Seeking out suffering

It may perhaps seem odd that people would choose to pay me to endure untold humiliation and suffering, these being experiences humans are usually thought to avoid. And yet in truth humans seek out suffering constantly, and pay for it too. Consider the fools who get flung about on rollercoasters: I’d sooner be caned all afternoon. Or those who purchase insanely hot curries that burn their palate, leave eyes watering and guts churning: what on earth for? Or seek out ghost films that see them sleeping with the lights on for weeks afterwards. Or do a PhD, fall in love with married men, take ice baths, abseil, sky-dive. All these activities will cause you discomfort and trepidation at best. And flagellation pre-dates them all. It’s part of the earliest human experience, informing religious worship, Dionysean festivals of ecstasy and excess: self-harm has always been seen as a highway to joy. If you’re a cerebral sort, inclined perhaps to overthinking, being beaten forces you out of your brain and into your body. Like an ice bath, actually, just less wanky.

 

Spanking has only comparatively recently been seen as sexual. Certainly it contains many of the same components as good sex: it relies on trust, honesty and good communication, and it’s a very different experience on your own. (Here actually the analogy breaks down, as you simply can’t spank yourself, anymore than you can tickle yourself. Heaven knows, I’ve tried). 

 

But for many of my clients there really isn’t a sexual component. Instead, they want the relief that tears bring; they want to be genuinely punished for some misdemeanour; they want to shake off depression, to feel something. In some parts of the world caning is used to treat mental health problems and addiction, with impressive results. The surge of endorphins and joy you get after a good thrashing is simply unparalleled. It’s a valuable tool in your journey to your mindfulness, too: you can’t worry about past or future when you’re being hit. There’s only the pain, and your response to it.

 

This is only anecdotal, admittedly, but all the spankos of my acquaintance seem unusually healthy, hearty, happy, possessed of good looks and unusual longevity: I have several clients in their 90s skipping gleefully about my school room, sticking their tongues out at me, challenging me to catch them. Of course spankos tend also to be wealthy and middle class, which is also associated with enjoying better health and longer lives. I suppose there might be ethical issues associated with thrashing the poor to see if it makes them healthier, although I would’t suggest it to the current government, in case it suddenly becomes policy.

 

With all these extraordinary benefits, it’s a shame masochists are too often seen as hilarious, bizarre, inexplicable and weird: the punchline to a joke no one asked to hear. It’s vastly more socially acceptable to risk your health plummeting down a ski slope than admit to visiting a dominatrix, and I won’t break your leg, even on my most careless day.