Please be advised: This blog contains adult subjects and content. If you are underage, or adult consensual kink disturbs you, might I suggest something more wholesome and educational?

Or how about this?

Go on.... shoo!

Thursday, September 18, 2014

Why I love Jillian Keenan

For many reasons, but to name a couple: Because she is a mainstream writer who has the bravery to speak for us kinky folk. Because her latest writing is a brilliant piece for Slate entitled Spanking is Great for Sex, Which is Why it's Grotesque for Parenting.

In the off chance that you're not familiar with Ms. Keenan, she is a journalist who outed herself as a spanko in the New York Times, here. I don't say this about too many people, but she is one of my heroes. We follow each other on Twitter, and she once tweeted to me that if I'm ever in New York, we should hang out. Now that was a compliment indeed.

I am probably not the first spanko blogger today to call attention to her latest piece, nor will I be the last. But I don't care; I just want to spread the word. Ms. Keenan has voiced an opinion that I have thought for years, have hinted at in my writings, but never articulated so bluntly and perfectly as she did.

Spanking children is grotesque. It's wrong on just about every level I can think of. What we do as adults is consensual, plain and simple. A child doesn't get to consent. That in itself is enough of a reason to not do it, but when you throw in the physiological and sexual ramifications, as Ms. Keenan does, then you really have a case against it. So let's review: spanking causes a child fear, physical and emotional pain (it's fucking humiliating), and it throws in a confusing sexual connotation too? It's outlawed in certain states and in Sweden. Why is this ban not worldwide already?

Ms. Keenan is very brave. She is already getting major backlash for this article -- from enraged parents, from the fundamentalists, from the anti-kinks, and from the just plain stupid. Don't bother reading the comments attached to her piece, unless you want your head to explode. She has been tweeting a random assortment of negative messages she's received, gems such as:

"I was spanked and I turned out fine!"

"Football players tap butts!"

"Spankings are about power, not sexuality."

"Foot rubs can be sexual!" (WTF??)

"People spank butts because they're conveniently padded!"

And my favorite, which looks like one of my CHoS entries:

"GOD! You think SPANKING is SEXUAL??? U r SICKKK! You NEED TO be LOCKET up!!!"


But for every negative comment she receives, for all the hate mail and condemnation, I know she will in turn reap much praise, and deservedly so.

Brava, Jillian Keenan. Thank you for being our voice once again. 

Tuesday, September 16, 2014

"Pre"-birthday spanking??

Yup. Yesterday was one week before the fact, and Steve announced our scene was my pre-birthday spanking. WTF? Wouldn't that work for all the weeks prior? In fact, why not just start with the week after my birthday and say it's pre for the birthday in 2015?? rolling eyes

Believe me, I know it's all BS. It's just a PREfabricated excuse for spanking.

He said it was to prepare me for the amount of swats next week. I said thanks a lot for reminding me of the high number. (sigh)

It was a lot of fun, though. I wore my (almost, only worn once) new panties:

He took two videos of our scene in the bedroom, but of course, Blogger is still being buggy and won't let me post either of them. I thought by now they might have fixed things, but that was clearly wishful on my part! Meh. We had some fun banter and he delighted in messing with my head. 

Part of his ritual is that when he's done, he pulls my panties back up. So when he did so yesterday, I went "Ooh" in surprise, since I didn't think we were anywhere near finished. "Oh, you think we're done? Is that what that 'ooh' was about?" he crowed. And he continued with that damned wooden paddle.

"But, but..." I sputtered. "When you pull my panties back up, we're done! That's how you always do it!"

"Really?" he said. "Is this a rule? I don't remember seeing that in the manual!"

Argh. Apparently, changing the game is "the top's prerogative." Of course, it was this bottom's prerogative to stick my tongue out at him and tell him to [fornicate] off.

But he was sweet, too. Ended the scene by stroking my hair and saying he'd be here always -- for every birthday, for every anniversary, whenever I needed him. He was my top for life. He even said it on video, so I could keep it and replay it and remember.

And you all know how much that means to me. 

I never thought I'd do this, but I changed my date of birth on FetLife. No, not to make myself younger -- I changed it to September 22, 1925, so now I am listed as 88F (next week it will be 89F). Screw it... I'm tired of the "for your age" cracks. Most people know how old I really am anyway, but now it won't be readily apparent every time someone looks at my profile. 

Off to the gym with me, which means I have to go (gasp) outside. Today is supposed to be the last really bad day of this freaking heat wave -- 109 Sunday, 104 yesterday, 101 today, 98 tomorrow, then back into the 80s by Thursday. Hallelujah. Southern California -- welcome to Life in Hell! 

