Well now...

What have we here?

Yeah, I know, wisenheimers, it's my butt. I mean, what am I pointing to? What is that faint, strange discoloration on my right cheek? It's completely foreign to me.

Did I sit in some fresh paint?

Perhaps something bit me in my sleep. No, it doesn't itch. It most certainly doesn't itch.

Oh, my god.

Could it be....

That I....

I'm....

Marked??????

Imagine my shock when I noticed that this had bloomed last night. (Yes, folks, I check out my bottom in the mirror after I've played. Go on, tell me you don't.) Oh, I know, it's not much. After a hearty spanking/paddling/strapping, a normal person's behind would look like a war zone. But I'm somewhat of a freak. :-)

Maybe it's because I don't play as much as I used to. Or maybe it was that wooden paddle that he used to finish me off -- light wood, but still packed a wallop. But how come I didn't mark from the Shadow Lane party, where I played multiple times and shattered a cane?

Don't tell New Guy about this, OK? His head will explode.

At long last...

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Spanking on "The Office"

Any fans out there of the NBC-TV show The Office? If you are, and you watched last night's season premiere, you'll know what I'm talking about. If you're not, bear with me.

The Office is a bizarre show to begin with; you either get it or you don't. Michael Scott (played by the brilliant Steve Carell) is an incompetent idiot of a boss, and we've all had one (or more) of those, so we relate, laugh and empathize with the office workers, all of whom are pretty damned quirky themselves (some more than others). In last night's episode (appropriately called "Nepotism"), Michael had hired his 20-something nephew Luke to be the new office assistant, and the kid was the worst, most obnoxious screw-up in office history, insulting everyone and incapable of getting even the simplest of tasks right (he's sent out to get ice cream for everyone, and he returns with one small container of soy ice cream and a bag of bagel chips).

Anyway, after much protest from the employees, Michael finally loses it with Luke (who is annoying people with a laser pointer), bends him over a desk and gives him a spanking in front of everyone. You can see the clip here.

OK... I've been reading the online reviews of this episode, and the general consensus (with a few exceptions) seems to be that the spanking scene was hilarious. That's what the average vanilla viewer thought. What did spankos think?

I cringed. I laughed a little, but mostly, I cringed.

OK, I hear the hollers of "Homophobic!" out there. That's not it. To be fair, most current mainstream spanking scenes have made me cringe rather than feel excited. I didn't like the spanking scene from Community last year, which was F/F. I freaking hated the two spanking scenes from Californication. And I didn't even like the Weeds spanking, even though it was M/F and the spanker was yummy. His technique was godawful -- he looked like a flailing marionette and he spanked one cheek over and over. But I digress. The fact that this spanking was M/M wasn't the issue; it was just creepy to me overall.

Why? Because (my opinion here; yours may vary) once again, spanking has been played for ridicule and laughs. It was an embarrassing scene, topped off by the nephew running out of the office crying (!), and the employees re-enacting the scene, mocking it. Some would say it made the character Michael Scott look stupid and inappropriate, which it did. (The damn fool referred to what he'd done as "capital punishment.") But it also made spanking into something silly and inappropriate too. As a spanko, this bugs me.

Am I taking this too seriously? Or did others have the same reaction? I'm genuinely curious.

There are some spankos out there who rejoice at these scenes, cheering and saying, "Spanking is becoming more mainstream!" No, it isn't. It's used as a tool to get laughs or to be titillating ("ooooh, look, how naughty"). If you're uncomfortable with something, what's a good way to defuse that discomfort? Make fun of it. That's what I feel is happening here.

If this is the best they can do, then personally, I would prefer it if the mainstream would leave us the hell alone and leave the spanking scenes to the experts.

What do you guys think?

On another note, thanks to everyone -- here, on FetLife, on Facebook, via email and elsewhere -- who sent me birthday wishes this week. I was really floored by all the greetings and I wish I could have bottled that blissful feeling and saved it for a sad day. All kidding, sassing and clowning aside, my heart was very full indeed.

Have a great weekend, y'all.

Birthday treats! :-)

Hey y'all -- do I have a sweetheart of a guy, or what? Just look at my beautiful birthday flowers!

He sent them a day early, so they'd be a real surprise. I love that man.

Wishes have been coming in -- on FetLife, via email and even on good old vanilla Facebook. No spankings yet, and none planned for tomorrow, but in my usual fashion, I'm going to milk this birthday for at least a week. You know, if I must have these freaking age-markers, I'm going to enjoy them, dammit. So we'll see what the coming days may bring.

My dear friend Dave Wolfe, talented creator of WolfieToons, has had a tradition for several years in which he draws an original birthday cartoon for me. This year, he is swamped with work and didn't get a chance, but he made sure to send me something cute nonetheless:

(I'm a huge Marxophile, in case you guys didn't know!) Thanks, Dave!

And just so you can see his wonderful work, here's my birthday toon from last year:

It's now 1:00 a.m. and I should be tired, but I'm too wound up. How dumb is that -- what am I, five? Am I getting a pony? Tomorrow is Wednesday. Period. It's the middle of the week. I'm going to the gym. But I can't help it... there's that goofy leftover giddiness from long ago, when birthdays were as exciting as any holiday, with the promise of treats and surprises. Cake calories didn't count. I couldn't wait for the mail to come, because mixed in with all the boring grownup stuff (read: bills), there were cards for me. My birthday was my day. Sure, a bazillion other people claimed the same date, but it didn't matter -- I didn't know them. For that one date on the calendar... I was special. The rest of the year I felt invisible, but September 22 was mine.

For all those who make me feel special every day... thank you. :-) For now, I'm going to make popcorn, eat peanut-butter Oreos and watch Dark Shadows until I get sleepy. Yes, at this hour. I get to -- it's my birthday!

