Tuesday, July 10, 2018

Playing in New York

This is from four years ago (that's what the date on the other blog says, but I thought for sure it was five years ago!

The bold type is comments from G.
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So I got to spend just short (one day) of two whole weeks in New York.  The weather cooperated, we did lots of things like mini golf (I beat G.!) and go karts (he didn’t lap me!  Yay me!), saw a couple movies, Guardians of the Galaxy and Fury, both of which are good movies, we went to a cider mill to get apples and cider (after we figured out where the hell it was LOL),

That, I will point out, was due to the address we initially used being flat wrong.  We were going to drive there from a place I knew how to get to, so it wasn’t until we got there and I tried plugging the address we had into the GPS that I saw there was a problem.  The next try had the GPS still not finding the address, so we called and they: 1) confirmed that they have trouble feeding their address into GPS devices too  and 2) Gave us enough info that we were able to get there.
AND we went upstate to  the Doctor Who themed restaurant, The Pandorica.  G. doesn’t know much from Doctor Who, but he was willing to drive up there so that I could go.  It was great, the people who work there are total Doctor Who freaks too, and they let you pick which episode of the show you want to watch.

The only fly in the ointment was, literally, a fly.  I find the presence flies intolerable in general, so it would have been bad enough if I had to shoo it away every 5 or 10 minutes, but this one would not take the hint and never really left our vicinity.  Had it not been for that constant distraction, lunch would have been great.  Our waitress, Victoria, was particularly personable and, as you can imagine, was a true Dr. Who fan.

You end up getting into discussions with them about the show, and also with other customers.  There are pics on my Twitter for those of you who are also Doctor Who freaks.  We also got to the city on the second weekend, and we walked way too much there.

It wasn’t that much walking in NYC terms.  Just up ~ 8 streets from Penn to 42nd Street then over to about Madison, stopping at the NY public library (the one with the Lions out front).  Then down to 34 street again and back to Penn.  Jen is just not used to walking for any kind of distance.
I have also been brought into the gaming world.  I have a high elf character that G. built for me!  He spent the week before I got there doing it, (which was so much work!) and surprised me with it when I got there.

When I was in College, I got involved in the then-brand-new hobby of fantasy role playing.  Jen never had that experience, so I thought I would give her an opportunity to try.  The system we were using, was created as a direct response to many of the flaws (and there were many) in the first version of D&D.  Specifically, one of the biggest things the authors objected to the fact that the characters don’t seem to have any life outside of ransacking dungeons put there for that purpose by the Dungeon Master who is running that particular game.  As a response, they created an extensive and rather complex system for writing up what a character has done before an adventure and between adventures.  It was a house rule in the campaign in which I played that you could do as much write up on your character as you wanted and, since your character received experience for all of that activity, you would have a much more powerful character as a result.  I wanted Jen to experience this, but was concerned that having her write the character up from day one would throw the work/fun ratio out of balance.  So I came up with a compromise.  I wrote the character up myself to the point where she could have just played it and had a very capable, very playable character and gave her the option of doing some additional write-up with me to enhance the character still further.  This way if the workload had proven too onerous, we could just have ended write up and started playing right there.
I named him Taurion.  He’s a magic user with a secondary specialty in Cabbalism.  G. came up with a female version too, but at 5’4″ she was no match for Taurion’s 6’3″ massiveness, not to mention that women in Medieval times didn’t exactly fair very well.  I’m learning how the whole thing works, and I have my own dice too.  We got the game going while I was there, and we’ll be doing more of it on the phone, which is why I bought the dice.  Next November, after we’ve been playing it for a good amount of time, I should have enough of a story to be able to use it for NaNoWriMo.  Bonus, if you ask me!  The whole gaming thing is like when I realized I didn’t know anything about sports and started listening to sports radio to learn about it.  Now I have a chance to learn all about the gaming world that I was never geeky enough to be in on when I was younger.

Which was what I was aiming for all along.


I also gained another nickname, Little Bunny FooFoo.  G. was playing this game on his old computer, and it was taking FOREVER, so I started with the “Are we done yet?” thing, which tends to get old pretty fast.  I was getting bored, so I stared doing bunny ears with my fingers, and started “walking” the bunny ears behind the monitor, along the top.  For some reason I started singing the Little Bunny FooFoo song to go with it.  I have no idea why.  I told him that if the game wasn’t over soon, that Little Bunny FooFoo was going to bop him on the head.  He cracked up!  From then on it became a “thing”.  “Little Bunny FooFoo is getting irritated”, and a couple others, all of which cracked him up.
I will remind all and sundry that one of things I like to say is that I am perpetually amused.
As far as playing, there was only one real punishment spanking, because I asked for it later in the second week.  He’d been using all the evil implements on me for days and days, but never in a serious way, and I do have a punishment fetish after all.


