I asked myself that question while perusing Rachel Kramer Bussel’s new anthology, Spanked: Red-Cheeked Erotica. Why is it such an inexhaustible subject? Part of the answer has to be Rachel’s own passion for the subject. She’s such an enthusiast that she easily inspires writers to look for new angles on an age-old lust. It doesn’t matter that Spanked happens to be her third anthology dedicated exclusively to this fine erotic art; the topic’s as fresh now as when her Pretty Things Press title, Naughty Spanking, Stories from A to Z, saw release.

What is it about spanking? The question kept floating back and forth in my thoughts over the last day or so. Memories of my own spanking experiences kept emerging as part my pondering. I remembered asking a dominant friend of mine who to get started in spanking. His recommendation? Start with a leather paddle. “It’s easy to aim,” he told me, “and you can control how hard to hit with it.”

I remembered my surprise the first time I employed my own hand to a naked male bottom — hell, it hurt! I discovered a man’s ass is far more muscular than it appears and that my small hands and slender wrists can’t match a man’s fantasy for a hard hand spanking. Sorry, just ain’t gonna happen.

And, yeah, it does hurt me more than it hurts you.

Through the years, many of my spanking discoveries defied my expectations. I learned that I personally can’t take the pounding hand spankings I’ve seen others take. Oh, I warm up just fine to those preliminary slaps, the ones meant to warm the skin and prep the flesh. But up the ante into full-fledge mode and you’ll find me at my physical limit in no time. It’s fine for an over-the-knee quickie (and I do enjoy pressing my belly against my superior’s erection during the agony), but no one has been able to figure out how to escalate a hand spanking so I can find blissful ecstasy in it. Or maybe I’m so sensitive that trying to get me there takes so long that it’s like watching paint dry.

Paddle me while I’m in blue jeans, however, and you’ll have me in heaven in no time. Dang, but doesn’t that feel good! And, if the friction’s right, I’ll get the spanking equivalent of rug burn. Yum!

I’ve found that for all the sting I can’t handle, I take a certain amount of thud just fine, thank you very much. The cane is exquisite torment. The paddle, trying. Especially if you use the spike side. (Beware: skin breaks damn easy. Which is fine with me, but if you’re taking my cue and bringing it to a partner, make sure you’re both prepared for it.) The flogger, the quirt, the single tail. I love to hate them all. And hate to love them as well.

If my experience can be both particular and varied, imagine the number of stories skilled writers can dream up. Maybe that’s why Rachel’s spanking anthologies work so well. So many implements, so many circumstances, so many perspectives…

Endless possibilities, all — and delicious reading for everyone.

Additional links: The Spanked, Red-Cheeked Erotica blog; the Spanked book trailer.