Been meaning to post...honest

Sorry to be so quiet of late. Most of my energy has been going toward my non-kink blog, but there have been things I've been meaning to post about here. Like the funny episode of "Everybody Hates Chris" in which he gets suspended from school and is sent to his room when he gets home to wait for his father. Chris Rock explains that meant he was getting a whipping and then describes in a tongue-in-cheek fashion that his father had a glass case in which he kept all the different belts he used for different offences like lying, stealing, getting a girl pregnant and doing drugs (that one was complete with mini gun holster). It totally made me laugh.

A. never uses the belt as punishment for me anymore because he knows I actually like it. And I do. When it first hits my skin, it hurts. But then in a half a second it turns into a very pleasurable sensation. Don't even get me started on the scrap strap (you have to scroll down) from Adam and Gillian's. Mmm...so nice. Well, except after I've been caned. Then...ooof! Boy does it stings!

And speaking of punishment, I've been meaning to post some thoughts on that too. While my spanking mojo is back (well, more or less) my punishment kink is not so much. I'm still working on my thoughts about that though, and I'll probably post that over at the Punishment Book when I do. Don't worry, I link to it from here.

As far as my health is concerned, bad news on that front. The clinic called last Thursday and -- aaarrgghh! -- I have another UTI. Despite all the cranberry juice, cranberry concentrate, and antibiotics, I still got one (and yes, I do know about mannose-d and have used it, but it's only effective for e.coli bacteria and my infections are usually caused by other bacteria). Well, at least they caught it before it got very painful so my mojo hasn't been as affected as before.

Which will hopefully mean A. and I will get to play a bit when he comes in five weeks or so. He's buying the plane ticket this week.

::smile::

"Spank his ass raw"

Every now and then you're going about your normal life when some spanking reference practically grabs you and smacks you in the face.

Such was the case Friday as I was sitting in the waiting area of the acupuncture clinic next door reading the woeful tale of our police chief caught in a Bill O'Reiley-esque sexual harassment scandal (with a little bit of big hair and long-standing black-on-white racial undertones thrown in) in the Portland Tribune.

A mentor of [police chief] Foxworth's and a longtime community activist in Northeast Portland...read the tort claim Wednesday afternoon. He said he felt sick...

"...If it is true, if Derrick was so stupid as to write all this nasty stuff down in an e-mail, I want to bring him over here right this second so I can spank his ass raw."

Now I haven't read the sordid emails, but perhaps that might not be the best disciplinary procedure in this case.

My mojo is back

Yep, I'm still tired as hell and spend most of the day in bed, but laying there gives me plenty of time to fantasize about getting my ass spanked. The current fantasy is actually a fairly severe one and involves me tied the bed and getting it with a riding crop, like in this oldie but goodie. Or maybe even birched.

::Sigh::

I think I need to go back to bed now.

::Grin::

My blog is not a personal ad

Lately I've been getting emails from guys wanting to "correspond" with me. Sometimes they manage to realize my real name is Michelle (listed right under "name" at the left). Sometimes they don't.

First, I have a boyfriend. We're very happy together. Indeed, if you read this blog at all, you would know that.

Second, if you read this blog you would also know that I've been really sick for the last few months. I can barely keep up with email from friends and family. Starting up longstanding correspondences with total strangers is just not going to make it onto my priority list.

Don't get me wrong. I'm really happy that my writing resonates with people, and I'm very happy to discuss specific topics (though I can't always promise I'll be prompt in my reply). If you're a woman, you apparently already know this because when women email me they usually have something specific in mind.

However, if you email me hoping to find a girlfriend, your email is going to be ignored -- at best. If I'm really cranky that day I'll probably tell you to fuck off.

A few things

Okay, gonna try and post this again. Tried to last night but my laptop shut down abruptly when it got too hot (one of the downsides of the Averatec) and I lost the post. Though I had already been online for about four hours, so it was probably some divine way of making me go back to resting (A. will be so pleased).

At any rate, one -- I'm out to my godfather, aka...er, what do you call your gay best friend when you're the hag? He's my godfather because he was my sponsor when I became Catholic six years ago and in the Byzantine rite that makes him very distinctly my godfather (indeed my priest quizzed me about whether or not there was a chance we might get married because that would be "awkward" and involve some sort of dispensation from the bishop). When he came out of the closet a couple of years later, it took our godfather/goddaughter relationship to new levels -- for the best, I believe.

