Monday, September 10, 2012


Putting an indefinite hiatus on blogging because I have very little free time to think for myself, let alone write... between working 12-14 hour shifts every day, trying to please a hardass boss, making new friends, trying my darndest not to flirt with coworkers, and drinking on weekends... my whole life is consumed by work, work, work (and alcohol.) Meanwhile, I am trying to stay positive and safe. Wish m luck, guys... I'm kind of stuck like this for another year!

And for the record, I do live in a town that looks just like the one in "The Walking Dead." No zombies though... not yet anyway.


Tuesday, August 28, 2012

Dangerous games

I'll be moving deeper south in a few days for a new job. I am not thrilled about it, but my best friend says it'll be cool, "like in 'True Blood.'" I've never seen that show but I have seen "The Walking Dead," and maybe I'll meet a Norman Reedus look-alike!

I'd like to attribute my lack of enthusiasm for spanking on stress but I think another big component is that I'm interested in a wider range of things right now. It's not that spanking is a simplistic act... it's just as complicated and psychological as other forms of S&M, but at the moment, it feels very mild. I thought that the cure for that was being hurt more, with more force, more pain, more everything. But that's not it either.

So I've been trying to imagine what a perfect scenario would be, what exactly it is that I want. Obviously, tastes will evolve, preferences will change... I know that physical pain and some element of fear and danger are the two things that turn me on. I don't like this localized sense of pain that spanking involves, the necessity of compliance. Yes, you can kick and struggle but ultimately, being spanked is a submissive act and it's wholly consensual.

It's not that I'm looking to do anything non-consensual, though. I don't know what I want. I don't like the set-up of scenarios in general... how it's "real" but also a game. It's supposed to be serious but it's also a form of play. How safewords and caution are always involved. But I know this is all illogical thinking also. If there weren't constraints and rules and consent, then all of this would be actual torture. But still... I can't help but want something more.

In other news, I've been planning the interior design for my new apartment these past couple of days and it is lots of (fun) work. I wish I owned more furniture though... I am secretly trying to make my living room look like the inside of a 1920s brothel because it'll be sexy, but my mom is absolutely opposed to red or dimmed lighting because she says it looks "whore-y." I know!! That's the point!!

I don't have any fear about living alone, although I hope that I won't be bored. There isn't much to do in that tiny little town, except maybe have sex and smoke meth.

Sunday, August 19, 2012

Modern Family, violins, and Patrick Bateman

"He blew his lid... when she tried to contain him..."
-Phil talking about Claire's missing Tupperware lids

Now that I'm lacking my daily dose of "Mad Men," and I realize that I really don't like movies, I've started watching "Modern Family." It had a slightly slow start, but this is another one of those character-driven stories and I have definitely gotten to love the characters at this point (Season 2).
I LOVE Phil Dunphy... I want to marry someone like him. Even though he is such a dork. Though, it certainly doesn't hurt that he has very good hands...

I feel like I know what it is to be a teenager, and I know what I want when I am a little bit older and married. But I don't know what I want right now. So I try to watch shows or movies catered toward the 20-something crowd to see what is "normal," but I can never relate, and I always feel either extremely immature or overly cynical.

And at this point, I don't want to say that I am "over" S&M or spanking, but I am so far away from all that right now. It's not relevant in my life right now.

There's no rhyme or reason to this post.
I miss the days when I played violin and was part of an orchestra. That is probably the nerdiest slice of my past. I hated it way back when but now I miss it... but now I can't play very well. I miss obsessing over notes and watching the same Bruch video over and over. I miss the competition, the leadership, the intensity. Wow, that sounds so nerdy.

Sometimes when I'm feeling particularly stressed out or upset, I like to go online to look up murder videos. Just like what Patrick Bateman said: "What do you do?" "I'm into, well, murders an executions mostly." I like looking at pictures of accidents and murders and suicides and autopsies... well, maybe not like it so much as find them intriguing. I remember only a few years ago, back in high school, I wasn't able to stomach those types of photos. Now I watch them with a coffee in one hand and a muffin in the other.

