An Honest Look At Some Recent Play Dates

I guess the first thing I need to do with this post is apologize to my readers. I know it's been a really long time since I've posted anything. There are several reasons for this. First off, my life got a bit crazy. I have been working all the time and that doesn't leave much time (or energy, to be honest) for the mental gymnastics this blog sometimes requires. Another reason is that I, plain and simply, haven't had much to write about. I've had the odd play date here and there, but nothing steady. I'll get to those in a moment. I'm truly sorry that I have been neglecting this blog. When I first started it back in February, 2008 I was still really enthusiastic about the spanking scene, despite 2008 being my fifth year in the scene. I wanted to share my experiences with others in a way that was different than just posting it on Fetlife. I wanted the freedom to say what I wanted to say or what I felt needed saying without fear of being excoriated for it (which I have been on numerous occasions). It's not that I can't stand to be criticized. I can handle constructive criticism as well as the next person. I'm keenly aware that my views are unpopular, another reason I wanted a place to write my thoughts freely. For a long time, this blog served a therapeutic purpose. I didn't necessarily care if people agreed with me or not. I just wanted a place to get my feelings out. When my twin died, that became even more important because I had always had her to share all of my thoughts and feelings with. So now, for better or worse, I share them with the blogosphere.

Look that that lady. That's one happy spanko. Unfortunately, this photo is three years old. My life was quite a bit different back then. I had a different job, but I had many more opportunities to play it seemed. When it came to play, I was a lot busier than I am now. For some reason, I don't seem to be as desirable a play partner as I used to be. This realization caused a certain level of dissatisfaction to creep in. I still don't understand how my stock could plummet this far this fast, but I'm coming to grips with the fact that regular play for me (with a regular partner) is out of the realm of possibility for me right now. Things could change in the future so I'm not ruling it out, but several recent play dates have been disappointments for me. I don't mean the actual play. That was totally great in every case. But it looks like those are doomed to be one-offs and I won't be seeing those gentlemen anymore. 

The first play date of 2016 was with a local guy (within 15 miles of me). He had sent me a friend request and I sent him a message back saying that I don't accept friend requests without a message of introduction first. I thought for sure I had met him at a local event a couple of years previously, but he assured me we hadn't met. So we made plans to meet on a Friday. He was on time, which was nice, but I got the impression he was more interested in sex than spanking me. 

When he showed me to his bedroom (where we were going to play), imagine my shock at seeing just a bare mattress. There weren't even pillowcases on the pillows. Now don't get me wrong here. I don't need a formal set-up to play with someone. But it was January and I thought some blankets were warranted. Apparently, he didn't agree. I just think that when someone comes over to your house, have the bed made. And when we stopped for a break, there wasn't even anything in the house to drink. He offered me bottled water, which I took because I was dying of thirst. When we went into the kitchen, there was an open box of cereal on the counter (from breakfast?) and dirty dishes in the sink. As I said, I don't demand pristine conditions, but a little cleaning up if you're a bachelor isn't asking too much, is it? I had to keep encouraging him to spank me because he kept wanting to do other things. I don't think he's as much of a spanko as I thought.

The next play date was a month later, right before Valentine's Day. This was an older gentleman than I was used to playing with but I didn't let that put me off. We had quite a spirited exchange of messages and I was encouraged. He was polite and we talked about a lot of different subjects, including baseball (which gained him Brownie points with me). He admitted he was pretty new to this, but very eager to give it a try. He did talk about being a nudist and that made me a bit uncomfortable. But when the Big Day came, he messaged me about how excited he was and admitted he'd made a dry run to my house earlier in the week so he wouldn't get lost trying to find my house. He was a few minutes early but that was OK. Since it was so cold, I wore a sweater and jeans and felt that would have to do. When we got to his house, it was beautiful. He was retired, so he had time to spend keeping the place neat. He had lots of wooden figurines, which he had carved himself. The coolest thing of all (at least to me) was the little red Corvette he kept in his garage (it wasn't the car he picked me up in, though I would have been thrilled to have him pull up in that red beauty). We spent a lot of time talking, despite all the messages we'd sent each other on Fetlife. He was a widower, he told me. His wife had died of cancer five years previously. I told him I had lost my twin to cancer the same year and so we had that in common. I showed him my rather extensive toy bag, which he had asked to see. But I sensed a distinct lack of interest on his part. But when it came time to play, he was right there. His leather couch served as the perfect place for me to get over his knee. He spent a lot of time hand spanking me, which was OK. As a relative beginner, I thought concentrating on the warm up was a good thing. 

