One Spanko's thoughts

Other things I want

2012-01-06T23:59:00.000-05:00

I want the belt. I want searing stripes across my bare bottom, so many that they cease being stripes and become one, enveloping me in white hot throbbing pain. Pain that goes deep inside me. I want the cane, making me fly, allowing me to lose myself in the wonderful intensity of each stroke. Knowing that I will have amazing cane marks that I will be able to look at for days afterward. Marks that will remind me every time I sit down. There are so many things I want. To be spanked hard and fast until I lose all control and sob into the pillow, all stress and worry, all the bad leaving my body so that I become relaxed and mellow to the point of not being able to move. I want it to hurt to sit for a week, which won't stop me from sitting. On the contrary, I will find reasons to sit, so it reminds me of the spankings that caused it to hurt to sit. I want all those things, and I want more. Long slow spankings, building and building, until I become conflicted between wanting to get away from each spank and wanting so many more of them. I want to feel as though everyone can tell that I've been spanked just by looking at me, which will cause me to smile. I will know that they don't really know, but it will spark their curiosity, and they will wonder why I smile.

New Year's Post-Fantasy Time

2012-01-01T00:47:00.000-05:00

I've had one fantasy running through my head lately. The concept has always fascinated me, because it's hot. G. decides he has to punish me.

"Come here," he says, with that look he gives me when he means business.

I walk over to him, and I know something's up, because he's standing by the bed. That look and that tone of voice, when he's standing by the bed never turns out well for my bottom.

"I'm going to punish you," he says.

"Why," I ask, my mind going over everything I've done or said recently.

"Do I need a reason," he asks, his right eyebrow going up.

"No, sir," I say, suddenly meek, which makes the sir come out automatically.

"I didn't think so," he says. "I can, so I will."

"Yes, sir," I say, afraid to make things worse for myself.

"Let's get these out of the way," he says as he reaches for the waistband of my jeans, pulling me closer, and unbuttons them. As the zipper comes down, he tugs them down altogether, followed quickly by my panties.

"But..." I say, forgetting myself in my panic.

"But what? You're getting spanked because I've decided you need to be punished. You know deep down there are things you've been able to get away with, so don't even pretend you don't deserve this," he says.

I know it's true, there are things he doesn't even know about, things he's known about and forgotten about, just things I should be spanked for. He knows, and he's right. But to have him decide not to make it for any one thing, just because he can, makes it hot and scary at the same time. My stomach does flips, not knowing what to expect.

He pushes me down on the bed, which gives me that scared/thrilled feeling, and then I hear the sound. The sound of his belt buckle. Now I know he's really going to punish me. I love the belt, but I know he means business when he uses it for punishment. I don't dare look back at him, because I don't really want to see what's coming.

The first smack of the belt takes me by surprise. It's hard, really hard, and the second comes so fast behind it that it takes my breath away. It's punishment, that's how it goes, hard, and too fast for me to get used to it. It breaks me fast, within six hard smacks I start crying, and by ten I'm crying a lot. He doesn't want to spank me for a long time, he wants to make sure that it does the job. He wants it to break me so that I'm willing to be a good girl again. I'm submissive after a punishment spanking. For a while, and he tries to take advantage of that to make sure I promise to be good, to do what I should. The promises are made, broken through my tears and choked sobs. He doesn't stop spanking because I start crying. He keeps spanking until he knows I've given up. When I've stopped fighting it, when I surrender to him finally. That's when he stops. He always knows when it's time to stop.

I want this to happen. It's a new year, and I want this. It's been so long since we've been able to really explore our punishment dynamic. Hopefully he wants to do it too. I haven't talked to him about it yet, but we've been ramping up the spanking talk, so I'm hoping to get to it soon.

A call for ideas

2011-12-28T18:26:00.000-05:00

Ask G., sometimes I get bored with how I have things. Like I changed the color of my computer windows from blue to silver, I occasionally change the theme of my Thunderbird because I get bored with how it looks, and I change the persona on my Firefox a decent amount. When it comes to this blog, I came up with the name because at the time I couldn't think of anything better. For the past couple weeks I've been seriously considering changing the name, but I can't decide on anything. I'm having the problem I had when I started it in the first place. It's the same problem I have when I write stories. Titles are my worst problem. I'm hoping that some of you are better at it, so I'm asking for suggestions. I'll narrow it down from there, and if I still can't decide, I'll leave it up to a vote of the masses.

Some things to consider when coming up with names: Not that I WON'T ever include sex in my blog posts, but I haven't so far, mostly because it's not happening for me in RL. Most of my fantasies have to do with punishment, which I find hot. I love just playing, and I have a ball when I can do that, but if I can be in a situation where G. is punishing me for something, even if it's just an attitude adjustment, it reaches a much deeper level for me. I write a mix of fiction and RL posts, which is why I can't pick something that makes it seem like it's just a story site. There are too many good ones around for me to compete with!

I'm going to see if G. has an idea for a name too, not that he has a lot of experience with blogging. Of all people he probably SHOULD have a blog, even if it's a vanilla one, but I'm not sure he can stay away from YouTube for that long.

My trip to NY

2011-12-21T21:17:00.001-05:00

To make it easier to tell who's saying what, G.'s comments are in bold.  I've tried to fix the formatting, but for some reason it won't condense anymore than it is!

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

As hoped, the trip went great.  I packed all of my implements, including the Liquid Cane, which G. hadn't even seen yet, let alone had a chance to use.  I forgot that I'd also rebuilt the Loopy in the past three years, and since he'd killed it, he hadn't had a chance to test the bionic version.  Against my better judgement I brought ALL of my paddles, including the dreaded Lexan, which is just plain EVIL.  I always wonder what the people at the airport think when it goes through the scanner. : )  
I got there Tuesday afternoon, and after playing "Around and around we go", G. finally managed to find where I was at the airport and get me to the hotel.

I would point out, in my own defense, that the sign telling you which way the arrival terminal and the departure terminal are was sufficiently small that they could have used it for the fine print on a mortgage agreement, by the time I realized I was headed to the departure terminal, it was too late.

I finally got to ride in The Beast after hearing about it for so long.  It lives up to its name, that's for sure.   He drives fast, which made my mom a little nervous, and she told me to call her when he got me to the hotel in one piece. LOL

While I do drive quickly, I am also very good at not hitting stuff, so her mother need not have worried.  But I do love the chance to show off the full throttle acceleration of the Beast (which is what caused me to give it that nickname) which is a challenge because it revs so quickly that the if you are not quick on the shifts, it will bounce off the 8,000 rpm rev limiter.

He brought his laptop, so we hung out there for most of the day.  I wanted to show him the Liquid Cane, so it wasn't too long before I pulled it out of the suitcase, along with the Loopy.  Down went my pants, and I got on the bed.  He used the Liquid Cane much more than the couple of strokes I'd received at the party a couple months ago, which made it much more intense.  The Loopy is also much more intense when it's not me using it on myself!  It didn't last all that long, but it was nice to be able to ease into things after three years and not feel like we had to go all out from the first spanking.

The liquid Cane works quite well but there is an Achilles heel, rebound.  I'm looking to spank someone else's ass, not my own hand.  A leather glove can be used as armor, by way of a work around.

After checking out our usual online stuff, we went to dinner and then we went to see Moneyball.  By the time the movie let out it was after midnight, and G. went home because we were both tired.
The next day it rained ALL day.  We went shopping, because SOMEBODY had to get new phones so that they wouldn't have to keep changing phones every hour and a half while we're on the phone twice a week, and it wasn't me.

Though it was amusing to hear the exasperated "Batteries" every time I switched handsets.

I needed a travel charger for my phone because somehow I had forgotten my normal charger, even though I'd brought every other charger I owned. LOL  We also needed ammo and hearing protection for when we would be going to the shooting range later in the week.  The ammo part took some doing, because one of his guns requires obscure ammo.

.303 British, it isn't a popular sport round but used to be plentiful in military surplus, but NATO standardized on the 7.62 round (which is very similar but not interchangeable) in decades ago and it has become tougher to find since.

Took three stores to get them, and that didn't count the ones that don't even exist anymore.  I got to see a decent amount of Long Island at least!  Finally, ammo obtained, we got back to the hotel.  
We weren't going to dinner until late, so we did online things again.  This was also the night he decided he was going to teach me about patience, with many implements.  He used the Lexan, the wooden paddle, the rubber ruler and the Loopy.  I also noticed him doing something with his computer, which distracted me for a minute at first, but he was rather insistent with the spanking and the lecturing, so my focus was back pretty fast. LOL  I started crying pretty fast, what with him going at it really hard with the paddle.  I don't need to go from memory about this spanking.  Remember when I said he was doing something with his computer?  Well, we had been talking about doing more audio clips, so Mr. Sneaky RECORDED the spanking on his Garage Band program!!  I do have it on my iTunes and my iPod now, and damn is that paddle LOUD.

Couple of things here.  First off, doing the lecture thing, monologue style to garage band when I am not actually in a session doesn't feel natural.  Its not as bad a photography (see below), but it usually requires multiple takes to get something minimally acceptable.  Thing number 2 is that when we are on the phone and I am drumming on my thigh or stomach, fidget that I am, just the sound of the impact makes a noticeable impression, so it figures that an actual paddling that she *remembers* happening to her will work even better.

After the spanking he went back to the computer, and that's when I realized what he had done.  He emailed it to me right then, so when I got back home a few days later, it was waiting for me.  Late that night we went to a diner he goes to every Wednesday.  Now I know why he only eats once a day.  I couldn't eat like that more than once a day either!

When you have as much trouble stopping eating as I do, it is not a good idea to start doing so very often.

The next day was NYC day.  We didn't go until the afternoon, so we couldn't do a whole lot.  We went on the train and ended up in Penn Station.  I was taking pictures already.  I got some decent ones right outside Penn Station, including one that G. doesn't even know I got, which I will tell him about if he asks.   To tell the truth, I didn't even know I'd managed to get it until I got home and uploaded it from the card onto my computer, so I wasn't being sneaky about it or anything.  You really do need to be slightly sneaky to get pictures of G., because when he knows you're taking pictures of him, he tends to freeze up, and then it doesn't look like him.

Well, there goes my budding career as a male model.

(I laughed LOUD when I read this line, because it was written so deadpan. LOL)

It's actually the best picture I've ever taken of him. :)  From Penn Station we went to the Intrepid museum, and he took me on a guided tour of the whole thing, which I have on video.  Even with all that walking I was still okay.  From there we went to the Empire State Building, but when we got there he said there was something he wanted to do first, so we started walking.  He left me where I was and went looking for the direction we needed to go, which he found pretty fast, and came back to get me.  We started walking, and I had no idea where we were going.  He said he thought we were in the Garment District, which I'd heard about it.  I could tell it was a much older section of the city.  Still I had no idea where he was taking me.  Then I saw a small sign that said kinematics.  I couldn't believe it!  A friend had told me that it was the one place I had to make sure I went to in the city, and by the time I got to New York I totally forgot about it, and I had never mentioned it to G., so I was floored.  It was such a great surprise!

A while ago I was working in the city and every once in a while, I would walk back to the train instead of using the subway or taking a taxi and on one such walk I discovered Kinematics.  There was no way that I was going to show someone like Jen the City for the first time and not have that on the itinerary.

I don't live in a big city, so I'd never seen so many spanking DVDs in one place in my life. LOL  I didn't get any though, because I couldn't decide on any.  We went downstairs where the toys were, and that's when the deciding began.  We looked at everything, and then we decided on a riding crop.  We haven't had one of those in years.  Of course then I had to carry it around the rest of the time we were in the city, so luckily they wrapped it up really well so that nobody would know what it was, because it had to stick out of my purse, as big as THAT is!  We went back to the Empire State Building, which completely destroyed both of us as far as the amount of standing (G.'s problem), and walking and stairs (my problem).  I did get video from the observation deck, so that was really cool, but wow, was it windy up there!  We bailed after a little bit.  Between the crowd, the amount of walking we'd done, and a sudden huge gust of wind, we decided we'd seen enough!  Then we couldn't find a cab to get us back to Penn Station, so we ended up settling on a pedi-cab.  I didn't care at that point, I just needed to sit down before I fell down. LOL

You forgot the part about how, on the way back, our train had a medical emergency on it and we ended up sitting for something like an hour.  I have called the LIRR the "worlds largest toy train set" on many occasions and this just provides more evidence.

I knew ahead of time that this was going to be our late night, because we wouldn't be going to dinner until late, and we'd be staying there really late. G. has a unique schedule on certain nights!  So when we got back to my hotel room, G. used the riding crop on me, really hard I might add (But what's new about that? I'm not sure he has another setting, luckily ).  As with a lot of implements, because of how hard he goes at it, we end up needing to repair a lot of them, and the riding crop is no different.

Damn flimsy toys!

That's why I have a Bionic Loopy, because after G. broke it on me in Denver, I had to rebuild it and accidentally used thin co-ax instead of plain rubber.  Then he took a nap, and I got to use his laptop.  It was one of the few times I was able to check Twitter the whole time I was there.  He woke up about a half an hour or so later, and then we went to dinner.  He meets up with friends on Thursday nights, and I got to meet them.  We got into a big conversation about Detroit and just how bad things are, and these days I'm able to hold my own in conversations like that.  G. remembers the old days at Worldcon where I would just sit by and listen because I wasn't up to the challenge.  Later in the night, one of his friends said that I should move there and they'd come and get me, so I think they liked me. : )  By the time we left it was REALLY late, after 4, so he dropped me off at the hotel and went home to sleep.

That is actually par for the course for me, BTW, night owl that I am.

Friday was a day of firsts. It was the day I would get to see the Atlantic Ocean for the first time. Back in '02 when we went to California for Worldcon, I got to see the Pacific, and it was the first time I'd seen ANY ocean. G. hadn't realized what a big deal it was until we got there and I actually saw it. So he knew I wanted to be able to see the other ocean, but this time I didn't wade into it. There's a difference between seeing the Pacific Ocean at the beginning of September, and see the Atlantic Ocean in mid October! It was also the day I was going to meet his mother finally. We had talked on the phone a bunch of times, and had even written letters back and forth for a while, but we'd never met face to face before. G. was down in the basement getting his rifles so that we could go to the shooting range. That left me and his mom alone to talk for a few minutes. I think it went well! I knew we'd get along, because it wasn't like we'd never talked before. I had been nervous before I went there, realizing I'd be meeting her though, because I know there's a difference between talking to somebody on the phone and seeing somebody face to face for the first time. Even if they've seen a picture of you, pictures can't give the whole story, and I wondered if she would react to me differently. I didn't have to worry about it though, so I relaxed right away. So G. and I went to look for the shooting range he used to go to, but he hadn't been there in so long that it didn't exist anymore. Back to his house, he went downstairs to check for another place online, and I stayed upstairs with his mom. More time to talk! Annoyingly not enough time to really find out anything good though. ; ) Finally he found a place and we were off. It was my second time shooting, but I'd never shot with his rifles before. One of them was easy, but the bolt action one (I can't remember the name of that one),

SMLE for Short, Magazine fed, Lee-Enfield, the Tommies instantly, I imagine, nicknamed it "Smelly".  That was the one that took the .303

was a total bitch to control!  It kicks like a mule!  I only shot that one once, it was too hard to handle.

I wanted to show her the difference between a full battle rifle cartridge and the significantly less powerful assault rifle cartridge, in this case 7.62X39.  Driving home the point that assault rifle rounds are *less* devastating than their predecessor battle rifle counterparts.

I did pretty good with the other one though.  I still have the targets to prove it!

Ready for any zombie apocalypse, she is.

Then we went to meet up with other friends of his for dinner.  I already know these friends because they go to Worldcons too.  We tried to guess how late they'd be, because his friend has a different concept of time.  G. was right on his guess. LOL  His one friend is an early adopter of technology and always has gadgets, and he has an iPad, which he let me play with.  Have I mentioned I suck at Angry Birds?  I couldn't get out of the level I tried.  We stayed there for four hours talking and playing with the iPad.  I was even able to check in for my flight the next day AND pay the baggage fees right there.  I totally need an iPad.

Apple stuff tends to be like that, just try it out and you want one.

When we got back to the hotel, G. asked if there was an implement we hadn't used that I wanted to play with since it was my last night there.  Of course I said the belt.  So he spanked me with the belt.  It didn't last as long as I would've liked, but I was just happy to have it used on me at all after three years!  His shoulder couldn't handle too much that night, because when he had shot with his bolt action rifle earlier in the day, he had gone through ten shots, and it kicked him in the shoulder hard enough for him to have a decent bruise.

Hard kicking round + brass butt plate + thin tee shirt = sore shoulder

I had some decent belt marks though, which is what counts.   Sitting that whole week had been tricky, and that just added to it, which I had missed so much and loved feeling again after so long.  He didn't stay after that, because he was going to have to get up early (there's normal people early and then there's G. early.  G. early is noon LOL). 
When he dropped me off at the airport the next day, I got my traditional hug, which was nice.  Even just being friends, what we do together as far as spanking is concerned is more emotionally intimate than I ever was with my husband when we were married.  After twelve years we're close, even if it's in a nontraditional way.  It was a nice way to end a very nice week.  I got very spanked after having waited patiently for three years, which made me very happy.  If things work out right, we might even be able to see each other before next Worldcon.  I'm keeping my fingers crossed for that one, because it would mean him coming here.  And not mentioning to my mom that we'd be going to the target range again.  She still doesn't know that we went in October!  She HATES guns, so it just easier not to tell her.  She knows about the other stuff, but she feigns ignorance.  That's easier for HER. LOL

Glad the trip was a success, -G

As requested, here's the first poem

2011-12-09T23:33:00.000-05:00

The First Stirrings

So young,
You have no idea
how the world works,
Yet you know that
this thing makes you feel
something strange,
It makes you tingle inside,
Gives you a small rush
that you don't understand,
But you know you like it.
You also know you can't tell,
Because then they'd know
and they would tell you it was wrong,
Though you know deep down it isn't,
So you keep it inside,
Your dark secret,
That makes you tingle inside
and gives you that wonderful rush
just to think about it.