It's like I am so far removed from the actual tragedy of it that I am almost close to laughing at them... it's so wrong and yet I can't stop. Maybe seeing these things kind of give me a sort of twisted wake-up call... like my life isn't too bad. My family hasn't been chopped up by the Mexican cartel. No one has raped me and put up the video online. I haven't been crushed between two racing cars. Life isn't as bad as that. I never watch videos like this when I'm happy and content.
I remember watching the Luka Magnotta video when it came out and feeling slightly sick about the way he handled the body, and thinking, that is the ugliest side of humanity, the darkest end of the spectrum, the most fucked up that people can become. My depression, my anxiety, my spoiled sense of being, that is nothing compared to how dark life can be. But after watching that, I didn't think to myself, I need to brush my shoulders off. I just thought about how disgusting and untrustworthy people are... so why even try?

Sometimes I am able to see the pure beauty in the world and feel hope for it... and then there is the ugliness that I've witnessed on film and photos, no back story necessary, and I want to give up entirely.

Black and white. Story of my life.

But I want to end on happy note.

Hey, Phil... I feel like I'm crazy and weird. Am I weird?
Thanks, Phil.

Tuesday, August 14, 2012


I'm not really a movie person, but after finishing all 5 seasons of Mad Men, my brain has needed a constant fix of entertainment so I've watched about a million movies to keep myself occupied. Most recently, I've seen "American History X," "10 Things I Hate About You," and "The Italian Job." It kind of bothers me that I need to immerse myself in fantasy like this, like I don't have a "real" life or something.

I've been stressed out by a couple of major things these days, but mostly I'm annoyed with myself. I wish I was more of a go-getter and I could just plunge into whatever I felt like. Worry about the consequences later. But I'm cautious to a fault, and I know someday I'm going to regret being this way.

On the other hand, I know that the moment I move out of my house, I'm going to completely let loose. Like those extremely sheltered girls who go off to an out-of-state college and black out every other night... except I don't have college as an excuse. I feel like I've stifled so many emotions these past couple months during the summer that as soon as I am truly free, I won't be able to stop myself.

I've literally been Googling things like: "am I spoiled?" "am I narcissistic?" "do I have anger problems?"

I feel like who I am right now is not who I really am. Everything annoys and frustrates me. I feel angry and short-tempered all the time. If a few years ago I was deeply depressed... it's like I have displaced all of that into rage and constant annoyance. But that still trickles down into the final emotion of guilt, which in turn, lends itself into depression and anxiety again. This is not who I am.

This is probably why I am currently so turned off by spanking and BDSM in general these days. I don't feel like submitting to anyone. If anyone wanted to dominate over me, it would take pure physical aggression, not words. Right now, I hear everything as people talking at me, scolding me, nagging me. I don't want to hear it, I really don't. All I want to do is rebel, but I don't have the energy to deal with my parents. All I want to do is do some criminal things, but I resist because someday I'll probably have to get security clearance for my job. All I want to do is get away from myself.

Sunday, August 5, 2012

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. 

Friday, August 3, 2012

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.

Monday, July 30, 2012

Mob mentality, Hwayoung, and Competition

I try not to follow Korean celebrity news because it makes me feel like a 13 year old girl, but this news about T-ara and Hwayoung is just too juicy and delicious to resist.

I have first-hand experience dealing with catty Korean females, and it almost irks me to see all the international fans rallying around this controversy because it's so convoluted and difficult to explain, especially if you don't fully understand Korean culture. Why didn't she fight back? Because you just don't. What does age have to do with it? Everything. Who cares about seniority? Everyone.

Mob mentality is addictive, and it makes you feel completely alone, even when you are surrounded.
My therapist last year told me that it's common for girls to fall into it and never escape, even into adulthood. It's alienating and cruel, and yet highly protective within the ranks. Ever since middle school, I've thought that I had rid myself of these behaviors, and yet it happened again in college.

I'm not a competitive person at all. I used to be a perfectionist, but only for myself. It was never about other people. But when I was in a clique in college, I could feel myself always guarding against others, cutting them down, and trying to be "better." My breaking point only came when I got tired of the sexual competition... because that was one aspect I couldn't be a part of.

In any case, when bullying is involved, the clique will disband. I don't know how Hwayoung lasted as long as she did if all the allegations are true... she certainly had it worse than I did.

The pressure to please, to look good, to drink, to flirt, to suck up, to be sexy but not slutty, cute but not annoying, to be smart but not arrogant, to be innocent but not inexperienced, to be pretty but not fake... I thought about going on rampages every day.

