Spanking Party

I went to my very first spanking party the other day. After muddling my way through a crowded downtown area and calling the spanking host for directions because I didn't write all of the details he sent me down (no, he didn't spank me for it), I arrived at a two story warehouse-like building with warm lighting and wooden floors.

I didn't really know why I was there. But from the moment I heard the tell-tale "Thwack, crack, smack" sounds rising from the bottom floor and mixing with the warm rumble of chatter, I knew I was in the right place. At least, it sounded like the right place.

You never realize how loud a spanking is until you aren't the one receiving it. It was a small group, and although the area was large, it was all one open room. We were often arrested in the midst of conversation by the sounds proceding from the spanking side of the room. One of the tops, after a particularly punishing blow dealt by the paddle in his hand, remarked to the onlookers, "That one hurt my ears too." Guess you're a good spanker if you need to wear ear plugs.

I was in the mood for a good spanking. My Magician had told me, "Don't expect much, and you won't be dissapointed much. Just see how it goes." Well, that was the nice thing he said. There was also, "What are you going to wear? " "What? Your short-shorts? Those are my short shorts....You say the other short shorts?? Those are mine too!"

Me going to this party was a strain on both of them--College Guy and My Magician. Actually, the reason I was going to the party was because College Guy had told me about it. That's because he literally knows everything....(You think I'm being sarcastic...well...hehe... don't tell anyone.)

About 3 hours before the party, after getting off IM chat with My Magician, I started messaging College Guy.

"I have to get ready for the party. It's in only 3 hours. And I've gotten no homework done. Ahhh!! I'm nervous!"

"You don't need 3 hours to get ready, silly girl. Do some homework."

"Noooooooo."

"You have time. Besides, I"m not asking, I'm telling."

"Noooooooo."

"Stop saying that. I'm serious."  (Do I ever believe him? Nooooooo.)

"Why not? It's fun."

"Do a bit of homework before you get ready. You have time."

"Noooooooo."

"Do some homeowork or I'll cane you."

"Nooooooo."

 Don't try to tell a nervous brat to do homework. Not unless you enjoy being frustrated.

After about an hour of light hearted chatting, sharing, and giggling at the people getting spanked--I knew I was in the right group when an especially loud CRACK! was not met with concern but with giggles and smiles from the chatting participants--I decided to play. I didn't really want to. It's one thing to play with someone you know. And it's one thing to play in a group with someone you know. But to bare most of your bottom (I kept my panties on) to a group of strangers and let another complete stranger wack it...it was beginning to sound crazy to me. However, I was even more scared of me hating myself for being scared later, when the party was over and I had time to think about it. And even more importantly, I wanted a spanking--any spanking.

All in all, it was a good spanking. As far as the physics of spanking go, the dude did a fine job. There was a ton of variety in methods used. Short, fast, hard, gentle, straight on, sweeping up, both hands, one hand, and etc.  There was even one time when he would switch between his hand and the small paddle he was using right in the middle of  a bunch of strokes. It kept me wondering what would happen next. But I was confused. Confused during and more confused afterwards. Sure, I had that silly "I'm getting spanked" smile on my face the whole time. But afterwards, I curled up next to a newly-made-bottom-friend and struggled to keep the smile on my face.

I almost wish I hadn't played. I feel cheap because of how much I didn't get to experience. I missed the power play. Sure, I'm a spanko. But spanking is at most 75% of the picture. It might only be 50%. I miss My Magician. I miss College Guy. I miss being able to relax in their hands. I miss testing them. I miss the game that isn't really a game. I miss the reality.

Sometimes, I wonder if I'm what people call a "submissive". I hate that word. It doesn't even look nice. It doesn't look respectable. It looks like someone who is under something, shorter than something, groveling, bowing, begging, or silent. It makes me think of social problems, inequality, and ignorance. Am I a "submissive"?

"We are a bottom-driven group", the group host told all of us at the spanking party. "This means when the bottom says, 'Stop', you stop. This means if the bottom is good after one swat, you stop." I didn't like hearing this. I understood, but it took half of the fun away. I want to be pushed. I want to be stretched. I want to brat, and I want to be punished.

However, I realized, after a day or so of sulking because I didn't get my power-play-high, that there is no way to get a power-play high with a stranger. And if two strangers tried to attempt such a thing with one another, they'd be playing with fire. The only way to let complete strangers play like this is for the bottom to have too much control . A necessary evil, I'll admit. I'd so much rather play with the good kind of fire, like the kind I played with over the summer.

And in a way, I'm glad I had the reaction I did. It helped me realize how much I love what College Guy and I have and what My Magician and I have. Both people could never ever be easily replaced. They are a  precious part of my life, and sometimes, I feel like one of the luckiest girls in the world.

My Musical Mind

Song Lyrics:

1. "I'm a genie in a bottle, baby...gotta make a big impression, got like watchu do."--Christina Aguilera, Genie in a Bottle
2. "Your lips my biggest weakness, shouldn't have let you know. I'm always gonna do what they say." --Justin Bieber, You Smile
3. "Those schoolgirl days, of telling tales and biting nails are gone. But in my mind I know they still live on and on." --Lulu, To Sir With Love
4. "Just gonna stand there and watch me burn. That's all right because I like the way it hurts." --Rihanna, Love the Way You Lie
5. "Just leave with me now, say the word and we'll go. I'll be your teacher, I'll show you the rules."--Jason DeRulo, In My Head
6. "And when it's love, if it's not rough it isn't fun." --Lady Gaga, Poker Face

Canes and Breaking Implements

The cane was worse than the 3-holed paddle. I had no idea! We had something to talk about... It was all planned ahead of time. College Guy loves planning this stuff.  He plans it, then tells me about it weeks ahead of time, so that I can think about it/worry about it every moment of every day....I'm joking, I'm joking!! Me, worry about a spanking? In your dreams, bub!

