Don't try this at home

A bit of silliness from last night. You know, being spanked in this position is very awkward. The blood doesn't know where to go -- to my head or to my bottom.

Tops are evil. I know, I'm not telling you anything new. But I thought it was worth reiterating. New Guy comes over here with his toy bag stuffed with implements, plus a case with two canes in it. Oh, and wearing his belt. You'd think that would be plenty of instruments of correction, right? But nooooooo. On the way, he actually stopped the car, got out and cut a fresh green switch. @#$%!!!!!!

"I think you need a good switching, young lady." Whatever. I think you need a lobotomy. (No, I didn't say that out loud. I should have; had nothing to lose!)

Last night was quite different from our play last Monday. Whereas last week I'd been strung out with tension and was ready for a good cry, this time I couldn't stop giggling. I felt like my blood had been infused with champagne bubbles and everything tickled me (well, except for those damned implements). Fortunately, he has a good sense of humor and played along.

After a long OTK warmup (I swear, I can feel his hand getting stronger each week), he stood me up and then piled a couple of pillows on the side of the bed. I started to lie on them.

"Did I tell you to lay down?"

"No," I replied. "And you didn't tell me to lie down, either." Oh, the glee. Y'all know how much I love correcting a top's grammar. Naturally, he didn't love it one bit. I swear, you try to educate some people...

I had to bend over and put my hands on the pillows, but eventually he let me lie on them. (Rather, he picked me up and plunked me down on them.) After a healthy dose of his paddles and straps, it was switch time. It didn't last very long, though. It broke.



He was unfazed, though. He still had plenty left to work with. And it was able to impart quite an impression before it met its demise.



Usually I wind down after a while, settle into my zone and shut up, but last night, I simply couldn't; I was sassy to the end. I'm glad it's not always like that, because that would get tiresome for both of us, but sometimes, it's fun to be silly and light-hearted. However, his spanking/switching/strapping wasn't light anything.

Still haven't broken him of asking stupid questions, though. At the end: "Hmmmmmm... how many should I give you with these?"

"How the @#$% should I know?" I snapped.

"Well, that's good for at least ten," he said, laying ten hard ones on me. Then he stopped. I thought he was done, so I started to get up.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"I thought you were done!"

"No, I said at least ten, for saying... oh, now I forgot what you said."

Helpfully, I reminded him, "I said, 'How the @#$% should I know?' "

Sheeeesh! Try to be helpful!



At 9:30 he had to leave, but not before he gave me a sample of all his toys again. He didn't want me to forget how they felt, you see. Plus, it tweaked him that I'd already faded. My bionicity seems to have returned. Today, except for one tiny mark off to the side where the switch wrapped a little, I am completely unmarked. Sore, though. Definitely sore.

My apologies if the pictures are a bit large. Blogger is acting up today, and after the first image, it wouldn't let me upload any of the others. So I had to do it the old-fashioned MySpace way: upload the images to Flickr, copy the picture code and paste it into the blog. I don't know how to resize or adjust the photos when I do it that way. But at least I got it to work! Not bad for a computer-challenged sort.

Rainy day, sore bottom... all is well in my little world at this moment.

Thanks, New Guy. (He likes that name, BTW)