"존댓말 안 써?"
"듣기 싫으니까 입닥쳐."
"아잉~ 언니가 최고죠!"
"오빠가 흑기사 해주세요!"
"저 씨발년 뭐래?"
"언니들! 잘 주무셨죠!"
"그렇게 싫다면 네가 나가."
"싸게 굴지마."
"걸레는 걸레들 끼리..."

I hated them so much. But I didn't immediately remove myself from them because I knew I still had power inside the group. And when I did leave, it was a breath of fresh air... with a tinge of "Why couldn't I tough it out?" Why are those girls able to withstand the pressure, but I wasn't?

In sticking with the spanking theme of this blog, I'd say that each and every one of these egotistical little girls deserve to take a group caning until they break, but honestly, they'd make that a competition within themselves as well. Physical violence is becoming the norm.

As for me, I don't want to be end up being a gossiping housewife, or cutting my coworkers down just to get to the top. I don't want to be a bully or a ringleader. But I feel those impulses inside me because it's all I've known of females and female relationships. In particular, I want to get along with Korean girls better... but all of these experiences have made terrible impressions on me. Bad bruises.

Sunday, July 29, 2012

Protect me, rescue me

Season 4 of Mad Men has been so addicting, I can't help but watch 3 or 4 episodes at a time. It really is a character-driven show and I wonder why they all seem more real than the people I actually know.

My favorite episodes thus far have been "The Suitcase" and "The Beautiful Girls" because both showcase Don's fatherly side, his almost reluctant sense of authority and protection of the girls in his life.

I've posted about this before but my whole life, I feel like I've been looking for a father figure. I didn't grow up without a father, but it doesn't mean that he was ever really there for me emotionally. I've desired strict father-figures, the kind who would send you back inside to change because my skirt was too short, the kind who would threaten violence on me for talking back, for worrying him, for doing bad things, for skipping school, for neglecting my work, for breaking the rules. I've needed this person. I crave this person so badly that sometimes I don't even know if I even desire a human person, or if I want the inner core of a ghost, the essence of a caricature. It's not a sexual person, for sure. He sees me as a daughter, a small child needing protection and boundaries and rules.
Spanking falls into this fantasy, of course, but at the same time, it's something totally different.

Who, outside of family, would ever feel that fierce sense of protection towards me? Who would ever want to work that hard to protect me? Who would ever have these feelings about me without leaving me once it became too much to handle?

In many ways, I know this makes me incredibly selfish. I know it. I want all the attention, all the love and protection, completely unconditionally, and yet I don't know what I'd be able to do in return, if I'd even want to do anything in return. I've grown up with an extremely high level of attention from my mother. I didn't really realize this until recently, how self-centered I am. It's a symptom of bulimia. Anything can be romanticized if you make it.

And it never goes away. I've always desired this, always, and now as an adult, I see how it can't be like this because I will never get what I want. But still, I feel that twinge of jealousy when I see TV shows or movies that have that father-daughter theme... of women behaving badly and men who always have a nagging sense of responsibility and duty to protect.

Wednesday, July 25, 2012


For the first time in my life, I shaved completely down there. My friend recommended the Noxzema 3-pack, and they were so amazing. For most of my post-adolescent life (and even some of my adolescent life) I've been terrified of shaving down there because I just knew I would nick my clitoris somehow and just die. But finally I've done it, and it looks and feel so amazing. I don't think I'll ever go 70s anymore.

Stoya said that every woman should knows what she looks like down there and love herself for it. I feel like if I've done nothing this summer, I have definitely explored my sexuality.

My ass has taken 2 spankings, and 2 different sized butt plugs. I've touched and played with myself. I've done everything I've wanted to do except for actual sex and actual dating.

I'm not ready for the intimacy that comes with it. I'm very concerned with the idea of possession these days. I'm reading a lot about serial killers. Drinking way too much coffee. Not doing enough yoga. This has been the laziest summer of my whole life.

Wednesday, July 18, 2012

Name game

If I were a stripper, what would my name be?
Supposedly, it's pet name+street you grew up on, but I've never owned a pet before and the street I grew up on sounds like a finance company, so I guess I can't be a stripper. Oh well.