Like many hag/gay guy relationships before the guy realizes he's gay, we tried going out for a bit but, of course, had no sexual chemistry. So we were talking the other night about how neither of us really understood what sexual chemistry was like until we started to explore our sexuality as it was meant to be. And I had to explain that happened for me when I typed "spanking" into Google.

"That's a huge one [fetish]."

Yup, it is indeed.

Second, I just watched All About Eve a few nights back and -- omg -- is the relationship between Margo and Bill not just gushing with spanking tension? You could cut it with the proverbial, cliched old knife. Oh, and brilliant movie by the way. Great writing.

Third, being out a bit more now has bumped up my spanking mojo a bit. The liberation of it all, perhaps? Chatting with him helped me clarify in my mind a bit more how to explain my attraction to the sub-fetish within spanking that is the punishment kink.

However, I've been on the laptop another four hours now after reading email and chatting with A. so I'll have to write more about those thoughts another time.

Race, privilege and spanking

I have so many spanko musings I want to write about as I've been spending a lot of time in bed with nothing to do but think. But I'm still too tired to write much or even talk much so it's going to have just ferment for a bit.

But, I do have a bit of reading for you all. No tests will be forthcoming but comments will get you extra credit. ;)

First off is this article from Alternet about a course on African-American sexuality. Let's face it: most of us blogging or posting to newsgroups about spanking are white. Not all certainly, but...well, the vast majority. And it's something I've found rather curious.

Among his students, he finds that "certain things are considered taboo because they're considered things that white people do. For example, gay and lesbian identity is considered white, introduced to blacks during slavery and not organic to Africa. Religiosity also comes up; sexual practice is conflated with religious prerogatives."

And it's not just us bloggers, most academics studying sexuality are white too.

...a notion prevails that sexuality studies is something that white people do and something that people of color have done to them. This paradigm sets up a power dynamic that can leave people of color dissociated from the sexuality research field.

And we're not just talking about homosexuality or interracial dating. The topic of BDSM is also part of this course on African-American sexuality.

"We've had this motif that runs through the course: It's called power," Baham says. "I ask the students: How about if we play with power? How about if we play with violence? How about if we play with slavery? I talk about BDSM as a political act. [In BDSM], all the issues with gender roles, slavery, violence and power, all of these come to a head...Baham starts by talking about spanking or being spanked as an example of what BDSM can entail. He'll often bring in a guest speaker from the BDSM community. Through these discussions, the students are able to see the potential for BDSM to be, as he puts it, "a redemptive and spiritual act." His students often mention having a slight interest in the topic, but that they don't know what it is and think that it's a "white thing." Despite this, students report that the idea of "doing things that are aggressive or submissive is exciting. There's a tremendous amount of interest, but real lack of information on it," Baham says.

A lot of it reflects white privilege, something most white people don't think about much but something Peggy McIntosh wrote a very famous essay about many years ago in which she listed the various daily effects of white privilege. Now, DarkDaughta has used McIntosh's essay as a template to list the effects of sexual conservatism privilege. As a spanko I found myself nodding frequently as I read through the list. I need to read it a few more times to give a serious review of the post, but I certainly encourage you all to read it as well. Granted, as a spanko I'm often able to blend in with "vanillas" far better than those with more visible sexuality, and I certainly wouldn't consider any oppression I've suffered from because of my sexuality to be near the level that those who are black or gay have suffered (though the "who's suffered more" game is frequently pretty pointless).

And of course, when you mix gender, race and class all up together, it gets really, really interesting.

But at any rate, some stuff I've read recently that pertains to issues surrounding our kink that I thought some of you might find interesting too. If nothing else, it's something to keep you busy until I have the energy to write something of my own.

Maybe?

I think my spanking mojo is coming back. I got that familiar tingle when A. called me a bad girl this afternoon.

Yup. Just maybe it's finally coming back...



P.S. A belated Happy International Women's Day to you all. I should have Blogged Against Sexism here too (I did over at BTS) but as my spanking mojo didn't wake up until this afternoon, I didn't think to do it here. Hope you celebrated the dignity and power of women in many wonderful ways. :)

Still no spanking mojo

Well, I didn't want the month to go by without posting something.

