Thank you and questions

Thanks to everyone who posted birthday greetings to New Guy. As you can see, they motivated him to come out of the woodwork and post a comment! :-) And he let the cat out of the bag... yes, my own birthday is next week. Gawd, am I screwed. This Monday, I'm in for both his birthday spanking and my own!

(OK, so it sounds like I'm complaining. But you know I'm really not.)

Some thoughts for you to ponder. First, since we've been playing for a year now, calling him New Guy is kind of ridiculous. But I can't seem to get past that name. I don't want to use his first-name initial; that's too mundane. Suggestions, anyone? (And don't suggest "Old Guy." I'm older than he is.)

Second, I've had a request for a book signature via snail mail. Should I get a P.O. Box? I've never had one before. Are they good things to have, or not worth the cost in today's electronic world?

Third, John has asked me to research laptop computers. Neither of us has one, and we are thinking about either getting one for him that I can borrow when we go on party trips, or splurging and getting one for each of us.

So I started researching online last week, and my head exploded.

I know nothing about wireless technology -- I still have a desktop with the old-fashioned snarl of wires and cords. I have no idea how wireless computers work and what one needs. There are about six different subgroups in laptops; OK, I know I don't need a fancy gaming one, but I don't want the super cheapo budget ones either. I know you get what you pay for. For John, it should be portable; for me, it would be more of a desktop replacement. The array of features is damn near impossible to navigate. And every time I think I've narrowed down my search to a brand, a model, etc., because I've read good reviews on it, then I find bad ones.

Please, PLEASE do not suggest a Macbook. Yes, I know how Mac users feel about their computers. Yes, I know the Macbook is superior. But it's too expensive and I've never used a Mac before. I am sticking with a PC.

So, with that caveat in place, does anyone have thoughts about what's good, what gives the most bang for the buck, blah blah blah? I'd say the budget is between $500-1000, although John and I disagree on that. He wants to go cheap, I want to go a little higher and get better quality.

Currently, I have a Dell. But I've read that Dell laptops aren't as good as some of the other brands out there. I've seen a lot of good reviews for a brand called Asus, and I've never heard of them.

And how does one become laptop/wireless savvy? Is there a site where one can go with some good, current basics that's understandable to computer dummies like me?

Yup, there's a good representation of me trying to navigate all this techno information. I might as well be trying to learn a new language. Do they have Rosetta Stone software for people who don't speak computer?

That's enough questions for now, I suppose. I'm going to collect the pieces of my brain strewn all over the room and get ready to head for John's.

Have a great weekend, y'all.

In 45 minutes...

... it will be September 15. I suppose I could be a perfectionist and wait until midnight, but I'm fading rapidly this evening. If I don't do it now, it will have to wait until (late) tomorrow morning.

So just pretend it's already the 15th, will ya?

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, NEW GUY!!!!

We met last year right after your birthday, so I didn't get to wish you a happy one then. I am definitely making up for that now.

Thank you for being my top, my friend, and the special person you are. I hope it's a wonderful day -- and year -- for you!

Everyone wish NG a good one! :-D

I never learn

And aren't y'all glad for that? :-D  Of course, New Guy keeps trying to teach me. Week after week after week. One might think he actually enjoys the frustration of attempting the impossible.

Despite the fact that I was partying away in Vegas last weekend and was drop-dead exhausted on Monday, I still missed him come Monday night. It didn't feel the same. So I really looked forward to seeing him this evening. Right on time, he showed up, bearing his toy bag... and something else. A surprise.

Flowers!!

What's even better than flowers? Flowers for no reason! I asked what the occasion was, and he just shrugged and smiled. Perhaps it was because we met just about a year ago. Or maybe it's 'cause he missed me as much as I missed him. :-) Such a sweetie he is.

Of course, then the flower-bearing Dr. Jekyll morphed into the implement-wielding Dr. Hyde in a New York heartbeat...

He thought it was inappropriate for me to blog all about my Shadow Lane adventures in Las Vegas. "I thought what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas."

"Well, yeah, but..."

"But nothing -- you broke the Vegas rule!"

I tried to protest that I have a responsibility to my readers to give them details of these events. "And I have a responsibility to keep you in line," he answered.

Oh, brother. Can you tell what I thought of that by the look on my face?

When he got into the full swings with the big black strap, he commented about his femdom friend and how she puts her full arm into it with follow-through, just like this. "This is her technique?" I asked. "Yup," he said.

"So," I said, "does that mean you spank like a girl?"

Probably not the best thing to say. I don't know what possesses me sometimes. (could it be.... Satan????)

Later when I was back OTK and all those damned implements were lying close by, he said something about how he hates having to do this. (Yeah, tell me another one.) I said, "Really? Well, if you hate it so much, then you won't be needing these." And I reached over and shoved all the implements off the bed onto the floor.

That probably wasn't a good idea either.

Guess what my grand finale was? Twenty strikes with each implement. All six of them. Ow. I suppose I asked for that, huh...

You know, I believe I'm going to have more soreness tomorrow from one session with NG, than I did last week after 12 scenes.

Wouldn't have it any other way. ♥

@#$%ing Tootsie Rolls!

Yes, I know. That's a very strange title for a blog entry. But I do have an explanation. (don't I always?)

I love Tootsie Rolls. I always have a bag of the Midgees in my kitchen, and I usually have a few of them in a Baggie in my purse. Last Saturday at John's while we were watching TV, we were having snacks and drinking coffee, and I pulled a Tootsie Roll out of my purse to munch on.

The next day, John took me by the hand when I was about to leave. "Come over here, young lady." He led me over to his coffee table and pointed. I looked down and saw magazines, a couple of DVDs, the DVD remote. Oh, and one lone crumpled Tootsie Roll wrapper.

