The Imp -- The Imp Got Spanked

I teach 6th grade.  when the school year starts, most of my students are 11 years old, and by the time the year draws to a close, almost all of them have turned 12.

Twelve-year-old girls are right on the verge of becoming young women.  It is possible to see the women that they will be just a few years down the road.  The boys, however, are almost always younger seeming, still a year, or sometimes two, from making the transition to adulthood.  A twelve-year old boy is a delightful mixture of mischief and innocence and curiosity and charm and incipient knowing and almost visible potential coming into view. 

Living with Master these days is a little like having one of those boychicks right here in the house.  With each passing day, He wakes up from a years-long separation from the wonderful boy he must have been so very long ago.  With each day that passes, He seems to feel better and be clearer -- and it is as if He is new born. 

One of the most intriguing parts of this whole passage is the look in His eye these days.  He is so young-seeming, with a burgeoning awareness that seems to surprise and amaze Him.  His eyes gleam with delight and a mischeivious glint that just tickles me.  There's a sweet and endearing playfulness to it all -- He is such an imp, and it is clear that He has rediscovered His switchy side.  He has a renewed interest in spanking and He has a renewed interest in being spanked.  He wiggles and giggles and blushes so endearingly.  I just love seeing Him so entranced and so happily amazed by His own wonderful sensuality.  It is so joyous and so light and so good. 

And yes, the Imp did get spanked.  This morning.  Not terribly intensely -- enough to give Him some stinginess and a bit of pink warmth.  And then we switch and He spanks me, and the two of us revel in the pure, simple pleasure of knowing this about each other again.  It is the very best thing ever.  Ever.

swan