tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30937595955845732182024-03-06T11:59:47.302-08:00Positively SpankingWelcome to my blog. It's positively all about spanking! I'm not a fiction writer. These are my real, actual thoughts and experiences. Happy reading!Cherylhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10092104839626502119noreply@blogger.comBlogger176125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3093759595584573218.post-60909047333403008332020-11-22T01:04:00.000-08:002020-11-22T01:04:13.175-08:00Unity? Yeah, Sure<span style="font-family: arial;">Remember the night of the election in 2016? Remember as soon as the results were announced, the melting snowflake videos started going viral on Facebook and Twitter. That night, the fires and broken windows started and they've never really stopped. Trump, from the moment he was called as President, got the poison pens of every Democrat and Never-Trump pundit out there. He was called every vulgar name in the book and nothing was too nasty to say about him or his family. The supposed grown-ups in the House and Senate began talking about impeachment as soon as the election was over. Nineteen minutes after the election was over, <i>The New York Post</i> posted an article that mentioned impeachment. Nineteen minutes. The "not my President" movement started that night. </span><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">For the next four years, the Democrats and RINOs spent every waking moment bashing the President. Wherever they could hurt him, they did (even when it hurt American citizens). Who can forget late night "comedian" Bill Maher hoping that the Trump election would trigger a recession that would crash the economy. Can you imagine someone cheering for a recession just to hurt the President? </span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">In May, New York's Shakespeare in the Park was held. It was a free performance in Central Park which ran for a month that summer. The play chosen was "Julius Caesar". But this was no classic depiction of the play. The play was modernized and Caesar bore a strange resemblance to the President. People sat in the stifling New York heat to get to Act III, where Caesar is stabbed to death by members of his Senate. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_LJpxlZkgSb336mrZ1Q0Enm7L-uGRvp1nDnaF0SdXBdRleNR1uWOQ3fY6_0XBdu-0VntCLIbf2Ifrhb14klG7duOcvnqcKbXzdaLCyslZXrb2Gl2LCxMz4k9NoBElF9owG-nJb-IbeQmL/s2048/Julius+Caesar-Trump.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_LJpxlZkgSb336mrZ1Q0Enm7L-uGRvp1nDnaF0SdXBdRleNR1uWOQ3fY6_0XBdu-0VntCLIbf2Ifrhb14klG7duOcvnqcKbXzdaLCyslZXrb2Gl2LCxMz4k9NoBElF9owG-nJb-IbeQmL/s320/Julius+Caesar-Trump.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /> </span></div><div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">The murder scene was a bloodbath. The actor selected to play Caesar was "House of Cards" actor Gregg Henry. People stood and cheered as he died. It was, to put it mildly, horrific. People were participating in wish fulfillment. If only someone would stab the President to death. The threats happened daily. Madonna at the Women's March (the day after Trump's inauguration) saying how much she dreamed of "blowing up the White House". The disgusting play was still showing when, on June 14th (coincidentally, Trump's birthday) the Republican team was practicing for the Annual Baseball game when a deranged Bernie Sanders supporter opened fire and shot Senate Whip Steve Scalice, nearly killing him. A witness said the shooter asked him if those were Republicans or Democrats on the field. When the witness said "Republicans" the shooter shot Scalise and tried to shoot others. Only the DC police department and the park police where the practice was happening were the only ones who kept it from becoming a blood bath for real. The Republicans lost a good man in Congress and, by all accounts, a damn good third baseman. Kathy Griffin, a D-grade comedian, did a weird photo op, where she posed with a mock-up of President Trump's head. The blowback by conservatives was massive. Despite this, the only bad thing that happened to her was she was replaced on her gig on CNN's New Year's Eve special. That's all. Of course, she apologized, but she played herself as the victim. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">Now, after spending four years beating Republicans and conservatives like the proverbial redheaded stepchild, the Democrats are asking for unity. This is rich. Where was their "unity" when the President was told he would not be allowed to give his State Of The Union address from the floor the House, where it has been routinely delivered for more than a hundred years? House Speaker Nancy Pelosi has been incredibly vicious in her open hatred of the President and her refusal to work with him, even on a Corona Virus stimulus package to help cash strapped Americans hit hard by the lockdowns. In 2018, he signed the hated Omnibus Spending Bill. He signed it for only one reason: in order for the military to be funded. At the time, some of our enemies were engaging in sabre rattling in order to test the new President and Trump wanted to make sure we were covered. Obama had decimated the military during his time in office and right before he left for good, he approved another huge cut to the military budget. Our combat preparedness was in question because of this and Trump really had no choice but to sign the bill. He promised the people at a televised presser that he would never sign another bill like that one. And he has been true to his word. All he asked for on the Corona Stimulus Bill was a stand-alone bill to help hurting Americans. But the Democrats wanted amnesty for illegals and other pork in the bill and Trump refused to sign it. There was no "unity" in any of the acts the House made during Trump's four years. During his impeachment hearings, Democrats on the House Judiciary Committee held a virtual Star Chamber, where they met with witnesses in secret and Republicans on the committee were barred from attending. During the open hearings, Democrat chair Jerry Nadler repeatedly told witnesses they did not have to answer questions from Republicans. This impeachment sham further split the country in two. The House knew they did not have the 60 required votes to remove him from office. Nancy Pelosi had her own bit of political theater by having gold pens made up for the occasion. Yes, that was very unifying. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">Now, because the Democrats believe they have won the White House, they want us to obey them for the good of the country...because it will bring unity. But the Democrats don't want unity. What they want is submission. The same group of people whose plan from the first day Trump took office was too keep him so busy with investigations and lawsuits that he wouldn't have time to implement the agenda he ran on are the same ones who want our cooperation now. Even as they announce re-education camps for Trump supporters and threaten us with Reconciliation Committees, they drum the unity message into us. Of course, the election hasn't yet been decided. I wonder, if the election goes Trump's way and he's re-elected, will the people now calling for unity agree to their own demands? No, of course not. They will riot and loot and burn everything in sight. They will, once again, refuse to cooperate with the "illegitimate" president. Sure, the AP called the election for Biden. But the media doesn't call elections. They make projections. And they can project that Biden won all they want, while ignoring the massive voter fraud that occurred right under America's nose. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">Strange, these Democrats. Nancy Pelosi rips up a copy of President Trump's State of the Union address right there on nationwide television and yet she says Trump behaves childishly. Joe Biden is right there on video bragging about how he withheld over a billion dollars in foreign aid money to Ukraine until a prosecutor looking into the company his son sat on the board of was fired, yet they accuse Trump of a quid pro quo for a phone call with a newly elected head of state in Ukraine. They are guilty of everything they accuse the President of doing. It's a classic Alinsky tactic---"Accuse the other side of that which you are actually doing." And all the while, the Democrats pretend that their corruption doesn't exist. They are as pure as the driven snow and love this country and the Constitution. They accuse Trump of "trampling the Constitution" while Democrat governors impose unconstitutional lockdowns on American citizens which overstep their enumerated powers. For three years, they discussed nothing but the Russia collusion hoax, stating every day there was irrefutable evidence of the President's guilt but when presented with signed affidavits and other concrete evidence of massive voter fraud, say Republicans haven't presented any evidence. In the end, the Mueller Report, which was supposed to be the nail in the illegitimate President's coffin, turned out to be a big nothing burger. It became obvious as he testified before Congress that Mueller didn't even write the report. The Democrats spent three years and used nineteen liberal bulldog lawyers to go after him and they never came up with anything. The people who later testified at Trump's impeachment hearing never even witnessed the phone call. They would go on CNN and say "Oh yes, we have all the evidence we need to take down the President" and then, when under oath, all they could manage was "I never said that" or "I was not present when that was discussed." There's a big difference telling Don Lemon all about your rock solid evidence and testifying to the same in front of Congress. When you're on MSNBC or CNN, you can say any stupid thing you want to. The court of public opinion doesn't require an airtight case. However, lying to Congress is a crime and a serious one. And, in the end, all the "we have irrefutable evidence" hucksters had nothing to say. And they wonder why the country is so divided. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">So no. I think I'll decline the Democrats call for "unity". </span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div></div>Cherylhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10092104839626502119noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3093759595584573218.post-37149431025553257872020-11-07T12:30:00.001-08:002020-11-07T12:30:49.252-08:00Outrage Junkies<p><span style="font-family: arial;">Is it my imagination, or does it seem like liberals are addicted to outrage? At least, they seem that way since President Trump was elected. I admit, I never blogged much about politics before (this was a spanking blog, after all) so I never had the chance to write about all the times something the President did or said or wore triggered the liberals into spasms of faux outrage. Even before he was ever elected or got the nomination, the liberals in the media just couldn't stand his behavior. Something a normal person would have passed off with a laugh or maybe just a "not a good look, Donald" in passing the liberal media spent hours reporting on. Little things like Trump not buttoning his suitcoat sent them scurrying to "experts" to report on why a man running for president doesn't know how to wear a suit properly; like they didn't know that Trump has spent most of his adult life in suits. He knows perfectly well that a gentleman is supposed to button the top button of a single breasted suitcoat. The man has been around elite snobs all his life. He knows which fork to use and that food plates are passed to the left. I'm pretty sure he knows that the top button gets buttoned. But maybe he was in a hurry and forgot? Or maybe, like most heavyset people, he finds it uncomfortable? Whatever the reason, the liberal media had a field day with it. It was probably at this point that Trump realized he could get the liberal media's goat just about any time he wanted to.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Or how about the way he drinks water? Or the fact that he drinks water at all? The press seemed obsessed with the President's consumption of eatables. During a speech, the President stopped to take a drink from a bottle of water he had handy. The liberal press went ballistic. "The President is not allowed to drink water during speeches because he once made fun of Marco Rubio for doing the same thing! He's a hypocrite if he drinks water during a speech!" Actually, that's not what happened. The President made a rather funny and immature comment on the campaign trail because Rubio didn't just drink from a bottle of water while he remained at the podium. He had to practically walk out of camera range to retrieve a bottle he kept on a little table about five feet away. It looked unprofessional. Rubio has given hundreds of speeches during his time in public life. He knows what looks bad. Whatever the reason, instead of focusing on why Rubio didn't have a bottle of water sitting next to him, they chose to focus on the fact that Trump commented on it. Later, after he had been elected President, Trump was giving a speech somewhere (I forget now) and had a bottle of Fuji water with him. When he went to drink from it, he used (<i>gasp</i>) both hands to hold it. The liberal media went bonkers. Why would a strong, healthy man like Trump need both hands to hold a simple bottle of water? The media began to spread rumors that perhaps the President had the beginning stages of MS or a tremor of some sort. But they forgot to mention that Fuji water comes in square bottles, which are hard to hold. I have scanned them at the supermarket where I work and they have slipped right out of my hand. They are just not made for human hands. If you went to the Facebook pages of liberal pundits or Hollywood stars, they would post silly stuff like "Guess who else drank water? Hitler!" </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">They also questioned why a 70-year-old man might need to use the handrail when getting off an airplane on a windy day. I remember repeatedly seeing footage of Trump deplaning Air Force One using the handrail and the liberal media speculating on the President's fear of heights or of falling. They deliberately ran side-by-side footage of President Trump coming carefully down the steps and then-President Obama jogging down the steps. First of all, Obama was 25 years younger than Trump. Maybe he hasn't seen the footage of President Ford slipping and falling while getting of a plane (the incident that Chevy Chase used to get laughs on SNL for a year)? I hate to tell the folks over at CNN, but most 70-year-olds ARE afraid of falling. They're afraid of breaking a hip and losing their mobility and independence. Using a handrail while getting off a plane on a windy day is not as "highly unusual" as you all believe.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Remember how outraged the media was when, a week after the election, Trump took his family out for a steak dinner and didn't mention it to them? They were apoplectic with rage. One liberal media pundit (I forget who but it could have been Brian Williams, the valor stealer) said with a straight face that part of the media's job is to protect the President. Yes, he said that and so did others. Perhaps you people aren't aware that the president, even when his name is Trump, gets a Secret Service detail? So they aired their outrage by reporting (also with a straight face) that the President enjoys his steaks well done and with ketchup on it. And also, they apparently liked to keep tabs on how many scoops of ice cream he had after dinner and whether he got chocolate sauce while his guests had to make do with plain ice cream. You had to have been on another planet to have missed that bit of hard hitting reporting. They also turned into concern trolls over how many Diet Cokes the president was drinking every day. How are the President's eating habits even newsworthy? There were other things to report on.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Oh, and the President has small hands. Yes, that one got big laughs during the campaign the first time one of his opponents brought it up. Instead of getting defensive, Trump held up a hand at a campaign rally and announced "Look at that hand! Is that a small hand or what?" The press lost its mind. It was at this point where I got the idea that, no matter how Trump reacted to a situation, in the press's eyes it was going to be wrong. The truth is that, for a man who's 6'3", his hands are pretty small. But I never got the memo that, to be President, you had to have big hands. Surely, as small as his hands are, they're still bigger than Hillary's. I never heard anyone say anything about the size of HER hands. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">The outrage machine continued on unabated after the election. If anything, it got worse. Now the President's family was fair game, too. His older daughter, Ivanka's choice of a pink dress to attend an employment summit was derided as "too girly" and they accused the First Daughter of setting women back a hundred years. Yes, they said that over a pink dress. Or what about the time the President's youngest son, Barron was seen with a fidget spinner? The media began to speculate (meanly) that the 11-year-old must be autistic or have ADHD. Never mind that fidget spinners were a fad among young people at the time. Then there is the endless commentary about the First Lady's shoes. Everything from "Trump forces her to wear them" to "she wears those shoes to feel superior" was parroted by the liberal media. When she joined the President on a trip to Houston to inspect hurricane damage, the boarded Air Force One wearing her signature Loubaton's. The media scolded the First Lady, saying that those shoes were a bad choice for visiting poor people who had just had their city flattened by a hurricane. When she deplaned, she was wearing sneakers. But, again, the media had to have an opinion on that, too. Indeed, the First Lady's clothing has always been the subject of much media poison. I don't remember them every saying anything about the way Michelle Obama dressed when she was First Lady and many of her outfits were disasters. Melania Trump always looks elegant and chic and crisp in whatever she wears. As a former fashion model, she has a very good grasp of what looks good on her. Then there was Donald Jr's well-reported divorce from his wife, Vanessa. While Trump Jr and his ex-wife tried to shield their five children from the media glare, it was impossible. The media was at least partly to blame for the break up, in my opinion. The way the liberal media constantly hammered the entire family would have been enough to make anyone throw up their hands and say "I can't stand it anymore!" Even Tiffany, who grew up on the west coast following Trump's divorce from her mother, Marla Maples, wasn't spared. She didn't know her father that well, but did attend her father's alma mater, the University of Pennsylvania, before heading off to (and graduating from) Georgetown law school. She had joined him on the campaign trail and got to know him better. Because she had been part of the plot to elect the outsider, she was fair game. Her weight and the way she spoke were all scrutinized. They called her "chunky" when there was nothing wrong with her weight. She looks like any other healthy young woman. But when it came to the women of the Trump family, the media saved its most hurtful barbs for the First Lady. Her accent was mocked, despite the fact that liberals claim to be for immigrants. Gidi Hadim famously mocked her on an award show and the video of it went viral. Many said she could not speak proper English, despite the fact that Melania speaks five languages, including French, fluently. She always showed beauty, grace and elegance on the world stage. She has made her point when she's needed to, however. When the late Peter Fonda said that Barron (then only ten years old) should be locked in a cage with a pedophile, she followed her husband's lead and responded on Twitter. In her own gentle yet forceful way, she let Peter Fonda know how she felt about his comments. Then the press slammed her for defending her minor child, which any normal parent would do. When some liberal talking head testified at her husband's impeachment hearing and tried to make a joke at Barron's expense, saying "Trump can name his child Barron, but he can't make him one", she again responded. She had been the one to name him Barron, not his father. Barron was a name she liked. Trump had wanted to name him Joseph. The liberal talking head (whose name has escaped me) made an apology, but it rang hollow as most apologies from liberals do.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">The President got busy presidenting right after his inauguration. One of the first things he started doing was cutting back on the regulations that were strangulating small businesses. He cut two for every new one that was made. He understood that some regulation was necessary. But the ones instigated by the Obama administration had been punitive, intended to put small businesses out of business. Obama had been in the habit of picking winners and loser throughout his presidency. Since he hated middle America and the average citizens who ran bakeries, bars and boutiques out in Flyover Country, he took every pain to take them down. They weren't real people to him. Just nasty Tea Baggers (as the liberal media often referred to Tea Party members). The liberal press howled that Trump was deliberately attempting to undo Obama's legacy. Obama's legacy was great for foreigners, but very bad for actual Americans. The disastrous NAFTA agreement had shipped millions of American jobs overseas or to Mexico. In case no one knows this, NAFTA stands for National Free Trade Agreement. But there was nothing fair about it when it came to the way it favored foreign interests and penalized American workers. Signed during the Clinton administration, succeeding Presidents had chances to dismantle it, but chose not to. But Trump, ever the no-nonsense businessman, knew these deals were bad for us. He got right to work on a new trade deal, which included Mexico and Canada. It was much more fair to us. We never knew that Canada had placed a 200% tariff on dairy products we shipped to Canada. Trump took care of that. Justin Trudeau howled in protest, but he signed the new deal nevertheless, perhaps sensing that this President was cut from different cloth than Obama had been. Once that was done, he got us out of that horrible Paris Climate Accord. This was supposed to encourage participating countries to lower their emissions and shrink their carbon footprint over time. But when it was read, only America was held to the high standard. China and India, the two largest polluters on the planet, would each get a ten year buffer period, where their emissions could increase before they were held to the same standard as the US. Now, the air in China is filthy, as anyone who has been there can attest. The people walk around in face masks because the air is unbreathable. In fact, China's air is so dirty that fully one-third of the air pollution in San Francisco comes from China. China wants the profits from a manufacturing economy, but unlike other countries (including the US), they have made no effort to clean up their air. The liberal press, of course, spun the story that Trump wanted everyone to breathe dirty air and drink filthy water. They went on daily diatribes about how the earth wouldn't survive four years with Trump at the helm. Meanwhile, date began to trickle out about just how much America had lowered its emissions and shrunk its carbon footprint without having to be in any kind of climate agreement. Businesses were making the necessary changes voluntarily because Trump had given them the means to. "What?!" the liberal media shrieked, "the people will do things on their own without a mandate from the government? How is this possible?" Because most Americans want clean air and water. They just don't want government telling them how to do it. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">If the liberal media was chagrined about Trump pulling the US out of the Paris Climate Accords and doing away with NAFTA, they went completely off their rockers when he began respectful negotiations with North Korea to end their missile testing policies. Trump, ironically, was doing more than any peacenick to broker peace between North and South Korea. He was also vowing to bring our soldiers home from the pointless Iraq war. He said in one of the debates with Hillary that we should never have been in Iraq, that it was a pointless war. If he was disliked before, he was hated now by the Left. The Iraq war was sacred. You weren't allowed to criticize that. Then someone found some old footage from an appearance Trump made in 2002 on "The Howard Stern Show" where he said he would favor a strike on Iraq if we ever made it. "Ha!" the media crowed, "Here's proof that Trump is a hypocrite!" Actually, it was simply proof that, in almost fifteen years of seeing our soldiers blown to smithereens in a war for which there was no real goal, Trump had changed his view on the Iraq war. Many people did, they were just too afraid to say so. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Trump, in many ways, went out of his way to trigger the liberals and their lapdogs in the media. He would say things or do things that he knew they would explode over and then laugh at how dumb they were. Trump never went to Harvard or Yale. He was considered by the media to be uncouth and uneducated (despite a degree in finance from the Wharton School of Business). Sure, he'd had some failures. Name one businessman who hasn't. But where Trump really shined, not only as a businessman but as President, was his willingness to take risks. America was used to Presidents who talked a good game, but were actually Casper Milquetoasts when it came to action. Trump, like most businessmen, likes to win. That in itself made liberals uncomfortable. When he first announced his intention to run for President, he was asked if he thought he could win, to which he replied "I'm not in it to lose, that's for sure." What was this? A president who wanted to win? Liberals acted like this was all new to them. Hillary Clinton had callously and deliberately undercut her only rival for the Democrat nomination, Bernie Sanders and the liberal media didn't even mew about it. But Trump taking a risk by asking the black community "What the hell do you have lose?" by voting for him, made them lose their minds. Every liberal pundit of color went on TV or took to Twitter to lambaste the Republican nominee as a "racist" who preyed on the fear blacks had of the White Man. It would have been laughable if it hadn't been so sad. Trump had received awards from Jesse Jackson and others for his "tireless efforts on behalf of the black community". Now, as an outsider President, he was a vicious racist and white supremacist. One of his first acts as President was to issue a pardon to nineteenth century boxer Jack Johnson, a man who had been accused of ugly crimes against white women and who had served time in jail for them. The President's pardon of a man who had been a victim of the racism of his time was seen as "pandering", yet Hillary's comments to a black radio host about keeping hot sauce in her purse wasn't. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">I guess since the Democrats have probably succeeded in ousting Trump from office (something they have been trying to do since Day One) I guess they are going to get the last laugh. Now, we should do what the Democrats did to Trump. We should open spurious and expensive investigations on Biden and his family. We should call his every decision into question; that is, until Kamala Harris is inserted as de facto president. I'm going to look back on the Trump years as some of the best years America ever enjoyed. If Biden can get the GDP anywhere near 33% it will be a miracle. But that won't happen. They will go on being outraged, yet demand that conservatives and Republicans act civilly. The sad part is that we probably will. Like the English schoolboy of 70 years ago who shakes the hand of the prefect who just caned him, we will go back to making nice with them, thinking it will make the next four years easier for us. But believe me, the outrage junkies have no intention of making anything easier for us. It's very sad that our country, once described by President Reagan as a shining city on a hill, has been reduced to a Third World banana republic--a place who counts the votes is more important than who voted.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p>Cherylhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10092104839626502119noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3093759595584573218.post-48929926182139185292020-11-04T15:06:00.000-08:002020-11-04T15:06:38.659-08:00On Elections<p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b>Author's Note:</b></span></p><p> <span style="font-family: arial;">Since this is my blog, and I have pretty much retired from the spanking scene, this blog will now be used to air my thoughts and opinions on the news of the day, the foibles of the human race, my own spiritual journey and the occasional blog about food or fashion. For all of those who enjoyed "Positively Spanking" over the years, I can't thank you enough for your support and for just taking the time to read the musings of one person in the scene. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">I have now lost all faith in the electoral process. I'm afraid that, no matter who is elected President, we will never have free and fair elections again. Ever. If Joe Biden wins, the liberal Democrats in power will do what they have been threatening to do since Trump was elected. They will get rid of the Electoral College. They will pack the Supreme Court with activist judges who will make law from the bench, as they are wont to do. They will weaponize government agencies like the IRS, FBI and DHS to investigate and punish those who disagreed with them. They will enact the Green New Deal, which will place us many trillions of dollars more into debt and will pretty much end life as we knew it in America. They will have virtual power in perpetuity. Republicans never win another national election. Ever. All this genuflecting is not for the betterment or benefit of the American people. No, it's to ensure that they remain in power. The peaceful transition of power that elections were supposed to be about is over. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">If Trump wins, the liberal Democrats will continue call his presidency into question. They will open spurious and expensive investigations into Trump, his family, his friends and those with whom he does business. They will block, delay or obstruct any new piece of legislation he tries to pass, just as they have done for four years. They will make another costly attempt to impeach him over some imagined wrong. It will never end.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">They can say that Biden will be President all they want. But everyone knows the truth. If Biden is declared the winner, then Kamala Harris will be the de facto President and she will pick a suitably progressive person as her Vice President. Joe will be put out to pasture like a racehorse who can't win anymore. America right now, needs a tough, hardnosed take-no-prisoners leader who will stand up to our enemies. It's hard for me to imagine frail, feeble Joe taking a hard line with China or Russia or North Korea. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Biden's corruption has been totally ignored by the press, the liberal pundits and by Democrat voters. If Donald Trump, Jr had done half the things Hunter Biden has done, the press would be reporting on it nonstop and asking Trump to step down as President. Democrats told us repeatedly that "decency is on the ballot". What's decent about a man who allowed his position as Vice President to be sold to foreign powers in order to enrich himself and his family? What's decent about a man who covers up his son's troublesome behavior, including crack usage, sex with underage girls, taking millions of dollars for a job he knows nothing about? What's decent about a man who told a worker in a hardhat "I don't work for you!" when, as a public servant, he most certainly does? What's decent about a man who has spent 47 years in politics accomplishing nothing but seeing to his own bottom line? What's decent about a man who has made so many racist comments that one can only assume he's a racist? And while we're on the subject, what's decent about a woman who got where she is based solely on her improper sexual relationship with a powerful man? When Trump was running for President, his sexual past was scrutinized. No stone was left unturned. It got so bad that a porn star's creepy lawyer became a media sensation. The Democrats were so against Trump that when it came time to name a new Supreme Court justice, they found a mentally fragile woman and fabricated a sexual assault that never happened. Never mind there was no actual evidence and the so-called victim could not remember any of the pertinent facts of the case. The #metoo movement was ready to publicly crucify him simply because he was Trump's pick. He had served with the apparent blessings of both parties on the Appellate Court. But as soon as he became Trump's pick, his entire life was picked apart. Never mind that he had already been investigated by the FBI on six other occasions. Never mind that Dianne Feinstein made what was supposed to be a private letter from the so-called victim public because she wanted a media circus. His yearbooks and calendars were scrutinized. Kavanaugh was forced, in front of his wife and parents to speak about his sexual past, up to and including publicly admitting that he did not lose his virginity until he got married. These are the people who are ignoring the Biden's sexual improprieties; whether it be Joe's propensity for sniffing and fondling women and children or Hunter's relationship with his brother's widow or his impregnating a stripper and refusing to pay child support until dragged into court. They are the same ones who clutched their pearls and got the vapors when the <i>Access Hollywood </i>tape was released. They give a pass to a video of Hunter Biden snorting cocaine off the ass of an underage girl, but a billionaire playboy talking candidly about what women will allow rich men to do to them is too scandalous for words. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">No matter what happens, I will persevere. I will get up and go to work tomorrow like any other day. I will stay right here and be an American because that is my birthright. I will know, like many others do, that a hardworking, courageous man was cheated out of what was rightfully his. Perhaps, God has a reason for this. Perhaps, when we get on the other side of this, something even better awaits us. I made it through eight years of Obama. I can make it through this. One thing is for sure. You won't see conservatives out in the street burning and looting and attacking people, though some may take to the streets in frustration. There is no way this election was on the level. Trump had overwhelming support in every city he campaigned. The Democrat governors of the Democrat cities he campaigned in made special rules to try to limit the number of people who could attend. They said he had to hold his rallies outdoors so he picked the largest areas he could find---airports. The sight of Air Force One gliding onto the runway amid thousands of screaming supporters will live on in my memory. The boat rallies and car rallies that were organized when Trump wasn't even going to be there was further testimony to the support he enjoyed. You will never convince me this election was on the up and up. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">I pray for President Trump and his family and for Vice President Pence and his family. I pray that somehow, Trump will prevail and justice will be done. If Biden is elected, the investigations into the Russia collusion hoax and the Biden corruption and Hillary's pay to play schemes will be swept under the rug. Attorney General William Barr will be fired, of course, along with many others. Press Secretary Kayleigh MacEneny will probably get a network job. I'm sure all the liberals will be happy. Until their rents go up. And their gas prices go up. And the cost of groceries goes up. Then, somehow, it will still be Trump's fault. Because to them, everything is. As for me, I'll continue to be the same happy warrior I've always been. </span></p>Cherylhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10092104839626502119noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3093759595584573218.post-1597094055987256062020-05-28T14:12:00.002-07:002020-05-28T14:12:54.376-07:00Getting On With Life<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Author's Note: This post is very political. I'm a conservative and not ashamed of that fact. If this bothers you, find something else to read.</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I know I should have posted this when this whole mess started. I meant to. But somehow, I never had the time or my head wasn't in the right place. But today, with a sprained ankle keeping me home from work, I think it's time to give my take on this whole Covid-19 thing.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It seems like I can hardly remember a time when this wasn't an issue, yet it's only been a few months. Like most other people, when I heard that a "new" virus was among us, I paid little attention. One flu was the same as another to me. Then the powers-that-be decided that all "non-essential" businesses be closed down for 15 days in order to contain the virus and "flatten the curve". OK, 15 days didn't sound unreasonable, given that this was something out of the ordinary. Better to be safe than sorry. Then 15 days turned into one month, then two months, then three months. In the meantime, the store where I work (and every other store) experienced shortages on toilet paper and hand sanitizer. Panic purchasing was rampant. Then, once the "non-essential" businesses were closed and people were forced into their homes, I had to have a special paper saying that I was considered an essential worker and please allow me to pass. This made me very uncomfortable. I'm an American citizen and I had to have a piece of paper saying I could be out of my house. It sounded a bit Third Reichish to me. I have still not been stopped by any police on my way to work.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But I went to work everyday. We weren't told to wear masks or gloves or anything of that sort. Not in the beginning. The focus was on getting the store stocked (with what little we could get) and cleaned up. We shortened our hours from six a.m. to midnight to seven a.m. to nine. People hated the inconvenience of the shorter hours and the fact that in several aisles, our shelves were bare. As a front end worker, I and my fellow front end workers took the brunt of customer's anger and frustration. "When are you gonna get some *&$%$# toilet paper in this place?!" was something I heard dozens of times a day. We had had to place limits on water, some fresh meat products and paper products (when we could get them). Customers just found ways to get around the limitations. Then, we suspended returns and exchanges at the service desk. Unless you got sour milk or spoiled meat, we weren't taking it back. Then we barred reusable grocery bags and put up plexi-glass at every register. About six weeks into the lock down, we were told that masks were required. About two weeks after that, we learned that we would have to have our temperatures taken before beginning our shifts. By that time, I was fed up. I was already starting to hear that the virus wasn't as bad as it was being made out to be. That the models were off or wrong or deliberately misleading. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Then we got the horrifying news about what this lock down was doing to our economy; the $22 trillion economy President Trump had worked so hard to achieve. And then I began to put two and two together. As I watched the liberal media and Democrat politicians gleefully announce how bad the job numbers were and how many people had filed for unemployment and how many small businesses were being forced to close permanently, it dawned on me what the whole purpose of this pandemic was. Mostly, it was to tank the economy in an election year and hopefully, keep Trump from being re-elected. They had already tried everything else---Russian collusion, obstruction of justice, quid pr quo, even impeachment---and Trump was still president. Trump was at a rally when he got word that he'd been impeached. But everyone, whether Republican or Democrat, knew that Congress didn't have the votes necessary to remove him from office. So the plan began to change from getting him out of office to sabotaging his re-election chances. China was more than happy to help since they were pissed off about the tariffs Trump had enacted, which had hurt their economy. Former Chicago mayor Rahm Emmanuel once famously said "Never let a crisis go to waste." So with this advice in mind, the people who wanted to see Trump humiliated and removed from office (a group that included a lot of Republicans, too) contrived together to let this virus infect the whole world. They allowed the Chinese to lie about the fact that the the virus was a "novel" virus (meaning it affected only animals) that could not be spread among humans. They allowed the Chinese to withhold the genome sequencing of the virus, thereby delaying the US and other countries from getting meaningful testing underway, while at the same time they let hundreds of thousands of Chinese nationals fly all over, unchecked and untested. All the while this is happening, the President has already gotten his task force together. At the same time, the Democrats, who led House committees and subcommittees (many of whom had oversight), were choosing to focus on impeaching Trump rather than the potential damage the virus could do. When Trump announced the travel ban in late January, a move that probably saved countless lives, his reward was to be called a racist by the liberal media and by Democrats in both houses of Congress. While the President was trying to get a handle on the situation, House Speaker Nancy Pelosi was telling people in California not to listen to his "fear mongering" and to come on out to Chinatown for the new year's celebrations. In New York, Governor Cuomo did likewise. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Now once President Trump unveiled his task force, the first order of business for the liberal media was to say it wasn't "diverse" enough. In other words, there were too many white people. I remember saying on Facebook that if I were assembling a pandemic task force, I wouldn't care about their skin color. I would want a group of eggheads who've never been on a date. But of course, to the liberal media, everything is about race. Most of us, in the beginning, believed that the models we were being shown concerning the number of people who would likely die from this virus were accurate. We wanted to believe that we were getting the truth from the media. Turns out, neither was the case. Both sides, the liberal media and the task force doctors, had an agenda. When President Trump said he would have the Navy hospital ship Comfort in New York Harbor by the weekend, MSNBC's Rachel Maddow called it poppycock. She said on the air "it ain't gonna happen." That Saturday, when the Comfort steamed into the harbor, she had had to eat her words. Whatever the President said he would do, he did. Of course, the liberal media was spouting their garbage that it couldn't possibly get done that fast. But they forgot who they were dealing with---a businessman who knew how to get things done. Everything he attempted to do was met by the press with derision and scoffing. He had acted in haste. He had acted too slowly. He did too much. He didn't do enough. No matter what he did, no matter how good the result, no matter how much it helped peopled, it was wrong. It was right about this time that I began to suspect that things were not as they appeared.