She hadn’t accrued any major transgressions since last we met, so I didn’t have any kind of mandatory disciplinary session on the calendar.   It is part of my fairness thing, I believe that in order for punishment to have the proper effect on behavior, it must be avoidable.  After all, if you are going to “get it” anyway, then what is the incentive to behave?  Requests, of course, are another matter.

Most of the playing we did involved a lot of laughing, and me suggesting that a bonfire would be a good thing.  I was also not marking much, which was really getting on my nerves.  I hadn’t played in over a year, and the first day we played I could feel how much I hadn’t been playing, but still, after days and days of playing, only a couple bruises that didn’t last for more than a day.  He used the riding crop a lot, a wooden paddle, the Lexan paddle, the back scratcher, his evil plastic indestructible spoon from hell, and the hairbrush.  There was a good session with the belt too, of course, because well, it’s the belt!  We weren’t so intent on results for the most part, as far as a change in my behavior.  We were having fun with it, which was why all the laughing.  G. is all business for punishment spankings, which means there’s no fooling around.  He was being very silly for most of the spankings I got this time, with some dancing and singing involved on his part, which was cracking me up completely!


See above under perpetually amused.

The day after the only punishment spanking I got, realizing that I still didn’t have any marks, and desperately wanting marks that lasted more than a few days (you’ll find out how desperately in a second LOL), I asked for the unthinkable.  Last year the switch he’d used was so intense that I thought I’d never ask for that again, but I knew that marks from a switch would last for quite a while.  Like last year he made me go outside and cut one myself!  So unfair.  I found one switch that was the most perfect switch I’d ever seen, thin, still green (in October??), and whippy as hell.  He wasn’t sure it would be enough.  When he started using it I knew that it would be WAY more than enough!  That thing hurt like absolute HELL.  So so evil!  Afterwards he had me stand in the corner and he took pics.  When I saw the pics I knew it had worked.  I had my marks!  I will say though, unless I have stopped marking altogether, we’re not using the switch again.  Those things are just wrong!

I will file that away for future reference  :-))
 
He had also read the blog post I wrote before I went there, about wanting a good long caning to relax me and get rid of some of my stress.  He used the cane a little bit early on, but along with other things.  Then, on the last Friday night, he only brought the cane out, and I got my nice long caning.  It was wonderful.  There’s no thrashing around or trying to get away from it, I just relax into the bed.  The next day was the day we went into the city.  My legs had tightened up so much that I could barely walk that night, and again he brought out only the cane, so I got another long caning, which was perfect after such a physically demanding day.  On the last whole day he caned me again.  Three canings was more than I had ever expected.  They had done their work, I was a lot more relaxed.  I didn’t fly, but being as relaxed as I ended up was just as good as far as I was concerned.  It was a very good vacation, which I REALLY REALLY needed.

Glad it worked out so well.


A Very Old Newsgroup Post



Painslut Party Report

I hadn’t played with anybody or been to a party in nine months, and I was
seriously deprived.  I needed to get SPANKED!  And boy, did I.  Harry
(tailgunner50) and his wife showed up here around 3 in the afternoon, and
since by some miracle I had the apartment to myself, we decided to play
right away.  The night before he had cut an old weightlifting belt into two
pieces, the narrow strap with the holes, and the much wider part, with a
little extra attached for a handle.  Both pieces work very well. : ))  He
also used a rubber strap on me, and a paddle.  I was nice and warmed up by
the time we got into the car to go to the hotel.


Later at the party, I think one of the men had decided that he was going to
spank every woman in the room, because he started making the rounds.  He
asked if I wanted to go into the bedroom that was attached to the main room,
and of course I said yes!  He sat on the bed, and I got over his lap.  He
gave me a wonderful handspanking, nice and long, and then he did something
that I’d never felt before.  He dragged his fingernails across every part of
my bottom and thighs that he’d spanked, and I almost lost my mind!  OMG,
that was the most amazing thing I’ve felt in a LONG time.  WOW.
One of the men who always canes me asked if I wanted to go for it right
after that spanking, or if I wanted to wait a little while, and as I wanted
to bask in the feeling of that spanking, I waited, but not TOO long.  He put
a chair in the middle of the main room, and I bent over it so that he could
cane me.  I love the cane.  People who have never seen me get caned are
always amazed that I don’t flinch or make a sound or even look like I’m
reacting.  I internalize the whole experience, so the most somebody would
see is my bottom tensing after each stroke.  It was so nice that I realized
that bending over wasn’t going to last long, I needed to be flat on the bed
so that I wouldn’t fall over. LOL  So we went into the bedroom, and I got
caned flat on the bed.  I got very relaxed but didn’t QUITE bliss out.  I
don’t know how many strokes I got, but it was still early and he didn’t want
to wear me out too early. It was excellent!



