Wednesday, August 1, 2007

Abigail vs. Abby

(photo:, still from "Lolita")

It's been one of those days--the kind that should end with a bottle of wine, a soak in the tub, and a shoulder massage. Yesterday was one of those days, greeted with a gray skirt and white blouse fit for a schoolgirl, coaxed throughout the afternoon with naughty text messages about what shade my bottom would be by the end of the night, and then, sadly, ended with a troupe of friends showing up at the house unannounced, the spanking left only to our imaginations and to what should have been today.

What do I do when a play-date overlaps with a day that wants to drink and be done with it? Who wins out when the little girl wants to be punished severely like she was promised, but the woman fears it might just be too much? I don't want to back out in case it's what I really need at the heart of it. But I also don't want to get started and realize I just can't.

If I let myself go, let myself be the little girl, I might not want to come back from it. If I go to that headspace, I want to be there for a while. To escape, to relish the experience, to stay, as if on vacation, until I am ready to come back and deal with the world again. How fantastic it would be to call in "immature" to work tomorrow. "I'm sorry, I'm only sixteen today, I've been terribly naughty and have to stay in the corner with a sore bottom, and really, I just failed out of math, do you really want me in your accounting department anyway?" I think that would be followed well with a snap of gum and a "Like, you know?" But tomorrow is Thursday, and in my position, Thursday is the most important day of the week. I could have the plague, nevermind a case of the teens, and still have to go the office.

I have a few more minutes before my husband gets home to decide what to do. As a precaution, I've bought steak and shrimp cocktail and plan to attempt to bribe him, but I haven't even figured out the bribe yet. To play lightly? To play viciously, to take me out of myself? To get that shoulder massage? Alas, even steak and shrimp could not bribe that sort of play into reality, unless it comes with a post-massage sting.


  1. Oh my, how I love this post, your fantasies, your writing.....*sigh*.... :-))


  2. Oh how tempted am I to phone in "immature" to work today, that would be the best thing ever, sadly I just have to go there and pretend to be all grown up... *sigh* never mind, I'm always a naughty little girl who needs a good spanking in my head, that'll have to do during working hours.

    lovely blog, thank you :)

  3. Dave--Thank you for adding me to your links! That made me do little happy dances on my uncomfortable seat! I'm always happy to see you stop by. :-)

    Sarah--Thank you! I think one day we all ought to plan a "call in to work immature" day. At least it's Friday--we don't have to be grown-ups for much longer this week! :)


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