I recently came across the following photo caption on Fetlife from one of my friends:

hold me like you love me and fuck me like you don’t 💓

I’ve had a nonzero number of sex partners in my life, and I’ve never once fucked one of them like I don’t at the very least like them. I can’t imagine having sex with someone I don’t like — hatefucking is not something that I’m particularly interested in. I can fuck someone with the same intensity that one might use during hatefucking without actually hating them. Hell, even when I was married the first time and we were getting to the point where I despised her I still never hatefucked her.

I don’t think I’ll ever understand the concept of having sex with someone you don’t like. Even if I were to go out to a bar and pick someone up, I would still like them at least a little before I brought them home (or went to their house). When I’m at spanking parties, I might play with someone I’ve never met before, but we still have a chat and if I don’t like the way the chat is going I won’t play with them. And if I don’t like someone (and there are people in the spanking community that I don’t like, believe it or not), I’m not going to spank them no matter how enjoyable it might be. That’s for fantasies and stories, like “National Leadership Day” in Holiday Heat: September. Here’s a snippet:

“I’m just doing my job, and I’m good at it. My work should speak for itself.”

“You’re right,” Paul agreed. “You’re good at your job, and your work should speak for itself. Unfortunately, that’s not the way it works. You have to be a good citizen of the workplace, whether you’re in the office or telecommuting.”

“So what negative things am I accused of saying?”

Trish sat and listened as Paul listed off several examples, and without revealing her opinion on her face, Trish started to feel sorry for Paul — he had to deal with a problem employee who was doing something unquantifiable; it was impossible to measure negative attitude the same way one could measure, for example, time spent working or tasks completed. “Basically,” Paul said, “we need to have this discussion so you know where you stand.”

“Are you putting me on a plan?”

“No. Not yet. But we need to see an immediate change in your attitude. It’s National Leadership Day,” he said, “and it’s time for me to show some leadership.” 

“What?”

Here was where the scenario diverged from reality. “I’ve been authorized to take some… unorthodox… measures.”

“Unorthodox? What do you mean by that?”

Paul took a wooden paddle out of the drawer of the desk and laid it on the surface. It was about as long as his forearm, not including the handle, and there were twelve pencil-sized holes drilled through it. Trish was legitimately worried; she didn’t like paddles at the best of times, and this was really going to hurt. At least it was the last day of the spanking party; if Trish got bruised, it was okay.

Well, not really okay, but she’d agreed to this, and if things went too far, she had a safeword. Which she was not planning to use, but she was glad of it. “What is that?”

“It’s a paddle,” Paul said. “You’ve talked about your history and opinions on spanking plenty of times; I know you know what’s going to happen next.”

Trish pushed her chair back. “No way!” she snapped. “You are not touching me with that! Or anything!”

“I think you’ll reconsider,” he said, “because if you don’t agree to a paddling, you will be put on a performance plan.”

See? Fantasy. And even in this story, Paul and Trish are friends who are engaged in role-play so it’s not like he’s really upset with her.

Don’t hatefuck. It sends mixed messages.