Remember the Lovely Stuff

The other day, he spanked me hard.  We didn't have much time left before he had to leave for work, and we could hear our upstairs neighbor moving about, so he switched to the cane.  He caned me lightly to moderately, and since I was so warmed up, it actually felt mostly good.  Then, he did something he's never done before.  He told me I had to hold my position, and he was going to cane me 6 times in succession, and I needed to remain still.

I went into submissive trance mode, stretched my hands out on the bed, making my body a straight line, pushing my bottom slightly into the air.

"Good, girl," he said.  The cane came down 6 times.  Number 3 is when it gets hard to take.  4 is bad too.  By the time 5 hits, it almost doesn't matter, and I became aware that my hands were moving, lifting myself up against the bed.  Then 6 happened and I was free to move, to curl up, to feel what had happened, to whimper and shake just a little.  To breathe again.

He stroked my bottom, rubbing it, bending over me as I lay on our bed.  He kissed my head.  Then stepped back.  "Okay, one more time.  Are you ready?"

I loved him for saying it, because one taste of anything lovely is never enough for me.  But for some reason, my body wouldn't cooperate the way it did before.  And I knew why.  I knew when I do something well the first time, it always makes the second time mentally harder.  Because I no longer do not know how bad it is going to feel.  And I also can't claim that I can't do it, because I just did it a minute ago.  So, I squirmed and did not stay in position and lifted my feet to protect my bottom, pleading with him, telling him I wasn't sure I could do it.

"Do you want me to take it down some--how about 4 strokes?"

"No, I don't." I say grumpily.  "I want 6." So much of me wants to do it again.  It's just hard to decide to stay still.  I know I'll eventually be still again.  But it's like wading into a very cold pool from the kiddie side.  It takes awhile to do, and it's hard to move all that fast.

Finally, he grows tired of my wiggling as he keeps trying to begin the caning, and I keep making him step back and wait for me to be ready.

"I don't have any more time, Bonnie-jo.  We'll do this tomorrow.  I need to get to work."

"But, I'm ready now!!" I plead.  I must do this.  I must.

He brings the cane down 6 times.  It's just as bad as the last time, but the thrill that goes through me when I make it through the strokes without moving is intense.  I am proud of me, but more so,  I am so thankful that he has played this game with me.  It's so lovely.  I want to remember the lovely stuff.

I lay there for a bit as he moves around the room, getting his work clothes together.  Suddenly he comes back to the bed and reaches for me, grabbing my bottom in both of his hands.  He grits out, "Your ass..." in a sort of grumble, moan, curse, as he digs into it with his fingers.  "What--?" I ask.  "It looks amazing." He says.  And that feeling, that kind of appreciation and even objectification, is so lovely indeed. 


I Feel Better Now

I was completely out of control and I knew it, but knowing it did nothing for me.  Perhaps it even made it worse.

The weekend had been horrible and College Guy and I finally had some time to talk Sunday night.  He had me bend over for the cane, my hands on the bed.  He told me I would receive six cane strokes.  Each and every one hurt so badly, and yet, the part of my brain and heart that had been in so much pain all weekend craved the pain in my bottom.  If only my body could hurt as much as my mind and heart were hurting, maybe I would find some relief.

And then, he pulled me onto his lap and we talked.  Things were not resolved, but they were a bit better. Still, when he told me to stand up and that I was getting six more cane strokes to end everything, I slouched down on the bed and stared off into the distance.  I wasn't about to obey him.  Not because I didn't want six cane strokes.  But because I needed to know that he would make me take them.

We were still talking, and I remember saying, "You don't feel like I do!  You don't hurt like I do!  You're fine right now, and I'm in such pain. You can't understand how I feel. I don't know how you feel at all. "

He dropped the cane and pulled me over his lap.  Then a flurry of  spanks to my thighs began.  He focused on one thigh and then switched to the other.  It was methodical but so harsh.  After he had paid attention to both thighs, he began, "I hate that this is happening.  I was so scared this weekend when you acted that way. Do you understand me?"

And then he attacked both thighs, first one for awhile, and then equal amounts were given to the other.  And then he told me more.  He brought up things I had done that weekend and told me how they had made him feel.

Then he spanked my thighs--hard. I could hear the anger in his voice, but I was not the least scared by it, because I could also tell that it was being controlled. He talked.  He spanked.