Later on a man with an evil wooden spaghetti spoon (it looks almost like a
mutated hand on a long handle) asked if I wanted to have it tried out on me.
Not one to turn down a spanking, LOL, I said yes.  That thing STINGS!!  He
kept spanking, and somehow I handled it.  I usually don’t handle stingy very
well, I like thud better, but as the title of this post says, I’m a
painslut.  I was VERY warmed up after that!

At some point, I got into a discussion about what a leather strap would feel
like that this one man had.  It was one of those short straps on a wooden
handle, and I’d never been spanked with one before.  He’s a regular at the
parties, but had never spanked me before, so all around it was a new
experience!  He put me over his knee and spanked me with that thing, and it
was stingy TOO!  Geez, you wouldn’t think leather could sting like that and
not be a quirt. LOL  (Quirts are evil stingy things from hell, btw!)
I wasn’t really going for records at this party, I was just so happy to be
back in my element and getting spanked again!  I felt more relaxed than I
had in months and months.  I was having tons of fun watching all the other
women get spanked.  I was laughing a LOT.  There were a few women who, no
matter what they did or didn’t do, got spanked almost CONSTANTLY. LOL  Of
course I was being helpful and offering info that sometimes got them MORE
spanked.  I was just doing my job.  I was watching a bunch of these
spankings when Harry suddenly pointed at me with the cane.  I didn’t need to
be asked twice, that’s for sure!  So we went into the main room, and I bent
over this padded apparatus that somebody had brought.  Harry caned me good
and hard, just the way I like it.  I think there were people in the
room who hadn’t seen me get caned earlier, because they were commenting
again that I wasn’t reacting.  I was having too good a time to react!
Everybody was commenting by the time it was over that my bottom looked
pretty well done, but I’ve looked MUCH worse than that before.  I wasn’t
bruised at all, for a change, it was just all cane marks!  I love cane
marks.  In fact, I still have some of them almost a week later.
That’s my favorite part, being able to look in the mirror at the marks for
days and days afterwards.


The party ended sort of early, about 1:30, (I think the record is 4 in the
morning), but even then I’d had a great time.  When I got to my room I
realized I couldn’t sleep on my back, but that’s just the sign of a really
good party for me. LOL

It took a couple days before I could sit without feeling the couple small
bruises that cropped up by the next morning, or the cane marks.  I just
checked a little while ago and some of the cane marks are still obvious, so
I’ll see how long they last.  At this point they itch sometimes because
they’re healing!

Next month is Worldcon, and I’ll be posting a BIG report on that, because
not only will Greg be there again, but this year I will FINALLY be meeting
Starship!  We’ll see if he can handle this painslut. ; )


As Stubborn as They Come


 This is an old story I wrote back in the newsgroup days.

 -----------------------------------------------------

“Come here,” Greg said.

“No,” Jen answered, defiantly.

“Come here NOW.  You’re just making it worse for yourself,” Greg said sternly, with that LOOK in his eye, as he moved toward her just a bit.

“I won’t.  You can’t make me!  So there!” Jen stuck her tongue out at him, immediately wondering what made her do it.

Greg grabbed Jen’s arm and pulled her to him.  “That’s it, you’re getting spanked, good and hard, and there’s nothing you can do about it!”

“No, no, no!  I won’t and you can’t, and I don’t care,” she exclaimed, wondering who had taken over her mouth.

Greg pulled her over to the bed and all but threw her over his lap.  He ripped her pants and panties down, revealing her naked, quivering, and for the moment, pale bottom.  Jen kicked, flailed, and yelled, making controlling her a real ordeal. Greg wondered what possessed her.  She usually wasn’t this defiant once a spanking was inevitable.

Greg started spanking Jen, hard, as she fought.  She squealed and thrashed, forcing him to put his leg over hers to keep her in position.  She fought with everything in her, not understanding why she was doing it, but feeling compelled.  She knew it would make the spanking much worse, but she couldn’t stop herself.

He spanked and spanked her.  He switched from hand to hairbrush, hoping that the much harder spanking would break through her defenses.  Her bottom was red and becoming darker with each smack.  He wondered how long she could hold out.

Jen wondered what forced her to fight him.  It wasn’t like her to be this way, but she felt this NEED to do it, to be very, very punished.  She could barely stand the resounding painful spanks, and knew that her bottom must be a never before seen shade of red.  She just couldn’t give up yet.

