Editor’s Note: The Cherry Red Report will periodically feature “Guest Columnists,” who will be writing and opining on various topics of interest to the spankophile/spankosexual community. [If you are interested in being a guest columnist, please contact the CRR editorial board of editorial directors, attn: Chief Editorial Editor, Dept. of Guest Bloggers.)
Top spanking/erotica novelist Devlin O’Neill author of the squirmy and sizzling “A Maid for All Seasons” series of spanktastic novels, is the latest guest columnist to be featured at The Cherry Red Report with a piece on “DomSpace.” Regarding his fiction, Mr. O’Neill has a way with words that is both exquisite and compelling and delightfully erotic, with a healthy sense of good, old-fashioned humor. OK, back to DomSpace. Now this blogger is somewhat familiar with MySpace. Cyberspace. Heck, even Hyperspace. And SubSpace – but DomSpace?? What’s that all about? Let us know what you think and feel free to leave a comment :-))
On a side note, Devlin’s previous guest appearance on CRR with a sharply written column called “Thongs vs. Bikini Panties: The Debate Rages On! praising bikini panties in all their variations, garnered a large amount of feedback, and nearly resulted in a public burning of thong panties.
The difference for Tops is that we’re actually doing something, moving our arms, holding onto a more or less squirmy brat, making sure the entire behind is well-attended, and so on, and concentrating on these vital details makes our entry into any similar blissful state problematic.
However, it does happen that this harmonic convergence is attained, and again, only under the right circumstances – right partner, right frame of mind, right panties correctly pulled down.
Only then will the Top’s arm motion become automatic, his hold on the squirmy waist an unconscious reflex, the correct placement of spanks as sure as an assembly-line robot welder, and once that occurs, like a long distance runner who has hit the burn, the Top’s mind is freed to soar with the eagles, unfettered by worldly considerations, at one with the universe comprised of only himself and the Bottom upon his lap or bent over the arm of his sofa.
Of course, once I’ve begun to approach that threshold, any scolding, real or made up, will cease – otherwise I feel sure whatever I say from then on would be utter gibberish. I do realize some Bottoms of my acquaintance consider ALL my scolding to be gibberish, but that’s quite beside the point, and this essay isn’t about Bottoms in any case. You girls get too much ink as it is.
Will this simply go on forever? How and when does it stop? The reader had better quit interrupting me, because I was getting to that.
Fortunately, or not, this state is tenuous at best, and any distraction can break its hold. Then of course there’s the matter of fatigue, because even the strongest arm eventually will tire, and if both Top and Bottom are in their respective space, that will occur long before the Bottom’s pain limit has been reached – theoretically anyhow.
At this point, when the spanking ceases for whatever cause, and both participants reel themselves grudgingly from their blissful stupor, ideally they will hold and caress one another, and, unable to speak, will converse volumes with their eyes, and commune at a level unknown to humankind since the dawn of creation.