I hadn't had a spanking like this in I don't know how long.  There was no implement.  Just his hand and my nakedness and the pain and his voice.  When he said, "You scared me, do you understand?", I softly breathed, "Yes, Sir.  But I scared myself too."

I didn't struggle.  I was too shocked and too needy.  I had sort of fallen off his lap before the spanking was over, so that I was kneeling on the floor, my upper body over his lap, sobbing softly, letting out the tears I had been wanting to cry so badly for so long.

And then the spanking stopped.  I was still on my knees as I hugged him.  "I feel better now," I remember saying.  "Me too," he said.  We grinned at each other slightly, probably both thinking that if anyone else had witnessed that they would have called it abuse, but that we would have called it therapy.  And in that, I knew that no matter how scared I felt, no matter how much I felt that I was losing myself and the world, I still knew a few things.  I knew I had this and that this made me unique.  And, in the violence of that thigh spanking, coupled with College Guy's words and heartfelt sharing about how he felt about all that had been going on, I knew he loved me.


Updates, Spankings, Sex and More

Okay, update ya'll...I think I'm in a better place than I have been lately.  Update from my last post--College Guy is not tutoring that girl from his job, the one I was freaking out so much about.  She ended up dropping her class, and my scary moment has passed me by until next time....

And maybe, just maybe I am in a better place.  I love my job.  We've just moved to a new apartment, and..well..we've been talking about getting engaged.  I honestly feel so girly about it (i.e. thinking a ton about what ring I want and not "do I want to get married???) I think maybe that is my way of coping with the stress of acknowledging that I might actually want to marry him.  I don't think I'm ready right now.  So much of me does not want to be any man's wife.  I feel like being a wife is being too vulnerable, to needy, too dependent.  Do I really want him and only him? Do I really want us to be faithful to one another, to promise that we will try to make it for our whole lives long?  Could I possibly believe him if he says that he wants me that way? I don't know.

So a couple weeks ago, College Guy spanked me before studying for his stats class.  It was a fun, relaxing spanking, just hand.  It was at night, and I was in my pajamas, and I remember wishing I didn't have to get off his lap so he could study.  I lay there, my eyes closed, loving the safe way I felt sprawled over his lap.

Then I felt the weight of his book on my back.  "Do you want me to get off?" I asked.

"Nope. Just stay there."

The weight of the book and his hands as he held it in place felt so perfect, as I sighed my contentment.  I wasn't falling asleep, but I was so relaxed.  The book rubbed my back softly as he wrote numbers down.  I thought about months ago, when I'd hinted to him something I'd read on a kinky blog about being a piece of "human furniture".  I know he hadn't probably thought about that for awhile and that this was not the kind of thing he was shooting for by placing his book on me.  But I felt submissive and close to him and relaxed and just perfect.  So nice...

Then just a couple days ago, we both returned from a busy weekend spent with friends and family, and we had sex.  Readers who may have happened upon my blog might not know that I really have had a hard time having sex at all in the past and that sex is still very slow going for me.  But this time, it went pretty well.  I still have a hard time relaxing and enjoying all parts of it, but it's getting better.

I find that I can relax in all the right places and really be prepared for him if he's being dominating or controlling when we try to have sex.  So this time, about halfway through our lovemaking, I said something or did something, probably squirmed to try to make him come out of me.  I don't remember exactly what I had done now that I'm trying to remember.  But I remember his reaction.  It was like when he spanks me and he's not going hard enough and I somehow let him know and all hell lets loose.  This was similar.  He thrust so hard and fast into me that I all I could do was gasp and melt inside.  Now, it wasn't mean or cruel, and it was only one thrust.  But normally for me, having sex and him making such a violent motion would be a lot for me to handle.  But instead of freaking out about it,  I actually felt more open, more relaxed and so much more desirous of him.

So life is good.  :) I don't know how much longer I will keep writing in this blog.  I feel like I'm slowly trickling down into not writing at all, or if I write, writing a bunch of stuff that no one especially wants to read.  We shall see.  



Today College Guy tutors a girl from his job because she has been struggling in a certain subject.

Be still my beating heart, and while you're at it, please please please stop hating him and feeling like he has cheated on you already, beating heart, because he HAS NOT.  Can you understand that?

And I know it's true.  But right now,  my heart does hurt when I think about it.  And it hurts when I remember all the arguments and discussions we've had about it, with me crying (yes, crying, I suck!!) about it and him holding his ground with "Bonnie-jo, it's just an hour in a public place to help someone who needs it". And "Bonnie-jo, this will be good for you."

