Well, what do you know

Tops can be fair every now and then!

When ST showed up tonight, he said, "So, I read your blog." Uh oh. But then he continued with, "I'm not going to spank you for defending yourself, or your friends. You're perfectly within your right to do that."

Hot damn!

And then he added, "I'll just have to spank you for something else, or make something up."

So much for that brief moment of fairness. Humph.

I told him that John had groused about the efficacy of his spankings. I quote, "Tell ST that whatever he's doing, it's not working! He's been there every week for well over a year and you're as big a brat as you ever were."

"There's no pleasing him," I grumbled during the warmup. "And there's no pleasing you either!"

"Oh, I don't know," he mused, running his hand over my bottom, still with leggings on. "This is a very pleasing backside."

"Thank you."

"It will be even more pleasing after your pants come down. Yes, this pleases me very much."

"Well, if you're so pleased, then why the @#$% are you spanking me?"

I never know when I'm ahead.

Here's an interesting discovery from this evening -- do you know that even a leather spanking buddy, when used with a very powerful hand, can feel like a club? I had no idea. But I'd swear that thing was a meat mallet, not a strip of leather, by the time he went full force with it. I was actually grateful when he switched to canes!

Still not all that red, is it? There was a lot more ahead.

No tears tonight; I was in a better frame of mind. But I had so much pent-up tension after dealing with the various asshats, I could feel it coming off me in waves. I struggled very hard not to scream, but a couple of yelps slipped out before I finally mashed my mouth into the bedspread.

Will you look at all these freaking implements?

But at last, it was the final ten with the wooden paddle. And then I curled up into a ball on the bed, bunching up the bedspread in my fists. He went to get the lotion; it stung, but felt cool as well. After a while, he got onto the bed and spooned with me from behind. We didn't speak for a long time.

I love aftercare. I love that connection, that time to transition back, slowly. I so adore how gentle he can be, after being so harsh.

Now, ready for something scary?

Here I am, still kind of in subspace, sprawled out on the bed among the toys. Check out my bottom. This is about 20-25 minutes after we stopped.

Looks like he hasn't even started yet, right? WTF?

Well, I can guaran-damn-tee you that it sure feels like he started, and finished too. But of course, to look at me, no one would believe it.

(sigh)

I can honestly say that at the moment, I couldn't give a rat's aspirator about whatever nonsense is happening on FetLife. :-) That should last me, oh, until tomorrow.

Oh! One more thing. Spanking Court put up another promo clip of that preview, and this one is much longer than the one on SpankingTube last week. You see more of the spanking, and get to hear more of my smart-ass lines. Also, watch for the moment in court when I temporarily crack up the Disciplinarian; I say something snotty and he abruptly turns his face to the wall. :-D  Check it out here.

(Note: For whatever reason, the link above to the SC promo works in Google Chrome, but not IE. Don't know if it works in Firefox or not, since I don't have that browser loaded.)

Blissfully sleepy. Sweet dreams, ST.

Don't try this at home

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

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

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

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

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

"Did I tell you to lay down?"

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

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



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



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

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

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

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

"Where do you think you're going?"

"I thought you were done!"

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

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

Sheeeesh! Try to be helpful!



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

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

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

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

I don't need no stinkin' Calgon...

Spanking took me away, for a little while. :-)

New Guy read my blog about being stressed out. He appointed himself as my caretaker and prescribed extra-strength, time-release Spanksalot. He did warn me that side effects included reddening of the bottom, difficulty sitting, loss of sass and a condition known as subspace bliss. Marking may occur in some patients. I was willing to take my chances.

I will fully admit up front that I was a little snot to him at the outset. (Who, me? I know, hard to believe.) I was all edges and angles and prickly burrs, full of tension. But he knew that.

"I think I should spank you in your bedroom," he said. "Why?" I asked.

"Because I haven't spanked you there yet."

"So you think a change in geographic is going to improve your technique?" I snapped. That did it.

I don't know how long the scene was. It went on for quite some time, and his bag of tricks was fully utilized, including a brand-new hairbrush, purchased for yours truly. Somewhere about mid-scene as my emotions were bubbling up, I felt angry. Not at him, per se, just in general, and I wanted to fight and scream and cuss. Instead, I snatched the nearest implement on the bed next to me -- a strap -- and flung it off the bed. Unfortunately, it hit him in the legs.

"Why did you just throw that at me?" "Because I felt like it."

Strangely enough, he then felt like whaling the tar out of me. "You will not throw things at me. I will not allow that. Do you understand?"

I'm not stupid. I nodded my head. But he kept going until I apologized. After I did, he paused to rub a little, and I thought, "Oh, damn, I hope he's not done."

He wasn't.

Earlier that morning, a friend had written me and said, "It sounds like you need a good cry. Can you go there with [New Guy] yet?" I thought no, it's too soon. It usually takes a while for me to let go to that point. But I knew she was right; I sure as hell needed to.

The implements are all blurring in my mind. I remember toward the end, he asked me, "Have you had enough, or do you need more?"

I thought I'd had enough. I really did. But when I opened my mouth, all that came out was a meek little, "I don't know..."

"OK," he said. "If you don't know, then you're getting more."

Twenty hard whacks with the wide strap. I had to count them. By ten, my voice broke. By twenty, the dam broke.

It was a long time before I could raise my head. Crying as catharsis feels wonderful, but it embarrasses me as well. As Pixie likes to say, "tears are hot, snot is not." There is nothing sexy about a red nose and smeared mascara. He didn't rush me, just brought me Kleenex and rubbed my back. "Is that what you needed?" "Yes," I murmured into the bedspread.

By the time he remembered that he'd brought his camera, I'd already faded a fair amount. Still, we had to have pictures, right?

Here I am, covered with his arsenal -- and this wasn't even all of it:

Later, I'd pulled my little blue shorts back on and I was sprawled on the bed, and he liked the pose so much he wanted to capture it:

However, it annoyed him that I was now merely pink, and he decided it was time to refresh the color a little:

Mission accomplished.

We hung out and talked for a couple of hours, and then he asked if I'd like something to eat before he headed home. I didn't want dinner; what I really wanted was something sweet, and it was still warm out. So... we went for frozen yogurt. I can't tell you how perfect that tasted. He smiled at me, watching me happily scarf my concoction with four flavors, bananas and cookie nuggets, and asked if I was happy at both ends now. Yup.

Sleepy, sore and foggy brained this morning. But no more tension. Wish it would stay away. Perhaps for today, it will. :-)