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The press has always felt it had the power to influence us. Hollywood feels much the same and they're right. It was the press who fanned the flames of hysteria that caused the famous toilet paper and sanitizer shortages. It was the press who, at the President's daily press conferences, asked accusatory "gotcha" questions in hopes of getting a sound bite they could play on their evening news shows. When the President would answer their questions, they accused him of "hogging the stage". When he didn't know the answer to a question and deferred to one of his experts, they accused him of not knowing what was going on. When he famously made a few aside comments about research he'd heard about using sunlight and disinfectants injected directly into the bloodstream, the press said he had told people to drink bleach. It was in this atmosphere that I began to see with my own eyes that the liberal media was playing much too big a role in this drama. They weren't giving us information. Not useful information, anyway. They were fomenting panic and enjoying it while they were doing it. It was about this time that the experts began to contradict themselves. Yes, a lock down was necessary. No, a lock down will hurt us more than the virus. Masks must be worn when out and about. No, the masks are useless. Thousands of hospital beds went unused. In the meantime, people who had been scheduled for "elective" surgeries were cancelled because the whole of the medical world was going to be needed to combat the virus. When that didn't happen, when it became obvious that the field hospitals and hospital ships weren't going to be needed, people with open minds began to question. Why aren't we re-opening? The government had declared grocery stores, Walmart, Home Depot, Lowe's, and other places that provide needed services as essential, while restaurants, nail salons, beauty parlors and bars were told to stay closed. Worse yet, while Planned Parenthood was allowed to stay open (remember those folks who had their elective surgeries canceled) and pot shops and gay dungeons were allowed to stay open, during Holy Week, churches and synagogues were told to close. Visiting your favorite glory hole was consider essential, but worshipping on Easter wasn't. For many, this was the last straw.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Those of us who know the Constitution began to see the capriciousness of the closings. As defiant (and desperate) people began to push back, governors of blue states doubled down on their power trips. Chicago mayor Lori Lightfoot (who had gotten a haircut during the lock down when other people had to go without) issued a warning that churches that defied the order to stay closed would risk being closed permanently or being destroyed as a public health hazard. When a Mississippi pastor was arrested and his parishoners ticketed for holding a drive-in service, where people listened to the sermon from their cars with their windows rolled up, I had seen for myself that the heavy handedness was reserved for Christians and Jews. During the Muslim holy day of Ramadan, Governor Cuomo announced that he would supply 400,000 free meals. He made no such offer to Christians during Easter or Jews during Passover. The anti-Christian bias was laid bare for all to see and yet, the liberal media saw no problem with it. After all, they hate God. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Now because I work in a grocery store, I have worked continuously during the lock down. I feel very fortunate that I have been able to continue making a living while others have been forced to apply for unemployment. Supply is catching up to demand and many states are re-opening in phases, Illinois among them. But...the economy, the one President Trump rightfully crowed about, is in shambles. His enemies have done what collusion accusations couldn't do, what quid pro quo lies couldn't do, what impeachment couldn't do---hurt Trump by killing the economy he was so just proud of. Most of the liberals in media and in Congress are socialists, after all and this booming economy wasn't what they wanted. They didn't want this blatant proof of how good capitalism really is for everyone. They wanted us cowering in our homes; scared, poor, hungry. Waiting on the government for a handout. But many people, patriots and liberals alike, began to see that this was not how they wished to live. Their businesses were failing and many were having trouble feeding their families. They needed to get back to work. The liberal press, as always, was their to spin this. When President Trump announced plans to re-open the economy, socialist Representative Alexandria Ocasio Cortez, pounded her fists, saying people should not be forced to go back to work. Forced? Does she not understand that most Americans WANT to work? That the businesses they had spent their whole lives building were in danger of staying closed forever if not re-opened soon? </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">While Americans could see that the virus was losing its potency and dying out, the liberal media continued to announce doom and gloom. They said, if we re-opened businesses, there would be a brand new outbreak. People who went to stores without masks were kicked out. People who protested at their respective state houses were called selfish for wanting to get businesses re-opened. They were told they didn't care about life. Please. When you advocate for killing babies in the womb, don't talk to me about how much you value life. Sane people began to argue "Look, if you're afraid and want to stay indoors, do that. But don't expect me to live in fear with you." </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Which brings me to the title of my post. I think it's way past time to get on with life. I'm all for precautions when necessary. But when the experts are now saying openly that they were wrong about the impact this virus would have, I think it's time to put the masks away and stop the social distancing nonsense (which the experts also now tell us didn't have much impact on the virus either). I'm not sure who to attribute this quote to, but it's true:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Fear doesn't stop death. It stops life."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It's not the government's job to safeguard my health. That's my job. There will always be new strains of viruses coming out. When the Hong Kong flu pandemic hit in 1969, we didn't close down the economy and force everyone to stay home. No, we held Woodstock. There are still those who insist we need to stay locked down until a vaccine is available. The people most pushing for this scenario stand to make money off the new vaccine. Bill Gates all of a sudden thinks he's a medical expert. Bill Gates is a globalist who wants to bring down the population and vaccine and chip those that remain. He's the same guy, as head of Microsoft, deliberately put viruses in his software and then offered his customers anti-virus software. This is all about money for him, which is why he's acting with the WHO and the CDC and George Soros and others who want a global government, where the US gives up her sovereignty. I know there are socialists right here on American soil who hope for that with fond anticipation. But I also know that there are patriots; people who want America to stay free and where the government stays out of people's way as much as possible. What this ultimately comes down to is this: will our government listen to us and remember who they work for? Or will they continue to ignore us and do what they want? Time will tell.</span>Cherylhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10092104839626502119noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3093759595584573218.post-28688966531848410832020-02-05T20:48:00.002-08:002020-02-09T20:35:07.015-08:00Forty Years Is A Long Time (Or My 80's Experience)<div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b>Author's Note: This entry could get pretty long. So, if you have a mind to read this whole thing to the end, I suggest you grab a snack or a cold drink. You might be here a while.</b></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span><br />
<div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">
<div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
On New Year's Eve, I celebrated my 59th birthday quietly at home. I spent quite a bit of time reflecting on many things--school, the jobs I've had, the men I've loved, getting saved, and other things of note that have happened to me. Normally, I'm not a very introspective person. I don't spend a lot of time thinking about why I do things. I might have saved myself a lot of grief if I had changed that policy years ago, but there you have it. This blog post is going to be an attempt to commemorate or, at least, discuss a specific time in my life.</span><br />
<div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Most people, once they reach a certain age and maturity, spend time reminiscing or taking trips down memory lane or whatever you want to call it. I believe the reason for this is because once you hit about 50 you realize that more of your life is behind you than ahead of you. During these trips down memory lane, one is apt to find oneself picking their favorite decade. Most of us would choose our 20's because we're still young enough to enjoy things and old enough to do them legally now. I turned 20 on December 31, 1980 so I would say that my favorite decade was the 80's. Now, I've seen a lot of documentaries about the 80's, mostly made by people who weren't even born then. They mention things like Reaganomics, the Rubik's cube, New Coke, MTV, Trivial Pursuit and all the other obvious things. But you just get the feeling they really don't have an emotional connection to the era. I do. I happen to love the 80's. I loved everything about it--the fashions, the music, the films. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Now, in the interest of full disclosure, I should mention that I was a pretty shallow person at that time. I was young, full of myself and thought I was indestructible. I had no illusions that I was pretty or anything. Oh, I was what my father used to call a "handsome" woman, but I knew I'd never be in a music video. I was working as a dishwasher at the local Denny's and making my own money. So, I used it for what I wanted to buy. I bought mostly clothes, jewelry and records. I had always loved music. In May, 1982 we finally got MTV. It had gone on the air officially on August 1, 1981 but Peoria didn't get it until the following year. The first time I saw it, I was babysitting for my sister-in-law's sister. I was flipping through the channels (having sent the kids to their rooms because of a fight over a game of Frogger) when I landed on something strange. It was a group of guys singing the lyrics to a song. Now I knew videos existed. I had seen The Beatles' videos for "Penny Lane" and "Hello, Goodbye". And I'd seen other artists attempts at videos. But this was a new group. So new I'd never heard of them before. The first thing I noticed (besides the fact that they were wearing make up) was that they were really young. The second thing I noticed was that this song had a bass groove that was infectious. It was like all those disco songs we shook our booties to in the 70's, but cool and modern because of the synthesizer. The song, I learned, was called "Planet Earth" and it was by a group called Duran Duran. Hmmmm...interesting name, I thought. The music was unlike anything I had heard before. And the way the young men in this five-piece ensemble were dressed was interesting as well. </span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1YDYX9CKDIn-zPSolhMfW-nF-H-sgFKkXacAP0OGMaSwT01J7ipvPNtsWvMxV7WD5unMcDR_mjI_8VQ7N7dnXgAwsYwZpWrQQnGJ2TldvndZpus0jV8ZnxbZwiX8k7NzunqOxLSmWyZ-d/s1600/Young+Durans2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="433" data-original-width="768" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1YDYX9CKDIn-zPSolhMfW-nF-H-sgFKkXacAP0OGMaSwT01J7ipvPNtsWvMxV7WD5unMcDR_mjI_8VQ7N7dnXgAwsYwZpWrQQnGJ2TldvndZpus0jV8ZnxbZwiX8k7NzunqOxLSmWyZ-d/s320/Young+Durans2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">My first response was that they looked slightly effeminate. I had them pegged as British because I knew all the American bands. I had been listening to John Cougar Mellencamp, The Cars, Tom Petty And The Heartbreakers, Aldo Nova and other favorites for a while. These guys were a different breed of cat altogether. I was so taken with the image of these young men that I called my sister and told her to turn on MTV. She didn't know we had it so I had to tell her how to find the channel. She came back to the phone, sounding unimpressed. "A bunch of fags, so what?" she said. "You don't think the sound is cool?" I asked. "The drummer's kinda cute," she said, nonchalantly. This was long before the age of Google or the internet so I had no way to find out who these guys were. Lucky for me, I had a pen pal at the time who lived in Canada and I mentioned seeing the video for "Planet Earth" and wondered if she knew anything about them. Oh, did she ever! I still have the letter she sent me back introducing me to these lads. However, the ink on the letter has faded and I would not be able to make it readable here so I'm going to write what she wrote verbatim:</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"Yes, I know this group pretty well. They come from Birmingham, England. They toured with Blondie last year and "Planet Earth" is from their first album. Their second LP "RIO" should be out soon. Here are the names of the guys--</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Simon LeBon--lead vocals</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Nick Rhodes (nee Bates)--keyboards and synthesizer</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Andy Taylor--lead guitar</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">John Taylor (nee Nigel)--bass</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Roger Taylor--drums</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Their roots were in the punk/New Wave movement. They actually belong to the punk offshoot called New Romantics. It's all about fashion and making music you can dance to. I saw them live and they're great musicians and singers. The coolest thing about them is that none of the guys named Taylor are related."</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">She then went on to tell me about a vacation she had taken in New York City. And that was that. I wasn't a teenager anymore, screaming over the Bay City Rollers. This was a more mature infatuation. I soon honed in on John Taylor as my favorite member. I remember thinking he was hot. Now, mind you, I had only seen their videos. I had never actually heard them speak or anything. But I figured since they were on the cutting edge, I ought to try to mimic their "look". It was all about looking as young and as chic as possible. God knows, I tried. But I was on a limited budget. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx2StdrSA3wCY6hHL9Jx4NdCPYG9PnuzOtSzIJEJjUAH4OqDVQl5PYRUxMsWGgiUdVnUiRuWx1Ymhfl9ACyX72BGvJNl-rGSTRob7plQ3xmqWatcaCtaR5IpcKz3t_PTGPCLJsxkGUKFxP/s1600/IMG_3370+%25282%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1201" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx2StdrSA3wCY6hHL9Jx4NdCPYG9PnuzOtSzIJEJjUAH4OqDVQl5PYRUxMsWGgiUdVnUiRuWx1Ymhfl9ACyX72BGvJNl-rGSTRob7plQ3xmqWatcaCtaR5IpcKz3t_PTGPCLJsxkGUKFxP/s320/IMG_3370+%25282%2529.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">It wasn't just about the clothes though. The hair and make up had to be right, too. You can barely see the headband I'm wearing, but you can see the blue and red stripes hanging down my neck. My top, which was the first thing I ever bought in real silk, is red with small blue polka dots. I thought the headband would go nice with the whole look. Then I had a friend take me down to the park and take some pictures of me. I wasn't sure what I planned to do with these pictures, except keep them and laugh over them someday when I was married and had kids. I'm looking at some of these photos for the first time in over 30 years. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I was a clothes horse, absolutely, which is why clothes were a huge part of my 80's experience. But they weren't the only part. I did actually solve a Rubik's cube. It took me parts of two days to do it. In those days, the little squares were actually colored. Nowadays, you can take the colored stickers off and put all the colors on one side and say you solved it. But there was no cheating then. No YouTube tutorials on how to solve them. You just had to <i>gasp </i>figure it out. But that was the fun of it. Instant gratification was not a thing in 1981. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1HBXlSKv36qio39AAxBW15FgqKGRVisVf3oOC7LpkGD1L0uc7PvW9Cc5JrD2E-vL-nE3As0MvuA0qD0jwkhDRWxo_UciAYBt5codxwkbOc6YpqtWAjaa7OTdpWgNE95Sr_AIBFDaRKZJw/s1600/Rubik%2527s+Cube.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="1000" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1HBXlSKv36qio39AAxBW15FgqKGRVisVf3oOC7LpkGD1L0uc7PvW9Cc5JrD2E-vL-nE3As0MvuA0qD0jwkhDRWxo_UciAYBt5codxwkbOc6YpqtWAjaa7OTdpWgNE95Sr_AIBFDaRKZJw/s320/Rubik%2527s+Cube.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I said before that clothing was a huge part of my 80's experience and that was true. I think I'll just post some selected photos here and explain what they are. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGcz5Ps2ZP7IQFKE0XN_IHPMAY9cPgnqVGwSh_NBXk1KpXbEtBN4kLM0TPS5OAkWtRZ1iWF741IPpSHgTJ8OuhvAk266v39Jx688Uk2UtKimGmPay25VwHGAwtkYnWTdflL5CQxkdqzTLb/s1600/IMG_3373+%25282%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGcz5Ps2ZP7IQFKE0XN_IHPMAY9cPgnqVGwSh_NBXk1KpXbEtBN4kLM0TPS5OAkWtRZ1iWF741IPpSHgTJ8OuhvAk266v39Jx688Uk2UtKimGmPay25VwHGAwtkYnWTdflL5CQxkdqzTLb/s320/IMG_3373+%25282%2529.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Around 1983 or so, aspects of menswear, up to and including ties, began to show up in women's wear. But the idea was always to keep the colors muted and feminine (in the beginning). Later, shoulder pads made us all look like linebackers. Yes, that's a Nick Rhodes-inspired haircut. The black leather watchband is very much of the era, too. And of course, you had to be photographed with a cigarette if you really wanted to look sophisticated. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3QLKH6D6DGR4Hqc8jx0a70AaRBV9t7NxPXigU__JSCyc3klf4XLNeb3KIHtLgEw6tTEMOPG0gyPkpLb0Og1qxWudiRBtkloiGGBtgeRacdtFud_dEl1vLIWZJOvlC9HUcz6VuJoU-Fxkm/s1600/IMG_3372+%25282%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3QLKH6D6DGR4Hqc8jx0a70AaRBV9t7NxPXigU__JSCyc3klf4XLNeb3KIHtLgEw6tTEMOPG0gyPkpLb0Og1qxWudiRBtkloiGGBtgeRacdtFud_dEl1vLIWZJOvlC9HUcz6VuJoU-Fxkm/s320/IMG_3372+%25282%2529.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Later, around 1984 or so, something called "orange make up" started to appear. Women (and men who were so inclined) began to wear coppery colors on eyes, cheeks and lips. This was my version. My sister is decked out in more sensible pink tones. My hair, always evolving, looks very 80's here, straight at the back and curled on the top and sides. To achieve this look, you had to have a very good curling iron and industrial strength hairspray, either Aqua Net or Rave. I wish someone had told me that my shirt was unbuttoned. Otherwise, this would be a perfect snapshot of the 80's. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD3Nej6kSQG-mT-P75BCKZokntuuszh4WLpMpH1Y0N7N8_JP-3-qMiX4cNF8qwK725VOUK0V9fRaUCYWev6JbqUX0fUaX2dqz6ktf4ZIUdl3HJ3Q_0I8cLOJ6rQHg_qmQlTsLtXTdjQKxU/s1600/IMG_3386+%25282%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD3Nej6kSQG-mT-P75BCKZokntuuszh4WLpMpH1Y0N7N8_JP-3-qMiX4cNF8qwK725VOUK0V9fRaUCYWev6JbqUX0fUaX2dqz6ktf4ZIUdl3HJ3Q_0I8cLOJ6rQHg_qmQlTsLtXTdjQKxU/s320/IMG_3386+%25282%2529.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">This was taken in the Spring of 1983. I'm pretty sure it's at a banquet of some kind (probably bowling) due to the flowers on the table and the adult beverages. My hair was always changing. I think I had lightened it in the front by this time. No matter how hard I tried, my sister always managed to look better than I did. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT8RSj47QaSJ5xCfhjXoVQWW946lU2IIqBlM5xcYGCCHyRRCkDZt6ZkJA6cZ8jTUwqI6YsBqMIMoHkQkizFcGPz2DEwTD5kKOgMYta9goM80vbUioxwOaMxgDh0he-_pch8GttdXlFZVuz/s1600/IMG_3381+%25282%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT8RSj47QaSJ5xCfhjXoVQWW946lU2IIqBlM5xcYGCCHyRRCkDZt6ZkJA6cZ8jTUwqI6YsBqMIMoHkQkizFcGPz2DEwTD5kKOgMYta9goM80vbUioxwOaMxgDh0he-_pch8GttdXlFZVuz/s320/IMG_3381+%25282%2529.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I'm not sure if I was trying to be a vamp here or what, but I know for sure this was Thanksgiving, 1983. I was lucky in that I had great skin (due mostly to great genes I inherited from my mother) and so make up always looked great on me. The gray corduroys and gray argyle vest are probably not a good choice for vamping in, however.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZtL9vbyopO-HPLQlSd3wPKytPFr2pjcZhqgdSeFZyu4ItGpJjubbJyRam8r2fv1BR8cKyjj6OxnL1X8cmmcCHC5m5xrYX65S3FZdBYY4RcI51R0snoYUpHDsqAsXJ3houwPfVw5Re50on/s1600/IMG_3380+%25282%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZtL9vbyopO-HPLQlSd3wPKytPFr2pjcZhqgdSeFZyu4ItGpJjubbJyRam8r2fv1BR8cKyjj6OxnL1X8cmmcCHC5m5xrYX65S3FZdBYY4RcI51R0snoYUpHDsqAsXJ3houwPfVw5Re50on/s320/IMG_3380+%25282%2529.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I came late to the designer jean craze. I'm wearing dark gray Sasson's with pastel pinstripes and a pink boatneck top. I always thought wearing pink kept everything really girly. The mesh shoes are very 80's. I'm not sure what kind of look I was going for with that hairdo. It looks like I'm wearing one side loose and the other side pinned back. Anyway, these are the kind of jeans the phrase "painted on" was designed for. Carol, as always, looks way crisper and more comfortable than I do.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzP5_ApETNC-efa5jZSII0cuUgZJ1ygnMLUBit6cz6_WpVaLyoG3EEwtceWtlFHA1UD2EYA9hFvMIL2mSBBrzFmUDpe7MFNFEMcfbPZRBOmbfQmFMihyphenhyphenmKbL3oSuBQQRrKDMZlizvgZun0/s1600/IMG_3383+%25282%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzP5_ApETNC-efa5jZSII0cuUgZJ1ygnMLUBit6cz6_WpVaLyoG3EEwtceWtlFHA1UD2EYA9hFvMIL2mSBBrzFmUDpe7MFNFEMcfbPZRBOmbfQmFMihyphenhyphenmKbL3oSuBQQRrKDMZlizvgZun0/s320/IMG_3383+%25282%2529.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I believe this is the last birthday cake we ever got from Mom and Dad. I paid a small fortune for the meticulously razored hair and the printed top with standup collar. Carol must have been wearing her stack heeled boots as she looks way taller than me. After cake with the folks, it was off to the bars to celebrate. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Behind all the clothing errors and great music of this time, something very dark was happening. I was beginning to have my first bouts with depression and anxiety. I didn't tell anyone even though my mother was a nurse and would have been able to get me the proper help. I didn't tell anyone because I didn't want to be one of "those people". I didn't want my life to be going from one therapist to another and one drug to another, although I was beginning to self-medicate around 1984. I started with beer and pot, which I'd been smoking since the 70's and graduated to harder stuff, mostly vodka, bourbon and occasionally tabs of LSD provided by a friend I worked with. I tried so hard to make it look like I had myself together because I was always complaining about people who didn't. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_vsm2gUTuS29t9O8hK6g1wm14-zwNgPVrYuPWDj5d00MtHp7YArrGCN9-lefF8SKp6GwdUSqJi3kDS0ZGmuLpFky772Wn5ci1dq2BMQY_R_bpO4numqSF6r8bZ0twxmNM_bEJEd00s1v2/s1600/IMG_3391+%25282%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_vsm2gUTuS29t9O8hK6g1wm14-zwNgPVrYuPWDj5d00MtHp7YArrGCN9-lefF8SKp6GwdUSqJi3kDS0ZGmuLpFky772Wn5ci1dq2BMQY_R_bpO4numqSF6r8bZ0twxmNM_bEJEd00s1v2/s320/IMG_3391+%25282%2529.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">This was taken at the Heart Of Illinois Fair in July, 1986. This is just about the last photo from the 80's where I was still pretty happy. A year later, my mother was diagnosed with cancer and my world began to fall apart. The sailor top was out of style by this time, but I still wore it because I loved it. Pairing it with the two-toned denim cropped jeans kept it pretty much up-to-date. I slowly began to lose interest in the things I had been interested in before, a sure sign of depression. And the things I did still engage in I didn't get the same joy from. I think the most striking thing about this photo is how photogenic I was back then. I can't take a good photo now to save my life. Probably because my face is aging. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">From 1987 on, I was just trying to work and keep my relationship going. By that time, I was a full-blown alcoholic and I was in an abusive relationship. No matter how bad he treated me or how much I might have feared him, I feared being alone more. My mother began to drift away from us and was diagnosed with early onset dementia. She was only 53 at the time. So the shallow girl who only cared about clothes and make up had to grow up and fast. That same year, my condition became obvious to my sister and she begged me to get help. "You're with a guy who's beating you and you're drunk everyday to cope with it. Please see someone." Only the twin I loved more than my own life would have been able to get away with saying those words to me. But I had to admit she was right. So I made the decision to seek counseling. The first lady I went to, I will just say right now, was more bonkers than I was. I wanted to tell her my problems so she could help me and she wanted me to take enemas. Really. She said they were discovering that certain types, mostly caffeine, were good for people with depression. "You want me to put coffee up my ass?" I asked incredulously. "Not hot, obviously" she replied. "But caffeine is a stimulant and putting it in the rectum, with all those blood vessels, will get it right into your bloodstream." "You're a quack!" I said and left. It would be another two years before I sought another therapist. One thing I was really proud of was getting out of my abusive relationship. One day, Matt (not his real name just in case he's reading this) came home from work with groceries for a party we were going to be throwing a few nights later. I had asked him specifically not to do the grocery shopping because I was going to clean out the refrigerator the next day when I was off work. It turned into a knock down, drag out fight, during which our downstairs neighbors called the police because we were making such a racket. He broke my nose that night for the second time and managed to bruise a kidney. He liked to kidney punch me because the bruises didn't show when I was dressed. I also had various lacerations from hitting objects like tables and lamps while he slapped the snot out of me, all the while reminding me whose refrigerator it was. The doctor took photos in case I wanted to take Matt to court, but I can't look at them. They are way too graphic to post here. Needless to say, Matt went to jail that night. After they discharged me from the hospital, I got my friends to come help me pack my stuff. I was shocked to see that there was blood all over the apartment. Because of the bruised kidney, they had wanted to keep me overnight and run some tests in the morning. But I knew this was my only chance to leave him so I checked myself out AMA. I thought about moving back home, but my mother was ill and my father was recuperating from a heart attack. They didn't need the drama. So I moved into a shelter for a few weeks and thought about my options. At that time, there weren't a lot of resources for battered women. I already had a job so the only thing to do was to get my own place. I talked it over with some friends and we agreed to rent a duplex in a better part of town. It would be expensive, but worth it. It turned out to be the perfect arrangement. My friends, Doug and Connie, were really supportive and I felt safe there. When Matt got out of prison, he left town so I decided not to prosecute him. He moved back down to Kentucky. To this day, I don't know where he is. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">As safe and protected as I felt in this new home, I was still drinking. They had given me pain medication for my broken nose and I was abusing that. I would just call my family doctor and tell him I was still having pain and he would send in a prescription no questions asked. Bruised kidneys take a long time to heal, I discovered. My father was relieved that I had left Matt and even more relieved that he had skipped town. My experiences with Matt soured me on dating for a long time. Anyway, I wasn't really girlfriend material. I was working a low-paying job and abusing drugs and alcohol. But I want to say right now that I never went to work under the influence. Hung over, yes. But I was never lit at work. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">My interest in spanking was full-blown by this time. I had tried in vain to get men to spank me. I would even misbehave to get one. But it never happened. I remember like it was yesterday the first time Matt hit me. We were arguing about taking out the garbage and I said something flip to him. He jerked his head in my direction and looked at me, anger boiling in his eyes. I can still see his long brown hair whip around as he turned. Without a word, he raised his hand and slapped me so hard across the face he blacked my eye. My ears were ringing and I could barely hear. I was afraid he had injured the only good ear I had. But in a few seconds that cleared and I heard him say "Girl, I don't know what got into you but you better NEVER take that tone with me again. You hear me?" Shaking, I nodded. Then he went off to work, taking the garbage out with him. I had wanted him to take me over his knee and give me a loving, slightly stern spanking. Instead, he had made it so that I was trying to figure out how I was going to cover the ever darkening bruise on my eye. I began to believe I was never going to get the spanking I wanted. I had to wait many more years for that. If there had been a spanking scene in America at that time, I would still not have been able to participate. I was too immature and too emotionally damaged. The desire was there but there was no one to fulfill it. So, as with a lot of things I wanted to do in my life that didn't work out, I put it on the back burner and concentrated on helping my parents. Once my father had had his heart attack, it was obvious he wasn't going to be able to care for my mother by himself. Carol and I begged him to put her in a nursing home, but he refused. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The 80's ended on a bad note for me. When they began, there was so much promise there. But in late November, 1989 a friend I had known since childhood died in a car accident. What was really haunting about the whole thing was that she had come over to my place to show me her new car, a sporty black Camaro, just the day before the accident. Her mother told me that she had been driving fast with the radio blaring and wasn't paying attention to what was happening. A semi slowed down suddenly in front of her, obviously having car trouble, and before he could get off the road, she slammed into his back end. She wasn't wearing a seat belt and died instantly. She was married with a three-year-old son. All I could do was shake my head. Didn't she have any worries about what would happen to her driving like that? I was sad, angry and confused. So I did what I always did in those situations--I reached for a bottle. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Now, if you've read a certain other entry of mine, you'll know that I cleaned up and got saved in the 90's. So while there was a lot of pain and heartache in my 80's experience, I did have some good times. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><i>"What has happened to it all?</i></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><i>Crazy, some'd say</i></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><i>Where is the life I recognize?</i></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><i>Gone away.</i></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><i>But I won't cry for yesterday</i></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><i>There's an ordinary world</i></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><i>Somehow I have to find</i></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><i>And as I try to make my way</i></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><i>To the ordinary world</i></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><i>I will learn to survive."</i></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><i>"Ordinary World" </i></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><i>Duran Duran</i></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
Cherylhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10092104839626502119noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3093759595584573218.post-16448544009160379622019-07-06T14:35:00.002-07:002019-07-06T14:35:45.155-07:00Catching Up<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">While reading older blog posts, it dawned on me that it's been nearly a year since I posted anything here and that was just about my kidney stones. So, let me get anyone who might still be interested in what's going on with me up to date.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">About the kidney stones...I saw an amazing doctor who informed me of all the things that had been going on. First off, the surgery that had resulted in my being hospitalized had been unsuccessful. The first surgeon had been unable to get the scope high enough in my ureter to retrieve the fragments. Turns out, I had something called a stricture, which is a narrowing of the ureter and this is why he had been unable to advance the scope far enough. He had simply put in a stent and handed me off to this other doctor. Strictures are a pretty common side effect of kidney stones. What actually happened to me has a name---it's called "steinstrasse" (German for "street of stones") and it's where broken stone fragments line up behind each other and block the ureter. This is why my pain was so bad. The ureters are delicate structures and always working to move anything in them out. Experts believe that the pain response from a blocked ureter is the most extreme pain response the body can tolerate. Things like child birth, gunshot wounds and traumatic injuries are bad to be sure, but they believe that because the ureters are so delicate, the pain response is more acute. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This doctor showed me my CT and the KUB films that had been taken. My entire left kidney was white there were so many stones. All of them were too large to pass by themselves. He said "I can't get you on the schedule for surgery this week, but next Wednesday, you're having surgery." In his office, Wednesday was surgery day and as I was seeing him on a Monday, I had nine days to wait it out. He told me to call him for anything I might need, whether it was more pain meds or if my pain got worse. I asked him why hadn't the people in the ER given me anything when I was initially diagnosed and he said "Those people aren't urologists. They tell you that nothing is being blocked so you shouldn't have pain. They would just about rather die than give a patient pain meds." I told him how I had felt crazy because I was having both pain and nausea and I was told I shouldn't be having either. It effected my work. He told me to sit tight and he would take care of me. He was the only one who had taken my pain seriously. He told me to rest up for surgery and drink lots of water, which I was doing anyway. What else could I do? </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">On Wednesday, the 27th of September, my amazing and awesome cousin again agreed to drive me to the hospital. An hour before I was scheduled, the hospital called me and said they had had to cancel my surgery for that day because the laser they intended to use wasn't going to be available that day. Apparently, because those lasers are so expensive, Peoria only has one and both hospitals share it. My cousin, who lives in Pekin, was almost to my apartment when I called her and told her that my surgery had had to be cancelled. She asked if I wanted to have some breakfast. Well, heck yeah, I was starving. So she took me out to breakfast. They rescheduled me for six AM the next morning. My cousin and I had a lovely breakfast at Cracker Barrel and looked over some Christmas ornaments. The next morning, she was there at 5:00. I was scared and I told her so. We prayed in the car before going in. I got registered and then they took me back to prep me. I was given a gown, slippers and a shower cap to put on. Then the nurse came in and started my IV. The anesthesiologist came in to talk to me as well and to ask me some questions, particularly about my heart stent. The doctor came in after that and told me that all systems were go and that I was going to be rid of these stones. He later told me he had removed 21 stones from me. Some had been in the upper pole and some were in the mid-pole. A few were still stuck in the ureter, despite the stent. And a couple were in the pelvis, the meaty part of the kidney. They were just all over the place. He seemed confident he had gotten all of them, but he stopped short of proclaiming me stone free.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhovwTytlZLgGCMW_bYnE_rjg3qgG0gDkNWcHyAHEMfW0lWIbBiqYp-s9cjPQW5Y1zkOIusGK7XrA3LVOq1eHrFq27YAJO9fK_fX5LcaR2zj7WPOgTNF47lIwdav_pqvJ-325lUuqDaaGCh/s1600/IMG_3247+%25281%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhovwTytlZLgGCMW_bYnE_rjg3qgG0gDkNWcHyAHEMfW0lWIbBiqYp-s9cjPQW5Y1zkOIusGK7XrA3LVOq1eHrFq27YAJO9fK_fX5LcaR2zj7WPOgTNF47lIwdav_pqvJ-325lUuqDaaGCh/s320/IMG_3247+%25281%2529.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> This is what he was up against--a big ball of stones and fragments all bundled together at the proximal end of my left ureter. Yes, that red stuff is blood. The big blue thing is the stent from my previous unsuccessful surgery.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I had the surgery on Thursday, by Saturday I was starting to feel close to normal. I did the grocery shopping and stopped in to tell my boss that I had had my surgery and was just waiting on a follow up visit to let me know when I would be cleared to return to work. I returned the following Tuesday. Because the stent was still in place and caused irritation, I was put on short shifts for a while. It felt so good to go to work and to feel normal and useful again. Of course, it couldn't last. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The following Friday, I had the stent removed. Let me just tell you a bit about that procedure. For one thing, it's a good thing I'm not that modest. A nurse I was becoming fond of took me into the Procedure Room and told me to undress from the waste down. She left me alone while I did this. She gave me a sheet to put over myself. Then, when she returned, she had me lie down and open my legs "like a butterfly spreads its wings". She numbed my urethra with some Lidocaine (I assumed) and then we waited for the doctor to come in. Other than the topical, you get no anesthetic with this procedure. The doctor came in, gloved and gowned, and produced a cystoscope, a small flexible scope for looking in the bladder. My stent was something called a "JJ stent" or a "pigtail stent", which meant it had little curls at both ends to keep it in place (thought they have been known to shift or fall out completely). On the end that's in the bladder, there's a string attached to it which allows the doctor to grab the string and pull the stent out. I could watch the whole thing on a monitor right next to me. A lot of people on Youtube said that this procedure doesn't hurt. I want to know what they have been smoking. It hurt for sure. But it only lasted a few seconds. But a stinging or burning sensation followed the removal. It wasn't that bad. I went back to work and felt that this was all behind me now, except for a kidney function test he wanted me to have.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The following Monday, I made pot pies for dinner and went to bed early. I wasn't due in to work until 11:30, but I was tired. At 2:30 in the morning, I awoke in extreme pain. Once you have this kind of pain, you never forget it. Since it was the middle of the night, I opted to take an ambulance to the hospital. A CT scan confirmed a 5 mm stone at the UPJ (uretalpelvic junction). I was in tears. I had just had surgery less than three weeks previously. Surely, I could not have made a stone that large in such a short amount of time? They told me to see my surgeon for follow up and gave me papers to give to my boss. I was still in tears when I took the papers in to him. I apologized profusely for the inconvenience, but my boss said not to worry about it. Later that day, I saw my surgeon and he confirmed that he had more than likely missed a fragment. He told me the debris field where he had blasted all those stones had been pretty large and missing one is common. "You're having surgery tomorrow." He complimented me on my good attitude. "I'm determined to make lemonade" I told him. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So the next morning, my wonderful friend and sister in Christ took me to have yet another surgery (my fourth). It was quick and straightforward. The fragment was easily spotted now that the debris field had cleared (meaning I had peed out the sand-sized remnants).</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp2AFFIaMRLMcodGkXhZGgpZC3At0meWELnYaSmdUYOmQ_fHO_j-OT5aCqnQ9vA5geXyzBR_9p3xsJ9s8qwloc0hAD7cyOVyBWkwlQ8zu1bsRmkZK0TMlxpi3W2L34agxE6eGxrTL30kKI/s1600/IMG_3339.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp2AFFIaMRLMcodGkXhZGgpZC3At0meWELnYaSmdUYOmQ_fHO_j-OT5aCqnQ9vA5geXyzBR_9p3xsJ9s8qwloc0hAD7cyOVyBWkwlQ8zu1bsRmkZK0TMlxpi3W2L34agxE6eGxrTL30kKI/s320/IMG_3339.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">They gave me two cups of grape juice in the recovery room, which I quickly vomited. I had drunk them too fast, apparently but I was dying of thirst and it tasted so good. I went in on the following Wednesday and had the stent removed. I've been problem free since then. I drink mostly only water now, with the occasional soda. I'm working now on getting some of this excess weight off.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">On the scene front, things are getting a bit interesting. I have had a couple of very enjoyable play dates, one of which was with a man I had been wanting to meet for years. This stems not only from our love of spanking, but our mutual enjoyment of rectal temperatures. I like getting them and he likes giving them. We had a very nice time. I also have a few other fairly local tops interested in meeting me. It strikes me strange that this happened as soon as I left the party scene. It could be a coincidence or maybe not. Whatever the case, I'm determined to once again make lemonade. Stay tuned.</span>Cherylhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10092104839626502119noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3093759595584573218.post-63897275360146220852018-09-16T15:05:00.000-07:002018-09-16T15:05:00.209-07:00The Saga Of Roy<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Author's Note: This post as nothing whatsoever to do with spanking. I have pretty much left that scene, but have decided to keep this blog up and running for those times when I feel the need to post something, whether spanking-related or not. This post is about my ongoing health problems and the religious crisis it spawned in me. If this kind of thing is too real for you or you're just not interested, please find some of the other posts I've put up over the years.</b></span><div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">People will look at the title of this blog and scratch their heads. "Who the heck is Roy?" Well, allow me to elucidate. Roy was a guy I knew in high school. He didn't go to my school, but I met him at a basketball game my sophomore year when our schools played each other. Our "relationship" (if that's what you want to call it) started because I was dumb enough to give him my phone number. Now, don't mistake me here. I didn't have boys knocking my door down. I was pretty much OK with encouraging any boy who showed any kind of interest in me. Roy was taller than me (a requirement in my shallow days), nice looking and from a nice family. He should have been a total catch for me. I was not good looking. My family was a good one, but not well off like Roy's was. I was acutely aware that Roy had made an overture to someone who was below his station. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I was so glad that a boy was interested in me that I didn't see the imperfections in the facade he presented at first. I mistook his neediness as attentiveness. He needed to know all the time where I was and what I was doing. He had so little self-confidence that he needed a girl who was totally available to him. If I told him I couldn't go somewhere with him because I was going out with my family that night, he would pout and tell me that, since he was my "boyfriend" I should be the most important thing in my life. What? More important than my family? I didn't take me long to figure out that Roy wasn't the boy for me. I had been dazzled by his nice looks and attention. But...after about two months, I could hardly stand the sight of him. I babysat children who acted more mature than he was acting. It took me six months to extricate myself from this "relationship". When you're 15, six months is a long time. OK, so fast forward to now and why I've exorcised the ghost of a long lost boyfriend to make a simple analogy. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Starting about May, I started to feel a slight pain in my left lower back. It wasn't anything distressing at first. I work in a grocery store and I lift a lot of things. Maybe I strained my back? So I took some Aleve and put a heating pad on it and it seemed to go away. I went on about my life and didn't give it another thought. Two weeks later, right before I started my vacation, the pain came back. This time, I saw a little blood in my urine, too. But drinking extra water seemed to solve that. But the pain didn't go away with heat and Aleve this time. About a week after I got back from vacation, the pain got so bad I had to leave work. At this time, I made my first trip to the ER. I had my friend take me and we ended up waiting four hours just to be seen. When I was finally called, I was taken back to an exam room. There, the nurse started an IV and took blood and urine from me. This was before I ever saw a doctor. I have learned since then that this is SOP for Emergency Rooms. Doctors can learn a lot about us and our state of health by looking at our urine. When a doctor finally came back, he treated me a bit suspiciously. I could tell he thought I was drug seeking. I told him "Look, I haven't been to a doctor in five and a half years. I didn't just think at work 'Maybe I'll go the hospital and get some drugs. I don't feel like working tonight.' I left work because I'm in pain and I don't know what's causing it. I actually listen to my body when it tells me that something isn't right." I'd been in pain (cause unknown) for weeks and now the doctor in the ER was treating me like I was faking. He handed me off to another doctor, an intern who asked me questions about my sexual activity. "I'm 57-years-old," I told him. "I've had STD's before. This isn't an STD, unless they've come up with a new one I didn't know about." Meanwhile, I was describing my pain as "7 or 8 on a scale of 1 to 10" and they at no time offered me anything for pain. He felt around on my stomach, but there was no area I could point to that hurt specifically. I know from past experience that when a woman goes to the doctor with non-specific abdominal pain it's time to start the hand patting and the lectures about stress and getting my weight down. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I was frustrated, to put it mildly. I'd already waited four hours to be seen. Now they were playing a game of musical doctors on me. The last doctor who came in was the attending physician. He asked me questions about my fluid intake. He asked me about being dehydrated. After hearing my answers, he said "Cheryl, I suspect you have a kidney stone. I'm going to order a CT to see if you do have a stone." Finally, a doctor who believed me and wanted to get to the bottom of my symptoms. However, he still didn't offer me anything for pain. I had to drink a large bottle of contrast before they could do the CT. They left me alone for 45 minutes so I could drink the contrast. Of course, after drinking that much fluid, I had to go pee. So they let me pee before taking me to get the CT. I was scared because, as usual, a small part of me was afraid of what they might find. What if I had a tumor? What if it was already spreading? This is normal for me. When I don't have information, my brain plays out the worst case scenario. Even after the scan, while I was waiting to see what they found, I spent the time working myself up to the point where I was convinced I had cancer. An hour later, the doctor (the one who had ordered the CT) came in and told me "Cheryl, you have a kidney stone." I had to ask him which side it was on and he asked me to guess. I said "left side because that's where the pain is." He said "Well, it IS on your left side. But it's not blocking anything so you shouldn't be having pain." I replied "Well, I am. I've been having pain for almost a month. Tonight, I had to leave work because it got so bad." He took out my IV and handed me my discharge papers and said "Follow up with your regular doctor and remember to drink a lot of water." On following up with my doctor (or the PA in her office), I learned that my stone was 7 mm. A stone this size is considered too large to pass on its own. I also got started again on blood pressure medication. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So, armed with this new knowledge, I did the worst thing possible. I went online to see if I could get any kind of advice on how to deal with this. The doctors had told me that I shouldn't have pain, but here I was, having it. The only positive was that I was now drinking more water and less soda. I went on like this for two more months, until the beginning of August. The pain came back, even worse than before. I left work early three straight days. My bosses were very understanding. I went to the ER again, this time my directionally challenged sister braved the drive and took me. Again, they took blood and urine. My urine had blood in it this time (known medically as gross hematuria) and my pain was worse than last time. Again, the doctor wanted a CT, bu non-contrast this time. This was after the obligatory four-hour wait. After looking at my scan, the doctor I saw pronounced the stone "unchanged" based on a text from the radiologist who read my scan. "What's causing the pain then?" I asked. "It's non-obstructing so I really don't know." At this point, since this doctor admitted that she didn't know what was causing my pain, she would have consulted the urologist on-call or some other doctor. But she didn't. Again, I got nothing for my pain. I began to feel like I was going crazy. Again, I was told to follow up with my doctor. I had to suppress the urge to say "Yeah, thanks for nothing." I had to call in the next day because I was scheduled to be at work at 10:30 and I didn't get home from the hospital until 4:30. I spent most of the day not only in pain, but I was having anxiety too. The anxiety was from the gnawing feeling that perhaps my symptoms were psychosomatic. I went to work the next day, but again had to leave early. I asked my front end supervisor to take me off the schedule until I could figure out what was going on. I spoke honestly to my manager about what was going on, my frustration and fear of not knowing what was wrong. I told him that I wanted to go through proper channels and didn't want to put my job in jeopardy. He told me to do what I had to do and keep them in the loop.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My pain and anxiety worsened overnight, even after talking to my boss and his assurance that my job wasn't at risk (which I thought was where my anxiety was coming from). The next day, my sister took me to the local prompt care, which was located in the same office as my regular doctor. The nurse practitioner that I saw had given me more understanding than any of the doctors I'd seen. She looked at the report on my stone and told me, contrary to what I had been told in the ER, that it was now 1.1 cm. So why did that ER doctor tell me that it was "unchanged" when it was now 4 mm larger? She apologized for how badly I had been treated and got me a prescription for pain meds and also nausea meds, which can also be good for anxiety. She was the first one to tell me that large stones can and do cause pain, even when they're not blocking anything. "Those doctors never once acknowledged that I was in pain," I told her. "They never gave me anything for pain or nausea. They never told me anything I could do in the meantime." She nodded understandingly. "Kidney stones, especially large ones, are unpredictable. Large ones require treatment, whether they're in the ureter or not. ER doctors don't really like to be the ones to get that ball rolling. So they say to follow up with your doctor." So I at last had some pain meds and also something for the nausea that the pain brings with it. I was told to call my urologist. Since I didn't have one, I called the office of the only urologist I knew of--the one who did a cystoscopy on my in 2013. Unfortunately, he was booked solid until late September. It was early August. I couldn't wait that long. So I asked them if there was any place I could get in sooner. The lady on the other end of the phone gave me the name of a doctor who worked in another of their offices. I managed to get an appointment, but I had to wait nine days. I was disappointed to have to wait nine days, but compared to waiting six weeks, this was doable. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I wasn't too sure about driving to another city to see this urologist. I don't drive and so I'm always dependent on someone else for a ride. My friend (the same one who had taken me to the ER the first time) took me. The office was located in that city's local hospital, which had a park across the street. My friend took her granddaughter to the park to play while I saw the doctor. His waiting room was freezing. I had to wait a half hour after my appointed time because of some kind of thing that had come up. Well, I totally understood that. I know that surgeons sometimes have emergency cases. When I finally met the doctor, I liked him. He asked me questions about my symptoms and listened while I answered them. "Your stone is a very large stone, so it can't just sit there in your kidney. It could cause major problems down the road if it's not taken care of. It's only gonna get bigger if we ignore it." He told me about ESWL, extracorporeal shock wave lithotripsy. They would use shock waves to break the stone into much smaller fragments that can be passed easily, most times without too much discomfort. There was one requirement for me to have this done. My stone had to be viewable on an X-ray. This is because they use X-rays to help triangulate where the shock waves should hit the stone. So he had me get a KUB X-ray before I left. KUB stands for kidney, ureters and bladder. The film shows these structures clearly and, since most stones are calcium stones, they show up as well. I was told that, as soon as the doctor had seen my X-ray, I would be called. I had seen videos on Youtube where people had talked about their experiences with lithotripsy and a few had said it had failed on them because there was too much body fat between the stone and the shock waves. I assumed that if I was too fat to have the procedure, someone would have told me. Well, long story short, I had to call them nearly every day to see if the doctor had seen my X-ray. I had my appointment with the doctor on a Wednesday and it was the following Monday before I was given the word. My stone showed up on the KUB film so lithotripsy was scheduled for September 5. By that time, I had been in pain for three months. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">On the day my surgery was scheduled, I showed up to the hospital at 7:30 am. My cousin, my sweet, awesome cousin, took me. She knew that I would be having general anesthesia and would not be able to take myself home, even if I could drive. The nigh before, I had had to get myself ready. I wasn't allowed to have solid food past six o'clock. I could only have broth or clear liquid foods and nothing after midnight. I had to use a Dulcolax suppository that evening. In the old days, hospitals gave enemas before abdominal surgery. These days, I think that pre-surgery enemas have fallen out of favor. I do remember having one before my hysterectomy in 1993. I understand the need to not have a bunch of fecal matter sitting between the shock waves and my stone. I also had to take two Gas-X tablets at bedtime. I had to take a shower in antibacterial soap. So I bought some Dial soap for that. Of course, they also said no make up, no jewelry, no valuables bought with me, etc. I was nervous, as I always am before scheduled surgery. My last operation, getting my appendix out, had been an emergency so I hadn't had any time to be scared. The ER nurses and the anestheologist came to talk to me. I also saw my surgeon briefly. He gave me thumbs up and we were ready to roll. I'd heard that lithotripsy routinely takes about 45 minutes. When I finally woke up in the recovery room, I looked at the clock. It was about an hour and a half since I went into surgery. The nurse noted I was awake and looking around. "Hi, Cheryl. Honey, how are you feeling? How's your pain?" I managed to tell her I was in some pain and she had something (probably Fentanyl or Delaudid) pushed into my IV. I can remember times when, if you had general anesthesia, you would be staying overnight in the hospital. Now, because of advances, people can be sent home the same day. I woke up quickly. They gave me some juice and a packet of Teddy Grahams as a snack once they were sure I was awake enough. My cousin helped me get dressed. I was surprised that I had no nausea. I didn't even have any bruising at the site where the lithotripsy was done. I went home in minimal pain.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">That was NOT the case when I woke up from a nap that evening. The pain was the worst I could ever remember having. I'd had an internal bleed after my stent was placed that put me in the ICU that I didn't remember being that intense. I didn't remember my actual heart attack hurting this bad. I called my cousin and told her I had better go back to the hospital because I was going to die if I didn't. I made the decision to go to the hospital where I'd had my surgery rather than the one I had gone to the other times (the ones had been no help). It took her some time to get there and by the time she arrived, I was crying. Anyone who's familiar with me from the scene knows that I have an extremely high pain tolerance. But this was more than I could stand. By the time we pulled up to the Emergency entrance, I could hardly walk and my cousin had to get a wheelchair for me. As soon as they realized that I had had lithotripsy that morning, they seemed to know exactly what to do. The nurse started an IV and got pain medication into me quickly. I also got nausea meds. The doctor probably suspected what my problem was from the start. He ordered another CT scan, which showed two fragments stuck in my ureter. The doctor explained to me that this happens a lot with lithotripsy. There's really no way to predict when or why it will happen. So I asked him what do we do next? He said "Well, we're going to admit you at least overnight for observation. In the morning, we'll call your doctor and see what he wants to do."</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">They kept the pain meds coming while I waited to be admitted. My cousin, who had prayed with me and stayed by my side, decided to go home once they had made the decision to admit me. She knew I was in good hands. I had been in so much pain. Pain serves a purpose, to let you know that something isn't right. Once you discover what's causing it, it's no longer necessary to remain in pain. It was about 3:30 in the morning when I finally got up to a room. They continued to monitor my fluids because I couldn't have anything by mouth, not even ice chips, because the odds were good that I was looking at another surgery. It was in this atmosphere--after months of trying to get rid of this stone--that I decided to name it Roy, after the boyfriend I had spent months trying to get rid of. Don't ask me why, after all these years, Roy came to my mind. I was definitely drugged up on pain meds and probably not in my right mind. But I remembered what a pain he had been and how much effort it had taken to get him to leave me alone. Even after we'd "broken up", he continued to call me. There was no social media back then. Calling someone or going to their house was about the only way to talk to someone. This stubborn stone, that I had been dealing with for months, reminded me of that needy boyfriend who wouldn't go away. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">At about 7:30, my case manager came into my room to let me know I was going to have surgery at about noon. She smiled nicely and assured me that my surgeon was well aware of what had happened. A little while later, my surgeon came to see me. He told me he had been really pleased with how my lithotripsy had gone. He was really happy with how the stone had broken apart. But doctors really have no way of knowing if there are any large fragments that could be hanging around waiting to cause trouble later. I've heard that doctors often do a scan after lithotripsy to see if the patient is stone free (fragments, no matter how large, aren't considered stones). I was unsure if this had happened to me. But I began to doubt it. The stone fragments that had moved into my ureter and blocked it must have moved really fast. So he explained the procedure he was going to do that would remove the stone fragments and make me stone free. He warned me that a scope would be going up my ureter to get the fragments. "This is an invasive procedure and there are potential risks." So he outlined the risks without really telling me what he was actually going to do. So, for the second straight day, I was put under general anesthesia and the surgeon used a scope to grab the fragments. I also had to have a stent placed in my ureter. I was more afraid of this than the surgery because I had seen people on their Youtube videos tell about how uncomfortable they were. I woke up in the recovery room, again looking at the clock to see what time it was. "Cheryl, honey, come on. Wake up." It was the same nurse who's voice I'd heard the previous day. "Are you having any pain or nausea?" I nodded "yes" to both. She mercifully pushed pain and nausea meds through my IV. I'm always happy when the pain goes away. But I was starting to dislike the feeling of being drugged up. The drowsy, tired and foggy feeling was almost as bad as the pain. They got me back to my room and back into bed. They wanted me to get up and walk almost as soon as the anesthesia wore off. I was happy for the activity, but walking caused the stent to irritate my bladder. So then it was back to the pain meds. I hate hospitals. Let me clarify that. I don't hate that hospitals exist. I'm glad there's a place where people can get the care they need. What I hate about hospitals is when I actually have to be in one. They aren't good places to get rest. Someone is always coming into your room, whether you're trying to sleep or not. They need to draw blood or they need to get your vitals or they need to empty the garbage. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Throughout that day, I began to feel a little bit better. I was hoping I would be able to go home later, but it became apparent that I was going to have to stay another night. That depressed me a bit. I began to wonder if I was ever going to be back to normal again. Was there ever going to be a time where I acted like I used to? Had the pain meds completely made that impossible? Was my brain chemistry permanently altered? Once I got home, this feeling got worse. I was on so many drugs--tamsulosin (Flomax), hydrocodone, phenazopyridine (an orange dye that, when it enters the bladder in he urine, calms the muscles and makes that icky urgency go away), cipro, and my usual meds like Atenolol, which I take for my blood pressure. I started to feel so tired. I read the patient information on the Flomax and one of the side effects is drowsiness. I could hardly stay awake. I realize that I was healing up from surgery and that causes tiredness. So I guess what I was feeling was the normal side effects of the drugs and healing from surgery. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I see my new surgeon tomorrow. The doctor who did my two other procedures is moving (or already has moved) to Texas so all of his patients were handed off to other doctors. I hope I can have this stent out and get off these pain killers so I can start to have a clear head. I've increased my water, trying to flush the medication out. Hopefully, this will help. So the Saga of Roy isn't over yet. When I was calling to get an appointment with this new doctor, a nurse in the office told me I was going to have to have another procedure done in "four to six weeks". She didn't say what that procedure was. I just know I want to get back to work and put Roy behind me.</span></div>
Cherylhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10092104839626502119noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3093759595584573218.post-47402390834838623832017-11-30T22:06:00.001-08:002017-11-30T22:06:07.993-08:00Vanilla LifeFor most of the past year or so, I've been living a nearly totally vanilla life, something I had sworn in the past I would never do again. That's not to say that I haven't missed my scene friends and that don't miss all those wonderful spankings I've gotten over the years. But...it's been easier to do than I thought it would be. There are a number of reasons for this.<br />
<br />
First off, and most importantly, I moved out of the home of my brother-in-law. My sister finally got tired of his crap and left him. She said she found condoms in his pants pocket when she was doing his laundry. I've known for years that he was being unfaithful. But the situation got physical and we had to get out of there quickly. We live in a pretty nice two-bedroom apartment. My sister and my niece share the master bedroom and I have the smaller room to myself. We're a bit cramped, but it's worth it to be in a more peaceful environment. The irony, of course, is that now that I essentially have my own place and can host guests, there are no play dates in my future. At least, not the foreseeable future unless things change. Having some walls and a bed and furniture I can call my own is really important to me. I haven't had my own place since Carol and I lived in our apartment and that's been almost ten years ago now. I have essentially lived with people since then. My sister, niece and I live quietly, comfortably and happily here. I don't have to worry about petty people messing with me. I have my own router now so no one can turn it off and deny me Internet access. My brother-in-law did this all the time. The router was in his room and he would often turn it off and then lock his door while he was at work. He used to do the same thing with the phone (this was before I had my cell phone). He would turn off both at the same time if he really wanted to mess with me. He did this in 2013 while I was recuperating from having my appendix out. He knew I was home every day and he also knew I would get lonely and feel isolated. He did this because that's how he got his kicks. I'm sure he went about his work with a smile on his face knowing how miserable I was. Once I moved back from Chicago, his behavior toward me improved for a while. But later, once I had a job and couldn't do the things I had done before (such as doing the dishes and other cleaning), he went back to treating me bad. Oh, he wasn't messing withp one anymore or the router (at least, he did it only occasionally), but he made it known that he didn't like me being there. The move was a nightmare. We were only allowed in the house when he was there and that was only on the weekends. My sister and I don't get many days off together, so what should have taken a few days, turned into months. Neither her husband or her son helped us move anything. We had to do everything ourselves. My good friend sold me some furniture she had for $150.00. It consisted of a couch (the kind that recline on the ends), a chair with a matching ottoman and two tables. I knew I wouldn't be able to carry the furniture up three flights of steps, so I asked a guy I worked with who does odd jobs if he'd move the furniture for me. He agreed and told me he and his helper would do it for $100, or $50 each. That seemed like a good deal. We set a date and he went over in his truck to my friend's house and picked up the furniture. The couch came apart in three sections, which made it a lot easier to carry. So for $250 I now had furniture. Once we got furniture, I set about getting cable and Internet set up. Yeah, we lived there for two months without living room furniture or television or Internet. It's been a slow and arduous process, but we now have everything we need. Now, I'm not allowed in the house at all, under any circumstances, which I can't figure out because I never did anything to him. Despite the fact that my sister's name is still on the mortgage to their house, he changed the locks. Suffice to say, he's a miserable jerk and I'm happy I don't have to deal with him anymore. I'm happy that my sister gets to enjoy her days off, without him asking her if she sat on her "fat ass" all day. Of course, because of his conditioning, she still feels guilty about not doing anything on her days off. I told her she could do whatever she wanted to. She's slowly learning how to enjoy herself.<br />
<br />
Secondly, my health is slowly becoming problematic. It was one of the major factors for me quitting the scene. My RA is advancing and it makes everyday tasks difficult, even on my so-called good days. I work full time, but I'm no longer able to walk like I used to. Since the move, I haven't been able to walk to work anymore because it's just too far. My knees and hips hurt almost all the time now. The flare up I had of my RA last fall was triggered by a fall I took at work in the summer. I still haven't fully recovered. Also, my eyesight is getting worse. I just don't think I'm attractive to potential partners anymore. My face is aging and quickly. I look at pictures of me from just a few years ago and I'm stunned by how much I've changed since then. I hate to say it, but I'm beginning to look like an old lady. And make up doesn't help. I still wear it occasionally, but I've gotten out of the habit of wearing it. Having to have a tooth pulled also drove the point home to me of how much I've aged. I had always wanted to keep my own teeth. The thought of dentures was out of the question. So when I lost a filling, I thought nothing of it. I thought I would just go to the dentist and get a new one put in. But the tooth had become infected, a sure sign that there was more than likely a fracture involved. My dentist and I decided that the easiest and least expensive route would be to pull the tooth. It was a molar so no one would see the bare spot. To me, it felt like the first step to hagdom. I was turning into a gap-toothed hag and there was nothing I could do about it. I'd always been careful about how I looked. Call it pride if you have to, but I always insisted on looking my best whenever I was at an event. Oh, I still get my nails done but only because of how bad my hands would look if I didn't. Plus, I refuse to give up my nails. I work hard and if I want to get my nails done, I will. My bother-in-law always hated it that I got my nails done. He also hated it that I got my hair done or bought pretty clothes for myself. I never heard a word when my nephew's wife (who lived in the basement with him) did the same thing. She went to the tanning salon and those things are expensive. But he never said a word to her. Now, it could be that he hated as much when she did it as when I did, but I rather doubt it. My nephew's wife had an elevated status in that house that precluded even my sister. When he was redecorating the kitchen and living room, he never once asked for my sister's (or anyone else's input) but my nephew's wife. It seems she was consulted on every decision, including what color the new siding should be. My sister was never asked what she wanted. This was where, I believe, the seeds of her real unhappiness came from. She had been uniformly unhappy throughout most of her marriage, but this, coupled with finding the hidden condoms, was the straw that broke the camel's back. It showed her, once and for all, how little he actually valued her as anything but a drudge; someone who was handy for cooking and cleaning and doing his laundry, but not for consulting with on important issues. The only thing I ever got from him was his constant disapproval. I gave my sister $60 a week ($240 a month) to use in any way she wanted. It mostly went towards groceries to feed the other people in the house, but not me. I was deemed unworthy of being fed and so I had to buy my own food, despite the fact that the meals I wasn't allowed to eat were mostly paid for by me. Of course, there was a time when I wasn't allowed to use the stove or the oven. Anything I brought home to eat had to be microwaved. Also, I wasn't allowed to keep anything in the refrigerator and, at one point, I also wasn't allowed to use the microwave. So eating became a real challenge. I would bring something home from work (I work in a supermarket) and put it in the microwave while my brother-in-law slept. Then I would wash my dishes right away so he wouldn't know I'd eaten. Of course, I wasn't starving. He had to know I was eating. My nephew's wife routinely threw away food I had stored in the fridge, saying it was spoiling or that it took up too much room. I was working in the accounting office of a supermarket. I didn't have unlimited funds to buy food every time she decided to pitch my stuff out. So, eventually, things came to a head and I knew it was time to leave.<br />
<br />
So I work, I come home. I get on Facebook and see what my cousins are doing. I even sometimes look at Fetlife, but I really don't have the stomach for it anymore. I read and do other things that interest me. I do miss the fun of the spanking scene, but I just don't see myself ever being a part of it again. At least, not the way I was before. Maybe, at some point and with some luck, a man with an aim towards marriage will enter the picture. I said in my youth I would never get married. But when you're young and most of your life is ahead of you, you can afford to be brave. Once you hit my age, the thought of spending your final years alone is too awful to think about. But whatever happens, God will have his way in my life.<br />
<br />
This is an update for those who might be wondering what I'm up to these days.Cherylhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10092104839626502119noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3093759595584573218.post-18121980429678775452017-05-30T21:10:00.002-07:002017-05-30T21:10:44.505-07:00#sorrynotsorry<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b>Author's Note: This post has been sitting in my drafts folder for probably close to a year. I have no idea why I never published this. The views expressed may be controversial, but they're mine. If any of these views offend you, then feel free to stop reading.</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I'm not a huge fan of hashtags. But I began to see #sorrynotsorry on the two social media sites I belong to, namely Fetlife and Twitter. I guess the best definition I can give for #sorrynotsorry would be this: there are things I believe in and views I hold that I won't apologize for. I absolutely, categorically refuse to apologize for my views on certain subjects. They have been formed over years of living (usually on both sides of whatever the issue is), not just bowing to political correctness. I fully realize that there are people out there, perhaps the vast majority, who allow their thoughts and feelings on certain subjects to be dictated to by whatever "the crowd" is doing. That's all well and good...for them. I guess it keeps them from having to think about things too deeply. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">For the benefit of those who don't know me very well, or who have just found this blog, let me list some of the things I strongly believe in and for which I do not apologize:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">1) First and most importantly, I believe in the power, omnipotence, and sovereignty of the Lord, whether in the Person of God, Jesus Christ or the Holy Spirit. I have taken many, many hard hits for this. But nothing will shake my faith. Not being called ugly names, not being told I believe in an "imaginary friend", not being called brainwashed and not being called a "hateful, intolerant bigot". Nothing. In Matthew 5:11, Jesus is giving what's called The Sermon On The Mount and he says "Blessed are you, when people hate you, and persecute you and say all manner of evil against you for my sake." Now I know how that sounds. Be glad when people make fun of you for being a Christian? Yes, because Jesus goes on to say that we who persevere will have a great reward. This man Jesus, who loved me before I was ever born, who died a criminal's death so I could have my sins forgiven, deserves my praise and obedience. I don't go around forcing the Gospel message on people. I don't tell them about how they're going to hell because they don't believe the way I do. I simply let my personal faith show in my life. Am I perfect? Far from it. I simply acknowledge that I cannot save myself. A lot of my friends don't believe in God and I don't let that keep me from being friends with them. This is what's commonly called tolerance. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">2) I'm a conservative. I believe in my Constitutionally protected rights--the right to free speech, the right to NOT have the government tell me how to worship (the TRUE meaning of the separation of Church and State that gets misunderstood by so many), the right to keep and bear arms to protect myself and my loved ones and the right to peacefully assemble. I believe in a small government that stays out of the way of people living their lives, running their businesses in accordance with their beliefs and stops giving cradle to grave hand outs to those who aren't even American citizens or those who don't really need the help, but just are lazy and are gaming the system. Yes, there are people who need help and we have the means to help them. But three generations in one family who have <b>never</b> worked? There's something wrong with that. Hard work used to be one of the hallmarks of American life--work hard and you can get ahead. No guarantee, of course, but the opportunity is there. I also believe that America is exceptional. If we weren't exceptional, why would millions of people risk their lives to come here and be part of that? Every year, thousands and thousands of people from all over the world become American citizens. Are we perfect? Far from it. Societies will never be perfect until people are perfect and unfortunately, this side of Heaven, none of us will ever be perfect. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">3) I do my kink my way and I'm not sorry for that. I don't force others to do it the way I do it. Quite frankly, I would hate to have that done to me. I once had a guy message me, after I had mentioned something in one of the Fetlife discussion groups about not being interested in bondage, saying that I was "judging" people who do partake in it. People who want to engage in bondage or play with needles or knives or urine should do so freely. Why are they so worried about someone like me, who isn't interested? Really? You don't feel free to practice your kink unless everyone totally agrees with and embraces it? I'm pretty sure there are a lot of kinky people out there who aren't into spanking or pain at all. Do I let that hinder my enjoyment of spanking and pain? No way. I can totally tolerate people who are disinterested or who even hate my kink the way I practice it. That's the beauty of living in a free country (well, still free for now at least). Everyone is free to do what makes them happy as long as it doesn't hurt another person (at least against their will). I've been taken to task for practicing my kink my way almost as often as the preceding two things on my list. It amazes me the kinds of emotional reactions I've gotten to something that is virtually no one's business but mine.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">4) I'm not sorry that I'm a woman. There are so many women out there (and not just kinky ones on Fetlife) who think that woman=victim. According to many modern feminists, we're supposed to hate men; to hate their historic authority over us, to hate that they "oppressed" us, which is why men get the lion's share of credit for inventions which have benefited us as much as it has men. If only we'd been allowed to succeed the way men have without compromising our femininity. There are factions out there who hate women like me---women who are happy to be women, who have no desire to be a man. That's because this attitude somehow isn't validating to transgendered people. If a woman wants to have surgery or get hormones because she would rather be a man, she should be free to do that. But she should do that with the knowledge that none of that will make her a man. She may look like one on the outside, but minus that Y chromosome, she's still a woman. Conversely, a man can have all the surgeries and hormones he can afford in order to make him more like a woman, but he will never be genetically female because of that Y chromosome. Unfortunately, I don't have the answer for what to do about people who feel trapped in a body that they don't feel is the right one. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">5) I'm not sorry that I'm straight. I'm extraordinarily happy that I'm sexually attracted to men. Of course, I can look at a beautiful woman and admire her beauty, but that doesn't mean that I want to have sex with her. Now, if people want to be a practicing gay or lesbian, that's a personal choice. If they want to be celibate, then that also is a personal choice. My opinion shouldn't have anything to do with someone else's personal decisions regarding their own sexuality. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;">6) I'm not sorry I'm an American. Oh, I know that according the Social Justice Warriors out there, I'm supposed to hang my head in shame because I'm a citizen of the greatest country on earth. I'm supposed to constantly apologize for my "white Christian American" privilege. But I don't. Not even for a second. Every morning when I wake up, I thank the God I believe in that he placed me in this country, with all of its freedoms and all of its wonderful promise. Contrary to what people may think, I didn't have a "little princess" upbringing. I wasn't given everything my little heart desired. Both of my parents were hard working and level headed and I also thank God that they instilled that in me. We didn't have a lot growing up, but I don't remember a time when I didn't have a roof over my head, clothes on my back or food to eat. Nowadays, I see kids with every gadget imaginable. And I get told how these poor waifs, with their iPhones and X Boxes and whatever the next big thing is need food stamps and free housing because they're so poor. Poor? They have more than I had growing up. But we never got food stamps or any other kind of public assistance. My parents simply broke their backs to provide for us, which was something that used to be admired in this great country. Hard work was always part of the package deal that came with being an American, whether you were native born or an immigrant. Now we teach people that hard work is a bad thing and that everyone should just have things handed to them. And even though I see bad things in America, I'm still thankful that I'm American. #sorrynotsorry</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>Cherylhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10092104839626502119noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3093759595584573218.post-37261952619728120332017-05-30T20:46:00.002-07:002017-05-30T20:46:52.161-07:00On Why I Left<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"Well it's alright</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">even when you're old and gray.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Well, it's alright</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">you still got something to say."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">From "The End Of The Line" by The Traveling Wilburys</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">A few months ago, I made an announcement on Fetlife that I was leaving the organized spanking scene. This was something I never saw happening, but there it is. My decision wasn't made rashly, in a moment of anger because I can't seem to find play partners. The decision actually took months to make. I started thinking about it in summer time. I was thinking to myself "Why continue wasting your time? It's pretty obvious that no one is interested in playing with you and it looks like parties aren't going to be happening anymore either. So just stop it." And so I finalized my decision and put a short note on Fetlife letting the people who weren't interested in playing with me that I had decided to leave the scene. A few people wrote that they respected my decision, while disappointed that I was leaving. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I will state right here that I really am not leaving with any bitterness. Disappointment? You bet. But I'm not bitter. I met and played with some wonderful people. I had a door to a whole new world opened to me; a door that never would have opened otherwise. I experienced more than I ever thought I would in my thirteen years in the scene. More importantly, I had my sister with me for seven of those years. It was her decision to attend a Chicago Crimson Moon party alone that gave me the courage to follow her. Oh, the fun we had together! I cherish all those memories even more now that she's gone. Going on without her was rough, but I soldiered on with the help of friends and family. Of course, it wasn't really the same. And I'm pretty sure if she were still here, she would lament the change in the spanking scene the same way I have (but probably with a bit more wit and humor). </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">To me, the spanking scene has become a popularity contest. The popular folks have now set the course of the scene to the point that, if you're not a "Fetlebrity" (someone famous on Fetlife), you're nothing. I hate to say it, but it's true. At one time, I would have probably considered myself a minor Fetlebrity. I had been on the site long enough to have a detailed profile and over 1700 photos posted. I went to parties in Chicago and as far afield as Atlantic City and Detroit. I was shocked when, about five years ago, I went to a hardcore BDSM event in St. Louis and several people told me they had "heard of" me. I was flattered because, believe me, I valued few things in the scene more than I did my reputation. I've stated before how hard I worked to get a good reputation; as someone who was both fun to play with, but also fun. Was I everyone's cup of tea? Certainly not. But then, I don't know of anyone who is. There are certainly people who think they are. We used to say these people "think they're all that and the box it came in." To me, nothing is a bigger turn off than arrogance and, sad to say, there's just too much of it in the scene these days. There are too many people out there whose attitude is that the scene would somehow collapse if they weren't there to prop it up. Here's a shot of truth: the spanking scene will be just fine without you. It will be just fine without me. It existed before I ever knew about it, much less participated and it will continue to exist now that I've left. I have no illusions that I'm somehow bigger than the scene. I was but a minor player on that stage. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">To be fair, it wasn't just the changes in the scene that factored in my decision to leave. I have also had to adjust to changes in my body that had begun to make playing more and more difficult. I suffered two major flairs of my RA; one last spring and one in the fall (from which I still haven't fully recovered). What man wants to play with a woman who has to kill the moment (and takes her top out of top space) by constantly having to reposition? My hips and back hurt almost constantly from damage done by this progressive disease. I can understand the tops wanting to play with younger, more lithe and flexible women, who can hold those demanding positions. I would think that any top who expects a 56-year-old bottom who weighs over 200 pounds and has RA to bend over and touch her toes is begging to be disappointed. I can't do it; not just physically, but mentally. I have an intense fear of falling down. In 2012 I had a vitreous detachment in my right eye which affected my depth perception. So now, when I go down a flight of stairs, I take great care. Also, because I'm so top heavy, if I'm asked to bend over, once I get my weight going in one direction, it's hard to stop the momentum created by having large breasts and a thick stomach. Yeah, not a sexy thought at all. Fat girl falling down. Last summer, while walking to work, I misjudged how high to lift my foot to step over a bundle of firewood that had fallen off the pallet, my foot caught the edge of it and I took a spectacular tumble over it. Ten people must have seen me fall and only one person stopped to make sure I was OK. I wasn't wearing work clothes so he had no idea I going to work. I'm pretty sure that fall triggered that autumn's RA flair. So can you imagine any top wanting to play with a fat older lady with poor balance and a fear of falling? </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">You know, I always said that I would remain active in the scene until my bones were too brittle to risk love taps. It never occurred to me that a time would come when demand would fall for anyone wanting to play with me. I always thought I would be the one who decided when I left. Perhaps that was arrogant of me and I guess I have to own that. I was so busy being excited about parties and pantie shopping that I never realized that tastes would change down the road. I think, like a few other things concerning the scene, I was led down a path or sold a bill of goods or however you want to phrase it. I was assured, each time my insecurities would rear their ugly heads, that fun, approachable bottoms would always be in demand. Well, someone define "fun" and "approachable" because I thought I knew what those words meant. More and more at parties, I would find myself prowling the empty hallways looking for someone who might want to play. Usually, I had no luck. In the beginning, Carol and I were two of the busier bottoms in the group. That's not bragging; it's the truth. In the end, I was reduced to playing with men I would have never given a second glance to in the days when I could afford to be choosy. When that realization hit me, I knew it was time to leave. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">And so now I bid adieu to that world--that world of hotel parties and road trips. Of yellow couches and midnight burger runs. To bruises and cane marks and giggling. I'll miss that world, but I'll never regret for one minute having lived in it.</span>Cherylhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10092104839626502119noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3093759595584573218.post-62288395713529114232016-06-26T00:33:00.002-07:002016-06-26T00:33:35.305-07:00An Honest Look At Some Recent Play Dates<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">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.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_JD966Dyen-rqarXXuc55ONt4XisMl5lBkbfTIKqHlbvpx6C880vgA9NAl6wuqJtnHRhW4IMJ9kDkq8HWHoMCh8V9ioDuczFVS9vtFcv0JzI3UNY7RqLlNMKBJeFjBtjylzFowxvwXK1d/s1600/Cane+Welts.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_JD966Dyen-rqarXXuc55ONt4XisMl5lBkbfTIKqHlbvpx6C880vgA9NAl6wuqJtnHRhW4IMJ9kDkq8HWHoMCh8V9ioDuczFVS9vtFcv0JzI3UNY7RqLlNMKBJeFjBtjylzFowxvwXK1d/s320/Cane+Welts.jpg" width="282" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">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. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">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. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOrWS-_hkjPzuBzKrPgjCqDKBfUfuBR6NxnDynaCVgiA9ClYE_fj0WZgmajD87sfwfkKqKH7yhKFNDUMSGajEmBZ70HjlWaAr7fKheS4HepWVKcH6AaheL4q7Sj84S7X0qVuAx9yGAYWTV/s1600/010.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOrWS-_hkjPzuBzKrPgjCqDKBfUfuBR6NxnDynaCVgiA9ClYE_fj0WZgmajD87sfwfkKqKH7yhKFNDUMSGajEmBZ70HjlWaAr7fKheS4HepWVKcH6AaheL4q7Sj84S7X0qVuAx9yGAYWTV/s320/010.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">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.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">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. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7hDY0TDU_1qciwny9tpaGFz0VsGI3ZMo-3q082ZGPYkgC-orF1o1voay_0_YAZtejJ-Th7pWCQZm3AN0fLGQ9-BsWpshAR7eU7yUDY8YZyxMwVC0SKR3Qi960EONhEX-W8-pUqFbkxI-H/s1600/With+Jerry.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7hDY0TDU_1qciwny9tpaGFz0VsGI3ZMo-3q082ZGPYkgC-orF1o1voay_0_YAZtejJ-Th7pWCQZm3AN0fLGQ9-BsWpshAR7eU7yUDY8YZyxMwVC0SKR3Qi960EONhEX-W8-pUqFbkxI-H/s320/With+Jerry.jpg" width="293" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">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. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">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.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">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.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">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? </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">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.</span></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>Cherylhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10092104839626502119noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3093759595584573218.post-20647592309434711902016-06-24T18:32:00.001-07:002016-06-24T18:32:14.305-07:00Is Fat The New Skinny?<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The answer is, of course, no. The title of my post today is a <i>rhetorical </i>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.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">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. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">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. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">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 </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">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.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">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.</span>Cherylhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10092104839626502119noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3093759595584573218.post-16782836493813882262015-09-23T10:46:00.001-07:002015-09-23T10:46:51.790-07:00Much Ado About Fetlife<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I joined Fetlife (the online social networking site that's been called "Facebook for kinksters") in September, 2008. I've been a fairly high profile presence there for about the last three or four years. I've been relatively disenchanted with Fetlife for more than a year now. It's not just that, despite having hundreds of thousands of members who claim spanking as a fetish, the percentage of <i>pure </i>spankos who engage without a D/s dynamic remains relatively small. It's not just that Fetlife has become less and less <i>welcoming</i> of the heteronormative mindset. It's not just that many of the discussion groups have become overtaken by people posting personal ads. It's not just because Fetlife has become a cesspool of people just looking for a quick hook up. It's not just the male entitlement attitude that permeates every aspect of the site. It's not just that people now seem unable to disagree without name calling and personal attacks. It's not just that you are labeled "judgmental" if you don't embrace kink the way others do it. It's not just that factions and splinter groups seem to have infiltrated the power structure of the national spanking party scene, thanks to having a site like Fetlife to use as the springboard for their supposed popularity. It's not just that Fetlife members routinely engage in silencing and shaming those who either disagree with those they perceive to be in power or who hold views that somehow dangerous to those chosen few who are actually in power (whether anyone chooses to acknowledge this or not). It's ALL of these things combined and more. So let's take these reasons for my disenchantment one at a time.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">1) Pure spankos (those for whom spanking is their main or only fetish) remain a small part of Fetlife's overall membership. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When I first joined Fetlife, it was still new so I rather optimistically thought that as soon as more spankos discovered the site they would join. But that has proven unfounded. Fetlife, the way I see it, is still mostly populated by those whose main thing is a D/s dynamic, whether spanking is part of it or not. In fact, it seems to me that Fetlife is now pretty much taken over by the bondage and flogger crowd. I've heard from a number of other spankos that they are derisively laughed at for being "just a spanko" and told, like me, that they are practically vanilla. I'm not saying that there are no other spankos on Fetlife, but there aren't enough to make me not feel like a minority. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">2) Fetlife has become less welcoming to those who hold heteronormative ideals.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This has become especially true since the Supreme Court decision that made so-called same sex marriage legal came down in June. I received several hostile (and one threatening) messages in my inbox because I identify as "straight". For the sake of argument, let me define what I believe heteronormative is: to me, heteronormative means accepting and embracing traditional gender roles for both sexes. I'm not a feminist by any stretch of the imagination. I don't happen to believe that women are superior to men. I also don't happen to believe men are superior to women. One sex is not better than the other...they're just different. If you hold this view, you are likely to get it with both barrels from feminists of every stripe. The same with homosexuals, which is why I received hate mail from them when the Supreme Court decision was made public. They seem to think that simply identifying as "straight" means you are diametrically opposed to them and are therefor judging them. So more and more, as a straight female who's only attracted sexually to men, I feel less than welcomed.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">3) Many (if not most) of the discussion groups on Fetlife have become nothing more than places to post personal ads or, more commonly, "what would you like to do to me?" posts.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When I first joined Fetlife, discussion groups were mostly for...discussion. I totally understand that there are only so many topics that spankos are interested in discussing. The topics aren't unlimited. But at some point, it became acceptable for groups to be co-opted by these "single and looking" personal ads. To their credit, some groups have made rules that ads either can't be posted at all or only in a thread designated for them. I guess at some point, group moderators just got tired of beating their heads against that brick wall and just threw up their hands. The sad result is that you're less likely to see actual discussion in these groups.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">4) Fetlife is slowly being turned into a hook up site by those who use it that way. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I've opined on this topic in other entries, but I will just say that, because Fetlife is free to use, many people (men mostly) use it as a way to get porn without having to pay for it. Because of this, they tend to view the women on Fetlife as their personal sex vending machines. Women who don't want to be treated this way are usually told "lighten up" or "get with the program, sweetheart. You're on a sex site." I freely admit that I've met some pretty cool people here on Fetlife, some of whom turned out to be play partners. But using Fetlife to get my sex on? Just no.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">5) Male entitlement attitude is rife on Fetlife.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As I said, I'm no feminist when it comes to relationships between men and women, but for crying out loud the men on Fetlife need to get a clue. The number of men openly looking for play or sex partners is staggering. That's not the problem. The problem is the men who want these fantasy women to simply fall in their laps without putting any effort at all into the endeavor. It's as if they're saying to us "You have something I want. Give it to me!" I've given up counting the number of ads I've seen in groups where men (mostly "strict" doms) post about how they can fulfill my every desire and they can host, too. Uh...these guys are totally clueless. Do they really think that any woman in her right mind will just run off to visit a stranger in his home? That breaks two rules of SSC, the safe and sane part. When you point this little fact out to them, they get all butthurt and say things like "I wasn't asking for advice", etc. They just don't seem to understand how this thing called kink works. They just want random women to punish, they don't want to waste time getting to know these ladies as whole people or building trust. They just want to be serviced. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">6) If you disagree with someone on Fetlife, expect name calling and personal attacks.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It used to be that people on Fetlife were a lot more civil towards each other. When I first joined, people often disagreed about things, but made their arguments in a much friendlier way. Now, with so many snark groups on there (of which I belong to a couple) it appears that snark is now the norm in most groups. I've seen hundreds of people whose go-to answer to someone they disagree with is "what an idiot" or "don't feed the trolls". So now, if you hold an ideal that's different from someone else, you're now automatically a troll? I'm a Christian conservative and I make no secret of it. It would make your head spin to see the hate-filled venomous attacks people like me endure on a daily basis. I wonder what happened to tolerance and acceptance in our scene? Oh, that's right. Being a Christian automatically makes me a "hater" so it's OK to flame me publicly. Carry on.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">7) Expect to have the "judgmental" label pinned on you if you don't do kink the way others do it.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Somehow, we've come to the point where even being uninterested in other forms of kink will get a person labeled as "judgmental". I'm not now and never will be into certain things; things like bondage and spanking as punishment are things that will never float my boat. However, I don't have anything against people who do those things. We used to have a code for this attitude: YKINMK (Your kink is not my kink). It was a way to let people know that whatever it was they were into was totally OK but just not our cup of tea. I remember sometime last year someone who was a friend of mine posted an adorable photo of herself in a costume. It was so precious, I just had to love the photo and put a comment on it. I said something like "Costumes aren't my thing, but this is really adorable" and another person (not the person whose photo it was) sent me a private message reading me the riot act because supposedly I'm always being negative and making fun of other peoples' kinks. Not only did she remove herself from my sisters list, eventually she unfriended me and then she blocked me. So be aware that asserting your individuality, even in the smallest way, will get you labeled as judgmental.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">8) Factions and splinter groups have infiltrated the national spanking party scene, due at least in part to having Fetlife as a platform for their popularity.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'm not quite sure how this happened. When I first started in the party scene, people went to their "local" party. People from Chicago (or those withing driving distance) went to Crimson Moon. Those in Michigan went to MDSS. Those in Florida went to Florida Moonshine. The only exception was Shadowlane and that was mostly because of their videos. They had a much higher profile so quite a few people went to their parties too. Nowadays, people seem to hit every major party during the party season (which, like baseball, runs from about April to October). Maybe the fact that CM went from having five parties a year to only two had something to do with it? Whatever the case, there now seems to be factions comprised of a small number of people, who attend every big party and have a hand in organizing them, even though they're not local to the area. Some of these people have only been in the scene a few years. Now I'm not criticizing someone who wants to step forward and do something for the community as a whole. Those folks are always well appreciated. I'm talking about people establishing a personal power base for themselves where they begin to dictate policy and their tastes begin to be made the norm, not just at one party, but all of them. I believe this was achieved simply because Fetlife gave these people a platform to speak from and in a way was a springboard for their popularity. I'm not a conspiracy theorist so you have to know that I feel really strongly about this. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">9) </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Fetlife members now use shaming and silencing to keep unpopular views from being heard. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">For some time now, I've limited my opining to this blog because I learned just how unpopular my views are on Fetlife. I believe bullying is an overused word these days, but I think this might be a case where it's actually happening. If you oppose same-sex marriage as I do or if you believe in your Constitutional right to keep and bear arms, then you are going to be called a zealot or a Neanderthal (if you happen to be male). You'll be told that your views are bigotry and/or hate speech and that you should join the 21st century. If you're a Christian, you'll be called a hypocrite for even being on Fetlife. The "tolerance and acceptance" that the Keepers Of All Things Fair and Equal preach does not extend to those who follow the teachings of Jesus Christ, well because of that unfortunate passage in Leviticus. I've seen people post in groups that "those crazy Bible thumpers" ought to have their free speech rights taken away and at least, on Fetlife, that has pretty much happened.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I admit that I'm not on Fetlife nearly as much as I used to be. I think the fact that I once lived on that site made it a lot easier to notice when things began to go downhill. I've actually let my support for Fetlife expire because I just don't see how I can justify spending $60 a year for something I enjoy a lot less than I used to. It seems more and more evident to me that if you really ARE an individual and you resist joining the conga line that Fetlife has become you won't get as much out of the Fetlife experience as those who are willing to give up their individuality and join the crowd. Oh I guess if you just want to have a profile and maintain a weak presence then you'll probably be OK. But try to join in on things and be a real presence there then you will, at some point, get dealt with by the so-called powers that be. And I don't mean John Baku (the man whose brainchild Fetlife is) or the caretakers. I mean the people to whom they have ceded their power. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Maybe the problem is that Fetlife has gotten a little too big for its britches. Whatever the case, it's pretty obvious that the present day website isn't the same site I joined seven years ago. Change should be expected but it isn't always for the better. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>Cherylhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10092104839626502119noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3093759595584573218.post-12370466336125342612015-03-21T15:43:00.003-07:002015-03-21T15:43:30.975-07:00When Life Hands You Lemons<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigT6jLzmbD6svOpZe68fCoBQA50HMcAXuNyKBzxeSBII1JkM-GVWnet4cwwqvmnXNJXQXSGPpCF3jcpG5U284HnWyTMsSRP6gRBKxxpnRh9RmElj3weMXmEJV5EqLZN77UUyzOMU8g0gCv/s1600/Lemons.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigT6jLzmbD6svOpZe68fCoBQA50HMcAXuNyKBzxeSBII1JkM-GVWnet4cwwqvmnXNJXQXSGPpCF3jcpG5U284HnWyTMsSRP6gRBKxxpnRh9RmElj3weMXmEJV5EqLZN77UUyzOMU8g0gCv/s1600/Lemons.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There's no way around it; sometimes you just have to make the best of a bad situation. Nowhere is that point driven home better than that old axiom "When life hands you lemons, make lemonade". </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"But Cheryl," I can hear you all grumbling, "what does that have to do with spanking?"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Well, allow me to explain. Long time readers of these pages have heard me lamenting at other times that I never got to be a young woman in the spanking scene. Yeah, life's not fair. I get that. I learned that lesson a very long time ago. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I was simply born at the wrong time. There's no getting around that. When I was a cute 20-year-old, there was no spanking scene (at least, not here in the States). Even if there had been, I lacked the confidence and the resources to participate. There was also no internet. In those days (the early 80's) there were three ways to meet men if you were kinky:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">1) Go to an adult book store and put an ad on the bulletin board with your name, phone number and what you're into.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">2) Put an ad in an adult magazine or newspaper.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">3) Pick up a guy in a bar and hope he wasn't an axe murderer.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">You can see how limited our resources were. We didn't even have cellphones in those days so there was no texting going on. If you did actually meet a guy and wanted to talk to him, you had to exchange phone numbers. People had to actually "date" in those days. However, none of the young men I met were interested in spanking me. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqPTo5MrjQHTHceplpfMJPXx07KPbHCK2g1dKZtV8OLq6yOQJjqsES5TWwSDuoaUSj7GVF5X35qBGR-HfmRhLUcQn5tHkSBS7_JUrNnpGjE48CSqo6Fv-J1XP8aHiIecJoMjmzy58GEwvh/s1600/Duranie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqPTo5MrjQHTHceplpfMJPXx07KPbHCK2g1dKZtV8OLq6yOQJjqsES5TWwSDuoaUSj7GVF5X35qBGR-HfmRhLUcQn5tHkSBS7_JUrNnpGjE48CSqo6Fv-J1XP8aHiIecJoMjmzy58GEwvh/s1600/Duranie.jpg" height="277" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The above photo was taken at a friend's completely seedy house during a party. The smoke should be a cue that I'm smoking and I was. But not a cigarette. I was stoned out of my gourd here. I did many things in my youth that I regret now because of drugs and alcohol. There's no way that I would have made the right decisions to be safe in the scene; especially since drugs and alcohol were a part of my everyday life back then. Maybe if I had been sober I would see things differently. Anyway, that's another thing that's unfair about life: you never really know the things you're missing until somehow the years of your life show them to you. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In every other way, I've always said that I was born at the perfect time. I was fully able to enjoy the 70's and most of the 60's (though as a child). The music was awesome, the cars were cool, the television was groovy and the toys were the best. But...there's that small regret. Time marches on and it has taken its toll on me in many ways. The years have been kind in regards to my looks, I'll be the first to admit. Many women my age look every bit of it. I'm don't think it's bragging to say that. Lots of people that I meet are surprised when they learn how old I am. So I don't want anyone to get the idea that I'm just feeling sorry for myself here. I do have some blessings to count. But when I see the excitement of the young people just coming into the scene, I do feel just a pang of remorse over when I was born. I would give almost anything to be a young person in the scene today--with all the advantages of social media, Smartphones and texting. There are times I feel like a dinosaur. I don't understand the appeal of most of the new shows that young people watch. I don't understand their taste in music at all. I don't get the new films that they Tweet about. But I still know how to enjoy myself, although I'm sober these days.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Now, saying all this, I have to say that we older folks do serve a purpose in the scene. We should be there to give advice when it's asked for. After all, if they have the advantage of youth, we have the advantage of experience. And young people should remember that they're walking a road that was paved for them, the same as it was for us by the ones who came before us. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOiS97W0yloce4CtBSMn1YwpmL9_kIE4EyGefKbs8pnjGbOdpN6qgMlEAfHKi4-DheM0twkooGX2fU1y4p9OKfHSvXLqBWxeTCpR5ehinvf9R4kNY2wppgkQOHS3aEvcLgCkWP_LezoF0f/s1600/Coveralls.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOiS97W0yloce4CtBSMn1YwpmL9_kIE4EyGefKbs8pnjGbOdpN6qgMlEAfHKi4-DheM0twkooGX2fU1y4p9OKfHSvXLqBWxeTCpR5ehinvf9R4kNY2wppgkQOHS3aEvcLgCkWP_LezoF0f/s1600/Coveralls.jpg" height="320" width="210" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As a teen (I was 18 when the above photo was taken), I think part of my problem was that I hung around people a lot older than me. In the photo here, I'm dressed to go fishing with my grandfather. I spent a lot of time with my Paw Paw while he lived. He and I had some awesome talks while our fishing lines bobbed in the water. Because I spent so much time with older folks, I think I had a maturity that most of the people I knew who were my age lacked. My mother always used to say I was an "old soul", meaning I never really acted my age. I always acted older and more mature than my age. Maybe that's another reason that some of the young people in the scene get on my nerves a little. Behavior that I would never dream of engaging in happens all the time at parties. People just shrug and say "They're young". Well, so was I once. I think the difference is that I had people around me who put the brakes on my behavior before it became destructive. Even in my worst days of alcoholism and pill popping I never really hurt anyone but myself. I never drove drunk or reported for work under the influence. Even when I was drunk my common sense never got overridden by my stupidity. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So getting down to brass tacks here, I have to say that today I feel a bit sad that never got to be a 21 year old at her first party. Nothing will ever change that. Well, not unless someone really does learn how to make a time machine out of a Delorean. In the meantime, I'll just have to make lots of this:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh4GzGdPXWRhCnLSWtM2BKdB3ZMoi15Zri8q-EuDfkgksZssIr4c0oxt5QTD2wrJBocNN2GW53FLyFpj7Dxuk44pxUaQSogw3fr1M3dxQltvpHuq0Sw7__yfBLEaO0ykAq4TRgjHe2zAg2/s1600/lemonade.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh4GzGdPXWRhCnLSWtM2BKdB3ZMoi15Zri8q-EuDfkgksZssIr4c0oxt5QTD2wrJBocNN2GW53FLyFpj7Dxuk44pxUaQSogw3fr1M3dxQltvpHuq0Sw7__yfBLEaO0ykAq4TRgjHe2zAg2/s1600/lemonade.jpg" height="320" width="265" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And it's a good thing I like the taste of lemonade. So if you see me with a sour look on my face, just put down to lemonade. I'll just go on, trying my best to make the best of a less than ideal situation. The spanking scene will go on after I hang up my canes. I'll go on enjoying parties when I feel like attending. But oh, to be a young lady getting all of that attention!</span><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>Cherylhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10092104839626502119noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3093759595584573218.post-75399597149565505172015-03-04T15:58:00.001-08:002015-03-04T15:58:57.453-08:00When In Rome<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There used to be a very famous saying: "When in Rome, do as the Romans". What this means is when you're visiting somewhere, whether it's another country or even just someone's home, it's customary to partake of the local customs. Unfortunately for me, the closest I ever got to Rome was a Toga Party thrown by some friends when I was in Atlantic City last year.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEre5Kw_zKQnUiRwxoMrEQPk8yeHdNQKPPD0Ee_b11PzrIUNhq2v82Ja6ob01Do_y0vTmUk3QdJH1h5XyfAWkNmNdKdKRAdk8n4-5uWdWZ9rVS9z9tISOTjGIrOdZKb23-B0c-BX_LT3bv/s1600/Hug.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEre5Kw_zKQnUiRwxoMrEQPk8yeHdNQKPPD0Ee_b11PzrIUNhq2v82Ja6ob01Do_y0vTmUk3QdJH1h5XyfAWkNmNdKdKRAdk8n4-5uWdWZ9rVS9z9tISOTjGIrOdZKb23-B0c-BX_LT3bv/s1600/Hug.jpg" height="221" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I had a great time with these folks, mostly because they were good friends of mine and there was spanking involved. Which leads me to the subject of today's entry. Do hosts have the right to expect their guests to participate in activities that make them uncomfortable? Is it bad manners to decline a particular activity because it's "not my thing"? How do we decline without hurting the host's feelings? I'll use the above photo as an example. The Toga Party that I attended was thrown in a private suite by friends of mine. There was alcohol (several different wines) available, even though everyone in the room knew I don't touch alcohol. In no way did I feel that my hosts had disrespected me or my feelings by offering wine. None was offered to me personally. Now, if everyone had spent the evening trying to get me to drink, I might have felt differently. However, there have been times when I've felt pressured to do something I ordinarily wouldn't do because all the other participants were doing it. Once or twice, the pressure was overt. But more often, it's more subtle. I won't put the details of specific incidents here because I have no idea who reads this and the thought of someone being offended by me stating my discomfort is too horrible for words. Suffice to say that I declined to do what everyone else was doing for my own personal reasons. There was a card game being played and it was a game I wasn't interested in playing. So when I was invited to play, I politely declined. The majority of the players accepted my decision with grace, but a few gave me a moderate harangue on the issue. After all, everyone else was doing it. I think one or two people may have taken my polite refusal as me saying I'm better or morally superior to them in some way. True, the game had some distasteful aspects to it (not the least of which for me is bad language) but that's really why I declined. I think I declined because everyone else was playing. The card game is one of those trendy games that no one will remember in three or four years (kind of the way no one remembers the game Sex Drive today). It just smacked of what I call Everyone's Doing It Syndrome. In much the same way people were reading the "50 Shades" books because everyone else was, this card game became <i>de rigeur </i>at many of the spanking parties I attended. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So that begs a question. People in the kink scene say that we embrace and encourage individuality, but do we really? Almost everyone wants to be accepted or seen as popular. I know very few people who are true rebels in the kink scene; those who march to their own drummer and don't allow others to pressure them into conforming to their standards. When I see friends who never showed the slightest interest in a certain activity all of a sudden embrace it, I have to wonder why. Usually, it means that that person has made a new friend and that new friend has either subtly or overtly pressured them to do it, too as a way of "fitting in". Sometimes, it could just mean that the person in question has just experienced an area of growth, something that's perfectly normal in the kink scene. But sadly, more often than not, it usually means that they've befriended someone who expects all of his or her friends to be into the same things he or she is into and they won't tolerate someone who doesn't play along. Of course, it's really hard to know which event occurred. But given what I know about peer pressure in the scene I can tell you that it does happen and that normally bright and imaginative people give in to peer pressure in order to be popular. As an example, the fact that I don't drink or smoke makes me unpopular with the scotch and cigars crowd. It's just something that I won't ever be able to partake of because I've quit both of those things. I enjoyed them while I did them, for sure but I don't do them anymore. I guess that makes me seem like I'm on a moral high horse with some people, but that's not it at all. I don't judge smokers or drinkers because I used to be one. To me, there's nothing more angering than a former smoker who acts like they never smoked. This is especially true if they're smoking on the side and living in fear of being caught. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As another example, I was once invited to an ageplay party and I politely explained that since that wasn't my thing, I felt it best to attend another of the suite parties available that night. The person who invited me accepted my explanation graciously and wished me a pleasant evening and there I thought the matter rested. Not true. Later, when I returned home, I had a private message in my inbox asking me why I had dissed the ageplayers. The person who wrote me told me that the person who had invited me told them I had "recoiled in horror" at being invited. This wasn't true, I explained in my message back to this person. I told them that I had declined in a perfectly polite way, explaining that I had never had any interest in ageplay and that, quite frankly, it made me a bit uncomfortable. So I guess that constitutes recoiling in horror. Whatever happened to "your kink is not my kink"? I'm sure I'm into things that other people find weird and that's OK with me. I've never expected other people to be into all of the same things as me. I can't speak for the BDSM scene as I'm not into it, but I can say that, in my opinion, the spanking scene has become a cult of personality, where a select few control who gets accepted and who gets left out. But they're more likely to accept you if you at least pretend to like what they like. And that leaves me out because more than ever before, the spanking scene has become all about punishment and discipline, two things I have no interest in at all. I see people who never had the slightest interest in doing punishments now embracing it and I have to wonder if it's because they feel they'll be left out if they don't? It's a rather uncomfortable feeling knowing that you're not popular and if you don't attend a certain party, you won't be missed. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Look, I'm not saying that everyone who develops a new fetish does it only because someone coerced them into it. I know that people often change and grow as they go on in the scene. I know I've changed quite a bit from when I first started. However, my core beliefs haven't changed. I still detest real punishment scenarios as much as I did when I was a newbie (and I participated in a misguided attempt to fit in). But I've seen so many people doing 180s in their philosophies that it makes me wonder. I've also come to grips with the fact that my political and religious views don't win me any fans in the spanking world either. It's one thing to not enjoy participating in punishment role plays, but quite another to criticize the current administration, especially how they react to watching Islamic terrorists cut of the heads off Christians. Many of the people in the kink community are hostile to Christians, so why would they mind if a couple hundred of them get beheaded on Youtube? I mean, it's not like we're humans or anything, right? I'm a follower of Jesus Christ and I don't apologize for it. Last time I checked with the Constitution, Freedom Of Religion was still there. Being a conservative Christian in the spanking scene is one sure way to get yourself uninvited to the popular kids' parties. I'm sure there are others like me who love the Lord but they keep that to themselves for fear of being ridiculed or ostracized. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So I guess that wraps up this entry. I will state right here that I have no desire to do something distasteful to me for fear of being teased or unfriended. I've had both happen to me in my life and I've survived them. I also have no desire to do "what everyone else is doing". My mother taught me years ago that just because everyone else is doing something doesn't mean I should be doing it. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>Cherylhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10092104839626502119noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3093759595584573218.post-36177679302515657022015-02-19T15:45:00.002-08:002015-02-19T15:45:48.974-08:00Respect...Learn The Meaning Of The Word!<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Author's Note: Today's entry is highly explicit in language and content. If this kind of thing offends you (as it does me) then please don't read any further.</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I've been on Fetlife for about six and a half years now; since September, 2008. It has changed a lot in the course of those six and a half years. Some of those changes have been for the better, such as a button that lets you "love" a particular photo or writing. But some of the changes have been for the worse, such as men beginning to think that they are owed something by the women on the site, whether it be allowing men to talk about them suggestively with impunity or demanding that women "show more" in their photos. This entitlement attitude just seems to get worse. And the more we women complain about it, the more the men insist that they have the right to treat us as objects. After all, we post photos showing our bodies, some of them highly explicit. At the very least, most of us spankos show our red bare bottoms along with the occasional up skirt or pantie shot. Does this behavior mean that men are now free to objectify us to their heart's content?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As I said in my "Myth vs. Reality" entry, Fetlife is a social networking site, but because it's free to use, many men feel that it's OK to view Fetlife as a porn site because they don't want to go to the trouble and expense of paying for porn. So for them, Fetlife becomes their source for porn. And since the ladies in the porn videos are happy and eager to put out, they see no reason why the ladies on Fetlife shouldn't be the same way. Then they get a reality check.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A couple of days ago, I received a very crassly worded message from a man who told me what he would like to do to a certain part of my anatomy. I get those kinds of messages all the time, usually from men I don't know. Men who know me know better than to talk to me that way. I could see if I posted really revealing and explicit photos, which might tell the guys on Fetlife that they have a green light to objectify me all they want to. But I don't. I post photos of my bottom and sometimes some of the more intimate parts are visible (though not outrageously so). So because of that, I felt that this man had been inappropriate with me and I told him so. I asked him in several different messages to please be respectful of me, but he just didn't get it. He tried to do what we call "mansplain" his way out of it. He also continued to be disrespectful by telling me in his second message that, while he was sorry he had been disrespectful to me, a woman's nakedness does something to him that makes him act in inappropriate ways. So, really it was my fault because I post naked photos. He seemed to be saying that he had no control over his reactions to photos of naked women and so he shouldn't be held accountable. This is classic "mansplaining". He told me in this third message, after again apologizing to me, that he would eat food off my butt because it's just so gorgeous. Apparently, he felt this was more respectful than his first message had been. This is the photo that prompted the inappropriate message:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuYUE6p94WoEgUeWdcwgYPVtvVK0W64YQJgxwHKXfmR-r58xwYXbWBdeUSslPDtOKRkZPYAHI2Bq5b7o-hN-Wx1laZzXyx5SGZkKvp_iKBz_RFzIa4DrB4bnf0oCdRTnsogA4rHxPiKpE_/s1600/Thong.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuYUE6p94WoEgUeWdcwgYPVtvVK0W64YQJgxwHKXfmR-r58xwYXbWBdeUSslPDtOKRkZPYAHI2Bq5b7o-hN-Wx1laZzXyx5SGZkKvp_iKBz_RFzIa4DrB4bnf0oCdRTnsogA4rHxPiKpE_/s1600/Thong.jpg" height="264" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Notice that I'm not even naked in this photo. Unless, like Superman, he has X-ray vision and can see through clothing, there's not much showing here, at least not by Fetlife standards. Granted, there are a lot of women on Fetlife that I would term attention whores. They love being noticed. To a certain degree, I'm one of them. I love knowing that men want to spank me and that they find my bottom (and the rest of me) attractive. But just because a woman may enjoy attention from men doesn't mean that there's no such thing as unwanted attention. My messenger went on with his mansplaining by telling me that men like sex and that my ass reminded him of sex. OK, that's fair enough. I've been on the planet for 54 years and have spent about 40 of those years having sex. I know men dig sex. I didn't need him to tell me that. However, just because men like sex doesn't mean that making sexually inappropriate comments to a woman he's contacting for the very first time is acceptable. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So because when it comes to sex, men and women apparently speak different languages, I'm going to attempt to translate some of what this guy said to me. The parts in quotes are actual lines from the messages he's sent me.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"I want to fuck your ass hole senseless"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Translation: I'm a total pig and I thought I would send you a message designed to prove it.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My take: this guy gets no action in real life. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"I meant it as a compliment"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Translation: I was hoping that, like the chicks I see in the porn videos I obsessively watch, any comment of a sexual nature would make you all wet and agreeable.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My take: Whenever a guy says he meant something as a compliment, he's backpedalling because he had no idea you would respond with indignity. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"you're on a site showing off your ass"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Translation: because you're displaying a part of your anatomy that I find very stimulating, I no longer have to treat you as a human being.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My take: Some women love being objectified and that's cool for them. I'm not one of them.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"a woman's nakedness does something to me."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Translation: because I get all excited at the sight of naked flesh, I'm no longer responsible for anything I may say or do.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My take: This guy wouldn't know what to do with a woman if she came with an instruction manual. All he really knows is what he sees in porn.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"i'm a man, sex is great ok. men love sex."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Translation: it's all about my dick. Stop being a prude and let my dick get what it wants.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My take: He typed that one-handed. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"your ass reminds me of sex"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Translation: I have an ass fetish. Seeing naked female buttocks makes me want to rut like a dog in heat.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My take: I have a great ass and a lot of men like it. I don't blame him for being attracted.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"i would eat food off your but(t) because it's gorgeous"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Translation: even though I identify as a dominant, I would be all subby in your presence and humiliate myself by eating food off your lovely butt.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My take: Eating food off someones butt is very unhygienic. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"i could stay in it (my ass) for hrs."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Translation: if I ever got the awesome experience of screwing your delightful ass I would never want to come out.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My take: He would probably blow his load before he even got it in.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"aww come on, i'm sorry. stop being so sensitive."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Translation: stop acting like a normal, self-respecting woman and act like you at least want to jump on my dick.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My take: If he had been in the room with me and said that, we would find out how sensitive his ball sac is.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Anyway, that's the juicier parts of the four messages I got from him. I told him I didn't want to hear from him again, so we'll see how obedient he is. Here's some advice for all of you would-be doms out there. Yes, women like attention; sometimes even sexual attention. But please, before you message a total stranger the way this guy messaged me, learn how to curb your enthusiasm. Learn how to speak like a gentleman speaking to a lady. Yes, I know that a lot of women like dirty talk. I'm just not one of them and I'm sure I'm not alone. You will get a lot more accomplished if you send a politely worded message first, one that expresses that you see the woman as a complete human being instead of a body part. A few times when I've given this kind of advice, I've gotten messages back saying "Listen, bitch I'm a dom. I don't have time to be all candy and flowers with sluts. They either service me or they don't." Yeah, let me know how that approach is working out for you. It appears that these particular dudes have never heard that old axiom "You can catch more flies with honey than you can with vinegar". A woman, even one like me who posts pictures of my bare bottom, deserves to be treated like a human being and not a body part.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And ladies, that respect door swings both ways. It's one thing to post teaser photos (as I've done numerous times), but it's something else entirely to post photos you know will get the guys all hot and bothered and then castigate them for behaving like horny bastards. If we want to be treated a certain way, we should act that way. Act like a lady if you want to be treated like one. If your reputation or how you're perceived by others isn't that important to you, then feel free to act any way you want to. But be prepared to hear some comments you may not want to hear. It's OK after you've discovered it bothers you to say "I thought it didn't bother me, but it does so these are the new rules for commenting on my pics and messaging me". Men will either adapt as appropriate or not.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Getting down to brass tacks, I think the Golden Rule is a good rule of thumb. Treat people the way you want to be treated. If you don't want to be treated like a sexual object, then don't treat others that way. Fetlife might not be a sex site, but it IS an adult site. You have to be 18 to be there for a reason; because there's nudity and adult discussions that are inappropriate for kids. I would suggest learning how to read a profile is helpful in knowing how to approach a woman. If she has "no sexual messages" listed on her profile, then respect that. If she has "don't message me unless we've met" listed, then respect that. If you think that a woman has too many rules on her profile, then find someone else to message. If you see a photo that you find interesting or attractive, let the owner know in a respectful way. If you're a lady and you see a photo of a guy that you like, do likewise; be respectful. You'd be surprised how civil people can be when they're approached the right way. Yes, I know Fetlife is a site for grown ups, but there are still Rules Of Engagement. The rules that govern good behavior still apply, and with a few exceptions, are appreciated. Just because you're calling yourself a dom doesn't mean you own everything you see. Being a dom doesn't give you the right to treat people like they're beneath you or like their feelings don't matter. If you think that treating people this way will make them respect you as a dom, then you're going to learn another thing: that treating people with contempt won't make people like you or see you as a dom. They will see you as a jerk and rightfully so. At a spanking party once, a so-called dom looked at me and told me to get him a drink, pronto. I told him, since I didn't see a cast on his arm or leg, to get it himself. He was nonplussed, to put it mildly. He said "Be a good little subby and do what I said." Again, I told him that since he looked able bodied to me, he should do it himself and that I wasn't a sub. It's a problem that many doms see all women the same--as subs who are just there to serve them. A lot of that same attitude permeates Fetlife. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Just so we're clear, gentlemen...you are entitled to NOTHING. Yes, I post photos of myself and yes, many of my photos are nudes. That doesn't entitle you to my body. That doesn't entitle you to force your dick on me. Try acting like a grown up and stop thinking with your dick and you might get further. There are respectful, kind <i>gentlemen </i>getting busy right this minute because they did the right thing. Think about that the next time you send a foul, inappropriate message to a total stranger.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>Cherylhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10092104839626502119noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3093759595584573218.post-28015943818506658482015-02-09T21:16:00.002-08:002015-08-06T09:33:59.550-07:00Straight Lads Spanked<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Author's Note: Today's entry features naked males. If you're offended by the sight of naked men or you find M/M spanking disgusting, then please skip this entry.</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><br /></b></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Author's Addendum: This entry was originally posted on February 9, 2015. By request, I've removed some content and filled in some other places. It remains largely unchanged from the original.</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><br /></b></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I think, after almost five months of being a member, it's time for me to dispel some of the rumor and innuendo surrounding this website. I'll be discussing what Straight Lads Spanked IS and also what it IS NOT. Let me begin by saying that, yes I'm a paying member of the website so that will somewhat slant my commentary. However, if I wasn't a member of the website, I wouldn't be able to speak as authoritatively as I do about SLS and its culture. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So, let me start at the beginning. Last summer, I was on the internet looking for classic spanking clips from television; the kind that I remembered from my childhood. As people who use Youtube know, when you watch a video, there is a long list on the right hand side of the screen of related videos. It was while I was looking at a classic spanking threat from the 60's TV series "Flipper" that I happened to see something that caught my eye. It was the smiling face of an extremely handsome young man. The caption read "Straight man discusses making gay spanking videos". I was somewhat intrigued because I thought only gay men made gay spanking videos. I had no idea that straight men got spanked by other men on camera. So I was very much interested in seeing this video. Turns out, it was an interview with a young man named Patrick Lee (not his real name). This charming Irish lad was my first introduction to the website.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1JFU2TaNcEOR_9jSpSi9vO65MhmnP4A4cHUvLvM6mVjMAH3DoaH38h8c2zHISmechVhANfiasaSchLDaiUBKXOXoahbX5bf4lZIT4U6ZHr-O64T0GYytQ3ZT2CvMeS6-rd1rdMub4X4xy/s1600/Patrick.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="155" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1JFU2TaNcEOR_9jSpSi9vO65MhmnP4A4cHUvLvM6mVjMAH3DoaH38h8c2zHISmechVhANfiasaSchLDaiUBKXOXoahbX5bf4lZIT4U6ZHr-O64T0GYytQ3ZT2CvMeS6-rd1rdMub4X4xy/s1600/Patrick.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I became enchanted with this guy and it's easy to see why. The interview revealed that Patrick was supposed to have shown up for a shoot the previous week but had failed to because he had been arrested for getting into a fight in a pub. So the interviewer (who I didn't know at that time, but who I took to be someone involved with the website) informs Patrick that he left the kind of film Patrick would shoot up to the members. Anyway, as much as I enjoyed the interview, it didn't cause me to instantly go and check out the website. I was still too afraid to do that. I was afraid it was going to be like all the other M/M sites I'd visited--in other words, gay. The interview with Patrick led me to another interview, this one with Patrick's real life older brother, Andy Lee. Andy's interview was longer and more involved and also included some clips from a few of his films. What charmed me about these interviews was the way the guys blushed when speaking about being spanked. I found their embarrassment very sweet. This was the first time I noticed that SLS was different. It was during Andy's video that I realized that the man doing the interviewing (whom we never see on camera) is actually the man who owns and runs Straight Lads Spanked. At the time this interview was done, he hadn't had his name revealed yet. So, this interview with Andy led me to actually check out the website. I was blown away by the vast amount of free content, which you don't get on most other sites. One of the free downloads was an interview with a young man named Oliver. It was his interview that caused me to see that SLS is completely different than any other M/M website I'd ever been on. It was obvious from the interview with Oliver that there's a relationship between the SLS owner and the guys he employs as models. I'll list the differences I saw numerically:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">1) None of the guys at SLS are spankos. They don't make the videos because they have a spanking fetish. They make the videos initially for the money. But then they return because Dave (the website owner) is such a nice guy and because each guy has their own fans. It's making those fans happy that keeps them coming back. I should add that Dave absolutely refuses to hire guys who are desperate for money, such as guys about to be evicted or who are homeless. He feels that these are temporary situations and he's afraid that once the guy gets the problem taken care of, he'll regret having made the movie.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">2) There is absolutely no sexual touching amongst the lads or with Dave. There's nothing at all overtly sexual in the videos (except when the occasional act of masturbation is filmed and then, it's never seen going to its logical conclusion). Yes, you see the lads naked and yes, you see their penises but there's never any mention of it or any sexual talk at all.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">3) The guys really are straight guys.They are regular guys with regular jobs and girlfriends. Most of them turn handsprings to keep their families and girlfriends from finding out what they do (more on that later).</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">4) There's a trust and a friendship between Dave and the guys. They aren't just paid models. Dave has helped some of them get jobs, given them money when they were broke and helped them out of other scrapes as well. I'm not saying that models on other sites don't have trust and friendship, but on the M/M sites I've been on, it doesn't come across.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">5) The videos almost always have a highly moral tone to them. Whether Dave is portraying the "Dad" character or the character of the community spanker, Mr. X, he always makes it clear that the SLS world is one where people respect each other. Quite a few of the videos have a scenario where a mother or girlfriend is disrespected in some way and Dave makes it clear that mothers and elders are to be treated with the respect they deserve. Some of the members find this attitude "preachy" and just want to see the guys get naked and get spanked. Most of us ladies on the site (and there are a lot of us) want a build up to the spanking. Things like stealing, lying and not keeping your word aren't tolerated and are dealt with harshly. In fact, part of the charm of the website (for me, anyway) is that SLSville, as we fans call it, seems to exist outside of reality. In reality, corporal punishment has been out of the schools for more than 30 years. So there's a whole generation of people who never felt the cane or slipper at school. Things changed around the home, too because most of the young men who film for Straight Lads Spanked admit they have never been spanked before. Physical discipline used to be a very big part of the English culture and it's in that past era that SLS operates. The young men know when they arrive that a spanking is imminent. In real life, what they would earn a trip over Mr. X's knee for in SLSville, they would probably get clean away with. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Now, I mentioned that Dave plays a number of characters. The first one I saw was Mr. X. Mr. X is the "community spanker". He wears a mask (similar to an executioner's mask) because he lives in the community and if the guys knew who he was, he would get all kinds of retribution. In real life, Dave simply can't show his face on camera. He owns and runs a business and he just can't risk it. So the Mr. X character was invented to explain why the man doing the spanking is behind a mask. When the young men in the community mess up and their parents or girlfriends or employers can't or won't deal with them, they can send them to Mr. X and, for a fee, have them punished. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEnIu3mQysPh0cENqjHA4Kk8bvriwwXIWwgti9nA1NIBTzYa-nPmSQle9_yI6ACo7quYoIs18YebDRaGr5Z-GeIpGNFRdC9a6WxbkzH9v3LTVrvjW1G7PTcRjj71JQRf2EqGjge6ocyhyphenhyphenE/s1600/Adam+(rub).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="165" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEnIu3mQysPh0cENqjHA4Kk8bvriwwXIWwgti9nA1NIBTzYa-nPmSQle9_yI6ACo7quYoIs18YebDRaGr5Z-GeIpGNFRdC9a6WxbkzH9v3LTVrvjW1G7PTcRjj71JQRf2EqGjge6ocyhyphenhyphenE/s1600/Adam+(rub).jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> When he plays the "Dad" character, he wears a mask that was made here in the US by a special effects expert. Dave in real life isn't old enough to be the father of any of the guys (except maybe the youngest ones) and so he has to look older. The mask certainly does this.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYqFRGrAZ_734Zf_WwSQPD8aKhMntAvJN7Tpj94n-et85bmm1swETwEuhznzp7VV5t6icD-NOa01T26kCCcPXbUUmPSTOO1Sj55ByBzVcWhGKHeQeliAis-vTI4Fm1h10Nst1O9yoS8aLG/s1600/Andy+and+Dave.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="169" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYqFRGrAZ_734Zf_WwSQPD8aKhMntAvJN7Tpj94n-et85bmm1swETwEuhznzp7VV5t6icD-NOa01T26kCCcPXbUUmPSTOO1Sj55ByBzVcWhGKHeQeliAis-vTI4Fm1h10Nst1O9yoS8aLG/s1600/Andy+and+Dave.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The mask has its advantages and its drawbacks for both Dave and the fans. For the fans, the mask is sometimes distracting. It's obviously not an attractive look and it's probably not meant to be. It also sometimes muffles his speech and, as Dave is Scottish, he's sometimes hard to understand anyway. For Dave, wearing the mask is uncomfortable, especially in hot weather. But he doesn't have any other option for now. Maybe someday when SLS is so incredibly successful he can quit his day job he'll be able to show his face on camera. I've seen him without the mask and he's a very nice looking guy. However, there are advantages to the mask as well. Before Dave got the "Dad" mask, he had to film in such a way that his face never showed on camera. So we are left with a man with no head and the guys having to make sure that the angles capture their expressions, but not Dave's. Easier said than done, I'm afraid.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Now, last fall someone on Fetlife (that I consider a friend) posted a writing describing how "ill" Straight Lads Spanked made him. Of course, without being a member or knowing anything about the website, except possibly what he'd heard from others, his other friends jumped on the bandwagon in an effort to get the gay members of Fetlife up in arms about this website, which according to this guy, was run by a homophobic gay-hating piece of crap. He went on to talk about "gay peril" and other topics that made no sense to someone like me, who was a member. So, in an effort to inject some facts into the discussion, I very calmly informed him (and the others who were jumping on the bandwagon) that Dave lives openly as a gay man and that he makes no secret of his fetish for straight young men. I asked, in all seriousness, what sense it would make for a gay man to pour his money, his time and his blood, sweat and tears into a website just so he can promote his homophobic views. Dave is always very happy to discuss his philosophy with anyone who wants to know and so in a private message to this friend, I offered to give him Dave's email address (his public one for the website, not his private one, which I don't have) but he really wasn't interested in going on any kind of fact finding mission. He said it was offensive having the word "straight" in the website name and I offered, publicly, to poll the gay members of the site to see if any of them were offended by the site's name. No, he wasn't interested in hearing the opinions of paying members. He wanted to hear from the gay community at large, most of whom have probably never heard of Dave or his low budget website. No matter what facts I presented or how calmly I debated those facts, no one wanted my opinion and, after I schooled him, he deleted the writing. Now, I told that story just to show the misconceptions and biases that surround this simple website. It all started because a few years ago, Dave began to notice that there was a gap in the M/M spanking market for videos that had a punishment theme without the sexualization of the subject. So he did what any other enterprising person would do and he started his own website to fill that gap. Despite the fact that the website originates in the UK, it was a very American thing to do. Many gay websites openly endorse Dave and his non-gay, non-sexual spanking website. SLS has gay members, both male and female, and many gay men follow the site on Twitter. So my take on this whole thing is that the gay community at large is pretty much OK with Dave and his website. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Now I'll introduce you to some of the lads that make Straight Lads Spanked so special. Please know that, over the years, a lot of young men have come and gone (and a few have come back periodically) so I'm only going to mention guys who are actively filming. First, I want to talk about Oliver.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnWFjCDa6Lnkv8fzIT5bb0Ps68PBsNWbVf3fvzV8Qpp1H2H5t4k_u1L32kERXQOGkSgJ42Qqtj1zIJaQr8SaivbemtRySrcZu6niNeCKJqrXSN-YiDMvDAssq-sns1pSncM7JhEZdi-mQT/s1600/Oliver.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="262" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnWFjCDa6Lnkv8fzIT5bb0Ps68PBsNWbVf3fvzV8Qpp1H2H5t4k_u1L32kERXQOGkSgJ42Qqtj1zIJaQr8SaivbemtRySrcZu6niNeCKJqrXSN-YiDMvDAssq-sns1pSncM7JhEZdi-mQT/s1600/Oliver.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Oliver has done a lot for Straight Lads Spanked. He first filmed in July, 2012 so he goes back almost to the beginning of the website. He has brought his brother, Fred in to film and also has brought a lot of his friends in. He's one of the best actors on the site and he acts with his whole body, including his incredible eyes. He was the first actor (though not the last as we'll see later) to bring genuine emotion to a movie. I think that that alone should show the casual observer what kind of relationship Dave has with this models. As someone who has spent years in the spanking scene, I can assure you that genuine emotion only happens with someone you trust completely and feel comfortable with. I should also point out the obvious in that it's no easy feat getting a young man to share his vulnerability, but Oliver did that in a couple of his films and if you're a fan of real emotion, then you would have no problem being a fan of Oliver.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Next, Andy Lee. I mentioned Andy before when I was discussing his brother, Patrick. Andy, like Oliver, is a mainstay on the site. He appeared in the first thing Dave ever filmed, before he even had a website. I have no idea how they met, but Andy has shot for a ton of other adult sites and is in fact very active in the adult industry (and not just spanking). Andy has a regular job working on the oil rigs in the North Sea, super dangerous work that you have to be highly trained and in shape for.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSHtP0aOFOuWw21rUsDBflAOZG9vMJwG2SZAmsyciNmBglHsc-IFRMJR_ykB-8pEsg2iUnz8xSUfY83xfAj8v1x4haH5zIYmyKgWEA_yAOWsu6kHNIkXL7kLcQoDtfQAqy-MprGRHSzQ54/s1600/Andy+Flex.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="166" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSHtP0aOFOuWw21rUsDBflAOZG9vMJwG2SZAmsyciNmBglHsc-IFRMJR_ykB-8pEsg2iUnz8xSUfY83xfAj8v1x4haH5zIYmyKgWEA_yAOWsu6kHNIkXL7kLcQoDtfQAqy-MprGRHSzQ54/s1600/Andy+Flex.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As much as I like Andy, I think because of his size and strength he should be the one doing the spanking instead of taking it. He has spanked other lads on the site, including two of his brothers. He's divorced with a three-year-old son. I follow Andy on Twitter and he follows me. He's a charming Irish guy who can melt you, but he's also a shameless self-promoter (not that there's anything wrong with that). I've always believed that if you have it you should flaunt it. And Andy does. He's notoriously well endowed. But big dicks don't really do much for me at my age. I do love his muscles and his ink. In the interview this still was taken from, he said "hello" to me and thanked me for supporting him on Twitter.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Next, I want to talk about Karl. Karl is another one that goes back almost to the beginning. He began filming as an 18-year-old. He was brought in by his buddy, Liam whom he knew because they both boxed at the same gym. Karl isn't great with dialogue, but he can take a heck of a spanking.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2I7jxM-CY_4A-3vNXamLhAfiHTSCQTNfbPErxUvv6oUxPgTVqTMV5njbX0k7Oerixa5VVmfeAp2hiTM3wazaOnJghKwXjkHptybeyGMjnWkzoVl5lzeNdN8_thCidrACiNdHP734Q-Qd0/s1600/Karl+(belt).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="260" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2I7jxM-CY_4A-3vNXamLhAfiHTSCQTNfbPErxUvv6oUxPgTVqTMV5njbX0k7Oerixa5VVmfeAp2hiTM3wazaOnJghKwXjkHptybeyGMjnWkzoVl5lzeNdN8_thCidrACiNdHP734Q-Qd0/s1600/Karl+(belt).jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Like Oliver, Karl uses his eyes to convey what he's feeling when words fail him and they often do. The thing about Karl was that he seemed to be there one minute and gone the next. In fact, he was gone from the site for nearly two years before returning recently. In a very frank interview, he talked about serving time in jail, his bout with testicular cancer and living in his car. Many of us, who practically watched Karl grow up before our eyes, care about him and I was saddened and horrified to learn that a cancer stricken young man was living in his car (having been tossed out by his girlfriend for texting other women). As much as Karl's plight tugged at my heartstrings, there was another element to this story that made me a bit angry at him. When he got out of jail, he apparently met a young woman with two little girls. As the relationship grew and he moved in, these little girls believed that Karl was their daddy. In fact, Karl posted loving family photos of himself with the woman and her children on his Facebook page. Hopefully, Karl was able to get her to forgive him and let him move back home. </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Next, my favorite guy on the site, Wayne. Wayne is one of what I call the Four Mates (I know it sounds like a singing group). Wayne was brought to the site by his mate, Dom. The Four Mates consist of Dom, Wayne, Adam and Harry. Any combination of this quartet is bound to be a hit with fans.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGIJUi9pgmAPvMtIS1eCJbb_S8I5CDVNFVqh3sLOiBvywUogpk6A7JkaZkFhynyJZCwJ5IW6JdzlFiMLnzA1GUUZ6EqZnz4A6Ee0qVM8dU7l0zGVSPmW4FRvj0cNCKbCURJcNTyc4BgQPJ/s1600/Wayne.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="206" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGIJUi9pgmAPvMtIS1eCJbb_S8I5CDVNFVqh3sLOiBvywUogpk6A7JkaZkFhynyJZCwJ5IW6JdzlFiMLnzA1GUUZ6EqZnz4A6Ee0qVM8dU7l0zGVSPmW4FRvj0cNCKbCURJcNTyc4BgQPJ/s1600/Wayne.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">For me, Wayne is the total package--handsome, muscular, a good actor, has beautiful blue eyes, a gorgeous bottom with a tattoo on it and his pout turns me into a puddle of girl goo. His accent drives me bonkers because most of the time, I have a hard time understanding him. Wayne is what most people in England might call a "chav". Google that if you're unfamiliar with the term. Wayne's "character" on SLS is that of a young man, usually a window washer, who can't seem to resist the temptation to steal. He's been sent to Mr. X several times for stealing from customers. He's also played a young man caught smoking pot at school and a friend of Adam's who takes the blame for bringing pot into the house (see a pattern here?). </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Next, Wayne's buddy, Dom. I don't know where to start with Dom. He's probably the best actor on the site right now. He's brilliant with dialogue and has natural comedic timing. He's also pretty easy on the eyes and can take a very hard spanking. The bad news is that he marks like crazy. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjojk_yBK7qdDJ2Dz-z-mhBvjnpSYbljs-Arx7xAFaG_TyIaHUD3qkt_wkmaOlDctyJiuwSEBqUcXz1o94YdCtuP2VtH18Oq_avdBlvmvBJlTYaLzq9EPh7HtP3MSsAnORjymLJ1nJKJtp_/s1600/Dom+(now).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjojk_yBK7qdDJ2Dz-z-mhBvjnpSYbljs-Arx7xAFaG_TyIaHUD3qkt_wkmaOlDctyJiuwSEBqUcXz1o94YdCtuP2VtH18Oq_avdBlvmvBJlTYaLzq9EPh7HtP3MSsAnORjymLJ1nJKJtp_/s1600/Dom+(now).jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Besides being a terrific actor, Dom has a few other things going for him, too. He looks amazing OTK and manages to stay in character no matter how hard the spanking gets. His specialty is the "domestic" scenes though he's been to see Mr. X numerous times. Like Karl and a few others, Dom started at SLS when he was just eighteen. Of the Top Ten films on the site, Dom is in five of them. His popularity is obvious. We haven't seen anything new from him since summertime so I'm hoping he'll come back and do some more. I hate to think we've seen the last of Dom.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Next, there's Adam. Adam wasn't even on my radar before I joined. I spent a lot of time looking at the free content, including the preview videos. Adam just didn't look like anything special to me. Then, when I joined I watched his first video, which he filmed with Dom. He was perfect! He has a sweet face, lovely blue/gray eyes, blushes adorably, has cute fangs and does regretful and embarrassed better than anyone on the site. Like Karl and Dom, Adam was just eighteen when he first started shooting for SLS.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN3aP6wSTkUGazs6e7TT66I5N65V5fPJKPgoJEUFN33PSO_tCSBi9Nst4LrsAFGhHDO_TbYwKrmZM3E9_o29M2nx1hQ6OTfyCMOjuaTDIG2R18-mzxdshUG-Z9_9q3CqAuiQXPZ311-NYp/s1600/Adam+OTK.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN3aP6wSTkUGazs6e7TT66I5N65V5fPJKPgoJEUFN33PSO_tCSBi9Nst4LrsAFGhHDO_TbYwKrmZM3E9_o29M2nx1hQ6OTfyCMOjuaTDIG2R18-mzxdshUG-Z9_9q3CqAuiQXPZ311-NYp/s1600/Adam+OTK.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In this photo, you see the cute fangs and adorable blush. Adam is quirky and I like quirky. I also think it's entirely possible that on some level he likes being spanked. What I would really love is to see Adam shoot something by himself, without one of his mates with him. I'm not sure if he's shy about filming alone or what, but I would love to see it. He does the domestic scenes very well. He did a very good video with Wayne that remains a favorite of mine. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFGGrJIKDPY0IciVDa-8rbKmpKcFx8duqmI2onvBGsXQi-eknSFg0I4KJTHgtrlUYQDnR9zscdtIu6szSHV58VHwdU_o9ROqrLe8gOCRKoWX4q2th-ryBuvN5mA6VZ-A0doGDpIgD4zpVg/s1600/Wayne+and+Adam2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="135" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFGGrJIKDPY0IciVDa-8rbKmpKcFx8duqmI2onvBGsXQi-eknSFg0I4KJTHgtrlUYQDnR9zscdtIu6szSHV58VHwdU_o9ROqrLe8gOCRKoWX4q2th-ryBuvN5mA6VZ-A0doGDpIgD4zpVg/s1600/Wayne+and+Adam2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Adam and Wayne work so well together because they're real life friends. Even their girlfriends are friends with each other. Dave stated that the dialogue between Adam and Wayne that preceded the spanking in this video was the most natural exchange that he's ever seen. That happened because Adam and Wayne have known each other since they were boys. That friendship is part of the magic that happens when any of these four young men film together.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Next, the forth piece in this delicious pie, Harry. Harry came to SLS even before Dom. He was brought by his buddy, Fred, who in real life is Oliver's brother. Harry is a tough guy. Seeing him spanked is a thrilling experience for me. Like Wayne, he's muscular. He has an aura of toughness around him. Wayne shows his vulnerable side, whereas Harry just won't. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSkLHRTp1yB4Sy79NYZs4pg4CyIx0arCGQ-3eiYqYxNiT0mE5ws0xlprxZ9-JHY-ZO5mKZ4OsVOs2_ZiWNcAkloGGaiVUOq14wSL2XV37YgNlLSS0t_MYQtnRoyvD1w4qEbbgnfVvanE2l/s1600/Harry+(now).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="232" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSkLHRTp1yB4Sy79NYZs4pg4CyIx0arCGQ-3eiYqYxNiT0mE5ws0xlprxZ9-JHY-ZO5mKZ4OsVOs2_ZiWNcAkloGGaiVUOq14wSL2XV37YgNlLSS0t_MYQtnRoyvD1w4qEbbgnfVvanE2l/s1600/Harry+(now).jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Harry is a pretty cool, laid back guy. Dave said that, in the beginning, Harry had a problem getting spanked by another man. Harry comes across on film as a pretty likable bloke. He usually plays bullies and recently filmed a sequel to "Dad Found Twitter" because, in the original film with Dom, many of the high jinks listed were actually Harry's doing. That's another thing I love about SLS...the stories are often connected. I think Harry is still embarrassed about talking about spanking. I think he's perfectly OK doing it, but talking about it is a different matter. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Next, I want to talk about Paul because I find him very interesting. A few people on the website don't like Paul. Either he's too skinny or he doesn't react to his spankings strongly enough or he's not "hot" enough. Also, at 24, Paul is bit too old for some members' taste.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3MouFvGUp-EtpDgD1jyNvqs3hz0s7nNz5oehNeq4XkqVYlp_NN9yKGMOqQ4IGl7LpH9BWWxJifnlRAvKhFrl9qFcAsGWnWL04Bxk9h8wY3Zx3-t-pBo-xdmnezkFbD-5xFcLQA0t-_INS/s1600/Paul.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="170" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3MouFvGUp-EtpDgD1jyNvqs3hz0s7nNz5oehNeq4XkqVYlp_NN9yKGMOqQ4IGl7LpH9BWWxJifnlRAvKhFrl9qFcAsGWnWL04Bxk9h8wY3Zx3-t-pBo-xdmnezkFbD-5xFcLQA0t-_INS/s1600/Paul.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And Paul, although he's not my type physically, is exactly what I love about Straight Lads Spanked. Dave gives us a nice mix of different kinds of guys. No, Paul isn't a muscular "hottie". We have Andy and Wayne and Harry for that. Paul marches to his own drummer and that's what I like about him. He used to be in the Army and hearing him say "Yes, sir!" you get that right away. He's cheeky and defiant and some people don't like that. His personality demands that you conquer him on his own terms. Paul showed up for his first shoot in Spongebob underwear so I liked him right away. I sincerely hope that Dave brings Paul back so that we get to see him again. I would hate to think that Paul doesn't come back because no one liked him.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Next, I want to discuss Dean, a newcomer to SLS. He's nineteen and just shot his first two movies about the time I joined last September. Paul is interesting because he's the first mixed-race guy that I've seen on the site. That doesn't mean that his ethnicity drives the story. It's never been discussed. I just happened to notice it.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH08YBzug0u-_dtpfZxLGsQzAYjC6WRBRjGpHQG2wSLkNhXTnTNyAFtI0cLkUhxcFNZE-VW4fRB-4IRaQXV3smmTwkpwhlTIFlqrK624eal0kf3xOHL-zLqm3N8gJ2m80JSJG1wSGxDGZ_/s1600/Dean.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="204" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH08YBzug0u-_dtpfZxLGsQzAYjC6WRBRjGpHQG2wSLkNhXTnTNyAFtI0cLkUhxcFNZE-VW4fRB-4IRaQXV3smmTwkpwhlTIFlqrK624eal0kf3xOHL-zLqm3N8gJ2m80JSJG1wSGxDGZ_/s1600/Dean.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Like Paul, there are some people on the website who aren't fond of Dean. I rather like him. He's slim but with a muscular build (rather like Dom) and he's fantastic when it comes to dialogue. Not only does he ad-lib well, but I can understand him. He may have been to the States or something because, while his accent is pronounced, he speaks clearly. I also love his tattoos, which I can't read to save my life. Dean is also demonstrative when it comes to his reactions. That doesn't mean that he screams and wriggles all over the place, but he just lets you know that whatever just happened to him hurt...like a lot. In this first video, I thought he was going to hyperventilate. Anyway, time will tell as to how long Dean's career at SLS lasts.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Next, we have Jay. Jay is one of those guys who goes way back with SLS. He left for a while and when he returned, it was with a bang. He had slimmed down and toned up and he looked fabulous. Not that he looked bad before, mind you, but he just looked better.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaEMgqUeLqCaC46sK00Xx_KOQYwaSvSLu9JxRLiqXlzDjFpB2mDeC7ztHA-8rRXnMb97W2NMx8cRk_0m4-8GVe_WoSSqStPR5wJaleB4BkabJEajFx0595SNGvzbyJun7Kfx_8nYDI8_5B/s1600/Jay+(now).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="299" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaEMgqUeLqCaC46sK00Xx_KOQYwaSvSLu9JxRLiqXlzDjFpB2mDeC7ztHA-8rRXnMb97W2NMx8cRk_0m4-8GVe_WoSSqStPR5wJaleB4BkabJEajFx0595SNGvzbyJun7Kfx_8nYDI8_5B/s1600/Jay+(now).jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'll be honest and say I never used to care that much for Jay, despite his obvious beauty. He was one of those guys that I always felt overreacts to his spankings. Not that his reactions are fake, mind you. Dave truly only wants to film the models' real and honest reactions and Jay has a very low pain tolerance. However, his last two movies have been gems. He plays a young man banned from competing in martial arts competitions because he was caught using illegal enhancements. His last movie, in which he finally goes home to his father after being gone for three weeks is a total tearjerker, something you simply don't get with most other M/M sites. I commended both Jay and Dave for their parts in that movie. Jay showed he has improved on dialogue substantially. I'm looking forward to more from Jay, though I hope he doesn't leave his cheeky character behind. Even though I don't care for his dramatics in some of his other movies, it's the fact that we get variety with Jay that sets him apart.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">OK, those are some of the guys who shoot for the website. I deliberately showed most of them not getting spanked because I want you folks to see their faces. In this section, I'm going to show how great they look naked. Nudity doesn't have to be sexual, let me say that right off the bat. I have a great appreciation for the nude form, whether it be men or women. I think bare skin is the most beautiful thing in the world. So for me, seeing an attractive young man without his clothes on doesn't immediately get me all hot and bothered. But I do love it when I see it done tastefully. Dave uses nudity in the Mr. X films to add to the guys' embarrassment. If it was just about the pain, the "punishments" wouldn't be nearly as effective. Getting put over a man's knee when you're a young man yourself isn't easy for most of these lads, but they say it gets easier the more they do it. And I want to point out that Dave doesn't do all the spanking at SLS. The lads have made films where, for various reasons, they spank each other. But here's a sampling so that you get an idea of the nudity on the group and why you still have to be 18 to be a member.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBigKGGp5KyD2v3q-QCd6K8HiD0sn94voEr6_SzldOP9QTLNPUCQrnmJoqJX-57L0BnBjj8YRy4fuGYykO5UDlTlBvw9-1Ki9QvbIdVZO83YwFFsJBHxrKs_lGklIAKqqU0cLJbY6pcetE/s1600/Adam+OTK2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="137" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBigKGGp5KyD2v3q-QCd6K8HiD0sn94voEr6_SzldOP9QTLNPUCQrnmJoqJX-57L0BnBjj8YRy4fuGYykO5UDlTlBvw9-1Ki9QvbIdVZO83YwFFsJBHxrKs_lGklIAKqqU0cLJbY6pcetE/s1600/Adam+OTK2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Here's Adam in his very first video, which he shot with Dom. Adam, as you can see, not only looks great OTK, but he looks great in the raw, too. He's got pale skin so he gets red easily and he has a very cute, slightly furry bottom. I love this photo because not only is his bottom red, but his other cheeks blush so sweetly. It's that blush that I talked about before.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU0fJOo1UudfN7bTPJmOaN99mPmvCCSWA_YGQQDJj8YGcUG2rtsPhgtBDUZraP5MsdErn2dgALCdVd0QxkCyY_0vJWPW-iaPkhKTFbpZiiawvIrM_8WJS5m9FkEWfgmbwA7OzD7MHXkuKh/s1600/Glen+(naked).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="169" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU0fJOo1UudfN7bTPJmOaN99mPmvCCSWA_YGQQDJj8YGcUG2rtsPhgtBDUZraP5MsdErn2dgALCdVd0QxkCyY_0vJWPW-iaPkhKTFbpZiiawvIrM_8WJS5m9FkEWfgmbwA7OzD7MHXkuKh/s1600/Glen+(naked).jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Here's Glen, a cute 26-year-old Aussie guy. I didn't put him in the other section because he's only made one film so far. I have a thing for guys with nice quads (that would be thigh muscles for those of you who aren't familiar with that term) and Glen's are first rate. His bottom also gets nice and red. Hopefully, Glen will be back.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ3-xIzJUg6D8LJ-HR4e6xQQjVancadOA9WU-xIGRQIA8TmWv6YY3MMxVhKuTOg6_wKv6nMoZEO8S8SBgY2h5ItMIHUi0wBUPQ8mQn8cwVYcSTlewRresmuwO_10C_2CcUfc-RM7qhdZGR/s1600/Adam+and+Harry.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="132" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ3-xIzJUg6D8LJ-HR4e6xQQjVancadOA9WU-xIGRQIA8TmWv6YY3MMxVhKuTOg6_wKv6nMoZEO8S8SBgY2h5ItMIHUi0wBUPQ8mQn8cwVYcSTlewRresmuwO_10C_2CcUfc-RM7qhdZGR/s1600/Adam+and+Harry.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Here's two naked guys for the price of one...Adam spanking his mate, Harry in the wheelbarrow position. This occurred in one of the Spank Jenga rounds. I mentioned before that the guys sometimes spank each other and this is one of those times, during a game or contest. Harry has lost and getting spanked by his mates in this revealing position was his forfeit. Harry got a bit annoyed, but you have to admit he looks very attractive in this position.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUduc89_Cb4Y0BQkq7hbbtA7I7cxUhsfe_PUfEHVW2_aWW3A7O3WzMelRbxGrFcHMhSERa-YUrfsaIB7RmmKXsqDgX2gw1Xv_52V_WT8uPXOlbjEJ4H4NrDzgqxOOaHeAvioTeJGJBmtOJ/s1600/Dom+(naked).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="158" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUduc89_Cb4Y0BQkq7hbbtA7I7cxUhsfe_PUfEHVW2_aWW3A7O3WzMelRbxGrFcHMhSERa-YUrfsaIB7RmmKXsqDgX2gw1Xv_52V_WT8uPXOlbjEJ4H4NrDzgqxOOaHeAvioTeJGJBmtOJ/s1600/Dom+(naked).jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Here's Dom being spanked naked by Mr. X. When he made his first film, like many as an 18-year-old, a few on the website criticized him as too skinny and too pale, despite his obvious acting talent. Lo and behold, Dom emerged for his next shoot with a nice tan and some very nice muscle definition. He looks gorgeous OTK, don't you agree?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1JDTURy3JGnfcKYjQk_12qYrj2uGDvzbRoSpjA69WaridYAn_7U3KJN57uzf1PXj4lyPjW7ZcDU-uS1HPcsb8jZ2kXXHtkPMSZoPWskY5oh4C66FRO7dYxlIAlxkH1XCt1lQi6mv-C6NH/s1600/Harry+(naked).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="140" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1JDTURy3JGnfcKYjQk_12qYrj2uGDvzbRoSpjA69WaridYAn_7U3KJN57uzf1PXj4lyPjW7ZcDU-uS1HPcsb8jZ2kXXHtkPMSZoPWskY5oh4C66FRO7dYxlIAlxkH1XCt1lQi6mv-C6NH/s1600/Harry+(naked).jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Here's Harry, also being spanked naked by Mr. X for being a bully. Harry has a lot going for him, including awesome quads and a round smooth bottom that gets really red. Even though he's forcing Dave to deal with his arm here, don't doubt for one second who the stronger of the two is here. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqtHqNmHYQSMtqXRmv0WTvZvui4Fqb0MwzoUexH92nbFl6LL7T9_KQWhSGEw4uyOIfN4QODq-dksIlasi0DzlUSd1OFQwnh8zIWgUGNFrA4eYYYBP4I_9NCdypZQ5_9WGNLQ5mbQwTnW_w/s1600/Parker+(naked).