My health is a little bit better. Under the care of the urogynecologists up at Oregon Health Science University, I'm sans UTI for the moment, most likely because they are keeping me on antibiotics indefinitely. Aside from the persistent yeast infections that aggravate my pelvic pain (which all the yogurt, probiotics, garlic supplements, aloe vera juice, caprylic acid, Shen Bai wash, elimination of sugar and yeast, and just about any other home remedy you can think of have not eliminated), my pain level has dropped back down to the point where my narcotic use this month has been about half of what it was last month.

But there hasn't been much sign of my spanking mojo.

Even now that A. has gone back to the U.K. (we kept joking that it'd come back the minute he left).

Yeah, a lot of it is just pain phobia and lack of any sort of a libido. While the bladder pain is mostly gone, my skin is now having problems with heat (I itch like crazy after a hot bath or doing the dishes or now even turning the heat on). I normally have minor problems with eczema but this seems to be different and any friction aggravates it to no end. I see the doctor on Friday to see what fresh hell this is.

However, the issue has been more emotional. I guess it's just that the idea of being controlled, even just for play, isn't at all appealing. Some of that probably does have to do with the lack of control over my body I've had these last several months, though I haven't had a lot of control over my body for years now. And maybe that's just it. I think that lack of control has accumulated to the point where I just feel like rebelling. Of telling those wanting to control me -- doctors, the Church, society -- to fuck off.

And, well, needless to say, it's seeped into my sexuality for the moment.

Now, I've been fantasizing about being spanked just about every day of my life since I was six or so. And not having those familiar fantasies to lull me to sleep at night has been rather disorienting. But, I know that once the dust settles, I'll be back to my naughty little girl self.

In the meantime, I'm sorta coming in touch with my feminist self. Which doesn't bother A. too much. His only request was, "please don't stop shaving your pussy."

Oh what I do for the Patriarchy... ;)

Losing my spanking-mojo

Something I ponder over at the Punishment Book.

For the discreet exhibitionist

eBay: OTK Bumper Stickers - Spanking Over the Knee

A member of our Oregon Spanking yahoo group posted a plug for his International circle-style OTK bumper stickers.

These black & white oval bumper stickers measure 4 inches x 6 inches and are made of top quality vinyl that is resistant to weather, car washes, etc. --- they're not cheap paper decals.

So, you know, if you're having problems finding a partner via chatrooms or just want to flaunt your spanko-ness in a more tasteful way (and hey, what's more tasteful than a bumper sticker, I say), for a mere $2.35 this little label could be gracing your bumper. Er...auto or otherwise.

Taking the plunge

I've been thinking of linking to my non-kink blog for awhile, and since my career is shot at this point (or seriously on hold for awhile), as well as my spanking life rather ephemeral for the time being (yeah, all those spanko cravings are soooo gone and nowhere to be found at the moment), I figured it would give you all something to read (I update that blog several times a week). Granted there aren't a lot of scintillating details. Mostly just the odd musings/rants of a housebound former academic who would say all this stuff to real people if I actually had more contact with them (okay, it's probably a tad more interesting than that though I can't promise just how much more).

In the future I'm going to be writing about my body and how we construct the concept of the body in popular, religious, and medical culture, and at some point my spanking kink is going to come into that. So, rather than spend a lot of time cross-posting and trying to remember what I said where, it felt like a better use of my energy to just direct you all there.

Besides, you clever stalkers out there have probably already figured out how to follow the links from this blog to that blog anyway (here to Mija then to Michelle). And I already outed myself in the comments section of the "Best birthday present of all" post (stupid Blogger won't let me delete the name, though I could delete the comment). So, you know, might as well just take the plunge and do it properly.

Though, not quite brave enough to link from there to here yet.
Oh, and in adding it to the links at the side, I also cleaned up those links and added some that I've been meaning to add for awhile. Enjoy.

Respite

The last couple of days my pain level has dropped to more manageable levels. So, I've been poking A. to spank me. Literally. It's my subtle way of bratting for it.

Last night he half joked as we waited for an old friend of mine to stop by for a visit that he was going to spank me before she came so I'd have a sore bottom while we visited. I think both of us got a little busy in the meantime before that phone call from her requesting that I buzz her in. After visiting for a couple of hours, she left and A. and I decided we could go for a bit of tuna fish. As it was midnight or so, I went to the bathroom afterwards to brush my teeth and get ready for bed. And came out with my hair in pigtails.

You know, just to remind him that he forgot something earlier.

"Oh oh oh! Pigtails," A. exclaimed as he sprawled out on the bed flipping among late night shows. I grinned and climbed up to join him. As we cuddled and wandered from Leno to Letterman to Kimmel, he caressed my flannel-clad bottom.

