I have wanted to be suspended, with my hands spread apart--that was always very important because I felt that it would hurt more than to have them bound together--and whipped for nearly as long as I can remember, for trumped up or imaginary offenses. This was well before puberty, BTW. I first imagined my dad doing it, then others, eventually my wife (never actually happened), then by other fantasized women, preferably accompanied by going without food for several days as well. Or being dropped off on the outskirts of Las Vegas (a fairly small place in the early 60's), naked, and being forced to walk home (~4-5 miles), obviously barefoot, mostly at night, through the stickers and cacti, without food or water.

And no I wasn't abused as a child growing up, other than the occasional spanking, unless you count having to listen to my dad brow-beating my mother most of the time for her apparent (in his perfectionist eyes) weaknesses and foibles.