I figured his experience with implements was limited so I had him use simple things on me, mostly leather. To my surprise, he could bring it pretty well for someone who was inexperienced. After about an hour and a half of playing, he realized it was getting late and he asked me if I'd like to go get something to eat. Sure, that would be nice. Compared to the previous play date, who couldn't even be bothered to clean up the kitchen or put sheets on the bed, this was an amazing invitation. He took me to his favorite Chinese place and we had a lovely meal. I felt like somewhat of a pig because I ate the whole plate of food, which was substantial. I told him "You have to excuse me. I haven't eaten today." I didn't have the guts to tell him that it had taken me almost all day to get ready for this little date. I'd gotten up that morning and walked (in very cold weather) to the nail salon where I get my nails done. Then I came home and dyed my hair. After that, I got in the tub and did my shaving and everything. By the time all this was done, I had about half an hour to put my make up on. Since he had been married for so long, I figured he knew that women take a long time to get ready. Actually, I had been scheduled to work that day, but I'd been suspended for one day for making an error on a Western Union transaction. There had been a malfunction of the website and the money ($35) went to the wrong place. My direct supervisor had not wanted me to get in any trouble because she said it wasn't my fault, but the store manager is a bit of a meanie so I got the one-day suspension. 

When we returned to his house, we resumed our play, this time in the basement, where he had a table set up. It was warm down there and I asked him if he minded if I removed my sweater and of course, he didn't mind. We continued on, using the long straps and the cane. I was started to feel pretty toasted and I suggested we wrap it up. I noticed it was almost eleven o'clock and I had to be at work in the morning. The whole time he was driving me home, he gushed about what a great time he'd had. He asked if we could become regular play partners and I said of course. When he dropped me off in front of my house, I asked him to text me to let me know he got home alright. His text again said how much fun he'd had and he hoped I'd had as much fun as he had. Imagine my surprise when I got home from work the next day and read his message to me on Fetlife. In it, he said he had been disappointed in our session, that he had wanted someone who would get naked with him and I hadn't done that. I did go down to bra and thong though. And on a first date, which is unusual for me. I wrote him back, telling him that he had gushed about what a great time he'd had and that if me not getting naked was a dealbreaker he should have said. Then he back pedalled and told me that it was "too soon" after his wife's death for him to be seeing another woman. She had been dead for five years and it was too soon to have a play date with a woman? A play date he had suggested? His first message put the blame for his so-called disappointment squarely on me. Then when I called him on it, he changed his story. He did respond to my second message, but then he blocked me so I couldn't write him back. It was a shame because I really thought he had potential as a top.

I had all of March to lick my wounds because there was nothing else to do. Then, later that month, someone I used to play with regularly (but who I hadn't even seen or even heard from for almost a year) contacted me. He called me pretty much out of the blue and asked me if I wanted to get together. His plan was for me to come and spend the night, where I would sleep in the guest room. He promised ,me a hard spanking and dinner in a nice restaurant. I knew he was someone whose interest in the scene came and went depending on things that were happening in his life, so I wasted no time in checking my work schedule to let him know what night would work. We settled for April 1st, which was a Friday. I had to work until eight and had the next day off, so the plan was that he would come pick me up at work. I took a change of clothes and my make up bag with me. I spent the whole shift thinking about how much fun it was going to be. We'd gotten together the previous summer (after I hadn't seen or heard from him in four years) and it was obvious that his stamina wasn't what it once had been (when he could spank both me and my sister multiple times) and also that our chemistry wasn't as good as it had been. Anyway, I hoped things would go better this time. At eight o'clock, I clocked out and went into the bathroom to change and put my make up on. I hurried because he was the kind of person who was usually early and I didn't want him to have to wait for me. When I went outside, I expected to see his car out front waiting for me. But he wasn't there. Immediately, I was concerned because in all the time I'd known him (about thirteen years by this time), he'd never once been late. It was something he prided himself on and admired in others. I texted him, asking if he was on his way and I got no response. Knowing that he was as prompt about returning texts as he was about being on time, I called him. It went straight to his voicemail. I left a message asking him if everything was OK, expecting an apologetic phone call to follow. But he never called me. It was now almost 8:30 and it slowly dawned on me that I had been stood up. Maybe his phone call hadn't been as out of the blue as I'd thought. Maybe this was an April Fool's joke. I called a cab and, while I waited for it, walked several stores down to a Chinese place I liked and ordered some food. I waited for him to call me, but he never did and I haven't heard from him since. I have a long standing rule that any man who stands me up goes in to the Permanent Asshole File and there they stay, never to have another chance to do the same thing again.