Updates about the men in my life:
T, I still chat with occasionally but I don't like the way he pressures me to get naked every time. 
C, I don't chat with anymore because we just mutually drifted apart. Most likely because he also pressured me to get naked and have sex and I said no.
J, I talk to every day. And I really like him. 

So it's really just J. I think from the beginning, I knew it would be J, but still I was hesitant.
We had a talk about trust last night, and the resounding theme of the conversation: "Put your money where your mouth is."
Do I want a top who is nice and safe and easy? Or do I want someone who will be strict and push me? Of course I want a top who will push me. But it's so hard for me to just trust him and say yes and follow him. Because honestly, what if it all just goes to shit?

I have toughened myself up a lot. If it does go to shit, I won't have a meltdown or cry or pretend to care. But that's only because I have begun to brick up a wall. It's about knee-high right now. He says that if he really didn't care, if he just wanted to see some naked girl getting spanked, he wouldn't be talking to me right now. He could just go to spankingtube. And I know that. And still... I don't want to make any of this a big deal so that one day it will all fall to pieces. Because it would just be stupid.

I wish I wasn't so scared of sex and sexuality. I read what girls like Sasha and Stoya say and I love them so much for it. For being so positive and strong and independent and beautiful. And I agree with everything they say. And yet it's so hard for me... to just let go. I don't know what I have to do to be who I want to be.

Tuesday, July 17, 2012

Punishment therapy

I don't ever want to be the type of person who uses BDSM as therapy, although I know there are inherently therapeutic aspects in this pain-for-pleasure mentality.
But sometimes I wonder what it would be like to be beaten as punishment and as therapy.
I have a lot of self-loathing and guilt issues... will they ever go away?
When I went to T to be spanked for snapping at my mom, I felt dread because I knew it would hurt a lot, and yet I resolved to endure it because I knew it was deserved. And yet in the moment, I wanted desperately for the spanking to stop, for him to slow down, ease up. I almost couldn't take it, even though I wanted to.
The issues I feel most guilty about?
Not treating my mother well. Not helping her enough. Losing my temper with her. Feeling resentment towards my father. Not appreciating everything I have. Feeling irritable with my family. 
I feel like a horrible daughter sometimes. Not just that. For everything. And I want someone to beat the shit out of me for it. 

I can't even really tell what the real underlying reason is. I don't feel worthless like I'm suicidal. I feel worthless sometimes like I need to be punished and made to repent. And knowing what I know about myself, I know that spanking is just one way to deal with those feelings.
But at the same time, I know that spankings give me pleasure, so the purpose is defeated.
Times like these, I kneel and ask myself, or ask God, or ask the universe, how can I punish myself enough to feel good enough? To feel like I can be redeemed again?

Asking for punishment is a practice in indulgence. Punishment is something I crave so that I can feel better about myself. It doesn't change my previous behaviors or actions. In fact, it really doesn't change a thing.

Another intense punishment session? One where the spanker doesn't let up, and he doesn't give in, and I am spanked so hard I pass out? Will that do it? One where I am pushed so way beyond my boundaries in terms of pain that it doesn't bring me an ounce of sexual pleasure?

I've sexualized pain too much. And I've intellectualized it.

I used to cut myself for a variety of reasons, but mostly because of these self-loathing problems. When I was younger, I did it without thinking. As I got older and understood it more, I knew I was doing it because of the release of endorphins. I knew it. I knew it and I would do it in a highly methodical and premeditated way. Because I knew what the outcome would be. So even with the cutting, it was like a pleasurable punishment... and I hate that I know that.

So sometimes I think that the true way for me to feel punished is to be beaten into submission. Not just spanked. I mean, slapped and kicked and punched and yanked and thrown around. Bruised. Scratched. But even that... even THAT exhilarates me. Jesus Christ.

Thursday, July 12, 2012

Brandon, Silas, and Don

The drive coming back from Chicago was strange. I couldn't sleep. I watched miles and miles of farmland pass by, and later, the endless blackness of the highway at night.
Family gatherings are always awkward, and this wasn't any different. For 14 hours, all I did was allow the small child in my brain scribble across the walls of my mind, jump, scream, throw tantrums, and finally, fall asleep in a heap in the corner. After she wore herself out, all I know for certain is that I don't want to end up in a marriage like my parents.
I can't even describe how I feel about my dad. He's unpredictable. My parents would argue in the car about the stupidest things, my dad getting extremely worked up over whatever they're talking about, completely berating my mother, and my mother, first trying to argue back, and then trying to get him to shut up. Either way, I wanted both of them to shut the FUCK up so we could drive in silence. We're a family but we aren't a family. I love them, but I absolutely hate them. That's "normal," I guess. Whatever it is, just shut the fuck up. I need to know myself outside the realm of this house. I need to get out.