I definitely need to get a grip.

And I am getting a grip.  But where I have found my grip is a scary place for me.  I have mostly gotten past the pain of this.  But in that non-pain place, I don't think much about this.  And in that non-pain place, I don't think much about him.  I don't think of much of anything.

I am trying to make myself understand that I need to be whole without him.  But I just think it's a cruel, sadistic world that would make things turn out that way.  There was a time when I didn't love him as much as I do.  There was a time when I didn't know for sure who I would choose to be close to if they made me do it--my magician or College Guy.  There was a time.

And now, when I began to feel so secure and safe and happy, I learned I was doing it all wrong.  Hello tumultuous world. 


I Hate You, but I Hate to See You Cry

I hate you, but I hate to see you cry
You make my world a hard place to breathe
But I know you have to be human like me
And so you hurt when they bring you down and you want to win
And be beautiful

Sometimes I think I love you and want you beautiful
Sometimes I think I might really care what you feel
And then you crash my dreams, you call me nothing
And I can't let you win and be beautiful
By making me ugly

I feel ugly that I am sad when you are happy
But I only hate to see you cry.

I feel like you don't see anything
Nothing that is real
How can I care when I don't understand you
How can I see you when I am shutting my eyes and my ears
When looking at you makes me want to close my eyes and pretend you're not there.

You're not going anywhere
Not going away
Not until we both live our lives
We're stuck

We are so different you and I
I hate you, but I hate to see you cry
Maybe one day I will see
That we can both be happy

For My Benefit, Not Yours

Sorry folks, I'm in a sort of mood, and I'm going to use all you strangers as some kind of incentive to try to get out how I've been feeling lately and what I've been trying to deal with.  I know this is not the kind of blog post anyone especially enjoys.  Who wants to read some weepy, emotional I-know-I-suck crap especially when that someone is a perfect stranger.  So, you've been apologized to, and you've been warned.  All pervy or nosy individuals who love reading about others emotions and hangups, read on.

I stayed home from work today.  I'm already feeling guilty about it and promising myself this will not happen again for at least until after Christmas.  Even if I"m actually sick, somehow I'm going to drag myself to work because I simply have to let my bosses see they can count on me.  But I couldn't work.  I just couldn't.

I couldn't sleep last night, at least not well.  It was that sort of surface sleep where bad dreams love to show themselves, where I always wake up in a sweat, where really all I'm doing is pulling problems out of my head as I sleep, examining them, trying to fix them, and then trying to make myself stop thinking about them.

I was telling College Guy last night that a neurologist I had seen interviewed in a documentary by Roco Belic called "Happy" said that there is no mental or emotional pleasure without mental or emotional pain.  College Guy claims the neurologist was generalizing like crazy and disagreed with that statement being a hard core rule, but I keep wondering if it is true.

It has been almost 2 years since I've cheated on College Guy.  I have not cheated since.  And part of me is itching to do something (not cheating, but something) that will make him worried, that will make him sad (I guess I'm sadistic too?) that will make him wish he could have me when maybe he's afraid he can't.

And I tell myself that the reason I want him to feel those ways--sad, worried, needy--is that I want him to still be thrilled with the fact that in the end, we have each other.  That in the end, he still has me, despite all the ways he had been feeling.  I want him to be happy.

But I think that is only part of it.  The other part is the "feel my pain!" part.  Because right now in our relationship, for some reason, I have been feeling all those ways I described--super worried, sad, wanting to know I have him and have him forever (almost so much so that I want to get married--something that is really kind of odd for me to want to do and has never happened to me before in the past).  I don't know what to do with these strong emotions.  I don't know how to use them to help our relationship become stronger.  It's not his problem, it's my problem.

There has been something in my life that I feel has really caused or brought about these feelings of stress.  There is this girl who's dating College Guy's brother, and I just cannot handle how she makes me feel.

She is the exact opposite of me.  Everything I see her do is so contrary to everything I would ever think to do it is unbelievable.  The way she treats College Guy is sisterly, I suppose, but sometimes it's in such a forward, controlling way, I just come away from it all, seeing red and my head reeling.

I don't know if I've ever hated anyone as much.  But more so, I hate the way I feel around her and around him, his family and friends in general.  It's not his problem, it's mine.

This past weekend, he hung out with his family and friends without me.  It was a spur of the moment thing, and they live aways away, so of course, I wasn't there and he was, which is perfectly fine, except for that tickling feeling of "He had so much fun without me."