Greg picked up the paddle and started spanking her thighs.  Jen yowled at the new assault.  She thought the spanking would never end, and she’d be over his knee for eternity.  She was frustrated and felt so helpless.  She couldn’t escape his grasp, no matter how hard she fought. She pounded her fists on the bed in a fit of utter frustration, and let out an exasperated bellow.  She finally gave in, defeated, allowing him to spank her into complete submission.  She cried then, and was under control once again.

Greg spanked her for a while longer, wanting to make sure that she really was over her fit of obstinacy.  Then he helped her up, and held her in his arms as she cried.
“I’m sorry,” Jen sniffled into his shirt.

“That’s okay, I think I took care of that little stubborn streak of yours.  You just tend to forget that I’m even more stubborn than you are, and I’ll keep spanking you until you decide to let go.”

“Promise,” Jen asked in a small voice.

“I promise.  I’ll ALWAYS be more stubborn than you,” Greg said with a big grin.

An Alternate Ending

Here’s a different ending for the public spanking fantasy that I wrote a year ago.  The story changes on the way out of the store……

—————————————————

G. makes me walk, not run, to the car.  As I see more and more people in the parking lot, I start begging him to let me pull my pants up.

“No.  You misbehaved in public and you’re getting punished in public.  That means that however many people see your spanked bare bottom just adds to your punishment,” he says, “and because you insist on begging to get out of the rest of your punishment, you’re going to get extra.”
“You already spanked me in front of everybody,” I say, panicked.

“Well, not everybody.  There are a lot of people out here,” he says, with that gleeful sound in his voice again.

We get to the car, but he stops me before we can get to the doors, when we’re still behind the car.  He opens the trunk, and inside I can see one of the long wooden paddles.  My eyes go wide.
He picks up the paddle and closes the trunk.  “Bend over the trunk,” he says, pointing with the paddle.

The look on his face tells me that I don’t want to fight him on this.  I’ve seen that look before, and it’s never good.  I bend over the trunk, and I feel him pull my pants and panties back down to my knees.  My face burns with embarrassment, and I’m glad that I can’t see the people this time.  The next thing I know, the paddle smacks into my already very sore bare bottom, and I yell.  That obviously attracts attention, because I can hear people behind me, talking and laughing about my predicament.  As the paddling continues, my feet start involuntarily coming up, almost meeting my bottom.  G. pushes them back down and starts paddling me harder, which makes me squirm enough that I’m almost traveling across the trunk.  He puts his left hand on my back to keep me from moving, and keeps paddling.  I’m trapped and helpless, and I start crying.  I can tell that more and more people are coming over to the car to watch him spank me.  People are even coming over from the other side of the car, straight toward me,  to stand next to the car to get a better look.  G. knows what I’m thinking as this happens.

“Don’t close your eyes.  I want you to see all these people,” he says, paddle strokes emphasizing what he says.

I see the people’s faces as they watch him paddle me.  Nobody seems to be sympathetic to my plight, instead watching with smiles and looks of anticipation of what might happen next.  I can see it in their eyes.  They’re enthralled with the spectacle of the paddle smacking my bare bottom over and over.

“What did she do,” one of them asks G.

“She misbehaved in the store, and I had to spank her then, and she continued to misbehave as we left the store, so I decided not to wait until we get home to spank her again,” G. says, as if this was something normal.

“She’s going to have trouble sitting down,” another of them says.

“Yes, she is,”G. says, “Won’t you, Jen.”

I don’t want to answer, but I know that I have no choice if I don’t want to make things worse for myself.  “Yes, I will,” I say, barely audible.

“I couldn’t hear you.  Try that again,” G. says, enjoying my embarrassment.

“Yes, I will,” I say, louder, my voice cracking through my crying.

G. brings the paddle down hard across my bare bottom another ten times, and then he stops and takes his hand off my back.  I’m still crying hard, and even though he isn’t holding me down anymore, I don’t move for a few minutes.  As I try to stand up, he stops me.

“Don’t move.  You’re not done being punished.  You’re going to stay there for a little bit, until I tell you that you can get up,” he says.

All the people who had been standing in front of me move past me to stand behind the car, getting a full view of my very spanked, very red bare bottom.  Again I hear the sounds of appreciation, just like in the store, and again my face blazes hot.  I can feel the sun on my bottom, making it even hotter, the spanked skin very sensitive to the heat.  I know not to ask him how long I’ll be staying where I am, bending over, bare bottomed for everybody to see.  I can tell that there’s a real crowd behind me now, from all the voices that I can hear.  I don’t dare look back, because as bad as it is to hear all the voices, it would be much worse to see all the people attached to those voices.  My tears start to slow down, but they don’t stop completely, and I sniffle pathetically, hoping to gain some sympathy from at least some of the crowd.  It doesn’t work, and I put my head down, my left cheek against the warm trunk lid, feeling very sorry for myself.

