Moments of weakness

I require a lot of time for mental and emotional recuperation. I'm the type of person that if I have to hang out with a large crowd or multiple people, it's great, yes, but afterwards, I need beaucoup amounts of time alone to normalize my brain again. And if I get pissed off or angry, I need even more time to myself.

This is one of the reasons that I question whether or not I can actually handle a DD relationship. I handle stress and anger very badly... I know this. I honestly don't know what "healthy" anger is. In stressful, trying times, or in moments of true rage or anger, I shut down completely, become glassy eyed, detached, and numb. Or, in spirit of my teenage habits, I will cuss a person out, throw and break things, and talk shit until I tire myself out. This happens rarely because I rarely have the time/space to do it. More often, I will contain it all until I can't handle it, and I will do something destructive against myself.

Anger, frustration, annoyance was never allowed in my household, at least not from me. If I ever got into an argument with my mom, it was never allowed to be an argument because anything I said would be considered "talking back" or being disrespectful. If I deigned to actually talk back, she would hit me. If I went to my room to throw something or scream into a pillow, she would come up the stairs and hit me again. As a preteen, I learned early on that it was better for me to keep my mouth shut and swallow my anger, rage, frustration whole and completely. Many times, starving myself, cutting, bruising, throwing up were ways to punish my mother without actually saying anything to her. I would think to myself, "you made me do this, this is your fault, you make me hurt myself, you're the one who did this."

I handle these negative emotions a lot better now obviously, but I still keep things bottled up. I never learned how to be angry in healthy ways. I get annoyed and hurt easily, and don't know how to express my feelings.

And now, as an adult living back at home, I not only feel suffocated by my family, but also immense resentment and guilt. I know I don't have a miserable life. I'm not abused. But I just can't breathe. I can tell they are getting tired of me, and I'm getting tired of them, and I don't want to be destructive towards myself again because of all this pent up anger. I need to go somewhere.

I can't be in a DD relationship because if my boyfriend or husband were to cut me off in a fight and tell me to bend over his lap, I wouldn't do it. It would absolutely enrage me. I would not do it. I know myself too well in the context of anger, and although I wish I wasn't the way I am, I can't unlearn this. I don't want to be controlled, I don't want to have to answer to anyone, I don't want to do anything that anyone tells me to do.

If I sound spoiled, I probably am... but I don't care right now, I don't care.

Si j'habite dans cette maison pour un plus d'ans, je mourrai. 
Je suis gâtée? Le seule remède est arrêter et quitter. 

Sociopaths, Batman, and Dexter

I saw "The Dark Knight Rises" tonight. Needless to say, I am a huge fan and I won't even say how many times I've watched "The Dark Knight" because it's one of those things that's not "impressive," it's just plain embarrassing.

I prefer "The Dark Knight" because when I see a movie trying to depict true evil, I expect to be scared, and Heath Ledger's Joker definitely gave me chills. All I could focus on in this one was Bane's Sean Connery accent and his body... which were both distracting, to say the least.

I am fascinated by the concept of sociopathy in humans. Earlier today, before going to see the movie, I read part of a book called The Psychology of Dexter about the character Dexter Morgan, and his role as an organized serial killer, highly intelligent and methodical. The first essay asks how you think you would feel if you had to masquerade as a "human," when in fact, you don't recognize any emotion as true or real. Sociopaths experience shallow emotions, such as rage or jealousy, and that's why they can get pleasure out of criminal and destructive behaviors. The short-lived highs are exhilarating, but never last enough to create happiness or love.

What does it feel like to not experience guilt? What does it feel like to be truly cold?

Most sociopaths don't end up taking the serial killer path, but they function as "normal" people in the real world. He is "a social predator who charms, manipulates and ruthlessly plows their way through life...completely lacking in feelings for others, they selfishly take what they want and do as they please, violating social norms and expectations without the slightest sense of guilt or regret (Hare, 2003)."

I know people like this, and they disgust me. They aren't "cool" or interesting in the least... they are infuriatingly depthless and remorseless. The killers and criminals are the ones that interest me, and probably most other people as well because murder is such a human act, so up-close and personal, and yet the people who do it feel nothing.

I remember watching Ledger's Joker in awe like, how can a person act this way, how can they just not care? (I know this is a fictional character, but still.) He didn't care about innocence and guilt, like Dexter did. The Joker was a harbinger of chaos. Bane was carnal and allowed everyone play, even if it just means he'll kill them eventually, but he still knew what caring felt like.

Ted Bundy once said: "Guilt? It's this mechanism we use to control people. It's an illusion. It's a kind of social control mechanism- and it's very unhealthy. It does terrible things to our bodies. And there are much better ways to control our behavior than that rather extraordinary use of guilt."

