Girlfriend/boyfriend

I'm not sure that I will ever be a normal lover.
I know that I am submissive, I enjoy spankings, and someday I would like to do some pretty dirty things in the bedroom. But none of these things is all encompassing of a real and full relationship.

I can't stand intimacy like that with a male. I can be best friends with girls... all my best friends have always been girls. But I don't get along with guys. I don't fight with them. I just don't speak to them. I don't want to say that I'm afraid of them... it's more like I don't know what to say to them. Everyone tells me to just act like I act with girls, just talk about random stuff.

But I can't.

I don't like when guys flirt with me because it makes me feel disgusting. Not because they are acting disgusting or disrespectful... but I get a feeling in my stomach that just feels terrible.

This is why I like going clubbing. Because I can let loose and be a complete slut, and there are no repercussions or judgments for it, and no one has to fucking talk. Let's be honest, club dancing is just dry sex, dry humping, and you are just a faceless, sweaty body in the crowd.

But that has gotten me into trouble before. One of the last times I went to a club in college, I was totally drunk, totally wild. I started dancing with this guy because he offered me a drink. Why the hell not, I thought. It's Thursday night, no one gives a shit, let's just play and call it a night. I danced with him, grinded on him, I think I even gave him a lap dance, I unbuckled his belt, I did everything to make him believe that he had "scored." Then when the night was over, he started whispering in my ear about something. He wanted to go home with me. I just laughed and said, no, sorry, I gotta go home with my friends. I'm the driver tonight. I have to go home. I have class tomorrow. He was getting pissed, and that was making me anxious. He said he had to go pay his bar tab, will I wait for him? I said, umm yeah sure. But I didn't. I just wanted to leave, so I grabbed my girl friend's hand and we ran across the street to sober up. I really was the driver and I had drunk too much. The cold air would help, I thought. We hung out for about 30 minutes and then started walking to my car. And that guy was there. So fucking pissed. He started yelling at me through the passenger's side, across my poor sophomore friend who was terrified and had no idea what to do. I told him, I'm sorry you got that impression from me, but I need to go home. He was so incredibly mad, I was scared he'd hurt my friend or damage my car.

"Don't FUCKING do that that people. Don't dance for drinks like that and LEAVE. Let me just tell you that I know girls who have gotten HURT for that kind of shit. I know people who would FUCK you up for something like what you just did. Don't ever fucking pull that kind of shit again."

He kept repeating this. And all I could say was, We have to go, we have to go.

Eventually, I drove away, my friend and I both sitting in silence, the night completely ruined.

I slut-shamed my own self. Was that my fault? Was I not to supposed to accept his drink and dancing if I wasn't going to go home with him? Did I push too far? And then this boiled over to rage. Am I a fucking PROSTITUTE? Because we had a good time at the bar, I am OBLIGATED to suck your cock? Just because you have blue balls, I'm supposed to feel SORRY for you?

Maybe it was unclassy of me. Maybe that's not how it works downtown. But I felt such an extreme mixture of guilt, anger, and disgust that I just wondered how I was ever going to be a normal person.
How can I have all these highly "slutty" desires, and yet be such a prude? I'm a complete cocktease, and I lead people on. I can see why that guy would think I was going to fuck him. Because I basically fucked him on the dance floor. That was an extreme case, but this is not the first time that sort of thing has happened.

And even if I met a nice guy who didn't expect all those things of me, I don't want to do anything "romantic" either. I can't stand the thought of someone kissing my mouth, or hugging me, or caressing me. It literally makes my stomach turn over. They aren't disgusting acts, I know this. But it disgusts me anyway.

Spanking is different... it's harsher. It's not a light touch (or at least it shouldn't be). And the idea of a spanking does turn me on... but I still can't... put it together in the context of romance or sex. Will there ever be a guy who could deal with that? You can spank me, but don't put your hands on me anywhere else. Don't touch me in public. Don't kiss me. Don't hug me. Don't cuddle with me. Just. Don't. Touch. Me.

This post doesn't have any chronology or order to it... Even I don't understand how all these things fit together. But the (bare) bottom line is that I either need to seek more therapy, or prepare for a life surrounded by the warmth of cats.

Faceless

I actually hope that T will never find and read this blog.