Monday morning ramblings

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Correspondence Hall of Shame, 9/17

Before I get to this week's festivities, I'm happy to announce that Richard's postings of our interview from the SL party got Chross'd this week! :-)

The first two entries have the dubious distinction of correct spelling (and how sad is that, that good spelling should be an anomaly):

I want to be straddled by you, which would you prefer my face or my groin?

Uhhhh... that's kinda like asking me if I'd prefer cottage cheese or oatmeal, dude. Both make me sick.

This was posted to a bottom shot:

Nice piece of pudding, I'd like to dig in with my tongue!

Just remember, it isn't figgy pudding. ;-)

wats up how u doin sexxy u look verry good 4 ur age

You know, if I'd received this after the RW interview came out, I'd swear it was a joke. But no, it came in about two weeks ago. I looked at the guy's profile... nope, it wasn't a joke. Get lost, junior.

very nice ass, I wish I ws there to recive a spanking as well, as I served you orally

Hey, I already got oral servicing this week and I have a massive toothache. No, thank you.

yes baby oil all over u.......slipping and sliding all over u//////then what next

Then u slip and slide right out the door, and don't let it hit you. Byeeeee.

One last note: Regarding Wednesday's entry about figging, I received a private message from a gentleman who described in detail how he spanks and figs both his wife and his 20-something stepdaughter regularly. Then he suggested perhaps I should consider figging for when I'm "extra naughty."

OK... first of all, TMI, hon. In fact, WTDMI (Way Too Damn Much Information). And second, I guess I didn't make my stance on figging crystal clear. But maybe you're right, perhaps I should consider it. When shall I consider it? Hmmm... how about never? Does never work for ya? Please lose my email address.

J and I are going to be toothache buddies this weekend -- he's having crown work done today, poor baby. Oh well, at least we can commiserate. On a cheerier note, tomorrow (9/18) is Craig's birthday. Yes, I got the date right this time. Can't believe how I jumped the gun and announced it on FetLife on the 16th. Anyway, happy birthday, Craig. Hope it's a beautiful day and a spectacular year for you. :-)

Have a great weekend, y'all.

Wonderful, versatile ginger

Today, boys and girls, we will review the myriad uses of this tuber.

This is fresh ginger root:

Not very pretty, is it? But oh, the things you can enjoy from this ugly, lumpy rhizome!

Ginger is a part of many taste treats, both sweet and savory. Sliced and pickled, it is a classic accompaniment to sushi:

In dried and powdered form, ginger adds a distinctly spicy note to cakes and cookies:

And if you boil down ginger root with sugar syrup, you are on your way to enjoying some candied ginger:

Yum! But that's not all. Ginger is known for its medicinal properties as well; in particular, settling various stomach upsets. So if you're suffering a bit of indigestion or nausea, you can pour yourself a nice soothing cup of hot ginger tea:

Or a cold, bubbly and refreshing glass of ginger ale:

So many good things from one ugly, unassuming little root. Isn't that amazing?

However, kids, some consider ginger to have yet another use. They take the fresh root, carve it down into plug-shaped pieces, and insert those plugs here:

Can you imagine? To this usage, I give a resounding FAIL. Ginger contains volatile oils that burn and irritate those tender tissues, along with the expected discomfort and humiliation. Strangely, the perpetrators of this ginger insertion (also known as figging) don't seem to be too concerned with those factors. In fact, they (gasp) actually seem to delight in them.

There is debate about when and where this practice started, but there is much documentation about how, back in the 1800s, horse owners did this to their poor non-consenting equine friends in order to "liven them up." However, that was the 19th century, and it's now the 21st. Today, that would be called "cruelty to animals." So I ask you -- if it would be considered cruel to do to animals, wouldn't it be even more egregious to do it to humans? Well, wouldn't it?

A while back on my old MySpace blog, I wrote about my opinion of certain tops rubbing capsaicin (hot pepper) cream onto sore and tender spanked bottoms. I believe I suggested that these tops should have capsaicin cream switched with their hemorrhoid ointment. Well, here is my suggestion for those who insist upon this cruel and unusual usage of ginger: I think they should be required to go a full day with a habanero pepper shoved up their bum. Oh, and with a freshly fierce new one re-inserted each hour.

Just my l'il old opinion, of course. :-)  This concludes today's presentation of Ginger 101.

Part 2 is up, and Erica is a crybaby

Some of you may have already noticed, but Part 2 of my Richard Windsor interview is now up on Spanking Tube, here. I really appreciate Rich getting these up so quickly, and I hope you guys like them! And if you do, please do take a sec and give a rating. I suppose there will be those who are disappointed because there's no spanking, just talking, but there will be that fun little spanking clip that Rich and I did as well, coming soon.

Please excuse me, but I'm going to whine now. I went to the dentist today. Here's what was on the docket: an old crown on the upper left was to be removed and replaced, and the tooth next to it needed a filling. Then on the lower left, an old filling was to be replaced.

The crown should have been simple; the plan was to pry it off, take the impression for the new one, then cement the old one back on as a temporary until the new one was done in a couple of weeks. However, that didn't happen. The damned old crown would not come off.

Dr. T said he was going to try to "tap" it off. He was going to hammer at it a bit in an attempt to loosen it, but I wouldn't feel any pain. Well, guess what... despite four shots of anesthetic (yes, four), I still felt pain up in the jawbone. Plus, the feel and sound of the impact did something to me--I could sense and hear this banging resonating loudly through my head, and it freaked me out. I guess I must have gone chalk white, and I didn't realize I was twisting and wringing my fingers until the dental assistant laid her hand gently over mine. The doc would stop, then try again, but the @#$%ing thing still wouldn't come off and I was clearly terrified, so he stopped.