While we wait for G. to add his comments......

2011-12-09T17:05:00.000-05:00

The NY post is written, and I sent it to G. a couple days ago, so I'm waiting for him to send it back with his comments included. Until then, I came up with an idea today. I've been knee-deep in nonkink book writing for over a month now, but I think it's sparked my creativity again. That's good, because I'd spent so much time not being able to write a damn thing that I'll take too many ideas over none. I was sitting at work listening to a podcast on my iPod, and they were talking about writing, and it got me thinking. I rarely write poetry anymore, but occasionally something hits me enough to make me need to write. I've also never written a whole book of themed poetry. I do have ones I could take out of the rest and MAKE a themed book, but what I'm thinking is a kink related poetry book, that talks about the journey from the earliest thoughts about what we do, to being involved in playing and all the feelings that go along with the different relationships we have while doing it. I've never written something intentionally like that. My poetry is normally born of strong emotion at the moment. I think a book about my life would be boring, but to put it into poetry form would bring the emotions to the surface and show the journey from earliest spanko thoughts through to the liberation that comes with age and experience. I would probably have to go the self publishing route, or the Amazon Print on Demand way, because I doubt I could get a publisher to go for it. Hell, I don't even know if anybody would even want to read it! I wrote the potential first poem this afternoon, and I'm fairly sure I have enough years of experience in all this to really show the journey. Any thoughts? Any interest? I'm still going to do it, but I am wondering if anybody would want to bother reading it.

What I hope happens when I see G. next month

2011-09-23T21:05:00.001-04:00

I've been thinking about what I want when it comes to playing when I get to New York to see G. It's been three years since we've seen each other, so there's so much we'll probably want to do but won't get to. I know he'll want to punish me. It's not that I've been misbehaving, but he'll want to set the tone and assert his authority again. I want that too. I hope it happens before we do the fun kind of playing. I want to feel his power again. It's this amazing force, and I haven't seen it in so long. I miss it. I want to slam up again it, to know that it's there no matter what. I want him to spank me until I cry, to release all the stress that's built up since the last time I saw him, partly because it's been so long since he's spanked me. I want to feel relaxed and that everything's right in the universe again.

At some point I want a nice long caning, with the heavy cane. I want to fly, knowing that he's watching out for me so that I can. I trust him to know when I've had enough if I've blissed out (G.'s term for subspace!) so far that I can't know for myself. He's good at that, and I feel safe so that I can let go and fly. It's an amazing feeling, to let him take me where I want and need to go.

I'd love to play a scene, though we've never really done it before. There are situations we can use from my past that make for good role playing, because in my late teens school and I weren't best friends. I wasn't terrible at it, but there were bouts of skipping that I could be punished for, in a teacher/student format or a Daddy/daughter type scene. Either way would work for me. I'll have to see what G. wants to do as far as that goes, but we've talked about me being punished for that, so it's just a matter of figuring out which direction to take it.

G. hasn't used the Liquid Cane yet (formerly the Evil Whippy Thing), and since I know that it's on my level, I really want to see what he can do with it. His arm never wears out, so I'm hoping for great things! I know he wants to try it out, especially after all those times that I told him that he might get to use it sparingly. He'll want to make sure that I know that he'll use what he wants, when he wants, as often as he wants. Which is only right. He's in charge, and when it comes to when and how I get spanked, he makes the decisions. I love that.

Internet Anonymity for People like Us

2011-08-12T00:52:00.000-04:00

Yesterday on the radio, the show I listen to did a story about this: Gawker. The hosts were all for it, saying that anonymity on the internet is bad, because it allows people to say things they wouldn't say out in public. They said that people should have to get some kind of license to go online to post to blogs and message boards, using their real names, so that you'd know exactly who said what. All I could think was that it would shut down whole sections of the internet. Spanking on tv has become slightly more mainstream, but so much of society still thinks that what we do is worse than being gay, and we know how they feel about THAT. We go on Twitter and we write our blogs anonymously, for our own protection for the most part. Some of us have careers or spouses or friends and relatives who can't find out about what we're into, because it would cause serious problems. We HAVE to have anonymity online so that we can interact with other people like us. We can't go back to the old days when we had almost no connection to other people who did what we did, putting pricey ads in the backs of free newspapers to find somebody to spank or be spanked by. There was a scene back then, but not like it is now, where we can talk to so many people all over the world who think the way we do, and want the same things. Losing that would be devastating for all of us. I'm out to some friends, but I keep my Twitter and Facebook personas totally separate for a reason. There are relatives and work friends on Facebook who I don't want finding out about this, because I've had some bad experiences with people finding out in the past. One of my uncles is born again, and his only thought filter is his religion. I doubt he'd take the news well if he found out. I don't feel like being ostracized by half the people I know and/or love. Also, G. isn't out at ALL, and if what I do online got out, it would be very easy for his friends to figure out the connection. I would never do that to him, so I would have to stop posting.

What they said bothered me so much that later in the day I emailed one of the hosts, whom I have emailed before about trivial things, so I had his email address already. I told him about those of us who require anonymity to do what we do online. I haven't had an answer yet, and I may not, but at least I let him know the part of the concept that he obviously hadn't thought about at all. I'll post if I get an answer.

New York, Here I Come!

2011-08-04T19:14:00.000-04:00

Finally got to talk to G. about my plan last night. I had a backup plan in case going there didn't work for him, meaning I would pay his way here. I've done it before, so there's precedent. When I asked him last night though, he said, If you want to come out this way, I'm fine with it. If we were a couple that would be an odd way to put it, but we're not, we're friends with the spanking relationship added in. The fact that he didn't even hesitate meant a lot. There was no discussing it, "well, if you were to come here, then....". It was just outright and made me very hyper! I'll get a hotel room, because with his living arrangements, it's the only way we'll get a chance to play. The hotel I found is less than two miles from where he lives, so it'll be very easy for him. I just like the fact that we're finally going to be able to reconnect. As much as I love going to Worldcon, we haven't seen each other in three years, and we need some time just to get back into the swing of things. With everything there is to do at Worldcon, we don't have much time to just BE, and playing gets relegated to 3 in the morning most of the time. If it's just the two of us, we can just hang around doing what we want, and playing happens when we want it to. Most of the time that isn't until late on the first day, after we've had time to adjust to being in the same place again after so long. We've been friends for twelve years, and we're comfortable with each other to the point of acting like an old married couple, but that first day needs to be relaxed into. I get so hyped before I see him that I would bounce off the walls otherwise.

I'm going to get SO spanked when I'm there. I will take videos and pics, and I will show off any marks I manage to get. I will convince him to use the heavy cane so that I will have wonderful cane marks, but not sure about bruises. I don't seem to bruise all that much anymore. So annoying. I love bruises and marks. We'll probably play hard enough that he'll manage to bruise me some though. He knows how hard I like it. I told him we'll have to experiment with The Evil Whippy Thing, because even with ME using it, it's a bitch. With him, I don't know how bad it will be. He'll have to hold back some at first, so we can gauge the results. I wonder if he CAN hold back. It's not something he does most of the time!

By the time I leave, sometime in the middle of October, I'm going to be bouncing off the walls. Can't wait!

My two cents about Twitter

2011-08-01T18:55:00.000-04:00

Since I was part of Abel's conversation about Twitter, I figured I might as well continue it, along with everybody else.

Twitter is my connection to my spanking friends. I can't do that on Facebook, because of relatives and work friends. I'm pretty much out about what I do, except for those people. My work wouldn't be affected, but I don't know what their reaction would be, so I leave that part of my life private. I could never tell the relatives on Facebook about my kink, though some of them are very open about things. I just can't see myself talking to them about it. The newsgroup has faltered from what it once was, and all the people I knew there are now on Twitter, so I can connect with them on a more immediate basis there. I NEED Twitter for that. To be who I really am, to not have to think about what I say, to not have to hide anything. To be as free as I want with the kink, and to be able to revel in the wonderfully kinky conversations I have on there. I don't JUST talk about spanking, but it's the one place I CAN talk about it. I've gained friends on there beyond the ones I knew from the newsgroup, so my horizons have broadened that way. I don't tweet from a phone, because I refuse to pay that kind of money for a data plan, but when I get home I go through my timeline and catch up with everything people have been doing during the day. Not everybody I follow is into spanking, but pretty much everybody who follows me is. Until the past few months I didn't post much. In April, after a whole year on Twitter, I only had 1,800 tweets. I've become so much more involved that I have 4,614 tweets as of right now. I tweet every day now, sometimes a lot during a day, especially later in the day when everybody's home. I talk to people in different countries, all over the world, which for somebody who didn't get online until they were 34 is still sort of amazing sometimes. It's difficult to remember what it was like pre-internet, when I didn't know that there were all these other people who have the same inclinations I do when it comes to spanking, and when I wasn't connected to so many great people. I could never go back to being disconnected from the world, and Twitter is one of the things I'd miss now.

Worldcon

2011-07-31T16:21:00.000-04:00

I've known for a little while that there's no way I can come up with the money for Worldcon. I had all these plans to do it, even if it meant borrowing it, but it's not happening, and it's better not to go into debt to do it. But it means that I won't see G. I haven't seen him in three years, and it's getting to me. The only thing that makes it okay that I'm not going to see him is that I have a plan for a couple months from now when I have more money. It will allow me to either bring him here, or for me to go there, depending on what he's willing to do. Either way it'll work for me. I'll get spanked for real and not just from myself, and things will be good again. I haven't been spanked in so long I've forgotten what it's like to be in the same room and under his control. I want that, I need that, and I'm going to do what I can to make it happen. I have to talk to him about it tonight, so we'll see how it goes.

A Need Fulfilled-Part 2

2011-07-24T10:30:00.000-04:00

The next night was Sunday, which meant I had to go to bed early. I didn't know how I was going to manage to get to bed so early, when I was used to staying up until one or two in the morning. Going to bed the same day I woke up just wasn't normally in the cards. I got into bed, expecting to lie there for hours, but surprisingly, I was asleep in half an hour. When the alarm went off in the morning I woke up right away, and didn't hit the snooze alarm once. I got to work in plenty of time for the first time in ages.

The rest of the week went along essentially the same way. I thought I had this thing licked, and that the bedtime would be very temporary. I had hope that I wouldn't need rules for very long. When I called Kate that Friday, she was very pleased that I was following the rule so well, and called me a good girl. That made me happy, because I wasn't used to hearing that. It made me want to keep being a good girl and doing what Kate wanted me to do.

The next week started well enough, I kept to my bedtime and woke up when I was supposed to. Then on Thursday, some of the women at work asked if I wanted to go with them for a night out. Forgetting what Kate had told me about asking permission, I told them I'd go. We went to a bar, and the next thing I knew, it was one in the morning. By the time I got home it was closer to two, but I figured that I'd already broken the rule, a little longer wouldn't make any difference. When the alarm went off five and a half hours later, I hit the snooze button three times and ended up being late for work. Realizing that I would have to call Kate later that day and confess to what I'd done, I was nervous all day at work, and easily flustered. By the time I got home I was so frazzled I didn't know which way was up.

I was desperate for an excuse to use as I dialed Kate's number. It was only the second week and I had already screwed up, big time. I don't just mess things up a little, when I do it, I do it big, and this was no exception. I knew I was in for it.

"Hello Sarah," Kate said.

Damn Caller ID, I couldn't just hang up and pretend I hadn't called. "Hi Kate," I answered nervously.

"So, how did the week go," she asked. I thought I detected something in her voice that told me she knew something was up.

"It went really well most of the week," I said, trying to put the best angle on it that I could.

"Most of the week," she asked, in a tone I wasn't used to. It wasn't accusatory, but it seemed to drip impending doom.

"Yeah, most of the week. Last night was a little bit off........." I said, trailing off, not willing to give it all up at once.

"What do you mean, a little bit off," she asked. The tone got more ominous.

"Well, some friends at work wanted me to go out with them last night after work, and I got home a little bit late," I said.

"How late," she asked.

"Um.......almost two o'clock," I said, almost under my breath. I wanted the impact to be as small as possible.

"That's not "a little bit late" Sarah, that's very late," Kate said sternly,"why weren't you watching the time?"

"We were having such a good time that I didn't notice the time until one o'clock, and then I figured I was already in trouble, so I just stayed," I said, thinking it couldn't get worse than it already was.

"I see," Kate said.

I didn't like the sound of that tone at all. It told of more than impending doom, it announced the demise of my poor bottom.

"I also hit the snooze button three times this morning and ended up being late for work," I said in a furious rush, hoping she wouldn't notice all of it.

"I obviously have my work cut out for me on Sunday. Be here at noon, if you know what's good for you," Kate said.

"Are you mad at me," I asked.

"Not mad, just disappointed," Kate said,"I hadn't expected you to disregard my instructions so blatantly. I told you that you could ask for permission if there was a reason you wanted to stay up late."

My heart dropped into my stomach when she said the word disappointed. I hadn't meant to disappoint her, and now I felt even worse. "I forgot," I admitted.

"Obviously," Kate said,"so we'll take care of your memory problem on Sunday too."

"Yes, ma'am," I said. There was that word again.

"See you on Sunday, Sarah, and don't be late," Kate said.

"I'll be there," I said,"bye."

"Goodbye Sarah," Kate said, that tone still evident.

I felt awful. I hadn't meant to disobey her, and I had forgotten about asking permission. It hadn't been on purpose. I'd never cared about disappointing anybody before, so this was a new situation for me. Was I going to be good from now on just so I wouldn't disappoint her? I never wanted to hear that tone in her voice again, I knew that much.

I was up early Sunday morning, so nervous I couldn't eat anything. All I could think about was what was going to happen. I wondered how bad it would be. She had only spanked me with her hand that night at the party, and that had been bad enough, but I had seen what had happened when she used the hairbrush on Julie's bottom. I couldn't imagine being on the receiving end of that. I knew I would find out soon enough.

Before I could chicken out, I drove to my appointment with doom. I stood at Kate's door and rang the doorbell right at the stroke of noon. I didn't dare risk being even one minute late. I was already in enough trouble. When she opened the door there was only a trace of the sternness I had heard on the phone. Even that small amount had an effect in person. I tried not to let my nervousness show.

"I'm glad to see that you decided to obey me this time," she said.

"I've been up for hours, there was no chance of sleeping late," I blurted out.

"Good. Come in, I'm not about to spank you on the front porch," Kate said, sneaking in a little humor to break the tension,"At least not yet."

I entered the house, and had to look at her to make sure she was kidding about that last part. At this point I wasn't sure what she was capable of. Anything to teach me a lesson, I expected.

It didn't take any time for her to get down to business. There was a straight-back chair in the middle of the living room, and a small paddle and a hairbrush were on a table next to the chair. My knees almost buckled at the sight of them.

She sat down on the chair, and I stood in front of her. Part of me wanted this spanking, so that she wouldn't be disappointed in me anymore. As she put me over her knee and pulled my pants and panties down in one swift motion, I knew this was going to be much worse than the one at the party.

In my position over her knee, I couldn't see which of the two implements she picked up, but with the first smack I knew it was the paddle. I squeaked, not expecting it to be so hard right from the start.

"This is a punishment spanking, there aren't any warm-ups before a punishment spanking,"Kate said,"the paddle is for not asking permission and deciding to break the rule, and the hairbrush is for deciding that since you were in trouble already that you might as well stay out later."

The paddle was small, but brutal. The sting built up immediately, and was close to intolerable almost as fast. I kicked and squirmed and tried to get away, but Kate's grip was much too tight. There was no chance of escape. I was trapped, to be spanked unmercifully for as long as Kate wanted. My bottom was on fire in short order, and I panicked, thinking there was no way I would be able to stand it. I had no idea how long she spanked me, it just seemed to go on forever.

Suddenly the sting of the paddle was replaced by the intense burn of the hairbrush. I screamed at the first splat of that evil thing against my bare bottom, but there was no let up. The helpless I had felt at the party overtook me again, and I was crying hard in short order. The helplessness became remorse, and I was genuinely sorry for having disobeyed her. The hairbrush did its work, and I was a very sorry girl.

When Kate was satisfied that I had learned my lesson, the spanking ended. I was exhausted, having cried myself out over her knee, so all I could do was lie there in misery. She lifted me off her lap after pulling up my pants, and led me to the couch. She hugged me and rubbed my back.

"Do you forgive me," I asked through my sniffles.

"Of course, dear. You've been punished, and it's over now. I know you'll try your best to be a good girl from now on," Kate said.

"Yes ma'am, I definitely will," I assured her. I meant it. I didn't want another spanking like that ever again.

"I'm glad. I don't like having to punish you, but I'll always do it when it's needed," Kate said, letting me know that she was serious.

We had lunch after that, and when I left we were on very good terms again. From then on I tried to keep to my bedtime, and succeeded most of the time, but there were still spankings for that and other rules that she put in place later on. Kate made all of them count, but none were as memorable as that first day, when I learned that when Kate says to do something, you do it.

A Need Fulfilled-Part One

2011-07-23T18:42:00.001-04:00

I forgot about this story. I wrote it a couple years ago, but never used it for anything. It's long, so I have to post it in parts. It's fiction, but it's written in the first person.

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

From early on I knew that I lacked something. A strong female figure, willing to take charge. Even though outwardly I followed the rules, internally I was missing the guidance, and I craved it. I had always been thrilled by the thought of being spanked, but it never happened, not with my permissive upbringing. My hopes rose when I entered the scene, finding people to spank me, because there were women who spanked other women. I didn't act on my inclination for a long time, because there always seemed to be something holding me back. The time didn't seem right, or the women I met weren't the right type. It seemed I always found an excuse. That was until I met Kate.