I was talking to another Dom/spanker online, and he told me that yes, he has lots of experience. Years, in fact. But there have been many times that he felt used as a person, as a spanker, because of the way that spankees treat him. I didn't understand.
"Spanking isn't a one-sided street. There should be gratification for both the spanker and the spankee. And I don't mean sexually. But as you know, the spankee does top from the bottom. So if she sits there and dictates everything, and then you never see her again, talk to her again, except when she wants another spanking, what does that make me? I've had years of experience, but I'm no paid professional. If I was being paid for this, feeling used wouldn't be an issue."

In some ways, I do understand what he's saying because I know for a fact that I am one of those girls.

Of course, I do talk with T online and we chat about a variety of things, not just spanking-related. But the truth is that I don't even remember his face. I don't think that I care to know what he looks like. In the simplest terms, I AM using him. He's a married man, and I know that there is no long-term relationship to be had between us. It's not that I don't want a long-term relationship, but it's not realistic to expect it.

Spanking has been so much of a fantasy thing for me that I'm having trouble understanding it as a reality right now. I want to be well-spanked, but I don't care to be emotionally involved with anyone.

I told T I don't really like to be touched, and he said he did notice that. And besides the fact that I don't like being touched by anyone, I especially don't want to be hugged and cuddled by someone who just spanked me. Because it is a truly intimate thing, yes, but I don't feel intimate with that person.

Real Punishment

I talked to T about making our next meeting a "real punishment," and of course, he wasn't opposed to it.
"What do you think you need to be punished about? You're definitely a lot sassier than I expected."
"I'm not sassy. I'm so sweet, what are you talking about?"

I told him that I have issues controlling my temper. This is not a lie. I don't think that I am perfect, but my biggest, worst flaw is my irritability, my temper, my inability to quell feelings of annoyance.
"Yeah, I can tell."
"What do you mean?"
"Even in your first spanking, when it started hurting for real, you raised your voice at me. You have a tone."
"Well, I didn't even know. If I did that, I didn't mean to."
"I know you didn't mean to. But I wouldn't want to be on the receiving end if you did mean to."

I tell him I don't direct it at people I don't know. I direct it at people I love, the people I'm closest to.
"And how do you think that makes them feel?"
"I'm sure they feel like shit. But I feel bad about it too."
"It sounds like you need to grow up and learn how to control your emotions."

That part drives a tiny sting into me. A sting of real annoyance.
"Don't tell me to grow up," I say. "I AM grown up. It's just this one thing."
"And if we were talking in person, you would be over my knee right now for snapping at me like that."
"Like what??"
"'Don't tell me to grow up'? You don't talk to me like that."
I soften him up with some light-hearted humor, but am secretly scared that he could detect that tinge of irritability so easily. And I'm glad we aren't talking in person.

I had told him about my new purchases and he said that for next time, he was going to make me regret ever wanting to be punished, ever snapping at anyone in my whole life. I made him tell me what he was going to do because otherwise I would be anxious every day until we met. He wouldn't tell me everything, but he did say he would take down my panties this time (I made him swear he wouldn't the first meeting), warm up with his hand a little, and alternate using the hairbrush and the bath brush.

"Believe me, you're not sitting down for a week."
"I already couldn't sit down for a week from the last time."
"Then you aren't going to be able to sit down for 2 weeks."

On one hand, I am thrilled and so excited. I can't say that my first spanking wasn't painful. There were  moments when I thought that I absolutely couldn't stand it, especially when he was using the hairbrush. But it was a good pain, a thrilling pain. So I'm excited to try something even more intense.

On the other, I'm actually genuinely scared. I've never been spanked with a bath brush before. I've tried a couple times on myself, and it definitely has a heavy sting, but I've never done more than a couple smacks in a row either. T is a nice guy and we joke around A LOT. I don't know if I'll be ready to handle a stern and strict T. He's much stronger than me, and I know I won't be able to twist my way out if it gets too bad. It's equally thrilling and terrifying. And I kind of love it.

Implement shopping

During my lunch break, I went shopping to see what selection of bathbrushes they had... I ended up buying a small rounded bamboo hairbrush, and a heavy wooden bathbrush. I was blushing the whole time. Why? No one (who isn't a spanko) would see anything strange about this! I was about to buy a wooden spoon also, and was starting to venture into the men's belt section, but thought that might be pushing it lol.