Gawd I love it when he does that.

Though I admit I was getting a bit impatient. So, I started poking. Which he ignored. But the caressing was nice. Smooth circular motions outlining my ample backside and crack. The other hand sometimes caressing my hair. Playing with my pigtails.

As he watched the opening monologue of Craig Ferguson, it was all I could do to keep from screaming "would you just fucking spank me already!" while he chuckled and made comments about Ferguson not being quite as bad as he originally reckoned. Finally, the monologue was over, and A. flipped off the telly.

"Alright. Over my knee."

That wonderful place I've missed for almost four months -- including twenty days of him being here.

We scooted around and I assumed my position and he tugged down my jimjam bottoms as I lifted my hips slightly. There were some soft smacks and then the harder ones.

Good gawd is my pain threshold shit.

I mean, I'd already taken my bedtime narcotics and those smacks still stung like crazy. Had me kicking and squirming and whimpering and clenching my teeth. And it was only his hand.

Of course, there was lots of rubbing in between. And alternating of hard and soft smacks. There was a little bladder pain, and it probably would have been more comfortable had I put a pillow on his lap, but I couldn't be bothered to interrupt play with anything illness-related. Eventually he motioned for me to get up.

"I'm going out to smoke, and I want you to lay on the bed and wait for me to give you the cane."

The endorphines had finally kicked in so I wasn't nearly as afraid as I might have been otherwise. It was even hard to put myself in that naughty, scary frame of mind as I lay there with my flannel pj bottoms at mid thigh while my bare, pink ass awaited further punishment.

"Right. I'm going to give you eight strokes," A. said as he picked up the cane upon his return. "Count them please."

"Yes, Sir." I scrunched my eyes shut waiting for hot, horrible pain. It was hot, but not necessarily horrible. Indeed, the eighth stroke came rather quickly. We cuddled for a bit after that until he told me it was bedtime. "But, I don't wanna go to bed."

"Excuse me?" With feigned, stern shock. "I haven't put the cane away yet."

Normally this would solicit instant compliance. But, you know, those eight strokes were so quick. And not as hard as I expected.

"I don't want to go to bed." With my mischievous grin. He calmly stood up and picked the cane up off the chair.

"Well, that'll teach me for being too light on you," A. said with a smile. "Right. Eight more. Count them please."

And that time they sure did hurt alright.

Though, I think if it hadn't been 1:30 am and might have waken the neighbors, I probably would have begged for the strap.

But, I obeyed this time. Got up and turned out the lights, though not before admiring my marks in the mirror. Then snuggled under the covers on a stingy bottom, still hungry for more but grateful for this little window of opportunity.

Yep, the urologist's office called about an hour or so ago and said my cystoscopy will be next Tuesday. Then the UTI pain starts all over again.

Swell.

Upadate: A. could read my mind even if he hadn't yet read this post. The next afternoon, as the cane was still resting on the chair, A. couldn't resist the urge to pick it up as I walked through the room. He gave me a few on my breasts and a few more over my pj bottoms. Then got out the strap. ::big grin:: Except I wasn't grinning once he started whacking me. Damn that thing hurts over a sorely caned bottom! Then he took me over his knee again and almost had me crying with a really hard handspanking. Almost.

It was very cool. ;)

"Gotta take advantage of my windows," he said as we cuddled afterwards. Must have read this post, I thought. Nope. Hadn't had a chance yet. "But now I'm really curious."

Alas, the window closed by that night as a new medicine took affect and my back and pelvis started hurting from a yeast infection. Fingers-crossed my UA will still be UTI free today. Not sure how it will affect the schedule for the cystoscopy on Tuesday if I do have one.

To all those morons in IRC chat rooms

Okay, if you can't spell or use apostrophes correctly, you can't spank me.

A little Boxing Day spanko reading

Hope you have all had a nice Christmas/Kwaanza/Hanukkah. Mine was busy with baking and making presents, so Boxing Day has been a day to sleep. Seriously. Didn't get up until 4pm.

My last post reminded me of a story by one of my all-time favorite spanko writers, John Benson. He writes wonderfully complex stories about the variety of emotions that intersect in those attracted to spanking or being spanked. He even makes me enjoy fantasy and science fiction. "The Wicked Witch" is about Carla, an Empath who helps a naughty boy, Jimmy, appreciate that he has a choice about who he lets spank him. Once he gets rid of the Wicked Witch who has been spanking him, he pleads with Carla to spank him. She hesitates because as an Empath, she can feel every stroke.

