12.01.2012

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. 

11.15.2012

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.


10.13.2012

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.  

9.25.2012

Tutoring

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. 

9.17.2012

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.  

8.24.2012

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...)




8.18.2012

Crimson Moon, Day 2, part 2

It was Friday night, and College Guy and I piled into one of the car of the guys we'd been eating pizza with.  I remember being super impressed by his music choices as we drove back to the hotel.  Very BDSM-ish.  There was one song he played especially for us and we all marveled at the words and how well they went with the theme of the weekend.

We got back to the hotel just in time for Spanking Court to start.  I arrived extremely stressed and squirmed on my chair during the whole thing because I was sure I had been written up for something.  This same morning a newly made friend and I had played a prank and hidden something that we were sure would be missed in the party room.  As I sat there and watched the hilarious and cutesy scenes enfold and person after person was spanked in the middle of the room while the people playing the judge and defense attorney looked on (Tubaman being the judge and Sarah Gregory being the defense attorney), I grew less and less excited about being spanked in front of everyone in public.  There was a variety of people being spanked.  Some people weren't funny and just took their spanking with a smile.  One guy was told he was not guilty and could go sit down, but he said something like "Your honor, please, I would like to take my punishment anyway." Everyone giggled.  One guy didn't react to his spanking at all, and it was clear that he was not sorry at all. I loved his attitude and clapped really hard for him.  But most of the girls who were brought up for spankings had hilarious comebacks or cute, scared, pouting faces.  I knew that was not me.  At least not in public.  So I fidgeted and sweated in my seat, hoping against hope they wouldn't call my name.

And you know what? They didn't.  All that worry for nothing.  My bratty friend that I had gotten in trouble with had known the whole time that our names had been taken out of the batch of people to be spanked, but she hadn't told me this.  Now that, folks, is truly evil. Lol.  I will have to get her back somehow at a later date.

Anyway, the two guys that College Guy and I had ridden back to the hotel with from the pizza place had asked College Guy if he wanted to come over to their suite and try out their collection of implements.  In our conversation earlier while waiting for our pizza, they had been listing all the implements they brought, and it was very apparent that they had way more implements than College Guy and I.

Of course, College Guy agreed and, well, I knew that "trying out implements" would only mean that I had to be there too.  So I followed them into their suite and realized that this was an interesting situation  and the kind I'd always wanted to be in.

The wanton voyeur in me was definitely excited by the next hour or so.  I've always wanted College Guy and another guy to spank me together, or College Guy to watch while I was spanked by another guy, etc.  Guys get excited by the idea of being with two girls...well...I'm no different.  :)  Anyway, the two guys were very respectful, and that helped so much.  A large part of the time I laid (or squirmed) over a couple of pillows on the bed and they pulled out random straps and implements, talked about them to College Guy (kind of like they were describing some new tool they were going to use to fix a car...) and then College Guy would give me a 1-5 swats with it.  There were a lot of implements.  I knew this fact, and still wanted to have a bottom left to play with into the night-time hours, so I played up being very sensitive and tender.  College Guy took it easy on me, and that made the hour extra nice.  The guys showed him how to use a flogger, something he'd never used before.  When I was a little spanked out and there weren't many implements left, one of the guys asked me if I wanted to try out some real handcuffs, since he was a cop and had some handy.  I was so excited!! Part of me has always wanted to be arrested just so I could try out some real handcuffs.

The handcuffing was so cool.  The cop was gentle (and afterwards, whenever I talked the cuffs up to College Guy, he reminded me "He was going easy on you. If you were really arrested it wouldn't feel that nice.") The cuffs could be adjusted to how slim your wrists are, which is a good thing because my wrists are smallish.  He had a key, and he let me keep them on for awhile, just so I could fiddle with them and actually try to slip them off myself.  I love trying to get out of things.  It's so rewarding when you can take something off that is confining you.  And it's also so nice when you can't.   But the cuffs, obviously, were impossible to slip out of.

We left those guys' room with me floating on all the attention I had just received.  I felt so very guilty though, that College Guy had still not spanked any girls besides the one girl who had come with P.  I had just spent another hour being given attention and affirmation, and he had been stuck with me, the same girl he'd spent a whole year spanking , and now here he was again, still stuck with me.  I apologized to him, asking him if he was okay.  But he said he was and that he had had fun.

We went back to our hotel so that I could change into more comfortable clothes and change my panties...necessary...and then we went back to the main suite on the 6th floor.  I was so tired by this point.  We were small talking in the room when a guy started talking to us about random stuff and before I knew it, I had agreed to let him spank me.  I told College Guy that he didn't need to come along, but he came just the same.  The guy took us to his suite, and College Guy and I were surprised to see people that we already knew hanging out in this new guy's suite.

I'll just do the initial thing and call him J. So J took me to the bed area of the suite while College Guy stayed out in the couch area and talked with the people he knew.  LK from the girl/girl party was there, and so was Naughty Freckles and some others.

J took me by surprise by sitting on the bed and then fixing me with a very toppy look.  He told me that we were going to have a safe word and he and I quickly discussed what implements I wanted or didn't want.  Then before I knew it, he had reached out for me and began unzipping my short shorts.  This was actually kind of weird for me, and I had a fleeting thought, hoping that College Guy wasn't going to get mad at anything this guy did.  I had to actually concentrate on not turning around and seeing if College Guy was watching and if he was okay.   No one had yet unzipped my clothes and pulled anything down. It's a very intimate feeling.  I realized no has ever done that to me except for my magician and College Guy in my whole life.

J spanked firmly but slowly with his hand, just feeling me out.  I had my eyes closed but when I opened them randomly I saw he was watching me intently, gauging my reactions.  A couple more spanks and I heard movement to my right.  LK had come over and was curled up on the other bed, "I hope you don't mind an audience" she told me.  So I told her I didn't, and we began discussing random matters.  I really liked LK from the first moment I had started talking with her at the girl/girl party.  She was so young and pretty, but she didn't seem stuck on herself at all, just real and fun loving.  We kept up our conversation for awhile, and then suddenly I realized that I was still over J's lap, but that he wasn't spanking me anymore.  He was just sitting there with an odd smile on his face, letting LK and I talk.  What a gentleman.