I first saw her at a party. It was impossible not to notice her, she was sitting in the middle of the room spanking a younger woman. She had the woman over her knee, and she had this maternal air about her, caring but stern. The longing rose up in me again, watching the scene, and I wanted to be the one over her knee, being scolded and spanked. She was saying all the things I had always fantasized that a mother would say to a misbehaving daughter. It sent a shiver through me, and I couldn't look away. When the scene was over, Kate hugged the woman, whose name I didn't know, and the younger woman had a very content look on her face, even after what had seemed like a very intense scene.

I stood where I was, afraid to move, afraid to approach Kate. She seemed so formidable, and it still seemed like too large a risk, even with my need prodding me to take that risk. It wasn't that I was afraid that she wouldn't want to spank me, because obviously she had no problem spanking women. I just didn't know her very well, and I didn't know if she wanted to deal with someone who placed so much importance on a mother/daughter scenario. There was so much emotion involved in it for me that I thought it could possibly make her uncomfortable.

"Hi Sarah. I saw you watching when I was spanking Julie," I heard a voice behind me say.

I turned, and there was Kate. I had been so deep in thought that I hadn't noticed her approach me. "Oh yeah, well I think we all were. It was impressive," I said.

"I think you were watching more intently than most," Kate said, "as if you wanted to be where Julie was."

I panicked, and couldn't look her in the eye. Was I that obvious? I felt as thought I had a huge sign plastered across my body that said, "I need a woman to spank me" in foot tall letters.

"I know the look, dear," Kate said, acknowledging my thoughts.

She was much taller than me, and it was like a child looking up into a mother's face when I met her gaze. Up close I could tell that she was a good two decades older than me, but that only helped fuel my longing. Not just her mouth smiled at me, her eyes seemed to as well. I suddenly felt at ease, and forgot all about my panic. I wanted to tell her everything about my desire to be taken in hand by a strong woman who knew how to deal with a naughty girl, even if that "girl" was in her thirties. It came out as a jumble, and neither of us understood what I was trying to tell her.

She put her hand on my arm, stopping me mid ramble. "Why don't we find a quieter place to talk, and then you can tell me everything."

I could only nod and follow her to the far corner of the room, where we sat at an unoccupied table. "Now, take a deep breath, and let's try to make sense of that jumble you were trying to tell me," Kate said.

I did as she said, trying to slow my breathing down enough to talk. Now that I had the chance, I didn't want to mess it up.

"I've always been into spanking, but my parents raised me very permissively. I've always wanted a strong woman to take me in hand, to help me fix the things about me that need fixing. I thought there wasn't much chance of it happening, but when I watched you spanking Julie, I wanted to be in her place. I felt stuck where I was, like I was seeing my own future. I want it to be my future, but I wasn't sure how to ask you," I said, getting calmer the longer I talked.

"Now that I understood. I think I can help you. If your childhood was as permissive as you think it was, then we have a lot of work to do. It won't be easy, but it will be worth it in the long run. You have to have self discipline to get ahead in life, and if you didn't learn it through discipline as a child, there's no way you'd have it as an adult," Kate said, as if this new situation was already arranged. "Tell me what areas of your life you're having the most problem with, and we'll work on those first."

I was stunned. I hadn't expected her to agree so easily. I thought I would have to beg and plead, at least a little. "Well," I stammered, all nervous again. "I never seem to be able to get anything done on time, so deadlines at work are next to impossible. I can't seem to keep my spending under control, so all of my credit cards are maxed out most of the time. I eat all wrong, when I remember to eat at all, and I don't sleep unless I'm so exhausted that I end falling asleep on my couch almost every night. I'm a mess."

Kate sat silently for a few minutes. I started thinking that I had scared her, that I was too much to deal with. I already thought of myself as a hopeless case, so it was easy to think she did too. When she finally spoke, it was a surprise.

"First things first. We need to get you on a regular sleep schedule. Nothing in your life will go the way it's supposed to until your mind is clear, and it can't be when you don't sleep. That means a strict bedtime until you learn to go to sleep when you should. It may take a while, and I'm not expecting perfection, but if you break the rule, you will be spanked," she said firmly.

A scared thrill went through my entire body. This was something straight out of my dreams, but it was real. I couldn't believe she was agreeing, and taking charge so fast. It was more than I could have hoped for. But could I follow rules? I never had before, at least not with any regularity. I wanted to though, because my life was becoming ridiculously out of control.

"Okay," I said finally. "If you're willing to help me, I would be stupid to pass up the chance. How do we start? How will you make sure I'm following the rules?"

"We start now. From here on out, I'm in charge, at least as much as you've put me in charge. I'll know whether you're following the rules or not because you're going to tell me. Once a week, on Fridays, you'll call me and give me a report on how things have been going. If there are any transgressions, you'll tell me about them, and we'll meet on Sunday to deal with them," Kate said, all business.

"You mean I'm supposed to tell on myself," I asked.

"Exactly," Kate said,"because you want this, and the part of you that wants this will tell me if you break the rules. It may not make any sense now, but in time it will. If you're really as serious about turning your life around as you say you are, you'll do it."

"I am serious, it just seems weird for me to tell you when I need to be punished, because I've spent my life avoiding that," I said.

"Which is why you asked me to help. You've never been held accountable for anything, but that's about to change," Kate answered, getting up from the table. "Now I think you should experience a little of what's in store for you."

I stood up, not knowing what was about to happen. We left the room, and went out into the hallway. We walked a short way to her room, which was down the hall from the room where the party was being held. She took me by the hand, led me to the bed, and sat down on the edge of it. She positioned me in front of her, gave me a questioning look, and I nodded. The next thing I knew, I was across her lap. I had no idea how she'd managed to do it so easily. I did know that I was staring at the carpet, about to be spanked.

She started slowly, flipping up my skirt and spanking my panty covered bottom with her hand. The smacks were deliberate, but not hard. I could tell she was holding back, because I had seen her spanking Julie with much more force. She covered my entire bottom with smacks. Just as the heat built to a stinging feeling, I felt her reach into the waistband of my panties and pull them down. I had a momentary feeling of dread and panic, and tensed up.

"Don't be silly, Sarah, I have to spank your bare bottom. Relax," Kate said.

The panic left me, and with my panties down around my knees, she continued the spanking. I didn't know if it was the lack of protection or if she was spanking harder, but there was a definite difference in what I was feeling. That mild sting was building in intensity, and her hand felt more like a paddle than a hand. I started squirming, and she tightened her grip around my waist. Suddenly her focus went from spanking all of my bottom to my sit spots and thighs, and with much more force. My squirming turned to struggling, which seemed to make her more determined. Sounds came out of me that I don't remember having ever made before, and then I noticed the tears. I'd never cried from any spanking in a scene, and couldn't believe it was happening now. Soon the tears turned to sobs, at my feelings of helplessness and frustration of not being able to get free. I cried like I had never cried before, but the spanking continued. The crying was tiring me out, and eventually I couldn't keep up the fight and just slumped in defeat, accepting whatever she gave. She slowed the smacks then, and then stopped completely. The spanking might have been over, but I couldn't stop crying. I couldn't see through the tears, the carpet was a blur. I felt her rub my back, and it helped calm me down. She pulled my panties back up, and helped me up, sitting me next to her on the bed. Without thinking, I put my head on her shoulder, and she put her arm around me. I didn't know what possessed me to do that, I just suddenly felt very connected to her, and she didn't seem to mind.

"Feel better," she asked.

"Yes ma'am," I said.

Where did that come from, I wondered. It surprised me, because I hadn't planned on saying it. I'd never said that to anyone in my entire life. I didn't say Sir or Ma'am, it went against everything I was. I wasn't raised to say it, and had never seen the need for it, and here I was, saying it unbidden.

"I'm glad," Kate said.

I raised my head to look at her. "I've never called anyone ma'am before," I told her.

"You've never had anyone take control of you before, so you never felt the need to," she said,"so maybe it's more natural to you than you think, if it happened so easily."

"Maybe you're right. You don't mind," I asked.

"Of course not. I never demand it, so if it happens, I know that it's heartfelt," she said, with that same smile in her eyes that I saw earlier.

"We need to decide on a bedtime for you now," she continued,"something that will allow you to get a normal amount of sleep from now on. What time do you get up in the morning for work?"

"My alarm goes off at 7:30, but then I hit the snooze alarm a few times and end up getting up at the last minute. I barely get to work on time," I admitted.

"Then you need to go to bed early enough so that you're not hitting that snooze alarm. I think that 11:30 on work nights should do it," Kate said.

"11:30! That's too early! I couldn't get to sleep till midnight at least," I complained.

She pulled me towards her by my arm, which lifted me off the bed, and gave my bottom a hard smack.

"Ow! Sorry," I said, chastened.

"Good, you're learning. The 11:30 bedtime is only for work nights. What you do on the weekends is up to you, because you don't have to get up early. When you get to the point where you can wake up with your alarm and not be tired all the time on work days, then we'll talk about changing it," Kate said.

"I guess," I said," it just seems so early."

"When you get used to it you won't think it's so early," Kate said.

"What if something comes up and there's something I want to stay up late for," I asked.

"Then you can call and tell me what it is, and ask if you can stay up later. It's always better to ask permission first than to ask for forgiveness later," Kate said, not allowing for arguments.

"I think I can live with that," I said,"as long as there's room for exceptions."

We exchanged phone numbers and she gave me her address, and I agreed to call her the next Friday, which was a little less than a week away.

"Then it's settled. Let's go back to the party now," Kate said, standing up and going to the door.

I followed, and we went back to join the party, but I felt different somehow. Quieter, more settled. I kept watching Kate for the rest of the night, in admiration and respect for her style and her strength. She had impressed me more than I had realized at first.

Balancing Act

2011-07-17T11:30:00.000-04:00

I'm a bad girl. The problem is that knowing that makes me hot. I know I should want to be a good girl, and I do, but hearing him call me a bad girl and getting spanked for it makes me even hotter. It's difficult to follow rules and do what I'm told. I'm stubborn, which makes learning compliance a problem. Embarrassment is effective, but also a turn-on. It's all such a balancing act, be good and don't get spanked except for good girl spankings, or be bad and get punished. Punishment spankings are a deterrent, but again, a turn-on.

He urges me to be good, to do what I'm supposed to, and I want to, but I don't want to. Being punished is hot, after the spanking is over. He likes it when I'm a good girl, but he also likes to spank me hard. I know it turns him on when my butt turns red and I'm fighting against the spanking, to the point of crying. He likes the good girl in me, but punishing me is something he likes too much to want to give up completely. I don't think either of us could give it up, so even if it's been months between punishments, we always go back to it. His threats and growls of impending doom for my poor bare bottom give me a shiver of delight and fear. When I feel his hand on my back, pushing me down on the bed for a spanking, that thrill/panic goes through my whole body. I love those moments, before the pain becomes too much, pushing me over the edge into remorse and tears. The remorse lasts longer than the tears, but not long enough. I become submissive for a short time, the good girl he wants, all compliance and willingness to do what I'm told, but it's fleeting.

Being a bad girl is part of what makes me who I am. I need what comes with that. The helplessness and vulnerability that comes with allowing myself to be punished for being bad give me a surge, heighten my senses. Being a good girl gets me rewards, spankings just because, but those lack the emotion and intensity of being spanked hard until I break. They don't offer the release I get from being spanked until I cry. I want to be a good girl because he wants me to be, but we both like the bad girl, so we have this balancing act, and it works for us.

In Honor of a Friend

2011-07-16T10:47:00.000-04:00

Four years ago today an amazing friend of mine died. We'd known each other for almost 30 years. We started out as teacher and student, but we became friends pretty quickly. I loved her, and I know she loved me too, in a non-judgemental way that's very rare. I never told her about my kink, but if I had, I know she wouldn't have treated me any differently. I wrote this story after she died for the SSC, which is why it's so short. I'm posting it here because I know she wouldn't mind.
--------------------------------------------------
Letting Go

Sarah sat on the couch in a funk she hadn't been able to shake for weeks. She knew she had to get back to normal, but she couldn't seem to force herself to stop wallowing in her grief. When Tom sat down next to her, she barely noticed.

"Hey, you want to get out of here for a while," Tom asked.

"Huh? Oh, no, I just want to stay in. I'm not in the mood to do anything," Sarah said.

"You know that Katie would have a fit if she knew you were shutting yourself away because she's gone, right?" Tom asked.

Sarah glared at him. "She isn't gone, she's dead. There's a difference. We were friends for 28 years, I'm allowed to miss her."

"Of course you are, but you can't stop living too. You need a good hard spanking to get you out of this mood," Tom said.

"That's just so wrong, I can't even tell you how wrong it is!" Sarah sprang up from the couch ready to bolt from the room, but Tom caught her by the arm and pulled her back down on the couch.

"Why is it wrong? You know it would help to get rid of all of the tension that's been building up in you," Tom said calmly.

"It's wrong because I want it, but I shouldn't. It's too soon to want anything that would feel good. I feel guilty even thinking about it," Sarah said.

Tom took both of her hands in his, turning her so that she faced him. "It's part of the process, wanting to feel good again. Don't feel guilty, just let me help you."

Sarah didn't resist as Tom pulled her across him to lie across his lap, but she tensed up as she felt him reach to pull down her pants and panties. It felt like too much too soon, and she struggled momentarily, making it difficult for him to bare her bottom. Even so, it didn't take long for him to manage it.

The first slap of hand on bare skin shocked her. She'd felt only emotional pain for weeks, and hadn't allowed physical pain to replace it. Now she had no choice. Slap after slap, the pain and heat built up, pushing her closer to the edge. All of her anger, heartbreak, and sadness came right up to the surface, taunting her, making her fight against Tom and the spanking. She struggled against herself, knowing that part of her was lost forever, and her anger grew until one hard slap to her upper thigh. The dam broke and she started crying, powerful sobs that came from the bottom of her soul. It wasn't until she felt Tom's arms around her that she noticed he'd stopped spanking her.

She didn't know how long she cried, all she knew was that Tom held her the whole time, and when she woke up in bed next to him, she felt better than she had in a long time.

Before and After

2011-07-13T19:11:00.000-04:00

I was going through the archives of the SSC (Short Story Contest) from the newsgroup. They don't have my earliest stories there, but I was going through my 2001 stories and found two that showed how different my thinking was from when I was younger compared to what it was once I got online and found myself, kink-wise. They're bookend stories as it were, so I decided I'd post them here. I can't believe that was ten years ago already!

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

Before-

Damaged Goods

She was too young to understand what was done to her, too young to process the pain she felt. He took advantage of her innocence to make her believe she was bad, that nobody would love her, or want her, ever. She was too young to know any different, so she believed.

She was punished for his own faults, his own demons. Her small childish missteps were blown out of proportion, handled with rage and violence. She never understood why, all she knew was that she was bad. She had to be if she got spanked and then ignored, never forgiven, never told she was a good girl again. If that was what getting spanked really was. It wasn't like she saw in the movies or on tv, it was so much worse. She was the perpetual bad girl, even though she wasn't sure what she'd done. Whatever it was, it had to have been very bad to make him hate her the way he did.

She refused to accept authority after a while, any authority. She only followed the rules out of fear, or because she thought it would make him like her, but it didn't. Nothing got better, only worse. She was always wrong, always bad. She couldn't get away from that feeling, even at such a young age. She was only a little girl, she should have been happy, not always sure that everyone knew that she was bad.

She was broken before she even had a chance to know who she was or what she wanted. Her soul damaged so deeply and so early that she had no choice in what she became. So sad, so lonely, thinking that he was right, that she'd be alone always, no friends, no love. Part of her remained five years old, holding on to the only thing she'd ever really learned, ever knew for sure, that she was a bad girl, that there was no hope of anything else. She became what he wanted her to be.

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

After-

Learning to Trust

Once upon a time, I was foolish enough to believe that men were evil. It was what I grew up with, too early learned. It was imprinted on my soul like an unwanted tattoo.

Paternal rage, unpredictable hurricanes of torment, ruled my life. Rules were momentary or oppressive, consequences brutal or nonexistent. The belt on bare skin was the chosen form of consequence too often. No forgiveness afterward, just pain. Not erotic, only something to block out if possible, even when I knew that spanking, in a normal sense, made my body tingle.

The idea that men were bad, not to be trusted, remained even in adulthood. It would take so much to prove otherwise. Challengers were very few and far between, and those proved rather than disproved. Marriage solidified the concept. Being single seemed preferable at times.

Then it came to pass that spanking became a real part of life, not just fantasy or something not to be remembered. It was finally something to be reveled in, celebrated. Along with spanking came friends, some male. To trust was essential in this new life, for without it there was nothing. But would the belief be eradicated or vindicated.

I wanted to trust, and in the beginning most likely did so too willingly. Even in the new territory of my sexual liberation, hopes were dashed, twice in quick succession. I pushed on though, not willing to give up so easily when so much was at stake. I needed this new way of life, needed a spanked ass and the emotional release that could come with that.

There came a day when I realized that my beliefs were no longer valid. A well-chosen group of male friends had come along, one at a time, showing me each in their own way that men weren't what I had always thought. One in particular showed me what authority was supposed to be, consistent, safe. I trusted and relaxed finally, no longer having to wonder when the trust would be smashed. I knew that it would always be there. No promises had ever been made that weren't kept.

Spankings, real, non-brutal spankings, were given for misbehavior, along with something I'd never had before. Forgiveness, the knowledge that I wasn't the miserable creature I had once been led to believe I was, that I was worthy of that forgiveness, and I could never do something that would make me unworthy. It healed something deep inside, allowing me to own this thing in me, this need to be spanked, whether for punishment or sex. It was mine, and the brutality of the past couldn't take that away from me. Once upon a time, I was foolish enough to believe that men were evil. I'm glad I was wrong.