Sunday, September 14, 2014

Fun with friends, and more Tumblr shenanigans

Been a busy few days. Not so much work-wise, unfortunately, but some really fun times with friends. Last Thursday, AlexSpankCake and I met for one of our epic lunches, this one lasting for 4 1/2 hours as we talked and laughed and chowed down on pancakes. These were mine:

Then on Friday night, a few of us got together for a housewarming to welcome Princess Kelley to L.A. John was able to join us for this one, and it was a nice evening. We've been having the heat wave from hell here, with temps in the 100s, but fortunately, she'd purchased some patio furniture and a grill, so we were able to stay outside the entire time quite comfortably. We left a little after midnight. Thank goodness for John's titanic A/C system is all I can say. It really was horrible to go out anywhere this weekend, and always a relief to come back into the cool.

So, what do I love, kids? Yup, the endless parade of Tumblr spanking photo blogs that post and repost the same damn pictures over and over. What do I love more? That's right... the Tumblr spanking photo blogs that never give said photos the proper credit. (Some of them do, and kudos to them.)

Remember this photo? It's from about three years ago; ST snapped it when I was changing the channel on the stereo. It's certainly gotten around lately.

First, it turned up on Tumblr site called "mindbendersa." (What the hell does that mean, anyway?) It wasn't credited. As I scrolled through many pages of this site, I realized that none of the photos were credited. Figures.

Then Alex reblogged it on her own photoblog, crediting it to me and linking back to my blog. (Thank you, Alex!)

And finally, someone called "lingeriespanker" re-reblogged it, adding his own two cents that I'm "way to [sic] skinny." 


Alex then commented that I am healthy and take care of myself, and shaming people at either end of the weight spectrum isn't nice. (Thank you again, Alex! ♥) But by now, I just had to laugh at it all. 

First of all, I'm neither in lingerie nor am I being spanked in this photo, so why was it on a blog called "lingeriespanker"? Was it just so he could share his opinion with the cyberworld, because everyone is just dying to know what he thinks of my body?

And second, who the hell do these people think they are, critiquing the bodies in the photos they steal post? Please, don't do us any favors. If our figures aren't your cup of tea, then don't bother gracing your crappy photoblogs with them, k? And if you don't like the photos on someone else's photoblogs, just shut up and move on... there are a quazillion others you can perv on.

I have never commented on a Tumblr blog -- I can't, because I don't have a Tumblr account. Perhaps I should consider starting one. I think some of these posters could use a good dose of snark, don't you? :-)

Hope everyone had a nice weekend. 

Wednesday, September 10, 2014

All pain is not equal

Yeah, I know what you're thinking... DUH! Of course the pain of stubbing your toe in the middle of the night on your way to the bathroom is different from a hefty bottom slap from a trusted play partner. That's not what I meant, though.

Even within the kink realm, pain is always in flux, as is tolerance. Pain from a strike in one area can deliver a blissful burst of endorphins, whereas a strike just a few inches away can make the mind explode with agony and panic, even if you know it's coming.

Wanna make it even more complicated? Throw in the "one person's pain is another's pleasure," and you have very tangled webs through which to navigate.

Y'all know by now I'm pretty much a bottom girl/upper thigh girl; I don't welcome pain elsewhere. However, in the last year or so, I discovered that I love to hate the occasional "thigh turkey" -- the single slap to the front/inner thigh that blossoms into a hand print. And in Vegas, as evidenced by photos, I took a bit of thigh punishment, hand only, leaving marks that lasted for over a week. Steve, of course, was fascinated by those pictures. (uh oh...)

I hadn't seen him last week, so it was wonderful having him back yesterday, catching up with everything. We had our usual intensely delicious OTK hand spanking, during which he so admired my new underwear that he wanted to get a picture of it:

Moving to the bedroom, I was still full of sass. I don't know why, but it seems that every time he tries to raise my window shade, he has a hard time with it. After he'd fumbled with it for several seconds, I said, "It's a shade, not particle physics." Yeah, that went over well.

He declared it "leather and wood" day, pulling out several implements of each variety. During the leather phase, he kept expressing his appreciation for the cows who provided such fine toys. "I love cows," he mused, which made me retort, "You should be careful where you say that -- in certain parts of the country that could be misconstrued. Do you love sheep, too?" 

Aaaaand then we moved to the wood -- specifically, that @#$%ing licking stick that I hate so much. He brandished it at me, making sure I saw it, and said, "THIS is for your mouth." To which I answered, "You want me to suck on it?" I never know when to stop, it seems.

