Oh, Madonna, I not only forgot about this song but also how much I loved it and also how shocked I was when I first heard it and frankly, still a little shocked. At the time, I could absolutely not comprehend that anyone, much less a beautiful, talented singer like yourself, wanted a “good spanky”, as you put it. In my head, there was no such thing as a good spanky. Spanking was solely in the bad category, and not the so bad it’s good, just straight up bad.
I grew up in the age of spanking. I received many a whack across the bottom. The story goes that my parents had to switch to a wooden spoon and/or a yard stick in meting out punishment because my mom broke a blood vessel in her hand once from spanking me. One of the family legends is how my dad, furious over my brother and my inability to get along while we were shoveling cow manure, found the nearest available punishing tool, which happened to be a large ragweed and used that to exact justice by whipping us about the legs. Another favorite story is after one good whupping my brother snuck into my parents’ bedroom to check out his butt in the full-length mirror to see how red it was.
Point being, the idea of someone deriving pleasure from being spanked was beyond my comprehension. It still kinda is, Madonna. I may have tried it now and again over the years, and I may have had it tried on me, but it just kinda hurts. And not in a “it hurts so good” kinda way. It just straight-up hurts. I’m guessing in this day and age where a whack across the tush is considered a gauche training method for children, the next generation might not have the same hang-ups as I do. It certainly didn’t keep me from enjoying this song, though.