I can imagine how a person might get to thinking that way. Extraordinary circumstances. Trauma. Bad childhoods. Most people use apathy as a shield though, as a defense mechanism. (Miranda Tate in "TDKR" says to Bruce Wayne: "You have a practiced apathy, Mr. Wayne. But a man doesn't spend half his fortune on a plan to save the world and isn't so wounded when it fails.") Even myself, I know that I have trained myself to become colder and more detached for emotional situations and horrific incidents. It's easy to laugh in the face of terror. It's easy to dismiss feelings and emotions. I do it all the time. But it's practiced, and definitely not how I really feel.

I remember reading an article about how people who act this way, the way that I do, are making the world worse, making society more hardened and aggressive, because they can never admit their true feelings, out of fear that they will succumb to them. And as a result, everyone else becomes wary of natural reactions, such as crying or feeling fear, disgust, or pain, because people (like us, like me) make a false mockery of it.

But too many bad things happen every day, all the time. If I invested my emotions in all of these murders, kidnappings, affairs, divorces, wars, plagues, suicides, everything, I'd have maybe 3 minutes out of a day to feel any happiness. I've always been a black-and-white person, all or nothing. I'd rather pretend to be a cold-hearted bitch than to be vulnerable to attack, ridicule, or pity.

Which is why it took so long for me to allow myself to cry. Because it's such a powerful gesture of weakness, of pain and sorrow, and vulnerability. I'm attracted to sociopathic people because they are what I wish I could be sometimes. If only I didn't feel guilt or empathy, I could do so many things, and I could be fearless.

Sasha Grey part deux: Koreans, filth, and restraint(s)

The difference between myself and people like Sasha Grey is that I am not a go-getter, and I choose to believe that a quiet life is what is right for me. Blame it on the anxiety, on the upbringing, the cultural expectations, whatever. 


The reason you don't see real Korean people in mainstream American porn is not because they aren't just as fucked as the rest of the world, but because Koreans have a deeply rooted sense of fear and a massive inferiority complex, regardless of whether they were born in the US or not. Any porn sites that advertise "Korean" girls are more than likely to have just picked up a random Asian country and labeled the girl with slanted eyes as being such, just because it sounds exotic.

This is not to say that Chinese or Japanese people don't have the similar Confucian beliefs and cultural hang-ups as the Koreans do... but it's just different.

I don't want to be a porno girl. I used to, because I thought that I could handle it, but I know that's wholly untrue. I simply don't have the personality for it. Sasha Grey might have been slightly introverted as a kid, but she has an inner drive and fearlessness that I don't.

In my wildest fantasies, though, I can be like her. If I had that go-getter mentality, I would break into the porn industry and make a huge name for myself. And honestly, being Korean would be a major push for me. It would be the most shameful thing... this college-educated, middle-class, pale-skinned, young Korean girl getting smashed and violated like a stankass ho. That actually turns me on. The fact that Koreans would be so shocked and disgusted by it, but at the same time, be my biggest audience. Those filthy sons of bitches.

Who wouldn't want to see this tapped to bits? I would.

But I can't. Because I'm not tough enough. And also, my parents would just die. Korean girls have an undercurrent of fear and shame running through them.That's why the "worst" they can do is date a black guy... but that's not really just a Korean thing, I guess.

This wasn't all about me spewing vitriol about the Korean plight. There was a point here.

Even taking that mentality out of porn and into the "real" world, why can't I be just as ambitious and strong-willed in another field? I might not be fearless, but I certainly have a lot of pent up energy. Or at least, I used to. I should be able to channel that elsewhere... but I'm stuck.

I think that a quiet life is the way I'm supposed to go, but I'm not a quiet person, not on the inside. Words to describe who I am really? Restrained. Coiled. Stifled. By my own self, not by culture, or parents, or other forces.

And why? I really don't know. I don't know how to plunge. I don't know how to prove people wrong, when I've been acting "right" the whole time.

Daddy issues

Even if I live the rest of my life alone and single, I'd rather do that than ever have a marriage like that of my parents.

I know my story is nothing special. It's not horrific or disgusting or even close to a "bad childhood." It's not. It's not bad at all. But today, I just could not stand my life, and my family, and what it's become.

We are sitting at the restaurant, and my mom, who has recently started getting hot flashes says that it's really hot in here. My dad gives her the dirtiest look, as if she said something foul, and spits out, "What the hell is wrong with you? It's not hot."

My dad treats my mother like a slave, a maid, a dog. He has never hit her... and that is always the excuse that I have used for my family. "Hey, well at least no one was physically abusive." But that doesn't mean that all is well. 