Plan B -- drill the old crown off and fit me for a new acrylic temporary, since the old one would now be history. So drill, drill, drill away, plus drilling for the new filling in the tooth next door. Granted, by now the anesthetic was fully kicked in and I felt nothing, but my jaw was wedged open and my mouth stretched wide, and I could hear the drill (plus there's that lovely smell of your teeth disintegrating). So when he finally said, "OK, drilling is over," I had to fight the urge to burst into tears of relief. Yes, I am a big old baby.

The crown and the one filling ended up taking 2 1/4 hours total, and they didn't even get to the second filling. They'll do that when I go back for the permanent crown. However, I couldn't get an appointment for that until three weeks from today. And instead of my porcelain old crown as a temp, I have an acrylic that isn't meant to withstand all that much stress. The last time I had a temporary crown, I chewed right through it.

God, I hate dental work. You can say what you like about my spanking tolerance, but I am not a masochist. I hate pain.

The lidocaine has worn off and a dose of Advil has beaten the flare-up of pain down into a dull ache. And I have been warned not to eat anything sticky or really hard for the next few weeks. Thank God I don't chew gum.

OK, whining over. Thank you for listening.

Part 1 of Richard Windsor interview up!

Since I was a such a jabber-puss, my interview will be in two parts. Part 1 is on SpankingTube, here. The lighting is quite dark, unfortunately, but the sound is crisp and clear.

I hope you guys will watch and enjoy! And if you do, please do leave a rating and perhaps a comment. Part 2 should be up sometime tomorrow.

"Very famous spanking actress," Rich? :-D  Shucks. Thank you, sweetie.

Oh, and here is Richard's blog post about it as well.

Ups and downs

Hard to believe the Shadow Lane party was just a week ago. It feels so much longer than that.

Around midweek last week, I started feeling small waves of post-party drop in between the bouts of writing, commenting, laughing and feeling lingering euphoria over all the fun memories. I shook the blues off Wednesday and then again Thursday. Little things were bothering me, but I chalked them up to the usual post-party letdown and refused to take them seriously.

Friday, I was happy that my party blog got "Chross'd." But then later, the drop returned, and the inevitable crash I'd been fending off hit late Friday night. J had fallen asleep on the couch and awoke to the sound of my sniffling beside him. Stupid.

It didn't help that yesterday we had to drive to see my mom and stepdad. Note to self: Do NOT plan anything depressing on the weekend following a wonderful spanking party. What usually feels unpleasant to me felt particularly unbearable yesterday. It takes about an hour-and-a-half to get to my folks' place from J's, but yesterday afternoon there was a surprising dearth of traffic and we got there in an hour-and-a-quarter. I told J, let's sit in the car and talk for a few minutes; I don't want to go in early. I know, I'm awful! (sigh)

Anyway, the visit was the usual. My mother's child-like joy to see me wrung my heart. Both she and my stepdad looked feeble and doddering and I was struck once again with the cruelty of life that goes on much longer in quantity than it does in quality. We went to dinner and then back to their place, which was stuffy and hot and the walls were closing in on me, so we dashed out of there at 9:00. The visit had only been 3 1/2 hours, but I couldn't help it. I'd run out of things to say and I couldn't look at either one of them any longer. My mother had asked for my address and phone number, so she could give them to her mother. Uhhhhh... Mom? Your mother passed away in 1981. "Really? She did? That long ago?" I can't stand it. I just can't.

When we got home, I felt profound fatigue and all I wanted to do was curl up into a ball in bed and go to sleep for about 12 hours. Fortunately, J knew what I needed better than I did. We were watching 48 Hours; the alleged murderers of four young girls had been interrogated for hours and hours by the police until they cracked and confessed, and then later recanted the confession. After the show, J took me by the hand and escorted me into the bedroom, saying he had some questions to ask me. "Nooooooooo," I groaned, knowing what was coming. "I'm too tired."

Thank goodness, he didn't listen.

We had an "interrogation" scene with the hairbrush. He kept trying to get me to confess to something or another (made up, of course), but I was too stubborn to do so. After a while, I guess he realized this couldn't go on forever, so he said we'd have to continue the interrogation with "a deeper probe." (blushing) Sorry if this is TMI, but I guess I really, really needed some wild sexual release, to feel attractive and wanted and exciting. I screamed and hollered the walls down.

Today I felt better, but tonight, back home, I'm feeling sad again. Oh, screw it. It is what it is. I'm reading notes and comments from others who are also going through post-party withdrawal, so this is nothing freakish. And it will pass. Soon, my interview with Richard will be up on his site; that will make me smile.

My job is to not think too much. It's not good for me when I'm feeling fragile.

Post-party odds and ends, and a dumb question

OK, here's the dumb question first: How do you guys, my readers, see my blog? I'm talking purely visuals here.

Let me explain. I have viewed my blog from my AOL browser and through Internet Explorer, and I've viewed it signed in and signed out of Blogger. No matter how I look at it, I see the same thing: All the print, the photos, etc. are on a white background. Then, surrounding that white background is a red-and-pink floral border.

This weekend, a friend came to me and said that he loved my blog but found it a bit hard to read with the floral background. Huh? I said the background is white and the flowers only surround it, but he said no... the entire background is floral and all the copy sits over that. Ugh!

No one else has commented about the readability or the overabundance of flowers, but that's certainly not what I want. I am not that girly! So please let me know what you see. It frustrates me to think that I'm seeing one thing and everyone else sees another.

The post-party drop is setting in. Nothing too heavy, no weepiness or anything like that, just a general blech. Perfectly normal after so much excitement. The party feedback, comments and messages have been flying all over the Shadow Lane board and on FetLife, and I've been having lots of fun with them. I got my blogs out rather quickly (I have to, so I won't forget), but others are just starting with theirs, so there is more fun reading to come. 