Since T broke my other one, I thought this purchase was necessary! I'm noticing that hairbrushes with a square, paddle shape have a thudding quality to it, I guess because of the cushioned part of the bristles on the other side. The slightly smaller, but rounded hairbrush might be more stingy.

The bathbrush I bought on a whim. It's flat and heavy on the end, and circular in shape. It'll probably bruise me. Oh well.

20 Things About Me

This idea is taken from the lovely Bonnie-Jo, and motivated by my utter boredom at work:

1. I have an obsession with my hair... I crave shiny, healthy, perfect hair. I deep condition it. I put oils in it. I wash it rarely. It's very vain and high-maintenance, but I can't stop, especially since it's damaged right now. It makes me sick!
2. From elementary school until college, I have aspired to be the following things: professional ice-skater, writer, lawyer, model, actress, psychologist, nurse, porn star, criminal profiler, social worker, legal assistant, and housewife.
3. My favorite TV shows, not including childhood ones: "Weeds," "Dexter," "Law & Order: SVU," "Criminal Minds," "NCIS," and "Community."
4. That being said, I get extremely obsessed with characters and story lines in TV shows so I don't really like starting new series because that means I will invest way too much time in learning and obsessing over these new people.
5. My favorite fruits are apples, Fuji and Red Delicious, and peaches. I don't like most tropical fruits (like pineapple, mango), I don't like any type of melon. Berries are okay.
6. I get hot and bothered by anything related to crime and handsome men. Things like action or heist movies drive me crazy. And if anyone is wearing a suit during all this, oh my God.
7. Sasha Grey is my ultimate muse and inspiration. I think she is a wonderful human being.
8. I cannot go a single day without coffee. It's getting pretty bad.
9. I started smoking weed at around age 21, and I wish that I had started sooner.
10. I'm a total Pisces, and an INFJ. I think.
11. I love to laugh. I find a lot of things funny. My comedy preferences are far and wide, from Steve Carrell to Dave Chappelle.
12. I have seen every episode of Jackass and Viva La Bam, and have seen all the Jackass movies. I took it personally when Ryan Dunn died.
13. The school girl fantasy is my favorite, followed by the escort one
14. I have watched the Victoria's Secret Fashion Show on TV every year since I was 12 years old.
15. My favorite color is lavender.
16. I used to be able to rap all of "Look At Me Now" by Chris Brown, et al. It was my goal last summer to memorize it. I don't know if I still can do Busta Rhymes's part, but I can definitely do Lil Wayne and CB's. I don't know if this embarrassing or amazing.
17. Speaking of embarrassing, embarrassing celebrity crush: Rob Kardashian. Actually, I'm not ashamed.
18. I think Goyte sounds exactly like like Sting, but I like Sting better.
19. Sting can come spank me anytime
20. And speaking of Sting, I've watched, "Lock, Stock, and Two Smoking Barrels" probably 100 times.

Vanilla, Wolverine, Freebies

I hung out with my close, very vanilla friend last night. We talked about a variety of things, but inevitably, the conversation drifted towards sex. She is fiending to get laid, fiending hard. This lead to discussions about psychology, pornography, fantasies...

I asked her what would be her perfect husband, perfect boyfriend. She talks her away around it a lot, but basically she wants someone to fix her, to rescue her. Someone stable, intelligent, and gentle. And equal. A sweet guy. A nerd. Her childhood stories are horrifying. Her mother was (and still is) an extremely manipulative, emotionally, mentally, and physically abusive bitch... there are no words to describe the type of abuse and torment she has given to her children. So my friend has some of the symptoms of someone who has been through that, but also, not really. And I guessed a long time ago that she had been molested as a child; I was right. But she's as vanilla as vanilla can be. One time, a random hook-up tried to spank her with a belt, and she said it was painful, unpleasant, and humiliating. She prefers missionary position. She doesn't masturbate because she can't get off on fantasy or imagination. A physical person must be there to turn her on.

I can say I haven't been through a third of what she has been through... and yet my kink level is through the roof. How does that work? I have always considered myself pretty well-versed in psychology. I know people react differently to the same circumstances. So it is not to say that my friend is totally stable. She is very fucked up and emotionally troubled in many other ways. But sexually, she is "normal."

She asked me what my perfect husband would be.
I said someone who is aggressive, but nice. She doesn't understand about spanking, not in the least, so I couldn't really explain what I meant by that.

