A few days ago I was exchanging email with one of the biggest stars in the world of spanking media. A young woman of uncommon beauty, intelligence and talent. During the course of our electronic conversation this lovely young woman told me that despite her success she doesn't possess a credit card. She chalked that up to her impoverished beginnings. She was taught never to incur debt. Several years ago that was true of me as well. Off course, now I own several

My correspondence with this bright and talented girl touched me deeply, for like her I too was born into poverty. I grew up in a poor Italian family from a mining town. Let me tell assure you, poverty is an unforgiving bitch! My father was a postal worker with five kids to feed. That alone would have been hard, but my dad, being the good Catholic that he was, tithed ten percent of his earnings to the Church. (Before taxes!) My siblings and I often went to bed hungry. We were told to offer it up to God as a sacrifice for our sins.

I survived my childhood because I was good at the books, (It kept my mind off of things... like food!) and the love of my sister Janice. I shared a very small bed with my beloved sister. She was but two years older than I. We shared our secrets, pain, favorite pop bands and most importantly, body heat. Our house was always so damn cold. Janice and I spent most winter nights night folded together as one. As we got older we then shared our interests in boys and sex. Due to the lack of room and privacy we often masturbated together. Hey we gave each other helpful hints. It's nice to share common interests with one's sister.

There was always one thing that I was sure of, I was going to escape that horrible little town. I was a straight "A" student in high school. My route of escape was to be a college education. I didn't know how to pay for it, but there was no doubt in my mind that I was going to college. Early in my senior year I was informed that my dream had become a reality. I had been awarded a full scholarship to a very nice school in the Eastern US. I was ecstatic, my parents were not. They told me that there was no way that I was going to college. It was supposedly my duty to go to work in our town to support the family and leave only when I was ready to marry. I was sixteen years old at the time. I told them I was going to college whether they liked it or not. My father then beat me with his thick leather belt. It was a rather predictable response really. Secretly, I accepted my scholarship and placement at the college. I didn't feel that I could tell anyone. Not my friends or even my Janice. Two weeks before the start of classes, I left my family home without a word. I left a note for Janice trying to explain why I left the way that I did. I wanted her to join me in my new life. I had hoped that it could have been a new start for the both of us. I remember calling Janice at my first opportunity after getting settled in at school. I was dying to hear her voice. I remember the elation that I felt when she answered the phone. I had called at a time when she would be home and my parents away. I also recall the way that I almost stopped breathing when my sister told me what a selfish little bitch I was. I cried for days after that. (Hell I'm crying now just thinking about it.) The only person in the world that I cared about would now have nothing to do with me.

Fortunately, I had a terrific roommate who took me under her wing. She actually bought me clothes. " Oh sweetie... these will never do". I recall her saying. She was a wild rich girl and I was a cautious poor kid.

I now am doing quite well, thank you. I have a Ph.D. in Physics and I am an official with an agency of the US government that keeps you safe from nuclear disaster. Yes this foul mouthed, over sexed Italian girl looks out for you each day. I have a wonderful husband who loves and spanks me. I am so very lucky.

There are days when I feel the insecurity that comes with such an austere beginning. Then I run out and buy something extravagant. That tends to do the trick.

Love to all poor girls,
Dorothy