After a very long time G. speaks finally.  “Okay, stand up.”

I stand, reaching back to pull up my pants, but he puts his hand on mine to stop me.  “Please, let me at least have my pants up now,” I beg.

“No, your pants are going to stay down, now and for the rest of the day.  When we get back to the house you’re going to get another spanking, maybe even before we get inside, I haven’t decided.  It’s going to depend on your behavior,” he says.

My head drops, and my face gets gets redder, but I don’t argue.  I know that there’s no point.  I’m in big trouble, and the three spankings I’ve already had are just the beginning of what is going to be a very painful day for me.

“Now apologize to the nice people, for being such a bad girl that I had to spank you,” he says.
I look up at him, and I can tell he’s serious.  Again, I have no choice unless I want to make things much worse for my already very spanked bare bottom.  “I’m sorry,” I say.

“No, look at them, and apologize to them, not to me,” he says.

I look past him at all the people standing there, expectantly.  “I’m sorry that I was such a bad girl that he had to spank me on my bare bottom in front of all of you,” I say, my voice breaking from the embarrassment and humiliation I feel.

“Very good,” he says, and guides me over to the car door, which he opens and gestures for me to get in.

When I do, I almost lift straight up.  My bottom hurts so much that I wonder how I’ll make it the whole ride home.  I start to cry again.  He gets in, and the crowd parts as we back out of the space and we drive away, leaving them in the rearview mirror.  We drive back to the house, and my fate.


A Public Spanking

This is a fantasy, but there’s a part of me that wishes that public spankings were legal.  It would ensure that I wouldn’t be tormented by having to wait for a spanking if I deserved it.

————————————————————————

We are at the store, and my attitude is bad.  I’m complaining and being a pain.  G. doesn’t suffer attitude problems for very long, and soon he turns to me and says,”That’s enough.  You know what’s going to happen now.”  My eyes go wide.  Public spankings haven’t been legal for very long, and I hadn’t thought that he’d actually do it, that it was just a threat to make me behave.

“Can’t we wait until we get home? Please,” I ask, pleading with him.

“No.”  G. is very definite when he’s made up his mind about something, especially punishments.

My fate sealed, G. reaches to undo my jeans right there in the store aisle.  My face starts to turn red as he unzips them, gets even redder when he reaches for the waistband, and I can feel waves of shame and embarrassment wash over me as he pulls them down, taking my panties down with them in one movement.  There are other people in the aisle, and some of them notice and stop to watch.  This makes those who hadn’t noticed at first stop and look too.  I close my eyes, hoping that if I don’t see them, they can’t see me.

“Open your eyes,” G. says.  “I want you to see all the people who are going to watch you get your bare bottom spanked.”

I open my eyes, but I avoid making eye contact with the other people.  My bottom clenches, and I know that very soon it will be as red as my face is.

“Turn around and bend over.  I want your bottom facing those people,” G. says.

I turn around.  At least I won’t have to look at them while I’m being spanked, I think.  I don’t want to bend over though, because then the spanking will happen for sure, and I won’t be able to stop it.  G. pushes me down so that I’m bending over, giving me no choice in the situation.  I feel something cold and hard against my bare bottom.

“What is that,” I ask him quietly.

“The hairbrush.  I’ve been carrying it in my jacket pocket since they made public spankings legal,” he said, with a small amount of sadistic glee in his voice.  I now knew that he had been waiting for the opportunity to do just what he was doing.

The first spank lands, and I jump up.  He pushes me back down to bend over, and gives me an even harder spank.  The sound rings through the store, and I know that people farther than just the aisle we’re in can hear me getting spanked.  He starts spanking faster, covering most of my bare bottom in short order.  My fears realized, I see people coming up to the aisle from the other side to see what’s happening, and staying to watch.  These people I can see clearly.

“Please let me close my eyes,” I whisper.

“No.” Followed by a very hard swat of the hairbrush.

I watch as more and more people arrive, crowding the aisle, and they come closer as they make room for more people.  I know that it must be happening behind me too, and my face burns with shame.

“Please stop.  I’ll behave.  I promise,” I whisper again.

“I will NOT stop.  You do not decide when a spanking is over.  I do!”