I bring up these three play dates (well, two actually) to make a point. This is what I'm reduced to. It used to be that playing with me (or my sister, or both of us if you were lucky) was somewhat a matter of pride. It raised that person's stock, so to speak. I had a very good reputation in the scene and thought it would always be that way. But how times change. Playing in a room with no sheets on the bed with a guy who clearly just wants sex and having another one lie about how much he enjoyed our time together and blaming it initially on me...this is what I've been reduced to. There was one other play date, with a man who is obviously very busy. We had dinner one night and then about a week later we met and played. It was a great time, but he has put me off for five weeks now. I'm off Monday this week (he likes to meet early in the week) and I messaged him but I haven't heard back. I really don't know what to make of this situation. I kind of feel like I'm getting the brush off. If he didn't enjoy his time with me, then why didn't he just say so? You know, honesty is something I value highly, both in myself and in others. It broke my heart to consign a long time friend to the Permanent Asshole File. I never thought I'd ever have to do that to such a long standing partner. And the guy that just wanted to have sex, well I don't want to sound arrogant, but I think that's somewhat beneath me. It was just very tawdry. It felt like a night in a cheap motel. Not up to my usual standards at all. And I don't want to lower those standards just to get spanked. I won't compromise myself just to get spanked either. So I guess the time has come for me to do some soul searching. How much longer do I want to go on subjecting myself to these kinds of scenes? I may have fallen a few rungs down the ladder, but I still have my dignity. Do I want to continue scraping the bottom of the barrel? Or should I go on, metaphorically kissing those frogs until a prince shows up? 

Since I've decided to make this an honest and objective look at my kink life lately, I'm going to come clean and say that I really haven't been trying that hard to meet new people. If I think back on all the play dates I've had over the years, I have to say that I almost never made the first move. Those guys all reached out to me first. So maybe, just like at spanking parties, I will have to make the first move from now on.I'm not quite ready to give up entirely. So please stay tuned. Something interesting might happen.

Is Fat The New Skinny?

The answer is, of course, no. The title of my post today is a rhetorical question. Now, I have several points I want to make, but it's going to take me some time to get there, so I hope you'll bear with me.

I was on Youtube today looking at fashion haul videos (which I won't define because I can't believe there's a person on the planet who doesn't know what a haul video is) because I want to see what the trends are and also because I like seeing what other people buy. Anyway, one of my favorite clothing stores is Torrid, a fashion-forward plus size store that caters to bigger women who want to wear pretty clothes. I'm definitely one of those, although Torrid does feature some clothing that's simply too youthful for me to be wearing. So it stands to reason that the ladies doing Torrid hauls on Youtube are also bigger girls. Some of them are very, very big girls that make me look average sized. One of them is a young lady who works for an adult website. She made a video addressing the "concern trolls" who seem to be all over the comments sections of her videos. Concern trolling, for those who don't know, is a kind of subtle fat shaming where the person feigns concern for a fat person's health. I've seen and experienced concern trolls on Fetlife, too and it almost always angers me. "I'm just telling you that you're fat and fat is unhealthy." Well, OK I already knew that so what was the point of telling me? The answer you usually get to this question is along the lines of "I'm just very concerned and worried about your health." Why? I'm a total stranger to you. If this person was a friend or family member, I wouldn't consider them a troll. But a total stranger lecturing me on my BMI or a random person dropping a similar comment on a Fetlife photo of me? Yes, that's considered trolling, especially since we all know how much trolls like a reaction. 