An Old Party Report

2011-07-10T13:19:00.000-04:00

I posted this way back in '05 on SSS, after a particularly great fetish party I went to. I've left it in its original form, which I found a while back on Google.
-------------------------------------------------

It's been a long time since I've posted about any RL playing that I've
done, mostly because it's been so long between times. I finally got to
a party last night, but not one of the ones I used to post about. This
was a fetish party, so there was a really good mix of people of all kink
persuasions. I'd never been to a party where there were lots of
different kinds of play. I've been playing in the scene since '99, but
this was my first experience with watching people who didn't all have my
exact kink, and it was really cool. There was a LOT of cross-over, so I
didn't feel out of place at all.

I went with a friend from high school who I recently reconnected with,
mostly because of the first spanking movie I ever bought from Shadow
Lane. The guy in the movie had the same name and same basic features of
this guy I remembered from high school, and ever since then I'd wanted
to find him again to see if it was him in the movie. Well, long story
short, I found him on the alumni site for our high school, and I emailed
him. I mentioned that movie, but not what it was about, and his answer
made me think that he wouldn't be freaked out by a spanking movie. I
sent him the link so he'd know why I thought the guy looked like him, he
agreed, and said that he wouldn't have minded being that guy! We talked
on the phone after that, and he mentioned this fetish party that he
wanted to take his girlfriend to and said that if I wanted to go to let
him know. I jumped at the chance, because except for last September
when I got to play with Greg in Boston, I hadn't played in two years and
I desperately needed the chance.

I met up with them at the bar where the party was, and I knew right away
that I'd get a chance to play, because on the dance floor there were a
couple spanking benches, and a couple St. Andrew's crosses. There was a
leather dealer right inside the door, and I finally bought my first
flogger! I'd always wanted one, but they're usually too expensive.
This one is green suede and not very long, so when Greg uses it on me he
won't have to worry about controlling it. It's also heavy, which is
what I like.

Anyway, we were sitting around talking, and my friend started talking to
this guy who turned out to be a Top. He sat at our table and we started
talking about what kind of playing we like to do. One thing led to
another, especially once he found out that I'm a painslut, and we
decided to go outside where we could actually hear each other. There
was a St. Andrew's cross out on the patio too. He got his toy bag out,
and told me that I was wearing too much. I wasn't sure about getting
rid of EVERYTHING I was wearing, but it didn't take too long for me to
end up just wearing a thong and some strategically placed electrical
tape. LOL I will say that the only reason I felt okay playing with
somebody I didn't know was because my friend and his girlfriend wanted
to watch, so I knew I had backup, otherwise I never would've done it.

He wanted to do some breast bondage, and I wasn't too sure about that
because I'd never played with that before, but I figured that there are
other things I'd never liked until I tried them, so what the hell. That
part was okay, once he'd been working them over for a while, but it
didn't really did much for me. He had my hands connected to the cross
way over my head, and eventually we had to switch the leather cuffs to
the lower hooks down by my sides so my hands stopped going numb. At one
point I was standing there looking up at the night sky, and I wondered
how I'd made it to a level where I didn't mind being 41, and by no means
skinny, all but naked, cuffed to a cross with everybody looking at
me (people wandered in and out of the bar onto the patio the whole
time), while this guy was doing all sorts of wonderfully painful things
to me. It was liberating and amazing all at the same time. The great
thing was that absolutely nobody gave a damn about my size.

Eventually he turned me around so he could work on the other side.
This was what I really wanted and needed, and he was up to the
challenge. Not everybody can play at the level I like, which is pretty
high. He used a bunch of floggers, a crop, some paddles (I had no idea
they made metal paddles!), and there was a buggy whip and a quirt
somewhere in the action too. There was one flogger that he said would
make me scream, but he doesn't know my tolerence level! LOL It was just
really really good.

He pulled my hair at one point, which was also new for me. I have long hair, so
there was a lot to grab. Nobody had ever done that before, and I'd
always wondered if it would be a turn on for me. There's something
about it that is definitely a turn on, but I think it would be much hotter with
people I've played with a lot .

I'd realized a couple years ago that I like sensation play, but I
haven't had much experience with it. He had one of those spikey wheels
(can't remember the name right now), and when he used it on me,
especially where he'd flogged and whipped, I damn near orgasmed! It was
great, and by that time I was feeling very relaxed, probably more than
I'd been in a long time.

I think my friend's girlfriend was intrigued by watching me, because
they came up to us, and the guy used the wheel on her too. It turns out
that she likes it just as much as I did and had pretty much the same
reaction I did, so there's potential there. I like people who are
willing to try new things. :)

After I got dressed, we went back in to watch all the other people who
were playing. I saw a woman who REALLY knows how to use two floggers at
the same time. Wow, that was very cool! If I go to another one of
those parties, I might have to see if she's willing to do that to me.

Today I have some very cool marks, and I'm hoping that they last more
than a day or two. I hope so, I hate when they don't last, because I
like looking at them.

Back to normal

2011-07-07T16:17:00.000-04:00

Last night G. and I discussed the math thing. We haven't come up with a plan yet, but at least it's out there. The best part of it is, he's back in charge, at least of my spankings. Family things had taken his mind away from what we used to do, and we had adapted at the time. I guess we got used to it, not even talking about spanking much, if at all, except as a joke. I realize now that this was what had been missing. I liked him telling me what was going to happen as far as when I could get up from the mat, or how much I would get spanked. With my months long hiatus from even being able to spank myself due to my own living situation, we had gone on to other things, filling our time with online things that didn't involve spanking at all. Last night I felt settled for the first time in so long, and today was when I realized what was different. He made me spank myself with my new toy on the phone, bedroom door closed. We don't normally risk that because I live with family, but the air conditioner and the tv were on in the living room, and it blocked any sound coming from my room. Luckily the new toy (I'm considering calling it "The Evil Whippy Thing" LOL) isn't loud like all my other toys. After getting spanked with that for a while, I had to get out the mat and sit on it while we talked. It was so nice to feel that he was taking back the reins finally. I've been a grown up and in charge of everything for over a year now, and I missed being able to just let him take over. It was funny how we fell into our old roles again so easily. After twelve years I guess it's like riding a bike, you don't forget how to do it. We did all of our other normal stuff, just like every other night, but there was that extra little part, me sitting on the mat and him deciding that if I asked if I could get off that he would make me sit on it longer that made me happy. Everything was right with the world again.

Feeling Guilty

2011-07-05T17:43:00.000-04:00

After thinking about that audio clip that I avoided for two years, and knowing what he was trying to do with it, I've been feeling slightly guilty. It makes me feel like I deserve the spankings I've been getting, even though I have to do them myself. Sunday I was able to have a decently long session, over half an hour, and I used many implements. My bottom hurt for the rest of the day, and when I got to do a few minutes with the new toy yesterday, I could tell that my bottom was still sore from Sunday. There are still some sore spots on my bottom, which reminds me that I've been punished for something I feel guilty about. I haven't talked to him about it yet, that won't come until tomorrow, but having been spanked makes me feel a little bit better about things. Hopefully he'll make me sit on the mat tomorrow night on the phone, like he did for an hour on Sunday night.

Back about seven years ago, I felt so guilty about something that I kept pushing him to ratchet up the punishments he was already giving me for something else. That's when we found out that embarrassment works so well on me in punishment situations. I felt I deserved to have people see my very spanked bare bottom, and even though it didn't happen, just the idea that it could, and that it was all part of my punishment, helped my guilt, even though it took a good part of that summer. Being punished by him in person ALWAYS gets rid of any guilt I feel, but the long distance punishments take a while to work. My guilt isn't all that bad this time, so I'm pretty sure a few more spankings and some more mat time should do the trick. Talking to him tomorrow will also help. It always does. He'll just consider the extra spankings to be a bonus. : )

Being Stubborn

2011-07-04T15:53:00.001-04:00

Earlier today I finally got a free zip program. There was an audio clip that G. had sent me along with the others a couple years ago that I had ignored because it wasn't about spanking or anything. It was about math, which I hate, mostly because I can't do it. I was good with math until 3rd grade when we had to memorize the multiplication tables. It didn't totally do me in, but it slowed me down. I did much better with fractions and things like that. By 5th grade we were into subjects that were getting me farther and farther into a hole, and being emotionally crippled didn't help my self esteem in this area. By 8th grade I pretty much stopped paying attention and looked out the window daydreaming instead. I barely passed Fundamentals of Algebra in 9th grade, and my second semester teacher told me that I got all the steps down for the problems, but my math was no good.

So of course I got a Top who's a math brainiac. LOL It wasn't planned, but he's been adamant over the years about my learning the higher math that I've been avoiding for the past 30+ years. I think because of my past stubbornness, and the fact that we live so far apart, he had given up on the idea, because we haven't really talked about it in a long time. The audio clip brought it all back though, and I wrote him an email telling him that I'm willing to try again. He sounded so angry in the clip, and I've only heard him like that a couple other times in the whole twelve years that I've known him. It wasn't what he said that told me, it was his tone. He can be very authoritative in what he says, and I know he means business, but when he's truly angry it's the only time he can make me cry without it being from a spanking.

I know I've been stubborn about avoiding math, mostly because it's just so much work for me to learn it. I'm not stupid, not by a long shot, but my past attempts have made me reticent to try again. I don't do well with failure, being something of a control freak, but if that's what he really wants, I'm going to give it another try. He's much more stubborn than I am, so we'll see how long it takes before I bend and really give it my all.

Is it just me?

2011-07-02T18:51:00.000-04:00

I've been thinking since my last post. Different things get different people going, whether you're a spanko or not. One thing that I didn't know until about seven years ago, is that the idea that somebody might see my bare bottom after a spanking gets me going on a serious level. Whether it's somebody who isn't into spanking, or somebody into spanking but just happens upon the situation, it's all hot for me. If it's a set up situation, where the people are already there, I would have to be receiving a punishment spanking to have the same reaction. Being punished gets me into a completely different mindset, where I feel very vulnerable and much more helpless. It's the only time that embarrassment works on me. I've been spanked in front of a lot of people at parties, and I don't even think twice. I've never been punished at a party though, at least not in the public room.

I've had lots of fantasies about being spanked in public, as punishment, or having somebody look through a window to see my bare bottom after I've been spanked, which is what prompted the last post. I just wonder how many other people have this as part of their kink. Some people freak out at the thought that somebody might see them in that kind of situation. I know that others have it as part of their fantasies, but does it become a turn on if the situation actually comes up in real life? Even if it doesn't quite happen, but goes right to the brink, is that enough to give the person a thrill? If a situation gets very close to my being discovered like that, I panic, but then after things calm down again, it gives me that thrill. The closer it gets, the bigger the thrill. I'm sure if something really happened where somebody saw me who would react badly about it, I wouldn't get the same physical reaction. It's the thought of somebody who is intrigued by seeing something like that actually happening upon me having just been spanked and visible through a window or something, THAT drives my fantasies.

It's not just that though. Being made to tell somebody about what happened, that I had to get spanked as punishment is a mix of embarrassment and hotness that drives me wild. I guess part of it is being helpless, being forced to make myself vulnerable beyond just being spanked. I don't like embarrassing situations otherwise, and avoid them at all costs, but in this one area, it's a huge turn on for me.

Am I in the minority on this? I'd like to get comments on this, just to see what the general consensus is.

Fact or Fiction?

2011-07-01T20:23:00.000-04:00

Once upon a time, not so long ago, there was a very naughty girl. She was so naughty that she had to get her bare bottom spanked every Saturday morning for months. Her Top did not live near her, so he said that she would have to spank herself in his place. Every Saturday she would wake up and have to get a switch from a tree outside her window, and then carry it in back into her apartment building so that people would be able to see it. She had to whip herself with the switch until her bare bottom was very sore and it had red welts all over it. She also had to use the big evil hairbrush on her bare bottom, and the belt. She had to spank herself for as long as she was alone in the apartment, because she lived with other people and couldn't always carry out her punishment spankings.

Because she lived in a basement apartment, her Top decided that instead of corner time, she would have to bend over her kitchen table, with the windows and blinds open, very red bare bottom facing the window. Her only saving grace was that the window was higher on the wall than a normal window, so if somebody walked by they might NOT be able to see inside. She was always so embarrassed when she had to stay there, bending over on display. When she heard people walking by the window she would freeze and hope that they weren't looking at her very red, very sore bare bottom.

One day she knew she was going to be alone all day, so the spankings would last for a long time. She would have to use all the implements over and over, and she knew that sitting down in the days to come would be very painful. She dutifully spanked and spanked, first with the switch, then with the hairbrush, then the paddle that had been made especially for her, then the belt. She bent over the kitchen table hoping not to be seen, and then started the spankings all over again. She had just spanked herself very hard with the hairbrush in the living room, and was kneeling on the couch bending over a pillow on the arm of the couch, her red bare bottom facing the living room window. The next thing she knew, she heard loud noises, coming very close to the window, which was behind a row of shrubs. She should have been safe there, because nobody could walk by and look in because of those shrubs. What she hadn't counted on was this was the day that the landscaping company was trimming all the bushes in the complex. She couldn't make herself look over her shoulder as the noise got louder and louder. She knew that the men were right outside her window, some in front of the bushes, some behind them close to the window, with their equipment for trimming the shrubs. She was petrified and mortified at the same time, because she was in full view, not more than ten feet from the men. She was so scared that she couldn't move, so there she was, very spanked and very red bare bottom on full display for the men to see. The loud noises didn't stop, quite the opposite. They lasted for a very long time. She knew that they were staying there for much longer than they had for any other building. After what seemed forever, the noise stopped, but the men didn't leave. They were clearing the area of all the branches they had cut off, and she knew they were taking their time doing that too. She heard two of the men talking and laughing, but they were speaking Spanish, so she didn't know what they were saying. She just knew they were talking about her though. They had to be. They had been there for a long time, and didn't seem in any hurry to leave. She thought about what they were saying, about how she must be a very naughty girl to have such a red bare bottom. About how she looked like she had been spanked very hard for a long time. She could feel how hot her face was, and knew that it was as hot and red as her bare bottom was. Still, she couldn't move. She would have to see the men if she got up then, and she couldn't stand the idea of having to see their faces. Finally, when she thought they would stand there watching her all day, she heard them leave the window area. She turned to check and then left the living room, more embarrassed than she had ever been in her life.

After a while she calmed down and continued with her spankings. Her Top would be angry with her if she stopped for any reason short of an emergency. She was spanking herself in the living room again a little later, feeling safer because she knew that the men had moved on, when one of them came walking back across the courtyard, obviously wanting to see what she was up to. He saw her spanking herself, and she tried to leave the room, but it wasn't fast enough to avoid seeing him. It happened again a little while later, another of them came walking across to the window and caught her bending over, farther into the living room, trying to avoid the window. He was a brave one, walking right up to the shrubs, pretending that he needed to clean up there again. Again he had a full view of her very spanked, red bare bottom. She could see him by turning her head just a little, and saw him standing there looking at her. She turned her head away fast, and didn't see him walk away, but she knew he had stayed there for a few minutes.

If it hadn't been for her Top's rules, she would've closed the windows and stopped spanking herself, but neither were allowed, and she was in enough trouble. Later that day she wrote him an email telling him about it, and when they talked on the phone the next day he asked her many very embarrassing questions about it. She felt her face flush bright red all over again at the thought of having been seen by the men, but her Top wouldn't let her avoid the questions. He made her tell him again in agonizing detail, and she could tell that he relished every word. For the rest of the summer he brought it up to embarrass her over and over again, and she blushed every time.

She got many more spankings after that, but nobody saw her spanked bare bottom after that time.

Longing-A Poem

2011-06-26T15:54:00.000-04:00

I just posted this on the newsgroup for the SSC, but I know that most of the people who read this blog don't read the newsgroup.
-------------------------------

Longing

I yearn for your touch,

Your hand on my bottom,

It's been too long since

the last time,

When you changed my

pale skin to red,

And my demeanor from

stubborn to calm,

Making everything right

in the universe.

I need to feel all of it again,

Your belt scorching my skin,

The paddle demanding my

full attention,

All at your command,

I relinquish all control,

Needing only your power

to guide me,

Leading me in the direction

you wish me to go.

I miss these things,

And my longing is becoming

all encompassing.

Over Her Knee Part 2

2011-06-25T22:16:00.000-04:00

Part 2

It had been over a month since Jessica's spanking for not cleaning her room, and she was starting to feel what she knew was a false sense of security. She knew that something would happen to warrant another spanking, sooner rather than later. It never failed to happen. She should have remembered that the day her friends invited her out for drinks after work. She hadn't been keeping track of how much she drank, but she felt okay by the time she left the bar. At least she didn't feel all that drunk, but the officer who stopped her on her way home felt differently after he made her get out of her car. She had stumbled out, and standing by the car, she had felt the world start spinning slightly. She tried to talk the officer into letting her go.

“Please, I'll go right home, I won't stop anywhere on the way,” she had slurred.

“You can't drive in the shape you're in. You're going to the station with me,” the officer said sternly.

“I can't, my mother will be so angry if she has to come pick me up. She'll spank me,” Jessica said loudly, and then realized what she had said. She blushed furiously.

“Well, from what I can see, you need one,”the officer said, a glint in his eye.

“You don't believe me,”Jessica asked.

“At your age? Of course I don't believe you,” the officer said.

Jessica was too embarrassed to argue the point. She hadn't meant to say what she had blurted out, and the fact that he didn't believe her at least allowed her keep her dignity. He probably just thought she was too drunk to think of a good excuse, she thought. She knew that what she had said was all too true though, and her stomach did violent flips, almost making her sick to her stomach. She didn't want to call her mother, because she would hear The Tone more than what her mother would say. The Tone that meant that she probably wasn't going to be sitting any time in the near future. Something this big would bring much worse consequences than even the shoplifting had. She was a grown woman now, much too old to do something this stupid, and she knew she was going to pay for it with the sorest bare bottom she had ever experienced in her whole life. The shoplifting incident would seem mild compared to what her mother would do to her for this.