She struck him and a white hot line of pain was on her buttocks as well as his. She felt the way this was true punishment for him, true acceptance of his guilt. And she felt the way in which it was not punishment at all, but scratching of a psychic itch as primal and compelling as the urge to fuck could ever be. And so she was able to strike again. And again. And cry out with him in a shared symphony of pain and strike again, until they both could take no more.

I've always loved that description of spanking being a "psychic itch." And, well, that's what makes John Benson such a great writer.

Another article I might point your attention to is one mentioned on the soc.sexuality.spanking newsgroup in the New Yorker about C.S. Lewis. It's actually a fascinating, exquisite article about him on a number of levels, but there was also a paragraph about his spankophila.

This loving and mother-deprived boy was sent to a series of nightmarish English boarding schools, where he was beaten and bullied and traumatized beyond even the normal expectations of English adolescence. Lewis’s own words about the places are practically Leninist. (One headmaster raced down the length of a room with his cane to beat a lower-middle-class boy, enraged by his social pretensions.) Lewis writes about his last school, Malvern, at such length, and with such horror—with far more intensity than he writes even about serving on the Western Front—that it’s clear that the trauma, coming at a time of sexual awakening, was deep and lasting. It seems to have had the usual result: Lewis developed and craved what even his Christian biographer, Jacobs, calls “mildly sadomasochistic fantasies”; in letters to a (homosexual) friend, he named the women he’d like to spank, and for a time signed his private letters “Philomastix”—“whip-lover.”

A bright and sensitive British boy turned by public-school sadism into a warped, morbid, stammering sexual pervert. It sounds like the usual story...

I never knew Lewis was a spanko. I think what was so fascinating in this article was understanding Lewis' internal life and seeing the tension that existed between that and his rigid Christianity. Not that such a tension is necessary. But it was interesting to see how it played out for him. I live so much of my life, particularly that in relation to spanking, within my inner world and have struggled with that tension between what I've thought God demanded and that which makes me feel real joy. Seeing the tragedy of how Lewis was unable to truly reconcile the two has made me think about the importance of averting such a tragedy in my own life.

At any rate, hope your holidays have been a blessing in whatever way you celebrate them.

That unscratched itch

What type of spanking do you crave?
brought to you by Quizilla

(via Poiesia)

Honestly? I have no idea what kind of spanking I crave. Yeah, role play might be fun. A "just because" spanking might be nice too. Emotionally, I could probably go for a punishment spanking. But, everything between my waist and the middle of my ass still aches so when I think about the logistics of getting spanked, it leaves me feeling very, very ambilivilent.

I hate it.

Gosh, I started tearing up when I typed that last sentence. It's like I'm having to supress this whole part of me. A really important part of me. And it just aches.

I suggested to A. the other night as we drifted off to sleep that perhaps implements that are stingy and don't push my butt into my bladder might work. Or maybe we could try my hands or my breasts or (gulp) my thighs. Or try non-physical punishments.

A.'s missed using his cane. So, last night as it was Sunday night, he decided we should chat a bit about the upcoming week. And since canes are more stingy and don't necessarily push the buttocks in so much, we decided to try it.

I told him to make sure and aim low. He agreed. We tried piling the pillows up like we usually do, but that was really uncomfortable so I got rid of them and just put a flat pillow down under my chest like I do at night to sleep or at acupuncture. He took down my pajama bottoms and gave me a few light strokes, though I felt so incapable of processing them. He sat down next to me and talked about me getting back into routine and I agreed. He gave me a few more strokes that were still fairly light but felt dreadful. Particularly the one that hit my thigh. When I whined about it, he reminded me that I told him to aim low.

Sigh. I had.

We cuddled after that, which was nice. But, you know, the spanking hadn't really been enough to have that sort of catharsis. Not that all spankings do that. Some are just short and sweet and perfectly fine that way. But I need the long spanking. My inner brat needs it. My sulky, pouty inner bitch needs it.

It's like needing an itch scratched and not being able to scratch it.

Have you Wikied spanking before?

My boyfriend did the other night and you might be interested to know that Wikipedia has a fairly lengthy entry on spanking including a discussion of procedures and positions. There is also a separate entry on erotic spanking to specifically explain us perverts.

Sulking

Remember when I said this a little over a month ago?