But I'm bratty to gentleman.  It's how I pay them for being so nice...lol. I don't remember exactly what I said to him, probably something about how nice he was to let us dictate just when he should or shouldn't spank me and how girl talk is much more important than getting spanked and he was astute to realize this.  Whatever I said, he went into full beat down-mode.  It wasn't long before he grabbed a hairbrush and I was soon squirming to get away.  But he was a tall guy, and he easily pinned me down.  I guess I started making some noise because soon College Guy had joined LK on the bed and asked me if I was okay.  I was but I was already close to trying to use my safeword.  The best way I can describe J's spanking was that he spanked a lot like College Guy does.  There was the beginning of the spanking, which is supposedly a warm up, but which is more of a fake-spanking to get you to relax and think that this is going to be a "nice spanking".  It hurts a little, just enough to tease you and make you squirm a tiny bit. And then the next part of the spanking is so fast and intense you don't know what hit you. Lol.  But I didn't safeword and he went on to give me some strap licks which, of course, were somewhat nicer than the hairbrush.

After my spanking, J, LK, College Guy, Naughty Freckles and I sat around in the suite and just small talked into the wee hours of the night.  T and Dr. L found us at some point and so did A, the main friends we'd eaten pizza with.  T found a bottle of unopened wine in the hallway and invited everyone to brave some "hall wine" explaining she hoped it wasn't poisoned.

We chatted in that way people do when they are excited, very sleepy, but don't want to go to bed and give up the night. Dr. L spanked A a bit and T took LK over her lap.  Naughty Freckles, since she was a switch and told us she was feeling very toppy,  kept batting her eyelashes at College Guy and pouting, trying to coerce him over her lap.  She must have asked him 10 times that night, but he kept telling her no and smiling at her antics.

We finally said goodnight to all.  And we slept well that night.  What a day it had been.

8.02.2012

Crimson Moon, Day Two, Part 1

We woke up bright and early and had our free continental breakfast.  The party room opened at something like 9:00 a.m., I forget exactly.  The time it opened was inconsequential, because absolutely no one but College Guy and I ventured in that early.  Other than joining with a couple of other brats in a small early morning prank, the details of which I will not mention because it could possible give away who I am..., the morning dragged a bit.  College Guy and I visited the local mall and bought a couple toiletry items I had forgotten because I always forget things on trips.

At 1:00 p.m. I went off to the Girl/Girl Spankfest up in the same suite we had played in the night before.  College Guy went off to grab a beer with a couple of other tops.  So manly, drinking beer...Anyway, the Girl Party went well, although I did not spank anyone or get spanked.  I guess I was too busy chatting people up and watching others do their thing.  And oh, there were some sights to be seen.  Some of the guys had joked that they had placed tiny cameras behind pictures on the wall and that a large group of them were smoking cigars in the other room and watching us.  If they had been doing that (which they surely were not), I'm sure they would have been enjoying themselves immensely.

I was a bit nervous about the Girl Party because I'm an almost strictly straight girl.  If I have any bi in me, it's just a little tiny bit.  But I got to actually make friends with girls my age that I would end up spending time with during the rest of the party, namely A and LK.  We spent time crosslegged on the floor huddled in a corner, just small talking about ourselves, our relationships, how certain types of guys throw us off, and what we love about all of this spanking stuff. It made me feel like I really belonged, at least a little.

College Guy texted me towards the end of the Girl Party that his hand was "getting twitchy".  I went in search of him, knowing that if he was stooping to Fifty Shades of Grey speak, then he must be getting twitchy indeed.

College Guy was so patient during these first couple of days.  It's hard when you're an unknown top and you aren't in that perfect 30 -- 40 age range when it seems that all the girls flock to you because you're all scary and authoritative and stuff.  So, at this point in the party, he had still only spanked me.  We needed to make friends with some girls, and we needed to make them before this second party day was over.  I could tell that he was feeling a bit annoyed at how hard it was to break into a group and just spank a girl. He was talking to them easily, but spanking them is definitely a step up.  I would not want be a new top at a party like that.  So I just want to point out that I thought he did a great job.

I had made friends at the Girl Party, but I didn't have any of their suite numbers or cell numbers.  So we went pacing the floors, trying to catch someone familiar and find out where the party was at.  I saw an acquaintance from the night before, and I asked her if she knew where A was at.  She did!!

And after that first awkward question and awkward poking of our heads into the room A was in, it was all downhill from there.  Because A was in none other that Dr. L's and T's suite, and I had already briefly talked to Dr. L on fetlife.  We hung out in there and traded Bible School stories, since we had both been former Bible College dropouts.  He asked if he could paddle me and do some sort of Bible College roleplay, and I agreed.  Sadly, this week was so busy that the roleplay never happened. Ah well. Next time!

Dr. L and T were rooming with P and BC, so they were scurrying around in the room trying to get unpacked.  Before I knew it, I was over P's lap for a hard hand spanking.  I had made the mistake of making faces at P the night before during a spanking from a  kind older gentleman.  I had been really, really bored as he he gave the lightest hand spanking I'd ever received in my life.  P had been sitting on the opposite bed, spanking some poor girl.  But, after she got off his lap, he sat there and watched me as I almost fell asleep across this older gentleman's lap. So I made faces, yawned, gagged, etc.  I was bored.

Well, P's spanking was definitely not boring, and he kept moving me slightly on his lap, flipping my legs up onto the bed, etc, so that I felt that slight feeling of powerlessness that adds so much to a spanking.

After he was through with me, he asked College Guy if he would like to spank the beautiful BC, his partner at theparty.  Of course, College Guy agreed, and BC was his first spankee besides me.  I leaned back on the wall and just watched them.  It was the first time I'd ever witnessed College Guy spanking anyone, and I liked the sight.

We were invited to join the group for some good classic Chicago pizza, and the whole ride there and the during the hugely long wait to be seated, I couldn't help giggling and jumping about inside, thinking "We're with a group!  We are actually with a spanking group and these people are talking to us!!"

I know everyone must say the same thing, but Dr. L and T are probably the cutest and most approachable spanko couple I have yet met.

Finally, we piled back into our vehicles to try to get back in time for the ever hilarious Spanking Court, and I shall now save the rest of Day Two for next time. :) Too-da-looo. 

7.31.2012

Crimson Moon (pt.1) (aka Schoolgirl Party)

The secret is out.   I went to Crimson Moon in Chicago!  It was the largest CM they have had yet, so large in fact that they had to turn people away.  Next time, many people suggested, we should just rent out the entire hotel and not have to worry about the "s word" being proclaimed at the breakfast tables.

Anyway, I was in a very uncomfortable mood days before the party.  I guess there is nothing like pressure and the suggestion of partial nudity to make me freak and become sure I am ugly.  As I blogged earlier in the week, I was afraid that no one would be interested in spanking me. Well...that wasn't the case. :)

We left on Thursday and I drove.  College Guy didn't mind letting me, and focusing on the road helped me keep my mind off the huge uncertainties in the looming future.  The last 5 minutes or so of our drive however, I was having trouble following my GPS and I kept freaking out at tiny things, like stopping at stop signs and getting into the correct lane.  We were almost there!!