Oh, and Mike Tanner sent me the cell phone shot taken of my bottom on Saturday. It had already slightly faded, but here I am after five with the "family strap":

And allow me to amend something stated previously: I had said that our friend CO Carolyn had taken 20 with the family strap. She had not; she only took 18. That wimp. :-D

OK... I really do need to do something or another that's not post-party related. This week has been a complete wash!

Shadow Lane party, Part 4 (Sunday)

You know, I was going to start this installment with two items I'd forgotten to mention earlier, but now I've forgotten one of the things I remembered I forgot. Ugh. Oh well, it will come back to me. The other thing I neglected to mention was from Friday night in the ballroom. On FetLife, I jokingly have chocolate listed as one of my fetishes. A very sweet man named Ben, one of my Fet buddies, greeted me that evening and presented me with a box of chocolates! Nice, huh? Thank you, Ben. :-)

Oh! Just remembered... On Saturday night, the NS people also had a suite party, which we went to first and spent some time before hitting 901 later. Thanks, guys! You're the best, and it was wonderful having you all here again.

I slept in until 11 on Sunday morning, then showered and dressed. We were supposed to meet Mir for lunch but she was running late, so we met her in the gym and told her we'd keep a spot for her at our table. I needed to eat, because I had a throbbing headache and had to get some Advil into me. Down at Cafe Siena, we found Danny and Sophie and joined their table; shortly thereafter, we were joined by Ann, a newbie to parties who had bravely come by herself and Tony had introduced her to D and Sophie, who took her under their wings. Craig was at the table right next to ours, with Gia, Lizzie, Jada and Missy. J leaned over and whispered to me, "Ask Craig why he has only four women with him." LOL!   

Very strange thing: Even though we were one table apart, our party had a different server from Craig's. While we had the best of service and got our food immediately and accurately with all the special requests observed, Craig's group had been seated before us and they were still waiting for their orders when we were nearly done. I don't know what happened, but I think the five of them were ready to eat their napkins by the time their food came. Fortunately, they had bread. But what a pain! Some people don't like Cafe Siena because the service is hit or miss, but I love it. And I like the food too; they have healthy choices. Plus it's right by the elevators and a main walkway and has an open plan, so people can find you easily as they go back and forth.

After lunch, we headed for 901, where Strict Dave was once again holding his famous CP Court. When he had them at FMS and SSNY, he was able to use a hotel conference room, but this time he had to make do with a large suite. Bob the DJ generously set up the sound system so it worked out well. J, Mir and I got there early to grab a good seat and we were able to snag one of the couches. Turned out to be a good move, since the room got packed and most people had to stand.

I love CP Court! CO Carolyn was the defendant twice, and so was Craig. Craig had purposely arranged to get his fire kit to SL so he could do fire play with Carolyn, but when apparently when the designated time for their scene came, she had put body lotion on and you're not supposed to do that, so Craig told her she had to go shower. She didn't feel like doing so at the moment, so there was Craig with all the stuff set up. He asked if anyone else wanted to do it, and Kate (of Kate and Michael) stepped up. She loved it... but unfortunately, she instinctively did exactly what Craig told her not to do. You have to remain stock-still, but she felt the heat and wriggled around, making the fire spread. He doused it immediately, but she still got a faint burn on her back. Craig felt awful, but Kate didn't blame him -- she blamed Carolyn! (playfully, of course) As for Craig, he got called up for "irresponsible texting" -- he's already told that story on his own blog. :-)

When it was over, Andy and a couple of others said to me, "Why weren't you up there?" I just smiled sweetly and answered, "Because I didn't do anything!" I cringed for a moment, waiting for the lightning strike, but it didn't happen.

After we all cleared out of 901, AZ Carolyn and I went back to her room to have some girl-talk time. We so rarely get to chat and we had lots of catch-up to do. So many times on these weekends, I say I'm going to make time to just talk with my friends, but it ends up not happening because of all the other activity and distractions. I'm very glad we both made it work this time!

Back in our room, I found J asleep so I joined him. After our nap, we got up and I changed into a white skirt and black-and-white top. I had the cutest pair of black-and-white checked panties with little blue hearts on the waistband. We were supposed to meet AZ Carolyn and Sue for dinner at Senor Miguel's in the hotel, so I texted Craig to see what he was up to. As it happened, he was already there with a big group of people; did I want him to hold seats for us? Is there room for four more? I asked. No problem.

So we went down to the restaurant and found our group -- what a fun table! Twelve people, including Craig and Gia, Sophie and Danny, etc. I sat at one end and we made two spaces for Carolyn and Sue, but then Carolyn called J and said she wasn't feeling well, so they didn't make it. I felt a little lonely at the far end, but both Danny and Craig made it a point to get up and come over to sit with me and visit, so I got to schmooze a bit. Mostly I listened while J and Missy talked about biking; she's an avid biker too. Unfortunately, the conversation veered into their experiences with accidents, which I could do without! However, when the food came, they dropped the subject.

I don't like Mexican food as a rule, but I can enjoy a simple dish like fish tacos. These were wonderful -- seasoned broiled red snapper, cabbage and tomatoes on corn tortillas, with a squeeze of lime. They gave me a sauce too, but I pushed that aside. Creamy AND spicy; blech on both counts! I know, I know... such a fussy eater I am.