But daaaaaaaaaaaaaaamn -- I had zero tolerance for that thing yesterday! I don't know what happened, but I could barely take it. I couldn't lie still, I twisted and squirmed and pleaded for him to stopstopstoppleaseplease. Granted, that thing hurts like hell, but usually, I can absorb it. Yesterday, I couldn't. Fortunately, he then moved on to the wooden paddle and the spoon (fortunately????), and I handled them a little bit better, but not much.

"You're off your game today!" he teased, lightening up a little. I was. It happens sometimes. 

Then it was time for a little experiment. He had me roll onto my back, and as I faced him, he gently stroked my thighs and said, "We're going to enhance this area a little." Enhance?? Oh, crap.

He gave me four brisk slaps with his palm, two on each thigh, well spaced out. I jerked on the bed and fisted the spread, but I was able to let them sink in, feeling the sting and warmth spread.

Then he tried the implements. Lightly. It was the first time I'd ever let anyone do that, and if it was going to be anyone, it would be Steve. But I knew, instantly, that this wasn't for me. The pain was bad. I don't mean good/bad, love-to-hate-it bad. I mean just plain fucking BAD.

And I gasped, "Yellow."

That was a first, too. He heeded it immediately, of course. I didn't want him to stop, but I did need it to be even lighter. So he picked up the spoon, which was the lightest of the implements, and gave me a few gentle taps. But by then, I was done with this, and he could tell. He put everything down and gathered me up into his arms. I then blurted, "I didn't like that!!" and burst into tears. 

"We won't do that again, ever ever ever," he murmured to me. "Thank you for trusting me." I did. I do. I had been curious, but now I know... except for the occasional "turkey," thigh fronts are out. At least for implements. There was nothing sensual or erotic or in the least bit pleasing about that pain, for me. It was teeth-drilling pain. I suppose if I were into pure punishment scenes, that would be what's called for. But that's not how I roll.

After I'd calmed down, I told him it was OK to take a few pictures. Always the exhibitionist...

Don't worry... the bottom got plenty of attention too.

We will be switching to Monday for the next two weeks. Next week, because he has a work commitment on Tuesday. And the following Monday is my birthday... he says he wants to see me/play with me on the exact date. :-) Christ, another birthday. Didn't I just have one??

Tomorrow, lunch and post-party recollections with Alex and SpankCake!

Sunday, September 7, 2014

On my mind (yes, this is a rant)

Been a while since I wrote one of these, so I guess I'm overdue. But I have some steam to blow off. 

Last Friday, I posted a bit of writing on FetLife, asking a question about spanking party etiquette. I had been concerned that I'd done something inappropriate, briefly interrupting a couple of friends on Sunday night during their spanking scene so I could say goodbye. I would never walk into a deeply intense scene, or one that looked like they were trying to keep it somewhat private, but this one looked fairly casual and open and I thought it would be OK. Still, it bugged me, wondering if I'd been wrong, so I put the question out there.

In my writing, I asked what, if any, were the protocols of saying goodbye to friends at spanking parties if they were playing. Then I added that I hesitated to use the word "protocols," because it sounded BDSM-y, but I couldn't think of an alternate term. I mentioned that if you interrupt a scene at a BDSM/dungeon party, God help you, but was it different for a spanking gathering -- did it depend on the type of scene, how close a friend, etc.?

The replies were interesting and surprising. Most of them were tactful and nice, but in varying degrees, the general consensus was no, it's better not to interrupt a scene, and to err on the side of caution. Some said yes, it did depend on the circumstance, how well you know the people, etc. But mostly, it was considered preferable to not distract people who were playing, even if it was public. One of my friends, while politely saying that she didn't think interruptions of scenes were appropriate, admitted that she thought it was a bit extreme that dungeon attendees would "tear your head off" (her words, not mine) if you interrupted them.

That didn't bother me at all. I learned something new, and at the next party, I will shoot my friends a text or an email instead of trying to unobtrusively say goodbye as they're scening. So what pissed me off, big time? I got excoriated for my BDSM comments. I was told that the Shadow Lane party had a St. Andrews' cross and a leather spanking bench, and that's pure BDSM at a spanking party. That I was perpetuating the "us vs. them" mentality with my attitude and I needed to "get over it."

OK, a few thoughts here:

1. I do not have a problem with people disagreeing with me, or disliking something I've said. But there are ways to express that without being combative and in my face.

2. Wanna really set off my inner Hulk? Tell me to "get over it." What a @#$%ing condescending and invalidating phrase that is. Really, is there a more effective way to thoroughly discount someone's feelings?