I had "Drive" by Incubus playing on repeat on my iPod. I used to do this with songs a lot when I was younger... listen to a song during some period in my life SO damn much that I can't ever listen to them anymore without feeling a horrifyingly clear rush of emotions overwhelm me. This is the reason I can never listen to "Love Song" by 311 ever again. Same thing with "Hailie's Song" by Eminem, and "I Hate Everything About You" by Three Days Grace, the entirety of Christina Aguilera's Stripped album.... I can't list them all. There are just too many. I look it up on Google and I can't find anything like it. How I literally crawl out of my seat and almost start panicking if I hear those songs... because the emotions they arouse are too strong for me to handle. The beginning of "Drive" has that effect on me... but I really wanted to listen to it this week. I don't know why. And now I can't stop.
Side note: I've never liked Brandon Boyd because he just seemed like a pretty boy with a semi-decent voice, but while listening to "Make Yourself" album, I found myself saying things like, "He's so sensitive" and "These lyrics are so deep." LOL. My goodness. I must have been really bored. He's really not that great.

Then my friend tells me how Silas spanks someone in the new episode of "Weeds" this week. Wow. A few years ago, I remember falling in love with him, and fantasizing about him spanking me... At the core, I am a rescuer, and it made me want him even more, knowing how messed up he is.
When I fantasize like that, I'm not even sure it's really about the character... it's more about the idea of him. I wanted the idea of Silas Botwin to spank all his rage out, all that pent-up resentment for Nancy, just unleash on me. And somehow that would also give me release as well. And the spanko writers over at Showtime gave me just what I wanted.

And of course, during the drive I also continue to indulge my "Mad Men" obsession which, in combination with all the emotions involved in dealing with family, listening to Incubus, and feeling hot and bothered about Silas... I just feel a terrible sense of cynicism. About relationships. About trust and love. About intensity and expectation. I watch Don Draper act like the asshole he really is, and even though he's just a character on TV, I think to myself, begging, "Please stop cheating on her. Please make it work with Betty, please."

Now I just feel even more lost.

Saturday, June 30, 2012

Mr. and Mrs. Draper

This show enthralls me. At first, I started watching for Jon Hamm... because let's face it. He is the perfect man. But then I started feeling a strange, strange addiction to the show, to Don Draper, the character, and Betty Draper.

There is a scene where they have a fight, and Don says to her wan, defeated face: "It's like I'm living with a little girl." Why do those lines echo in my head, days after I've watched that episode? Why does it prick me, as though he was speaking to me?

I never liked January Jones. But she IS Betty Draper. I believe her. I am obviously not a married woman, not a pent up 60s housewife, but I identify with her character so strongly that it scares me. And I feel like I know Don Draper.

In Season 2, Betty chases after Don up the stairs, angry that he won't take part in disciplining the children, for throwing the toy against the wall, completely shattering it. I can't even remember what happened... and honestly, I don't want to. But she pushes him and then he pushes her back, and she stares at him, in shock, before walking away.

I wasn't expecting that scene, but in a split second I felt tears come to my eyes, felt my stomach drop.

Don Draper is a charismatic character, and he's good-looking. But I don't like him. He scares me. I hate the way he treats Betty. I hate how closed-up he is. Why is Betty so anxious? Because he's hot and cold, and there is no pattern to his madness. Her life is dry.

Maybe there are a thousand parallels to her life and my own, I don't know.
I do know why this show, these characters, make such an impression on me. Why I hate Jon Hamm's character and even January Jones's but I still can't stop watching.

Friday, June 22, 2012

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.

Sasha Grey

"The term fuck defines an abrasive way of having sex; it pulverizes the idea of making love. I don’t want to make love––I want to fuck. I fiend for intense sex that I can share with one, one hundred, one thousand, or even a million people. I hunger to explore my own sexuality, finding sicker ways to get off psychologically and physically."