After dinner, suite party time! Matt opened his room to us, so several of us convened there and it was quite the lively time. I sat at the bar chatting with several people, then Sophie got it in her head that Danny should give me another spanking. "Oh, you think so, huh?" I said. She did. I don't remember who said what after that, but sure enough, there was Danny, yanking me off the barstool and pulling me over to the couch, where he bent me over the back. He had several new toys he'd purchased at the vendor fair, including a cane with bright shiny red material wrapped around the handle (he called it the "Judy Garland cane," because the red stuff looked like Dorothy's ruby slippers in Wizard of Oz).

No warmup this time; he got right down to business with the implements. And it wasn't enough to just lift my skirt; oh no. He had to take the damn thing off. We made it quite the raucous scene and people were watching and throwing out comments. Then he gave me the first strike with his new cane, a hard one. The tip flew off. Another strike, and another piece broke off. And again, and again. All in all, five pieces snapped off and flew in all directions. He gave up and proceeded to take off his (brand-new) belt --- ouch!!! He'd forgotten his well-worn, familiar old belt at home, so he'd bought a new one. Ugh! New belts hurt like hell! But of course, my endorphins didn't let me down.

My Shadow Lane party was now complete, at least in one area: I'd broken an implement. :-D  After the scene, and some cuddle time on the couch with D, I gathered up the broken pieces -- well, four of them. The fifth one disappeared and we couldn't find it. But here I am with the evidence:

A while later as I stood chatting, Craig came up behind me and said ominously, "I think you need to come with me right now." Mmmmm... how could I refuse? We went into the bedroom, but both beds were being used. Someone pointed toward the bathroom area and said, "How about back there?" We walked in and found a large, open dressing room/bathroom area; as I recall, I'd played in a similar bathroom with Djinn last year. (Dammit! I didn't get to play with Djinn this time! So disappointed. But he left Sunday early afternoon, and our paths simply didn't cross at the right time.)

Anyway, Craig sat on the edge of the oversized bathtub and pulled me over his lap, giving me a folded towel so I could brace my arms on that instead of the cold hard rim. (so thoughtful!) He then produced this nasty wooden paddle he'd bought at the vendor fair.... ugh! You know how I feel about wood to begin with, and by Sunday night at a party weekend, I'm so tenderized I can hardly stand a powerful hand, let alone wood. Fortunately, after a couple of swats with that paddle, Craig heard the distress in my voice and put it away, going back to his hand. (thank you, sweetie) We had a nice long hand-spanking scene, then I sat in his lap and we chatted a while, winding down before we rejoined the crowd.

Lots more talking, blah blah blah, laugh laugh laugh... it grew later and I was getting tired. I hadn't seen Fineous all evening and I still wanted a flogging from him, so I texted him and told him where the party was. At midnight he finally showed up, but he didn't ask me to play, just joined us in chatting. I waited -- I had made it known that I wanted to play with him, so I didn't want to push. Craig then texted a few of us and invited us to his suite for a small party, so we prepared to head off, saying our good-nights. Fineous then approached me and whispered, "Do you think it would be OK if I came with you guys?" I told him I was sure it would be, and he replied. "Good. I don't want you thinking you were going to get away without your flogging." YES!!

Once at Craig and Gia's, Fineous first bent me over the dining room table for a brief spanking, then took me into one of the bedrooms where I stripped off my skirt and top and lay on the bed. What can I say about his floggings that I haven't already said in my rhapsodic tones; he's a wizard with those things. He started lightly, then built up and up, flogging all over my back, bottom and legs, varying the tempo and intensity, until all my nerves were singing and I was making animal noises. When he wound down, I was mush. I didn't want to move... I could have shut my eyes and slept there. He gave me lots of time, sat next to me and gave me a nice massage while we talked.

Finally I was able to get up, put my things back on and come out, but my legs would barely hold me up and I was spacy. Several other people had come in and I remembered I'd told Michael earlier that I'd love to play with him, but now I knew I didn't have it in me; I was well and truly done. I looked for him, but he'd left to play with Lizzie and I couldn't wait. It was around 2:00 by now and we had to get up very early.

I didn't want to leave without saying goodbye to Danny and Sophie, so I texted him to see where they were; they were in 660 again. We said goodnight to everyone in Craig's room. I'm sorry it didn't work out this time that I had my final scene of the weekend with Craig, but at least I did have my first one with him, and we had four total.

Room 660 was hopping, people were playing "Spanking Blackjack" and beer pong, but I just sat like a lump, struggling to keep my eyes open. We stayed for a few minutes watching the action, but then, reluctantly, we decided to call it a night. Many hugs in the room and at the elevator, and off we went.

Monday morning, J got up before me and took some of our stuff down to the car. We showered and dressed, packed up the remainder and headed down to checkout. Our intent was to eat a quick breakfast and be on the road by 9:00, so we could beat the Labor Day traffic. And this time, we met our goal. Even with seeing Richard Windsor, CO Carolyn and a couple of others, we still managed to get checked out, grab a bagel and coffee, and we were in the car heading out at 9:00.

We got as far as the main boulevard next to the hotel and my phone beeped. I then read the text from Craig: "I need to give you my fire kit." AAAAGGGHHHH!!!! I'd completely forgotten about that! I cried out to J, "Dammit! We forgot Craig's fire kit; we have to go back!" He immediately did a U-turn and headed back, and told me to text Craig back and tell him to meet J at the elevators in the lobby. I was so rattled, my fingers were fumbling and I kept screwing up the text, but finally got it finished by the time we parked the car. I stayed there while J ran in.

All was well; Craig found him and gave him the kit, and then J saw Mir and chatted with her for a moment. We hit the road for real at 9:30. And naturally, we hit traffic on and off all the way home! I really don't believe the extra half-hour made that much difference, but naturally J used it to his best advantage, saying that we made it here in four hours, so I was going to get one swat for every second (not minute, second) that our trip was past four hours. Whaaa?? I protested so mightily, he finally conceded and said, "OK. Tell Craig that he has to give Gia a swat for every second past four hours." Double whaaa?? I said, "Gia? What the hell does poor Gia have to do with this?" He said, "Well, Craig's a top, we can't blame him, and someone has to be punished!" Ladies and gentlemen, Top Logic at its finest.