"Do you think my coffee table is a garbage receptacle?" he asked. Well no, of course not. I merely overlooked that little wrapper when we were cleaning up.

"Here's what you're going to do," he ordered, still gripping my hand. "You're going to tell [New Guy] about this, and have him handle it as he sees fit. Then you have him email me and tell me if he thinks the situation was handled well enough, or if you need more. If he and I determine that further punishment is in order, I'm taking you to Las Vegas this weekend and letting everyone spank you."

Oh, brother. Sure, honey. Whatever you say. I figured he was just in pre-Shadow Lane toppy tease mode, but then tonight on the phone, he reiterated what he wanted me to do. Fine...

So New Guy came over, and I told him the story. Surprise, surprise, he agreed with John that I'd committed an egregious and irresponsible act. (rolling eyes) "Too bad we don't have that wrapper here," he said.

"Oh, but we do," I said, giggling. I got up, went to the kitchen and came back holding a Tootsie Roll Midgee. He unwrapped it and we split it. Then he crumpled the wrapper and threw it on my coffee table. "Is that about the way it was on John's table?" he asked. "Yup," I said.

"I think you need to get up close and personal with that wrapper." He then cleared everything off the table (except the wrapper). Next thing I knew, I was on the table.

Spanking and lecturing then ensued, with the intent being that I'd never forget to pick up after myself again. (Dammit! I just overlooked it! I cleaned up everything else! Argghh) Ah, but NG is diabolical. He took it an extra step.

"I think you should have that wrapper taped to your nose."

Yeah, right. And I think you should go fornicate yourself.

He told me to go get some tape. I said no. He convinced me with his heavy black strap that I really should go get the @#$%ing tape.

Yes, kids. I had to endure the rest of the spanking with a Tootsie Roll wrapper taped to my nose.

The grand finale was 10 belt strokes, and he said I needed to count them and say after each one, "I will not leave Tootsie Roll wrappers laying around."

"Do you want me to leave the incorrect grammar intact?" I snapped. Laying, indeed. I got extra for correcting him, but it was well worth it.

(sigh) I'm afraid I failed to grasp the gravity of the situation. I just couldn't stop laughing.

We actually didn't play all that hard tonight, honestly. I think he was leaving me in one piece for this coming weekend. I will not see him next Monday, as we'll just be getting home. But I have no doubt that in two weeks, he'll make up for it.

And I'll be happy to see him, as always. :-)

Damned traffic!

New Guy called me tonight from the road; he was stuck on the 134 Freeway and it was not moving. Not at all. In fact, he called 10 minutes later and said it still hadn't moved, so he was going to be a while.

I checked one of the traffic websites, and sure enough, there was an accident on the 134 West. So he was 40 minutes late. Very frustrating drive.

Y'all know where this is going, right?

Of course! It was all MY fault. Because he wouldn't have been on that damn freeway in the first place if he weren't coming to see ME.

Hey, I didn't tell those idiots to crash into each other! I didn't send out a bulletin telling half the people in L.A. to get on the freeway at the same time. However, these logical points merely disintegrated into the Top Ether.

"I'm going to take my road rage out on your bottom," he growled.

"Why can't you get a gun like everyone else?" I blurted.

"Because this is more fun, and far less jail time."

Humph.

A couple of minutes later, I couldn't resist needling him a little, saying, "You know, this doesn't really feel like road rage. It feels more like a road snit."

"Oh yeah??" Aaaaaand, that was the end of the warmup. Me and my big mouth.



Ah, but it's OK. I wasn't really complaining. :-) 

Afterward, he asked if I was happy. "Oh yeah," I gasped. He laughed. "But not too happy?"

"There are different types and degrees of happiness," I mumbled, still spacy. "This isn't like birthday cake happiness, it's more like spanked into @#$%ing oblivion happiness." Probably not the most articulate of explanations, but I think he got it.

Excellent news -- the remaining four books that CreateSpace owed me were delivered today, so I was able to give NG his signed copy.

My face is a bit overexposed, but I still like this shot -- Lookie! Me and my book! :-)

I need to stop clicking on CreateSpace every five minutes to check on sales. Obsessive much, Erica?

Thanks for another lovely Monday, not-so-New Guy. :-)

Bad Kitty

That would be me. At least according to my shirt.

John calls me that often. Since I consider myself to have many feline traits (love to sleep, picky eater, hate loud noises, won't pay any attention to you unless I damn well feel like it), it's a good fit, I think.

New Guy, of course, thought the Bad Kitty needed obedience lessons. I hissed at him. He didn't like that.

As soon as I went OTK, he complained about my shorts. "What is this -- you've got buttons on these back pockets. You want me to hurt my hand?" He started wrestling the shorts down immediately.

"What a sissy boy you are," I teased, "afraid of a few buttons!" Oh, he SO did not appreciate that.

He was big on the wide leather strap tonight; I think I got more of that than anything else. As usual, all the toys blurred after a while.

Besides the usual two rounds of spanking, guess what else we did? Yup -- watched a Spanking Court clip! My second one (the one we had to reshoot) went up on their site this morning. It was fun watching it with NG, since (as you would expect) he had a running commentary going through it all.

"I notice you don't count in halves and quarters with me!" (He's right, I don't. That would be really, really foolish.)

"I would have started over at one if you said that to me!" (Well then, I won't say it to you.)

"I would have chosen a heavier paddle!" (Well. How rude.)

Anyway, for those who haven't joined the SC site yet, here's a photo:

Check out Mr. Meanie-Face! You'd think I'd annoyed him or something. And that was before he switched to wood.

Anywayyyyyy... I guess I'm Good Kitty for a while. A brief while. Purrrrrrrrrr.

Mini-rant: The naughty chair???

