for and didn't need to know anything else.

I don't remember how long she actually punished me, though it was longer than I needed. I cried out at one point, a mixture of pain, anguish and ecstasy and she stopped soon after that.

I couldn't do anything. I could not move, speak or even think as I should. I couldn't receive affection though I'm sure she stayed to give it. I was in an emotional freeze, slowly thawing out to be the man I was, with slight differences.
I still have difficulty with much of this and still have horrible memories but I've come to accept them as part of who I am. I'm proud for overcoming what I've been through and thankful for all they've done for me, though I would never recommend it for anyone else. I struggle with it occasionally but I know ultimately that I have nothing to be afraid of. Perhaps it's made me hold my submission closer and understand it better.