Thou shalt not laugh at thy top

Or else thine ass is grass.

On FetLife, one of New Guy's friends was teasing him on his wall, scolding him for not saying "thank you" to a compliment, calling him "young man," etc. And he was all "Yes ma'am, sorry ma'am." So of course, I had to give him a bunch of noise about that, didn't I?

Seems he took umbrage at that, saying I was spying on his page and making fun of him. I protested that he follows MY activity, and he said, "It's OK when I do it." Top logic at its finest, folks. Anyway, he deemed that I was lacking in manners, laughing at him. But I couldn't seem to help myself. Even after a very long OTK session.

He did take a break in the middle of it -- but only to send me to the kitchen to fetch the wooden spoon. After I got up, he said, "Those panties stay down and that dress stays up." I yanked the dress back down anyway. "Pull that dress back up or it comes off," he threatened. I pulled it back up.

I'd forgotten how much that @#$%ing spoon hurts. Makes those lovely ovals, too. But that was just the beginning.

Down on all fours on the carpet I went, for his belt and the strap. Had to switch things up, he said. Couldn't have my readers getting bored, could we? Nahhhhh...

I still couldn't stop giggling though. So he moved me to the ottoman, where he could really lay into me. I thought for a brief moment I was finally settling down... then "We Are The Champions" came on. When Freddie Mercury sang, "No time for losers..." I started cracking up again. But I didn't want to tell NG what I was laughing at.

He managed to coax it out of me, however. So I told him that when I heard that "no time for losers" line, I'd wanted to say, "Yeah! So go home!"

"Oh, I'm a loser now, huh?" The strap suddenly got much faster and much heavier. OK, I asked for that.

"I think you need 15 more good ones with this -- you're going to count them and say after each one: 'You are a winner!' " (groan)

We managed to get up to eight when he started critiquing the enthusiasm of my delivery. Wanted more sincerity, he said. Arrggh. He liked my tone after the count of nine, but after ten, he started up with that "Nope, I'm not hearing the enthusiasm" sh*t again.

So after stroke eleven, I hollered with all the energy I could muster: "Eleven -- you are a wiener!!"

He started over at number one. OK, I guess I asked for that too.

But finally, he prevailed, I stopped my giggling and mouthing off. "It really isn't wise to say stuff like that when someone is spanking you," he reminded me.

Guess I'm not all that wise. A wise-ass, maybe.

Hey! Aren't my VS Cheekies cute?

Of course, they didn't stay up long.

Geeeez... why do I bother wearing nice panties for this guy...

Think I was done laughing? Think again. Just before he left, he accidentally knocked a glass of water over, and I went to get some paper towels. I mopped up until a wad of them was saturated... and as he bent over his toy bag putting things away, I stuffed the wet towels down the back of his shirt. :-D

It was cute to watch him dance. He made me dance after that, but it was so worth it.

He won't be able to make it next Monday, unfortunately. Already I feel a little melancholy, thinking how I'll miss him next week. Damn, am I spoiled, or what?

Thanks for another great night, sweetie... and for being such a good sport. You know I think you're the bestest. ♥

Belting in the boudoir

New Guy's visit this evening had two purposes. Besides the usual, I had recruited him for a favor: to take some artsy, shadowy boudoir photos with me in a filmy nightie. Why? I'm not telling -- it's a surprise. :-)  You'll find out soon.

So we experimented with the lights, candles, flash, no flash, and he snapped away.

Kinda neat, huh? When we were done, I was ready to put my regular clothes back on, but for some reason, he said nooooo, I was fine just the way I was. And since I wasn't wearing any panties, warmup sort of fell by the wayside.

Remember how a couple of weeks ago, I had no pain tolerance? Tonight was just the opposite -- I was insatiable. Fortunately, he never seems to get tired of spanking me, so when I'm in that mode, things work out very well.

He was strict, though. I could not get away with anything tonight. Even sounds. "What was that??" "Nothing! I just grumbled." "Well, don't. No grumbling allowed."

So I tried to stay quiet, but another sound escaped after he started up with the strap. "That sounded like whining! No whining either; that's as bad as grumbling!"

