I recently heard from a friend, who said she’d be shooting a video soon, with the subject being a sort of tongue-in-cheek penance for a past guilt — in her case, failing to return a library book. While this seems like a rather mild crime to me (especially since I still, to this day, have two books in my shelves with the Beverly Hills High School Library timecard in them), I can see how it could be made into a rather funny video.
But this got me thinking. While a lot of people spank just for fun, others do use it to relieve stress and/or release guilt. Have any of you ever thought, just for the heck of it, about anything in your past that you probably should have been spanked for, but weren’t? Would it make for a cathartic scene if you were to address it now? Or maybe even a fun role-play scene?
I know, without giving it more than a few seconds of thought, what my past crime would be. Or, at least, what you guys would consider a past spankable offense.
When I was in my early teens, I hitchhiked. Several times.
Oh, don’t look so shocked. It was the early 70s. Back then, everyone did it. OK, not everyone, but a whole lot more people. I know, I know. It still was a stupid, unsafe thing to do. But consider my situation. I lived high up in a canyon area, far from the bus lines. I didn’t ride a bike. My dad wouldn’t let me ride in a car with older kids who had licenses. I hated being dependent on my dad or stepmother to drive me everywhere, and they weren’t too thrilled about it either. My brother had done it for years, in his teens. And… well, I lived in Beverly Hills. It wasn’t exactly a high crime area.
I didn’t do it that much. Just here and there, with friends, to get from Point A to Point B if we didn’t have rides, or didn’t have bus fare (or just didn’t want to spend it). Yeah, I know. It only takes one bad time (hanging head in shame). But I guess I was lucky. We never got picked up by anyone who was anything less than perfectly nice and friendly.
But I recall one time when I was extra stupid.
It was a Saturday; my folks were out doing something or another and I had plans to visit some friends in “the flats” (the part of BH below the canyons). My dad had left me cab fare to get there (yes, I took a lot of cabs in those days too), and they would pick me up later that evening. Since my friends lived just a couple of blocks from the main shopping area of BH, I decided to cab to the center of the city so I could shop for while, have some lunch, and then I’d walk to my friends.
I wore a skimpy crop top and tight jeans (of course, everything was tight on me, back then), and as I walked down Beverly Drive that afternoon, some fancy sports car (a Jaguar? I forget) pulled into a driveway in front of me. The top was down, and a very handsome man (maybe around 30?) called out to me. “Hey, gorgeous, can I drop you off anywhere?”
I smiled at him. “No, thanks — I’m just walking for a couple of blocks.”
“Honey,” he replied, “with a body like that, I’d take you anywhere.”
massive eye roll Oh, brother. But at the very naive age of fourteen, my head was turned by lines like that. Besides, I wasn’t used to getting compliments on my body, or much of anything else.
He pushed the passenger’s side door open and I hopped in. “Where to?” he asked, and I told him. As we drove toward the residential area, he asked what I do. I told him I was still in school. “Oh, college?”
“No, high school.”
I thought I felt the car swerve, just slightly. “Senior?” he asked, his voice taking on a slight edge.
This time, the car definitely jerked. “Um… how old are you?” he stammered.
“Fourteen,” I answered.
I couldn’t understand why he had gone from being so friendly to so thoroughly uncomfortable. “Oh… oh, god,” he stuttered. “I’m… sorry. I thought you were a lot older.” He then took a deep breath and refocused on the road. “So, OK, where do you want me to drop you off?”
I directed him to the street and he pulled up to the curb, seeming very eager to get me the hell out of that car. As I opened the door, he laughed nervously and asked, “So where did you get a body like that at fourteen??”
(Um, I dunno… Kraft Macaroni & Cheese??) I didn’t know how to answer that, so just shrugged and smiled at him, thanking him politely as I exited. And he tore off like he had a firecracker in his tailpipe.
I can’t help but wonder how that little scenario would have played out, had I been legal. Or if he hadn’t been so scrupulous about my being underage. Yeah, I know, things could have been very different that day. But what the hell. I turned out OK, right? 😀
Anyone else want to play along and share a past “indiscretion”?