New Guy is a man of many talents, besides the obvious ones he showcases every Monday evening. You already saw the heart paddle he made for me. He also made this spanking bench for a friend who owns a dungeon:

Nice craftsmanship, right? However, he made another piece of furniture for her, and I don't think it's nice at all.

He calls it the "naughty chair."

Yes, those are raised circular ridges. Yes, you sit on them, bare-bottomed, after your spanking. Are you kidding me??

I will say it's a beautiful piece of work. But there is no way I'd ever sit on that thing. Clothed, bare, spanked, unspanked... forget about it.

"But it leaves such a pretty bulls-eye pattern on your bottom," he teased. "I could use it for target practice!"

Your aim is just fine, pal. I don't need a freaking bulls-eye on my a#$.

Bottoms, would you sit on this? And don't answer "If my Top ordered me to do so, I would," or I'll lose my breakfast.

NG keeps telling me that he's going to take me to his friend's dungeon and make me sit on that chair after we scene. Right. He'll find himself with a three-legged stool.

Guess where the missing leg will end up?  :-Þ

Thirty Seconds

That's how much time passed tonight, between the moment New Guy walked in my door and the moment I ended up like this:

I still had my "I'm so glad to see you" face on, for God's sake. But no time for niceties. We had lost time to make up for.

"I'm sure you haven't behaved yourself at all the past two weeks," he said. So? Whose fault is that? I think i may have actually said that out loud. I don't remember. I do remember saying "Ow" a lot.

"You're getting it hard and fast tonight," he scolded. "and it's just the way you need it. Isn't it!"

"NO!" I hollered. "Oh?" he said. "Well, in that case, maybe I should just go home then, right? I mean, if you don't need it..."

Arrgh. Of course I needed it. Damn him anyway.

He wasn't kidding about the fast and hard. "It's been two weeks, not two months!" I screeched. Didn't help me.

After that, there wasn't much talk. I didn't really want to talk. I wanted to shut up and feel, to absorb, to take it. To arch upward for more, even as my feet kicked and scissored in protest.

He changed it up a little, bringing out his flogger. He removed my shirt and flogged my back and shoulders, moving down occasionally for extra hard whacks on the bottom and then back up again. I never knew what he was going to do. I didn't want to know. The control was not mine.

I don't know how long it went on. I just know it took me a very long time to come back to reality, to stop making animal noises and once again speak coherently. Reality? Reality was the stock market tanking, the riots in London, and other assorted BS, tragedy and trauma. For a while, it went away. For a while, I was in a bubble, no one else in the world but NG and me.

Welcome back, Erica...

Yup... ease back into reality. Savor the moment. Savor your Blogger-versary and Consensual Spanking Day.

He'd read my blog about changes. Didn't say much about it, except for four words. Four words that meant the world.

"I'm not going anywhere."

I could have kissed him for that.

Friends in the London vicinity, my thoughts are with you. I remember the L.A. riots as if they were yesterday. I hope peace is restored soon.

Just one thing left to make my night complete... chocolate. :-) Night, y'all.

Celebration time!

We have everything we need, right?

An awesome top with a hard hand and a bagful of toys -- check!

A cheeky brat girl -- check!

And champagne -- check!

What are we celebrating, you ask. CreateSpace finally accepted my @#$%ing book cover, that's what!! :-D  Those numbnuts -- gawd, the aggravation they put Zelle and me through!

They rejected the first version with a generic message about "live elements" being outside the image area. No details. Zelle took great pains to make damn sure the second version was even more perfect than the first one... and they rejected it with the same generic message. This time, I was pissed. I knew they were jacking me around, trying to wear me down so I'd order their premium services. Not gonna happen, guys. You're messing with the wrong woman.

I wrote to them and called their 800 number, saying I needed more information, needed them to tell me exactly what needed fixing. This morning, they wrote back to me, and hallelujah, they gave me a precise direction. Itty bitty minor thing. Nitpickers.

Zelle was leaving for vacation tonight, so I didn't want to bug her with this. I figured I'd wait until she was back home. But she wrote to me, asking if they'd OKd it, and I couldn't lie. I told her what was going on and said she should forget about it for now, go have fun and we'd deal with it later. Bless her heart, she insisted that if they did tell me what to fix, I should send it to her immediately.

So I forwarded her their instructions this morning, and within a half-hour, she had it back to me. I not only resubmitted the cover a third time, I called the 800 number again. Told them it was coming and I didn't want another rejection. The guy hemmed and hawed, said they check it thoroughly each time, because Point A could be fixed but in the process, throw Point B off. Fine, whatever... I said OK, but if there IS something wrong with this one, I want specifics right off the bat, no generics. And could they process this faster?

He said he didn't think that could be done, but I'd get my answer within 24-48 hours. But then after our conversation, he wrote to me to follow up (they'd never done that before) and said he'd spoken with the techs. I heard from them in four hours, telling me Congratulations, all looks good and it's time for me to order a proof.

YAHOO!!

I got that message about an hour before New Guy showed up -- how perfect! No fun celebrating alone, is there?

As it happened, a dear friend had given me a bottle of pink champagne a while back, but I rarely drink, so it sat in my fridge waiting for a special occasion. This was it! But first things first, of course.

NG got a brand new Smart Phone, so he was experimenting with taking video on his phone while spanking/strapping me. We got some cute stuff -- it jumps all over the place, but still fun. I guess it takes some superhuman dexterity to hold a cell phone camera steady and whale on someone's a$% at the same time! :-D

Oh, he was in good form tonight, let me tell you. He was strapping me so quickly, I couldn't catch my breath, so I yelped, "Hey! What's your hurry??" He then slowed waaaaaaaaaayyyyyyyyyy dowwwwwwwwwwwnnnnn. "Is that better?"

"No! Why does everything have to be so black or white with you tops?" I snapped.

