Grumble, Grumble

Red says that I can't stay in bed wallowing in depression. He says I can either get up and do something or I can get spanked.

So, I'm up and doing something. I'm grumbling about what a butthead he is.

I'd rather be in bed right now.

But I'm not in bed right now, and do you know why?

That's right. Because Red is a butthead.

I'm still here...

Hello all... This is a "Don't worry about me, I'm still alive" post. I'm not sure why I've been so quiet lately except that I've just not been feeling inspired to post. There have not been many spankings around here, although things look like they'll be picking up again soon, as Red seems to be feeling more comfortable with the power that I've given him. We'll see what happens...

I have read the (in)famous Wakeman article. I, too, should be posting a response to it. I put the article aside so that I could do some mental processing. I'd like to reread it one more time before I formulate a response. Here's hoping I can quit being so damn lazy about posting!

I've received some comments on older posts lately. For those who've commented, I've finally managed to post responses to you. Please don't think that I'm ungrateful. I really am so happy to have readers who find something that they can relate to here and/or about which they feel inspired to comment.

So, I guess this is it for now. I hope all of you are doing well. I hope to be posting again soon. I certainly plan on it! I guess this is as good a reason as any for Red and I to start fooling around more... Wish me luck!

_____ and Punishment

I hope that this post makes sense. Not only am I confused about the topic myself, but I'm awake earlier than I should be thanks to a kitten who decided that nibbling on my fingertips was an absolutely irresistible idea.

I've had this internal debate going on in my head for a while. Sometimes I wonder if spanking is a healthy thing for me. The thing is, I have this guilt that builds up in me that is unattached to any real crime. I'm not sure where this comes from except for a desire to be perfect that I cannot possibly fulfill.

Sometimes, an intense desire to be punished creeps up inside of me. When I tell Red how I feel, he always asks me if I've done something wrong. I never really have an answer to that... Oh, it's a bunch of things. Maybe I ought to have stayed awake just a little bit longer the day before so that I could have unloaded the clean dishes from the dishwasher. Or maybe I forgot to return a phone call to someone. Little things that happen more because I'm human than because I'm bad.

I've heard that so many people experience guilt relief after they've been punished. I can't say that I ever have. I'm not sure if this is because I'm a black hole of guilt and no amount of punishment could ever balance it out. Or maybe because Red never really punishes me, so I can't reach that elysium.

Red tends to shy away from punishing me for a few reasons. The main one being that he is afraid of reinforcing my unreasonable guilt. He doesn't want it to be an affirmation to me that I am "bad." He also has trouble getting upset with the things that I feel guilty over because he believes that I am just being too hard on myself.

I get angry with him sometimes over this. A while ago I asked him, "Are you waiting for me to murder someone?" I am generally a good girl. I can't help that. And I don't feel like I should be forced to purposely do something bad in order to be punished. I've been tempted, but I just can't bring myself to do so. So, I'm left unable to experience whatever benefits punishment might ultimately offer.

On the other hand, I share his fear. My guilt is so bad now... What if it got worse as a result of punishment? What if he punishes me just as hard as he safely can, and I just end up feeling more guilty than before because now he thinks I'm bad too?

Is there a guiltless elysium waiting for me just on the other side of a thorough punishment? Is there relief to be reached on the other side of all these raging emotions?

I've grown up feeling like I needed to put a cork on my emotions because life was already too unpredictable and I couldn't afford to rock the boat (which was already leaking and sinking quite fast). Sometimes it makes a hell of a lot of sense to me that I'd feel so much better if I could safely allow all of this fear and anger and guilt (reasonable or not) to come flooding out of me, and that I'd be so much safer in doing so with Red's support. It would be a new experience to have someone there who would love me and take care of me through all that.

On the other hand, maybe I'm wrong. Maybe I am an endless pit of anxieties and ugly feelings and no matter how much pours out of me, there will always be that much and more still there.

Is it really even fair to ask Red to take all that on?

Testing?

Ok, I'm still fairly new to blogging so I could be doing something very very stupid...

I've posted comments on others' blogs today, but when trying to post a comment on my own to reply to someone else's, it isn't letting me! I'm wondering now if it'll let me post a regular post. If anyone knows what the heck is up with this, please let me know.

ARGH!

Well, sorry for the boring post, but I'm trying to figure this thing out. Oh, and I guess just so that I can save the text of this response somewhere, I'll stick it on the bottom of this for now.

In regards to comments on "Men in Uniform:"

Sparkle and Chris,

Please forgive me for taking so long to respond to this... my own embarrassment over it has made it difficult.

Sparkle - I'm utterly tickled that out of 741 posts, my blog stood out enough to be worth a read through. That made my day. :)

Chris - Thank you for your understanding. This little issue of mine has been particularly concerning to me because I've recently learned that my neice is also afraid of firemen. A fireman came to her school and she was fine when he was out of uniform, but had a meltdown when he put his uniform on. Also, she's autistic, and from what I've heard, a lot of autistic children tend to hide in closets and under beds during house fires because all of the chaos is too overstimulating to them. So it is really really important to me that she knows to run toward a fireman instead of away. So I know that I need to get this problem under control NOW. How can I help teach her not to be afraid when I so clearly am?
Anyway, thanks to you both. :)

Rose

Kinky or Vanilla?

So, Red and I had house guests this past week, who just left this morning to return home. Our guests were a man who has been one of Red's best friends for about twenty years now (whom I will call "A."), and his wife (whom I will call "M.").

As far as we know, this couple is entirely vanilla, so before they arrived I carefully made sure that our toys were all put away and out of sight. After having spent the past week with these people, Red and I are left wondering whether our discretion was really necessary.