We went to the Newbie Orientation, and as I sat at a table full of mostly girls, I realized that I was in the right place.  The girls were shy, quiet, but quick to laugh.  And as one of them was pulled up front for a quick demonstration involving a wooden paddle, everyone began to loosen up.

The guy running the orientation made some disparaging comments about a specific sports team, and then he asked if there were any new people who were fans of that particular sports team.  It was one of those moments where anyone in their right mind would not have raised their hand.  But what the heck, I was giddy already from being around so many spankos, and I was sure other girls at the table would lead the way or at least, follow my lead. So, up my hand went. I waited a beat, and about two guys from another table also raised their hands.  I put my hand down quickly.  College Guy smirked at me, "You don't even know who that sports team is...name some players. " I pouted back, "I know but I thought it was a joke.  I thought other people would join me. "  I blushed and hoped the guy running the orientation wouldn't remember my boldness later.  And I also hoped he would.

The first day was hard, as we knew basically no one there.  We had both talked to a couple of people on fetlife, but that isn't the same as actually knowing someone beforehand. So the first couple of hours, College Guy and I mainly tried to be friendly and watch and learn.  Not long after the orientation, people were leading others back into the party room's spanking booths, and loud sounds of slapping began to fill the room.

I felt like my shell broke a little bit at the school girl ice breaker.  A bunch of other girls and I sat on benches and generally goofed off.  We were in front of the rest of the party goers, so I found it easy to focus on being a child. I giggled and chewed gum and popped the bubbles that some naughty girl had blown.  I almost didn't need the spanking aspect to enjoy this sort of roleplay.

But girls were getting pulled up to the front of the room to get spanked by people dressed as nuns, teachers, rabbi's, etc.  And I knew it would probably be my turn soon.

The gum was what did it.  The guy who had been running the orientation pulled me up to the front and put my hands on the table. He scolded me for the gum chewing and slapped my bottom hard.  I couldn't stop giggling.  "I don't have the gum anymore. I swallowed it!" I defended. But then a couple of spanks later, I confessed, "Actually I'm still chewing it." He didn't spend long with the hand swats and was soon pummeling me with a round paddle. It hurt!!! I wiggled a lot and was for a quick instant was afraid I was going to actually try to get away and somehow roll off the table in front of everyone.  But then it was over.

One of my school girl friends gave me a whoopee cushion, and since I'd been spanked, I was now in the mood to use it.  So I placed it on the seat of the next girl in front of me who was coming back to sit down after being spanked.  And it was non other than LilyStarr!  I know I'm bragging, sort of, because I got to meet her and even prank her, but the truth is,  I actually felt true guilt later, especially since LilyStarr has been one of my spanking favorites to watch.  So minutes later, I leaned over and tried to apologize.  She gave me a look and then hopped out of her seat, told the prefect on me, and sat back down, snubbing her nose in the process.  Ohh my!!! I had no idea that was about to happen.  I was handed over to the prefect for another spanking.  Then later, I got in trouble for shooting a nurf gun, and the teacher who had placed me in the corner saw I was chewing gum again and delivered me to the Nun.  The Nun made me spit the gum in her hand.  I was mortified and intrigued.  Then she stuck the gum on my nose and spanked me, warning, "If that gum falls of your nose, you are in  trouble. " Her manner and role-playing were so perfect.  I think hers was definitely my favorite spanking of the scene.

Afterwards College Guy and I lingered and helped put the chairs in the room back together and tried to small talk with more people since we still hardly knew anyone.  Then we headed up to the 6th floor and found a suite party that someone sitting next to College Guy had suggested we join.

At first, we just sat and talked, and I watched a girl get strapped hard on the bed closest to us.  Then College Guy pulled me onto the far bed and spanked me over his knee.  I apologized to the girl getting strapped on the other bed and said "If I kick you, it's not my fault, it's his fault for spanking me."  I felt embarrassed with this first public spanking from College Guy, and I felt oddly bratty, so I complained the whole time that it hurt, kept asking him to not go to hard and basically squealed like a little girl. It didn't last for long, but it was a good intro spanking.

Later, the guy that had been strapping the other girl asked if I wanted to try a strap out.  They were all London Tanners, so of course I did want to.  He showed College Guy how to swing one, and College Guy strapped me some, and then the guy took over and started using a couple more.  After each thwack, or however you type a strap sound, I would suck in my breath and just feel the sting.  It was very addictive, but at the same time, overwhelming.

I got a glass of wine with a girl I had just met, and we stood around and gabbed about our favorite implements and spanking life in general.  It was good girl talk, even though College Guy and another guy  were listening in and giving us their two cents.  We ended the night sometime around 1:30 a.m., and College Guy and I climbed into our giant king bed.  "Happy Vacation!" College Guy and I murmured sleepily to one another before drifting off.  I woke up every two hours or so, I was that excited, my brain neurotically recalling faces and names and conversations, trying to remember everything for the days ahead.


7.22.2012

Pre-party Jitters

So I'm having pre-spanking party jitters like crazy.  I've read other's blogs and about how nerve wracking the days before a party are, but I didn't realize I would feel like this.  I feel like maybe I don't belong at the party College Guy and I are driving to.  I get on fetlife and look at all the humongous threads associated with this party, and its daunting.

I went shopping today for panties, a white shirt to go with my school girl skirt, and some dresses.  And I found myself trying on a size large dress, because the medium one was just too sexily tight.  I don't want the people at this party to think I'm slutty.  I especially don't want to look like I think I'm entitled to a spanking or that I will do anything to get one...ohhh...this is all just so hard.

I saw a picture of one girl on fetlife, and the picture is of basically her vag and her asshole.  And she's going to this spanking party.  I can't say I wish I were that brave (and that College Guy would allow me to to post pictures of my anatomy...because I don't....) but I wish I knew what would get me accepted.  This same girl is talking to College Guy on fetlife about the party.

I basically had to talk College Guy into going to this party.  Now, he has made friends with at least 2 girls going to it, and all of the guys that I've attempted to befriend brush me off like a pesky saleslady.  They all tell me to say hi and introduce myself to them, but do they want to talk at all further?  No.