WHACK!!!!!  "Everything is red with us." (groan)

Once he decided I was well done, it was champagne time. Did I mention that I rarely drink? A few of you have seen me after I have a glass or so of alcohol. It is utterly ridiculous -- I have the tolerance of a three-year-old. I start giggling and stumbling over my words and I get light-headed right away. As I did tonight. Not drunk... it's not enough to get me drunk. Just with a little buzz. Just enough to have lots and lots of fun.

Well, until I laughed at NG and called him silly one too many times.

Wow. Round #2 was something else. It's all a blur, but I know it hurt. I know it was measured and well paced and it went back and forth from tender to tough and back again. I know I took a very long time to come back down to earth.

I know it was completely wonderful.

"Am I still silly?"
"No....."

Interesting... I don't know if it was subspace, or alcohol space, or a combination of the two. It's not something I would want to make a habit of, but for tonight, with my joy over the book cover, it felt just right.

So is my bottom as pink as the champagne? I'd already faded... phooey.

But I will definitely feel this one tomorrow. Lucky me.

So now, I have ordered a proof. They are shipping it to me this week. I need to review it thoroughly, check all the elements inside and out. And if (I hope I hope I hope, fingers and toes crossed) everything is OK, I let them know, and the book goes on sale.

I'm so close. Can't believe it.

Thank you, Zelle. Thank you, everyone who has been so supportive and encouraging through all this. And thank you, NG. I'm over the moon that I got to celebrate with you. :-)

What I need

I didn't know I needed to play extra hard tonight. I didn't know I needed to cry, to sob, to absorb pain willingly and want more. I had no idea.

But it doesn't matter. He knew.

I don't know how he does it. How he reads me so thoroughly. Even from the start, with the OTK warmup. As he ramped up the intensity, I squirmed, but my mind was screaming, "Harder, oh please, harder!" I almost blurted that out, but I didn't want to top from the bottom. Not tonight. So I arched upward to meet his hand.

And then, as if he'd read my mind, he ramped it up even more. "Yes," I whispered, "yes, yes!" That may sound strange. But it wasn't a porn-star, fake-orgasm "yes." It was real. It was pure delight in what my body was experiencing.

I didn't feel like sassing, protesting or goading. All I wanted was to feel. To take whatever he wanted to give.

Once I was positioned over the ottoman, the strap, belt and paddle burned fiercely. One strike made me pull back sharply, crouch down onto my heels, gasping from the pain. He gave me a moment to recover. Then, a split second before I knew I was ready to reassume the position, he calmly said, "Get back up there." I did.

"You need this, don't you," he said, bringing the belt down. "Don't you!"

"Yes," I cried. "Yes!" Tears came. Didn't matter. They felt cleansing. I buried my face in the pillow and hunkered down for the duration.

He'd pause, gently touch and tease me with the implements, caress me with his hand. But I knew more was coming. I waited.

When it happened, my brain screamed, "I can't, I can't!" But then, almost as if it were another person outside of me, I practically heard, "You can. Take it. TAKE IT. You want it. You need it. He knows." And I did.

After a particularly long flurry, I was panting, sobbing, feeling like I was on fire. He paused. In my hazy, spacy state, the only thought that came to me was, "Oh... he's not done, is he? I need more. Just a little more. Finish me. Finish me, please."

And then he said, "I don't think we're quite done here, are we?"

How did he know? I shook my head vigorously. "No."

Not much more. Just ten. Then it was lotion and soothing, while I wept for a long time. I didn't want to stop. They were good tears. I trusted him with all my heart and let him watch me be vulnerable. He broke me down and then put me back together. New and improved. Blissful.

"How do you do that," I murmured. "How do you know when I need more?"

"How do you take more?" he asked. I don't know. I just do. I guess he just knows, too. Knows me.

I don't always want it to be that ferociously intense. But when I do, he knows.

I am so, so lucky.

A rare glimpse...

... of me, in submissive mode. Check it out -- fetching New Guy the paddle he made for me.

He told me to get it for him, and I did. Isn't that amazing?

OK, so later, I tossed it across the room. What do you want, perfection?

I told him all about the Spanking Court shoot -- he asked if we'd repeated the 50 with leather, 75 with wood, and I said yes. "Did that hurt a lot, with no warm-up?" he asked. I told him I didn't remember.

"What do you mean, you don't remember? Weren't you there?" Well, yeah... but when I'm shooting, I'm so amped up with endorphins and adrenaline, I barely feel anything. "Oh well, we can't have that. Guess we'll have to recreate it tonight."

Oh, for God's sake. Wasn't two takes enough??

Actually, he didn't really recreate it. The only resemblance to Saturday's scene was the final 75 with the wooden paddle. Before that? One hell of a lot more than 50.

But I needed it. Saturday was an appetizer. I am eager for future shoots with Spanking Court when we get up to their max -- 300. I enjoy being challenged on camera.

I've been watching some of the SC clips -- today, I saw one where the poor girl was sobbing at the end of 100 strokes with leather. Really? After 100 with leather, I'm just getting warmed up. It's all relative, I guess. Each scene is a little bit different, because they vary the positions and spanking benches and they have soooo many implements. And some of those courtroom scenes had me falling off my chair with laughter.

Anyway... was I properly chastised? You be the judge:

I love aftercare. :-)

When we were done with the chair he'd placed in the middle of the living room, I didn't bother putting it back. I knew he'd be using it again.

I was right. But then again, I did throw the paddle across the room.

Sorry this took an extra day to post, but NG had some trouble with his email and wasn't able to get the photos to me until this evening. Better late than never, no?

And 24 hours later, I still feel quite good. :-)

And the bottom's red glare...

...The belts cracking in air,
Gave proof to the brat,
That her Top was still there!

Yeah, I've got your Star-Spankled Banner right here!