Two hours later, as she sat in the police station, she saw her mother walk authoritatively through the door. She looked as strict as Jessica knew that she was. She wanted to sink into the floor, and tried to avoid looking at her mother as she approached.

“You stay here while I take care of things.”

Jessica looked up at her mother, and felt those eyes bore straight into her. She looked away as fast as she could as her mother walked to the desk to talk to the officer in charge. Soon, with all the formalities taken care of, Jessica was in the car on the way home to her doom.

“I hope you realize that you're in more trouble than you've ever been in. Your blood alcohol level was .10! Do you realize what could have happened if you had been in an accident? I can't let this go with just a simple spanking. You will go to work, but since you can't drive, I will drive you to and from work. You will not leave the house without me. A lawyer may be able to get your license back right away, but until further notice, you are not allowed to ask for it. I will let you know when I think you can be trusted again, and only then will you be allowed to get your license back. You will be spanked every day until your case goes to court. I asked the officer, and he said that could take at least a month. Today and tomorrow you will be spanked multiple times, including bedtime spankings. After tomorrow you will get the bedtime spanking every day. Those spankings will occur just before your new bedtime, which will be much earlier, until further notice. When we get home, you will go to your room, you will remove your pants and your panties, and you will stand in the corner to wait for your first spanking. Once you take your pants and panties off, it will be up to me when you will be allowed to wear them again in the house. You will be bare from the waist down until I decide you've learned your lesson. You will also only be allowed to sit on one of the hard kitchen chairs, even in the living room. You are going to be one very sorry girl.”

“Yes, Ma'am,”Jessica mumbled. The thought of everything her mother had just said took her breath away. The effects of the alcohol had been clouding her mind until her mother's words had hit her like ice water. She knew that her mother would have no problem treating her like a very naughty ten year old, and she knew what that meant. Spankings before she had been a teenager had been humiliating in more ways than one. She hadn't been allowed to wear anything from the waist down after a spanking for at least an hour, so that her bare bottom had been on display. Being the only child of a single mother meant that there was no one else to witness her humiliation, but that hadn't lessened it at all. That rule had changed when she had developed physically, but she knew that her mother wasn't above changing that for something this serious. She knew she deserved to be spanked, but she wasn't sure how she would handle being spanked every day for the foreseeable future, especially under the new rules.

When they pulled up into the driveway, Jessica's heart started to race. Her doom was now at hand, just on the other side of that door. She wanted to walk as slowly as she could, to delay things just a little, but she knew that her mother would spank her even more for that. She wondered just how many spankings she would get over the next two days. There was no stopping her mother from deciding that she would be spanked all day the next day, considering that the next day was Saturday. It was still light outside, and as she walked to the front door she swore that the neighbors knew what had happened, and what was about to happen. She suddenly wondered if anyone could hear what went on inside the house during her spankings. She had never thought about it before, but her spankings were normally over in a matter of a few minutes.

Once inside the door, she was halfway down the hallway to her room when her mother stopped her. She walked back, wondering what was about to change.

“Remove your pants and panties right here. I'm going to take them so that you aren't tempted to put them back on later. I'm going to remove all your pants and panties from your room, along with your robe and most of your shirts. You can keep the ones that are too short to cover your bottom. I will give you clothes to wear every morning before work, but I won't have you trying to cover up your bottom, even when you're alone in your room. I want you to think about what you did, and keeping your bottom bare for the next month or so will make sure that happens. You won't be able to pretend that none of this is happening, that you're going to have to face a judge in a courtroom because you were incapable of making the right decision at your age.”

Jessica looked at her mother, but she knew she wouldn't change her mind. She blushed so deeply that she could feel it in her chest. Her mother had pulled her pants down so many times over the years, so this wasn't the first time, but it had been decades since she had been forced to be bare for longer than a spanking took. Now, except for work, she would be bare from the waist down for weeks at best, months at worst. She couldn't look her mother in the eye, keeping her head down as she removed her pants, reluctantly and slowly removed her panties, and handed them both to her mother. She turned quickly and ran to her room, knowing what her mother saw as she ran away. She closed her door and went to the corner, where she stood waiting for her mother to come and spank her.

Jessica didn't know how long she had been standing there, but she knew that it was longer than it should have been. Her mother wasn't one to make her wait very long for a spanking. When she did finally hear her mother's footsteps coming toward her room, she wished that she had more time. The door opened, and she heard her mother walk to the middle of the room. She expected to hear her desk chair being moved to the center of the room, but the almost comforting sound of what was to come was conspicuously absent. Jessica was suddenly afraid of the spanking she was about to get for the first time in a long time.

“Turn around, Jessica,”her mother said sternly.

Jessica turned around, realizing how exposed she was, and her blood ran cold at the sight of what her mother held in her hand. It was a switch, long and thin, and as evil looking a thing as Jessica had ever seen. Her mother had planted the birch tree in the back yard when Jessica had been a little girl. She had told her how her own mother had used a switch on her when she had misbehaved, and she had told Jessica that she would use one on her if she was ever so naughty that nothing else would work. Well, this is pretty much the worst thing I've ever done, she thought. She shivered as she stood there, from fear more than from the fact that she was mostly naked. She watched as her mother moved the two pillows from the head of the bed to the middle.

“I want you over those pillows right now, young lady. This is going to be something you're never going to forget.”

Jessica's legs felt leaden as she walked to the bed, and placed herself over the pillows. As many spankings as her mother had given her over the years, she had never felt the switch and didn't know what to expect.

She heard her mother come up next to the bed, and heard the switch cut through the air. The next thing she knew there was a line of fire across her bare bottom. She cried out, something she never did, but it had taken her by surprise. That cry barely had a chance to die away before the next stroke hit just below the first. Another line of fire, another cry. She didn't know how she would make it through whatever her mother was going to do to her with that switch. Her mother continued to whip her with it, and soon all she could do was lie there with her mouth open, no sound coming out. Her entire bottom was on fire, and she had stopped being able to feel each line separately. She lost count of how many strokes of the switch her mother had laid on her bare bottom. She couldn't think about that or anything else, there was just the white hot pain.

She didn't even notice at first when her mother stopped whipping her with the switch. Not until she felt her mother smooth back her hair and stroke her head did she realize that the agony was over. At that touch, she knew that her mother wasn't doing this because she hated her or wanted her to hurt. She was doing it to teach her that she needed to suffer the consequences of her very stupid decision to drink and then drive. As much as her bottom hurt, she loved her mother right then more than she had realized in a long time.

“Rest now, and I'll be back later,”her mother said softly, and left the room. Before the door was closed, Jessica was asleep.

Need Feedback To Finish Over Her Knee Story

2011-06-21T18:50:00.000-04:00

A few nights ago I posted the first part of a story that got enough positive comments that I decided to continue it. A couple nights ago I got a really good idea for a way to progress the story, but I need some feedback first. Is there such a thing as too much when it comes to punishment if the actual spankings aren't over the top? Is there a number of spankings per day/week that would be ridiculous? The idea I have is for a major infraction that leads directly to legal trouble. In my fantasies, things ratchet up pretty fast, but this is a story that isn't just for my enjoyment, so I don't want it to become silly. What I have so far is only severe as far as length of time that she'd be punished. Where I got hung up was in the number of spankings per day. What's a legitimate number and what's over the top? I don't normally write out my fantasies because of this problem, and even though this isn't one of my fantasies, this second part could approach that over the top level fast if I don't control it. I need to know what YOU think, because so far, part two is REALLY good. : )

Another story: Learning to Ask

2011-06-19T17:06:00.000-04:00

Jessie just wanted time to herself, but all she got was more stress. It was getting so that she couldn’t think straight. She couldn’t even manage to spend time with Stella anymore, and it was starting to put a strain on their relationship. They had always said they wouldn’t let the world get in the way, but with Jessie’s class load and Stella’s recent spell of overtime, the world loomed large. Stella seemed to be able to handle it, but Jessie tended to let things build up until the pressure got the better of her. Stella had her special way of making sure things didn’t get to that level most of the time, but the overtime had made it difficult for her to take charge in her usual manner. Jessie found herself snapping at Stella more and more often, and she was starting to notice Stella giving her that warning look, but she couldn’t seem to control herself anymore. She needed Stella to take her in hand. She just couldn’t ask for it.

While waiting for Stella to come home from work one night, Jessie became increasingly agitated. She felt as though Stella cared more about her work than their relationship. She knew that they needed the money, what with Stella allowing her to go back to school full time to get her degree, but she still felt slighted. By the time Stella came through the door, all Jessie could do was glare at her and stomp around the house, banging dishes and glasses on the table as she set it. Dinner was eaten without a word spoken, after Stella’s initial attempts at conversation were met by Jessie’s cold stares.

After dinner Stella finally broke the stony silence. “What’s up, Jessie” she asked.

“Like you don’t know,” Jessie said curtly. She stood defiantly in the middle of the living room, facing Stella, who sat on the couch.

“No, I don’t know, and I’d like to. I can tell you’re upset about something, but you haven’t really told me anything in days. I can’t help if I don’t know what’s wrong,” Stella said.

Jessie really looked at Stella for the first time that night, without the veil of anger in front of her eyes. “I thought you didn’t care anymore,” she said quietly, “All you ever do now is work.”

Stella sighed, stood up, and walked over to Jessie. “I’m sorry if it seems like I’ve been ignoring you. I just couldn’t turn down the overtime if we’re going to make a go of this. Why didn’t you say something before this if it’s been bothering you so much,” she asked, raising one eyebrow.

Jessie knew what that raised eyebrow meant, and her bottom cheeks clenched in anticipation. Stella would definitely spank her for allowing things to get to this point. Stella hated it when Jessie played the petulant child, allowing emotions to rule instead of logic.

“I didn’t realize it first, and then when I did it was too late. School has been so hectic that I was already stressed out, and not having you to come to made it worse,” Jessie said, pleading her case. She had a feeling it wouldn’t work.

“You know that when your stress level is starting to build that you’re supposed to let me know so that we can deal with it. I’m not going to lecture you though, because I know what you really need is a good hard spanking, not words,” Stella said.

Jessie looked into Stella’s eyes, and knew she deserved to be spanked. She needed to learn not to let things get her so upset. She had to learn to trust that Stella wouldn’t just stop caring about her. She had to learn so many things.

Stella led her back to the couch, and sat down. She unzipped Jessie’s jeans, tugged them down to her knees, and her panties followed. Jessie trembled as the cold air, and a little shame at having acted so silly washed over her. She surrendered easily as Stella took her hand and led her to kneel on the couch. Jessie laid herself across Stella’s lap, wanting to show Stella that she was willing to accept the punishment.

Stella didn’t spare Jessie at all, even from the start. She spanked hard and fast, too fast for Jessie’s liking. She started kicking and yelling, completely forgetting that she had planned on accepting the punishment. She couldn’t get on top of the pain, it was just too overwhelming. She fought against it, which she knew she shouldn’t do, but she couldn’t help it. She twisted and tried to free herself, all to no avail. Stella’s grip was much stronger than Jessie’s attempts, and all Jessie succeeded in doing was wearing herself out.

Just when Jessie thought it would be over, she felt Stella stop and reach over to the end table next to the couch. She wondered what Stella was doing, but not for long. The hairbrush smacking down on her bare bottom answered her unspoken question, and she renewed her thrashing. The spanking continued until Jessie gave up and lay sobbing across Stella’s knees. Stella rubbed Jessie’s back, calming her down.

“Now, have you learned to ask me for a spanking when you start to get stressed out,” Stella asked.

“Yes Ma’am,” Jessie said, trying not to sound too pathetic.

“Good. Hopefully you’ll remember this the next time. Now come on, it’s time for bed,” Stella said.

Jessie stood up, painfully, and gratefully followed Stella into the bedroom, where they were finally able to shut the world out once again.

Should I continue this story?

2011-06-19T16:52:00.000-04:00

I found this partial story that I'd started back in 2008. It has potential, but I'd like input from people who read my blog.
------------------------------------

Over Her Knee

Jessica's bottom hurt so much that she had to ease herself down carefully to sit on the chair. She knew it would hurt to sit, but not as much as it did once her bottom made contact with the hard wood. She had to sit on her bare bottom, which was very red and sore because of the spanking she had just endured. She didn't know how she would sit for fifteen minutes, but that was the rule. She was feeling very sorry for herself as the heat and pain in her bottom was made worse by the chair pressing into it. She struggled not to squirm too much, because she knew that would earn her another hard spanking.

The whole situation was made worse by the fact that it was her mother who had spanked her. After pulling down Jessica's pants and panties, her mother had put her over her knee and had paddled Jessica's bare bottom with the big hairbrush until it was bright red and Jessica was crying her eyes out. It would've been bad enough if Jessica had been a teenager, but she was a grown woman. She still lived at home, and she knew she wasn't always the most attentive to things she should do around the house, but to be spanked on her bare bottom over her mother's knee like she was a six year old girl was too embarrassing to think about. Right then all she could think about was the sting and ache in her bottom. Fifteen minutes felt like an hour.

Just when she thought she was going to jump off the chair, the reprieve came. “Okay, you can get up now. Go to your room and start cleaning, but no rubbing. You know what will happen if I catch you rubbing your bottom,” her mother warned.

Yes, she knew what would happen if her mother caught her rubbing her sore bottom. After her last spanking two weeks earlier, she had thought she was safely out of sight and had dared to rub the sting away. Her mother had turned the corner in the hallway and had seen her standing in her room furiously rubbing her red bare bottom. Her mother had grabbed her roughly by the arm and had marched her straight into the living room where she had found herself once again over her mother's knee, being paddled even harder than her first spanking, and for much longer. Jessica cried much sooner and for a long time after the spanking was over. She wasn't going to risk that again.

“Can I lay on my bed on my stomach,” Jessica asked. She knew the answer, but she had to try.

“No, you may not, young lady. You're still being punished. I'll be in there in half an hour to check your progress, and if I think you haven't done enough cleaning, you'll get another spanking. This time it won't be with the hairbrush, it'll be with the belt,” her mother threatened.

Jessica went to her room and started cleaning. Her bottom hurt so much that bending over to reach the floor hurt just as much as sitting on the chair had. She knew that her mother meant for that to be a reminder for her as she cleaned, but it made it difficult to do what she was supposed to do. If she couldn't clean fast enough she knew that the belt was in her very near future. She had been spanked with the belt a month ago, having sworn at her mother during a fight. She hadn't been able to sit for three days afterward, and had learned her lesson. She wouldn't be swearing at her mother again, that was for sure. She just hoped she could avoid the belt this time.

When Jessica heard her mother's footsteps approaching her bedroom, her stomach did flips. She knew that her mother would never accept the amount of cleaning she had managed in the half hour since her spanking. Her bottom cheeks clenched at the thought of the belt.

“Do you think you've done a good enough job in here,” her mother asked, giving Jessica the look that said she had better say no.

“No, Ma'am,” Jessica said, not able to look her mother in the eye.

“What did I say was going to happen if you didn't do a good job cleaning, young lady,” her mother asked.

“That you would spank me with the belt,”Jessica mumbled.

“Speak up, young lady.”

“That you would spank me with the belt,” Jessica said louder, embarrassed at hearing the words.

“And that's just what is about to happen,” her mother said as she placed two pillows on the edge of the bed, “Now bend over and don't you dare reach back to cover your bottom.”

Jessica bent over the pillows, which she knew made her bare bottom a perfect target. She could barely reach the floor, and she always felt so helpless in this position. She heard the clink of the belt buckle as her mother doubled the belt. She tried to be ready for it, but nothing could ever really prepare her for just how much it hurt. The first lick of the leather across her her bottom took her breath away, and the rest of the spanking was so fast that she couldn't get it back. She gasped and struggled and twisted around, trying to get away from the spanking. Bending over with her bare bottom high in the air, she was completely vulnerable. The spanking continued, and as always happened, Jessica started to cry. She wished it would mean the end of the spanking, but her mother would keep whipping her bottom with the belt until she had decided that Jessica had learned her lesson. A belt spanking from her mother was never a short occurrence. Her mother spanked for a very long time, and Jessica cried harder and harder. She finally stopped struggling, and her mother stopped spanking her, but she swore she could still feel the belt across her bottom.

“Now, are you going to clean your room the way you're supposed to? If not, I can spank you again. I'm sure another good dose of the hairbrush and belt will make sure that you do what you're told,” her mother said.

Jessica's breath hitched as she spoke. “I'll do what I'm supposed to. I'm sorry I was being lazy.”

“Good,” her mother said, “I'm sorry I had to spank you so hard, but I told you that if you didn't do what you were told that I would spank you again. A promise is a promise, and when I promise to spank you for misbehavior, I keep my promise, don't I?”

“Yes, Ma'am. Thank you for teaching me a lesson. I know I'll be a good girl now,”Jessica said, her very sore bottom making her mean every word that she said.

“I'm glad. I want you to be my good girl,” her mother said, and kissed Jessica on the forehead just like she had every time she had ever spanked her since she was a girl. It meant that she was forgiven. Even though the spankings hurt enough to make her cry, she felt better afterward, because she knew she was a good girl again.

