Monthly Archives: September 2014

What if You Spanked Me?

What Would Happen if You Spanked Me?

I’d weep.

I’d fly apart into a million pieces and could never ever be put together again.

Really.

That’s how I feel. Like I could be caned out existence. Or thrashed into madness.

Playing sounds dangerous. Edgy.

Worse though, what if I didn’t fly apart?

What if I didn’t weep?

What if I am just numb?

Who Is Mija? Playing on ello.

Ello

This was originally blogged as my first new content post for ello

Where is Mija? Who is mijita?

Can I even introduce her anymore?

It’s funny how I can be seduced by something new and shiny. I’m exploring ello and suddenly want to write about spanking and kink again. This is new. Or maybe renewed.

Life has been good lately, filled with work that I love, and I do mean love. The research, the writing, even the grading. Everything about teaching what I teach to whom I teach is a joy. But it’s also very grown up, very responsible. For years my spanking kink has been an escape back into childhood (for good and ill and all the baggage that carries). For years I was a school girl getting thrashed for not being responsible. For not writing her dissertation. But now it’s written.

Now I am responsible. Really. The people who know my college professor self wouldn’t recognize the girl thrashed for ignoring her research. I’m not sure I even recognize her anymore. I love my research, horde the hours I get to lavish on it. Love preparing my courses, am working devilishly hard to land an elusive tenure track job so I can keep doing this thing I love so much.

It all feels terrifyingly fragile. Like if I let go at all I’ll wake up and this thing I want to badly will have slipped through my fingers. Time feels so precious. Yet kink, my kink anyway, needs time, needs space. Physical and brain.

Add to that the medications that keep me sane also dampen (ha! like salt peter) my desires, making my fantasies quieter and tamer than they’ve ever been and, well, basically I’ve been de-kinked. A prospect that in my early 20s would have made me happy. Now it feels like part of me, an important part of me that I love, is numb.

And yet today, September 28, 2014, doing the things I do on new social media like defining spanking, and posting an old story, I find I’m thinking more and more about my kink. Wanting to say something, wanting to find room for Mija. I even got my old usenet name, “mijita” which thrills me a surprising amount.

Not really sure what I want to say.

But ello.