(again with the damn tag...)

Yes indeed... who needs crowded parks and hordes of screaming kids? We had plenty of fireworks right here!

New Guy tried to go in one direction, saying I'd overreacted on Friday and gotten a lot of people worried. Hummph! I said I couldn't help it, and he said, "Well, maybe you should just stop and think!"

"Thinking is my problem!" I protested. "I think too much!"

"OK then," he said, "try not thinking?"

I asked him if he'd give me lessons on that. He didn't appreciate it.

I proceeded to argue (successfully) that I'd had a good reason for my panic on Friday and I hadn't posted that blog to stir people up unnecessarily, that there was no malice on my part. He agreed that I was right. He didn't stop, however.

"Well, I thought I was spanking you for a good reason."

"There you go, thinking again," I snapped. "I told you, stop doing things you're not used to."

That did it. OTK was over.

Onto the bed I went, and he stood so he could get a full swing.

Hey! I just realized he didn't say, "Oh, did that hurt?" this time. Not even once. Whaddaya know.

Oh, but he was in extra good form tonight, having himself quite the grand time at the expense of my poor maligned backside. And get this -- he's been playing a lot of guitar lately (even going to talent nights at clubs) and he had the nerve to say, "You know, I think we should dispense with the hand spanking. It's not good for my hand; I need to take better care of it."

"Not good for your hand???" I echoed incredulously.

"Yeah, it's bad for my knuckles!"

"Then don't USE your knuckles, stupid!" Oh crap. I said that out loud, didn't I.

Later, still on the musical theme, he was beating out melodies on my butt with the paddle and trying to make me guess what they were. OK, I got "Shave and a Haircut." But then I couldn't get the next one for the life of me.

He laughed. "It's 'Danny Boy'!"

Of course it is. You've got to be @#$%ing kidding me.

Then he tried another one. I didn't get that one, either.

"It's 'Jingle Bells' -- I thought I'd try something more recognizable!"

"Jingle Bells????" I screeched. "It's JULY, for Christ's sake!" No wonder I didn't figure it out. "Jingle Bells," indeed.

Besides, who can make out any sort of melody when all these damned toys are coming down on them?

He'd come over an hour earlier than usual, but alas, he left early as well. Last week, he hadn't left until nearly 10:00 -- he still had to drive home, walk his dog, etc., and didn't get enough sleep. Said that was my fault, as well. Of course it was, dear. (rolling eyes)

Ah, but I kid. I was so, so glad to see him, as always. He put me in my Happy Place. Can you tell?

I look stoned, don't I? No, just happily spent from the fireworks show...

Hope everyone had a spectacular 4th of July weekend. :-)

Have I mentioned lately...

... that I effing love, crave, absolutely adore Monday nights with New Guy?

The world goes away for a couple of hours. I forget it all... I forget about the bills that won't go away just because I'm not getting work. I don't fret about my boyfriend who is exhausted all the time, about the threat of inevitable heart surgery looming, even though we never talk about it. My mother, whom I haven't spoken to since New Year's Eve? She disappears for a while too. The treadmill of doom grinds to a halt.

All that's left is a fiercely dominant and sweetly compassionate man, as dependable as the dawn, his bag of tricks, the trust and the pain. The pain that takes me out of the future and the past and puts me squarely in the moment. The pain I struggle against, then surrender to. And the trust that allows it.

I don't remember the sequence this evening. It seems both of us were insatiable tonight -- he couldn't spank enough, and nothing was too much for me. I know it hurt... I even remember crying out his name at one point, and I only do that when it's really pushing my limits. Was everything harder and faster than ever tonight, or did I just imagine it? Bent over my recliner, over the ottoman, on the couch, on the carpet... it's all a blur.

Not many pictures this time. He was too busy whacking to do much clicking. This was taken early in the evening:

Notice that @#$%ing toy bag of his on my left. Arrggh.

Oh, and one more thing is prevalent in those couple of hours. Laughter. Lots of it. He got a wee bit overzealous with the flogger and hit the lamp with it. No damage. "Hey," he said, "does that mean I'm a light spanker?" Oh, har har har. He made another couple of light/lamp jokes, and really, what else could I do but tell him he wasn't the brightest bulb in the chandelier?

Paid for that, of course.

When we were winding down and talking, I mentioned that I was reading Dick Van Dyke's autobiography. He said we could play Dick Van Dyke and Mary Tyler Moore; I said no, because Mary was 12 years younger than Dick, and I'm two years older than NG is. "So?" he said. "It's just pretend. I'm not really Dick Van Dyke."

"Oh, I don't know," I murmured. "You're kind of a Dick sometimes."

Paid for that too. :-D

He did stop spanking me long enough to... guess what?

Yup.

Watch two episodes of Dark Shadows with me! Yes, I initiated him into my second favorite obsession. He even got to see my heartthrob Quentin.

Wonderful spanking, Dark Shadows, and I'm about to have some chocolate. At this moment, life is quite perfect, thank you.

And I guess this moment is all any of us has.

Guess what??

It's late Monday night! And you know what that means...

Yeah, tomorrow's Tuesday. 'Night, y'all.

(OK, I'm kidding. I'm kidding!)  :-D  Sorry. It's been that kind of night. I can't stop giggling and being silly.

Yes, tonight was all about fun and games, after last week's intensity. Hard spanking too, of course. Right from the start, thanks to my big mouth. I have been feeling a bit edgy and impatient -- I feel like I spend half my life waiting for things and wanting them NOW, and it puts me out of sorts at times.

When he first arrived, I went into the kitchen to pour him a glass of water, and he followed me in, plucking things out of the dish drainer and swatting me with them. First a wooden spoon, then a regular tablespoon. When he picked up a saucepan, I told him to get away from me, but he thumped me with it anyway. "Is that teaching you anything?" he teased.