I'm worried about so many things.  I could hardly even sleep last night.  What if I don't like spanking anymore? What if I'm too nervous to be normal and to laugh and joke, etc....What if College Guy is an awful top because he's so used to spanking me and I don't judge harshly when a cane stroke goes awry? What if no one wants to spank me because I'm young and sort of pretty so they think I'm going to be a brat and stuck up? What if College Guy gets superbly jealous and doesn't let anyone spank me in their hotel room and I'm stuck getting spanked with tons of people watching at all times? What if I don't make a single female friend there because I'll be feeling so competitive and lustful for male attention that I tune the women right out?  What if, what if...what if ????

I'll be okay.  Of course I will be.  I indulged in retail therapy and now I am chilling on my couch with a movie.  I will be hitting the gym a lot of course.  It's just all this waiting.

I have the sickening feeling that it's much better to be a single girl at a spanking party.  Because even though people know that someone's boyfriend is okay with her playing with you, the guy has to feel a kind of pressure to watch himself and play extra carefully.  I don't want extra careful.  I want real.

Also, when College Guy started talking online to a couple girls going to the party (and I told him he should do this, it was more my idea than his) I was unprepared for how stressed it made me feel.  But  I know I can trust him not to start sex chatting them, etc, so I don't know why I'm so stressed and sickened.  I guess I can't be glad for his happiness very easily.  And I really should be able to do that.

I think that if someone had responded to my messages in a friendly way and had wanted to dig deeper and get to know me a little, I would be happy for College Guy's conquests. But not now.  Darn men at parties.  I am going to be such a brat they won't know what hit them. :)

At least, I hope I will...


7.13.2012

To Win or Not to Win, That is the Question

I told College Guy when I first met him that I liked the idea of fighting a spanking.  I liked the idea of being hard to handle. I wanted to make him work to get me, for him to be strong and then to be rewarded for his efforts.  I wanted a strong guy that could win, and I wanted to be the prize.

But that doesn't mean that I never want to win.  When we have arguments or discussions, I still want to be right. That doesn't change.  When I tell him my opinion, I want him to agree with me.  When I want to watch the movie I want to watch, I want to watch it.  And when he starts spanking me really hard, and I ask if this can't please be a fun spanking and not too hard , I want him to say yes.  I want him to give me what I want. I want to be happy.

And I win often. Perhaps that means I'm spoiled. But I like it.

There's another side to this "winning" thing, and I'm not sure how to go about explaining it.  It has to do with my weird way I relate to most of the  girls I have ever known.  I think something sort of traumatic (just a little, haha)  happened to me in 7th grade, and I can easily get stuck back into that junior high mindset.  I never really left it.  Back in 7th grade, I remember that suddenly there were cool girls and uncool girls. (Look, I realize this was forever ago, and probably for most it started in much younger years. But I think it affected me , and I was somewhat of a late bloomer socially.) There were girls who talked about boys, tried to get boyfriends, and wore clothes bought at the mall.  Then there were the fat girls and the nerdy girls. I wanted to be in the cool category so badly, but instead of even attempting to do so, I made friends with the outcasts.  I told myself that the outcast group was just as good as the cool one, but what I really believed was something completely opposite: I believed that the cool group was made up of people I could never be friends with, and furthermore, I believed that they were somehow partially inhuman or messed up morally.  They were cruel people who couldn't possibly have good emotions or feelings and they were not to be trusted. So began a lovely adult life....

Now I've never quite had this problem with guys, although I suppose a lot of the hot or handsome guys I've known have been stuck in the cool, "immoral" category as well.  There was a day when I would never talk to a guy if he was handsome. It just was not something I felt qualified to do.

My mom used to tell me, "You are the prettiest girl in your entire school, it's just that you don't wear your clothes tight or the amount of makeup  a lot of the girls wear." While she was overdoing it about being the prettiest, she was correct in her style assessment.

So now I am an adult, and I wear tight clothes and makeup.  I know how to be at least somewhat "cool".  And yet, I still hate beautiful women with a passion.  I really do. Of the 3 small spanking parties I have been to, I felt like I was on the top of the totem pole, the youngest, thinnest, and most spankable at all three parties, or at least of two out of the three parties.  When I feel that way, I feel like I'm back in that crowd of outcasts. I am the cooler one in the group of uncools.  I relax, I smile, I have fun.  But stick me in a group of hot women and I hate them internally and clam up.  I hate this. But it's what I do.

If you are fatter than me, chances are I will be your friend.  And, since America is full of those who are at least slightly overweight, it's not really hard to find friends like that.

But I know something deep is wrong with me and with how I view things.  I have always felt like an artist at heart. I love movies. I love books and music and theatre. In these things, the more beautiful and "perfect" the subject, male or female, the more I love them.  I love beautiful and gorgeous actors, singers, dancers, etc.  Why oh why can't I love them also in real life?

I could go on and on about this in the disjointed way I am writing. Sorry, everyone, but I have decided that I am going to write when I feel like writing, even if its about something non spanko. So this first entry is an example of what things might get down to.  Hope you're as excited as I am...

The thing is, I'm going to a larger spanking party, with lots of young people, in the near future.  I just don't know how I'm going to handle girl bottoms there who are as desirable (or probably more so) than myself.  Oh, well, I' ve got to learn how to handle this one day.  I've got to get out of 7th grade and begin living like an adult. I've got to learn to love people and to love beautiful ones, in reality, and not just ones in my own head. I've got to realize that beauty is not something to be had. Beauty is something to recognize and pass along and to share. Maybe.


6.19.2012

Difficulty Writing

I honestly don't know why I can't blog, but I just can't right now.  College Guy is with friends and I've been watching a show on netflix called "Kink". It's fairly good although there definitely isn't enough spanking in it.  It makes me want to share my thoughts with the world. I've started two blogs about two completely different things.  And I just can't finish them and put them out here for you all to see.

I don't know why I can't write.  Is it because I spend all day typing my boss' thoughts dictated through a headpiece?  I'm a legal secretary...is my job taking away my creativity? I don't know.  But I really don't think that is the answer.

Sometimes I think I'm unhappy in my relationship with College Guy, and that's the reason that I can't write and that I'm not creative.  That I'm afraid to open up myself and share because I don't know what's going to come out anymore?  And I'm afraid to let anything come out anymore?

But there are true things and false things in the above paragraph's implications.  I'm not unhappy with College Guy, at least not for the most part.  Most of the time, I'm extremely happy and content. I love him and I know I do.

Most times I feel so safe, and I really value feeling safe.  I value feeling safe above most things in the world.

I remember two summers ago, when I kind of got in the habit of meeting strange guys that I didn't know well, getting drunk with them and then getting into scary situations with them.  I remember after one scary encounter telling myself, "I don't care how boring my life gets, I will not, not, not ever get into situations where I am helpless ever again.  Not even if I have to sit home every night and read classical literature as my only entertainment."