I don't know or understand why my parents are married. I have never known if they loved each other. I figure they must have at some point, since they had me and my brother. But they don't love each other now. They don't divorce because it's just much more convenient to stay married. They don't hate each other, they don't love each other. It's just a partnership, a loyalty. They support each other when bad shit happens. But it's not love. 

I have long believed that once you become an adult, it is pathetic to blame your parents for anything. Because they shouldn't have that much impact in your life as an adult, and if they do, you should do something about it. But I can't deny that they still affect me, especially my dad.

The last time they had a fight was a month ago. We were watching TV, some drama showing some perfect little family, and my mom was just being playful, saying things like, you should never marry someone like your dad! You should marry someone fun and handsome, like that guy! And my dad completely exploded at her. I can't recall what he said, but he was pissed off that she was saying those things. I hid in the bathroom. My mom was saying how embarrassed she was, how she was only joking, and how could he talk to her like that in front of me? In my mind, I was thinking, please shut up, please shut your mouth, stop provoking him more, please shut the fuck up before he gets even worse, please shut the fuck up. 

That has been my whole approach to anger and men. Don't say anything. Do not provoke them. Keep your mouth fucking shut. Don't joke with them. Don't flirt with them. Don't annoy them. 

How wrong are those thoughts? Those immediate, those automatic thoughts that say, "Mom, please shut up before Dad does something worse." That's how it has always been.

When I was a young child, I remember saying, "Since you know how Dad is, you should just stop when he starts getting mad. Just stay quiet." And she said, "Why does it always have to be me? Why should I always have to swallow everything?" And I didn't understand her. I remember thinking, it's better to swallow it than to make him more mad. 

But now that I am older, my whole throat closes up in frustration and rage... my mother has had to deal with this for 20-plus years. Never allowed to express how she really feels, for fear he might just kill us all. 

And to my dad? I'm thinking, are you fucking serious? You treat my mother like this, and then get angry about her saying I should marry someone nice? Are you fucking blind?

Yes, my dad works hard. He does not cheat on my mom. He has always supported me and my brother. 

But he comes home and he does not lift a finger to do a single thing. My mom cooks dinner and serves him right at his feet. Makes coffee and serves him. Does the dishes. Cleans. Takes out the trash. Laundry. 

The worst fights have been about how he doesn't understand why the house isn't clean when she doesn't do anything else in her life. How he's sick of living in this dirty house. 

Actually, I can't even remember what exactly the fights are about. They begin with something completely insignificant. She says the "wrong" thing. She gives him the wrong look. Complains about something. Tries to joke with him. Something insignificant. And then he'll lose his shit and trash the whole house. 

In my wildest dreams, I stand up to him. But in reality, I do nothing. My whole body freezes. I hide in the bathroom or my bedroom, curl up, and disassociate. I'm in my mind and there is nothing else. I close my eyes and I am gone. If someone were to talk to me right at that moment, my eyes would contain nothing. I'd be a ghost.

I don't hate my dad. I hate how he treats my mother. I harbor a lot of resentment towards him.

I see a lot of his characteristics in myself. I am also an introverted person, and I lose my temper a lot at stupid things because I tend to bottle things up. But I would never treat my husband or anyone else like that. 

I would rather live alone than to marry someone like my dad. 

Unwanted Spanking

I've agreed to meet T tonight again for a punishment spanking. I did not want to. Not because I don't like or trust him, but just because I don't feel that sort of connection to him... especially after I've been talking to these other boys.

But I kind of like the fact that I'm not excited. Because there's a different sense of dread there... it's not like a "Oh my God, I'm going to be spanked! I'm so excited!" feeling. It's more like, "I really don't want to be punished tonight." Which seems more "real," especially since there is absolutely no sexual aspect to this dread at all.

I imagine it sort of like those spanking videos where the girls get spanked instead of going to jail. I'm getting this spanking whether I truly "want" it or not... and in this case, I really don't. But I'm going to get it because I agreed to meet him.

Maybe this time, I'll feel more repentant.

(But my God, I'm really scared of that bath brush, I really am.)

Relax

I'm so fucking restless. I have trouble eating because.... butterflies? Nerves? I don't know.