"Yeah, it's teaching me that you're an idiot," I snapped. Oops. Not too bright of me, I guess. He yanked me over to the ottoman and pushed me down onto it. "Ten with this," he said, snatching up a thick leather slapper.

"I'm not warmed up!" I protested.

"You should have thought of that before you called me an idiot."

Ugh. All right, guess I had that coming.

"OK, time for your warmup!" he said cheerfully, pulling me up and over to the couch, and across his lap. He was soon to discover that I had a brand-new thong on, which he liked. "I suppose you think that because these are so cute and they allow so much exposure, I'm just going to leave them up, don't you?"

"I know better than that," I answered. This man lives to remove panties. He even likes to pull them back up so he can yank them down again.

You can't really see them in this picture, but trust me, they're still up:

Not for long, though. After a nice long hand spanking and some smaller implements (both leather and wood), he sat me up, pulled me up into his arms and carried me to the ottoman once again, depositing me there. (Freaking Neanderthal! What's up with the manhandling, huh?)

Some different sensations followed -- his deerskin flogger and then (I think?) a quirt. Impact first, then biting sting. He'd mix things up, changing tempo and intensity; one second he'd be lightly flogging my upper back, then he'd bring it down with a mighty THWACK on my butt.

By the time we got to the paddle finale, I was quite incoherent.

"Still feeling frustrated?" he murmured, stroking my hair. I shook my head. "Think you'll be a little more patient now?" Uh huhhhhhhh...

Our first scene is always more intense. But we're both insatiable, and thus we've fallen into a groove of taking a break, sitting and talking, relaxing, and then playing again. Tonight, during Scene Two, I don't know what got into me, but I could not stop giggling and laughing. No matter what. Thank goodness he has a sense of humor and doesn't get bent out of shape about laughter during spanking. But he still let me have it regardless.

I wanted to stop laughing! I really did! He kept escalating the swats, trying to get me to shut up, and after one particularly hard flurry, I blurted, "That was just mean!"

"That's me, mean," he shot back. "I'm full of meanness."

"That's not all you're full of," I muttered. He heard me. Oh dear. That didn't help my case at all.

But finally, all good things must come to an end and he had to reluctantly take his leave. At least I managed to stop laughing.

Oh, and my nice new thong? It was part of a set. Just had to get a picture of that, didn't we?

I forgot to cut out the tag, dammit. Hey, men? When you're taking a lingerie shot, don'cha notice when a tag is sticking out?

Pleasantly sore, relaxed and happy, I bid you all good night.

NG, as always, thank you, sweetie. :-)

The Bad Man

(Just an FYI -- tonight's session was a little edgy. Remember... I wanted it.)

New Guy wrote to me again this morning. The Bible thumper from yesterday was nowhere to be found.

He'd written to me several times this week -- brief, threatening notes saying that my naked pictures would attract the wrong kind of men. Bad men. To all these, I scoffed. I believe at one point, I wrote back, "Maybe you're a bad man. Ever think of that?" Probably not the best idea.

This morning's note said I was to answer my door tonight dressed exactly as I had been for the red couch pictures. (In other words, not dressed.) And his last sentence read: You will find out precisely what type of man pictures like that attract.

Uh oh.

I had all day to think about it. What was he going to do? Did it matter? Not really. I just wanted to see him. Feel his hands again, feel the impact of his arsenal.

Would it hurt? Hell, yes.

He showed up right on time; good thing, because by then, I was so nervous, I could hardly stand on those damn high heels -- the only thing I had on.

No niceties, no catching up. Not yet. New Guy wasn't here yet; he'd be there later. Right now, I had to deal with The Bad Man who was going to show me what happens to naughty girls who post naked pictures on the Internet.

He told me to clear off my coffee table; I did so. He threw two pillows onto the table, then pushed me down on top of it, pulling my arms forward. Out of his bag came lengths of rope -- first he tied my wrists together, then the other end to the table leg. Then he tied each of my legs to the table. Finally, he wound rope around my waist. All the while, he was taunting me, winding his fist in my hair and making me look up at him.

"You're going to learn a good lesson tonight," he said. I couldn't hardly move. My hair went in my face, into my mouth, but I couldn't do anything about it. The table felt cold under my bare arms.

It's New Guy. It's the man you trust. You're OK. You're OK. Take it. Be in it.

He'd purchased a brand-new belt during his travels... nice and stiff. A gift for me, he said. He'd thought about me when he bought it. Oh my god, that thing hurt. Hurt good, but still hurt. I moaned and jerked, but I couldn't get away from it. The paddle, the big strap... l wanted so badly to put my hands over my mouth so I wouldn't scream, but of course, I couldn't do that.

"You're not going to scream, are you?" he said, running his nails down my back.

"Please," I begged, "please don't make me scream!" My neighbors... but oh damn, I needed to scream.

He made me face him again; there was something in his hand. It looked like a towel. "I guess we can't have that, can we?" And he stuffed the cloth deep into my mouth.

I've never been gagged before. I suppose I could have spit it out, but I didn't dare. Now I could scream, but all that came out were muffled shrieks. The helplessness, the emotional surge, the pain all merged together and engulfed me. I started to cry.

"This is what the bad men do," he growled. "They spank girls until they cry."

I wept as he continued, feeling my entire body tremble within its bounds. It seemed to go on for a long time, but in reality, it probably wasn't as long as most of our scenes. But it was off the scale as far as intensity was concerned.

And then, finally... "Are you ready to be untied now?" I nodded vigorously. He released me then, and I collapsed into the table, crying hard. It wasn't bad crying, though. It felt like it was cleaning all the emotional crud out of my system.