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="156" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqtHqNmHYQSMtqXRmv0WTvZvui4Fqb0MwzoUexH92nbFl6LL7T9_KQWhSGEw4uyOIfN4QODq-dksIlasi0DzlUSd1OFQwnh8zIWgUGNFrA4eYYYBP4I_9NCdypZQ5_9WGNLQ5mbQwTnW_w/s1600/Parker+(naked).jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This is the delightful Parker, seen here getting sorted out by Mr. X for being a bully at the bank where he works. I didn't introduce Parker because I don't know if he'll be back. I hope he does more filming because he was terrific with dialogue, was cheeky and had a ton of attitude and also his adorable bottom gets a cute shade of red. Oh, and Parker kicks his feet.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWuzKEKJolA30eIu2PrjNPGZ11__G_Gv4sk6XAkoCwogPsXRyte19INrBrt1pC4VNVx85WXdPfN7SlmhpaKwwlwKh5FgsuZDPGet7bEk-3R7cl1bVed3TFOT4HdnPjZXvTZlpD1IluIUFr/s1600/Tommy+(naked).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="131" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWuzKEKJolA30eIu2PrjNPGZ11__G_Gv4sk6XAkoCwogPsXRyte19INrBrt1pC4VNVx85WXdPfN7SlmhpaKwwlwKh5FgsuZDPGet7bEk-3R7cl1bVed3TFOT4HdnPjZXvTZlpD1IluIUFr/s1600/Tommy+(naked).jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This lovely lad is Tommy. Unfortunately, Tommy doesn't shoot for Straight Lads Spanked anymore. But he was gorgeous, take my word for it. He was a big, beefy guy (and a leg kicker too so that's a plus) with lovely baby blues. When it comes to guys who have moved on, I just sigh and wonder "what if?" </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqmjjEA1LDuw0QGoSpKsKAXJQSrNutsLyU4HasllZ7sDaUmj-ETWDIVOlICKPUEEEHIqBH0CK_Wupz7Xh3xkXilH5o7O8uBuzy5Rhfi6gdiWdBPxFEmZN2Hx1MHxjXHh6U7UMpx9nveJkF/s1600/Adam+and+Wayne.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="136" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqmjjEA1LDuw0QGoSpKsKAXJQSrNutsLyU4HasllZ7sDaUmj-ETWDIVOlICKPUEEEHIqBH0CK_Wupz7Xh3xkXilH5o7O8uBuzy5Rhfi6gdiWdBPxFEmZN2Hx1MHxjXHh6U7UMpx9nveJkF/s1600/Adam+and+Wayne.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">These lovely bottoms belong to Adam and Wayne. They're about to get the belt because they got caught with pot and helped themselves to "Dad's" rum. Now you can see that their bottoms are already red. That's because they have already been hand spanked. The next picture will help explain why Adam's bottom looks so much worse than Wayne's, even though Wayne has bruises that are healing up (from doing a film where he gets the bath brush just the week before).</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmRS1ubZah3pmFLtz6LabkBGdOOPGjnrPlS7WchYve6H1i9FxfSW0jUb7OzM3pyrt-lggeYxjKB0PJvfYA5jb3IC42zogo3kVHmrryDleJE_iSfHsuUb275jigYCeN_22vme4oyxSyFKX_/s1600/Wayne+and+Adam.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="137" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmRS1ubZah3pmFLtz6LabkBGdOOPGjnrPlS7WchYve6H1i9FxfSW0jUb7OzM3pyrt-lggeYxjKB0PJvfYA5jb3IC42zogo3kVHmrryDleJE_iSfHsuUb275jigYCeN_22vme4oyxSyFKX_/s1600/Wayne+and+Adam.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Wayne and Adam engage in a spanking competition, which Wayne won. Adam's poor bottom was absolutely a mess when Wayne got done with him, showing that Wayne can dish it out as well as take it. Adam did finally give in and I don't blame him. As an incentive to win, Dave always gives the winner twice as much money as the loser. Some site members don't like these competitions because they're so much into the "punishment" aspect that they can't lighten up and enjoy the fun of seeing two straight friends spank each other for money.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgisrBN7tUM-tJOfjaWTGIU_-vPqjlEehJTVKL9hqqYKD8xXIFxRllj0FfwIOePxlSz4BrHbBoMJR8-SKp6BBPJ0u94Ua_m_JJI7q2HxFX9p3txqTjKNL-3FGVMPUFQIDtxCo4CvGqyA7Ic/s1600/Andy+and+Dan.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="146" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgisrBN7tUM-tJOfjaWTGIU_-vPqjlEehJTVKL9hqqYKD8xXIFxRllj0FfwIOePxlSz4BrHbBoMJR8-SKp6BBPJ0u94Ua_m_JJI7q2HxFX9p3txqTjKNL-3FGVMPUFQIDtxCo4CvGqyA7Ic/s1600/Andy+and+Dan.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This is why I love Andy as a spanker. Few of the lads are big enough to take him on. The "victim" here is Andy's younger brother, Dan. Dan was a very bad boy...he got caught selling drugs. What I love most about this scene with Andy and Dan is the size difference between the two. Dan looks like a child over Andy's knee. Right after this was shot, Dave did an interview with both Andy and Dan where Dan called Andy a c&^t. Dan had just turned eighteen a few days earlier so I'm sure Andy took Dan out for a drink, man to man to make up for it.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHGHCMjZ2_nod1-h-9_WfePqLGtpqxuTWoGppqHgyhGVc01aql_w1eC-3fI1upYQhLFrkVwBSh9cUu2Gr13S5E8AXdJVvBT3txWgoo0ybt6pzZEn3HBPj-WvaJEMTDKmjcGb6tPuRMzxm1/s1600/Wayne+(naked).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="134" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHGHCMjZ2_nod1-h-9_WfePqLGtpqxuTWoGppqHgyhGVc01aql_w1eC-3fI1upYQhLFrkVwBSh9cUu2Gr13S5E8AXdJVvBT3txWgoo0ybt6pzZEn3HBPj-WvaJEMTDKmjcGb6tPuRMzxm1/s1600/Wayne+(naked).jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Yes, I know I've shown Wayne before, but not OTK. This was his first shoot and that's Dom standing off to the side. To me, Wayne is like <i>Bazinga!</i> He's absolutely the perfect male spanking model. The tattoo on his bottom reads "I Heart Will And Dom". Dom paid for the tattoo and I think getting it on his bottom was part of a drunken dare. I always warn people about being inked under the influence. Don't do it.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">While I agree that there's nudity (and a lot of it frontal) there's also moments of friendship and caring, not just with Dave but among the lads themselves. Some of these moments can only be described as heartwarming.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid8fYymYY8E0juQvJPDvphlkM8qAQu9UwcmJ1vqwACiHvCAwNa5RZFK6CAvqrNcn2gCTuDCpx5vnUBv6ZkG7B-CjDDdRVA2E6VNuJzZZMmtr7mrm_fL6NM-jgu-8zR7_uoDXqwOgIyZA4s/s1600/Karl+and+Daisy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="181" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid8fYymYY8E0juQvJPDvphlkM8qAQu9UwcmJ1vqwACiHvCAwNa5RZFK6CAvqrNcn2gCTuDCpx5vnUBv6ZkG7B-CjDDdRVA2E6VNuJzZZMmtr7mrm_fL6NM-jgu-8zR7_uoDXqwOgIyZA4s/s1600/Karl+and+Daisy.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Now, I ask you, who doesn't just love a boy and a dog? This is Karl and Dave's puppy, Daisy in "Broken Curfew". Notice that Karl is wearing a pajama shirt over his clothes because he's going to sneak out of the house and he's exhorting Daisy to keep mum about it. Who among us didn't try this at least once? I'd like to hear from anyone who managed to get away with it.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Many times, Dave has the lads portraying themselves as "on the outs" as they say, meaning that they aren't getting along for some reason. Many of the scenarios involve problems with girlfriends or falling out over some other stupid thing. Here, Adam and Dom shake hands and make up after they accused each other of stealing money they both took.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivdBALrWrc0x2rCvkHmTPH3HDT2KnPAtHnoS-ZVsoZW9N4GgkS3TF7ZhPMwQ1_u-haSCiPh6-Sit4ZmjlSnv3i6V39ceJwPaBNBOlRF67DDidw9SzCeDPXAUJHtuDHYXvVmPJfOiYA8Nym/s1600/Handshake.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="209" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivdBALrWrc0x2rCvkHmTPH3HDT2KnPAtHnoS-ZVsoZW9N4GgkS3TF7ZhPMwQ1_u-haSCiPh6-Sit4ZmjlSnv3i6V39ceJwPaBNBOlRF67DDidw9SzCeDPXAUJHtuDHYXvVmPJfOiYA8Nym/s1600/Handshake.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Even though Adam is obviously more enthusiastic about the handshake than Dom, you can tell by Dom's expression that all is forgiven. This was Adam's first film and I thought he was wonderful in it. Of course, Dom is always fantastic, but I really thought Adam stole the show from him. I think it's sweet though that Dom is shaking Adam's hand with one hand and rubbing his bottom with the other. Oh, the bottom rubs...I could do a whole other post about those. </span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1VOnxTZCbxT6qFGezi7YoH_-KVzg42hR5NcMAULzDUuOpxNDexIm7UsoIAaV1fyb3EGG6od-8ArhMnogw-a_9guNhWcbXailzQJacO36yk0K9ESHCmyE3n9Fo2HAkKhkK572QKiLto3BB/s1600/Dan.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="190" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1VOnxTZCbxT6qFGezi7YoH_-KVzg42hR5NcMAULzDUuOpxNDexIm7UsoIAaV1fyb3EGG6od-8ArhMnogw-a_9guNhWcbXailzQJacO36yk0K9ESHCmyE3n9Fo2HAkKhkK572QKiLto3BB/s1600/Dan.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In this photo, big tough Andy Lee tenderly tucks his younger brother, Dan back into bed after pulling the covers off him and spanking the snot out of him. What other site gives you scenes like this? None that I know of. The fact that Andy and Dan are real life brothers makes this even sweeter. Andy even says "I love you" to him before leaving. I have been on tons of M/M sites and I can guarantee you I never heard "I love you" in any of them. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Domestic scenes lend themselves well to this kind of affection. The next clip I'm about to discuss is still number one on the Top Ten. It stars Oliver as a young man who's sunk about as low as a man can sink. He cheated on his pregnant girlfriend, had to move back home and in an attempt to get some money to sort out a legal problem, he steals his mother's engagement ring and pawns it. This movie is nearly an hour long and that alone should make it popular, but it's the standout performance of Oliver as the poor sod down on his luck that got members all excited. Oliver takes over half an hour of hard spanking, much of it with a bath brush that leaves him bruised and sobbing. Afterward, there's some brief dialogue where Dad tells Oliver how much he and his mother love him. Before he leaves, Dad does this:</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwSN9cqHf6ZdVmkmH5K69Zoru8MCjrrk8K5K_i2raRxmocOfBlSleWMelYXt4Opy_5MRF_r7AyiOkYKUeF-_EwpK1XAPCrgp6JXMkfCNPNjaShRS032394GfYSHLLaiX9pmKwxvCzlBk0Y/s1600/Oliver.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="131" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwSN9cqHf6ZdVmkmH5K69Zoru8MCjrrk8K5K_i2raRxmocOfBlSleWMelYXt4Opy_5MRF_r7AyiOkYKUeF-_EwpK1XAPCrgp6JXMkfCNPNjaShRS032394GfYSHLLaiX9pmKwxvCzlBk0Y/s1600/Oliver.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A head rub is always cool for me. "Dad" had already rubbed cream on his bottom to sooth it. I should mention that the Bath Brush Beating films are always Mr. X films. This was the first time it had been used in a domestic scene. After that hard beating, I think Oliver wanted some assurance that it was over and this is how Dave showed it.</span></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Two weeks ago, we hit the mother lode. Jay plays a martial artist disgraced by being caught doping in a competition. He spends three weeks away from home, too ashamed to face his father. When he does return, racked with remorse and completely humiliated, he starts crying before any spanking even takes place. This was the forth installment of this particular series and Jay was heavily into his character by this time. I think it's highly likely that Jay brought some kind of emotional turmoil to the character. He begs his father to punish him for the shame he's brought on the family and a reluctant "Dad" does so. When it's all over, <i>eureka</i>, we get the "big moment"...Jay reaches out to Dave and the two embrace as Jay sobs and even Dave chokes up.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixTJb2eBG5o4Ov7DXvJc2C0_2UkvlKfXoKI9ur_HyjvaxO7Vp3aiD-3KdoKYr0N4uyBwnLQz1_2lhfv7ERSwReOAQhTMgBLTUNyQiwoSFZ0ai4n4m2xGDlpwZonm_0lQeEuxQDQD1O5EtM/s1600/Hug.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="211" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixTJb2eBG5o4Ov7DXvJc2C0_2UkvlKfXoKI9ur_HyjvaxO7Vp3aiD-3KdoKYr0N4uyBwnLQz1_2lhfv7ERSwReOAQhTMgBLTUNyQiwoSFZ0ai4n4m2xGDlpwZonm_0lQeEuxQDQD1O5EtM/s1600/Hug.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I guess I'll close this post by reiterating that there is nothing disgusting or sleazy about the movies that Dave makes for Straight Lads Spanked. Yes, we occasionally get the physical goodies (especially if Andy is involved) but more often than not, it's the emotional aspect, even in the Mr. X films, that ends up being what members love most. I should add that, because Dave is such a presence on the website and answers our questions and takes our recommendations to heart, we all feel great affection for Dave. I'm an ocean apart from him and even I love the guy. It's easy to see why his models love and respect him. And there's nothing sleazy about that.</span></div>
Cherylhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10092104839626502119noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3093759595584573218.post-38330815351689345362015-02-08T14:51:00.001-08:002015-02-08T14:51:57.392-08:00"You've Been A Bad Girl!" or Perceptions On Punishment<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">One of my all-time favorite bloggers opened a thread on her Fetlife group asking about "just because" spankings. Her post was very thought provoking, at least for me. My response to her questions were pretty brief and to the point, even though there was more I wanted to say on the subject. Unfortunately, I've learned that my opinions aren't really welcomed on Fetlife so I confine them to the pages of this blog. Her question involved not only "just because" spankings (which I happen to love) but also asked, for people that are living with a spanker or D-type, how they felt about the fact that they usually keep tabs on behavior in order to discipline at a later time. First of all, the thought of someone taking note of things I do in order to call me to account for it later doesn't sit very well with me. I understand that there are those who like and need that kind of structure in their lives. I can even understand someone enjoying it as a fetish. But...not everyone is on the same page when it comes to such behaviors. I probably should have covered this in my previous post because a lot of people come into the spanking scene thinking that punishment spankings and discipline spankings and maintenance spankings are what "everyone" does. I believed that, once upon a time. You see, when I first joined the spanking scene, my first order of business (besides going out and pantie shopping) was getting in touch with other female bottoms to get some idea of "how it's done", not realizing that there IS no one way to do it. My first mistake was thinking that these ladies were merely bottoms like I was. It wasn't until later, after I had observed their behavior at parties, that I realized that most of them were submissives and that I had been led down a road I had no real desire to go down. One of those ladies advised me to get a disciplinarian because "it can't be fun all the time". She even suggested a man for the job; a friend of hers who was into punishment that the tagline surrounding him was "whatever Mr. Miller wants, Mr. Miller gets". Well, I have to admit that I liked this guy. I'd played with him at a few parties and I enjoyed his company so what could it hurt? My sister and I both were trying to quit smoking and every other way had failed. Maybe this way would work? So we entered into an agreement with this guy. He didn't insist that we not smoke at all right off the bat. The arrangement was that we had to tell him how much we were smoking. If we decreased from the previous "report" we got good girl spankings. If we increased, we got punishment spankings. His punishments were severe I'll add right here. He had a very menacing razor strap and he used that for punishment along with a thick rubber strap that his girlfriend had christened "Mother F*&#%r". And it was! You had to bend over a chair and he would give you 75 full arm swings with the razor strap with no warm up. He always gave me the option to safe out anytime I felt it was too much for me. My sister got the same consideration. Now, I know some people who read this are going to get their panties in a bunch because they don't believe that safe words are appropriate during a punishment spanking. However, I will not get spanked under any circumstances without one so that's that. And he didn't like working without safe words either. Turns out, I never did safe out. And believe me, the punishments were hard, even for a masochist like me.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiegTMwILHcWVJt0QDkun6j6HeV8ntQHJQwBvl0nNon6jt6i6SlYCLQL-fOVaw39qH8OZr0mJ8oNxS40ZOoSGJQQiEGVvAq6fkDDZ38ZmziySMd09KUWfdQqWPUscLdYqWyVAST0TTmEEqG/s1600/Punished.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiegTMwILHcWVJt0QDkun6j6HeV8ntQHJQwBvl0nNon6jt6i6SlYCLQL-fOVaw39qH8OZr0mJ8oNxS40ZOoSGJQQiEGVvAq6fkDDZ38ZmziySMd09KUWfdQqWPUscLdYqWyVAST0TTmEEqG/s1600/Punished.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This photo was taken following a typical punishment. Before he took the photo, he had to wipe all the blood off. I realize he could have just taken the picture with the blood, but that wasn't something either of us was into. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As we went along in our relationship, a funny thing began to happen. Not only was this guy our disciplinarian, but he was a play partner as well and Carol and I always looked forward to getting together with him. But, as time went on, I began to feel a bit of animosity towards him. I realized that my attitude wasn't right. I wasn't making any real effort to quit smoking. The punishments, as unpleasant as they sometimes were, weren't proving any kind of deterrent to my smoking. I really liked playing with this guy though. So one day, the three of us sat down and talked about what we wanted to accomplish, something we should have done before all of this started. He finally decided to break our agreement because, as he said, we would both quit smoking when we were ready to. He said we hadn't really taken the agreement seriously and he was right. I only entered into the agreement because someone else told me that was how it was done. It was the first really valuable lesson I learned in my journey. So now I tell newbies to just do what feels right and don't listen to what anyone else says. Take advice when you need to, of course, but don't let anyone tell you "it can't be fun all the time" if that's not how you feel about it. Don't let anyone tell you that you do it wrong because they don't do it the way you do it. Don't bow down to peer pressure.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Now, this entry isn't to demonize folks who do punishment spankings as part of their dynamic. Far from it, actually. I think everyone has to do things the way that makes them happiest and fulfills them. But...there seems to be a prevailing attitude in the scene that punishment spankings are automatically part of the scene. I get messages from men all the time, both newbie and experienced, who ask me what I do for punishment. When I tell them I don't do punishments, they are shocked, as if the thought never occurred to them that there are bottoms out there who just play for fun. I always ask them "What's so unusual about that? Did you expect everyone to be the same?" I think the problem is that so many people, both tops and bottoms, come into the scene having done nothing but watch spanking videos and read spanking erotica. So the assumption is that, if this is what's being shown and written about, it must be the norm. Now don't get me wrong here. Video producers have to do what sells and that means that normally, there needs to be some kind of build up to the spanking. You can't just turn on the lights, get the players into position and then turn on the camera. A misbehavior/punishment scenario is one most of us can relate to. You see, when a person first decides to get active in the spanking scene, the only thing they have to draw on is their past experiences. And for most of us, that was punishments we received as children, coupled with seeing spankings on TV and in the movies. And those always involve a punishment scenario of some kind. From there, it's just a Pavlovian response. So when many people decide to start spanking or getting spanked themselves, this is what they know. So they assume it's the way things are. Assumptions aren't capital offenses and we shouldn't treat a person who's ignorance of the scene causes him or her to make those assumptions like pariahs. We should educate them so that they know not to continue to make those assumptions.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So...how do we do that without making it look like we're being judgmental jerks? Well, as with most things kink related, good communication is paramount. I just tell the men (and some women) who want to spank me that punishment spankings aren't my cup of tea. I say it without the recoil that you sometimes see when someone mentions a kink you're not into ("Ewwwww!!" "creepy!" "You're a sicko!"). Of course, I've been told by more than one D-type that I'm just in denial about my "need" for discipline. When that happens, then I feel I'm no longer obligated to be nice because now they're making a back door attempt to push their kink on me. And that's an assumption,too--that the female bottoms in the scene are so pliable that we can be bent in any direction those D-types want us to go. Not true. The "you're in denial" accusation is peer pressure bordering on bullying and if there's one thing I can't stand, it's a bully. Peer pressure, just like it was in high school, is alive and well in the spanking scene. "Everyone does it this way" is an attitude that I allowed to dictate to me what I should and shouldn't do. That didn't last long, believe me. I have always had my own thoughts and opinions about things. In fact, my mother often told me I was too clever for my own good because I was always thinking as a child and that didn't change once I reached adulthood. People who can think for themselves are somewhat rare in this world, never mind the spanking scene. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Some people view me as a breath of fresh air, some view me as a bore. And some, believe it or not, are hostile to me. Ah well, I can't change any one's mind. I'll just continue to be myself. Some will love that, some won't. But just know that just because you're a spanko and in the scene doesn't mean you do it wrong if you're not into punishments. It doesn't make you vanilla, as some have accused me of. It just means that you do things a bit differently. And that's OK.</span>Cherylhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10092104839626502119noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3093759595584573218.post-3126843978433920982015-02-04T21:43:00.001-08:002015-02-04T21:43:07.562-08:00Myth vs. Reality<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Author's Note: Today's entry involves me trying to sort the differences between myths that exist in the spanking scene vs. the truth. This is my truth only. I make no claims to speak for anyone else. If you're looking for your own reality, you'll have to do that yourself. Although I'll try to be sensitive, some of the language could get a bit, shall we say, salty.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Let's be honest. There are a lot of myths in the spanking world. These are views perpetuated not only by the preponderance of spanking porn and erotic literature (thanks, <em>50 Shades</em>), but also by people's own notions based on consuming these products. Unfortunately, the myths are self-perpetuating. Whenever someone makes an attempt to explode these myths, people get on the defensive. So I thought, speaking only for myself, I would try to dispel some of these myths. In my opinion, they're harmful to the scene as a whole and to people as individuals. So, here we go. Better have your earplugs handy. This could get loud.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><strong>Myth # 1</strong></span><br />
<strong><span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span></strong>
<strong><span style="font-family: Arial;">Spanking is sex.</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span></strong>
<span style="font-family: Arial;">I have no idea how this one got started or why it still exists. I guess some people don't know the difference between being smacked on the ass and having one of your holes screwed. OK, I admit that spanking has a sexual component. It feels good and you take your pants off to do it, for crying out loud. And for a lot of us, spanking IS part of our sexuality. But it is NOT sex. Sex means someone's dick is in me. Unless I'm being penetrated, it's not sex. Someone else might have a different opinion, but it's just that--an opinion. Many people also can't separate the two and can't even think of doing one without the other. All well and good for you, mate but don't pretend to speak for all of us, OK? I can do spanking just fine without sex. In fact, I prefer to keep the two separate. So let's review: getting smacked on the ass, no matter how hot and bothered it makes you, isn't sex. It can certainly lead to it, but it's not sex. I know people who use spanking as foreplay, but in my mind, they aren't what I would call "hardwired" spankos. They're definitely kinky, but not a spanko by my definition.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><strong>Myth # 2</strong></span><br />
<strong><span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span></strong>
<strong><span style="font-family: Arial;">Spanking is effective for changing behavior in adults.</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span></strong>
<span style="font-family: Arial;">This one annoys me like almost nothing else. Fetlife and other kink sites are filled with discussions about how all you really need is a tough, no-nonsense dom-type to administer tough, no-nonsense spankings and you can quit smoking, lose weight, get out of debt and any of the other myriad human conditions spanking is supposed to "cure". Spanking is effective with children because their brains are still forming and they haven't had enough life experience to know not to do stupid things. In adults, the brain is fully formed and the personality fully realized. And we've had enough life experience to know that doing stupid things brings natural consequences. The notion that you can spank an addiction (such as cigarettes or food) out of someone is ludicrous on its face. An addicted person will do whatever they have to do to get that fix. The threat of a spanking is a small price to pay. A person who's addicted must WANT to quit. And in that area, it's possible that spankings for rewards might work as a motivator for someone to whom spanking is pleasurable. I see one bottom person after another posting about how their dom-type is helping them with their laziness and procrastination. I guess I can see that working, again using reward spankings as a motivator. But using punishment spankings on an adult in order to get them to do things differently? Not effective in the long term in my opinion.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><strong>Myth # 3</strong></span><br />
<strong><span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span></strong>
<strong><span style="font-family: Arial;">M/F spanking reinforces traditional gender roles that are unhealthy in a modern society.</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span></strong>
<span style="font-family: Arial;">OK, I'll play along with this one. I'm a straight female and I love getting spanked by men. I admit it...gleefully. If you listen to new wave feminists, whose radical sisters once proclaimed that ALL sex was rape, getting spanked by a man simply perpetuates the patriarchal society that so many people worked so hard to topple. After all, it wasn't that long ago when there were laws on the books that made it permissible for a husband to discipline his wife the same way he did his children (at the same time, he also had the right to demand sexual favors from her and that's creepy). Men ran everything and women had no rights. They couldn't vote, couldn't own property and couldn't make their voices heard in public forums on anything but domestic issues. They were second class citizens. And that needed to change. However, getting spanked consensually because you enjoy it does NOT mean that the person getting spanked wants it lorded over her outside the bedroom. Besides, there must be some reason why women want this kind of arrangement--where the man makes the rules and they both agree that she should get suitably punished when she breaks one of those rules. We've come a long way...even if that means we choose to live a D/s or Head of House or Taken In Hand relationship. These things aren't my cup of tea, but for others, they need it so who is it hurting?</span><br />
<br />
<br />
<strong><span style="font-family: Arial;">Myth # 4</span></strong><br />
<br />
<br />
<strong><span style="font-family: Arial;">Spanking purges guilt.</span></strong><br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Well, this one is in the eye of the beholder, isn't it? I have no idea how many people actually use spanking this way, but the number must be pretty large. So many bottoms and subs say that spanking clears the air that there must be something to it, right? I will agree that there's something quite wonderful about knowing that the slate has been wiped clean. If the spanking is given by someone they feel close to and trust and who they respect, then it's true that spanking can offer some release for negative emotions. But purging guilt? It's a very old concept that the sins of the flesh can be purged by flagellation. The Catholics were huge fans of that particular way of thinking. I suppose if a person does something wrong and gets spanked for it and that spanking makes them feel better, then I guess I have to grudgingly say that, yes, spanking can purge guilt. But for myself, it doesn't. I'm speaking only for myself here. </span><br />
<br />
<br />
<strong><span style="font-family: Arial;">Myth # 5</span></strong><br />
<br />
<br />
<strong><span style="font-family: Arial;">All spankos were abused in some way as children.</span></strong><br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This myth is perpetuated by films like "Secretary" and other erotica that vanillas watch and read. No sane, emotionally healthy and socially well adjusted person would ever allow another person to hit them, they reason. I once had a boyfriend who, when I asked him to spank me, offered to pay for my therapy. This myth is a very old one. In England, it's believed by many that all of the caning that went on in public (private) schools back in the old days made all the men sadomasochists. They believe that somehow, all of those spankings we received as children became eroticized in our brains as adults as a coping mechanism to deal with all the abuse we suffered. This is poppycock.I would guess someone has seen "A Dangerous Method" too many times. I know many, many spankos (particularly among the younger set) who were never spanked as children. That's not to say that they were raised in loving, functional families, but they never had the specter of physical punishment hanging over them. Anyway, loving discipline is a far cry from abuse, but that's an argument for another day.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><strong>Myth # 6</strong></span><br />
<strong><span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span></strong>
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><strong>Spanko women are more inclined to want casual sex than vanilla women.</strong></span><br />
<strong><span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span></strong>
<span style="font-family: Arial;">This is total hooey, probably promulgated by vanilla men who hope and pray this is true. It's been my experience that spanko women (and kinky women in general) are just as much inclined to want a loving, monogamous relationship as their vanilla sisters. It's true that some kinky women are down for hook ups with casual partners, but then so are vanilla women. This is probably one of the more harmful myths that exist today and it needs to be demolished with all speed. I know of vanilla guys who join kink sites because they subscribe to this myth...kinky girls are easy and will do it with anyone. Complete baloney.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><strong>Myth # 7</strong></span><br />
<strong><span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span></strong>
<strong><span style="font-family: Arial;">Fetlife is a sex/porn/hook up site.</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span></strong>
<span style="font-family: Arial;">If I had a dime for every guy who has told me "You're on a sex site, sweetheart" when I take them to task for leaving sexual comments on my photos, I'd be a millionaire. And I'm probably not far from wrong. I suppose Fetlife, because it's a social media site, can be used a lot of different ways, one of which is as a substitute for having to pay for a porn site or having to join an internet dating service. Fetlife is free to use and that makes it attractive to people who want things without having to pay for them. And since it's a free country, they're free to think what they wish. That doesn't mean I have to buy into it. I use Fetlife for keeping up with friends and for networking before events and to a lesser extent, for getting involved in discussions with like-minded people. I'm NOT on Fetlife to be living wank material for horny guys and I would suspect neither are most women.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><strong>Myth # 8</strong></span><br />
<strong><span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span></strong>
<strong><span style="font-family: Arial;">All the women who attend spanking parties should look like spanking models.</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span></strong>
<span style="font-family: Arial;">This one is a particular favorite of mine. Many, many spankos get their first exposure to adult spanking via videos. I'm no exception to that. My first exposure to spanking videos came through Shadow Lane and their Romance of Spanking philosophy. Indeed, all of their models conformed to society's notion of beauty (thin, pretty and decked out in heels and garters). It pretty much told me that women my age and weight could not get spanked in a "romantic" context. That's only for the knock outs and cuties. Then, I attended my first spanking party and that myth was definitely exploded. The only women at spanking parties who actually look like spanking models are...well...spanking models. The rest of us look like your normal everyday women. If you're a guy and you attend a spanking party thinking that all the women are going to look like the chicks you see in the videos, you are going to be sadly disappointed. Video producers are going to use what sells and beautiful women sell videos. But they aren't realistic, at least not in the sense that it's realistic to use spanking starlets as your yardstick for how every woman you spank should look. It's OK to have preferences, just keep them realistic if you ever expect to enjoy the party scene.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><strong>Myth # 9</strong></span><br />
<strong><span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span></strong>
<strong><span style="font-family: Arial;">Everyone who gets spanked is submissive and everyone who spanks is dominant.</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span></strong>
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Well, I've come across this one enough times to be fairly certain that it's pervasive. The problem is that the lines between BDSM and spanking have become majorly blurred. Many spankos dabble in or practice BDSM to one extent or another and many BDSM practitioners have a spanking fetish. The problem is that not everyone spanks or gets spanked to meet the same need. Yes, many spankos, both male and female, are submissive. And yes, many spankos, both male and female, are dominant. However, many of us (myself included) get spanked just because we enjoy the sensations it brings. Others simply want to temporarily cede control to someone else. Others like testing their limits, etc. There are lots of people out there calling themselves submissives who really don't know what it means because they think bottom and submissive is the same thing. Same for tops calling themselves doms. It's a question of not knowing the lingo. It's pretty easily sorted, but still annoying because I encounter it so much. No, not everyone who gets spanked is submissive and not everyone who spanks is dominant. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><strong>Myth # 10</strong></span><br />
<strong><span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span></strong>
<strong><span style="font-family: Arial;">Nudity adds to a spankee's humiliation.</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span></strong>
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Another one that's in the eye of the beholder. If being naked embarrasses you, then yes I would have to say that nudity certainly adds to the humiliation of the scene. But if you're like me, an exhibitionist who enjoys being spanked, then no, it won't. It does heighten the feeling of vulnerability, but that's not the same as humiliation. There are dozens (probably more) of websites that specialize in what's known as CMNF (clothed male/naked female) or CFNM (clothed female/naked male) fetishes. The one who gets to keep their clothes on has the upper hand. In fact, the less clothing the person getting spanked is wearing, the less they feel in control. In other words, the person's sense of control is directly in proportion to how much clothing they're wearing. I see it debated in spanking groups all the time--the spankee should always be naked because it gets them into a submissive head space blah, blah, blah. If that's true for you, then go with that. But it's not true for all of us.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><strong>Myth # 11</strong></span><br />
<strong><span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span></strong>
<strong><span style="font-family: Arial;">Spanking should always be about punishment.</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span></strong>
<span style="font-family: Arial;">I should have put this one first because it never fails to infuriate me. It happens on Fetlife a lot. A top (ahem, sorry Dom) will come into a spanking group and ask about what the worst punishment you can give or how do you punish your submissive, etc. and if someone like me dares to say that spanking is fun for me and I don't do it as a punishment, then the poster invariably will jump on me and tell me to stay out of the conversation if that's my opinion. It's like they don't even want to hear someone else's thoughts on the matter or even to acknowledge the existence of people who spank for <em>gasp </em>fun. To them, spanking should always be about learning a lesson and being better behaved in the future. There's no room in their world for scenes that involve laughter, joking and enjoyment...unless it's the person doing the spanking enjoying it. When I tell these clueless wonders that consensual spanking means that both parties are supposed to enjoy it, they tell me to be quiet about things I don't know about, etc. All I can then do is pity their play partners.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><strong>Myth # 12</strong></span><br />
<strong><span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span></strong>
<strong><span style="font-family: Arial;">Men who get spanked by other men are gay or bisexual.</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span></strong>
<span style="font-family: Arial;">This can go back to Myth # 1 I suppose. I have long disliked the double standard that exists in the spanking world that says it's OK for women to get spanked by other women but not for men to get spanked by other men. I guess F/F scenes are acceptable because most men (if they're honest) like seeing two women together. I have a problem with party organizers banning M/M from their parties while promoting F/F scenes. I don't even think it's a result of homophobia. I just think it's a taboo that no one really wants to cross. To me, as long as it's spanking only (even if balls are touching thighs) it's straight. Now, if one guy is going to do another guy in the ass when the spanking is over, then yes it ceases to be straight, obviously. But I've known even gay and bisexual men who are perfectly willing and able to give a straight guy a spanking and enjoy it immensely without any sexual overtones whatsoever. A few of the women who have spanked me are bisexual or bi-curious and I have no problem with that as long as they respect that I'm straight and don't try anything with me. I think men who are comfortable getting spanked by other men should be able to say so openly without fear of having their masculinity questioned. They should also be free to play just as publicly at parties as women do.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><strong>Myth # 13</strong></span><br />
<strong><span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span></strong>
<strong><span style="font-family: Arial;">You can't enjoy getting hit anywhere but the bottom and still call yourself a spanko.</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span></strong>
<span style="font-family: Arial;">There's a lot of gray area in this one. Some say yes, some say no. Even though I love getting the fronts of my thighs caned, I still consider myself a spanko. Getting my thighs caned isn't something I have to have every time I play. Let's face it, not everyone is comfortable doing that. And it's not like I call getting the fronts of my thighs caned "spanking". I'm fairly certain that "body work" as it's called isn't spanking. But just because I do other things besides spanking doesn't mean I'm not a hardwired spanko. I would say that enjoying that kind of play is just a manifestation of my masochism. And anyway, who doesn't like to try new things every once in a while?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><strong>Myth # 14</strong></span><br />
<strong><span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span></strong>
<strong><span style="font-family: Arial;">All older women in the spanking scene are just cougars looking for young guys.</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span></strong>