The trip home took 4 3/4 hours; not bad, really. We went to J's first and got all his stuff out of the car, I said goodbye and headed home. Another party weekend was over.

Oh, and by the way... I have a faint bruise on my left upper thigh. And oddly, the backs of my calves are peppered with tiny bruises; I can only figure that those were from the flogger. My bottom? White as the day I was born.

Tony, Eve and Butch -- congratulations on another great party, and thank you so, so much! Thanks to everyone I played with, and to all who opened their suites to us. Over and out on the Shadow Lane 2010 party report. :-)

Shadow Lane party, Part 3 (Saturday)

Before I get into Saturday afternoon/evening, I have a couple of tidbits I forgot from Friday.

When J and I got to the hotel, we unloaded the car and straggled through the hotel lobby with most of our stuff (two trips were required). Once at the registration desk, I became aware that after over four hours of sitting in the car, I had a major wedgie going on. So, while J did the checking-in process, I idly slipped my fingers into the back of my shorts and grabbed at the waistband of the offending underwear, attempting to flick the material from between my butt cheeks. I know, I know... real classy! Then I heard a voice boom in my ear, "Keep your hands out of your pants!" I turned around and there was Fireman Chris, grinning at me. I gave him a big hug... and that, ladies and gentleman, was my first greeting of the weekend. Oy vey. :-)

Also, forgot to mention that several of the ladies of Northern Spanking entertained us with a song-and-dance routine in the ballroom. They were excellent! I love these people; they have such positive spirit and just seeing them makes you smile. Oh, and Lucy and Paul brought their baby boy, who was so beautiful. When I first saw him in his stroller, I crouched down to get a closer look. He was sound asleep, and I couldn't resist lightly touching his soft baby hair with the back of one finger. Without waking up, he reached up and swatted my finger away like it was a pesky fly! Sooooo cute...

Anyway, back to Saturday afternoon. After the shoot, I first went back to our room to change into shorts, and then I headed for the SSNY suite, which was having a party from 11 to 5. That room was packed and I found J there. I did a scene with Jon (JSpanks on FetLife), whom Craig had dubbed BonJovi because he is a musician and has a similar look to the rock star. What a cutie! After that, I was sitting on the couch talking and Mike Tanner (of the SSNY Tanner Reformatory) approached me and said I couldn't leave Las Vegas without experiencing the "Family Strap."

I'd heard of this strap -- it's quite legendary at these parties. And I admit, I was a little bit scared at the thought of it. I knew the challenge of it was to take full-on belt strikes, and while I'm partial to being strapped, I wasn't sure how I felt about taking this particular strap, especially on a party weekend when I had so many other scenes I wanted to do. However, my curiosity won out over my trepidation, especially since Mike was so nice.

He took me into the bedroom and said I could choose a number between 2 and 20. Our friend CO Carolyn had taken the full 20, but she has a tolerance that is far beyond anything I've ever had. So I played it safe and said I'd take 5. Funny -- he'd shown me the strap beforehand. I'd expected it to be this big, thick, monstrous thing, but it looked like an ordinary belt to me. Looks are deceiving... ohhhhhh my, that strap hurt. He spaced out the strikes, though -- gave me plenty of time to recover between each one. And after I'd taken all five, he gave me a very nice compliment; stood behind me and said, "I could just stand back here and look at this for about 24 hours." :-)  He said I had beautiful red stripes and I would have liked a picture, but naturally, I left my camera in our hotel room. Someone took a cell phone photo, but those don't usually come out very well. If it gets sent to me and it looks halfway decent, I'll post it.

From what I've heard, many people mark from the Family Strap. However, even though I felt it for a while, the redness faded almost immediately. Oh well.

We stayed for a while after that, watching some funny "instructional" videos that SSNY had shot, complete with Jules narrating in a cheesy, soothing voice like the ones you used to here in those old high-school instructional reels. Then at 4:15, we headed back to our room -- it was nap time.

At 6:00, I woke up, showered and washed my hair. I'd bought a dress super cheap at Tar-Jhay -- a simple shift dress, form-fitting cotton/spandex, gray with skinny black stripes, scoop neck and cut low in the back. I couldn't wear my usual boyshorts under it because they made lines, so I wore a little gray thong and a gray bra with padded cups. After I got myself into all this, I stared in the mirror and had a "What the hell was I thinking" moment. Who was I kidding with this dress?? It was meant for a 20-year-old! And horizontal stripes? With nervously shaking hands, I managed to blow-dry my hair and put on makeup, got my shoes buckled on. J put on his suit and looked smashing as always, and after he took a few pictures of me in my dress, I shooed him out ahead of me to go down to the ballroom and get us a table. It took me several minutes after he left to get up the nerve to leave the room. I figured, OK. I'm either going to look hot, or I'm going to look like a damned old fool trying to be a teenager.

Here you go, Jade... 'cause I promised:

I made it to the ballroom, of course, and relaxed once I was there and got positive feedback. We got a table right by the dance floor, and were joined by Danny and Sophie, Chelsea and Larry, Mir, Norm, Jada, and Andy. The buffet was marvelous; all sorts of healthy goodies, including my favorite, salmon. I ate very lightly at dinner, saving room for dessert -- Shadow Lane always gets spectacular desserts and this year was no exception. There were several cakes, including chocolate fudge and German chocolate cake. I love the latter, but this time, I opted for the former. Damn, that was good.

