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)

Rainy Monday

I love it. It's gray and serene and so, so quiet. Just the patter of the raindrops. It soothes my soul.

This weekend was a little better than the last one; J is very weak and tired all the time, and still a little feverish, but he was a bit more himself this weekend. I saw glimpses of his joking self now and then. I just wish he'd get his appetite back... he's so thin. He did go to the doctor again last week, had an exam. It's not in his lungs, he doesn't have swollen glands in his neck. I don't know why it's lasted this long, but it could be because he was so damned run down before he got it, working 12-14-hour days and sleeping so little. Anyway, I took him on his various errands, made sure he was fed, helped him with his chores.

Regarding my scene with Craig tonight -- unfortunately, life interferes with one's fun once again, and he had to postpone. Too much stuff going on, very understandable. We are hoping to reschedule soon.

Meanwhile, last night I remembered that New Guy had suggested our getting together tonight and I had told him I couldn't. Taking a chance that he hadn't made other plans, I wrote to him and said that if he wasn't busy and would still like to come over, he was more than welcome.

He'll be here at 6:30 tonight. :-)

It's raining. I'm playing. For another little while, I can let go of worrying about J. He called me this morning... just wanted to assure me that he's hanging in there and tell me how much he appreciated my care this weekend. (sigh) I'm glad it makes him feel better. I just wish I didn't hate doing it so much. Seeing him in such a weakened state makes me panic and project, and when I do that, I'm screwed.

Off to the gym with me.

Three weeks in a row!

I can't believe it -- I've been Chrossed three Fridays in a row. My little attention whore heart is bursting. Oh, and I see my sisters Bonnie, Hermione, Poppy and barely-pink are on the roster this week as well. High-fives, ladies!

Let's see... I've played with New Guy three times, blogged about our play three times, and gotten Chrossed with all three of those blogs. Think he might be a lucky charm? :-)

I really wanted to post a CHoS today, but I didn't have enough material and don't like posting a half-ass collection. Maybe by next week it will be whole-ass.

J is still sick. 'Nuff said there. I'm going to his place tomorrow morning. At least it will be clean; I went there earlier this week while he was working and dusted, mopped, scrubbed and threw out trash. He's been too sick to do any maintenance and I couldn't stand it anymore. Oh, and I swept about a month's worth of leaves off his deck in the back yard, and I have the blistered thumb to show for it. Not that I'm a martyr or anything. Heavens to Betsy, no!

Last night at 2:00 a.m., my refrigerator started making very loud squealing noises. It was running, but the noise was awful -- I swear, it sounded like there was a puppy trapped in the freezer. So this morning, I got out the trusty Yellow Pages and looked up a local repair place. I described the problem to the tech and he said someone would come to my place between 12 and 2 today. I said thanks and hung up.

Right after I hung up, the noise stopped. Then started again, not as bad. Then stopped. Then a few squeaks... and silence. Hasn't made the noise since. Figures! Dammit... why does that always happen? I know how to make the noise start up again -- call and cancel the tech! Meh.

Spanking-wise, I have very good news. Either Monday or Tuesday, I am playing with... drum roll... Craig! I last saw him at the Shadow Lane party, and before that, we hadn't had a one-on-one scene since last June. Why? His life is overloaded lately, with lots of work, business trips back to back, etc. In fact, next week he was supposed to go to China, but then that got cancelled. So we're seizing the opportunity. I am looking forward to it. :-)

New Guy says that the week after, my butt is his. You know, I could get used to this weekly spanking thing. I like it. I like it a lot.

Have a great weekend, y'all.

I found this amusing

My good old Hitachi wand "massager" finally bit the dust. I put "massager" in quotes because everyone knows that the usage of said device has absolutely nothing to do with massage. Anyway... didn't feel like paying top dollar at one of the local kitschy sex boutiques, so I did an online search. Found the best price at a site called Sexual Wellbeing, and they were having a 25% off special to boot. So I placed an order.

For whatever reason, my order was routed through DrugStore.com, of all places. That was the return address on the box, even though the invoice was from Sexual Wellbeing. I opened the box, and there was my new little toy... and a trial-size tube of Colgate Pro Clinical whitening toothpaste.

WTF??

Rather incongruous pairing, don't you think? Free toothpaste with every sex toy order! What's the message here? Perhaps because the toy will make me smile gleefully, they want to ensure that my smile is sparkly white.

Of course, it could be a more complex message. Maybe they're trying to tell me to take better care of my teeth so I won't have to spend so damn much money at the dentist. And then guess what? More money to spend on their sex toys!

Whatever. Printed at the bottom of the invoice is "This order was packed with care by Grace." Thank you, Grace.

Just look at that smile! Is it her toothpaste, or her Pocket Rocket?

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. :-)