Anyway, I'm rambling.  Sorry, lovely people.  The truth is, I am content and happy.

But I don't know where my fantasizing mechanism has gone....and well...I can't blog.  And I'm scared of what will happen if I try too hard.  I'm scared of what's down deep inside my head.  I'm scared of not being safe anymore.

On a more positive note, I will in a nutshell tell you what my two blogs were going to be about. Since I'm not being creative, here it is in a nutshell:

1. I had sex the other night and it was awesome.  Probably the best part was seeing how proud of himself College Guy was.  I, for one, can still not really believe that he was actually inside of me.  Yay for us! And yet part of me is dreading the fact that now that I've done it, I will have to do it again or else feel a failure.  And also, part of me is loving the challenge.

2. I think College Guy is becoming more dom-like.  I know I always say this, but he just is.  He has been forcing me to call him "Sir" basically whenever I'm over his knee.  I hate it but really do love it as well.  And we may start doing maintenance spankings, something I don't really want to do, since "maintenance" as a word sounds boring and chore-like.  But he said I may have no choice and have to accept them, and well, that is hot and awesome of course.

Signing out now...your own non-creative Bonnie-jo.
:p

5.30.2012

Thank you Sir

I love Wednesdays because it is Hip Hop Funk day at the YMCA. I go just about every week and bounce around with the other dancers, trying to look cool and get my moves right, and failing much of the time. But I am learning and getting some of the moves right and I do love it, so that's most of what counts, right?

The dance instructor is male, fit, really good at dancing and really loud as he shouts instructions into the microphone he wears. You can tell that most of the dancers in the room (all the women at least) are in awe of him. He makes jokes and they smile. He dances a certain way, or makes goofy sounds or expressions and they laugh. The classroom is usually made up of women and guys that I, in my limited knowledge, decide must be gay.

Sometimes we learn new dances. Most times we just go over old dances we learned months ago. Some of the "dances" are more like aerobics  with jumping jacks and punches and kicks thrown in. And as we leap and jump and try to breathe, the instructor counts like a drill sergeant, but instead of a scowl, there is the widest smile on his face. You can tell he loves teaching, loves Wednesdays as much as we do.

Sometimes a class member that he seems to know personally behind me or to the side of the room will get tired or just decide to stop dancing all together. The YMCA is a place where instructors end up getting to know people, so I can tell that he knows many people in the room. So, sometimes, when you can tell he knows someone and they start slacking off, he wipes the smile off his face and glares sternly at them, while the class titters and giggles in between their huffs and puffs and jumping jacks.

There's one dance we do just about every week, in which the instructor plays a drill sergeant pretty much the whole time. Towards the middle of the song, he tells us to "March!" which is a kind level down from the intensity that he had us at. Everyone sighs, catches their breathe and begins marching in place. But we all know what is coming, because after he says "March!" and we start marching, he always asks, "What do you say?? What do you say?" Then the whole class choruses, "Thank you, S----!" They don't really say "S", they say his name, which starts with an "S---", but I'm using that initial to protect the innocent. Anyway, since his name started with an "S----" and almost sounded similar to "Sir" , my first time experiencing this in the dance class, I was certain everyone was saying "Thank you, SIR!!!!" I blushed and tried not to say it and then (so thankful now that no one heard me, would chorus "Thank you, Sir" with the best of them.

I finally learned his name and that no one was saying "Thank you, Sir." Oh, what a let down.

Anyway, today in class, we did the usual dance where he said, "March!" And we said, "Thank you S---" and then he would say, "I didn't hear that. It wasn't loud enough. We are going to start from the top." Usually everyone groans and whimpers and moans and keeps going and then we dance and then he says "March!" We say, "Thank you, S----!" And once again he will say, "What do you say??" And so the cycle repeats, with him basically torturing us drill sergeant style. I used to think it was fun.

Then today I thought of something more fun. I wouldn't say it. I wouldn't thank him. What if he saw me?? I was all excited about the possibility of him seeing me, because well, who knows what would happen then? Well, sadly, in a room full of at least 40 people, he didn't notice my silence. Sad day...

But even though he didn't notice my rebellion, I felt awful for it only minutes afterwards. I imagined what it would have been like if the class had followed my lead, if we all had closed our mouths, and if his "What do you say?" had been met by an insolent silence. What if that was a wrap? What if that was the end of his fun what-do-you-say dance? It's not like he could force us to say it. The fact that we said it back to him made the game and the dance fun.

And then I realized part of the reason why I've always had trouble rebelling. I was not a rebellious child/teenager as a rule, but there have been one or two or three occasions in my life when I went all out and rebelled good and hard. Each time, I felt horrible for doing so, without anyone punishing me or making me feel horrible. And I realized today at least part of why rebellion made me feel bad. Because it worked. It worked for me. I was not punished for it. And if everyone had done it, then the dance would have been ruined. Because rebellion is powerful. Sometime it even does take power away from those you are rebelling against. I actually had power, and rebelling would bring that power to my attention.

And power scares the crap out of me. I want someone to follow or at least, to be able to count on, to be able to listen to when I don't know what to do or think. But I don't like this about myself, and I'd love to change it. What if I could trust myself to know what's best, at least most of the time? What if I could trust myself to rebel at the right times, against the right things, and say, I know that this is right and I will stand up for it no matter who is disappointed in me?




5.27.2012

His Hands

I've had a sort of hands fetish for a long time. This is something that can be very entertaining when sitting through long dull high school or college lectures. Even if the teacher or prof has old, stubby, grizzled hands, that's alright because there are plenty of other hands to look at and imagine that they are spanking hands.

College Guy and I have a picture on Facebook of me cuddled up against him, his hand around my shoulder. That hand is just about the first thing I look at when I see the picture. How his hand is capturing my shoulder perfectly, holding me against him. How it's relaxed but confident in its claiming of me.

Holding his hand while walking through the downtown streets of our city, watching him sleep in on a lazy Sunday morning one of his hands grasping the corner of our bed, his hand around both of my wrists, holding me captive with my legs above my head, pinned up like a pretzel,  while he spanks me hard and fast, one hand, grasping, strong, unyielding while the other stings and punishes. His hand on my head bringing it close to him, down, guiding my head towards him, then other times on my face, fingers cruel, steely, grasping, forcing me to look him in the eyes and tell him "Yes, Sir."  His hands supporting my shoulders, bringing me towards him, pressing me against him as he says, "You. Come here",  then as I lie on my stomach whimpering his hand trailing down to my butt, rubbing soothing, "You're okay, Bonnie-jo."