"Watch a lot of porn and read a lot of interviews. Understand that it’s a business, and that if she isn’t tough and if she doesn’t have her shit together she shouldn’t even think about doing porn. It will chew you up and spit you out if you don’t know what the real deal is. Other people making money off of your pussy and asshole. Also, you’re not a rock star, so don’t think you can live like one. You’re a piece of meat. If you can handle that and want to enter in this experiment called porno, then welcome to the thunderdome."

"I’m a performance artist and an explorer, so for me there is nothing else but to be intense. Intensity is my alarm call to the nightmare and slow monotony others call 'real' life."

"It was also a way for me to encourage other people not to be ashamed of their sexuality. Growing up I was at conflict with who I was sexually. I always thought there must be something seriously fucked up with me. I would have a dream or fantasy and if I told my girlfriends about it, they would tell me 'That’s fucking weird. You’re weird.' I felt so guilty. When I finally started having sex and read more literature about human sexuality, I realized 'What were these hang-ups? Why did I have these?' For me, doing it and being outspoken about it was a way to tell people 'You don’t need to feel guilty.' I wish I had someone to tell me that when I was a teenager. We’re all different, we all have different tastes. You don’t have to fit this mold of what society teaches us we have to be."

"I wanna be a wrecker of civilization. [Laughs.] No, really I just want to work my ass off and stay humble and continue to prove people wrong."

-Sasha Grey


I need to put my life on pause for a second and take a moment to figure some shit out.

Maybe this is just first world problems. I don't know. God knows all I have now is time... Time to oversleep, eat, blog, eat again, maybe work out (probably not), watch TV, go on Tumblr, eat, think about working out, watch TV, take a nap, eat, watch TV, go on Tumblr, and then sleep. That can't be right.

I have been losing sleep at night over all this spanking business as well. What was once an awesome fantasy in my mind has become real over the past couple months, but it doesn't live up to the hype my mind created for 20-some years. I had been fantasizing in 2 minute trailer length versions of what real spankings are like. You get spanked, there is the element of submission and domination, and you feel the sting on your ass for a few days after... but then what? Is it all just an elaborate act?

My tastes have expanded... I was never interested in the DD lifestyle, but now that's my ultimate goal because it's the closest, most intimate, most beautiful thing I can think of, as far as marriage or relationships go. But what the fuck do I really know about relationships?

I really don't know anything, and it's been confirmed by all this foolishness with J and C. In the most vulgar sense, I am completely cock-hungry. To put it in a nicer way, I crave intimacy and touch. Sex and spanking is on my mind all day. But what else do I want in a relationship?

The closest thing I can even compare it to is the relationship I have with my best friend. During summers we could spend all week with each other, doing absolutely nothing. Just talking and laughing all day until our jaws literally started hurting and we had to take a break. What do we even do? We just talk shit and joke and drink coffee and even takes naps in the middle, just so we can wake up and go eat and talk some more. And then we get pissed off for one reason or another and we fight and then later, get back together because we're bored, or we get over it. Is that considered homoerotic? We change in front of each other. I've seen her naked. We sleep in the same bed during sleepovers. Or is that just normal girl friendship behavior?

I figure that's what a girlfriend/boyfriend relationship is like, except with more sex and nudity. But I don't know how to be romantic and girlfriend-y. I can be someone's bottom bitch, but I don't know how to be very loveable. To hell with "just be yourself"... there are still some unspoken rules you have to follow to keep up with a relationship.

Beyond sex and spanking, I don't know what exactly I have to offer to a boyfriend. Yes, support, loyalty, maybe even humor... and what can they give me? Never enough. Because I'm very selfish and crave an immense amount of attention. I'm beginning to realize more and more that that's how I've been raised.

Monday, June 18, 2012


My anxiety levels are through the roof these past couple of days. I don't know why. Maybe because of J. But mostly because I get this way every couple of weeks and need lots of down time... even though that just makes me more crazy.

I wish I could bend over the arm of a sofa and be caned for a very long time. And then be comforted. Fall asleep. And be better.

Sunday, June 17, 2012

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. 

Wednesday, June 13, 2012

Girls Who Should Have Done More Spanking Scenes


Stoya, you are so beautiful. I just want to touch you and then die.