On separate occasions over the course of the week, Red and I each witnessed A. deliver a playful spanking to M. When I witnessed it, M., who is much smaller than A., was climbing onto A.'s lap. He was sitting in our recliner chair, and she is tiny, so it took a little effort on her part to do this. Before she could sit down, A. wrapped his arm around her, pulled her OTK (well, OTL, really) and delivered several firm (but not really hard) swats to her bottom. She wiggled and whined, and he let her up. And that was that.

Apparently Red witnessed a similar event later in the week, as well as being a part of an interesting exchange in a local store. Red took them both to a local Walmart-type store to do some shopping. As they were walking through the kitchen section, A. apparently pulled a spatula down from the display.

"Do you know how I know this is a good spatula?" A. asked Red.

"No... how?" Red asked.

A. slapped the spatula hard against his hand. M. jumped and again protested. A. laughed and put the spatula away.

Things like this, along with some other general toppiness that occurred, has both Red and I wondering if these people are spankos (or at least the guy, anyway).

So, what do you all think? What clues do you look for to tell whether someone is kinky or vanilla?

Vanilla Spankings: Part 3

So, during my senior year of high school and freshman year of college, one of my closest friends was dating a guy whom I will call C. C was very tall and very slender - the kind of guy who, even though he was much bigger than me, I simply couldn't see as physically imposing because he looked like he was all skin and bone. I spent quite a bit of time with my friend and C, during which I learned that there was definitely more to him than skin and bone.

During this time, my favorite way to deal with stress and insomnia was to go for long walks. It didn't matter to me what the weather was like, or what time it was. When I felt I needed to walk, I walked.

C hated that I did this. In fact, Red hates that I do this too. It seems that I most want to walk when I can't sleep at night. Only last night I was told that there was NO WAY that he was going to let me go out for a walk in the middle of the night. He said it in that grumpy voice that makes me think I'd better listen.

I remember one weekend night I'd gone out for a walk. It was sometime around midnight or 1 a.m. C was driving home from his job as a dishwasher at a restaurant and happened to spot me. He slowed his truck to a crawl and barked at me through the open passenger-side window.

"I'm fine, C," I called to him, trying to wave him off.

Suddenly the truck was parked and I walked into a wall of C. My nose literally hit his chest. Suddenly I was airborne. He'd lifted me off my feet and tried to put me into the passenger seat of his truck. I struggled, and got a hard smack on the behind for my efforts.

"What the hell was that?!?!" I remember asking. He'd slapped my butt so hard that I thought he'd managed to make a paddle materialize out of nowhere. But it was just his bony hand. My butt ached for a while from just that one smack.

I remember that he scolded me the whole way home and made veiled threats about what would happen if he ever caught me out walking by myself after dark again. I pouted and tried to argue, but didn't push my luck.

Later, after I complained to my friend about what a Neanderthal her boyfriend had been, she confided that he'd spanked her once after she'd done something he found particularly frustrating.

I suppose that C is probably a spanko, though that was the last time my friend ever mentioned having been spanked. He was certainly always a toppy kind of guy. But I guess I'll never be sure about him though.

Vanilla Spankings: Part 2

My memories of high school and my antics with my friends are a blur of random ass-slappings. No proper spankings, mind you, but one or two of these events had a similar feel.

I can't say I was a part of the in-crowd. I wasn't really a part of the out-crowd either. I spent most of my time in the fine arts department, participating in extra-curricular activities. I was in theatre and in multiple choirs. The other students were a mixture from all different cliques, with the exception of jocks because their practice times always conflicted with the practice times in fine arts. So I was friends with almost everyone in high school. I can't really remember having any enemies. If I wasn't friends with a particular student, it was only because our conflicting schedules kept us from getting to know each other.

The fine arts department was a particularly friendly place at my school, as I recall. I've even continued to be friends with the teachers from that department. Anyhow, my point is that within my circle of friends, we were all fairly free with our bodies. It was not unusual to receive a random goose from someone in passing. A bunch of horny teenagers, we were.

I couldn't possibly recount all of the ass-slappings that occurred during my high school years. There are a few that stand out in my mind, though.

I remember rehearsing a scene on stage after school with a few other friends. I was always extremely afraid of being on stage, so silliness became a method of coping with my anxiety. My friend Brandon was good to me though. He was very comfortable on stage, so he made sure that we were always paired together in theatre class. He became my support system in the class and coached me through each scene to help me feel as comfortable as possible. Anyhow, during this one rehearsal period, we'd let the silliness get out of hand. It was around 6pm, so we'd been rehearsing for more than three hours for a scene that was supposed to be less than ten minutes long. I was giggling with a girlfriend of mine who was also in the scene, when all of the sudden I felt a sharp slap on my bottom.

"Pay attention," Brandon growled. And with that, I was completely focused again.

I also had other male friends who were frustratingly chivalrous. Now, in my late twenties, I recognize chivalry for what is is, and most of the time I think it is sweet even when I think it is annoying. Back then, however, I just found it annoying.

Again, in the theatre, I was working after school to prepare for a play. I was carrying a large box of props back to the prop room. My friend Jason appeared next to me and tried to take the box from me.

"I can do it myself," I protested.

"That box is too heavy," he insisted. "You're going to hurt yourself."

I rolled my eyes. He slapped my backside and took the box from me.

"Bully," I muttered after him.

You know, now that I'm writing about this, a bunch more examples are coming back to me. I don't know if perhaps I was somehow releasing spanko pheromones wherever I went, or if I just attended a school full of spankos. Or perhaps I just frustrate everyone around me into becoming temporary spankers.

Red would probably think it is the latter. But then, he's a bully too. :)