5.26.2012

The Basement

This post is a return to the past. To a weird occurrence in the past that I've never known what to think about. It confused me, and I return to it in my head occasionally.

My Magician, the older spanker I used to see but broke up with over a year ago, told me before I met up with him for the very first time, "I do not want sex. I will not want sex. If that is what you are looking for you can move on to the very many other men out there who are looking for it." I loved this about him. It made him safe.

The very last time I saw My Magician, he had been spanking me in various positions. It was late afternoon/early evening, and we had spent the entire day together, him showing me parts of his home city for the first time. We had been to an old mansion-museum, and he'd swatted me playfully in the stairwell in front of all the museum cameras. We'd seen the ocean. I'd been caned by one of those old-fashioned crooked school master canes in his office, with his secretary unknowingly working away on the other side of the door. We'd had breakfast together, lunch together, and we were just about to have dinner together.

But before dinner, we had a couple of hours set aside in which he would spank me in the hotel I was staying in. I don't remember a whole lot about this last spanking he would ever give me. I think I stood in the corner for awhile..maybe. I also remember giggling at everything he said or did. For some reason, his seriousness gave way to fits of silliness in me. Really, I was feeling him out. I wanted him to get serious and spank hard, so I did the opposite, hoping he would come to rescue me from my bratty giggling self.

I remember him looking perhaps a bit at a loss as to what to do with me. We didn't have a punishment spanking lined up because I hadn't done anything to be punished for. We didn't have a roleplay lined up either, and he knew I was wary of roleplaying. What I do remember is he had me lay facedown on the hotel bed and pulled up a chair so that he was sitting next to me, close, but far enough away so that I felt like I was some kind of patient in a doctor's office.

Then he blindfolded me, telling me that maybe this would help me calm down and stop thinking everything was so funny. He began giving me light swats very slowly and in between them, asked in a light, playful tone, "I want to know what Bonnie-jo thinks about when she is alone, all by herself, and thinks thoughts that get her hot and bothered?"

I shift on the bed slightly. What is he doing? What? Oh no, is he trying to push things to far? Of course he's not...what??

"What do you think about, hmm? "  His voice is teasing.

I don't answer for awhile. Instead I scrunch my face under the blindfold in awkwardness and disapproval. I don't want to be made to talk about this. Not in person. This is embarrassing and feels weird.

"I think about being spanked." I finally say, sort of uselessly. Then I shut my mouth. Just take that. That's all you need. Now be normal please.

His hand comes down hard on my bottom. Then it rubs just a little tiny bit, not enough to be erotic or anything, then it comes down again. I sigh in that way that means this is lovely.

But he seems to not be expecting me to speak. He continues as the hand spanking continues at a slower rate and I relax under it. His voice is almost hypnotic. I breathe deeply, in and out. I feel like I'm in some dark and huge cave. All alone with him.

"So you want to be spanked...and I know you want to be punished and punished hard." Oh, it's nice when he says that. "And who would be punishing you? A man, yes?" His hand comes down. Then there is nothing. Silence. His breathing mingled with mine. And darkness.

"Maybe a lover," he continues. Someone who knows you so well, maybe even better than you know yourself. Someone you trust so much that you let him see everything, everything you feel guilty for..." He continues the spanks randomly. They aren't hard and they are definitely not soft. And there's enough space between them to keep me wanting more.

But I don't like his soft voice talking about some mysterious lover and the spankings that lover will give me. His voice is lilting almost. But my mind is saying to myself, Why why why is he doing this? What does he want? Please don't want more than I can give! Because I just might give it to you anyway...

The monologue drones on and on, with me coming in and out of reality as his spanks mix with his words and become almost one. Then SLAP! His voice changes, it loses some of it's softness and its dreaminess. "Maybe, maybe what Bonnie-jo actually thinks about is someone spanking her, not a lover, but someone else. A man who does not know all parts of her. A man who cares and who punishes her. A man she can trust, an older man, maybe the neighbor next door...Someone you (and some point he stops saying "Bonnie-jo" and starts using "you") can open up to and feel like a little girl with. Someone who will spank your bare bottom, because that is the way you are punished when you are bad." SMACK! SMACK!

"Someone who will take you maybe, down to his basement and..." He suddenly drifts off and almost chuckles, the seductive voice gone. I start cracking up too, partly because I'm so relieved that the intensity of his speech and attitude has left.

"Sorry, sorry.." He says, clearing his throat, "Okay where was I?"

"The basement." I giggle. " You left off in the basement."

"Aha, right, the basement. Well.." I can hear him trying to compose himself and not chuckle again. "The point is that she, Bonnie-jo, can feel safe with this man." He begins the slow, moderate spanks again, and I breathe deeply and settle into them.

"He punishes her when he knows she needs it, and sometimes, just because he spanks her and he spanks her hard because he wants to and because she wants him to. Maybe he calls it a good girl spanking. Or maybe he just spanks her hard because he knows she needs to have her bottom spanked good and hard and long..."

And then there is no longer his hand but a small paddle or wooden bathbrush, I think it was, it's hard to remember, besides that fact that I was blindfolded. He continues the spanking, and even though it hurts a lot more because it's now wood, he still keeps the spanks slow.

And in my mind I'm spiralling. The monologue is making me feel incredibly turned on. And I'm not supposed to feel that way around him. But it's dark and we're in this cave and anything could happen. The story is my story. Except I'm not sure if the other players are real or imaginary, but as he speaks and continues on and on and on, detailing my feelings and desires, the swats falling softly on my bottom meet each word. Down deep, I'm terrified. And probably I'm also terrified that this may be the last time he will ever spank me.

The spankings stop. "I'm stepping out for just a minute, Bonnie-jo. Stay where you are."

But I don't stay. I can't stay. I have to be a brat and push him to spank me hard, to punish me. He must snap out of this weird seductive monologue. I must snap out of it. So as the door shuts behind him. I sit up, pull off the blindfold, and look around as the sun blinds my eyes.

He comes back into the room and gives me one quick look and all playfulness and lightness is gone. Thank God. The spanking towards the end of this post happens (click on the little blue word that says "post" in case you didn't see  this blog yet...).

At the end of that spanking I am very bruised but contented.

"I'm sorry," I tell him. "But I had to do something horribly disobedient."

"Why?"

"Because this may have been the last time you would spank me." My reason is true, but I don't tell him my other reason. And that reason is the following: because I was too afraid of that moment, that deep dark cave where anything could happen, and the lilting sound of his voice telling me exactly what I wanted and didn't want. Way too scary.