This is followed by a volley of spanks so hard and so fast that I can’t take it, and I start to cry.  Soon I’m crying hard and I can’t stop.  I know that all those people are watching me cry while being spanked, and there’s nothing I can do about it, which makes me cry even more.  The spanking continues, and the pain is taking over my mind, partially blocking the embarrassment, but not completely.  My bottom burns and stings.  It feels like it’s on fire, and I can’t reach back to put it out unless I want an even harder spanking.  Eventually it hurts so much that the embarrassment is completely overcome and I do reach back to try to rub the fire out of my burning bottom.  The spanking stops, and I hear people gasp.  I know that G. is doing something, but I can’t see what it is.  Then I hear the jingle of his belt buckle, and I know that I’ve made a very serious mistake.  He grabs both of my hands, holds them behind my back and starts whipping my bottom with the doubled up belt so hard that I can’t stand still.  I start dancing around, trying to escape this further punishment and embarrassment.

“Stand still!”

G. doesn’t get angry often, because he’s very in control of himself, so when he does raise his voice I feel compelled to do whatever he says.  I stop dancing around and stand still while he paints wide stripes on my exposed bottom with his belt.  I know that I will get worse when we get home, but at least nobody will see those spankings.  This present situation seems far worse than the very hard spankings I will receive once we’re home.  I’m blazing red on both ends, my face as hot as my bottom.  Looking down while I danced around to escape the belt, now I look up, and accidentally make eye contact with some of the people watching me get spanked.  I can tell that they think I deserve what I’m getting, they know I’m a bad girl who should be spanked on her bare bottom.
It takes a minute to realize that G. has stopped whipping my bottom.  The crowd stays, waiting to see what will happen next.  G. stands me up, and taking me by the shoulders, turns me around so that the people I’d been facing can see my very red bottom.  There are sounds of appreciation from the crowd, mixed with a scant few sounds of concern for my poor spanked bottom.  He moves me closer to the shelves where we’re standing, so that I am facing them.

“You’re going to stand here for a while so that all these people can get a good look at what happens to bad girls,” G. says.

People start coming down the aisle, and I can hear them behind me, scrutinizing G.’s handiwork up close.  My embarrassment is renewed, and I can feel my face turn redder, the heat from my face matching my hot tears of shame.  My bottom hurts so much that I find it difficult not to reach back, and G. notices my hands twitching at my sides.  The hairbrush smacks my bottom hard, and I stop.  Somebody in the crowd of people laughs, obviously enjoying my pain and humiliation.  It seems like I’ve been standing there for ages, and that everybody in the store has seen my red bare bottom.  Eventually though, G. allows me to face away from the shelves, and I see people still streaming through the aisle.

He reaches down to pull my pants up, but he stops when they’re up just under my bottom.  He adjusts my shirt so that it stays up around my waist and won’t cover my bottom.  I look at him, and my eyes plead with him to pull them up the rest of the way, but he doesn’t fix them.

“We’re going to continue shopping, and you are going to walk through the store just like that,” he tells me.

My face burns with embarrassment again, but I do what he says.  Now the people who work in the store who couldn’t see what was going on before, see me and my spanked bottom.  Some of the men give G. a thumbs up, along with some of the older women.  I keep my eyes cast down so that they can’t make eye contact with me.  We hadn’t been in the store for very long before my spanking, so I know that we still have a lot of shopping to do.  I dread having to stand in line to check out, and I assume that I have no choice, but G. has one more trick up his sleeve.  He takes me up to the front of the store, in front of the check out lanes, and makes me stand there with my bottom facing those lanes.  Everybody who checks out can see how red my bottom is, even though not all of them had watched my spanking.  I can hear them talking, to each other and the cashiers about me, saying that I must be a very bad girl to have been spanked so hard.  As they walk out of the store they have to pass by me, and I know that they’re looking my bottom again.  Finally, when I don’t think it’s possible, G. is done checking out, and comes to get me.  He still doesn’t let me pull my pants up though, and makes me walk to the car with my bottom on display.  People in the parking lot, who hadn’t been in the store ask him questions, and he tells them that I had been a bad girl in the store, and that he had spanked me.  We can’t get to the car fast enough for me, but I’m not allowed to run to it.  I have to walk normally, and not fast at all.  When I’m finally allowed to be in the car away from people, I cry both from the pain in my bottom making contact with the seat, and the embarrassment I’ve felt since my ordeal started.  My bottom is still bare.  G. says it’s going to stay that way for the rest of the day.

Restarting the old blog

My other blog, on kinkyblogging isn't allowing me access anymore, and since I still have this one, I'm transferring the posts from there back here.  So, for those of you who come back to this one are going to see the same posts that you saw over there, but I'm hoping to start writing again.  My personal life has exploded in the past four years, making kink writing an afterthought most of the time, but I have to start doing something before I lose what little is left of my kink mojo. 

