Hey, everybody. Nope, I'm not dead. College Guy and I are still together and happy. We are both still spankos (I don't think the essence of that could ever change).  I need to change my blog's name at some point, since I am no longer a "college spanko" and I don't know what to change it to, so that remains the same for now.

I get overwhelmed with how disjointed my life feels, while at the same time it is wonderfully comfortable, lovely, and peaceful. I suppose before I was living away from College Guy and bouncing between my part-time job and college schedule while trying to get some sleep at night, and all I had to think about was nightly conversations with College Guy and emails to My Magician. Now, everyday life as complete and full-blown spankos has become normal and not a once-every-couple-of-months indulgence plus webcamming extras.

Updates are in order. First of all, let's talk about the having sex department. I have still not had vagina +penis sex. But I have been making progress and so has College Guy in helping me. One day, probably more than 2 months ago, back when we first started having College Guy put his finger in me, I had a realization. "Could we try it with me over your lap?" I asked him. It wasn't an initial success, of course. But it got better, and one of the reasons it got better was College Guy announced "I've decided I need to do this to you once every day." My reaction was not entirely pleased, but I wasn't opposed enough to fight about it, at least not much.  And now, sometimes, in the middle of an OTK spanking, I find myself spreading my thighs quite consciously and hoping he understands what I'm asking for. Some days it's alright and some days it still hurts some. But it's progress. And mentally, I'm much much more okay with it.

Although College Guy may be a creature of habit when it comes to poptart breakfasts, he is no such thing when it comes to being sexual or dommy. About a week ago, I was having a bit of a bad day. I was PMS-ing without realizing it, getting mad at silly things and feeling like crying, and on the way up to our apartment complex, I lightly slapped College Guy on his chest while taking issue with something he was saying. I have had a problem in the past with slapping him, not hard of course, but he hates it. I didn't even think about what I had done until I had set my purse down inside and took my jacket off. He didn't say a word. Just walked me over to the corner by our front door and placed my hands on my head. As I heard him quickly move the books, magazines, and random junk cluttering or little square table, my heart sunk. I was in no mood for a caning.

He soon brought me out of the corner, sat down and pulled me to him. I remember feeling way too close and him unzipping my pants. I helped him tug them off, slipped out of my panties, and he led me to the table on which he'd placed a pillow. He firmly pushed my hands down on either side of the table, wordlessly letting me know not to move them. I knew I'd disobey that command in seconds, since my favorite position while being caned is one hand holding the table and one hand over my mouth so I don't have to worry about neighbors hearing my squeals.

I knew it was going to be a bad caning because I went into it feeling nothing. If I can't get the slightest bit turned on or mentally excited about the d/s aspect of a spanking, then it's going to HURT like the dickens. I felt more like some adult who was going to be punished, like some kind of physical form of a speeding ticket. I did feel guilty. But excited? No.

The first couple of strokes were really bad, although I can tell when he's just warming up and trying to feel out where I am. He'll have a really hard stroke or two and then a couple that are not so bad. But the lighter ones were also making me want to cry really hard, and the fact that  I felt so out of control of my reaction and the pain made me start crying almost instantly. I pushed off the table after only 3 or 4 strokes and ran for my bed, dove into it, and sobbed. College Guy pulled my hands away from my eyes, but I kept them mostly shut, just open enough to let my tears out. "Look at me." "Look at me now, Bonnie-jo." He kept saying. I fought him off a bit, trying to cover my face again, but to no avail. Finally, I wiped at my face and squinted at him, trying to catch my breath. I felt guilty, but terribly angry, both at myself and at him. I can't run away from a spanking. That's not how we work, and I knew it. But why did he have to persist in this when he knew I was in such an emotional mood?

"You're going to be okay." He told me. "But you will get your butt back over that table. Do you understand?"

"It was really hurting!"

"I know. Get back over."

"Please can't we do this tomorrow."


"Okay." I say. And I do.

 Then I run back to the bed and cry more. I sense College Guy sitting next to me. "Do you want to be alone right now?" He asks. I nod "Uhhhmm-hmmm!"

And he lets me alone. It's not like him to not hover over me like some kind of mama bear, so the mere fact that he's exercising self control in this way helps me calm down. In minutes, I've dried my eyes, caught my breath, and have cuddled up next to him on our love seat. Movie time.

But this wasn't really the story I wanted to tell. The story I wanted to tell more is Part II.

We'll save it for the next time I post, shall we? :)