4.29.2012

Stay Very Still

I recently saw the optometrist and received a new contacts and glasses prescription. Seeing the dentist would have been a lot less stressful for me. I knew that they were probably going to blow that puff of air in my eyes and put drops in them to dilate them. Even though I wear contacts everyday, I still hate people putting things in my eyes or trying to do things to them while I stay still and try not to blink. It feels so invasive, uncomfortable, and scary.

Before I saw the actual optometrist, a female assistant measured my eyes. She told me to stay very still, and as I sat there, squirming and edgy, I asked "Is this the part where you blow air in my eyes?" I couldn't stay still thinking about it. "No, that's the next thing, " she replied. So I did stay still.

Then it was time for the air blowing. "Keep your head right in that position." "Umm..try not to move." "No...don't move your head away." "Yes, keep your head right there." "Please try not to move because I can't get a good view." "Uhmmm..." "Allright, just relax..." "No, don't move yet, try to stay still..." This went on for awhile as I stayed in the desired position for all of 2 seconds before I would see a bright light approaching my eyes which quickly resulted in a jerk of my head. I was almost giggling by how I kept jerking my head away from where she wanted it. It's like I had no way of controlling myself. I remember thinking,"I can't possibly do this because I'm not used to making myself do anything. I need someone to hold me here. Where are their restraints..." Hahah...

Finally she gave up on me. "We'll try again some other time..." she told me. I asked her later, when I was picking out frames if she was going to try again. "No, 'some other time' means like next year." She replied airily.

Then I saw the doctor himself. I like doctors, by the way. I like them a lot. I think one of the perfect spanking fantasies or role plays would be the doctor/patient one. Anyway, as I sat on the raised leather seat/table and he asked me questions about my eyes, I felt like fessing up right away and saying "I couldn't do the air blowing thing.  I'm sorry..." But I stayed quiet.

He asked if I had brought sunglasses with me, so that I could protect my eyes after he dilates them. I said yes, but began squirming inside. Great, great..eye drops. Sure I put my contacts in every day. But I so hate other people touching my eyes---

Without further ado, he leans over me, and I before I can think, he has lifted up my eyelid, BAM! one drop is in my eye. It is stinging like crazy, but before I can get more nervous and actually worry about holding still, he's lifted up my other eyelid. His finger slips a little, but he quickly moves it back and SLAM! the other eye is stinging and watering as well.

"The drops may sting a little," He warns me brusquely. "Here is a tissue for your face." My eyes are watering and dripping down my cheeks. I take the tissue and wonder how that all just happened.

I can't stay still. But he somehow managed within seconds to do exactly what he needed to.

Doctors get things done. I think they would be awesome spankers. 

3.16.2012

Protect Me, Spoil Me, Spank Me

Sometimes I feel horribly childish and spoiled.

And that's exactly how I wish I could live. Just like that. Childish and spoiled. That's my fantasy. That's what I've always wanted.

Before I was ever actually spanked, my fantasies weren't always about being spanked. I mean, they were, but my thoughts were more about what led up to the spanking, who did the spanking, how I was forced into the spanking, and the time after the spanking, when I was comforted. The percentage of time spent thinking about the spanking itself was very small in comparison. It was at least under 25% of my fantasy thought time. Probably much less than that even.

College Guy thinks maybe I don't want responsibility. Maybe that's true.

I want my magician back sometimes, because he is a full grown man and has kids of his own. Maybe I could be a child with him. But, I couldn't and I know it, or at least, I need to know it.. He wanted a woman all along. I could never trust him enough to be that child. I always kind of knew that. From the moment that he told me about previous email buddies of his, I knew what he was attracted to. There was the woman he told me about who wanted to be told to flirt with other men in the bar, to dance with them---all because the one man she was really with was forcing her to. " I bet you'd like doing something like that, Bonnie-jo. You'd be good at it." He told me once, when he first met me. I'd nodded and smiled, thinking to myself. "Sure, in your fantasies, I'd like that. Tell me more of what I'd be good at in your fantasies."

And, who knows, because he did plant many seeds in my brain. And that one grew on me too. It has haunted me since. Maybe I do want to go to a bar. Maybe I do want to flirt with a man there. Maybe I do want that man I'm flirting with to be hot and bothered, to want me. And then the man who owns me for the evening will come and cut things off short. Tell me that he needs to take me home with him, that he is going to take care of me tonight. Maybe I want that kind of protection. To flirt and dazzle and enchant and then to be taken home to somewhere safe. To Someone safe. How lovely would that be?

I would still get to be a child. There would be no danger involved. No consequences for actions, for flirtations, for being in a place where people are taken advantage of.

No, I would be protected, spoiled and well spanked. Perfect.


A Cane Breaking

It had been a long while since I had been spanked hard. I hadn't realized this until College Guy had me over his knee, my bottom bare. He spanked me lightly, taking his time, and the desire for punishment surged inside of me.   I can only compare this feeling and need to be hurt and hurt a lot to the need to orgasm, although the two are not really linked much. The intensity of feeling when starting down the road to either of those is what links the two.

I wanted him to be in control so badly that if he wasn't going to be, he might as well have stopped spanking me right then and there.

So, I pushed away his hand and whimpered, trying to make it look like I was not in the mood. He asked "What? What's wrong?" in a kind tone. "Nothing!" I said in a small voice. He started peacefully spanking me again. I was lying on our bed and he was sitting next to me. I wriggled slightly away from him and put my hand in the way. He laughed and I rolled on my side and tried to push him off the bed with my knees. "Hey, there." He said, a smile still on his face. "What are you doing?" We kept going on like this for a bit until I couldn't hold back. I let out some kind of grumbling "Arggghghghghg!" and then "Stop spanking me. I don't even want you to spank me. Just stop."

"Why? What's wrong?"

"Because", I spouted. "I don't want to hear your whimpery 'what's" and 'what's wrong's'. I want you to tell me 'Stay there.' and 'Stop moving now'. Ok?"

Immediately he pressed me down into the bed, his hand solid on the small of my back. "Stay there then."

This was good and we proceeded to continue. Somehow, I didn't end up listening to him, and he dragged me into the corner, which hasn't happened in awhile. Then he went into our living room and left me there.

I don't know what came over me. In the past I've done fairly well with respecting corner time. But this occasion was different. I felt so naughty, rebellious and awful that I couldn't stand just standing there. The corner he used is right by our front door, so I peered out the peephole for awhile. Nope, no one came by. That got boring, so I played with the shadows my bottom made against the wall. Boring. All I could think was "He doesn't know I'm not obeying. I need him to know." So I began randomly shifting my feet in the carpet, then stamping them.