Anyway, during the hanging out time, his brother said something mean about the girlfriend. His brother is an ass like that.  Everyone is used to it, at least I think they are.  College Guy pointed out, in only the fashion that he has done for his whole life long when it concerns his brother, that his brother was being a jerk.  But in pointing out how jerky his brother was being, I feel he underscored what his brother had said and made it worse.  He is so insensitive like this around them, and it's like no one understands how to see anything.  It's one of those things where you have to be there or at least hear the whole story to understand.  Anyway...

They are so strong, all of them--College Guy, his family and friends--in ways that I simply am not.  I'm sensitive, try to be careful with my words unless I'm super angry.  I'm artsy, understated, funny in a weird, obscure, campy way, or sometimes not funny at all.  I am a nurturer.  I want people to be okay.  And above all else, I want to be okay.

I don't know what's wrong with me these days.  I don't know why all I can do is compare myself to his family and friends (and especially his brother's girlfriend) and come up for air, lungs burning, head spinning, mind completely vegetable-like in almost every way.  What's wrong with me...is all I can think..and I don't want to lose him.  I love him.  But I don't trust him.  I don't trust that he really does like me, that he really does like who I am. It's such a lonely, scared, empty feeling.  


Crimson Moon--Saturday

We were both so tired this morning.  I had a noon date, however, so I woke at 11 a.m. and showered, dressing in long white stockings, a black and white flowery knit dress that clung to me, and black leather shoes.  College Guy woke soon after me and we both dragged ourselves into the main party room.  The Vendor's Fair was in full swing, and I had promised to do something called "Swats for Tots".  One of the main party leaders had organized a charity raffle of types, and people were paying a dollar a spank to spank or be spanked by various people.  I had been all excited about this event, and sort of nervous that maybe people would spank me with hard paddles and I would have a bruised sore bottom and not get to play the rest of the day.  However, it seemed like there were so many people offering to be spanked or to spank for dollars, that I wasn't needed at all.  So I actually didn't end up doing it.  College Guy and I browsed the vendor fair's items and bought two of the cheaper items.  We kept walking by the London Tanner booth, but we both knew it wasn't in the budget to get something like that.  Oh well.

I did end up buying a very cute tiny wooden paddle.  College Guy stuck it in his pocket and whenever he brought it out, people would comment, "Oh, that's a paddle for places other than bottoms."  I had definitely not bought it intending for it to be used other than on bottoms...but oh well.  I guess you learn something new everyday.  I had actually bought it because it was petite and cute, and if I ever topped a girl, I would like to use something small and easily handled like that.  I could just imagine using it on someone, and that's why I bought it.

We ended up wandering on the floors a bit and found one of the guys from the previous night who'd let College Guy try out his implements.  He was hanging out in Dr. L and T's room with a new girl who'd just come for the day and was leaving that night whom I'll call AL.  Dr. L and T left their room to us to babysit while they went and shot some videos, and we ended up just chatting about random spanko stuff.

AL was so much fun, definitely one of my favorite people to hang out with this weekend.  It wasn't long before I said something bratty to College Guy, and since I was already feeling comfortable having my bottom bared in front of the guy from the night before, I layed my brattiness on extra thick.  So College Guy took me over his lap and spanked me in front of the guy and AL.  Then, all of a sudden, things progressed in our chatting and somehow AL ended up over the ottoman in the middle of the room, with the one guy giving her some spanks.  She was the type of girl that argued during a spanking--so cute!  And, then, before I knew it, College Guy had jumped in with a "You're not done yet." And he gave her some spanks as well.

If College Guy cares about anything, he cares about arguing and being right.  So I found it hilarious that as he spanked AL over the ottoman, he argued right back and told her how whatever comment she had made was wrong, etc.  Not in a mean way of course, but in a playful way.  Part of me was so proud of him, and part of me thought he was weird for caring so much about arguing while he was spanking her.

A little later J from the night before popped in the room and he already knew AL.  So he gave her an OTK spanking right there while we all watched.  The one thing I found slightly disconcerting during this party and never quite got over was how suddenly someone could go over someone else's lap and how awkwardly entertaining it all was to sit there and get to watch the proceedings.  I always had tiny feelings of embarrassment and that maybe the spankee would like us to all walk away and let them enjoy their spanking without our prying eyes.  Still, I loved watching.