"Yeah, I get what you're saying," she said. "You want a manly man. Someone who isn't all cuddly and romantic all the time."
Yes, it's something like that. You could put it that way.

Did I mention I'm also a huge nerd? I told her Hugh Jackman is perfect, especially Hugh Jackman as Wolverine. But without the actual claws and stuff.

"Yeah, but isn't he a little scary?" she asked me.

Um, yeah, isn't that great?

"What's with you and all your scary manly men, Wolverine and Christian Bale, especially." (Christian Bale is also pretty high up there in my "Freebie List.")

"I think they're hot."

"I think you just want to get your ass beat."

Lol. I know she meant it in a domestic violence kind of way, but that's not what my mind was thinking.

Job IRL

Non-spanking related post:
True story: I fucking hate my job.

It literally makes my skin crawl. There is a bell on the door that goes: ding-dong-ding-dong-ding-dong-ding-dong.... every. Fucking. Time. That bell is entirely too long. Are we fucking deaf? We don't need a song to let us know that some idiot has to go for a cigarette break for the 4th time in one meeting.

The paralegal. She has a short fucking temper, she sighs constantly, she gets pissed off easily. She tries to teach me things and gets mad when I don't get it the first time, then assures me to come ask her anything if I don't understand. Yeah, I'm sure I will go to you for questions when you sigh and roll your eyes like that.

This isn't what I want. I took this job because I thought it would be better than nothing. Seriously, that is the only reason. And it was a bad one. It would have been better for me to take this time to wallow and sleep at home than to be here every morning, wanting to kill myself because I hate being here.

And it's a terrible situation. They only have one other paralegal besides myself. She has worked here for years and knows everything, and since I've only been working for a month, she basically has to handle all the cases herself, while teaching me at the same time. There is no secretary. No one else. That means the lawyers are all relying on her, and expecting me to catch up very quickly to take on the caseload. That isn't fair for her or for me. And it's a huge risk to take, especially since it's possible that I could drop out. Which I want to do. So now I feel immense guilt for it, for wanting to leave.

I think when things like this happen... things get stressful, out of control, and messy, that's when my fantasies turn more violent. Never against other people. But for myself.

I don't know how to get out of this. Being spanked is one thing, but it's not going to fix my real-world problems.

Intensity

"Maybe you get turned on by anger. By fear."

I was talking this guy... a random, faceless, intelligent man, B, who also happens to be a Dom in his bedroom romps. I had written to him about how I will always want what I can never have, and he told me, in S&M, D/s, and DD relationships, many things are possible, as long as you find the right person. 

"But I want someone to be violent with me, really take their temper out on me. Spank me. Slap me even. Grab me and really, truly make me regret."

"Why is that so far-fetched?"

"Because sex is not a part of this. I am not turned on by this. I don't want someone to rough house with me and then force me to suck his cock because that's hot for both of us. That's not what I want."

"There can be someone like that for you. It's harder to find, and you must be very careful about that sort of play, but he's out there."

"But it can't be like play. He cannot, under any circumstances, weaken because I cry or beg him to stop. He can't end the spanking with a hug. He can't ask me if I'm okay. He can't be a nice guy."

"That's possible. As long as you have a safeword, you can--"

"No, I don't want a safeword. I want it to be as nonconsensual as consensual can possibly be."

By the end of the conversation, it boiled down to: 1. You are not crazy, 2. This must be regulated very carefully.

He thinks I'm interesting. But still no answers.

I've never considered myself a pain freak, like many submissive girls do. I don't get tattoos and get high off the exhilaration of that sort of pain. I'm not into the hardcore bondage and slavery and domination aspect of S&M. 

We get into highly provocative conversations about philosophy and psychology, and much of it revolves around me.

"I'm sorry I'm so damn self-absorbed. I'm sorry I'm so difficult."

"You have to stop apologizing about everything. I don't think you're self-absorbed or difficult. Why do you think so?"

"I don't like to impose myself on others. I want to please them. I don't like when people are mad or annoyed with me."

"But in your fantasies, a lot of this harsh spanking stuff is motivated by anger... their anger placed upon you. No sex involved."

"Yes, it is. I don't like when people are mad at me because there is nothing I know how to do to remedy that situation. I'll just shut down, freeze up. Disassociate. But if they can take it out on me somehow, FORCE me to be repentant, then it's okay. Physical violence is confrontational, it's direct, usually instant, and painful. I'd rather have that."