The Bad Man disappeared. In his place was the sweet top I know, soothing me with lotion, bringing me tissues, checking in with me. Quoting Pixie Wells, I gasped out, "Tears are hot, snot is not," and blew my nose. Yes, I'm too sexy.

After I'd returned to reality, drunk some water, etc., he booted up his laptop and showed me all the cool pictures he'd taken during his trip. Oh, and he brought me a necklace from Wisconsin, made from bright yellow plastic cheese wedges. :-D

Later, I told him all about my adventures at Spanking Court and what a little monster I'd been. Guess what? He decided I needed more spanking. This time, it was OTK on the couch. Awesome...

Finally, he had to take off. But that's OK. I'll get to see him again in just a week. No more long waits. No more hunger.

So, am I sore? Yes, my toe definitely smarts.

Huh?

As he was leaving, he brushed up against my Barnabas cane, and it fell over. The silver handle landed on my big toe. I jumped and yelped, but then forgot about it. Until a few minutes later when I glanced down at my foot.

Freaking cane cut my toe!! OK, I figured I'd be in some hurt tonight, but not my toe, for God's sake.

OK, OK, my butt's sore too. (dreamy smile)

Welcome back, NG. Even when you're bad, you're fan-f*&#ing-tastic. :-)

Saved??

New Guy is home! He's been driving and flying cross-country for the past month, visiting friends and family. Apparently, he made a stop at some point in a family church.

Today, I received this photo via email:

Accompanying the photo was a Sunday sermon:

She who displayeth her nakedness before all the world and hath no shame shall surely suffer. For he who claims dominion over her bottom shall spanketh it without mercy. ~New Guy 3:14

Oh, God.

First, I laughed until my stomach hurt. Then I asked for his permission to repost this.

Really, what makes him think this Biblical crap stuff means anything to me? I'm Jewish, for Christ's sake. And can you believe he's still yammering about those naked pictures? The man has 23 pictures of my bare a#$ on his FetLife page.

Oh, and shouldn't he be the one in trouble for blasphemy?

Ah well. Not that I'm complaining, you understand. This time tomorrow night, I will be a very well spankethed woman. :-D

Is it possible...

... to be blissfully content, yet sad, at the same time?

I am.

Had a wonderful, intense and emotionally cleansing evening with New Guy. But now I won't see him again until Monday, June 13. That means the next three Mondays will be New Guy-less. He's going away on a long trip across several states to visit family. Part flying, part road trip.

I will miss him.

Today was one of those days. Nothing wrong, just me feeling cranky. Everyone was annoying. Went to the gym... everywhere I went, there were big macho idiots slamming huge weights onto the floor and making such hideous noises, I kept thinking I was going to hear a baby scream any minute because surely they were giving birth. I went to the dumbbell station where they have the smaller ones -- there was a single 8-pound, 10-pound and 12-pound dumbbell. WTF happened to their mates? What was I supposed to do with one dumbbell? Argh.

Finally found a couple of matched pairs (had to wander around a bit; naturally, people used them and didn't return them to their proper spot) and went to the spot where I usually do my arms... someone was there already. So I went somewhere else, and shortly into my reps, a guy came over and started working just a couple of feet from me... and he stank. Christ. The things one has to go through to stay in shape. Somehow, I managed to finish what I was doing without gifting the gym carpet with my breakfast.

Back home, this dreadful woman on FetLife was spewing opinionated drivel right and left, long sanctimonious diatribes about how it's WRONG for spanking parties to allow the "pros" (the quotes were hers) to do pay sessions there. What freaking business is it of hers if people do pay sessions in the privacy of their hotel rooms? Nearly everyone was disagreeing with her -- one woman actually told her "Mind your own business, Church Lady." Ha! But even that didn't shut her up; just kept up her blathering, insisting she had a right to her two cents. So I posted, "Who says money doesn't buy what it used to? Look at all the BS we got for just two cents." She didn't respond to that... yet. I'm sure she'll come up with a lengthy rebuttal when she's drinking her brew tomorrow morning.

I'm telling you, people get on my nerves. I was more than ready for New Guy this evening. It didn't take him more than five minutes to discover I was brimming with attitude and he had his work cut out for him.

Even my panties were cranky.

Look closely. Can you see what's written on them? :-)

Of course, they didn't stay on very long.

Why do tops ask, "Did that hurt?" Don't they know? Can't they tell? Do we have to spell everything out for them, for heaven's sake? :-Þ

It was a very long scene, a lot of implements. Everything is a blur -- I just know it hurt (yes, it hurt, NG). And I welcomed it. I was fuming at first, but I wasn't angry at him, just crabby in general. He knew it, and he kept pushing. Listened to my sounds changing, going from bitching to screaming into the cushion to ultimately whimpering. The final ten with the wooden paddle brought the tears.

He goes from tough to tender in a matter of seconds. I love that.

I kept my head buried for a long time as he held me. I felt foolish, but I couldn't stop the tears from dribbling. Now that the hard shell was broken and I was feeling vulnerable, the thought of three weeks without him felt overwhelming. Silly of me. Such a baby. But I couldn't help it.

Later after I'd recovered, somehow I ended up back over his lap. Seems he took exception to something or another I said; fancy that. Oh, I remember -- he was eating Hershey's Nuggets and throwing the wrappers on the carpet. I asked him if he was raised in a barn.

"I would think you'd be sore by now," he teased. "What makes you think I'm not?" I snapped. Hummph. Like it would make a damn bit of difference whether I were sore or not??

The second scene was even more intense than the first. Guess we had to go for it; after all, it has to tide us over for three weeks.

My computer chair does not feel very pleasant right now; I'm sitting slumped way down, leaning back with just my tailbone and upper cheeks resting in the seat. Absolutely horrible posture... oh well. No one can see me. Good thing, as my hair is a wild tangle and I have mascara smeared under my eyes. And this goofy grin on my face, even though I have a lump in my throat as well.