He came back over with the hairbrush, and warned me with more than words to stay quiet. He left. I stamped. He came back. He pressed me into the corner and spanked hard. He told me to stay there just a little while longer.

But I got thirsty, so I walked into the kitchen and turned on the tap, filled up a glass. The sound of the faucet brought him over to me quickly. He was grinning. "What are you--?"

"I was thirsty!!" I defend.

"I can see that," He smiles, taking the glass from me. He sits down in a folding chair by our table and pulls me over his lap so fast my hands hit the carpet loudly as I slightly catch myself.

The hairbrush connects with my butt fast and hard, and I begin wondering what hurts more, the brush or the bathbrush. He makes me apologize and I do. "When I tell you to stay in the corner, what do you do?" SMACK!
"I stay in the corner."
"You say in the corner, what?" SMACK SMACK!
"I stay in the corner, Sir."
"When I tell you to not stamp your feet what do you do?
"I don't stamp my feet..." SMACK SMACK SMACK!

We went on like this for awhile. And I thought to myself--okay, this is a good hard spanking. I'm done now. He's done enough. I've scratched the itch. I will be good now.

But something inside of me said--No! You need so much more. You need to fight him more. You need to be punished more. You need to resist and be conquered more. And he's leaving on vacation for awhile and you need to do it now when he's here.

So I did. I said something saucy, and he quickly grabbed the bathbrush. That hurt, but surprisingly, it didn't hurt all that much. At one point, he stopped to rub my bottom with one hand, let the bathbrush dangle in the other hand. I could see under the folding chair perfectly from my position, and the dangling bathbrush was just too tempting. So I grabbed it.

We played tug of war for awhile with that, and then he stopped moving. "Get up, Bonnie-jo." I knew that voice. Something bad was going to happen. So I sent stiff over his lap and didn't move. "Get up, now."

"No." I said.

He pushed me off his lap. It wasn't a violent push, and it didn't hurt me because I was trying to cling to him and the fall was a slow one, but all the same, I was surprised.

He went off to search our closet and I knew exactly what for.

He came back with the cane. "Get over the arm of the couch." This has sort of become our signature caning position--me stretched over the arm of our black leather love seat, my feet on the ground. I absolutely hate it.

"Pleeaase!" I whimpered. "I want to stay on the bed! Please, please, please can you do it on the bed?"

"No. Get over the couch. Now!"

He actually hadn't caned me for weeks and weeks, and suddenly, I was really scared. The last time I was caned it was for something very serious. And it hurt. It hurt way more than I like remembering.

"I'm staying on the bed." I said.

"You were starting at only 2 strokes, Bonnie-jo. But I'm upping it now. "

"I don't care."

"12 strokes."

"I don't care."

"24 strokes."

I grin up at him wickedly, a mixture of fear, resignation, and pure silliness, "How about one thousand, huh? How about that? Think you could do that?" I sound angry and realize I almost am.

"Okay, one thousand." He says, "Now get on the couch." I dig my fingers and toes into the bed and stick my bottom out, hoping he gives in. Nope.

He drags me to the couch and pushes me over the arm. "College Guy," I say desperately, "You can't cane me a thousand times, I wouldn't be able to walk."

"We'll see how far we get." He grits out.

But I'm already sliding off the couch. "No, no,no! I can't!" I whimper. But he pushes me back down onto the couch. He lets go so he can take aim with his cane and I flip over so that the front of me is facing him. "I don't want to be caned!" I beg. He flips me over. I flip back over. He pulls me up and holds me by my arm and I fall to the ground. We do this routine over and over again, and each time he flips me over or drags me off of the ground, I get more of a rush. This is actually turning me on. A lot. Plus it's fun. When he pushes me down into the leather couch and holds me there, I love how it feels. When I slip from his grasp, I love the feeling that he is angry. And when I fall to the ground, I love that I'm making him work, that he has to chase me, that he has to pick me up and muscle his way to make this happen.

"Bonnie-jo, stop this." He is saying as we dance this, or he's saying something of the like. But I am not listening. On the one hand, there is the cane facing me. On the other hand, there is this thing we are doing, this thing that builds a spanking up and up and up until the buildup is almost more enjoyable than the spanking itself.

Suddenly, though, I hear him say, "Allright, I'm done!" And he moves away. Then I hear, "Where is your book?" I crane my neck to watch as he stalks away and then comes back. "I'm throwing your Erica Scott book away." And he tosses it in the trash.

My first thought was that he didn't like spanking me, that he didn't like me being a spanko. I'm reading Erica Scott's Late Bloomer right now and loving it. But then he came back, "And Hunger Games? I'm throwing that away too." What??? I just sat on the couch, frozen. He had never done this kind of thing before. Did he think I was a child? Was this like taking away someone's phone or computer when they'd been bad? What was he doing. I felt angry, but I also felt untouchable. If he was trying to make me cave or control me in this way, he could think again. I had money. I would buy more books. Besides, my stuff was not what mattered. What mattered was myself and that I was strong. Didn't he know that? I felt like he was being so petty and that his attempt to be truly hurtful was weak. I don't know...maybe that was just a defense, because my next action surprised us both.

I picked up the forgotten cane from the ground, sat on the couch, placed my sock covered foot in the middle of the cane, and broke it. It broke easily, but it didn't break cleanly. Wood fibers clung, to one side of it while splintered pieces jutted out in all directions. I laid the cane on the floor and smiled over at College Guy.

I can't remember his exact words and don't want to get them wrong. He said something like, "Do one more thing and we're through, we'll break up."

And I just laughed. I thought it was hilarious how easily the cane broke and how utterly stricken he looked.

"So that's it? You want to be broken up?"

He was taking it so seriously. Why was he taking it so seriously. "No, College Guy. Of course not, no. I don't."

I could try to remember every sentence of the rest of our conversation, but honestly, I can't remember. He told me to take my books out of the trash. There had been a new garbage bag in the trash container and there really was no garbage in it. So the books were unscathed. We were both angry. I was angry that he felt like I took away all his control by breaking the cane. He was angry that I was unapologetic and he could do nothing about it. A new cane was bought on Cane-iac that night, plus a new paddle, a Lexan one. In the end, we both ended up apologizing. Note to readers:this all happened on a Friday night and the new implements arrived on a Monday. Cane-iac's shipping services are awesome to say the least, and I only payed a regular shipping fee. :)

I just wanted to tell all you strangers out there that spankings aren't always fun and games and easy. Some of them are messy. This one was. There will be messy things to come. I can feel it.