3. Don't shoot the messenger. You may not like the fact that I mention the elephant in the room, but that doesn't mean it doesn't exist. The differences between BDSM and spanking aren't just things I pulled out of my ass -- they exist. I've seen them, heard them, experienced them. And so have others. I'm not basing my opinions on hearsay; I have been to dozens of dungeon parties over the years and formed my opinions on personal experience. So don't @#$%ing invalidate me by getting angry that I mention these differences. Denying them doesn't make them go away.

YES, there was a St. Andrews' cross in one of the main suite parties at this Shadow Lane. It was rented. Was it used? Yes. Did everyone like it? No, some did not. Some were quite vocal about how it didn't belong there. Me? It didn't really bother me, surprisingly. You know why? Because I didn't notice that it affected the atmosphere any. 

One night, there was a fairly intense scene going on at that cross, with one man and two women, Blaise wrap (plastic wrap), a cane and a Hitachi. There was a small bubble around this scene, as some stopped to watch and give them space. However, just a couple of feet in either direction, noisy, slappy spanking scenes were ensuing. People were gathered around the bar laughing and talking. The foyer was abuzz with guests coming and going. In other words, the whole effing room didn't have to STOP because this one intense session was happening.

I asked John, who has been going to BDSM parties for over 30 years, what would have happened if that same scene were in a dungeon. He admitted, "If it were happening at [our local BDSM club], the room would have been expected to be quiet." Bingo.

THAT's the difference. Sure, there are similar scenes, there are similar implements and furniture, there are crossovers between the two cultures. But the attitude is different. I'm sorry you don't want to acknowledge it, but it damn well IS.

There are more protocols and rules in BDSM. There is a sense of entitlement and arrogance with many when they're scening, and yes, God help you if you interrupt with normal human party interaction. I was once at a dungeon party where several of us, including the freaking party host himself, were at one end of a large room, talking and laughing. And from across the room, a guy who was whipping and caning his partner actually called out and shushed us! I'm sorry, but that doesn't happen at spanking parties. At least, I've certainly never seen it or heard of it. I've also been at dungeon parties where spanking scenes were snickered at. Oh, and regarding entitlement? I was once at a BDSM party in a private home -- we didn't know the hosts personally, but we'd been invited by mutual friends. Once there, I met the male half of the host couple for the first time. He made a gesture that I should turn around, so, a bit perplexed, I did. He then proceeded to lift my short skirt (my panties had been confiscated by one of my play partners, so I was bare-bottomed), leaned down, and pulled my cheeks apart so he could inspect the goods within. And this was within thirty seconds of meeting me. If someone did that to me at SL, I'd report them to Tony and Eve. That would be considered presumptuous beyond belief. But in the home of a BDSM host, it was considered his due and right.

What's my point? OK, perhaps I put some noses out of joint when I mention these cultural differences. You know what? You can disagree with me if you want, and deny the differences all you like. But spare me your goddamn lectures, don't talk to me like I'm a child, and don't tell me to get over it. You get over it. Do not preach to me about how we're all kinksters, we should be one big happy family and accepting of one another. That's a lovely sentiment, but it's as achievable as world peace. When heavy-duty BDSM practitioners stop sneering at us and treating us like we're childish wimps with our silly childish spanking, then maybe I'll consider not separating the two in my mind. I didn't cause the problem. If we weren't different, then we wouldn't have both dungeon/fetish parties and spanking parties. We'd just have... well, parties.

Regarding my note on FetLife: After that one comment, the thread completely died. People didn't know how to follow that. One person attempted to say something placating and nice, and then another person jumped in and seconded the other comments, saying that what I'd written was "uncalled for." By this point, I was so angry, I knew I'd say something I might regret, so I deleted the whole damn thing. I got the answers to my original question; I didn't need to leave this up any longer. But I couldn't stop thinking about it. Hence, this rant.

Again, and I can't stress this enough -- I DO. NOT. HAVE a problem with people disagreeing with me. But yeah, scold me and talk down to me and tell me to get over it, and I have one ginormous @#$%ing problem. 

(deep breath) Rant over. 

EDIT, 9/8: Folks, I just want to make things very clear. This rant was not meant to be about BDSM vs. spanking. I've beaten that old chestnut into the ground, I think. I posted it because, in a bit of writing, I had mentioned the differences between the scenes, and, in essence, was told, "No, there aren't differences, you're part of the problem, so just shut up about it and get over it." That was my issue; I don't appreciate being publicly shamed and invalidated, just for mentioning something that exists. There are more tactful and respectful ways to conduct a discussion.