Would You Erase Your Spanking Fetish?

A piece by Louis Malteste

My play partner, an esteemed gentleman and fellow spanko, once asked me an intriguing question:

“If you could press a button that would erase your spanking fetish and make you forget it ever existed, would you?”

‘Tis a deep topic, surely. Such a move would, in theory, instantly transform us into people with vanilla preferences—people who didn’t think about spanking all day or feel embarrassed to see it pop up in old movies. We would then arrive home afterward, stumble upon our paddle collection, and exclaim, “What on earth are these and who put them here?!”

I swear, it's not mine!

With the intense challenges we spankos navigate, often from an early age, you’d think we would all answer ‘yes’ to this question. We struggle with confusion over our sexuality, shame over how different we are, misunderstandings in intimate relationships, difficulty finding compatible partners, and isolation in a largely vanilla world. I can attest that few factors have impacted my life more than having this fetish tattooed on my brain. 

Yet in spite of it all, my answer is NO! (Quelle surprise, eh?) I would not chop up my Spanko Card, for this fetish has filled my life with experiential riches. To erase it all could have disastrous implications. Here’s what being a spanko has done for me. 

My fetish pushed me to heal. 

I had no idea why I thought about this stuff so much as a kid. All I knew was that I had dark thoughts and no one around me seemed to share this obsession. “What’s wrong with me?” As I grew, I read psychology books and studies about fetishes. I went to therapy and listened intently when people brought up topics like masochism. I explored kinky subcultures and traveled the world in search of “my person,” or someone who at least understood my sexuality. In the process, I unearthed knowledge that brought my mental health to stable ground. There were spiritual awakenings. Painful discoveries. Relationships that showed me the difference between love and abuse. My mind was a hazy puzzle I was finally able to solve. I was never inherently broken; I just had CPTSD. To heal through self-awareness is a gift we all deserve. 

I know what turns me on and how I want to enjoy intimacy.

I’ve seen non-spanko friends struggle to form compatible intimate connections, partly because they weren’t sure what they liked or what they were looking for. They would go on dates or sign up for apps with a desire for closeness, only to find they couldn’t get deep with the people they met. Not being able to articulate their feelings around sexuality made it difficult to connect. (I have sympathy for anyone in this situation, as it’s surely a rough one.) Spankos don’t have this particular problem. We know what we like and once we find the courage to say it out loud, our path to fulfillment reveals itself. 

There’s always sexy fun to look forward to. 

Eat, work, gym, masturbate, sleep, eat, gym, masturbate, work, sleep, gym, masturbate, eat. Computer computer computer. Everyday life can be rather monotonous when we have no special plans on the calendar. But when I’m blessed enough to have safe people to play with, there’s always fun on the horizon. Spanking is a thrill that lights up my life when it happens with the right people. And speaking of which… 

I’ve met some fantastic folks. 

I won’t pretend every spanko is an upstanding citizen. We have exploitative, sketchy, douchey people in the scene, just like any other community. But the kewl spankos are super kewl, creative, down-to-earth badasses who love to play in ways that honor the inner child. They know all about what it means to drop the walls of the ego and engage from a place of bold vulnerability. In short, many spankos are brave muhfuckas who dare to keep it real. That authenticity is sunshine for my soul. 

This fetish sends me on many adventures.

Oh, the memories! Those years I worked in Japan with a pro dominatrix. The job interview that got me spanked at an LA dungeon. The fabulous performances I’ve seen while managing sex parties. The munches I’ve led and attended. The trip I took with my play partner to spank in the snow. All these moments were driven by the fuel of my spanking fetish and I think back upon each of them fondly. 

I’ve learned to love my body.

I remember the moment I developed an eating disorder in adolescence. I was in middle school and some boys were debating whether they thought I was fat, as if that was the worst thing a girl could ever be. For decades, I talked badly to myself about my body, especially during the eight years I lived in Japan, where clothing comes a size or two smaller. The spanko scene has helped me leave self-hatred behind. Most of us LOVE big bottoms! LOVE nice curves! Only a loser would diss my cellulite or urge me to care about such things. The people I play with are down with the thickness and when I look in the mirror these days, I think: “Nice.”

We’ve come a very long way from the “heroin chic” 90s!

I’ve learned what boundaries are and how to set them. 

I come from a family where setting boundaries makes you a bad person. That led to lots of problems when I ventured out into this crazy world full of vampires looking to suck us dry (especially as a young woman). Over time, I learned what boundaries were and how to set them, but what gave me the most practice was playing in the kink scene. We have to be vocal and straightforward about our feelings for these partnerships to work. Luckily, most spankos understand the risks of straying outside consensual territory. We want to talk about boundaries so everyone has fun. Without this fetish driving my relationships, I might still be a people pleaser. 

My understanding of power has sharpened through play.

Healthy relationships hinge on equality. A give-and-take must happen if we’re to feel respected. Many spanko dynamics revolve around power exchange, where one person is given a degree of control over the other, at least while play is happening. This has given me a clear sense of power imbalances outside of play. I can feel when people are being manipulative or trying to take more than I’m willing to give. I’ve also realized what it means to take my power back. The moment we stop playing along with a vampire, their illusion of control disappears. 

A fetish is a powerful muse.

Thinking about spanking gets my creative juices flowing. As far back as I can remember, my mind has conjured detailed fantasies related to my fetish, resulting in a lively imagination. I could write about spanking all day long, or draw pictures of pink bottoms, or take glorious photos of palms smacking cheeks. The stream of ideas is endless, as are the possibilities. 

Fetishism comes with uniqueness.

“I’ve heard about people like you, but never met one in person.” Outside of the spanko scene, this has been a theme while I’ve gotten to know people. Having a fetish isn’t a flex, but it does make us memorable. We’re diamonds in the rough. The differences between members of our grand human family make the world go round and we spankos, in our little corner of the kink sphere, are distinct in ways that delight me. 

At the end of the day, we all face challenges in life. We spankos have our cross to bear. Vanilla folks do too. I would not trade mine for theirs at this point, for the details I’ve shared here have shaped me into someone I like hanging out with. Can’t picture another way! To anyone struggling with our spanko set of issues, please know that I have been there, and things can indeed get better. 

So what say you, dear reader?  Would you erase your fetish? Why or why not?

-T