"So maybe you are turned on by that thrill. Maybe not sexually. But you are turned on by anger. And your own fear."

Jackpot.

But that just proves how selfish I am. B says that he could possibly and hypothetically partake in this if one or both of his conditions were met: a) that we use a safeword and discuss it afterward, or b) we engage in something sexual so that he knew I was deriving some pleasure from it. I said no to both. 

"I wouldn't feel comfortable hurting another person like that if we couldn't break out of character at the end... I can be pretty sadistic, but not if I can't tell it's consensual and pleasurable, at least somewhat, for both of us."

"I wouldn't want you to break out of character."

"We wouldn't have to cuddle or anything like that, I would just need to know that you are okay."

"No."

It has to be with someone I trust and maybe even love... but he would have to be harsh and violent and cold. But not leave me either. 

Maybe someday when I am more open to sex, I can try a D/s or DD relationship... but I just can't right now. And that is frustrating as hell. 

Bear with me

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But this isn't for real

So he cracked the side of my wooden hairbrush (which he said he knew would happen)... my ass is completely bruised. Swollen, I guess you can say. I can't really sit down. That's the point. I know.

T is a nice guy. Besides being a good spanker, I can also imagine being friends with him normal, vanilla situations as well. I like that he is not going to hit on me, not going to make any moves on me... I like that he has a sense of humor.

The spanking was also good. I mean, for a first spanking ever, I think that's about as good as it's going to get. Not too brutal, but definitely not soft.

But now it's the day after, and I'm wondering... is this really what I want?

I don't have any qualms about the fact that I met him from online. That was a really good thing, actually, since we were able to treat each other like friends first, not like a discipline service. (Which happens more often than not, I'm noticing.)

But I don't really feel punished. It wasn't supposed to be a punishment, anyway, but in my mind, a spanking is a punishment. I want to feel this stinging, swollen ass of mine and think to myself, "Ouch, well, I deserved that. That's what I get." But I don't really think that at all.

Maybe because the reasons he spanked me weren't really legitimate reasons to me? I get that he wants me to say yes, sir and things like that, and I should be doing what he tells me to do. But I don't feel a horrible sense of regret for not saying yes, sir, or even for telling him to "move your fucking leg!" somewhere in the middle of that spanking. I don't feel like I've learned a lesson about something important.

We were joking with each other during all the breaks we took. T was very good in that way, trying to make me relax and feel more comfortable with him... but that makes it less serious.

This is real life. No one is going to say to you, "Hey, you need to watch your mouth or I swear I'll put you over my knee," and then actually do it. The spanking itself will always be (or should always be) consensual on some level. But I have a desire for it to be non-consensual, totally serious, totally harsh, and make me totally remorseful. Maybe I have to turn to the discipline service type people for that.

I want him to have a legitimate reason to be spanking me, and then spank me hard, make me really cry, and then say, "okay, get up. I hope you've learned your lesson, and every time you sit down, I hope you remember it," and then be gone. No jokes, no laughing, no "are you okay?"

It will never be really REAL for me, I feel like, because spanking is something I enjoy. I mean, not in the moment, but it's not something I fear completely, like a non-spanko would. That annoys the hell out of me.

The First Spanking

So yesterday was the big day. And it was pretty good. This is what my ass looks like, approximately:

Recap of the spanking:

I'm sitting next to him and he knows I have a problem saying "sir."

"Are you ready for this now?"
"Yeah," I say.
"What did you say?"
"I said, I'm ready."
"I told you how you are to respond to me, didn't I?"
"Yeah."

And then somehow I'm over his legs. And I'm nervous. I try to control his every move.
"Wait."
"Remember this is my first spanking ever."
"Slow down!"
"Don't do that!"
"That hurts!"
"Take a break!"
"Is that your hand or the hairbrush??"
"Take a FUCKING BREAK!"

He starts off slow, but with firm swats over think yoga pants. He makes me say, "yes, sir," but I'm still not comfortable about it. It's only been a few minutes and I'm already kicking and squirming.
Eventually he does take a break and lets me up.

"How was that? Was that too hard?" he asks me.
We have been laughing and joking since the moment we first met, and I say, "That's what she said."