Sasha Grey

That ass.

Tanner Mayes

Kind of too skinny, but she definitely has some temper issues.

Spanko Girls

Rosaleen Young
My goodness, just look at her... she is so perfect. Why did she go away?

Kailee Robinson

She's got the best pouty face... and the girl can take one heck of a spanking!

Lisa from Girls Boarding School

I don't know too much about her, but every time I see her crying in a spanking, it looks so real... 

Making Him Mad

I actually pissed J off yesterday. It was my goal all along supposedly, but after doing it, I felt terrible. And I don't ever want to do it again.

We talked it out, and there were some misunderstandings from both parties... I just never knew that I could ever make someone mad because of my flirtatiousness. I didn't even know it was possible that I could do that.

I don't know what I learned from all this besides the fact that I really want to be good, and I care about him and what he thinks of me, even though I shouldn't.

Tuesday, June 12, 2012

The Aftermath

After the spanking was over, T was nice, normal again. We listened to rap in the car for a while, and he was rubbing my back.

That was when I got a really empty lull in my brain. 

I hate when people touch me, but after this particular spanking, all I wanted to do was lay down with someone and fall asleep in their arms. That is very abnormal for me. I didn't want it to be T. I wanted it to be J. Or even C. 

Spanking is such an intense experience. But I don't feel close to T like that at all, and it was nice that he was trying to relax me, but I didn't want it to be his hands. 

When I got home, I was in such a strange state of relaxation, I could barely keep my eyes open long enough to brush my teeth.

I texted J, saying, "I want to be over your lap being spanked, and I wish you were closer." He doesn't know that I went to see T. 
"I'd like that also," he said. But it didn't feel like enough.

I felt something like sadness, or maybe it was longing. 
I still love spanking, but I can't go to T anymore. Even though the offense was real, the spanking felt meaningless. I tried to believe that the "judicial punishment" setting was a good thing. But more and more towards the end, and especially when I got home, it just reminded me that in the end, I was just going to go home and fall asleep alone, and there is no comfort or caring or playfulness or warmth after that. It isn't about sex or fooling around... it's that element of closeness that is missing. And that is a major thing.

My Poor Swollen Bottom

So last night, T and I meet up and I am so nervous, I barely know what to do with myself. It's not the same nerves as last time, when I didn't know what to expect... if he was a nice guy, a creep, an asshole. But I KNOW he's nice... the nerves came from the fact that it was supposed to be a punishment spanking.

At first, he had me sit down next to him while he talked to me. I kept playing with my hair, brushing it, stroking it, just messing with it.
"Stop playing with your hair," he said. "Put your hands on your knees."
"I'm sorry. I'm just really nervous."
"I know you are. And you should be."
But my hands keep moving to my hair. It's a tic, and I laugh.
"Do you think this is funny?"
"No, it's not. No."
"No, what?"

That becomes a battle all night... the fact that I don't want to say Sir, and the fact that I genuinely forget to say it. 

The punishment is about my snapping at my mother, losing my temper, being in bad moods and taking it out on people.
T starts with a warm-up over the same black yoga pants I wore last time. It's not too bad, but he reminds me that we haven't even begun anything yet.

When he starts with the bamboo brush, he pulls down my pants and gets me on the sit spot and upper thighs repeatedly. I am squirming so badly that he has to pin me down with his leg, and it hasn't even been a few minutes. The sting is incredible, I guess because it's such a small compacted area. But that is absolutely nothing compared to the bathbrush on the bare.

I never cried during this spanking, but it was almost too much for me to take. My panic, the pain, the immobility... it was just so many sensations at once, but T was unrelenting. At some point I let go of all my pride and BEGGED for him to slow down (which he did not), even saying Sir, and all he did was tell me to put both of my hands behind my back. Then he held onto both wrists and I could not move, and he got in about 50 strokes of the bath brush before I actually stood straight up and begged him to stop.
"This is a punishment, do you understand?"
"Yes, Sir."
"It's not supposed to feel good. We're not testing your limits and your likes and dislikes, okay?"
"Yes, Sir."
"It's going to hurt a lot, and that's the point."