I really am a piece of work. I don't expect anyone to understand me; I don't understand myself half the time. But I sure do appreciate the love. :-)

Sooooo... in the next three weeks, I will focus on getting my book done. I'm so close now, final stretch. Two weeks from this coming Saturday, I will have Spanking Court again. And then poof, before I know it, New Guy will be back. 

And he's already told me when he comes back, boy, am I gonna get it.

Promise?

No post-shoot drop for me...

New Guy saw to that. :-)

Saturday was so full of excitement and sensory overload, and yesterday, I was pretty much wiped out all day. Today my energy had returned, but I was feeling the inevitable letdown after all that stimulation. Didn't last, though. It was Monday, after all. New Guy night.

We talked for a while about my shoot; what, no OTK? No hand spanking? We can't have that! Whatta guy. Started me out with the longest hand spanking I think he's ever given me. After that, I was a primed canvas for every damn toy in his bag, and I welcomed them all, even that horrid wooden paddle.

Not sure why I was so insatiable tonight, but luckily, so was he.

This was fairly early in the scene. I got a lot redder. But try as he might, he couldn't get the left side to match the right one. I am convinced now -- if I don't get a warmup, I mark. If I do, then it's almost impossible to mark me. But hey, he's welcome to try all he wants. :-)

When he took a brief break in the proceedings to use the restroom, I yanked my panties back up. "Who told you that you could pull those back up?" he asked, coming back in. "I wasn't aware I needed permission; I didn't get the memo," I answered.

"Well, I think somebody should pull them back down," he said. I looked up at him over my shoulder. "What, is your arm broken?"

WHAMMMMMO! "Does it feel broken to you?"

Uh... no.

"You gonna take 'em back down?" he asked. "I was just doing you a favor!" I protested. "I know how much you love pulling them down, so I just wanted you to enjoy the experience one more time!" Well, it was worth a try.

I wish I could remember more of our dialogue, because we were both in fine form tonight, but everything is blurred. Ah... I do recall one time when he swung his quirt at me and completely missed; I heard it hit the bedspread. "I'm over here," I smirked, pointing to myself. WHACK! He found me. How about that.

When he broke out the wooden paddle, he commented, "I don't think you got enough wood this past weekend." Oh, brother. I resisted to urge to quip that I never get enough wood (that would certainly backfire on me) and just yelped, "I did too! And your wood is harder than his wood, if you'll pardon the expression." Well, it is, dammit! I have no idea what V was using, but it was more snappy and stinging, whereas NG's paddle is a little thicker. All wood sucks, but there are degrees of suckiness. NG's paddle is sucktastic.

But finally, after about two Mondays' worth of spanking, it was time for lotion and cuddles. All was right with my world. Can you tell?

He is going on a trip late May/early June, visiting his family. I probably won't see him for two weeks. So... when I get moody again, when life has its usual ups and downs, when I am missing him, please remind me... tonight, I was deliriously happy.

Sweet dreams, New Guy.

So, so glad to see him...

I really missed New Guy last week. I know, it was just one skipped week. But it felt like longer than that, for some reason.

It took a while for us to get started; I was busy yakking at him, bubbling away about my book, the photo shoot I had last Friday, the upcoming Spanking Court shoot, blah blah blah. You know, I could have sworn he put an anonymous comment on my blog last week; whoever it was sounded exactly like him. He insisted he did not. Then I said, "I don't believe you!"

I'm not really sure what possessed me to say that.

"Are you calling me a liar?"

No, I protested, I didn't say that. "Yes, but it's implied," he said. Aaaaaand... we were off and running. Actually, no running was involved, but you know what I mean.

He was of the opinion that I should apologize. I had a difference of opinion. Amazing how convincing he can be, though... I came around to see it his way. I finally gasped out that I was sorry. "Thank you!" he beamed, then added, "that doesn't mean your spanking is over, though."

@#$%&*!!!!!!!!!!!

After Round One, I showed him some of the photos and then we got to talking about dungeon/BDSM parties and some of our experiences there. I told him a couple of my more risqué tales (including that infamous one in which John and I ventured into a swing club for the evening), and he shook his head. "You know, you're a very naughty girl."

Tell me something I don't know, Mr. Obvious. "Yeah?"

"Yeah, and you should get a spanking for it."

Right. He had just finished telling me his own risqué stories. Hypocrite! Hypocrite! Still, hypocrisy or no, I wound up OTK again.

"Are you learning the error of your ways?" he smirked at me after a few minutes.

"No," I retorted, "but at least this time you have a real reason, instead of making shit up like you usually do."

"There you go, calling me a liar again." Uh oh. He did a rather deft maneuver: lifted me off his lap, flipped me over into his arms and stood up, flipped me face down again in midair and plunked me back down over the ottoman.

Such a Neanderthal. I loved it, of course. With one hand fisted in my hair, holding me fast, his other arm went fiercely to work.

And once again... mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmpppppphhhhh.

We were so busy this time, we didn't take pictures. Ah well.

It's been a good few days. I think this latest photo shoot is going to yield a cover picture. John and I had a lovely weekend; he was so sweet to me, taking me out for a special dinner Saturday night. I now have two people reading my book: my anonymous new friend, and Danny, who volunteered to do so last night (thank you, sweetie!). So I have the best of both -- one completely objective person who doesn't know me, and one dear friend who knows me well, and both of them excellent writers. And this weekend, yet another video shoot.

Post-shoot drop? Nahhhh. New Guy will be over next Monday to give me a little hair of the dog. :-D

Here is a picture from last Friday. This particular one is not a good fit for the cover, but I like it a lot. It represents how I feel right now... blissfully relaxed, boneless, warm and tingly in my skin. Thank you, NG. ♥