As she cleaned her room, Jessica thought back to when she was a teenager and her mother had informed her that just because she was in high school, that didn't mean that she was too old to be taken over the knee for a long hard spanking on her bare bottom when needed. Jessica had protested, saying that yes, she was much too old for a spanking, especially on the bare bottom. She had yelled and stomped her foot and had told her mother that in no uncertain terms would she submit to even one more spanking. Her mother had then proceeded to take her firmly by the arm, yanking her pants and panties down with one arm while putting her unceremoniously over her knee. Jessica then got the spanking of her life, with the hairbrush for a solid ten minutes. Her protests had stopped fairly quickly, because she knew she was no match for her mother, and that her mother would just keep her over her knee spanking her until Jessica had absolutely no fight left in her. Jessica was soon reduced to a blubbering mass of quivering girl flesh, her bottom so sore that sitting was the last thing she wanted to do. That was when her mother started the ritual of making her sit on her sore bare bottom on the hard wooden chair for fifteen minutes. Her mother told her that since she was a teenager, stronger methods were obviously required. It took Jessica three more spankings and half an hour before she sat for the full fifteen minutes without jumping up from the pain in her sore bottom. Her mother had been insistent that this was the way it would be from then on, and that Jessica needed to learn to do what she was told or suffer the consequences.

That had been over two decades ago, and nothing had changed. Her mother might be more willing to use the belt for a second spanking when necessary, but that was the only change in all the years that Jessica had been spanked.

For the next week, Jessica had trouble sitting. Her mother had spanked her hard enough with the hairbrush and the belt to leave bruises on her sit spots, right where her mother wanted them. She knew that if it hurt for Jessica to sit for at least a few days, then the lesson would be learned that much faster. The worst lesson she had ever had to learn was when she was 16. Her mother had caught her shoplifting, and when the only excuse Jessica could come up with was that she had never been caught before, she hadn't been able to sit for a month. Her mother had spanked her with the belt every day for two weeks, and the bruises had lasted for almost twice that long. Her mother had wanted to impress upon her the seriousness of what she had done, and Jessica never shoplifted again.

Not being able to sit for a week was a minor inconvenience compared to that punishment, even if it meant that she had to pretend that there was nothing wrong when she went to work. It was difficult to sit without wincing in pain, but she had to try. Nobody could ever find out that she was still spanked on her bare bottom by her mother at her age, and especially not on a regular basis. She would never be able to live it down.

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

To be continued? Let me know!

Overcoming repression

2011-06-10T22:49:00.000-04:00

As I wrote the little blurb under the video, and came to the part about being repressed, I realized I could actually write a whole post about it.

I've written about having to hide who I was, and that as a kid I knew not to tell anybody about getting "that funny feeling" when I'd hear about spanking. Because it was such a deep dark secret, it also made me severely sexually repressed. It wasn't the ONLY reason, but it was a good part of it. Even as an adult, until I got online and figured things out, whenever people mentioned anything sexual, I would shut down and act like I didn't want to talk about it. That was because spanking WAS sex to me, and I thought that if I talked about sex, whoever I was talking to would know what I really wanted. It was so bad, that until I started dating the man I eventually married, my mother thought I was asexual. I wasn't, I just couldn't bring myself to show that side of me. I thought it would make me vulnerable to verbal attack, because at the time I thought it made me a freak to want to be spanked. I couldn't talk about sex, which was a little odd for somebody in their 20s. At the time, sex was a very private thing for me, and even joking around about it made me very uncomfortable.

I don't know if other people had the same problem until they came to terms with wanting to spank/be spanked. I've never really asked anybody, though it would seem to be an obvious topic of discussion in our circles, at least at some point. We talk about all the other aspects of our sexuality, even if what we do doesn't always involve actual sex. Some of us don't even involve sex in what we do, because our fantasies don't involve sex. As much as spanking is VERY sexual for me, my fantasies rarely involve sex. Maybe that's why I couldn't talk about sex way back when, because spanking made me hot and bothered, but the concept of vanilla sex didn't do anything for me at the time. While I was married that changed, but before that, it wasn't part of the picture for me. I was married to a man who was beyond vanilla, who had no imagination, and the couple times I did get him to spank me, I knew he wasn't into it. I'd told him what I wanted, but I still felt that I was sick to want it, mostly because of his reaction to it. I had sex while I was married, but I was still repressed. I had yet to be liberated by my own acceptance of what I wanted/needed and who I truly was.

After my divorce, I went online finally, and found "home" for me. SSS was the place where I felt more comfortable than I ever had in my entire life up until then. I explored the things I knew I was into, and eventually realized that I was into more than I had originally thought. Ageplay originally squicked me so badly that I couldn't read the stories, but then I found a series that made me realize that I had been missing something integral to who I was. As a kid I'd only known brutality in connection with spanking. I didn't know that there was supposed to be love and forgiveness associated with it in any way. Then I read those stories by Noriko, and it opened up a part of myself that had been buried so deep that I didn't know it had existed until then. Learning that about myself liberated me, making me open up in general, not just about sexuality. I wasn't repressed anymore, and I went from being an incredibly shy introvert, to being an extrovert who was willing to talk to anybody and everybody, instead of trying to blend into the woodwork. People I went to high school with would never believe it's me, and the people I know now don't believe me when I tell them that I was a shy, scared kid even beyond high school. I'm the person I was always meant to be, and it's so much better than being repressed and afraid that somebody might find out what I'm into.

Kinky song

2011-06-10T21:57:00.000-04:00

One of the 30 days of kink is to post a kinky song or video. For me, this song was the first time I'd heard anything even remotely in tune with where my brain was as far as kink, considering it was 21 years ago. I first heard it when I was with a vanilla friend, so I couldn't react to it the way I would have liked to, but later on I went back and listened to it intently. I knew how much Madonna pushed the envelope when it came to sexuality, so it gave me a thrill, but at the time, being as repressed as I was, I didn't allow it to guide me to look for actual real life people around me who might be into spanking.

A Kinky activity I'd like to try

2011-06-03T21:31:00.000-04:00

I have once again run out of ideas for blog posts, so going back to the 30 days of kink plan. This one I've been kicking around for a while. Post a BDSM/kink activity you’re curious about and would like to try.

That's definitely ageplay. I've done some superficial play, some on the phone, and one roleplay scene that wasn't as deep as I might have wanted it, because the age difference wasn't stressed all that much. I'd like to explore it more fully, because the one scene I did on the phone was so amazing that it made me cry by the end of it. I want to do that in person, to feel the safety and fulfillment that only physical proximity can give. My childhood didn't offer the kind of safety a girl is supposed to feel with her father, which may be why I want to experience a scene with somebody who is comfortable with playing Daddy or uncle, even to a teenage me. If possible I'd like a chance to play younger, but it's not essential. It's the feelings that an ageplay scene can evoke more than wanting to be a little girl. I've fantasized about both kinds, so either would work for me. I know what a good Daddy is supposed to be like, even if I've never actually experienced that in real life. I want to experience it, I want to feel safe in Daddy's arms after I've been spanked and forgiven. I could get into just how bad things were in my childhood, that I never experienced the second part of that, and never knew that it was supposed to be part of the equation. That you NEED to be forgiven afterwards, because if you aren't, then you just start believing that you really are a bad girl. It took years to unlearn that, but I succeeded, and now that I'm a whole, strong, confident woman in my own right, I want to have the second part of the equation. I want a loving Daddy or uncle to spank me because it's what's best for me in whatever situation we decide to roleplay, and then to forgive me and tell me I'm a good girl again. To hug me and make me feel like even though I misbehaved, it doesn't make me a bad girl forever, just until I've been punished.

I do like the idea of playing at being a little girl at least once, to just let go of all the grown up parts of my psyche that I've acquired over the past four decades. To trust somebody enough to know that they would keep me safe, even if it includes a very red, very sore bare bottom. I've talked about it, but haven't had the ability to actually live it yet. One day I'm going to, it just might take a little time to work out the logistics.

The sound of a voice

2011-05-29T00:27:00.000-04:00

I know it's not just me, it's probably all of us who get spanked, the sound of our spanker scolding us, or telling us what they're going to do to us makes our knees go weak. For those of us who don't live near the person who spanks us, we normally have to be content with hearing those things on the phone. I came up with a solution for in between phone calls or between times we see each other, to bring that squirminess back. It started as a way to try to make me do what I was supposed to do when I was having a problem sticking to a goal. I had wanted him to do it years ago, but that would have meant recording it with a tape recorder, and he didn't have one at the time. It would've sounded like he was talking on the phone, which wouldn't have been as good. As it was, things didn't work out until a year ago or so, when he could record things right onto his computer and then send the files to me in emails. I have a whole list of them now, all on my iPod, to listen to whenever I want. They're short audio clips of him threatening me, telling me what a bad girl I've been, in that voice of his, and a whole variety of other wonderfully squirmy things. It's amazing what the sound of his voice in my ear does to me, especially since the sound quality makes it sound like he's right HERE. It can make me melt when I'm in the right mood, and can make me feel like a bad girl who's about to get a very hard spanking any minute, even though I know it won't happen right then. I can almost see the look that must have been on his face as he recorded them. The raised eyebrow, the look over his glasses, the set of his jaw when he stresses a point that he wants to make VERY clear. I've seen those looks often enough when we're in the same place that they're burned into my brain.

The sound of a voice is an amazing thing. It evokes so many emotions, especially when connected to our kink. Lovely, threatening, squirm-inducing words, and if you work it right, you can have them any time you want!

In addition to that last post

2011-05-26T22:08:00.000-04:00

There are times when I want to go on Facebook and write a post telling the world about the fact that I'm kinky, but I can't. I have relatives on my Friend list, and people I work with, and friends I grew up with on there. I fear their reactions, which I shouldn't have to, but that's the way the world is. We still hide who we are, because of how people might react. I've already been shunned by friends because of it, and I couldn't handle it if people I actually care about turned their backs on me. It shouldn't be like this, but it is, and I don't see it changing any time soon. Too many people have the wrong idea about us, and I fear that people I love think that way. I don't know, because I can't ask. I can't risk that kind of exposure. Most of my relatives are very pro-gay lifestyle, even pro marriage equality, but I bet they aren't pro kink lifestyle, and that sucks.

For lack of other muses, another 30 days of kink topic

2011-05-26T21:52:00.001-04:00

This caught my eye when I was looking at the 30 day list again. What misconception about kinky people would you most like to clear up? I think that we're sick and twisted, that something had to have happened when we were children to "make us want to be hit or want to hit people". Some people think of us almost on the level of pedophiles. They don't realize that we want to do things with other consenting adults, and of the ones who DO know that, they still think that nobody "normal" should want what we want. I had a psychologist tell me that even if he didn't remember it, that something must have happened in my Top's life to make him want to spank women. I know for a fact that nothing did, it's just how he's wired. I, on the other hand, am kinky in SPITE of what happened in my childhood. If you use that psychologist's reasoning, I should want to be a Top to make up for what happened when I was a kid. Instead, I've taken ownership of what happened, and because I'm wired the way I am, it hasn't turned me into some psychotic person who wants revenge. Being spanked makes me feel that I can be who I should be. Confident, extroverted, willing to meet new people and do new things. Back before I admitted that I was kinky, before I got online, even while I was married I was very repressed. I would avoid talking about sex, because to me, sex was tied to being spanked, and I couldn't admit that to anybody I had bought into that "You're sick and twisted if you want to be spanked" mentality, and it made me shy and so introverted that I'm surprised I was even able to get married. I told my then husband about wanting to be spanked, but it turned out that he was so vanilla that he lacked an imagination when it came to sex. He halfheartedly tried to spank me, but he had no will of his own, and Topping from the bottom through the whole thing took the joy out of it for me. I knew he didn't want to do it, and couldn't give me what I wanted, so I stopped asking. He thought it was weird, because he had been taught that "men shouldn't hit women". No matter how often I told him that it wasn't like that, I couldn't change that attitude. Because of how he thought, I didn't feel comfortable about what I wanted and needed, and tried to suppress it except for fantasizing during sex. After we separated, I was right at the point where I was going to give it up because I thought that if I didn't want to be spanked anymore I would be "normal" and like everybody else, that I would be cured of this dark thing inside me. Then I got online and found the newsgroup, and for the first time in my life I realized that the people who wanted to be spanked/wanted to spank were people you would never guess were into it, because they were just like everybody else. They weren't sick and twisted, weren't so perverted that they couldn't live normal lives AND be into spanking. I realized that I was like them, that I could have a normal life AND be spanked. It made me feel normal for the first time in my life. I had been liberated, and it changed my life.

I want people who aren't kinky to know what I found out that day 13 years ago. That being who you're born to be is a good thing, even if it means you want to be spanked, or want to spank somebody. We aren't some sick and twisted subculture of people who need to be kept underground so that the kids don't find out and want to emulate us. There are people who think that way, and if they could realize that our fantasies and needs are just as valid and normal as theirs are, we could all live together without those of us who are kinky having to look over our shoulder wondering who knows about us, and what could happen to our lives if anybody did.

Another lucky day

2011-05-22T18:10:00.000-04:00

It happens so rarely, everybody leaves and I get an hour or so to myself. I went months the last time before everybody decided to leave at the same time. Now that the weather's better it might happen more often. I can hope anyway. Today it happened, and I didn't even know until just beforehand, so it was a very nice surprise. I had to stop myself from acting giddy as they got ready to go, because lately I've been in desperate need of a spanking (or four!). I can't let them know WHY I want them to leave, and I definitely can't act like I'm trying to push them out the door faster, even if I'd like to.

I started with the belt, because as much as I'd like to start out with my new toy (I still have no idea what it actually is, so I don't know what to call it), it's a little drastic to use cold. The first time I tried, and I almost bailed on the entire spanking! After the belt I went with the hairbrush for a while, then the bathbrush and the backscratcher. THEN I went with the new toy, and it was easier to take some harder strokes with it. My shoulder doesn't last very long these days, so I take breaks more often, but I get the job done when I have enough time. Today I got enough time, and it was very nice. I got myself to the point where it hurt to sit on a hard chair. That never lasts a long enough time, but I love it for as long as it does.

I love to check my bottom in the mirror to check on the progress, and see if there are marks and how red it is. I got decent color today, though I knew it wouldn't last for more than half a day, which is always a bummer. After everybody was home I checked again a couple hours later, and I have a couple superficial type bruises. At least those will last a couple days, I hope!

Sting vs. Thud

2011-05-19T22:07:00.000-04:00

On Twitter we've been discussing the whole Sting or Thud problem. It's a problem for me only because I love to be spanked, and how isn't usually an issue. My loves are anything leather, or the heavy cane. Lovely thudiness, and I can't get enough. Anything wood, on the other hand, and yikes, I'm done pretty fast. That bugs me, because I love it when spankings can last a long time, and especially with the hairbrush, it just can't. The paddle too. I don't last very long at all with any of my paddles, and I have too many! If I'm being punished, then nine times out of ten I get spanked with something wooden, unless it's a very fast, very hard belt spanking. Maybe that's part of the reason I don't like sting, because I associate it with punishment. It's very effective, pushing me over the edge without a lot of effort. For play I like a little of everything, as long as my favorite toys get used more. I like marks and bruises, and the longer I can play, the more that happens. Fast and effective might work for punishment, but in general, long term play is the goal!

Something I've always wanted to do

2011-05-14T18:28:00.000-04:00

I'm not a professional photographer or anything, can use my digital camera, but I don't know all the ins and outs of taking pictures. Even so, I've always wanted to take pictures of what we do. I mean erotic type pics, very sensual, romantic types of pictures, showing the side of what we do that isn't seen by anyone but us. Once at a party, a friend had just spanked his wife, and she was sitting on his lap, her bottom all red, but you could see the love between them. I so wanted a picture of that. Maybe to convey to the rest of the world what it is that we love about what we do, and the intimacy involved without sex even needing to be included. The thing is, if I were to do it, I'm thinking that the only way to show them would be online. I doubt you could get those kinds of pictures into a gallery to show to the public, at least not without a lot of drama involved. I'd also need a better camera! The one I have is an old 3 megapixel, and I'd want one with a lot better capability than that for this. I'd want some of them to be black and white too, because I want to show the emotion involved as much as anything else. Would it be feasible though? Too many people still think that what we do is some evil, abusive thing. We know better, but the right pictures could possibly change their minds.

Spanking thoughts

2011-05-14T18:11:00.000-04:00

What with the Blogger outage the other day, and total chaos in the personal realm during the week, writing a new blog post was not on the radar. Amidst the chaos though, little things have been poking at my mind, making me drift into thinking about being spanked. Thoughts of having my bottom bared, being pushed face down on the bed to be spanked unmercifully. Being scolded during the spanking, and having to promise to be a good girl before the spanking will end. Knowing that even after the spanking that it will stay with me for a while, he never leaves my bottom wanting. I can always feel it every time I sit down or accidentally back into something for a day or two afterward, sometimes longer. Wishing I could have all that right now, but using it to fuel my fantasies in the meantime.

When did you discover you were kinky?

2011-05-08T09:31:00.001-04:00

This is another of the 30 Days of Kink topics, and it got me thinking. I've always known there was something different about me. The problem is, I'm older and didn't have real access to the internet until I was in my 30's. It was the '90's, and this wondrous thing called the internet was starting to open up the world to us. Until then, at least when I a teenager, and in my early 20's, I thought that there was something wrong with me, because people around me didn't think the things I did, or do the things I did. I remember being four years old and watching the Little Rascals on tv, HOPING for one of the films where one or more of the kids got spanked. I didn't know why, I just knew that watching those movies gave me this weird feeling inside, and it was good. Back then I didn't think there was anything wrong with me, that came later. I just knew it was something to keep to myself. In one movie, one of the kids put a book down the back of their pants because they knew they were going to get spanked, and I decided I had to try that. The feeling of that hardcover Little Golden book against my bare bottom gave me a thrill like nothing else had ever done. I did it in secret whenever I could, and it was great. This is how I know I'm hard-wired for being a spanko, because it started so early and so definitively. I looked up the word spanking in the dictionary, at school and at home. Before the age of ten I convinced friends to play a version of house which included spanking. I fantasized about spanking from an early age. If I had grown up in the internet age, I would've always known I was kinky, and I would've had a much better image of myself because I would've known that there were all those other people out there who felt the same way. As it was, when I was 34, I found my first newsgroup, and suddenly realized that all these other people had the same thoughts and feelings as I did, and that the same things that turned them on turned me on. It was a liberating moment for me. I envy kids now, because they can learn so much earlier that what they do isn't sick and twisted, even as much as we still have to hide what we do. They can still find all this stuff online to let them know they're not alone.

