Nasty nurturer

When I top I feel a combination of nurturing mother and nasty, mean mom. Or, concerned educator/strict, unbending disciplinarian. I want to hurt him because he needs to be hurt, he needs the pain, he needs the release. I want to nurture him because he needs that, too, and I want to give it.

The two sides become intertwined. The “nurturing” may very well be the cruelty I am focusing on him. In a serious scene, he is the only other person there, whether we are playing in private or at a club or a party. Sometimes, if there are witnesses, that adds focus on him, and that’s a good thing. HE deserves this. HE has earned it. Look at HIM; he is being done to…

Oh, I know when certain other men watch our scene they are wishing they were in his place … and I LOVE that. I notice them on the periphery and I don’t usually acknowledge them, although sometimes I’ll make eye contact with an onlooker just as a nod of appreciation: “I know you like what you see happening here, and I appreciate the silent compliment.”

After a scene, if a witness approaches politely and is reasonably social and appealing, I’ll consider topping him next. But the focus is always on my sub/bottom until the scene is over. In private, of course, he gets every bit of my attention. Paddles NYC can be loud, so it’s hard to have a conversation. In private, I may have a man over my knee and we’ll have a good conversation about other matters, about relationships and work and life in general, while I’m slowly warming him up, our talk punctuated by slow but brisk spanks.

We eventually leave that safe space and move on to the harder play, the REAL spanking. If I didn’t, he’d be very disappointed. But I love those little moments where there’s an emotional connection as much as I love those gasps, grunts and sobs from the pain.

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