After an hour or so, we migrated to a room across the hallway.  I call this room, "the room where all the women flung themselves over College Guy's lap".  We walked in on a girl being spanked by a certain guy, and I had already known from fetlife that these people were a couple.  But then the girl asked College Guy to spank her, and suddenly, one after another, all the women in the room took turns getting spanked by College Guy. AL went over his lap again as well, and he pulled out my liny little wooden paddle I had bought at the Vendor's Fair and used it on her.   I got spanked by the one guy in the room that we had walked in on while he spanked someone, just a light hand spanking. The girl he had been with handed him a paddle and he said something like "Nope, I just can't use that." I have no idea why he wanted to be so nice to me.  It was actually sort of aggravating.

We all went to dinner together and ended up sitting at a table with LilyStar, R, J who had spanked me the night before, A, and then there was College Guy, AL and me.  Towards the end of dinner, one of the main leaders of Crimson Moon was given a gift and made a speech about one of the leaders from years past who had died last year.  It was pretty awful, watching this tough dude try not to cry as he talked about his friend and how much he cared about this community.  I think I'll always remember sitting at that table and watching that speech.

Earlier in the day, I was feeling particularly "school bus driver-ish" and had mentioned to J that after he had stopped spanking AL and left the room, she had confided in me that "He really took it easy on me." AL had screeched at me that I was a horrible brat and she hated me, but I just grinned. ( I know, dear readers, your own sweet...cough...Bonnie-jo.) So, right before dinner, J had put AL on a bed and strapped her with his belt.  However, there had been a mishap and she had kicked her foot up right when he was coming down.  Alas, her foot had been hit, and he had felt terrible about it, although he still tried to act a bit stern about it, telling her, "You need to be more careful about your feet."

Anyway, so at dinner, I brought up the fact that he had hit her feet, trying my hardest to get him to continue to feel bad about it (I know, I'm a sadist in my own way.) He really didn't seem to feel sorry anymore, so I went another route.  I teased him that maybe he'd hit her foot because he needed a new glasses prescription, since he wore glasses and all.  I also teased him that the night before when he had spanked me while LK watched, he didn't start spanking hard until LK arrived.  So I told him that he had abused my bottom just because he had wanted to impress his audience. He told me that I was getting spanked again, and AL nodded at his decision and told him he was doing the right thing.  AL told him that I was a brat and really needed a spanking.  I told him that it took a brat to know a brat....and the conversation went downhill from there, with AL and I getting ourselves into more and more trouble, and College Guy mainly looking on and supporting the fact that J should spank us and that we deserved it.

People started to leave the dinner area, and Naughty Freckles made the announcement that any and all willing and strong gentlemen would be most welcome to help her move the tables and chairs around for the soon-to-happen Miss OTK Contest.  College Guy and J got up to help move chairs, and AL and I saw our moment to escape their clutches.  We ran towards the door, looking for the trash can.  J was somehow at the door, sort of guarding it.  "Are you two trying to run away?" He asked.  "Oh no, we're trying to find trash cans. Do you know where one is?" I replied. We put our plates in the trash, and then somehow, we slipped out the door without anyone seeing us.

We raced out the door, and then for want of a plan, we stopped off in the reception area outside the party room.  I think we really didn't want to "hide" that well.  We just wanted to make an attempt for it and then get caught and carted off for our spankings.

However, that was not to be the case.  Because P who had spanked me the very first night rounded the corner, and seeing us sitting there, said, "Hey, I need someone to spank. Are you girls busy?"

Lol, that was a pick up line from the hood, if I ever did hear one.  But I liked how P spanked, and I knew he had a huge reputation at this party.  It seemed like he never had a free moment. There was always someone playing with him.  And I had heard that he was a very hard player.  Up on the 6th floor where we had met before, there was an entire collection of London Tanner implements, probably about 15-20 in all, hanging, foreboding and beautiful in a special implement carrier.  I had been told by other girl's that I could ask P, and he would give me the "Tour of London".  I told College Guy, "I really want to do that." But he had given me a doubtful look and reminded me that I needed my butt to last all day because there were a lot of other people I'd want to play with besides P.  Which was true, of course.

Anyway, the other problem was that College Guy had told me before the party that one of his rules was that I would let him know where I was if I was going to go off with some guy.  But I kind of forgot that in the process of trying to run away from him and J.  I fumbled a quick text to College Guy as I rode the elevator with AL up to the 6th floor.

(To be continued...)