J and I danced, and Craig asked me to dance as well. I wandered about the ballroom, visiting with others, oohing and aahing over the clothes. The theme for Saturday night was "Mad Men" and some people really looked amazing.

Later in the evening, it was time for another round of suite parties. As on Thursday and Friday nights, Tom opened his suite to us once again and it was action-packed. I stood around talking with CO Carolyn, AZ Carolyn, Iggy and others. CO Carolyn, that brat, had had the nerve to buy a couple of ginormous rice paddles, bring them to the party and give them to tops, including Craig. "What's wrong with you?" I screeched. "How could you give tops implements like that? Where's your spanking sister solidarity?" She just kept repeating, "They were only $4.99! $4.99!" Over and over, as if that was a good excuse. I told her I didn't give a f*** if they cost 49 cents; she was evil for bringing them! Of course, she just laughed at me and repeated once again, "$4.99, Erica!" Arrrrggghhh!

I did my third scene with Craig in the bedroom; Jenni Mack was on the other bed being caned by Miss Chris. Once again I sassed him relentlessly, and I got to experience that @#$%ing rice paddle for my troubles. Damn, that thing sucked! I screamed and kicked and nearly clipped Miss Chris with my heel. "Have a little respect for Miss Chris," Craig said. "You almost kicked her!" "I have plenty of respect for Miss Chris!" I snapped back. "I just don't have any for you!" As always, our scene had wonderful energy and we played well off each other.

I had written in my Florida Moonshine report that I'd played with Strict Dave, and he and his lovely partner Stacy had come to their first SL party. So I was quite eager to play with him again. He asked if this time, instead of the sensation play with various implements, if I'd like to do more of a discipline-type scene with a roleplay, and I was game.

He thought for a few minutes, then came up with the scenario that he was my boss and I'd been caught using the company computer to surf spanking sites. OK, I could do that. So we had some improvised dialogue and then went into the punishment, a brief but hard strapping. Hot stuff! Dave is so good at what he does.

Later, I did a lovely hand-spanking scene with my friend David. That brought me up to 10, and that was it for play for me, that night. But the evening wasn't over by a long shot. Such a blur of activity and socializing, so many people! When 901 shut down, we ended up in 660, which was hosted by Paul (known as Tubaman on the various boards). He was a sweet host and asked to have a picture taken with me, and I happily obliged. Lots of familiar faces there, including pretty Sarah Gregory and Fineous, a great guy I've played with three times before and a Flogger Extraordinaire. He asked me if I was up for a flogging, but I was too wiped out by then and asked him to please, please find me tomorrow.

Craig had left the party to go do a private scene, but he said he'd be back in about a half-hour and asked us to wait for him. But by 3:10 a.m., he hadn't come back and I couldn't wait any longer... I was falling asleep sitting up. So we left, intending to text him, but then we ran into him in the hall, so all worked out and we got to say goodnight in person.

Back in our room, after chowing down on some peanuts and a couple of Pepperidge Farms Chesapeake cookies, I brushed my teeth, washed my face and fell into bed, feeling wonderfully drowsy and sore, welcoming J's comforting arms.

Part 4 (Sunday) coming tomorrow.

Shadow Lane party, Part 2 (the Northern Spanking shoot)

I was going to make Part 2 all of Saturday, but the Northern Spanking shoot deserves its own entry.

Prior to the party, Stephen Lewis and I had a brief exchange of email, discussing possible scenarios. He came up with one I thought was perfect -- I'd be a temperamental, obnoxious diva actress and he'd be my long-suffering agent, fed up with my screwing up every job he gets me. What, me play a snarky bitch on video? Yup. :-)

The shoot was scheduled for 1:00 in their suite, so on Saturday morning I got up and showered, and instead of my usual Saturday shorts and tank top, I put on a halter-top dress and full makeup, as I planned to head for the suite right after lunch. J and I went down to Cafe Siena and found Craig, Lizzie and Jada just leaving, and several others in our group inside. We got a table and were joined by Andy for a while, and then our friend David and another gentleman named Brian, whom we saw sitting by himself nearby and invited to join us.

I ate lightly and at quarter to one I left, went back to our room to freshen up my makeup and hair and got to the NS suite at 1:00 on the dot. They were running a little late, still shooting with Jenni Mack in the bedroom, so Lucy kept me company in the living room area and we chatted in a whisper. By 1:30, it was my turn.

We weren't sure how we were going to work the setting. The bedroom was ideal, since there was lots of light and a white bedspread, but how could we do an actress/agent meeting in a bedroom? Then one of the camera men (dammit, I have forgotten his name, I'm so sorry) came up with a brilliant idea -- I'd be passed out drunk on the bed, and Stephen's character would come charging into my hotel room, incensed because I was supposed to be on set and I hadn't shown up. Perfect!

Plus, I'd cooked up a little mischief of my own. I thought it would be funny if I'd demanded M&Ms in my hotel room, but they gave me plain ones when I clearly specified peanut. So I'd pitch a fit to Stephen about this egregious error and then deliver the coup de grace that would prompt him to take me OTK. I ran my idea past Stephen for his approval and he OK'd it.

When I last shot for NS, it was quite impromptu and they'd had just one camera. This time, they'd come with two and it took a bit longer to set things up just so. I think it will be well worth the time, though.

So they had me sprawl out on the bed, with glasses strewn on the nightstand (along with the bowl of M&Ms) and an empty champagne bottle beside me. Stephen would stride in, shake me awake and we'd begin our dialogue.

Action! He woke me, read me the riot act for blowing another job, and I whined a bunch of excuses. Then I launched into my tirade about the M&Ms. "What's wrong with them??" "They're plain! I wanted peanut!" "So what? What's wrong with plain?" "They're plain.... boring.... nutless. Much like you!" As I delivered this last line, I was pitching M&Ms at him. And after a bit more arguing, I said that I didn't want them, but if he did, he was welcome to them... and I dumped the bowl over his head. That did it.