All I have to say is that if I start feeling too sick again to play when he gets here in 28 days, I'm going to be super pissed.

And of course, as Murphy's/sod's law would have it, I am too sick now that A. is here. The doctor called me on Monday to say that my urine culture showed that I'm actually infected with TWO bacteria requiring two separate antibiotics because each is resistant to the other's antibiotic.

So, I'm hurting and groggy and really, really annoyed at the moment. My brain totally wants to play but my body sooooo does not.

Stupid urinary tract infections and accompanying back and pelvic pain.

That urologist so better figure out what's wrong and take care of it very, very soon. No more Miss Compliant Patient here. Next Friday when I'm in his office it's going to be "quit dicking around and get that damn cystoscope in my bladder so we can see what the hell is happening in there!"

Hmm...not sure if that came out quite the way I intended. But, I'm on a lot of drugs right now (A. is trying to be the medicine nazi so that I remember to take it all) so I figure I've got a good excuse if stuff doesn't come out right.

The best birthday present of all

Yep. A. got in Wednesday night -- just in time to give me my birthday spanking yesterday. At the end of a quiet day with a lovely dinner and lovely, er...loving (let's just say it involved a spreader bar and ginger root), there were 33 solid handspanks before I drifted off to sleep.

::happy sigh::

Alas, there probably won't be too many spankings for a bit though. My UA today showed that I've got another UTI, which explains the back pain and extra fatigue this week. So, two weeks more on antibiotics, and then it'll be time for a cystoscopy and a biopsy.

::apprehensive sigh::

At least A. will be here to go to the hospital with me and look after me once I'm home.

Curious about control

I've been thinking a lot lately about the idea of control and spanking. People often talk about the loss of control they feel when they are spanked and the appeal of that loss of control. However, I've never really had that loss of control. I always know the spanking is something I agreed to. Maybe not that specific one, but in general I agreed to do or not do whatever and the consequences for doing or not doing whatever. That I can stop it at any moment, but chose not to even though it hurts a ton.

I suppose it's something I'm more curious about than anything. The only times I've ever felt a real loss of control, it's been the few times A. and I have played "Master and slave" and then it's been a horrible feeling, despite being very aroused when we talk about it doing it. Like what I used to feel with my stepfather. So, we're going to change some of the ways we play so I don't end up in that headspace.

But I guess I wonder about it in terms of that feeling of being little -- that Natty part of me -- that I really do like. Do I reach that little feeling better when I'm not in control like an adult? If so, then I how do I do that?

I suppose I always approach spanking as an adult, even though the appeal of it has to do with feeling like a child. Of being able to be this childlike part of me that rarely gets to come out. Yet, I need to approach it as an adult in order to protect that childlike part of me.

Plus, well, there's a lot about being an adult that I like. I remember a few years ago I was standing on a curb next to a mother and her child waiting to cross the street. The mother told her child that they couldn't cross the street because the big orange hand was up. I looked to my right and left and noticing that there wasn't a car coming, went ahead and crossed the street. "Mommy, why is she crossing the street?" the kid asked. I chuckled to myself and thought, because I'm a grown-up and I can.

Or the other night when I was in a chat room with a friend while I was watching "South Park." She happens to think it's um...well, not the most edifying show and as she switches, suggested maybe "mother" should come in and make me stop or else. I laughed and said "oh, I'd just leave then."

Yeah, I don't really like someone controlling my viewing habits either.

I dunno. I suppose having been a parent of sorts, I don't believe parenting is about controlling children, but about providing a safe environment that allows them grow as human beings. For my stepfather, it was all about control. And I suppose when it comes to being that child-like part of me, the adult part of me doesn't really want her to be controlled but to grow as a human being.

Though, I suppose there is also the appeal of an all-wise parental figure, sorta like the tradition of the spiritual father/mother we have in the Eastern Orthodox/Byzantine Church telling me what to do and following him or her regardless. But then, they don't really make good partners for, um, other things...

I do think there's still an element of the adult-me taking over during a spanking when I really need to let that Natty part of me be the one getting spanked. I guess you could say that in subtle ways I can be a real control freak.

Hence my utter wonder at the whole "losing control" thing.

In case you missed it...

...there's a link to that SNL skit with Catherine Zeta Jones getting spanked as well as spanking her groom. You'll need to scroll down to "television" and click on "Spanker's Wedding."

Hat tip to a couple of people on the soc.sexuality.spanking newsgroup who posted this.