Again, we play the game of his "Respond to me appropriately" and my "Fine." He takes me over his lap again and swings the hairbrush.
"THAT is the hairbrush."
It stings so much more than his hand... his hand has a sort of sting plus a dull thud. The hairbrush is pure sting. And he keeps swinging and swatting my ass. He likes to concentrate most of his energy right at the center of my sit spot, and by the middle of it, I am really  kicking and making noises I have never made in my life.

After about what seemed about 10 minutes of that, he lets me up again and I sit next to him. Except I can't really sit so I put my legs up, my ass off the chair, arms under my knees.
"You doing okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. It just hurts to sit."
"Then I'm doing something right."

I'm hurting, but it's that bruising hurt that I don't particularly like... I tell him that I think I can handle pants down, but he better keep my panties up.
"You are such a spanko," he says, and forces me over his lap again.
"Wait-- already??"

I don't remember what happened then... what exactly I said or did to make him want to go as hard as he did, but I said or did something pretty bad. He starts spanking with the hairbrush over my pants and then suddenly, without warning, they're down and I feel bared. Even though my panties are still on, they are the type that only cover half the ass anyway.

T starts raining swats on my sit spot too quickly for me to count. I am kicking too much and he pins me under his thigh. I am begging him to slow down, please, please slow down. But he won't. He keeps swinging a huge amount of force into each stroke of the hairbrush, right at the same places. My damn sit spot.
I told him I wouldn't cry, and it's true that I didn't outright cry and bawl and breakdown, but tears had formed in the corner of my eyes from the pain of that particular spanking. I wanted him to stop so badly but he wouldn't... I keep saying, "stop, please stop, I don't think I can... this is too much... please slow down...stop!"

"You are such a control freak," he says to me. "Don't try to tell me what to do, because it's only going to make it worse. Do you understand me?"
I hate when he asks that and I mumble something.
He spanks me again, way too hard, and this time I scream, "YES SIR!"

We take another quick break.
"Do you know how many that was?"
"No, how many?"
"That was 100 strokes!"
"No fucking way..."
"You're doing very well. You're taking it a lot better than you said you thought you would."
"Well... I guess so."
"And saying sir isn't so bad now, is it?"
"I don't like saying it."
"I know that. That's why I'm going to make you say it. Do you understand?"
Ughhhhhh. I make a face.
T grabs me hard and says, "Look at me right in the face and say it."
"I don't want to. Please don't make me!"
But of course he does.

And one last time, I'm over his knee... and I'm pretty scared now. The sting level is high, and I'm not sure if I can take it. I am flipped over his lap and I keep my hand over my ass.
"Hold on. Give me a second, okay?"
"No," T says. "For these last 10, you're going to count them, okay? And say 'thank you, sir' after each one. Do you understand?"
"Fine," I say, and he lands a huge one right in the center of my ass.
"Yes, sir," I acquiesce.

We probably end up doing 20 or 25 instead of 10 because I don't say "thank you, sir" loudly or clearly enough for him to hear. I am completely exhausted and squirming at this point, completely sorry. It just hurts so much and I want it to end. The stinging penetrates me through the skin, and my ass feels totally blistered, as they say. He rubs me a little bit.

"I know you said rubbing seems sexual, but I really think you need it right now," he says.
"I agree. Thank you."

Finally, he lets me up and we talk for a little bit. He compliments me on my ass, makes me laugh, and tells me I'm doing very well.
It's turning dark outside and suddenly I feel really sleepy, like I could just fall right asleep, right there. He says that's normal, and I'll sleep like a baby tonight.

We hug and part ways.

Good Girl, Bad Girl

He says he's 6'2" which is much larger than my 5'6." I told him I needed him to be firm with me. Don't let me fuck around with you because I will do it because I can and always have. I know it's my first time... but I'm a bad girl at heart. It's always good-girl-bad-girl.

Anyone from the outside would see that I'm one of the "good" ones. Never got into trouble at school. Went to a good college. Got good grades. The worst thing I've done is steal (high school), smoke some weed (occasionally, but now I can't do it), and drink underage (college.) But that's not really anything. I am polite, to a fault. I don't have grotesque piercings or tattoos. I don't wear obscene clothing. I'm not promiscuous.
I am wide-eyed. I smirk. I stay quiet. I don't do bad things.