Sunday, June 9, 2013

Punishment Saturdays

I mentioned on Twitter recently about how I used to have lots of time for self spanking, especially on Saturday mornings.  For years I had at least a few hours every Saturday morning to play without interruption.  G. decided that if I had anything I needed to be punished for, I would do it then, otherwise I would pretend that I was being punished for something.  It helped me spank harder if I thought I deserved it for something I'd done, otherwise I'd wimp out and not spank very hard or very long.  I used everything, the hairbrush, bathbrush, paddles, belt, rubber rulers, and even the occasional switch when I could get a good one.  At some point we learned that when I was in the punishment mindset, embarrassment worked really well to help change my behavior.  G. decided that I needed to have the blinds and windows open.  We live in a basement apartment, so I wasn't exactly risking a indecent exposure charge, but if somebody had walked right up to the window, they would've seen me.  It's impossible to see in from the sidewalk, on either side, but hey, the sound of a paddle could make somebody curious enough to want to look in the window, right?

On the days when G. said I had to have a switch, I'd get that first.  I had to go outside to cut one, and try not to call too much attention to myself.  Eventually G. said that I couldn't hide it, that I had to swish it around on the way back to the building.  I always hoped that nobody was around when I had to do that, but whether or not anybody saw, it still added to the embarrassment factor. 

Part of the day was spent in "corner time" after a serious dose of the hairbrush or the paddle.  The thing was, it's a small apartment, with no real corners.  Somehow it was decided (not sure if it was my idea or G.'s), to bend over the kitchen table, no pants on, red bare bottom facing the window.  Again, not a serious chance of being seen, but every time I'd hear footsteps or voices outside, my heart would race.  I wasn't allowed to move, or look to see if anybody was looking in the window, so my imagination would go wild.  After the allotted time was done, I had to go back to spanking.  Sometimes I would use the hairbrush a lot more, sometimes I'd use the belt a lot more, sometimes I'd use something different every time.  The goal was always the same though, a very sore, very red bare bottom, and I was able to deliver.  G. had always thought I had a wimpy arm.  Yes, it takes a lot longer for me to get the same results he does, but that's mostly because it's more difficult to get the right leverage with some of the implements.  He can use the Lexan paddle on me, but I can't use it on myself because it's too big.  I tend to use the smaller implements because they're the easiest to use.  After each implement, it was back over the table.  I could feel the pain in my bottom as I stood there, knowing how red my bottom was, and dreading the possibility of hearing somebody outside the window.      

There was a time when I was seen, which I wrote about in another post called Fact or Fiction?  Telling G. the next night about having been seen was as embarrassing as having been seen in the first place.  He thought of it as part of my punishment, so he was happy that it had added to my embarrassment. 
It was on one of the days I used to get once a year where nobody would be home until late afternoon.  I always loved that day, because I didn't have to worry about anybody coming home, and I could play as much as I wanted. 

The end result of Punishment Saturdays was a very sore, very red bare bottom that would last at least until the end of the day, if not longer.  There were times when I really had a lot of time and it would last longer than the weekend.  Even sitting on my bed would hurt, and I would revel in it.    

Once a week during the spring, summer and part of the fall, I'd have a whole morning to be punished, or to play at being punished, depending on the situation.  It lasted for years, and it settled me down for the rest of the week.  It was great.  Three years ago it ended, and except for when I can see G., I go without being spanked these days, even from myself.  My mind and spirit aren't settled anymore.  I need it back, but I don't see that happening.

Tuesday, May 21, 2013

Finally Some Alone Time

On Saturday, as long as the plans hold, I'll have a good couple hours, maybe more, alone for the first time in I don't know how long.  I've needed this for a long time, since I haven't been spanked since last September.  When I told G., he was very happy about it, so I'm assuming that he's got some diabolical plans for me.  I bratted in two emails on Sunday (using the sticking out tongue emoticon), and I know I'm going to pay for that.  There's also probably other things he wants to nail me for, even from a distance.  He hasn't had a chance in a long time to make sure I pay for anything, at least since we saw each other last year, so I know he'll come up with something.  Luckily I can't use the Lexan paddle on myself, because it's too big, or it would be even worse, but he's good at coming up with evil plans without that.  With the new bamboo spoons, and the extra rubber rulers (yeah, I'm stupid, I bought two new ones because they were on clearance, plus I found the OLD one), and all the other implements I own, there's enough to make sitting difficult ('bout damn time!).  Maybe I can even get him to make me a couple new audio clips.  The ones I have are old, and he doesn't have to worry about anybody hearing him do them anymore.  He can even do them when we're on the phone, so that his Toppiness will be right there, he won't have to work from memory.  I have no problem being bratty enough to incite some good stuff!

