How it all started?

Here's a little about me that a lot of people don't know..

I'm 20, and I'm a spanko. Point blank.

I'm submissive in my marriage, but in reality.. not really at all. I'm a lost little girl looking to find her way through life.. some way, some how. The easiest way, probably.

When I met Scott there was something about him that I didn't see in all the other boys.

Boys...

Scott was a man. I was a new found woman. I was barely 18 and had just lost my grandma. My mom set it up so that she died while I held her hand. I think about it all the time. Sometimes I think she overdosed her with morphine. Actually, I'm pretty sure she did. I've heard her say things about it, and she told me later on that she knew Grandma was going to die.. and she sent me in there so she wouldn't be alone.

I've been to about 11 funerals since I was 12, and I've never been to one that was closed casket.

I don't know why I'm ranting on about that.. it's just something that has really changed me. I turned into a different person after my Grandmother died.

When I was five, my cousin was four (a boy cousin), and we were at my house being baby sat by a young family friend. He was like a brother of a family friend that had (and has) been around forever. He's gay, always has been, and was probably around 17 or 18 at the time, give or take a few years.

I don't know what we did, or my cousin (I should say), but I know our baby sitter was mad. He took my cousin into a room and placed him ever so carefully across his lap. Down came his pants, and I stood there.. in the door way. I was frightened, spankings always made me so scared. The baby sitter looked at me as he gently rubbed my cousins behind, and warned me that I was next if I misbehaved at all.

He would swat, hard, then rub. After a few swats my mind goes black. I don't remember anything but that. Sometimes I have nightmares and flashes of it comes back. Sometimes I daydream and I see a little, too.

I've always had a tickle in my stomach when I thought about it... as I'm pretty sure I witnessed my cousin being molested. Sometimes I'm not sure if it's just my imagination making up things, but I just know that there's a knot in my stomach every time I think about it.

I realized, not too long ago, that this is probably where my interest in spanking began. It was always a subject of fascination.. it gave me that weird knot in my stomach whenever I heard the word, or overheard a few swats at a friend or family member's house.

When my mother grabbed me by my upper arm to take a swat at my behind, or when she'd carefully pull me across her lap, I'd scream and cry. It scared the shit out of me. It was the most uncomfortable feeling in the world.

I didn't dislike it the way a kid is supposed to dislike a spanking, I disliked it the way a kid dislikes being molested.

I feared it, loathed it, and it always brought me back to that dark place... but I never knew or realized that.

I never realized that my interest in spanking or the desire to have so done to me by a strange, older man, was in any way harmful.

I always turned it into something great. It gave me that rush, like the first time you try meth. It hurt my heart and pushed it to the back of my throat.

It just did, and does, something to me.

I never thought about where it came from.. until recently.

I want to be submissive, I want to be a better person.

I want to be something I've never been..

But I'm just too stubborn and lazy to properly act on it, or follow through with it.

It's so hard.. it's so hard.

And most of the time I feel like I'm doing it alone.

Answer me this question, please:

Is it true that all happy housewives... are medicated?