Dallas — Spanks Hard ((better))

He asked for this. In triplicate, via a signed negotiation form.

By J.L. Sterling

On a Tuesday night, while most of Dallas sips martinis in Uptown or argues over the Cowboys’ play-calling, a different kind of energy pulses behind a black-painted door with no sign. Inside, a woman in stiletto boots and a tailored vest—known only as “Miss Raven”—tightens a suede flogger. Across the room, a former Marine with a silver beard is being bent over a polished sawhorse. dallas spanks hard

“My job is all decisions and liability,” says a 40-year-old corporate attorney who plays under the name “Chip.” He is currently bent over a leather ottoman in a private play space near Deep Ellum. His partner, “Vivian,” is methodically turning his pale backside the color of a Texas sunset. “Here, I have zero decisions. I just feel. It’s the only way I can shut off my brain. And Vivian? She doesn’t hold back. That’s the deal.” The most surprising thing about the Dallas spanking scene isn’t the volume—though the crack of a paddle can echo like a gunshot in a quiet room. It’s the laughter. He asked for this