You get the picture... vigorous spanking, me squalling and fussing and insulting. Stephen and I work well together; he matches me scathing line for scathing line. He progressed from hand to hairbrush, and eventually I came around to agree that perhaps I should reconsider taking the jobs he finds for me and stop with the attitude already. Guess what I had to do as a finale? Get on my hands and knees on the carpet and pick up all the damned M&Ms.

Cut! We didn't need to reshoot any part of it, so they went straight into taking still shots and then we were done. The whole thing took an hour and ten minutes. Paul and the other gentleman were thrilled; they said they got some great footage and our dialogue was hysterical.

Afterward, there was the usual signing of forms and taking the ID photo to prove we're of age. That always cracks me up. I mean, I can see doing that for some of the young models who could pass for 16 or whatever. But me???? For God's sake... anyone who could look at me and question whether or not I'm over 18 probably isn't watching spanking videos anyway... they're freaking half-blind! :-Þ

Big hugs and many thanks all around, and I took off, floating several feet off the carpet. Spanking shoots will always be one of my greatest joys.

Still to come -- Saturday afternoon/evening, and all of Sunday.

Vegas, here we come

Sitting here with some morning coffee and mentally going over the list. All outfits with requisite accessories, shoes, underwear, etc.? Check. Toiletries and makeup? Check. Bathing suit that I never wear but J insists I bring anyway? Check. Camera, charger, phone charger? Check. Snacks and bottled water? Check. My pillow? Check. (I hate hotel pillows. Too poufy.) CDs? Check. Wooden paddle? HELL NO! That's staying in the drawer where it belongs.

Head to J's, pack up his stuff, go to the nearest Enterprise to add his name to the permitted drivers of our rental, and then we are on the road. No traffic, please. No accidents. I heard this morning on the radio that a freight truck "lost its load" on the 101 (where I have to drive to get to J's.). However, that should be cleared up by the time I leave.

I can't wait to see everyone! :-D

Wish me luck with the Richard Windsor interview and the Northern Spankings shoot, please! I won't have a computer with me, since I'm a dinosaur and still use a desktop (and my cell phone doesn't even take pictures, let alone access the Internet), but friends will have laptops and I will probably check in over the weekend.

Have a wonderful holiday weekend, y'all.

Breathe in, breathe out

Bear with me while I remind myself to observe basic bodily functions. I forget the simplest things when I'm in the throes of nerves.

Oh, enough already, Erica. Yeah, I can hear people thinking that. What's with you and your freaking nervousness? You've done these parties for years and years. You have friends there. You know you'll have fun. You'll get incredible spankings and lots of hugs and all the attention your little inner narcissist could possibly want. What's with you?

Well, here's the deal. Part of it is all the standard insecurities and worries and anxieties we've discussed ad nauseam (and yes, it's nauseam, not nauseum). But another part of it is a result of my own wiring.

Most of you know this, I think -- along with depression, I also have mild OCD. Some people hear that term and instantly think of compulsive hand-washing and checking lights and jiggling doorknobs over and over to make sure they're locked, but those aren't necessarily the manifestations. The evidence of my OCD is in my need for routine and predictability. For some, unexpected occurrences are exciting. For others, they are mildly annoying. For me, they can be panic-inducing.

I derive tremendous comfort from familiarity and daily routines. Each day has its own particular basic order, with some variation but not a whole lot. I know what I'm going to eat, when I'm going to the gym, when I'm doing certain chores, what I'm going to buy each week at the market. J and I talk on the phone at the same time every evening. On Fridays, I know I'm going to pack up my bag and go to his house, and when I get there, we'll go to dinner. You get the picture. For some, this type of life would be excruciating. For me, it's essential to my well being. One of the reasons why J gets me so completely is that he has a bit of this himself; he has his own rituals. For example, when we get up, we must make the bed before doing anything else. If I help him with laundry and I hang or fold things, he'll end up redoing what I've done because I didn't do it just so.

Of course, life is rarely predictable. The unexpected happens at any given moment. And if you have any sort of life at all, you sometimes have plans that disrupt your routines. I love love love the party weekends. But let's face it -- they take my normal Friday-Monday and throw them in a blender. Nothing is the same -- my schedule, my location, my food, my sleep, my amount of interactions with others, what I wear, blah blah blah. It's kind of like being catapulted into another life for a few days.

Bottom line -- even when it's for something fun, something I love with all my heart, it's still anxiety-inducing because it's different. Couple that with the other normal party anxieties, and it's a wonder that I have any kind of sanity left. Yes, folks, I am a loony toon.

So when these nerves hit, my mind works overtime and I start my horrible-izing about all the disasters that could keep us from getting there, or prevent us from having fun once we get there. There will be a terrible accident on the highway that will keep us stranded for hours and hours. One of us will get sick or hurt. There will be a family emergency. Actually, these things have happened. One year, we did get stuck in a SigAlert on the 15. Another time, J had a bad bike accident and shattered his collarbone one week before the party. I've gotten raging colds right before the party. And yet, we always made it.

How freaking STUPID is all this?? I'm laughing at myself as I sit here picking at the cuticle on my thumb. Look up "basket case" on Wikipedia and there's my picture.

So what do I do? I remind myself to breathe. I put one foot in front of the other, do what I need to do each day, check things off my list. I write about it and invite the blogosphere to laugh with me over how nucking futs I am. And I show up where I'm supposed to show up. The rest is out of my hands.

I'll shut up now. I haven't drawn a breath for the past five minutes and my fingertips are turning blue.