Oh, come on. I started to protest, but he cut me off. "No grumbling, no whining, and no complaining!"

I couldn't help myself. "And no breathing, and no thinking..."

WHACK!!! "And no smart-ass remarks, either! Do you understand?" Uh... yeah, I kinda saw it his way after a while.

He pushed me off his lap. "Get on the bed, on your hands and knees." Strapping/belting position... aaaggggh. And John was watching!

Lennon, that is. :-)

I wasn't allowed to lie on the pillows until after a long strapping, and I had to count the last 15 and say, "I will not grumble."

He asked if that got through to me -- I answered, "Well, it's starting to." Clearly, we weren't done yet.

More with the strap, his belt, the tawse, and then 10 with the paddle. Then we were done.

Well, for a little while, anyway. We had Round 2 a little later. :-) That went on for a fair amount of time, until he really let me have it, giving me a flurry that nearly sent me through the ceiling. As I struggled to regain some composure, I gasped, "That was intense!" He snuggled close to me and whispered into my neck, "Was it good intense?"

And I whispered back, "Yes, you bastard."

I never learn. Told you I was insatiable. :-D

But very, very happy.

Dramas and traumas are banished once again. I have one of the bestest tops in the world.

First spanking of the year!

Actually, he called and said he couldn't make it; he had to work late.



KIDDING!!! 


Sorry, couldn't resist. My bad. :-D

I was in the mood to be pushed. Not sure why, because I wasn't stressed out or anything. I didn't feel the need for an emotional release, for tears. But I wanted intensity. I wanted a challenge. I wanted... strict.

We started out OTK, as we usually do. He seemed to pick up on my need and his hand was fairly heavy from the start. But of course, I had to push. So when he said, "I don't want any of your smart remarks," I snapped back, "OK, I'll take a page from your book and make stupid remarks instead."

Hair grab. "What did you say?" A little nervous but still nervy, I squeaked, "Was I not speaking English?"

Not quite sure how I went from OTK in the dining room to on my feet and bent over the recliner in the living room; it happened in a split second. I didn't even have time to move the damn gym bag.

To quote my blogging buddy, I'm barely pink here. Not to worry. Once he got me situated over the ottoman, he hunkered down and really let me have it. But not with the wooden paddle! How about that? Nope, it was an all-leather night. Plenty hard, though.

Midway through, he commented about how Zelle had said he should use lotion on me. Of course, she meant to soothe me during aftercare! But he chose to take something lovely and comforting and create evil from it. "I'll bet if I used some now and then started again, it would hurt more, huh?" "How the hell should I know?" "Let's find out. Go get some."

I was already screwed, so I wisely resisted the urge to say, "Get it yourself." I fetched the bottle of lotion from my bathroom and gave it to him, and he rubbed in a generous amount. That felt wonderful... for about two minutes. And then it was back to the heavy straps and his belt. And yes, it hurt more. Aggggggghhhhhh.

Oh, he was so proud of himself and his little discovery. He couldn't stop crowing about it. When he gleefully said, "And my hands are going to be so nice and soft!", I'd had it. "It'll match your head," I muttered.

Everything after that is a blur....

Well, I'd asked for it.

But he did use the lotion for goodness instead of rottenness afterward. :-) Aftercare was very soothing and sweet. For a while. Then I shot my mouth off again as soon as I'd come back down a bit.

(sigh)  I never learn.

He pinned me to the carpet with my hands behind my back and his legs trapping my own. I could not move... and he let me know quite persuasively that it's not a good idea to recover and revert to smart-assed-ism right away. No, not a good idea at all.

But damn, was it ever hot.

Thus begins a sizzling new year. Oww. And yummmmmmmmm. ;-)


Big ol' meanie....



Sharing another clip

This one is from later in the scene, where we'd moved from OTK to my ottoman and he'd broken out the heavy artillery -- his belt, a big black strap and that godawful paddle.

For those who have always wanted to see/hear me count and say "Thank you," (arrgggh) here you go. Twenty with the black strap. Watch out for #16; apparently, that one "got through to me."

P.S.: Remember, everyone, I really do like this. :-)

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!