Do I need new fantasies?

2011-05-07T20:51:00.000-04:00

I've been thinking about it. My spanking mojo has kicked back in this month after a really ghastly April. Because of time constraints, or falling asleep before I'd intended to, I haven't had a chance to take advantage of fantasizing that much so far, but I'm getting working on that. I have fantasies that tend to work, but lately I keep having to ratchet things up to push myself over the edge. I'd love some new ones, but where the hell do you go to get new fantasies? If there was a website or something with categories of fantasies, and you could read through the ideas to find one that got you all hot and bothered, that would be great. I could comb through a bunch of old stories to find some I suppose, not mine but other people's. I know all mine, they branch out from my old fantasies.

The other choice is to rework my old fantasies, recreating those things that have always worked for me. Maybe I'm unique, but sex fantasies don't work for me. Punishment fantasies do. No matter what age I'm supposed to be in the fantasy, it works. Little girl, teenage, adult, as long as I'm being punished for something, I get where I need to go with them. Thinking about somebody else getting it works too, but again, always punishment, with no sex involved. Maybe it's because that's how my fantasizing started. As a little girl, and I mean before the age of ten, telling myself stories about other kids getting spanked. I never progressed to actual sex fantasies, it's always just been wired to spanking. Some get dark, some go over the top, but if I haven't masturbated in ages, I don't even get very far into the fantasy before I'm done. It's when I've been doing it a lot that the old fantasies get too old, too overdone, and need to be ratcheted up to higher and higher levels. When you fall asleep in the middle, you know it's taking too long! That's when I start thinking I need new fantasies, new thrills to take me to new and better heights faster than the old stuff.

Pictures get my imagination going a lot. I know, they say that men are the visually stimulated gender. Bull. Just seeing a bare bottom, especially if it's been spanked, in a picture or in person, does it for me. I think I need some new pictures. I've seen all the ones I have, over and over. Hell, I even have pictures of MY bare bottom after spankings. I seem to always get the same pictures when I go online, so even that's getting old. It's difficult to come up with new stories for the same old pictures. I try, I really do!

So what to do? New or old?

Another 30 Days of Kink post

2011-05-07T16:22:00.000-04:00

I've looked over the list of ideas for posts, and I just don't seem to have anything to say about some of them. My experiences are limited in some ways, not having a person here to spank me all the time. But this one idea did stand out for me. What are the most difficult aspects of having a sexuality that involves kink or BDSM for you personally? I think the most difficult part is having to hide so much about who I really am. I'm not talking about telling people I know everything I do. Most vanilla people can make comments that have nothing to do with their personal situation and nobody thinks twice about it. If I were to make a spanking comment that had nothing to do with my situation, but was just a general comment, there are a lot of people who would think differently about me. When I first got online and my mom found out and didn't hate me for it, I thought that it would be okay if some of my friends knew. Well, some of them were totally cool with it, and it didn't affect how they thought about me, but one older friend, who treated me like her own daughter and who I THOUGHT loved me unconditionally, turned her back on me. Even knowing that I'd been that way since before she'd known me, which was since I was six years old, didn't help the situation. It was difficult getting over being shunned, but it taught me that not everyone could know who I really am. Relatives don't know, that's much too risky. If I was a lesbian I could tell most, if not all the people I know, and it would be okay. Kink, on the other hand, still has to be hidden for the most part. I'm on Facebook and Twitter, but I can't go on Twitter under my own name because then relatives and people from work would be able to find me. I use Twitter for the kink side of my life. Not ONLY for that, but I can't mention any of it on Facebook. It's like the two parts of me can never come together, except in very specific company. I love the times when I can get together with people of a like mind, and feel free to talk about toys and spanking positions and how I love it when it hurts to sit after a spanking. Most of the time I have to be the vanilla version of myself, and that's okay, but it's not the whole me. The times I can let loose and not worry about everything I say are some of my favorite times. For me, that's the most difficult part of having this kink.

Got spanked!

2011-05-05T18:20:00.000-04:00

Everybody left for a while, so I got to actually do some spanking for the first time in a while. Over a month since it happened the last time. My new toy is still evil and with all the weight I've been losing, I definitely need a warm up before I can really use it the way I like. I even found my rubber ruler, which I hadn't seen in months. Only used the hairbrush a little, was more inclined to use the belt. Wood is evil, leather is good! I got a good half an hour of spanking in, so I should be good for a while.

I have some nice marks from the new toy. Nice raised lines to look at for a day. I doubt they'll last longer than later today, but who knows with less weight back there? LOL

Some of my stories

2011-05-03T20:51:00.000-04:00

Since Google has seen fit to get rid of almost all the old SSS posts, most of my stories have been relegated to my own computer, but I do have some longer ones online at Literotica. I like watching the numbers go up, so I figured I'd post the links to them here.

A Fantasy
Coming Out
Submitting to Him
The Other Side of Cinderella

In case you want info on 30 Days of Kink

2011-05-03T20:04:00.001-04:00

I read it on the girl's blog, and seeing as I have so little real life experiences to write about lately, it seemed like a way to get a lot of blog posts in a short amount of time.

Dom, sub, or Switch?

2011-05-03T19:58:00.000-04:00

Because of my lack of a spanking life at the moment, I have a definite lack of posts. So, when I came across the 30 Days of Kink idea, it seemed like a way to generate a bunch of posts. I'll have to write a couple posts a day to catch up!

I'm not actually any of the three in the title. I'm a Bottom. At least 95%. I've had Top-ish fantasies over the years, but the thought doesn't last long enough for me to consider actually topping anybody. It's the reason I'm also not a switch. The Top fantasies have only flared a few times over the twelve years that I've been in the scene, and that wouldn't be fair to somebody I was in a relationship with. It would give them absolutely no chance to get spanked unless we went to parties and they could get spanked by somebody else. I did promise a friend years ago (Hi Helen!) that if we ever met in real life that I would top her, but I don't see me doing it on a regular basis. I will delight in spanking her, because I know how much she wants and needs it, not because I'm so into it that it's a major turn on for me. I do like to see a red bare bottom though, so that part will be a bonus. : )

Early on in my journey to who I am now, I considered being a sub. I occasionally have some submissive tendencies, but only with the friend who tops me. He gets me to the place where I want to do whatever he wants or needs. It never lasts all that long, but it's nice for a limited time. I don't like being locked into rules about my kink. I may decide to play at being submissive in a scene, but it's not who I am on a regular basis. I do understand what a gift submission is for the Dominant. For someone to trust another person enough to offer themselves, body and soul, to be controlled as the Dominant sees fit, is to make yourself completely vulnerable. I can do that, and have, but again, on a limited basis. I doubt I could ever be a Domme. I'm such a control freak that being a Bottom is my chance to give up all of that. For me, being a Domme AND a control freak could be a dangerous mix!

I completely understand why other people are subs or Doms or switches. The variations of our kink are diverse and wonderful. When I first came onto the scene I had no idea how many different ways there were to indulge in what we do, but that was over a decade ago, and I have become friends with people who encompass almost all of them. I can be who I am with my kink friends without wondering if they think I'm weird for wanting to be spanked, and they don't have to worry about me thinking that they're weird for wanting to spank somebody, or to be controlled by somebody.

Getting desperate

2011-03-15T19:51:00.001-04:00

Last Saturday morning, everybody was supposed to leave the house, and I was going to have a couple hours or so by myself. I was going to get some self spanking time for the first time in a couple months. I'm not used to having to go so long with NO chance of time to myself to get any spanking in, so I was very happy thinking about what I would do during the free time. Of course, when Saturday came, the plans fell through, so I was left with my hopes dashed again. I know how iffy things are, things don't always go the way they're supposed to, but I thought for sure that this time it would finally happen. It took a few hours to get over not being able to have what I need to be me, but I dealt with it. I REALLY need to find a way to get some spanking in, even if I have to do it myself. I don't mind that, I did it before I ever got online, because I didn't know that anybody else was into it. Optimum situation is to BE spanked, but I'll take what I can get, believe me. I just need everybody to leave the house at the same time. It's starting to look like that's never going to happen, and I can't handle that thought.

A Spanko Vampire story

2011-03-10T23:36:00.000-05:00

I started this years ago, and then didn't know where it was going, so I drifted away from it. It has potential. Spanko vampires, such an untapped market! If there's interest, maybe I'll see what I can do to continue it and eventually finish it.
---------------------------

True Nature

The moonlight illuminated Vanessa’s body as she lay on the bed, her skin so pale that it seemed to absorb the moonlight that streamed in through the window. Gerard watched her as she stretched, cat-like, readying herself for the coming night. The room was dark except for the light streaming in through the window, but he saw everything in sharp detail. He had not needed lights to see by in decades, so they rarely used more than candlelight in the house. He watched his wife as she lay still sprawled on the bed.

“I need a spanking,” she said, just short of whining. She looked at him imploringly.

“Soon, my love,” Gerard soothed, “You know it won’t be any good at all until after we’ve fed. I would think you’d be more patient after so many years. We both know that although our need for spanking is still as strong in us as it ever was, the need for blood is just that much stronger. Were I to spank you now, there would be no marks, no blush of your cheeks as I paddle you. There would be nothing to show for it, so you must wait, as always.”

Vanessa pouted. She knew that she must wait, for the blood to course through her veins once again, to feel the warmth that meant she could have what she truly wanted, a hot throbbing bottom, no matter how short-lived the effects. When she awoke the next night, the feeling would be gone, though the memory of the sweet pain would linger in her mind. That was what she existed for, not the blood, that was but a means to an end. She longed for what the blood gave her, the feeling of being wonderfully and completely spanked. Along with what feeding gave her personally, it also gave Gerard the ability to spank her for long lovely hours without tiring. A smile slowly spread across her face as she thought of it.

She dressed hurriedly, wanting to be done with the necessary unpleasantness as quickly as possible. It was seductive as it happened, as the blood flowed into her, but she had never lusted after it the way she thought she probably should. Gerard was only slightly more taken with it than she, it had been he who had been created first, and then she had been taken by him.

Gerard led the way, as he always did. The need for blood was always strongest in him, and he knew the right places to go where they could avoid detection. He could sense who was expendable, those who wouldn't be missed and wouldn't arouse suspicion by their absence. They'd managed never to be detected as a source of the deaths; no one even knew they existed. They lived a solitary existence, without the company of others, even their own kind. He pulled her along through the dark streets and alleys as if he were a bloodhound hot on the scent of his quarry.

He spotted the first after only a few minutes, a young woman, little more than a girl really, with blonde hair and a too short skirt. Without the thick coating of makeup she might have been pretty, but it only succeeded in making her look tired and shabby. He left Vanessa waiting in an unlit doorway, and slid up beside the lone girl. Even up close he couldn't discern her true age, she looked as though she had been standing in that same spot, in the same clothes, for years. He felt compassion and bloodlust and power all at once. He knew he would be helping her by taking her out of her wretched life.

"Hello, little one," he said as he appeared beside her, "You look tired."

"Damn right I am," she said, an edge to her voice. "I've been standing here for an hour with no action!"

He took her hand and turned her so that she faced him. "You don't want to be here doing this, do you," he said softly, a statement more than a question.

The hard look in her eyes faltered and then vanished. "I don't have a choice. I don't have anywhere else to go, and if I don't make my quota tonight, Tony'll have my head." Her answer was just above a whisper at the end.

Gerard stroked her hair. "I can take you out of this, if you want. Take the hurt and loneliness away for you. Do you want me to do that?"

"Will it hurt," she asked, afraid suddenly.

"Only for a moment, little one, then it will be over," he promised.

She looked hesitant for a brief moment, but then he could tell that she had decided. He held out his hand, and she placed hers in it willingly. He led her to a dark corner of the alley, where none but Vanessa would ever see, and with a gentleness he knew she most likely hadn't known in years, he sank his teeth into her soft throat.

erard's senses were heightened by the rush of blood into his body. The girl whimpered slightly, but did not struggle against the pain, or the knowledge that her life was ending. Just before she died, Gerard forced himself to pull away, to watch as she faded. With the last of her strength and breath, she managed to whisper a grateful thank you, and then she was dead. Gerard felt no remorse; he'd kept his promise and had taken her out of her miserable existence. He laid her gently in a dark doorway, where she most likely wouldn't be found for days. He knew that no one cared for these girls, and there would never be an investigation into how she died. They would read in the paper at some point that another prostitute had died from a drug overdose or some such thing. The authorities always mistook the wounds made by their teeth as needle marks, and chalked up the death to their hard life.

Vanessa watched as Gerard crossed back over to her. She realized that she was breathing heavily, which always happened when she watched him seduce a girl or a woman and then feed. She knew it was now her turn and she hoped it would be as easy for her as it always seemed to be for Gerard.

They found her a mile or so away; they never fed too close together. Vanessa knew as soon as she saw the woman that she needed to be rescued. She was older than Gerard's find, early twenties possibly, but looking decades older. Vanessa could see the fresh bruises on her face even under the garish makeup.

    Vanessa had always been less forward in her hunting than Gerard. She watched at first, waiting for the right time to approach. The young woman paced as cars slowed but didn't stop. Vanessa made her way slowly to where the woman stood, and she noticed that up close the weariness she saw from afar was much more pronounced. Still, she almost had second thoughts about going ahead with this conquest. She had no qualms over killing so that she could feed; it was just that there were occasions when certain victims evoked an empathetic feeling in her. She knew though, that it was inevitable. The young woman would suffer an early death whether it was to replenish a needful creature such as herself, or senselessly by the hand of an angry customer.

    She drew up beside the woman, who started at the sudden closeness. Vanessa touched the woman, who drew back in fear. She opened her mouth to scream, but Vanessa placed a finger on the woman's lips, who then stood silently trembling. Vanessa brushed the woman's dark hair away from her face, and led her to the alley. Once there, in a spot where she knew no human eyes could see her, she placed her face very close to the young woman's.

    “Don’t be afraid,” she whispered, “I’m here to help, even though it may not seem that way. You need out of this dreadful life of yours, and I need to feed. That way we both get what we need, yes?”

The woman closed her eyes for a second, and then opened them to stare into Vanessa’s own. “Yes,” she said, in a whisper as quiet as Vanessa’s. She rested her head on Vanessa’s shoulder, in complete surrender.

Vanessa’s teeth pierced the tender flesh, and she became infused with life and blood and adrenaline. She felt the still beating heart in the neck, and against her own body, as she drained everything she needed from the woman. When she was finished, she laid the body in a mostly natural state, and went back to join Gerard.

“I don’t want to waste a moment of what I’m feeling,” she said, “let’s go back right now so that you can spank me for the rest of the night!”

Gerard laughed at her exuberance. She was always like this when she was aglow with the blood, and he wasn’t about to deny her. He got as much enjoyment out of spanking her as she did from being spanked, even though sex no longer had anything to do with their needs. She reveled in the pain, and he reveled in the sensations of feeling her skin change temperature and watching it change color, along with watching her reactions. They would once again be the way they had always been, even in life, submissive and Dominant, Bottom and Top, two halves of a whole. He followed her back to the house.

Once there, Vanessa became a whirlwind of activity, retrieving the implements she wanted him to use on her, which was every one they owned. Gerard stood back and watched. He still loved everything about her, the way she moved, spoke, and writhed beneath the strap or his hand. All of it was magic to him, even after all the decades they’d had together since the change. He planned to continue spanking her for the rest of forever, not being able to imagine a time when he might tire of this way of having to live, the hiding and the feeding. It was what gave him all of eternity to do what he loved, to spank his lovely Vanessa.

When she stood before him, looking eagerly into his eyes, he drew her slowly to the bed, where he stripped her. Naked, and pink once again, she was a true sight of beauty to him. He caressed her warmth, his fingers growing hungry for her. He drew her slowly across his lap, and she seemed to melt into position. His hands stroked her body, paying special attention to her bottom. He rubbed and stroked until he knew the time had come to start the spanking. The first slap was almost gentle, not even jarring her out of her reverie. He continued, bringing the color up just slightly in her cheeks. He wanted this spanking to last, allowing him to spank, paddle, strap, and possibly even cane his love.

When her bottom was a bright pink color, Gerard stopped the spanking just long enough to right her and take up the thin paddle. He bent her over the bed and slapped the paddle down hard. Vanessa’s back arched, but she didn’t utter a sound. Gerard knew she loved the feel of the paddle against her skin, even as hard as he always spanked her. When they were young he had been surprised at how much she could take, everything he could give and then some, but now his abilities matched her need. He could spank her so much longer now than he could when they were mortal, there was almost no comparison.

Vanessa allowed herself to hold onto the pain of the spanking, instead of fighting it. She loved every smack, and the sting was lovely. When she felt him stop, she wondered what he would use next. She hoped it would be the belt, and wriggled happily when she felt the leather slap her bare skin. The heat was already spreading through her whole body, making her feel the way she had before she’d been changed. The thud went deeply into her, the way the sting of the paddle never could. She raised her bottom to meet the belt’s every descent, wanting all that it could give. The belt was one of her favorite implements, and she always wanted Gerard to spank her as long as possible with it. She felt the old rush, the endorphins from the new blood kicking in. This was what she craved, more than feeding, more than anything else. It went on for hours. She could take so much more now that she was immortal, and she knew that Gerard was up to the task

Gerard was enthralled with the sight of Vanessa’s red bottom. He wanted to spend the rest of the night fondling it, feeling the heat, but it hadn’t attained perfection quite yet. He took up the cane, the heavy one Vanessa loved, to put the finishing touches on an already wonderful night of true passion. He took her hand and led her, helping her to lay flat on the bed, where he knew that she would need to be once the caning had its affect on her. She reacted to the cane differently than any other implement they owned, and Gerard knew that standing and bending over wasn’t the right position for her. He watched as she put the pillow under her head so that she could relax while he caned her, and then he took his position standing next to the bed. He brought the cane down hard, right across both cheeks, and he watched as they contracted tightly while she processed the pain. When her bottom relaxed again completely, he knew she was ready for the next stroke, but he wanted to watch the first stripe develop. It was a striking dark red line compared to the uniform color of the rest of her bottom. He landed the second stroke just under the first, and Vanessa reacted the same as the first time. He had wondered, back when they were still mortal, how she could take such a hard caning without making any noise whatsoever. Her reaction always amazed him.