She also addressed the folks who believe she won't be able to "get a man" or be happy until she loses some weight. She used an example of someone who said "Well, I may not have my dream job or have a perfect life, but at least I'm not as fat as she is." This seems to be saying that, as long as you're skinny, you won't be considered a loser at life, even if your life is a complete mess. But if you're fat, you can have a fun job doing what you love, surround yourself with loving and supportive people and be fulfilled in every way, but if you're fat, you MUST be unhappy because you can't wear a macro bikini like a Victoria's Secret model. If your happiness depends solely on what the scale says, then yes, I would say you will be unhappy unless you lose weight. These are the people the so-called diet industry targets. If you're one of those people that labors under the delusion that only skinny people are happy and all of us "fatties" are miserable, then I would like to ask you to perform this quick experiment. The next time you go to the grocery store to buy your organic tofu and zero carb water, pay attention to the magazines as you're waiting in the check out line. Look at all those beautiful people and then read about all the misery in their lives. Case in point: Jennifer Aniston. She's considered one of the most beautiful women on the planet and yet her romantic woes are well documented. She can't seem to keep her men from cheating on her. If looks were all it took to "get a man", then women like Jennifer Aniston should have it made, right? But no. It seems like every time one of the tabloids announces that Jennifer has found happiness at last, within a few months, there's a tearful photo of Jennifer minus her ring with the caption "It's over!" But there are many women that society would deem fat who have long, happy marriages and fulfilling lives without being able to pass for a model. Statistics tell us that the average American woman still (years after the aerobics craze and liposuction craze and now the cleansing craze) wears a size 14. So could it be that there's more going on here than mere aesthetics? Without throwing out blanket statements, I feel pretty safe in saying that most of the skinny women in Hollywood are neurotics who probably view every other actress as a potential rival for a part in a movie or for a man. I'm not saying there aren't happy, well-adjusted women living in Hollywood, but well, they seem to be few and far between. Living in the Tinseltown goldfish bowl just doesn't seem conducive to it. The tabloid articles always make it seem like we're supposed to feel sorry every time some model or actress gets dumped by her bad boy boyfriend. Poor Jennifer. Dumped again. And yet, the fat girls that society detests are told to "cover up" or keep out of sight so that they won't be subjected to our fat. Or could it be that they don't want to be subjected to our happiness? Think about it. Because we don't fit society's definition of beauty and because no good-looking man worth his salt would be seen with us, there's really no pressure on us to conform. We're freer to be who we really are. And yes, I know that fat women are often reduced to dating fat men, but let me tell you some of those fat men are an awful lot of fun to be around. 

I know there are probably going to be PC folks reading this who will think to themselves that I shouldn't be using descriptors like "fat" or "skinny". That's just completely wrong. Well, I AM fat and I don't have a problem saying it. I do dislike the word "skinny" but I think if someones bones are sticking out, then they're skinny. I was a very skinny kid. I was skin and bones and not much else. So I've been on both sides of the weight fence. When I was a young woman wearing a size 12 I thought I was fat. I look at photos of myself back then and I wish I looked like that again. Then I remember that I was an unhappy alcoholic who abused pain meds and I rethink that. I guess what I'm really trying to say is that thin doesn't equal happy. I know many thin women who struggle with depression, body image, self-hate and other serious issues. The fact that there are people out there who wish we would just remain invisible and stay home so they don't have to be disturbed by our fat just makes me feel sad for them. I blogged some years ago about my thin and beautiful friend, Amy whom I went to high school with. I mentioned that she often spent Saturday nights at home alone because she had ridiculously high standards when it came to the boys she would date, while I and the rest of our circle of friends went out and had fun. Now, you have to understand that Amy would rather have sat alone at home than date the boys that I and my other friends dated. She considered them rejects. A couple of years after we graduated, I ran into her by chance getting on a bus (I blogged about this too). She had a child with the man she was living with. I could tell she was ashamed for me to see her with her used stroller and the shiner she sported. She was living with an abusive man in a trailer without a phone. I discovered this when I asked if I could  call her sometime. Now, at this time, I was going to junior college and dating a young man who was studying to be an architect. I couldn't help thinking how the tables had turned. I always felt like a shaggy dog next to her. I hated being photographed with her because her radiant smile and lovely face ensured that no one else in the photo would be noticed. I considered myself plain and still do. I'm just not a beauty. And I'm finally OK with that.

Despite not being a beauty, I have always been girly. I love clothes, make up, shoes and all the things that come with being female. I have blogged about that, too. But it's that love of all things girly that makes me watch other peoples' haul videos. It's not just a good place to look at pretty clothes though. I think it's a pretty good place to get some perspective.