But maybe that's all suppression of the badness inside. I don't mean bad like, "I'm a terrible person, I am worthless." I mean bad like... naughty. Spoiled. Stuck-up.

I want to push someone and push them hard. Push all their damn buttons and piss them off. But I am terrified of that anger. I hate making people mad... when I see a flicker of annoyance in anyone's face, I back the fuck off. I don't push. But I want to. I want to push them, act bratty, talk back, give the middle finger, say "fuck you." And I want them not to get angry or angry at me, but grab me by my arm and say, "I don't know where you've learned to act that way, but you're not getting away with that with me," and give me hard lesson on the seat of pants. True anger? I can't deal with that. Anger and then a spanking to teach me repentance? Yes, that's what I want.

Maybe it's almost abusive.
If I wasn't a spanko, I would be pushing all my boyfriends this way. I would push them until they hit me, and then maybe I would feel satisfaction in some way.
But because I'm a spanko, it's safer. But still not perfect.
I want to piss someone off so badly that they take all their anger out on my ass. I want to whine and sass and swear. I WANT HIM TO BE MAD.

But after he spanks me, after he has made sure that I won't do it again and that I regret doing it the first time, I want him to be satisfied. I want to say sorry, and I want him to feel sorry that he hurt me.

It's so much to ask for.

I've had these desires ever since I could remember.
When I first started watching "Law & Order: SVU" (maybe age 11 or so?) I'm pretty sure Detective Stabler was one of my first non-sexual spanking fantasies. He was aggressive and passionate and dominant and unafraid to be forceful, but also so caring and protective of his friends and family. I wanted someone like that in my life... still do. Someone I could run to when I made mistakes and be told that he was there for me, unconditionally. Someone I needed to hide my bad behavior from, and if caught, face the consequences, which was undoubtedly a spanking. And even if it wasn't an actual spanking, I wanted someone like him to grab me hard when I talked back to him and threaten to spank me. It was never sexual. It wasn't about wanting to seduce him with the prettiness of a reddened bottom... it was just about being spanked and forgiven and cared about.

But that's not a real person, at least no one that I've ever met. It's just not realistic. Maybe a boyfriend... but that's still not the same as a father figure.

First time

I'm going to be spanked soon. Yay!
Anyone who isn't a spanko will probably never understand the joy in that sentence lol.
I'm going to meet T next Monday, and he'll give me a preview of what to expect sometime in the future.
I've never experienced it before... I've never been spanked. I'm such a virgin. I know it will be painful, but I'm so excited for that pain that I question my sanity sometimes lol.

Control

Don't think that I can ever get over the control aspect of a spanking... the fact that I am physically weaker than the person who is causing me pain, and I can't do anything about it. It's a maddening concept, one that scares and excites me...

Freak

I feel like I will never find the man of my dreams.

Besides being kind and respectful and all that, he must also have spanko tendencies, a dirty side, a dirty mouth, a firm hand, control without being abusive... all of these extremely picky things regarding bedroom romping, and who can be this perfect person?

Ideally, I don't want him to be so dominant and serious and dark during the day time. I want someone I can play with and laugh with and be silly with. But if he can't turn around and be in control during a spanking, can't discipline me, can't be "abusive" in bed, I can't be attracted. Not all the way.

And I'm such a bitch because I don't ever want my boyfriend to ask me, "Are you okay? Is doing this okay?" but at the same time, if he doesn't ask and he does something I don't like, then I'll feel disrespected.

I know that I've grown up being treated like a princess. I am sensitive and temperamental and I've got my head up in the clouds and I'm girlish and immature and finicky and if I can't get it my way, I sulk and panic and lock myself away in the tower that is my perfectly furnished bedroom. I'm so undateable.
But I'm also extremely loyal and compassionate and playful. Won't that be enough? It's been 22 years of this and if it hasn't changed now, it won't be changing anytime soon.

A friend once told me that I reminded her of Katherine Heigl. I can see it. Sometimes I'm uptight like her character in "Knocked Up." I like to think I have a much better sense of humor than she does, but regardless... I'm much more of freak inside my own mind than I am, AT ALL, on the outside.

Sometimes, I wish I was as openly "freaky" as Sasha Grey is, and be confident that sexuality is beautiful in all its forms. This is what I believe. But that's not what I portray to others, and it's sad how limiting that is.