<span style="font-family: Arial;">I guess, the young guys chase the older women the same way the older guys chase the PYTs. I get messages from guys as young as 19 on Fetlife (which I read with strains of "Stacy's Mom" playing in my head). I have to wonder what a guy that young sees in a woman who's older than his mom? I'm not trying to perpetuate ageism here, but I really am curious. If I were a domme, I could maybe see the reasoning. But I'm a bottom and most of the young men who message me are either tops or switches exploring their top side. As flattering as it is, I have no desire to hit the sheets with a guy who can't get served in a bar (not that I go to bars). Of course, I don't speak for everyone. There probably are older women on Fetlife who are looking for what we used to call a "boy toy". But it's not the rule.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><b>Myth # 15</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><b><br /></b></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><b>Every woman who gets spanked is looking for a daddy.</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><b><br /></b></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial;">I can kind of see how this one got started. There are a lot of women in the spanking scene who are looking for security and boundaries because they never really had them growing up. But not every woman in the spanking scene has daddy issues. I had a perfectly good dad growing up and, while I miss him, I'm not looking to relive that experience. However, a lot of women in the spanking scene didn't have a good childhood and they might be looking to get some of that back. But it's a sweeping generalization to say that women in the spanking scene are just looking to be little girls again. There are age players and littles in the spanking scene, but that's another fetish entirely.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><b>Myth # 16</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><b><br /></b></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><b>Everyone who gets spanked is a masochist.</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><b><br /></b></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial;">No, they're not. Some spankos, like yours truly, are masochists who enjoy the pain that spanking provides. But many, many spankos aren't into pain. They will accept it as a form of correction (if they have that dynamic) or they enjoy the power exchange that sometimes goes along with spanking. They might only endure the pain because they love the endorphins or because they love the rosy red glow of their bottom afterwards. The truth is that people engage in spanking play for a number of different reasons, the pain might be the least of it for some of them.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><b>Myth # 17</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><b><br /></b></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><b>If spanking turns you on, you're not a "true" spanko.</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><b><br /></b></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial;">This is the opposite end of the spectrum from the "spanking is sex" crowd. These are people who believe that you can only be a true, hardwired spanko if spanking doesn't arouse you. If it does, then you're just horny and using it as an excuse. The truth is, that a lot of people, both tops and bottoms, are turned on by spanking. But just because someone is aroused doesn't mean that anything else has to happen. I often get really turned on when being spanked, but I seldom do anything sexual with my play partners. The human sexual response in both males and females is involuntary (meaning people have no control over it) so it shouldn't even be an issue. Also, learn a little about anatomy. The bottom shares nerve bundles that echo right into the genitals so it should come as no surprise that spanking feels really, really good to most spankos. To say that, if it turns you on, then you're not real is disingenuous.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Myth # 18</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><br /></b></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Hard play causes nerve damage.</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><br /></b></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This is actually partly true. Hard play, continued over the course of many years, can cause nerve damage. The condition is known in the spanking scene as "leather butt". The skin on the bottom becomes tough and leathery, hence the name, and there can also be a decided loss of sensation. But I've been playing hard for about twelve years and it hasn't happened to me. My skin does get a bit leathery if I'm playing a lot, but I haven't experienced any kind of loss of feeling. Of course, individuals vary and your experience could very well be different. But I've heard this myth spouted by lighter players as a way to frighten or discourage newbies from playing hard. It's well known that the more a person plays, the more they can usually take. But this is just the body getting acclimated to a new activity; the same way we get used to exercise or lifting weights or jogging. It doesn't necessarily mean that you've done any kind of permanent damage to yourself.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Myth # 19</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><br /></b></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Your limits and safewords will always be respected at parties.</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><br /></b></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Unfortunately, I have firsthand experience with this one. At parties, we like to think that the dangerous types have been "weeded out" by the vetting process. Fortunately, this is mostly true. When I registered to attend my first party, I was called by one of the board members of the group and given a brief interview (despite the fact that my sister had just attended one of their parties). Some groups now require new attendees to be "sponsored" by a known member before they can attend. No matter how careful group leaders are, a predator will sometimes slip through the cracks in the system. I have had my safeword ignored and also have had men take sexual liberties with me. I handled those incidents myself without involving a board member. But I put the word out to others what had happened to me so that they could make informed decisions about whether or not to play with those people. It's a sad fact that no one is ever 100% safe, even at a big national party. But statistically you're safer at a big hotel party, where there are likely to be people close by all the time, than meeting a stranger on your own.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Myth # 20</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><br /></b></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>It's possible to "convert" vanilla people into spankos.</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><br /></b></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We've all heard someone in the scene who brags about how they managed to convert a "totally vanilla" partner into a spanko. Would this were true because the world needs more spankos. However, I don't think it's possible, no matter how much seduction and technique you use, to convert a completely vanilla person into a spanko. Yes, you might be able to get that other person to tolerate or even enjoy the occasional spanking. But you will not turn them into an actual hardwired spanko. If that happens, then I'm sorry to tell you they weren't that vanilla to start with. Most of us who are hardwired discovered our spanking interest at a young age (I was about nine or ten) and spend years wondering what's wrong with us before we finally just accept ourselves as we are. Do not think that just because your partner likes a couple of smacks on the ass during sex that you've created a spanko. It's a lot more complicated than that, I'm afraid.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Myth # 21</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><br /></b></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Spanking is becoming more mainstream.</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><br /></b></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This is another one I wish were true, Yes, BDSM and spanking activities have been featured on shows like "Law And Order", "NCIS" and the various "CSI" franchises. It's also been explored in films like "Secretary" and the eagerly awaited and overly hyped "50 Shades Of Grey" film. However, that is hardly mainstream. The television shows that have featured spanking (including the ones I mention in my previous entry) and BDSM use it to show that something was "not quite right" about someone who may have been involved in those activities. Or they are used for comic reasons. I will accept that spanking has gone mainstream when a member of the spanking community makes a film in which people are seen enjoying adult spanking play in a healthy way (i.e. not as part of an unhealthy relationship or because of psychological trauma). So far, I haven't seen it. People celebrate "Secretary" like it's the greatest thing that ever happened to the spanking community because it shows two people exploring their kinky side. Please. She's a woman who just got out of the loony bin, who self harms, and who still lives at home with drunk and abusive parents. He's a perfectionist poseur who all the women who saw the film loved as a "truly dominant" man. Yeah, right. He doesn't even have the heart to kill the mice that he find in his office, choosing instead to use no-kill traps. Plus, there's that part where he hides in the closet when his ex-wife comes to the office to see him. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Myth # 22</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><br /></b></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>The spanking scene is more tolerant and accepting of people and their differences than the vanilla world.</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><br /></b></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This isn't a myth--it's a joke. There's just as much judgment and intolerance among the citizens of the spanking world as there is out there in Vanillaland. There might even be more. If you don't believe me, try this experiment. Go to the Fetlife profile of a random person and find a photograph of something that offends you. Then, leave a comment that says something like "This isn't my thing, but hey, if you get off on this, more power to you" and then sit back and watch the shit hit the fan. Or post a journal entry describing the time you were turned down for play at a spanking party because the guy you asked wanted to play with a cuter, younger, thinner girl than you. Then watch the wagons get circled. Like it or not, the spanking scene is exactly like being in middle school. You'll see examples of people being unfriended because they are friends with someone the other person doesn't like. You'll hear gossip and rumor reported as fact. People who like something a bit different than normal M/F spanking will feel the chill of all those cold shoulders brushing past them. There's more conformity and fear of being discovered to be "different" in the spanking scene than there is among kids in your average high school.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Myth # 23</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><br /></b></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Your attitude determines the amount of play you get at parties, not your appearance.</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><br /></b></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There was a time when this was true. When I first got active in the spanking scene, my twin sister and I were two of the youngest women in the group and we were 42 at the time. We weren't hideous or anything, but we weren't young or thin. That mentality changed after a few years. I don't know if the male tops became pickier or what, but I began to get turned down for play, something that never happened before. It used to be that people would tell newbies "just be approachable and friendly and you'll be fine". Even after twelve years, I'm as friendly and approachable as I've ever been. But the "no thank you"s are piling up. All the men want the fantasy girls they see in porn and spanking videos. Anyway, I've harped on this subject enough on this blog. Believe me or don't believe me. I've seen it firsthand. And nowadays, I think the men are starting to lean towards women who look like strippers rather than the wholesome girls that used to be in spanking videos. Anyway, here's something to try if you don't believe me. If you're an older, heavier and not as pretty spankee, go to a spanking party and ask an attractive, younger male top to play. You might get a "yes" if the guy knows you, but if you're a stranger, he'll more than likely pass. I see this happening more and more and it's disturbing.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Myth # 24</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><br /></b></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Everyone in the spanking scene is into roleplaying and costumes.</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><br /></b></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Uh...no, they're not. It's true that a lot of spankos, both top and bottom, like a good roleplay scenario. Some scenarios, like schoolgirl/teacher, secretary/boss, husband/wife or cheerleader/principal, are tried and true and not very imaginative. Many tops enjoy roleplay because it lets them give what appears to be a punishment in a very non-threatening way. And a lot of bottoms like roleplay because it's fun and a chance to act a bit bratty. I myself am not a fan of roleplaying. I've done it plenty of times, but it's not really my thing. And I don't even do costumes on Halloween. Many, many spankos can enjoy themselves without costumes and roleplay.</span><br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Anyway, you get the idea. There are a lot of myths I chose not to cover because I don't want this entry to run on and on. Just remember this: if someone starts a sentence with "all" or "every", it's probably a blanket generalization and therefor, a myth. </span><br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><b><br /></b></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><b><br /></b></span>
<strong><span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span></strong>
<strong><span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span></strong>Cherylhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10092104839626502119noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3093759595584573218.post-59406677208560428642015-01-15T15:06:00.000-08:002015-01-15T16:19:19.145-08:00Mainstream M/M<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A few years ago, I posted a couple of entries in which I expounded on the reasons I'm a spanko. A couple of those entries involved describing some of the school paddlings I both received and witnessed. Accompanying those entries were some stills from mainstream films in which paddlings were presented. I got taken seriously to task by several of my readers for daring to include the scenes because they were <em>gasp </em>M/M scenes. How dare I sully the good pages of Positively Spanking with such gross and disgusting scenes. I was "supposed" to be a straight female. How could I enjoy such scenes? Well, I guess I'll use those old entries to prove the point I'm about to make.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial;">As far as film is concerned, M/M spanking has a long history. The 1921 Buster Keaton comedy "The Boat" opens with a scene of Buster giving his son (played by his real life some incidentally) a spanking for swinging on the bow line of the ship he's just built causing the craft to rock. Many films through the ages, such as James Cagney's "Public Enemy" and Walter Huston's "Of Human Hearts" featured the male protagonist being spanked by his father as a youngster. Classic novels like "Tom Sawyer", "Barry Lyndon" and "David Copperfield" featured M/M spanking scenes and when the films were made of these novels, the directors had no qualms about including the spanking scenes. More recently, films like "Dead Poets Society", "Flirting", "The Basketball Diaries", "Dazed And Confused" and "Class Of 1999" have given us M/M spanking scenes (though in a school environment). All of these films were commercial and critical successes to one degree or another. I'm not suggesting that they were successful because they contained a scene in which a male spanked another male. I'm saying that the public at large didn't seem to be put off enough to stay away from such films. Even more recently than these examples, we've seen M/M spanking scenes on television on shows like "Titus" and "The Office". As quirky as these shows were, they were still mainstream. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial;">At the time I did my entries, soul searching my reasons for my love of spanking, I devoted almost one entire entry to the British film "If....", a film in which a young Malcolm McDowell gets a merciless caning from his head of house at the boarding school he attends. The scene is very hard for me to watch for a couple of reasons. First, McDowell's character, Mick Travis, is very, very likable and seeing him caned sadistically is no fun. The fact that the rest of the school is assembled in such a way that they get to hear it is humiliating. And then there's the fact that a few of the students obviously think the caning is deserved, which makes it even more humiliating. Just as in "The Basketball Diaries", we're treated to a scene at the end of the film in which Travis and his caned cohorts shoot up the school. This may have been used by the respective filmmakers to show that school discipline turns ordinary young men into crazed killers, but the fact that the scenes were included, says something else, too. People apparently took it for granted that young men in school were still spanked when they got out of line. Just as I did in those older entries, I'll include scenes from those movies here.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Before I load the screen shots, just let me apologize for the poor quality of most of these photos. They reflect the poor quality of the downloads. I will also say that I have seen most of the movies or shows these shots are from. But there are a few I haven't seen and I only know the spanking. I will only give information I know to be true. So, here we go:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial;">First up, we have a scene that most movie fans, let alone fans of M/M, know well due to the fact that it's been parodied a number of times. It's the freshman hazing scene from the coming of age film set in 1976 Texas, "Dazed And Confused". That's Ben Affleck, as senior O'Bannion, taking his turn with freshman Mitch Kramer (well played by Wiley Wiggins). The group jump the kid after a baseball game, in which Kramer was the winning pitcher. How's that for a thank you? We get the scene in slow motion and set to Alice Cooper's "No More Mr. Nice Guy". How fitting. By the way, the female freshmen aren't paddled in this film, but they are subjected to humiliating exercises called "air raids", which the senior girls inflict with just as much sadistic pleasure as their male counterparts.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwpP4dKcPQvANOrADjyHyMagHbJYqf8GUeThdYQisEs6b_oAVgGogyJVmjoGNFCC8nqPUcEzez4s2M5VCDXcRfzZjKaRa9cgkhLYDOKavUBSuC0wFbYbOSwIYISjACv8ISzMqUBEbW_Zxs/s1600/Dazed+And+Confused.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwpP4dKcPQvANOrADjyHyMagHbJYqf8GUeThdYQisEs6b_oAVgGogyJVmjoGNFCC8nqPUcEzez4s2M5VCDXcRfzZjKaRa9cgkhLYDOKavUBSuC0wFbYbOSwIYISjACv8ISzMqUBEbW_Zxs/s1600/Dazed+And+Confused.jpg" height="153" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Next, another coming of age tale (beginning to notice a pattern here?) from 1985, set in the mid-60s in fictional St. Basil's High School. The boys of St. Basil's are subjected to numerous indignities by the brothers in this film, but nothing comes close to the ending scene where five boys are rounded up and given the strap for removing the head from a statue of the saint. The boy in the photo should look familiar to fans of "Grey's Anatomy". That's Dr. McDreamy (also known as actor Patrick Dempsey) getting the strap. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY8MM4E9X62DZbixKh6rukM4BAnVVnXzXjmPTHSBt2EeuWlPZdlFEU2Bem8OyGGNKtcE_d1NKTNNzz90c2xjzKVAnSwUY8XqoNmiRV-N2i6MgjYcgHHVVKQeZxEjakJcrdpD89PkKvtF3P/s1600/Heaven+Help+Us.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY8MM4E9X62DZbixKh6rukM4BAnVVnXzXjmPTHSBt2EeuWlPZdlFEU2Bem8OyGGNKtcE_d1NKTNNzz90c2xjzKVAnSwUY8XqoNmiRV-N2i6MgjYcgHHVVKQeZxEjakJcrdpD89PkKvtF3P/s1600/Heaven+Help+Us.jpg" height="157" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Next up, William Makepece Thackery's classic novel about an Irish rogue who finds himself married to an English countess comes to the screen, thanks to director Stanley Kubrick. "Barry Lyndon" was sumptuous film released in 1975. I saw it for the first time in 1978 and have loved it ever since. Ryan O'Neal plays the Irish upstart Redmond Barry, seen here correcting his stepson, Lord Bullingdon, for perhaps the two hundredth time. Yeah, that had to hurt.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR1AFFr9QZVafbi9XA7HsS20DS0NLL1aDgTynu8fMYNMDCEGBesBWCPgLzxN_XLp_AihEPTdqTQv8Q7YzS6BVWHIPhvvONt4cgtmAQzScJsmQ6JCK58k4wcK33rbc0sWvHSL1AaCfb04sR/s1600/Barry+Lyndon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR1AFFr9QZVafbi9XA7HsS20DS0NLL1aDgTynu8fMYNMDCEGBesBWCPgLzxN_XLp_AihEPTdqTQv8Q7YzS6BVWHIPhvvONt4cgtmAQzScJsmQ6JCK58k4wcK33rbc0sWvHSL1AaCfb04sR/s1600/Barry+Lyndon.jpg" height="227" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">From the past to the future in one fell swoop. The next film we'll look at is the 1984 cult classic "Class of 1999". In the future, warring street gangs terrorize inner city schools. One enterprising school principal hires robots to keep the little darlings in line, including Mr. Hardin, a former military robot. When a fight between two rival gang members breaks out on his first day in class, Mr. Hardin knows just how to handle it. He grabs the boys, puts them across his knee in turn and spanks them...hard. Mr. Hardin don't play.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ0cR3WLg-Ku4JGinlvdHls5SWc_vXltsl95hb-dstigwwC4ECCCOXXmkd55k8Tny7PSNMKEaINsENxPF2BGq6VLuBZOgxpIIOgsRWvw8-jmXNcd5dXhXoWcbe2btB4yQUcohSDNLSisxJ/s1600/Class+of+1999.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ0cR3WLg-Ku4JGinlvdHls5SWc_vXltsl95hb-dstigwwC4ECCCOXXmkd55k8Tny7PSNMKEaINsENxPF2BGq6VLuBZOgxpIIOgsRWvw8-jmXNcd5dXhXoWcbe2btB4yQUcohSDNLSisxJ/s1600/Class+of+1999.jpg" height="137" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Next, a television show that has garnered it share of praise and criticism while it aired, "The Office". In this episode, Steve Carrell as Michael Scott spanks his nephew, Luke (played by "American Horror Story"'s Even Peters...he got spanked on that show, too...hmmmm), who's come to work at his uncle's company. The spanking is actually well done (for television).</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAc4-IDrK9LTS0uXyYc-KC_vcssnNBFTBrtxl52uCCVTqlE8zmnAA2ZsqBaz5lhadoqXFIGhT_TrFrZ8uh_K4nnRYYuKoe_KdkiYyUimZU3Y7nME77vWNVtGh0g44SgagJOEFD6gBP7fPw/s1600/The+Office.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAc4-IDrK9LTS0uXyYc-KC_vcssnNBFTBrtxl52uCCVTqlE8zmnAA2ZsqBaz5lhadoqXFIGhT_TrFrZ8uh_K4nnRYYuKoe_KdkiYyUimZU3Y7nME77vWNVtGh0g44SgagJOEFD6gBP7fPw/s1600/The+Office.jpg" height="232" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial;">Now, I admit to not having seen the show the next photo comes from. It's a British show called "How Not To Live Your Life" and the episode is entitled "How Not To Deal With Teenagers". The show's hero, Don, is in a pub having a conversation about music with a couple of teenaged boys, one of whom apparently doesn't speak English. They ridicule Don because he's not "felch" enough. Don plays out four different scenarios of what he would like to do to these boys, one of which includes a bare bottom spanking. Yeah, gotta love those English. I wonder if this is "felch" enough? lol</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvoHhgYdWTnVJbk85Cd9nSTsGZwH77yOmK-0-468Zq4UIKzqppG31Jp3s_dUKHMQsaRDil5yUh2QWJP_VpCnxoc2GNl2DhRMvBbMatM46Llt_arwW3Rir4xPRqiW-O_AYeVfhxpsZmd36j/s1600/How+Not+To+Live+Your+Life.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvoHhgYdWTnVJbk85Cd9nSTsGZwH77yOmK-0-468Zq4UIKzqppG31Jp3s_dUKHMQsaRDil5yUh2QWJP_VpCnxoc2GNl2DhRMvBbMatM46Llt_arwW3Rir4xPRqiW-O_AYeVfhxpsZmd36j/s1600/How+Not+To+Live+Your+Life.jpg" height="155" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Oh, I sense another coming of age period piece coming up. "Dead Poets Society" is a sensitive film set in a boy's school in the 1950's. Robin Williams gives a stand out performance as a teacher who employs unorthodox teaching methods and encourages his students to "seize the day". One of the students takes things a step too far when he claims to have gotten a phone call from God. The principal isn't pleased and has the young man conveyed to his office for a meeting with the Board Of Education. Oh, we get the sleeve roll too? Cool!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg15ecyu2TXvpW4r0Jx5ENYduH-O-5-qeKMQ-QfTs3J6eONIR1sGZQO061mOsnpgCf2tIEpo02jUmCmbcEa_8IuJxUzr33cf4l0o2oKeqKRWQK1FyjpRjKVkppQ5PonMmcWTOs0G83qEIXA/s1600/Dead+Poets+Society.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg15ecyu2TXvpW4r0Jx5ENYduH-O-5-qeKMQ-QfTs3J6eONIR1sGZQO061mOsnpgCf2tIEpo02jUmCmbcEa_8IuJxUzr33cf4l0o2oKeqKRWQK1FyjpRjKVkppQ5PonMmcWTOs0G83qEIXA/s1600/Dead+Poets+Society.jpg" height="225" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Next, a classic. And I'm incredibly sorry that I don't have a photo of better quality, but this was the best that I could find. This is a famous episode of "Wagon Train". John McEntyre is spanking actor Michael Burns (as Barney, one of his workers). The episode is famous because the young lady in the scene, Deborah Walley, also got a spanking. In fact, when she died, her obituary mentioned the spanking. It's a bit of a mystery to me how her spanking got to be so famous when it's barely shown. Michael Burns, on the other hand, was probably the most spanked teenager on television in the 60's.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxt3CgjMlUAOQBQSItiz1olmpvxPDG4pq6LA4Yr5rbEL6aQ1NPpG8qPWTq0H7yrU5UT7s70UYkEplKEd-0a1WTjSxAlkLrrlAEfykYm65IquiEG6zhZQfLzalUwm6NYC4oY4ubpHIrJK2N/s1600/Wagon+Train.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxt3CgjMlUAOQBQSItiz1olmpvxPDG4pq6LA4Yr5rbEL6aQ1NPpG8qPWTq0H7yrU5UT7s70UYkEplKEd-0a1WTjSxAlkLrrlAEfykYm65IquiEG6zhZQfLzalUwm6NYC4oY4ubpHIrJK2N/s1600/Wagon+Train.jpg" height="190" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial;">Here we have another really famous caning scene. It's from the film "If....", in which young Malcolm McDowell gets a merciless caning from Roundtree, his head of house. He's even doing a run up, which shows you just how sadistic this scene is. Believe it not, this film got an X rating when it was released in 1968.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-p6jGl8mUyXbpuQnauA9YC1uWFg9dv1xFfmOrZqS71-OWUs9pxcWrKavLAOys5UBkhYgrkp-xDvXVKF4MaS2Mj-WdMHguRCLNM1TJZwThga8llEyF0_jeqbVezHK2_zyqNLUjJ_mEPV5l/s1600/If.....jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-p6jGl8mUyXbpuQnauA9YC1uWFg9dv1xFfmOrZqS71-OWUs9pxcWrKavLAOys5UBkhYgrkp-xDvXVKF4MaS2Mj-WdMHguRCLNM1TJZwThga8llEyF0_jeqbVezHK2_zyqNLUjJ_mEPV5l/s1600/If.....jpg" height="184" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial;">I haven't seen the film my next photo comes from. The film is called "Youth In Revolt". The scene seems to involve Gale O'Grady and Ray Liotta as a couple who can't deal with her rebellious son. While the mother (Ms. O'Grady) is on the phone to her ex-husband trying to get him to take the boy because she can't handle him anymore, her boyfriend (Mr. Liotta) suggests some corporal punishment for the boy. We here the young man's narration as he tells us that one of his other personalities took the thrashing. Looks like he's the one taking it to me.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgTYeWV9_nlXCcvPCpI-pU_E_c9JVyajJhhvy9xYop31rKC9MzCedA58lhjZ1zaRXeamPYlWRYLxwRzh65LcXJzAZMphJaC3Wy5KBjoKLtLM6ifZ30soukd2mAMN8ytTSd30azu9xYLLJ3/s1600/Youth+In+Revolt.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgTYeWV9_nlXCcvPCpI-pU_E_c9JVyajJhhvy9xYop31rKC9MzCedA58lhjZ1zaRXeamPYlWRYLxwRzh65LcXJzAZMphJaC3Wy5KBjoKLtLM6ifZ30soukd2mAMN8ytTSd30azu9xYLLJ3/s1600/Youth+In+Revolt.jpg" height="161" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Next up, one of my favorite M/M scenes in all of cinema, "The Basketball Diaries". The scene in question features a young Leonardo Di Caprio as Jim Carroll getting a serious paddling from a priest while on all fours in front of the class. This is the opening scene in the film and sets the tone for the whole thing. Poor Leo...he just can't get a break. He has a promising basketball career ahead of him, but like a lot of kids in the 60's, drugs caused him to take a detour on the road of life. I'm not sure what films like this say about society as a whole, but this photo shows that Leo is pretty spankable.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMZSVaZPuYMw1zmS6brOIGuIzRX22OUKW0KATGo90JCfjfx8D4ZePHLKwY8RRgbI16_EjsMiU6kfKAG0B07N3aLF1vIC9LwZrzuIckmU1mE_MLbdXhUIsPrUa5U3CPVRjMTP2_khw2rAy9/s1600/Basketball+Diaries.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMZSVaZPuYMw1zmS6brOIGuIzRX22OUKW0KATGo90JCfjfx8D4ZePHLKwY8RRgbI16_EjsMiU6kfKAG0B07N3aLF1vIC9LwZrzuIckmU1mE_MLbdXhUIsPrUa5U3CPVRjMTP2_khw2rAy9/s1600/Basketball+Diaries.jpg" height="122" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Now, on to some nice British Navy discipline. This is an episode of "Hornblower" and while I haven't seen the whole thing, I'm familiar with this activity. Young Mr. Wellard is doing what used to be known as "kissing the gunner's daughter". In other words, he's getting a thrashing over a cannon. This miniseries was beautifully filmed and highly acclaimed and it had every one's favorite bad guy, David Warner as the sadistic captain.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirG2Yf-R2MslPt82A6_4I5aqxVm8fNEB77cXhAeH45Sl9y4iHpVt0xE_C99Ukq6isJhLlBSa4JElylZKiRQ_fDV9PKUHXPKPwxX6GZawrtZcJ-UZRjt9OimlW90Ah3MUU8H3SSQp4AR89Q/s1600/Hornblower.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirG2Yf-R2MslPt82A6_4I5aqxVm8fNEB77cXhAeH45Sl9y4iHpVt0xE_C99Ukq6isJhLlBSa4JElylZKiRQ_fDV9PKUHXPKPwxX6GZawrtZcJ-UZRjt9OimlW90Ah3MUU8H3SSQp4AR89Q/s1600/Hornblower.jpg" height="160" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial;">I actually only watched the show our next photo comes from a few times. It was pretty ahead of its time. The show is called "Titus" and it's based loosely on the life and stand up routine of its star, Christopher Titus. He's the sensible one in a completely dysfunctional family. In the scene in question, the father, Ken Titus (played by Stacey Keach), spanks his younger son Dave while Christopher watches from the "neutral space", a black and white set that he used to narrate and offer his insights. He comments on his father's "special way" with children. Again, I have to apologize for the quality of the clip I got this from. Obviously, this was the days before hi-def.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEjg5OEuNT9tljTAtOGvwGqE_JnUyTr8N1i_uglr8QvoDTbonYVv-O-w3NgaOlJkIuofAeEWy30I-4v7-tTFw92w67jfMlNSpSmnhb229zSglHiymDCOJgHY7nSWZaO4TrGWom5naRdAkM/s1600/Titus.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEjg5OEuNT9tljTAtOGvwGqE_JnUyTr8N1i_uglr8QvoDTbonYVv-O-w3NgaOlJkIuofAeEWy30I-4v7-tTFw92w67jfMlNSpSmnhb229zSglHiymDCOJgHY7nSWZaO4TrGWom5naRdAkM/s1600/Titus.jpg" height="200" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Next up, a British film from 1983, which was also highly acclaimed. In "Another Country", Rupert Everett plays Guy Bennett, a gay student having an affair with another student. A young Colin Firth plays his socialist roommate. The film seems to say "It's OK to be gay, old chap. Just don't get caught being gay." Bennett's behavior is beginning to get noticed so the "Gods" get together and decide something has to be done. They call Bennett in for a caning. The seen is dark and somber, as seen in the darkness of the room here. He is unceremoniously bent over a chair for his strokes.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4K-IavW4xWPk5gPHBZM1jV9fx7siR_6L0yIvA02dxqBP-QpJCWLSxBp5IddWssxU1MQSWDYcSs8CEKm9NHTRpp2ba1RqWifqg6Z3YqTI0Brz67QI0UDgR0klXVAORaq2WOdvu_jSsXsW1/s1600/Another+Country.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4K-IavW4xWPk5gPHBZM1jV9fx7siR_6L0yIvA02dxqBP-QpJCWLSxBp5IddWssxU1MQSWDYcSs8CEKm9NHTRpp2ba1RqWifqg6Z3YqTI0Brz67QI0UDgR0klXVAORaq2WOdvu_jSsXsW1/s1600/Another+Country.jpg" height="171" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Anyway, I'm sure you get the idea now. M/M has been going on in mainstream films for a very long time. I don't know what the fuss is, as a spanko, about having it openly at spanking parties or why it's so odd that some people enjoy these types of videos. And in case anyone wants to cry "foul" and say I never did the same for M/F, go back a couple of years and you'll see at least three entries devoted to great M/F scenes. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial;">I'm quite sure there are gentlemen who enjoy the homoerotic elements of some of these scenes. But also there are people like me, who just enjoy a good M/M scene and see no reason why these scenes shouldn't be as celebrated as all those classic M/F scenes.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span>Cherylhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10092104839626502119noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3093759595584573218.post-17135275058770174022014-09-24T20:12:00.001-07:002014-09-24T21:24:53.382-07:00Calling On The Spanking Community<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">OK, folks this isn't going to be my usual post, even though I'll be attending my first MDSS party in three days. No, there's more serious business to attend to tonight.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">You folks that read me regularly know that I have become really "into" the Straight Lads Spanked website. Well, one of the guys needs the help of the spanking community. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-Th03mXtsE6EAHOa3TFu2ZyFl7WTtsglVfy9eD1tQOkvkQYl0qOaVmsGg8QO8jjs1cyTsaj3zXfk86UeZn4ibPQqeQzcWsJixAzN00Dc6Y22aoZgZIJF9QXKfNUVs5Y0pemRdJzekF4ek/s1600/Patrick.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-Th03mXtsE6EAHOa3TFu2ZyFl7WTtsglVfy9eD1tQOkvkQYl0qOaVmsGg8QO8jjs1cyTsaj3zXfk86UeZn4ibPQqeQzcWsJixAzN00Dc6Y22aoZgZIJF9QXKfNUVs5Y0pemRdJzekF4ek/s1600/Patrick.png" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This young man, as you may or may not know (depending on your interest in M/M spanking or how much you read this blog), is Patrick Lee. Patrick is 23 years old and lives in London. He's originally from Dublin. He shot a number of videos, usually with his brothers Andy and Dan, for SLS and he was the first model I encountered from that site. So I have a real soft spot for this young man. Three days ago, while he was on holiday in Ibiza, Spain Patrick was attacked, according to his brother, Andy, by a group of guys who left him with a broken back, broken jaw and other injuries. The situation is serious, not just because Patrick is badly injured, but also because Patrick doesn't have medical insurance and he has already received a large bill for his treatment. He just quite simply doesn't have that kind of money. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So, this is where social media helps. Yesterday, I made the decision to finally get on Twitter (mostly so I can keep track of my favorite MLB team, the St. Louis Cardinals). It was while looking at Andy's tweets that I saw the awful news about Patrick. My first day on Twitter and this happens. Not good. Andy, like any good brother, was thrown into chaos. He started a fund for Patrick here:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">https://www.gofundme.com/etf0j0</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I noticed right away that not much was happening there, so I decided (after a night's sleep on the matter) to contact Andy and put an idea to him. As much as I complain about Fetlife here, it does serve one useful purpose: it reaches hundreds of thousands of people, all of them kinky to one degree or another. I asked Andy if I could post something about Patrick on Fetlife. I realize that many, many people use Twitter. But a good percentage of them are not kinky and the plight of a 23-year-old spanking model is of no concern to them. But I know the spanking community. I know their generosity and their "community spirit". This past summer, spankos raised over $17,000 for a man in the scene who had undergone cancer surgery and then had a seizure. The check was presented to the man's good friend at the July Crimson Moon party and he accepted the check tearfully. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">While Patrick Lee may not be a member of the American spanking scene and therefor not personally known to any of us, he IS a fellow human being and he did work in the spanking video business, so he's at least marginally well known (and very well known to some of us). Andy was very grateful to me for getting the word out about his brother, who means the world to him. I posted a writing, which prompted Jon and Kim at ASpankoWorld to start a contest in conjunction with Patrick's medical fund. Anyone who donates to Patrick's medical fund, no matter how small, will be automatically put in the running for a $100 gift card from Cane-iacs. Here's the link to their blog: </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">https://www.aspankoworld.wordpress.com</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Patrick is a young man who never thought that something like this could happen to him. Any of us could find ourselves in his shoes. So I'm imploring my readers to go to Patrick's medical fund page or to JonWelts' blog and give what you can. Let's show the world the generosity of kinky people. Let's show this young man, who just got a front row seat to the cruelty of human beings towards another, that decent, caring people exist in the world. I have a big mouth and I can't just sit back and do nothing when someone needs help. The price of your caramel mocha latte tomorrow morning would be a good donation. Anything you can spare will help get this young man back on his feet. He already has a long, painful road ahead of him and the added burden of medical bills won't help the situation. You readers out there that had someone do something kind for you out of the goodness of their hearts, this is your chance to pay it forward. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">On top of monetary donations, I'm also asking my readers to please keep Patrick and his family in your prayers. I know from experience how helpless the family must be feeling. Pray for courage, strength and healing for Patrick and peace for his loved ones. This is a bad situation and there's a young man who needs our help. Let's step up and come through. Thank you, my friends, for your generosity and giving spirit.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>Cherylhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10092104839626502119noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3093759595584573218.post-65412596952854699262014-09-21T18:27:00.001-07:002014-09-21T18:27:33.626-07:00My Life As A Twin<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_g34trkBh_1dEA0jn4XGTTNuTO_8FkWd0Q2lyM4uCMJh0Kgg0F27_c_mUdG419zs1Xi-3bsvFtUtDz0TtJIhwHM72y7Xozv_NeKB2F0sxeLtyb9Q7GAYZb81VrE8yjngi90l7VU-jtnHs/s1600/With+Grandma+Grant.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_g34trkBh_1dEA0jn4XGTTNuTO_8FkWd0Q2lyM4uCMJh0Kgg0F27_c_mUdG419zs1Xi-3bsvFtUtDz0TtJIhwHM72y7Xozv_NeKB2F0sxeLtyb9Q7GAYZb81VrE8yjngi90l7VU-jtnHs/s1600/With+Grandma+Grant.jpg" height="272" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I've mentioned repeatedly on this blog that I'm a twin, and an identical one at that. Me and my twin came into the world on New Year's Eve 53 years ago. My parents already had two children--my big sister, Kathy, who was born nearly four years ahead of us and an older brother, Ray, who is 15 months older (he would have been my "Irish twin" if I hadn't already had one)--and the thought of the family doubling in one go must have horrified them. It couldn't have been easy having three children in diapers in the early 1960's, before disposables came out. Women employed diaper services in those days. Amazingly, the dirty ones were rinsed out and put in a diaper pail and then the whole thing was picked up when the service came around and you were given clean ones. This was an expensive extravagance, but it probably saved my mother's life. I would imagine among other expenses was an increase in the family food bill and the need for a larger car. How my parents managed all of this on my dad's salary alone is a mystery. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So, I mentioned in another post that my mother dressed Carol and I alike and that my dad couldn't tell us apart. In fact, his whole life he constantly called me by her name and vise verse. A family story has it that on Friday nights when my mom would go out and get her hair done, my dad was put in charge of feeding and bathing us. My mother had a system. She put one dot on the bottom of my foot with an ink pen (because I was born first) and Carol got two dots on her foot. This was the only way they had of telling us apart. For many years, my mother kept the little pink and white ankle bracelets that were put on us at the hospital. Mine said "Baby A" and Carol's said "Baby B". I think that helped them keep us straight for the first few weeks, but I also think my mother realized that we couldn't wear those bracelets indefinitely. At some point we were going to outgrow them. The family story goes that on one night in particular when we were just a few months old, he had washed us too zealously and had washed the ink marks off our feet. I can just about imagine the panic of not knowing which child was which. He spent a very uncomfortable couple of hours waiting for Mother to come home. Of course, any good mother knows her child by sight, by cry and other ways and she easily got us figured out. However, my dad used to like to mess with us by telling me "How do you know you're not Carol Ann?" "It's too late now," I would always say. Whatever the truth about that, my mother always said that we hated being apart. When it was nap time or time to go to bed, we always pushed our cribs together (they were on wheels so they moved easily) and then held each other's hands while we slept. She said we wouldn't go to sleep any other way. One time, when we were about two, Carol tried to climb out of her crib and she fell face first on the floor. She had two black eyes and Dad said she looked like a raccoon. Carol was a daredevil her whole life. Almost nothing scared her; except being separated from me. One of my earliest memories is of being five years old and having to have my tonsils out. Kathy, Ray and Carol were going to stay overnight with our grandparents so that Mom and Dad could deal with me. I remember when we dropped them off and Mom and Dad drove away with me in the car and Carol parted the drapes and watched, the tears streaming down her face, until we were gone. My grandmother told me that Carol "cried for her sissy" all night. I still get choked up when I think about that.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWaOhivqvU8uCRzTNErFHIgwOr8XdSb3XaEcjwRLoUT8EGrfAqu8mNEgkxiOLosDyilECe-0Iibo4rbeTydYos0Xsztv4pHarhyphenhyphen1MiPjFNuHCab1C9XjYhyQ0Gny5_fuUcFCuVzmM5a86J/s1600/Eighth+Birthday.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWaOhivqvU8uCRzTNErFHIgwOr8XdSb3XaEcjwRLoUT8EGrfAqu8mNEgkxiOLosDyilECe-0Iibo4rbeTydYos0Xsztv4pHarhyphenhyphen1MiPjFNuHCab1C9XjYhyQ0Gny5_fuUcFCuVzmM5a86J/s1600/Eighth+Birthday.jpg" height="320" width="292" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The fact that my mother dressed us alike and cut our hair alike caused quite a few problems in the family. First of all, because Carol was a terrorist. I say that with nothing but love for her and respect for her memory. But she was a naughty child. She always made sure that, if she got in trouble, that she took someone else down with her. That "someone else" was usually me. She would misbehave and then go stand by me and since my dad couldn't tell us apart, we would both get spanked. Usually, when we were very little girls, he would put one of us over each knee and spank us together. He did this because one of us was sure to run away while he was busy with the other. When you have twins you have to improvise. And you have to be fast. And you have to have eyes in the back of your head. So Dad would spank us both at the same time and he would always say "I'll get the right one this way." It probably never occurred to him how many times I got spanked when I didn't deserve it or when I hadn't even done anything. I remember once being at a family reunion when I was about sixteen or so and I was complaining to someone about all the spankings I got because of Carol and my Uncle Bob just laughed and said "You probably got away with a hundred things you were never spanked for. Don't play innocent." </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Now until now, except for a memorable spanking from my Uncle Carroll (which I discussed in an earlier post), I haven't talked much about my mother's side of the family. Uncle Carroll's sons, my cousins, Lee and Kim, were my mother's age. Both were handsome, with dark hair and blue eyes, like most of the Applegates. When I was seven years old, we had a birthday party for Kim's wife, who I hated. She babysat us a couple of times and she was mean and bossy, everything a kid hates. Because Mother was an only child, the only cousins we had were her cousins. So the only kid our age was Kim's daughter, Gina Marie, who was a year younger than we were. She was everything I wasn't--beautiful, imaginative and talented. I was probably jealous of her, but jealousy, when one is a very small child, is too complex an emotion to articulate, so I simply hated her. Throwing children who dislike each other into a social situation that requires them to be on their best behavior is a recipe for disaster. My mother made sure everyone was bathed and in clean party clothes. Mother laid out our Easter dresses for this party, which were printed over in a floral print of apple green and yellow with matching green coats. It was still a bit nippy and, as I was a sickly child at times, the coats were a precaution. My mother's theory that, one behaves best when best dressed, was thrown out the window that evening. I wish I could remember what precipitated the fist fight between Gina Marie and I that fateful April night, but try as I might, I can't. I only remember us grappling on the grass in Uncle Carroll and Aunt Helen's backyard. Two little girls in crinolines, dirty and grass stained, were pulled apart by my angry cousin, Kim. My father hadn't been able to attend because he was working. My mother wasn't big on spanking us, but would if she had to. My mother's spankings were almost as bad as my father's. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Just look at you two!" Kim said, hands on hips. "You should both be ashamed of yourselves."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I have said before that I was a good kid and afraid of discipline, so I'm almost completely sure the fight was Gina's fault. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"She started it!" I said pointing at her.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I remember at some point during this encounter with my cousin Kim being carried into the house under one of his arms, while he carried his crying daughter under the other. She knew full well that this entire debacle was her fault. Kim stood us on our feet side by side and demanded that we apologize to each other and to his wife, Stacy for making a scene at her party.v For once, Stacy glossed over the incident (probably because her little angel was the guilty one), </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Well, Donna what are we gonna do with these girls?" Kim asked my mother.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My mother looked at us. What a sight we must have been. Our knees and elbows were scraped and I had managed to pull Gina's ribbon out of her hair. I knew what Mother was going to say even before she said it.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"I would spank them both," she said.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So, Gina got spanked by her mother and I got spanked by Kim. Gina absolutely got the better of that bargain. Kim put me over his knee and lifted my crinolines. Then he spanked me about seven or eight times across my panties. Gina got her spanking bare bottom. But Kim was a lot stronger than his wife and I still got the worst of it. Nine years later, at Uncle Carroll's funeral, Kim still remembered the incident. I was a 17-year-old high school senior by that time and I can remember flushing with embarrassment when he talked about it.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But life went on. I grew from a homely, skinny child into a homely, skinny adolescent.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNB_PfYg3qXkV4xaKB3lbsQnJpBdnpQbN34BrtHgEnZPQuGdoRpf6iwklBGMIWodQL76c64C1tK6KTwohXazyq8HinfOjfJ_U3Nn2m1asdTU3rhmolzBGsePhumFnmrWF9d6CrTGAhz8c4/s1600/May,1973.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNB_PfYg3qXkV4xaKB3lbsQnJpBdnpQbN34BrtHgEnZPQuGdoRpf6iwklBGMIWodQL76c64C1tK6KTwohXazyq8HinfOjfJ_U3Nn2m1asdTU3rhmolzBGsePhumFnmrWF9d6CrTGAhz8c4/s1600/May,1973.jpg" height="320" width="311" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My mother, although she's only in her late 30's here, is completely gray haired and had given up coloring it (probably because, as we kids grew and the financial demands of raising teenagers took more of their finances, there was no money to spare for such vanity). I was 13 when this photo was taken at Shepherd Of The Hills Farm in 1974. My father was still taking his belt to me when I misbehaved. With Carol around, it happened a lot. In fact, the day this photo was taken, my dad belted me for a fight in the car with my brother over ice cream. He pulled the car over, took off his belt and laid in to me right there on the side of the road, with cars whizzing past us. Of course, my brother got it as well, plus we had to clean the ice cream off the seat in the car when we got home. Such was life in those days; a series of misadventures that almost always resulted in a sore bottom. I'm sure that there are younger people reading this who are incredulous that a father would take a belt to his teenage daughter. But he was normally a kind, loving man. He was a "man's man" but wasn't afraid to show his tender side either. So I felt loved and cared for. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXQsbGwBqAkwwrSuFL4u_LSAPm6B2eWBSJ-5D85btEvqT_hTPWsR1p2OhOqgr2_xRyR7_pR-SSQEmvnJLNOjU4RjbhI7Y97MLA4qH_dR60BkX5Ow_3DvE_cyP4QvTLfXOwdHsAhE49y3hO/s1600/June,+1977.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXQsbGwBqAkwwrSuFL4u_LSAPm6B2eWBSJ-5D85btEvqT_hTPWsR1p2OhOqgr2_xRyR7_pR-SSQEmvnJLNOjU4RjbhI7Y97MLA4qH_dR60BkX5Ow_3DvE_cyP4QvTLfXOwdHsAhE49y3hO/s1600/June,+1977.jpg" height="320" width="267" /></a></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As Carol and grew into fairly attractive teenagers, my parents had what every parent of daughters dreads--that we would start dating. And we did. Carol and I were still best friends, but we began to notice boys more and more. To my parents' terror, I was attracted to older boys. High school boys were so immature. While I did date the boys at my high school, I never got attached to any of them. I much preferred, by the time I was 16 (when the above photo was taken) to date college boys. I always told them I was 18 and they always believed me. If my mother's hair wasn't already gray enough, I'm sure Carol and I added to it. But she was my best friend and biggest supporter. No matter what it was I was doing, she was right there urging me to do my best. And I did the same for her. We made a pact that we would both live to be 100 because we read that the odds were astronomical. But then, we had bucked the odds all our lives. Unfortunately, Carol didn't even live to see 50, though it was her goal. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8vDZcaBCgwwYYOXKtU4j3EMk-ZmuvRLZKZ1ThTd8WRBqAlnS3eWRXyS3WwBhVEJkgDQAIVRF46KNTEEU3khpct8I9eqimt0_dl2978hbfZ7jsFgbMNISIyTU4nrTmPVYRZUbCtJnvilWa/s1600/Christmas,+1981.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8vDZcaBCgwwYYOXKtU4j3EMk-ZmuvRLZKZ1ThTd8WRBqAlnS3eWRXyS3WwBhVEJkgDQAIVRF46KNTEEU3khpct8I9eqimt0_dl2978hbfZ7jsFgbMNISIyTU4nrTmPVYRZUbCtJnvilWa/s1600/Christmas,+1981.jpg" height="320" width="269" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We headed into our 20's still as close as ever; "thick as thieves", is how my mother used to put it. And still, even without dressing alike, my dad couldn't tell us apart. Being a twin was the coolest thing in the world. Even our boyfriends thought so. At least, until the night we switched on them. Carol's boyfriend at the time, a real cutie named Tommy, had a wonderful sense of humor and loved to go off roading (before there was a name for it) in his old Chevy Suburban. He wore T-shirts and jeans habitually and favored Old Spice aftershave. My boyfriend, Stan was a year older. I met him through a mutual friend. He was studying architecture and lived in a grubby apartment not far from my place. Stan was studious and serious, which is what I thought I wanted in a relationship. He had a weakness for seeing me in just my panties and one of his shirts.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8y1HrGZXVEhoXDVkq-eQzLYBuOh03sIhsZgkmaF2SWKAuclqCFLZ3WAbWUY0OF0Y2ITLxSK5dYP3_UpcxpwDy_jclwn1ckh0D-Z0PEpmkaR6v1lj6coulRf3Kyt6eQGm8RKbis1IqH8dM/s1600/November,+1980.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8y1HrGZXVEhoXDVkq-eQzLYBuOh03sIhsZgkmaF2SWKAuclqCFLZ3WAbWUY0OF0Y2ITLxSK5dYP3_UpcxpwDy_jclwn1ckh0D-Z0PEpmkaR6v1lj6coulRf3Kyt6eQGm8RKbis1IqH8dM/s1600/November,+1980.jpg" height="280" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Like this. This was taken in his absolutely dingy apartment. He never wanted to come to my place. He always insisted that we "study" at his place. But I was 19 here, what did I know? He had an absolute fetish for my legs, which is why we were found out so fast. Actually, as soon as Tommy put his hand down my shirt, the jig was up.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Hey! You're not Carol," he said.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I laughed.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Tommy, you see me nearly every day," I said. "You had to know as soon as you saw me."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Well, I've had a few PBR's (Pabst Blue Ribbon beers)," he replied. "I thought maybe that was the problem. But no amount of beer is gonna make your boobs as big as your sister's."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Well, you can't blame a girl for trying," I said with a laugh.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Naw,I guess not," Tommy said. "So do you still wanna have some dinner?"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A free meal? Why not. He laughed about the deception and I had a great time with him. Carol, meanwhile, didn't fare so well with Stan. He was furious about the joke we'd played. He had no sense of humor at all and I can't believe I dated him as long as I did. At the time this happened, in September, 1980 I had been trying to get Stan to spank me for more than a year. He loved seeing me parade around in my undies, I didn't think a spanking was that big of a stretch. Like it or not, he refused to take the hint. Carol told me that Stan's idea of a "date" was to take pics of her in her underwear and order a pizza. He must have known all along that it wasn't me because, just like I didn't have Carol's boobs, she didn't have my legs. And he knew every inch of them. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"I suppose you think that's real funny?" he said as Carol laughed.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Come on, Stan, can't you ever lighten up?" Carol replied.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Don't you have any shame at all?"" Stan said.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Don't act all moral with me," Carol said. "You think I don't see those photos you take of her? You're nothing but a pervert!"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">With that, he out her across his knee and spanked her. She had gotten him to do in one hour what it had taken me a year of begging and coercing and to no avail. She told me all about it when she got home.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"I don't believe you," I told her.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">With a saucy smirk, she dropped her Lee's and showed me her red bottom. I stayed with Stan only another week or so. As far as I was concerned, he'd been intimate with my sister. I didn't blame her though.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlZ1-U6aR-GWyRUFghRdnevNYtI6q14-gQuySC-t_0AIOa4NKG4ePo6XtdrLeQ6qJ1S9VHzGWtdVT0GLYrL8qGAmv7VsQum5QFxB6dpdW2TZIXvbz4kUugxw2oqlb-3OA6y7dEnS5RS0Bp/s1600/Blow.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlZ1-U6aR-GWyRUFghRdnevNYtI6q14-gQuySC-t_0AIOa4NKG4ePo6XtdrLeQ6qJ1S9VHzGWtdVT0GLYrL8qGAmv7VsQum5QFxB6dpdW2TZIXvbz4kUugxw2oqlb-3OA6y7dEnS5RS0Bp/s1600/Blow.jpg" height="278" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This was Carol and I on our 23rd birthday. We were old enough to have affairs, drink in bars and dance the night away in the underground clubs that were all the rage then, but still young enough to enjoy blowing out the candles on our birthday cake. We had decent jobs (though Carol had recently moved back home) and decent lives. But we were both courting disaster. As we moved on into our 20's, we both became enmeshed in booze and bad relationships. In a couple of years' time, I would probably sink to my lowest: working fast food and enduring an abusive relationship. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ35nebqq4ICPhDePWV_Imhy9xwixoQpnzKuKf6uekK0gKhcyG5vV3zBc-3ekLND7IoITGbLotBkSzgF4om-1D4pG3BPq-lTApNhJK3cFWYrxu11yKtfwCHXAerDHTklIZswPP5DD-153q/s1600/June,+1983.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ35nebqq4ICPhDePWV_Imhy9xwixoQpnzKuKf6uekK0gKhcyG5vV3zBc-3ekLND7IoITGbLotBkSzgF4om-1D4pG3BPq-lTApNhJK3cFWYrxu11yKtfwCHXAerDHTklIZswPP5DD-153q/s1600/June,+1983.jpg" height="236" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My life changed completely the day after this photo was taken. On June 22, 1983, I was involved in an accident with a drunk driver. I wasn't critically injured, but I was injured badly enough that I only drove sporadically over the next thirteen years and haven't driven at all since 1996. That accident changed me; more than that, it scared me. I can remember Carol, trying to put on a brave face, but tears were standing in the corners of her eyes. She told me that, right when the accident had occurred, she'd had the strangest feeling she'd ever had in her life. She said the worst feeling of dread had come over her. I told her it was because she'd made the goat horns behind my head in the photo. That was bad luck; as bad as rocking an empty rocking chair or walking under a ladder. My outward wounds healed up, but inside, I was a mess. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh21tmmefzBC1d308p8UfaSVtOX99rp-cIKbLjHQapaaTHac8VwUT-_BKMXRnIZAmI4pU7Q7WPnsBwSzW0w0zKpzmngeldlhCCACw8bmrz-Tr3dswO7CnbYluPWpB1861-_qcRBv8BEtLF-/s1600/November,+1987.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh21tmmefzBC1d308p8UfaSVtOX99rp-cIKbLjHQapaaTHac8VwUT-_BKMXRnIZAmI4pU7Q7WPnsBwSzW0w0zKpzmngeldlhCCACw8bmrz-Tr3dswO7CnbYluPWpB1861-_qcRBv8BEtLF-/s1600/November,+1987.jpg" height="306" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The 80's plowed on. We stayed close to home, even in our individual lives. I still couldn't stand to be separated from her. This photo is scratched from being carried in my purse for a year after she died. We were both drunks by this time, but you wouldn't know it to look at us. We were going to a club that night, I'm sure. No matter how bad things got, we never forgot family. Our parents and siblings and grandparents and uncles and aunts and cousins still meant everything to us. We were proud aunts, too--Kathy had two boys, Sean and Andrew and Ray had two girls, Rachel and Dawn. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUSPFp7M3QUU8QvXyRHnfPVoyJW3JNYSSQbqtGx26-WzlN-Kvl19WZeHlHbCuDbpZJjEZziCNX2RSTUYcHCITRXq4ZrBfJ3Z1lLJTxSvYWbcyuQxTlgdyvqX9B1Hyc3_gi6-qXlNXAC9BL/s1600/Christmas,+1988.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUSPFp7M3QUU8QvXyRHnfPVoyJW3JNYSSQbqtGx26-WzlN-Kvl19WZeHlHbCuDbpZJjEZziCNX2RSTUYcHCITRXq4ZrBfJ3Z1lLJTxSvYWbcyuQxTlgdyvqX9B1Hyc3_gi6-qXlNXAC9BL/s1600/Christmas,+1988.jpg" height="308" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This is Christmas, 1988. Carol is holding Andrew, the younger of Kathy's two boys. He's fourteen months old here. Even though we'd gone out the night before, we made sure we were up and dressed when Kathy brought the boys over (minus her husband) to get their presents. Mother was sick cancer and Alzheimer's by this point, so family became even more important. I knew Kathy wasn't happy in her marriage, but those boys were everything to her and she endured a lot of unpleasantness and frustration for their sakes. I'm pretty sure Andrew appreciates it. Sean, not so much. No matter how bad things get, I used to tell him, always put your family first. Yeah, it was old-fashioned. But in the end, who's going to love you more than family? Who's going to put up with your crap and repeatedly forgive you? Really, only family will do that. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4nlEvbwzX2qKyTaT9c7qUsqmbOSJ4O0dnbRrOyc9vchx1-8iiKO2KNKiZ7X5kvFtpGLXfvRqSCenYgkOo8pdzClGKPQ959aeUbdWfxG1y-VSqGVasuawt4lv_aS-SDovUwKtv7aLtH2W0/s1600/Father's%2BDay%2C%2B1991.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4nlEvbwzX2qKyTaT9c7qUsqmbOSJ4O0dnbRrOyc9vchx1-8iiKO2KNKiZ7X5kvFtpGLXfvRqSCenYgkOo8pdzClGKPQ959aeUbdWfxG1y-VSqGVasuawt4lv_aS-SDovUwKtv7aLtH2W0/s1600/Father's%2BDay%2C%2B1991.jpg" height="320" width="280" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">By the time this photo was taken, on Father's Day, 1991, things were bad. Mother had slipped away from us into her own world and Dad was struggling to cope. He had promised never to put her in a nursing home, but it was a promise he couldn't keep. Carol was caring for both of them full-time and she asked me to come back and help her. At first, I thought I'd made the biggest mistake of my life. But looking back, Carol needed me. As horrible as those days were, I'm glad I didn't desert her when she needed me. We were 30 years old by this time and I felt like my life was half over. But there was Carol, being my rock as she always was.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV-M1kiKdOhL-QPkLQYKUtv6E798JRRmgZJIxH-uBkAnbeFMFKeA0iIAX9mm9BYkuUo8QRQOQD4cANR5kM_loRfDnEsDoL_Aow03GqRAeTn0KNquB0phRN3DcxhzsacDyrj043C-r2KwKD/s1600/Christmas,+1992.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV-M1kiKdOhL-QPkLQYKUtv6E798JRRmgZJIxH-uBkAnbeFMFKeA0iIAX9mm9BYkuUo8QRQOQD4cANR5kM_loRfDnEsDoL_Aow03GqRAeTn0KNquB0phRN3DcxhzsacDyrj043C-r2KwKD/s1600/Christmas,+1992.jpg" height="320" width="292" /></a></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This photo was taken on Christmas Day, 1992. It was our dad's and mom's last Christmas. Dad did Christmas big that year, spending lavishly on everyone. He had always loved Christmas and I think he knew it was going to be his last. Carol had sobered up by this time and wanted me to do the same. The problem was that I hadn't yet admitted that I had a problem. That would take another year and a half.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Yes, my life has had some sorrows. Who's hasn't? But I was lucky enough to come into the world with my best friend. Not a lot of people can say that. They say that the twin bond is unique and can't be broken, even by death. I firmly believe that's true. A part of her is still with me, urging me on ("nagging" I would call it in my less than stellar moments). My life as a twin had ups and downs, like all lives have. But I never had to go through anything alone. And for this, I'm so grateful. I always had someone to whisper secrets to, to commiserate with in my losses and celebrate my victories. She was always my biggest fan.</span></div>
Cherylhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10092104839626502119noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3093759595584573218.post-88815688814947010472014-09-10T15:39:00.000-07:002014-09-10T15:53:48.053-07:00Be Cool, Or Be Cast Out<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I know how some people who read this will take it, really I do. It will look like just another rant from a bitter old woman about how the scene isn't the same blah, blah, blah. And if that's how certain of you reading this want to take it, that's fine with me. Take it any way you want to. But there have been things happening on Fetlife recently that have totally proven my theory that a double standard exists in the spanking scene. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Let me start by explaining a couple of things to those of you who don't frequent the spanking party circuit. I have been attending spanking parties for a long time now (like, more than a decade) and so I'm not merely speculating here. I've witnessed things firsthand. So before you get your ass hairs up, hear me out. Within the spanking party realm, there are two groups of people, the Cook Kids and the Not-So-Cool Kids. If you're in the first group, you have it made. Congratulations. This means that you can move in the highest echelons of the spanking community at large. You are popular <b>everywhere </b>you go, not just in your local group. People flock to you and want to play with you so you probably have to do some juggling to fit all your play in. Cool for you. You'll probably never know the sting of rejection (and anyone who wouldn't want to play with you is just not even worth thinking about, right?).Everyone will agree with everything you say because to do otherwise would be social suicide. You will more than likely never know the frustration of being disagreed with, at least publicly. And if you do happen to see something negative, you can count on all your cool friends to shame the other person into silence so that you need never fear hearing from them or about them ever again and everything will just be rainbows and lollipops in your world. Awesome. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">If you're a Not-So-Cool Kid, well, let's just say your life in the scene is a lot different. First of all, your lack of coolness will be noticed by the Cool Kids so you won't be able to bluff your way into that vaunted group. No matter how many plaid skirts you buy, no matter how many cute pairs of knee highs you own, no matter how many tattoos you have or how much you show you can drink and cuss as well as they can, you will never be <b>one of them</b>. Nature has conspired against you and you're doomed to spend your spanking party life on the periphery, hoping some of their coolness will radiate onto you. You will never be invited to their "private" parties. You will never be photographed with them. One may actually deign to play with you. But know ahead of time that it won't elevate your status. I have played with tons of Cook Kids (and fun it was, too!) but here I am, still in the Not-So-Cool Kids group. They may hug you and greet you and say how nice you look if you meet one at a party, but that Cool Kid is simply not going to invite you to come hang with the other Coolies. Just not gonna happen. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Now, if you're a member of the Not-So-Cool Kids group, does this mean you can't have fun at a spanking party? Heck no! You can have a great time even if you're not on the A-List. It just won't be the kind of fun the Cool Kids are having. You might end up behind a Coolie in the dinner line or get into an elevator with one. If he or she is feeling particularly magnanimous, they might even speak to you. But no matter how nice you are or how much you flatter them, don't expect an invitation to play out of the deal. I'm not saying that Cools and the Not Cools don't mix at parties. This isn't the Jets and the Sharks. But you'll never be welcomed in and shown the secret handshake. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Nowhere is the line between the Cools and the Not Cools drawn more clearly than on Fetlife. Having been on it for six years and seen the changes that time has wrought, I know what I'm talking about. One thing that is the most obvious is that the Cool Kids get responded to--in the groups, on their writings and most of all on their photos. They never miss a party, no matter how far flung the location so they have been everywhere and done everything and looked really...well, cool...doing it. They know all the right people, wear exactly the right outfit at all times, and never miss a photo op because there's always someone there who wants to take pictures of them. So their pics on Fetlife get a lot of attention, which spreads their coolness even further. Their writings, even when they're being acerbic, are met with "Love ya!" and "Hugs!"</span>. <span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> Let a Not Cool write the same thing and you'll be met with "Stop bringing your negativity here. Go be negative in private." And that's the nicer stuff. If a Coolie posts a writing about how bad their day is going and how mean everyone is to them, you can expect their Coolie friends to fill the comment section with "We all love you!" and "F$&k those losers. They don't count in the long run." Let a Not Cool person post the same thing and you will be told to throw your pity party in private. Because you know, no one likes a Debbie Downer. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This might all seem terribly unfair and yes, it is unfair. But life is unfair. I bought my helmet a long time ago. I'm not crying over it. I'm simply stating how things are. Would I want to be one of the Cool Kids? Heck no. There's a certain, shall we say...shallowness to them. That's not to say that the Cool Kids can't or don't form substantial friendships or that they don't really care about each other deep down. But a lot of things surrounding the Cool Kids are surface, it's the illusion that's important. I'm not saying that the Not Cools can't be shallow because believe me, they can. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I hate to use the word phony but there are a lot of them in the party scene, whether Cool Kid or not. But I pride myself on being in person exactly how I am on Fetlife. What you see is what you get. I know I rub a lot of people the wrong way and some of those people are pretty well placed. Do I care? Not really because I'm not going to be someone I'm not so people will like me. I'd rather be myself and risk not being what everyone is into. Being a Not-So-Cool kid has its advantages, too. I don't have to be what others want me to be for fear of not being seen as cool. I'm already seen as not cool so there's really no pressure on me. I don't have to live up to other peoples' expectations of me. My friends know what to expect from me and they know the "real me" so I don't have to constantly be trying to impress people with my coolness. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So I guess I'll finish up by dispelling some of the "myths" about me that have sprung up from time to time.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">1) I didn't get my tattoos so people would think I was cool. I got them because I like them. Most of the actual Cool Kids I know don't even have ink.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">2) I don't act younger than I am to try and fit in with the young Cool Kids. I have always looked and acted younger than I was. I got the Student Discount on the city bus until I was almost 30. Unfortunately, I was also carded a lot.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">3) I use the fact that I don't drink, smoke or swear to make myself seem superior to others. Not true. I did a great deal of all three of those things in the past, I just don't do them anymore. Feel free to do what feels right to you.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">OK, you get the picture. I'm not cool and I can live with that. It's the fact that no one admits that these two groups exist that I'm not OK with. It ought to be as plain as the nose on one's face. There's no point in denying the reality of this situation. Bringing this subject out of the dark and calling it what it is might actually help the divisiveness that seems to exist in the spanking party world. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>Cherylhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10092104839626502119noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3093759595584573218.post-39434451163517932372014-09-06T19:08:00.001-07:002014-09-06T19:08:01.649-07:00The Masochist's Conundrum <span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"If only pain weren't so painful!"- Albert Fish</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It has taken me a very long time and a lot of soul searching to finally admit to myself that I'm a masochist. Even three or four years ago I was still in heavy duty denial that that was the case. I've been a hard player for years and when tops (or even other bottoms) would tell me "Cheryl, you're a masochist" I would say "No, I'm not!". Somehow, enjoying the pain of a good spanking wasn't the same as masochism. I always pictured masochists in chains and a collar being tortured while blood dripped from their wounds. Perhaps that's an incorrect assessment, but that's how I felt. No way was I one of <i>them</i>. I have enjoyed being strapped over fresh cane welts, being paddled hard over already bruised flesh, and a lot of other things that would make most people cringe. But, because my first love is spanking, people call me "practically vanilla". But would a vanilla lady enjoy having the fronts of her thighs caned? Or being strapped for an hour or so with an Arkansas prison strap? Not very likely. </span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn6__VyvM9O51yZaslkwbc5zD5u7sESU-hNe75P7hlV2E_eu0C9bDQroayTdh_LolwIO7Q-1KrPsG6RPG6oq0ucH0zKW4SMyUFueItPwbks_Ljg1-dHyZFggls39HL9MYUWiN0CIX_kO4A/s1600/Bubba16.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn6__VyvM9O51yZaslkwbc5zD5u7sESU-hNe75P7hlV2E_eu0C9bDQroayTdh_LolwIO7Q-1KrPsG6RPG6oq0ucH0zKW4SMyUFueItPwbks_Ljg1-dHyZFggls39HL9MYUWiN0CIX_kO4A/s1600/Bubba16.jpg" height="243" width="320" /></a></span></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Most vanilla women (and most men for that matter) that I know would turn tail and run if a big 6'4" cowboy named Bubba walked up to them carrying one of those things. Yet, I love it, as my smile surely attests. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But why pain? Why not something else? Even to someone who loves it, pain hurts. Pain is what I love, what I at times dread, what I need. I don't think of myself as someone who needs to be constantly punished because my existence is an abomination. I hold down regular jobs, have normal, non-kinky interests, and hate humiliation (something I used to incorrectly think that all masochists were into). There are times when I'm afraid of just how much pain I can take in the right circumstances. Outwardly, I make the same faces that most spanko bottoms make when something connects with their bottom.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7l0VxzagFfvGRBSr7Qf-FJ66DrH8sKMUyBCnZU3X7FfG1e6tRUlPIhkPiu-HZgQYeBK4Tre2L6mpNDO9u1b3U3lM7G8pIzM31uM30O7o4hdN_Ehliun3hyphenhyphencPLDHg-6opE_VQdIeO0aMgy/s1600/Spanked2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7l0VxzagFfvGRBSr7Qf-FJ66DrH8sKMUyBCnZU3X7FfG1e6tRUlPIhkPiu-HZgQYeBK4Tre2L6mpNDO9u1b3U3lM7G8pIzM31uM30O7o4hdN_Ehliun3hyphenhyphencPLDHg-6opE_VQdIeO0aMgy/s1600/Spanked2.jpg" height="306" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But inwardly, I'm in total masochistic heaven. Even the bath brush, which I hate with every fiber of my being makes me push my bottom out to meet it. So here's the conundrum...I love pain and even love the marks that show up afterward. But emotionally, I wonder if it's not time to dial it down a couple notches? Physically, I have no problem taking just about anything the sadistic bastards I play with want to dish out. But sometimes, my emotions get the better of me afterwards and, after the sadist packs his toybag and heads for the door, I sometimes find myself either feeling angry or crying my eyes out. I don't feel like it's something I can ask about on Fetlife because people would all have something to say on the matter that has nothing to do with what I'm asking. I also don't feel like it's anything I can talk to those sadists about either. Though I know a couple of them would be more than happy to hold me until I get out all the stuff that needs to come out.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So here's another thing that sticks in my throat. When I first started in the spanking scene, I just wanted my bottom beat. I didn't want any of that other stuff--like cuddles or talking time. Just lotion was sufficient. Now I find myself needing more than that. I do need to be held sometimes and given chocolate and a cold drink. I don't want the guy to just beat me and leave. So broaching the subject is hard. I have always considered myself a lady who has no problem coming out and saying what she needs. But it seems to be on everything except my need for some kind of comforting after a really intense scene. I think some Chinese food would be very comforting indeed. Or maybe just a chocolate shake or something. But I'm afraid it would be regarded as me "going soft" by the people who have known me for so long. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Eventually, I'm just going to have to put on my Big Girl Panties and bring it up the next time I get together with someone.</span><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>Cherylhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10092104839626502119noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3093759595584573218.post-75747088032019204672014-08-31T11:33:00.003-07:002014-08-31T11:33:49.238-07:00Playing Hard<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">From the very start, I've been a hard player. I don't apologize for that. Light play has rarely done anything for me. I've always needed hard play; the kind that leaves bruises and welts and occasionally, blood. It's not because I'm out to prove something to people nor do I want any kind of accolades for how hard I play. A good friend once told me "They don't give you the keys to the city for playing hard." That's certainly true. Back in my newbie days, it seemed like a lot of people played hard. This could just have been my perception being skewed, but it really did seem like most tops spanked harder and most bottoms wanted it that way.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But even then, I was a bit of an oddity. Although it seemed we all played harder back then, my reason was different than most. Most of the ladies I knew were submissives and they took those hard spankings because the person they were playing with wanted them to. I did it because I loved the pain and I loved having a bruised bottom the next day. I've had to come to terms with my masochism. Yesterday, I did something quite a bit different than anything I've ever done before. I did a quasi-disciplinary scene with a top friend that I trust completely. We set up the camera and tripod and figured out how, in the limited space we had, we were going to set this up. I explained to him the kind of scene I wanted--a 30-stroke caning with my medium Smoked Dragon cane while I was bent over a chair and made to stay in position. Usually, when I'm caned, I'm lying on a nice comfortable bed with some pillows under me and I can just relax into it. But standing up is a whole other matter. I wanted to see if I could still take a hard caning with my head space altered. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I have long maintained that I don't do real discipline of any kind, whether it's a spanking or lines or having soap in my mouth (yuck! what a horrid experience!). But I've done those things during what we call "funishment" (except for the mouth soaping...I don't see myself ever doing that). I had a switch taken to me during one funishment scene and the marks were there for almost a month. I also enjoy having the fronts (or backs) of my thighs caned. These scenes usually leave the most dramatic marks.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMAeIzeNmpzsxZ5ULL59dVyzDFal2u68kqlKOdypzcQN0cFcnooarGNd-VhzXb5Vqj99E1QPXT6oeNVnPnw-ntvImdTZtiImfZW9u85qEp7E75p3se8Q6Xo1TxgC4tjjUzjGlJrqec5TMY/s1600/Thighs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMAeIzeNmpzsxZ5ULL59dVyzDFal2u68kqlKOdypzcQN0cFcnooarGNd-VhzXb5Vqj99E1QPXT6oeNVnPnw-ntvImdTZtiImfZW9u85qEp7E75p3se8Q6Xo1TxgC4tjjUzjGlJrqec5TMY/s1600/Thighs.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">For me, if it doesn't leave me marked and sore, it's not worth it. Of course, a red bottom is nice. I love to get photos of it when it's been spanked red. But aside from the pretty color, I usually come away disappointed in a scene like that. Unless my bottom is throbbing sore, I can't say I fully enjoyed it. Yesterday's scene was so severe that just pulling up my pants was painful. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVo_d7uGURi4RdNpUYTggjkKhNmI2MF5s1cnf6zyOpBU58hdJCxqqitWWlJXRrtteM0lTPF3XYlMX-xbkdGg51ihV_zo_cmY__0_4V8zE5XFz9zinGgAgzouf9IRWe7WcCeRrza7rBiFTK/s1600/blood.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVo_d7uGURi4RdNpUYTggjkKhNmI2MF5s1cnf6zyOpBU58hdJCxqqitWWlJXRrtteM0lTPF3XYlMX-xbkdGg51ihV_zo_cmY__0_4V8zE5XFz9zinGgAgzouf9IRWe7WcCeRrza7rBiFTK/s1600/blood.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The thing about yesterday's caning was that we had to film it twice, so instead of taking 30 stokes, I actually took 60 (and we had played with an assortment of straps, too between filming). The first time we did it, the video failed to load for some reason. I was disappointed because I thought it was just about perfect. When we made the decision to re-shoot the caning, Clayton (the top I was playing with) asked if I was sure. I told him not to hold back just because I was sore. The result left me bruised and bloodied, but happy to have "proven" to myself that I could take it.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The thing about playing hard is this: people who don't play hard nearly always think we do it to shock people or to get attention. That's not true, at least, it's not in my own case. Like any kind of play, there's usually a deep seated reason why a person would willingly choose to put herself (or himself if you roll that way) through a scene that would leave most people feeling traumatized. After I play really hard, I always come away feeling focused and re-centered. For me, pain is a purifier and only spanking gives me the kind of pain I love. Even within the realm of a masochist, I don't consider myself extreme. There are people who go way beyond anything I would enjoy. I'm talking about hook suspension (where meat hooks, like they use for hanging sides of beef, are put into the back and the person is lifted up by them) and studded paddles and bullwhips. I'm actually pretty tame compared to those folks who enjoy that kind of stuff. I'm OK with the occasional drop or two of blood, but I would never want to be covered in it. I know people who enjoy that. I say do whatever blows your hair back. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I got the fronts of my thighs properly caned in Atlantic City this past spring by a real Englishman. I have already described the scene in another entry so I won't elaborate here. Anyway, when the scene was done, I went into the bathroom to get a look at the damage.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSB2PQEQll2-ivcyCAAgdhm1aQ2yxGP_d6rgULHXdGc5oJO_0RHsifv8ebHB2NGRGrjlhyphenhyphenLlD7avVbozPb_5POLB_MfZvW6er0yPHyo6DIgSrw26vaFSQ38WeSne08HKooDLCud1w48oji/s1600/Caned+Thighs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSB2PQEQll2-ivcyCAAgdhm1aQ2yxGP_d6rgULHXdGc5oJO_0RHsifv8ebHB2NGRGrjlhyphenhyphenLlD7avVbozPb_5POLB_MfZvW6er0yPHyo6DIgSrw26vaFSQ38WeSne08HKooDLCud1w48oji/s1600/Caned+Thighs.jpg" height="320" width="310" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The scene had been a public one, with a mostly appreciative audience. When I went into the bathroom, a lady who had witnessed the scene asked me "How can you like that?" She was incredulous. "We all like what we like," I told her. I was absolutely flying and to be honest, that lady's judgmental comment was ruining my high. Now, don't get me wrong. I'm not one of those hard players that goes around belittling people because they don't play as hard as I do. If I see a scene where someone takes a spanking that, for me, would have been nothing but a warm up, I'm not going to yell "Amateur!" at them. Pain is a lot like beauty. It's in the eye of the beholder. If that person thinks they took something that challenged them, then they have the right to feel proud about what they took. It's not mine or anyone else's place to tell them what "hard really is." To them, it was hard and so that's valid.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I get kind of impatient with people who tell others "You don't know what a hard spanking is!" My pain tolerance is very high and it takes a lot to get me to saturation point. So yes, I need a harder spanking to get me to my "happy place". But not everyone is like that. For some, just a hard hand spanking gets them to the saturation point, where they begin to exhibit avoidance behavior, like putting their hands behind them or wriggling or squirming. When we did that 30-stroke caning yesterday, I was so proud of myself for staying (mostly) in position. I know there are people out there who could have taken more or taken it more stoically than I did, but this was my scene so I was happy. What other people do or what they take is their business. Which leads me to comments on photos. I have seen it repeatedly on Fetlife where someone will post a photo of their bottom with a caption like "Wow, was that intense!" or something like that. And at least one person will say something stupid like "Now that you're warmed up, I'll break out the barbed wire flogger!" or something just as stupid. Even I have posted photos of my bottom and had someone comment that it could be "a lot redder".</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsHPk-j1_rB3gpMCE4TJHcJ8FYizzwBPcMZ4s3dbBNNhiMpR7z3SyIQt1_EzQnWrSrA67bGeqQUtpwVZ0170pA6zUiLh9XR_wo2BdhuMep0pxULvNqbQfu6FiiaKHFxh-dvgmkyDV6d3Jc/s1600/FunAllowed.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsHPk-j1_rB3gpMCE4TJHcJ8FYizzwBPcMZ4s3dbBNNhiMpR7z3SyIQt1_EzQnWrSrA67bGeqQUtpwVZ0170pA6zUiLh9XR_wo2BdhuMep0pxULvNqbQfu6FiiaKHFxh-dvgmkyDV6d3Jc/s1600/FunAllowed.jpg" height="320" width="183" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Take this photo, for example. I actually had someone post a comment saying "I could do a much better job!" So I explained to this person that this was my first spanking during a three-day party and that on the first night, most of us admittedly play much lighter than we do on the last night. I explained to him that we do that because each of us only has one bottom and if it gets bruised up on the first night, then we might as well go home because no one is going to spank on fresh bruises. I don't think he bought it.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I also dislike the implication that really hard players are unsafe, that they just want their thrill without worrying about the consequences. While there are people out there who do play unsafely, most of us, even edge players, play with every safety precaution in place. Yes, I've been injured. Twice, I had to go to the ER because a spanking went wrong. But for the most part, I usually only end up needing arnica and not a doctor. Do accidents happen? Absolutely. But accidents can happen anytime, anywhere. Accidents can happen crossing the street or having sex or cooking your holiday turkey. Just because an activity carries risk is no reason not to do it. Not every person who crosses the street gets hit by a bus. Not every person cooking their holiday turkey burns their house down. And not every person that has sex has a heart attack. These things can and do happen, but is that any reason not to engage in an activity you enjoy? Weigh the odds of something bad happening and then make up your own mind. That's what SSC (Safe, Sane and Consensual) and RACK (Risk-Aware Consensual Kink) are all about. Know what you're getting yourself into before you agree to do it. Even then, if the scene goes wrong, you can safe word out. I know there are hard players out there who play without a safe word (because, you know, it's all about trust and if you have a safe word, you must not trust me...blah blah blah). But even a safe word isn't a guarantee. Because a safe word is only good if it's respected. There are no guarantees in the BDSM world that nothing will go wrong.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I won't deny that being a hard player has its pitfalls. But I wouldn't give up how I play for anything. The physical and emotional rewards are just too precious to me to even consider it. I'll continue to be cautious and to play with people I know and trust, whose reputations precede them. I won't be shamed or called a "freak". We all have to do what makes us happy. Another person may not understand my need for pain the same way I don't understand their need to have a bedtime forced on them or being made to stand in the corner. But we all live in this "community" of kinky folks and while we may not understand each other, we should make an effort to tolerate each other.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>Cherylhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10092104839626502119noreply@blogger.com0