I love talking to J, and all I want to do is get a rise out of him, play with him, flirt with him, make him mad, make him laugh, make him get serious and toppy... I want to play hard to get, but I can't. Last night, I made a mistake. He was out with his friends and told me a drunk girl was trying to hit on him.
"Why don't you take her home," I said, jokingly. "Do you want to spank her?"
"Do you want me to? Is that what you want?"
"No, it's not. But I'm not going to be a cockblock."
"Fair enough."
And later in the night, I ask him if she's still around.
"Yeah."
"Go tap that ass," I say.
"Again, why are you telling me these things, if that's not what you want? It gives me the wrong signals."
"What signals," I ask.
"That you aren't interested."
Immediately, I feel sorry and anxious.
"I am, J. I really am, but I don't have control over what you do. And I don't have the right to say, don't talk to her, don't touch her."
"That's true, but if that's not what you really want, I don't want you to say it."
I apologize and for the rest of the night, I am anxious with him.
Even later in the night, I call him an asshole for something he says, as a joke, and he tells me to take it back. I refuse. He threatens me with various things, but I flat-out refuse to say sorry.
"Okay, well I'm done threatening you."
And that's it.
I freak out, I ask him if he's mad, are you sure, are you really mad at me, are you sure, I'm sorry, I really am.
And he's not even mad at me. It's just me, with all my anxiety and craziness...
"I thought you wanted to make me mad?" he asks.
And that's true... I've told him this before, that I want to make him actually angry. He's too easy-going, and I will break him of that.
"Yes, I do, but I don't know. Not like this."
He assures me he is fine.
We talk online and I try to be normal, but I'm actually about to cry because I feel like I'm too crazy for him, like I don't deserve to be talking to him.
I keep apologizing and tell him I want to be more submissive, I want to be good, but I'm sorry, I'm so anxious, and I don't know what to do, and I'm so sorry for being so bad tonight.
"Alright, listen to me," he says.
"Okay."
"I am going to tell you to do something, and you are going to do what I say."
"Okay."
I am almost in tears because I am expecting him to make me spank myself or do a version of cornertime that involves kneeling on the bed, that drives me absolutely crazy.
"What is it?" I ask.
"Don't ask. Just trust me. Are you going to listen to me?"
"Yes."
"You are going to relax," he says. And I take a deep breath.
"Why are you so nice?" I ask him.
"You weren't bad tonight, and I'm not mad at you. And this is okay, also. You being anxious tonight is okay."
He's read my mind. I was in the middle of typing that I was sorry about that.

I try not to expect too much from him... after all, you know never know what will happen. But I like him so much, and he knows the exact right thing to say, even better than I know myself. I chide him for being too nice of a top, but in times like these, I am so thankful that he is a genuinely nice person. I don't know what to do with myself, I'm just not used to that.

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.

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.

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. 

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.

Revelations while I was high last night

I smoked some pot last night with a friend and all was going well until I was left alone for a while.
I kept thinking about spanking (of course) and then I started dreaming or tripping about how I was spanked when I was a young girl.

My mom would grab my hands, make me kneel, and while holding my hands above my head, she would slap the tops of my thighs, either with her hand or some kind of flat object, and if I tried to block her or rubbed my thighs, she would slap harder and more. God... I actually cried in that haze of half drunken, half high out of my mind state because those memories were so painful. I mean... it's so strange. I remember those experiences being so incredibly physically painful, and yet I'm so sexually aroused by spanking now, as an adult. On one hand, I feel a little ashamed about it, and but on the other, I have had this "fetish" since I was a little girl, and I  know I can't do anything about it. And since I know it's not all that unusual, I have come to terms with it.

I'm sure it all comes together. I remember masturbating since I was at least 5 years old, and being caught multiple times and spanked for it. But maybe I started masturbating because I was so scared of being spanked. I've heard that young kids start doing that early when they have a lot of stress or fear at home. The household wasn't quiet when I was very young... I mean it all makes sense.

But maybe that's also why I'm so scared of relationships and sex... being beaten for masturbating and being asked, "Why are you doing such a dirty thing?" over and over... having no words to answer... I was only 5 or 6 years old, I didn't even know what I was doing. It makes my heart hurt even now to think of it. I'm sure my mom was scared too, like why is this little girl doing such a sexual thing? And that's why she had no choice but punish me for it.

I don't blame her... in my high, I remembered that it wasn't abusive. She hit me hard, but after it was over, she always hugged me.

It just bothers me... how those exact things turn me on now, as a 21 year old woman. My dad never hit me, ever, but he terrified me by being verbally abusive to my mom.

How does that physical pain get translated and looped and rewired into sexual pleasure? I know that's what happened, and I know the psychological and physiological explanations for it... but it doesn't make it easier to accept. I don't have the desire to be slapped on my thighs like I was when I was a girl, but I always have the punishment spanking fantasy... which is basically the same exact scenario, except with a man and on my ass. Guess it makes sense... Erogenous zone and male figure.

I think I am still pretty baked from last night, but if I don't write this all down now, I won't want to later, and it'll all go back into the vault that is my mind. I need to let this all out.