One thing about finally being alone is that I'll be able to use the loud implements for a change.  I've managed to sneak and use the Liquid Cane before when there's been somebody home, but to be able to use the paddles and the hairbrush will make sure that it's a memorable (and painful) session.  The belt will get some use too.  I wonder if he'll say to use the belt more than usual because of so much brattiness?  It's a possibility.  He doesn't like bratting, and you know what happens when a Top doesn't like something.  The implements get a good workout!  So on top of fantasizing about how things will go in September with the things I know I'll be spanked for, now my mind is going over and over what he might come up with for Saturday!  I'm pretty sure I'm in a decent amount of trouble.  Hopefully we can skip corner time?  I HATE corner time!

Tuesday, May 14, 2013

Going to New York Again!

I can't get to Worldcon this year, but I came up with something as good, or better.  Going to New York to see G. in September.  So, here's what I want to do when I'm there.

1. Get spanked
2. See the space shuttle
3. Get spanked
4. Go to the shooting range
5. Get spanked
6. See more of the city this time
7. Get spanked

Well, you get the idea.  Tourist-y type things.  And getting spanked.  A lot.  It's a want AND a need.  Mostly a need.  And a want.  And a desire.  I want to feel the belt, the paddle, the riding crop, the belt again, the paddle again, the other paddle, the riding crop again, LOTS more of the belt, some of the hairbrush, and none of that freakin' stupid evil indestructible plastic spoon from hell that G. LOVES because I hate it.  Between the two of us we have enough implements to make that one totally unnecessary!  Right?   

Saturday, May 4, 2013

More Punishment Thoughts, or Drunk Blogging!

I've had enough to drink tonight to disconnect my brain from my inhibitions.  I'll get out what I should write, instead of being concerned about what happens because of what I write. 

I've been coming up with possible scenarios for the punishment that I know I'll be getting from G. for skipping school (there doesn't seem to be a statute of limitations LOL).  As usual, my fantasies go far beyond what G. would probably do, but he does tend to come up with some seriously evil ideas.  When I asked him why he hadn't commented on my last punishment post, he said, "I don't need to comment, I take notes."  That could be dangerous, for my butt anyway!  Spilling my guts even further at this point will only add to that, but what fun is hiding options?  Might as well come out with some of them. 

Not sure yet if I want it to be ageplay.  I know that if G. had been around back when it had first happened, I wouldn't have been able to sit for a very long time.  The first time I was 14, but looked much older, so I wasn't exactly a kid.  That means that any ageplay would be teen centered, especially for the later one, which was when I was 17.  It's an option if nothing else.  Something to consider. 

What I keep thinking about, because the first time was three different classes, that I'd probably get spanked with something different for each class.  Rubber ruler for the math class, paddle for gym, and maybe the hairbrush for English.  It's not that I hated English (I hated Fundamentals of Algebra and gym!), I just couldn't stand the teacher.  She was a royal pain, very domineering, and I didn't do well with authority at that age.  I didn't hate school in general, so I didn't actually leave the building for those three hours.  I hid in the library.  Back then I tended to live in libraries, so it seemed like the best idea.  It's probably why it took them so long to figure out that I'd managed to miss around a month's worth of classes.  It's been over thirty years, so I can't remember the exact amount, but I seem to remember that it was a little over a month, something that couldn't happen these days.  So, a spanking for each class, corner time in between, another spanking with a different implement for the number of days that I skipped, and then the belt for lying about it.  If G. had been around, I would've had to lie about having gone to all my classes to get away with it for that long, so I'm assuming that lying would be the biggest transgression. 

There's something else.  I never got punished for it when it happened, which is probably why I managed to skip a good chunk of 3rd year French.  I have a feeling that once G. finds out that I was never punished for it, (waves to G.), he's going to want to add to the punishment to make up for the lack of punishment at the time.  I have no idea what he'll come up with for that, but I can imagine that it won't be good at all.  Again, he's diabolical when it comes to that kind of thing, and I'm pretty sure he's assumed, up until now, that I had been punished for it.  Once he reads this, he'll know it all.  Even if I had mentioned about the skipping before, I'd never told him the whole thing, but now it's out there, and I'm wondering if we'll be discussing it at some point on the phone.  I want to, but I'm not sure if he does.  I hope he does.  We don't do a lot of talking about it, though we've done more lately than we had in a long time.  I like that, and I'd like to do it even more.