Vanessa lay with her eyes closed, drinking in the pain of the strokes. This was pure bliss to her. She rode the pain of each stroke as it came, relaxing as it changed from pain to pleasure, letting it wash over her. She could feel herself letting go, soaring to heights normally unattainable. There was no room, no bed, just each stroke with its accompanying pain and pleasure. Stroke after stroke blossomed deep inside her, to explode into something wonderful that she could never quite explain. All she knew was that she was in a perfect place, where pain was pure bliss. She had no idea how many strokes landed, or how long Gerard caned her. Time had ceased to exist.

Gerard only stopped when Vanessa’s entire bottom was a complete mass of lines. No flesh was untouched by the cane. He knew that she’d love how it looked when she came back down to earth, but right now it was he who enjoyed the sight of it. He’d caned her for an hour, and from the look of her he could tell it would take at least that long for her to return to her senses. He climbed up on the bed beside her and laid his cheek against her hot flesh. He gloried in the feel of it. He ran his finger along each cane stripe and she purred. He stroked her all over, and held her as she came down from that special place of perfect peace.

Vanessa felt so wonderful that she didn’t want to come back to reality. She was completely relaxed and felt like she was floating. She looked at Gerard through pleasure-fogged eyes, thinking how much she loved him at that moment. He always gave her what she wanted, what she needed. He was wonderful to her. He’d been like that even when they’d been mortal.

“Gerard, how did we ever get along before we were changed,” she asked dreamily, “We can do so much more now. Why did I ever hesitate when you asked me to follow you into this?”

Gerard chuckled. She asked that question sometimes, even after all the years they’d led their solitary and unique existence. It made him remember all over again just what had started it all.

                                                   ******************

They had met in high school, and though not love at first sight, they had fallen hard for each other. Dating all through junior and senior years, they had eventually discovered that they shared a unique desire.

It was late afternoon, and Gerard was trying to show Vanessa where she had gone wrong with a geometry problem.

“I’ll never get this,” Vanessa whined, throwing down her pencil.

“Yes you will,” Gerard said, “It’s just a matter of concentrating on it instead of assuming you can’t do it.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Vanessa said, “because I’m too STUPID to understand any of this anyway.”

“That is NOT true, Vanessa, and I don’t want to hear you talk like that about yourself. You’re smart; you’re just stuck on this one thing.”

“It IS true,” Vanessa said, crossing her arms over her chest stubbornly, “and I can’t do it. So there.”

“You’re skating on thin ice, I wouldn’t push it if I were you,” Gerard said.

“Oh, I’m so scared,” Vanessa said in mock terror, and stuck her tongue out at him.

Before she knew what was happening, Gerard grabbed her wrist and pulled her to him. In one motion, he pushed his chair out from the table and flipped her across his lap. He started raining spanks down on her skirt covered bottom. At first she was silent from the sheer shock of the situation, but then she started squealing at the sting building in her nether region. She was partly shocked, and partly amazed that he’d reached into her soul to know what she wanted and needed him to do. She’d fantasized about it since she’d been a little girl, and now it was really happening.

As Gerard spanked her, he couldn’t believe that it was really happening. He hadn’t planned it, but now that he was actually spanking her, he felt himself get hard. He’d always dreamed of spanking her, but that was in the deep recesses of his mind, not something that was supposed to actually happen. He spanked her until she stopped resisting him and just took the spanks, after which he stood her up in front of him. Both of them were breathing hard, but somehow they resisted the urge to progress any farther. He gave her a kiss on the cheek, and then they went back to studying, but things would never be the same between them again. They knew that they were meant to be together, that there was a strong bond between them. From then on they were inseparable.

They married while Gerard was still in college, and they reveled in the fact that they could finally indulge in their spanking pleasure without guilt. Vanessa had bloomed into a young woman of deep passion, and Gerard found great satisfaction in being able to push her even deeper. He spanked her lovingly; he spanked her rough, taking his cues from her reactions. Wonderful days and nights of Vanessa across Gerard’s lap, or bent over the couch, her round bottom being turned red and sore. It always ended in sex, whether slow and lingering, or hot and pounding.    The spanking was what they lived for. It was more than just something to keep their sex life charged; it was what gave them meaning. They wanted it to go on forever, though it almost ended sooner than they’d planned.

Gerard went walking alone one night, trying to think. The week before, he had learned that he had limited time left to live the way he wanted, before he would be rendered immobile, only to linger for years before finally dying a horrible death. For him it was a tragedy, but he couldn’t bring himself to do that to Vanessa, sentencing her to a life of servitude to a shell of himself. He desperately needed a solution to his problem.

As he walked through the mostly deserted streets, through white pools of streetlamp light, he considered his options, only to realize that there weren’t any. To avoid becoming a burden to Vanessa, he would either have to leave her or kill himself before his condition worsened considerably. Either way he would be without his only love, and Vanessa without hers. He couldn’t bear that, and he knew she couldn’t either. The same options also meant that an end to their life of spanking, which was also intolerable.

Suddenly he felt, more than saw, a movement near him. By the time he had turned in that direction, whatever had been there had vanished. Once again he caught a flutter of blackness just out of the corner of his eye, and started after it. It seemed to stay just beyond him in the darkness, and by the time he gave up the chase, he barely knew where he was any longer, having run well beyond familiar territory.

He walked the same route the next night, hoping to catch a glimpse of the apparition once again. He had not told Vanessa about what he had seen, fearing that she might think that his affliction had driven him mad. He had no idea why he felt the need to track down this “thing”; he only knew that he must.

He had almost given up the search when he saw it again. Just the faintest glint of black movement under a streetlight, seeming almost like butterfly wings with its speed. He could not understand how something could move that fast. Somehow he knew that it wasn’t human, but that it wasn’t animal either. He pursued it, curiosity winning out over fear.

“Please,” he called out, “stop so that I can talk to you! I don’t want to hurt you!”

At first Gerard feared that his words had frightened off the creature. He stood still, waiting, barely breathing. It seemed like ages, but was probably more like a few minutes only, when he felt someone behind him. He closed his eyes for just a moment, trying to keep his courage about him as the form slid up to him.

“You court danger rather cavalierly,” a female voice said. “You’re either very brave, or very foolish.”

“Neither,” Gerard whispered, “only desperate.”

“Do you know what I am,” the voice breathed onto his neck.

“No, I only sensed that you could be the answer I seek, though I don’t know how or why,” Gerard said, growing just a little braver.

“How could I be the answer if you do not know what it is that I am,” she asked quietly.

Gerard felt her fingers glide up his arm. He could sense danger, but he felt so lost that any new threat meant nothing.

“I’m doomed to die, whether now or in five years. Soon I won’t be able to live the life I love, and I’ll have to leave the woman I love more than anything in this world. It doesn’t matter what you are, as long as there is the slightest possibility that you can help me.”

The woman moved to face him. He could see that she was as white as snow. Not just pale, but completely devoid of color, almost translucent under the streetlight. Her dark hair was a sharp contrast to her skin, framing her face in soft curls. She looked into his eyes, and he saw depths before unimaginable in the bright green that flashed there. Her mouth opened slightly, and then he saw what she was. He’d never seen teeth that sharp, almost poking her bottom lip at the corners of her mouth. His mind worked this information into his options, considering the possibilities. He wondered if it was worth it, to live forever, but at what cost? Did he even have the courage for it? If he did this, what would happen to Vanessa? So many questions ran through his mind. He didn’t know what to say first.

“Tell me what you want,” she said, leaning forward to whisper it into his ear.

“I don’t know yet, “Gerard said, “There are so many things to think about. If I become like you, would I be healed? Would I still be who I am? Would I be able to live the way I want, the way I need to?”

“One thing at a time,” she said, resting a hand on his arm to quiet him. “Yes, you would be healed. You would not quite be who you are now; you would be so much more. Your senses would be heightened, and you would experience everything on a level you can not now imagine.”

“What about my wife,” Gerard asked, “I could never be this way if it meant leaving her. That is why I have been so desperate to find a way out of my problem. I need her.”

“You could both be changed, if that is what you wish. You could both have this new life, with time to do everything you ever dreamed. A thousand lifetimes worth if you are careful. You would never see a sunrise again, but that is a small price to pay to live forever.”

Gerard thought about this. Nothing was more important than remaining with Vanessa, living as they always had, loving each other forever.

“What about what you do to stay alive, do you ever………,” he couldn’t finish the thought.

“Yes, you get used to it, you have no choice. When you realize that it is the only way you can stay alive, you do what you must,” she said. “I can tell that you have a big decision to make. If you decide to do this, come to this same place again in two nights, and I will be here.”

“Thank you. I will talk to my wife and we will decide if this is what we truly want. I cannot see any other way.”

“Two nights. Think long and hard, for it isn’t an easy life at times.”

With that, she was gone. He had barely seen the movement, it was that fast. He wondered how she did it. Perplexed, he walked home, wondering how to approach the subject with Vanessa.

Fulfilling vs. Frustrating Spanking Dreams

2011-03-03T22:22:00.001-05:00

We've all had them. There are the wonderful "Oh, I'm going to get/I'm getting spanked" dreams. No, you can't feel anything in dreams, but your mind fills in the gaps because you know how it works in reality. Wonderful sexy dreams, making you very happy and satisfied. Then there are the frustrating ones. The "I'm about to be spanked so why the hell is everything and everybody interrupting the proceedings" kind. No matter what you do in the dream, you can't make it happen, and just when you think you've rid the place of all distractions and annoyances, you WAKE UP! ARRGH! I hate when that happens. I so rarely get the fulfilling kind of spanking dream. The last one I had, not all that long ago, I was actually doing the spanking, which was odd, because I've never actually spanked anyone before. It just felt good to be involved in a spanking finally, even in a dream, that it made me happy.

I was wondering something. I know that Tops have these dreams too, it's not exclusive to those of us who get spanked. Do Tops have the frustrating kind of dreams as often? Are you so focused on what you know should happen that you make it happen most of the time, or is it out of your control too? Is it worse for Switches because you've experienced these situations from both sides? Does it matter if you live apart from the person you normally spank/are spanked by, or if you live with them? Are the frustrating dreams more prevalent if you aren't in a relationship and aren't spanking anybody/being spanked by anybody? Are the frustrating dreams more common if you live so far away from the other person that you rarely get to see each other? I haven't been spanked in so long that I'm just happy when my brain proves that it can still conjure up situations where I can get spanked!

Spanking poetry

2011-02-24T21:23:00.000-05:00

It doesn't happen often, but I've written a few. If I really sat and thought about it, I could probably write a whole book of them. I wonder if they'd sell? Anyway, this is one I wrote years ago, but it's not like I can show it to anybody who would read my vanilla poetry.

Surrender

You've reduced me once again
to that helpless malleable state,
Willing to do what you say,
Wanting to please you,
To submit to you completely.

Your power is evident
in your eyes, your tone,
Your manner,
The touch of the paddle
is almost secondary,
But provides the impetus
which pushes me over the edge,
To that state of mind
where you lead,
And I follow.

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

This one isn't so much about the physical act, as about the mindset behind it. I'm not into the whole D/s thing, but after I've been punished, this explains what I become. I so want to do whatever he says afterward, and to do things for him. I want to be a good girl, to show him that the spanking did what it was designed to do. It never lasts more than a couple hours of course, but it's definitely there.

I know G. would like it to last much longer, but hey, we can't have everything, right?

On Embarrassment

2011-02-17T21:48:00.000-05:00

Those in the spanking scene who really know me, also know that it's next to impossible to embarrass me. In a play scene, anything goes. Being bared for a spanking in front of people I don't know has no impact on me at parties. Play mode is great, I can do anything, handle anything, and it amazes people that I have no fear. Friends have taken it as a challenge to find something that would embarrass me. Doesn't work in play mode.

But then there's punishment mode. It's a very intense mindset for me. To know that G. is going to punish me because I've decided not to do something he thinks I should. It's never anything trivial, he doesn't punish for imaginary things, and never for anything I would resent him for. There's almost nothing he would punish me for these days anyway, the rules I had in the beginning don't really exist anymore. He doesn't micromanage things either, so I don't have to worry about what I wear or who I talk to. These days it's mostly attitude, like if I go the brat route a little too long. I know he doesn't like it, but sometimes I'm in that mood where I want to be spanked, and not in a playful way. It's just how things go.

When I'm in this mindset, when I know I've pushed too far or disappointed him in some way (the latter doesn't happen these days but did in the early days), then it's possible for me to be embarrassed. Not only possible, but pretty much automatic. I think it has to do with the fact that when I'm in that mindset, I'm completely vulnerable emotionally. It clicks into a totally different part of my being. If he were to tell me, while I'm in that mindset, that he was going to spank me in front of anybody else, the level of embarrassment would be very high. In punishment situations I don't have control over ANYTHING, including when my pants come down. Knowing that I would be bared in front of anybody else, who would know I was being punished and not just spanked for the heck of it, would make me cringe almost visibly. Just the idea of it sends that panic feeling through me.

Of course, this means that some of my fantasies involve some sort of embarrassment in those situations. The idea of anything like that happening is hot. How can it not be? The thrill/panic of being seen, or of being made to do something embarrassing in a partially nude state. Fuel for the fire, as it were. So most of me wants it to never ever happen in reality, but there's that little part of me that wants it. Wants things to happen that I have no control over, to have my pants and panties pulled down with other people in the room, knowing that this isn't a play scene, that it's for real, a real spanking that will make me cry. That's the other thing. I only cry during punishment spankings. I can get spanked all day in play mode, and it will never effect me emotionally. I know, I've done it. But let G. decide that he needs to take me in hand for some reason, and the power he has, that nobody else knows about, comes out. Very soon I end up a blubbering mess. It wouldn't matter who else was in the room at the time, it's inevitable. To be reduced to that in front of witnesses, them seeing my bare red bottom and seeing how submissive and compliant I become, would make it difficult to face them again after it was all over. I don't want it to happen. It would be far too embarrassing, and they would know a part of me that only G. knows. That's too embarrassing, but too hot not to contemplate!

What do you do?

2011-02-06T01:14:00.000-05:00

There are those of us who don't live with the person who spanks us, and there are those who have a long distance spanker. That means that getting spanked doesn't happen very often, and we have to wait, sometimes for a long time, in between spankings. What makes things worse, is health or living situations make self spanking a rare thing. I've had to make due for months now, because the living situation here has changed so much that my old Saturday mornings by myself have disappeared. I could get as much self spanking in as I wanted because I had a few hours to myself, and it was great. That's nonexistent now, and the few times I've been able to get ANY self spanking in have been twenty minutes to an hour here and there, but nothing at all for over a month. I want it, and need it, and I can't have it. What to do? I haven't come up with an answer yet. I was wondering what other people do who have this situation where they don't live near their spanker, and can't always manage the self spanking. Do you languish for lack of a sore red bottom? Do you suck it up and deal with it, and just wait through the interminable time until you can see your spanker again? I've been doing that lately, but I'm not sure how long it will last before I start feeling the mental effects of absolutely no spanking. It's been so long that my fantasies are starting to lack the spark needed to really get me going, so even my masturbatory life is starting to languish. The little thing I wrote the other day was my first hint that my spanking mojo is still intact, but how do I reignite it?

Starting this over

2011-02-04T22:37:00.002-05:00

I originally started this blog four years ago. I only wrote one post that year, and two the next. Not enough to keep anything going. At the time my spanking life had come almost to a halt, so there wasn't really anything to write about. Well, I still have this stuff in my head, even though I don't get spanked as much as I used to, so I need an outlet for it. This is the one place for it, because Facebook is my vanilla space, and I have to edit too much on Twitter. This is where I can talk about my kink, and my need to be spanked. Optimum situation would be long, hard and often, but at this point that's not happening. Later this year I'll finally get spanked by someone other than myself. Maybe I'll include the lead up to all of that, including the possibility of any threats and talk of what will happen. It's early yet, and I haven't been threatened in a long time, but that leaves a lot of time for it!

Becoming aware again

2011-02-04T22:33:00.001-05:00

As I don the voluminous covering, I become aware of my body in ways that I haven't been in a long time. Masturbating on a regular basis is the minimum level of sexuality needed for my survival, but it's better than nothing, so my physicality connecting in my own mind to my sexuality happens only occasionally. Every part of me brushes against the cloth, my nipples pinging slightly. It reminds me that I want to be spanked, need to be spanked, and I long to feel the cloth brush against my bottom as it stings and tingles and burns. To be spanked hard, this is also needed for my survival, but I make do when it's not possible to indulge. I want to see my bare red bottom as I turn my head to look behind myself into the mirror. To admire the marks and know that he knows me well enough to know what I want, and cares about me enough to give me what I need.

My new-found awareness of my body makes me even more keenly aware that I am without what I want and need, and that it will still be some time before I can have it. To be pushed down onto a bed, feeling that thrill/panic go through my body just before the belt or the paddle makes contact with my oh so vulnerable bare bottom. To be spanked long enough for my body to relax into it and become relaxed on a level that I have not attained since my last "true" spanking. The thought alone is enough to fuel new fantasies, making me more aware of my pantie-less bottom as it brushes again against the slightly stiff cloth. It makes me smile.