Moving Day!

Well, I got packed quicker than I thought. Rusty Nale has a new address. These doors on this blog will remain open for those who can't find their way.

However, my new lodging is at:



Please don't forsake me - come to my new digs, and bring your friends ... there's room!

And, THANK YOU all for your patience and dedication. Always, Rusty!


Review and/or Purchase Your Copy of My New Book

Friday, January 8, 2010

A Different Kind of Hurt; The Kind That Comes From Within

So yes, dears, I have been absent a long while. I'm sorry, but life happens and I've had some inner struggles as well as serious family issues I had to tend to. But I have returned, because there's no place like home, and where else can I vent, question and scream at the top of my lungs without judgment?

In answer to some (silly nillies') question, no, I have not been spanked lately. Nor have I found anyone worthy of spanking me. But, worse than that, I feel as if I've been spanked in the heart.

If you did not know, I've been divorced for less than a year after a 17 year marriage that was more platonic than anything else. Upon the eve of my 55th year, I wanted to fulfill my desire to be in a spanking relationship - not so much as a sub, but well, just to meet my needs as a spankee in a loving, playful relationship.

Well, I'd pretty much given up on finding that; I met more wannabees and fake asses than anything, or men who wanted more - much more. So, I had decided to just go ahead and focus on (hopefully) meeting someone for a vanilla relationship and forget all my dreaming. And I did. A few. But my problem is, I can't keep my mouth shut, and I always tell them about my desires - and that either leads to a quick departure or someone trying to convert me. These acts only make me realize all the more that I really do have to have some level of spanking in my life, if anything, to keep my mind in check; it's therapeutic - screaming on a keyboard is nothing like letting it go beneath the sharp sting of a paddle ...

But, I met him. I'd met him some time ago online and we became friends. But he was elusive and sometimes I'd hear from him, sometimes not ... but I always liked him. Then we re-met again recently, and became very close ... I think we did ... he said we did, and I trusted him. Plans were made to get together and things seemed to be going well. I began to ignore my other suitors, did not return phone calls, emails, or the rare box of Christmas candy that came in the mail. My heart was shanghaied in an instant.

Funny, isn't it, when you decide to finally settle down and focus on one partner, when out of the blue, they all come out of the woodwork - all of those that you longed for so long ago, but they never had the patience or would give you the time of day. So they fuck up their lives, run to the arms of another, and want you to fix it ... My grandmother, a God- fearing righteous woman, would have had a genteel answer for this. She would have simply said, "Fuck-Em!"

So, why is it hurting me so deeply? Why does my heart ache like a sickeningly stupid school girl's? Why does this still happen at this point in life?

I believed when I first divorced, that meeting a man of a certain age would be simple and enjoyable. Who knew they all had these weird agendas? Either they had been married to the same woman all of their adult lives, and were newly divorced or widowed, and they wanted to make up for lost time - sow some oats that have long gone rancid - believing that the 20 year old celluloid cupie doll came with brains and wants him?

Am I ranting today in this new year? Hell yes! It's my fucking blog!