In subspace no one can hear you scream

Subspace has always been a mysterious phenomenon to me, a mystical state of mind that has been described in various ways by those of you who are able to reach it. If you have to ask what an orgasm feels like, you have probably never had one, and I believe the same holds true for subspace. I may have had a glimpse of it once in the past, but only for a moment.

We were recently engaged in a particularly enthusiastic spanking. Ron had four implements lined up and ready to apply to my bottom: three wooden paddles of various sizes and shapes, and one leather paddle. As each one in turn hit my tender derrière I let out a protest. My "Ow!" was especially loud when the paddle hit what my husband calls my wow spot, the area that spans the base of my buttocks and the tops of my thighs. It is a tender place and the swats hurt much more there.

So we went on, and each time a different implement smacked against me I felt a fresh wave of pain. I was beginning to fear that I had lost my resilience and was not longer up to hard spankings. Then, unexpectedly, my world shifted. I had an odd sensation of floating; I was hovering over myself as I lay there. I could still feel the bed under me, but somehow I was also detached from it. Was this subspace? The thought immediately came to mind, then I worried that if I tried to acknowledge it or analyze it, the feeling would vanish.

It didn't. The nice, floaty feeling stayed with me. The swats continued from cheek to cheek, and they no longer bothered me. I didn't even feel them. The ones to the tops of my thighs still seared me, but i merely acknowledged the pain and moved away from it. At some point I realized that I had become silent, so I struggled to respond, but the only sound I could manage was "Mmmm." Ron concluded the spanking by saying, "We're done. You've stopped being noisy."

I blinked and wondered what would happen when I stood up. Nothing much, except that I didn't want to come down quite yet. I asked Ron to rub some lotion on my bottom, and that prolonged the return to reality for just long enough.

I rarely think of looking at the clock both before and after a spanking, but for some reason this time I did. Ten minutes had elapsed since we began, and that was ten minutes of continuous spanking, with only a short pause to switch implements. I'm guessing that the final two, or possibly three, were spent in that mysterious netherworld.