And for the last half of the punishment, I was to count 25 strokes, and loudly.
"One, sir. I will not snap at people again."
That, I think, was the worst part. Just the fact that I had the power to dictate the next swing, but still had to say that... I can't even describe the emotions that went along with it. And T was good... he wouldn't smack right after I said the line. He would sometimes linger for a few seconds, and I would have no idea when the swat would land. But sometimes he would smack immediately. It was terrifying. And all 25 strokes were hard, at maximum swing. (He says they weren't, but I don't believe him.) 
In the middle, I messed up my line a few times... I couldn't even breathe or speak straight. I was whimpering, and I forgot to say Sir, and I forgot the numbers. T said that he would repeat anytime I spoke too quietly or incorrectly. I believe it happened twice. And the second time, I yelled at him, completely losing my temper, and kicked him: "THAT IS SO NOT FAIR. THAT COUNTS!" Which I paid for at the end of the 25 strokes, with another 25 all in a row.

In the end, he had me sit on his leg and say that I would never act that way again, or it would be even worse. I can't even fathom how much worse it could be without my actual death occurring in the process. 

My bottom is totally swollen... with a huge bruise on my right sit spot. It's just the kind of sting I "wanted"... I'm wearing a short dress and my skin sticks to the leather seat I have at work, and I have to constantly readjust because it just hurts too much. But peeling my skin off the leather is a sting in itself. There is no escape from this pain. 

I'm trying to think. We met at 8:45 and left around 9:45. Which means I had been spanked straight for about an hour. Maybe about 10 minutes of rest. Goddamn. 

Monday, June 11, 2012

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.)

Sunday, June 10, 2012


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.
"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.
"I am going to tell you to do something, and you are going to do what I say."
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?"
"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.

Thursday, June 7, 2012


I'm really so not used to having so much male attention... every time I log into Gchat, there are 3 or 4 windows that pop up, saying "Hi!" And I honestly don't know how to handle that.

Out of all the men that I have spoken to, there are 2 that I feel the most connection with, but in 2 very different ways.

First, J: He is everything that I've ever wanted in a top, in a boyfriend, in general. Educated, easy-going, playful, sarcastic, funny, patient, successful, stable. He gives me butterflies with his occasional toppy behavior and words, but is also lenient when he can see that I'm anxious. He makes me feel like "the crazy one" because he is so normal and calm, but that's okay because I feel like I can relax with him. And in terms of being a top, he is firm, but never over-the-top... never excessively dominating or scary. He is as vanilla as can be on surface level, until he says something like, "Well, you have to do what I say because I'm the top here, not you." Then it's butterflies all over. He's just a nice guy... a very nice guy.

Then, C: He's a year younger than J, but much more serious... "brooding" if you will. We don't play around much. He claims he is an easy-going guy in real life, but when I talk to him, I straighten myself up a little. I don't flirt and joke with him like I do with J. With J, I can get away with A LOT more, I cuss at him, and try to boss him around, see how he reacts. With C, I try to be better, more feminine, more submissive. He told me about his unstable family life, which, of course, made the rescuer in me melt, wanting to please him and save him. And he told me about how he made a girl cry one time while she was in cornertime because she talked back to him and he paid her back... and it totally thrilled me. He isn't unkind, but more of a no-nonsense, deadpan kind of guy.

And at the same time, I almost feel as though I'm living in a fantasy world with both guys. As much as I talk to them (and I do talk to them a lot), it's like I'm responding to thin air, to a mirage. Like, how likely is it that I'll meet either of them, or have a lasting relationship with them?

C and J represent the dual nature of my desires, what I have known and recognized in myself since I was a very young girl.

On one hand, I know what is good for me. I know that I myself am not the most carefree, relaxed person... I'm anxious, sometimes cold, sometimes withdrawn. So I need that funny guy... the guy who can make me laugh and bring out the sunny side. That's J.

But on the other, I have always been attracted to the darker guys... the ones that I have to work for. I'm sure every girl goes through their bad boy phase, that's nothing new. It makes me desperate to please, makes me more submissive, and the anxiety and fear and tension that their personalities evoke is yes, scary, but also arousing. And that's C.

With J, I know I can flirt my way out of big trouble... at least soften him up a little. C will have me regretting every wrong word I have ever said.

Tuesday, May 29, 2012


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.

Sunday, May 27, 2012


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.

Friday, May 25, 2012

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.