Anyway, so I arrived at his college during rush hour traffic, picked him up outside the college (because when he heard I was so close he started walking to me). Traffic sped up and before I was ready for it, we arrived at our hotel.

It was my favorite hotel room so far. I am beginning to develop a great fondness for hotel rooms....sigh. Anyway, we had barely stepped in the door, when he said to me, "There's something we have to get out of the way, isn't there?"

I froze. "So soon?" I tried to look cute.

"That's the way it needs to be. Stand up."

I wanted this spanking as much as he wanted to give it to me, at least in a way. There had been a misdeed. I wanted to "pay for it". I know this isn't how he sees it, not really. To him it's reinforcement, it's a way to grow, and I love that.

I stood and shifted from one foot to the other as he unzipped my jeans. "Keep your feet on the floor." He commanded.

He was inches away from me and I thrilled with the feeling of vulnerability. My panties were tugged off in record time, and I had to catch my breath. "Put your hands straight up," He instructed. My breathing quickened, and my vision got slightly fuzzy as I realized the picture we made, the action he was about to perform. Like a 3-year-old being undressed by a parent.

I grimaced slightly and looked away trying to think of a happy place, as he neatly swept my shirt and camisole off my outstretched arms. The bra gave him a bit of trouble, but then it was off too. My socks came off somewhere in the middle, I have no idea when...Then he broke the chilled distance between us and I was spun around, one of his arms securely around my waist.

"Whose bottom is this for the next hour or two?" He breathed in my ear.

"Yours." I replied meekly.

Damn my earlier post entitled "Fantasy While Procrastinating on My Homework", because he read the awful thing and decided that this time he would tie me up and blind fold me. I truly hate blindfolds. My Magician didn't cure me of that completely. I knew this was going to happen, and I was scared.

He didn't tie me for the beginning of the spanking, but there was no warm up. The blindfold over my eyes, he gently pushed me over the edge of the bed. "Keep both feet on the floor. Do you feel this pillow at your finger tips. Yes, yes, right there. Hold onto that. Don't let go. That's your anchor. You need to hold that the whole time. Now, since you need practice, you're going to count. 'One, Sir', 'Two, Sir', okay, Bonnie-jo?"

"Okay."

I was refusing to say the words until absolutely necessary. He let it slip. He often does.

And he knew how scared I was. "I'm right here, Bonnie-jo. You're going to be fine. Are you okay?"

"Yes."

SWISH! The first one nearly took my breath away. After about count three, I was tensing and whimpering during each wait for the next stroke. And each time, it seemed he waited for me to still, and then SWISH!!! The cane fell with a new vengeance.

There was a huge dichotomy in the whole tone of the thing. It was a uniqueness that was all College Guy. He showed no mercy with that cane. None. But at various times his hand was on my back, stroking, consoling. At one point, after about count 7 or 8, at the point where I was having trouble talking without whimpering and moaning interrupting it, he said, "You're doing a great job, Bonnie-jo, hang in there." Or something of the like.

After that there was a proper warm up over his lap (way to finally do it up right), some bath brushing, In WHICH I BROKE THE BRUSH--I FREAKIN BROKE GEPPETTO--SURE IT WAS JUST THE TOP OF THE  HANDLE--BUT FIRST IMPLEMENT BROKEN--AND IT WAS A BATH BRUSH FOLKS!!!!! In case you are skimming my post, I'm hoping you'll see those words....because they are the most important part of the blog for sure. Anyway, after that I grabbed my knees for the grand finale--a paddling with the 3-holed paddle that turned out to be not so bad, but I think it was because half the time he was swinging lightly in kindness and perhaps fear of my anger should all the swings be like the last one--one which nearly knocked me over.

Would anyone like a cane? I might even throw in free-shipping....

On a side-note, I will be thinking about my next episode to "The Bet". Pink and Celine scared me by acknowledging it, and thus all my creativity has been dried up. If you only hadn't commented, I might have posted by now...

In my Astronomy class we are talking about Newton's laws and various aspects of physics. I hate science and spend some of the time in a constant struggle to climb out of my daydreams. However, I have been learning a few important facts. Force=Mass * Acceleration and Potential Energy is the kind that has the possibility of doing some kind of damage. I think brattiness is potential energy. We could develop a whole list of stuff that is Potential Energy that my prof never thought of before...

Checklist

   Camera? Check.
   Japanese bondage rope? Check.
   Blindfold/Sleep Mask? Check.
   Three-holed Paddle? Check.
   Very cheap Arbor Mist stuff? Check.
   Panties of various types? Check.
   Cane? Check.
   Bathbrush? Check.
   Computer? Check.
   Sleep? Not yet, still packing...I'm going on a trip. I'm gonna see College Guy. We have stuff to "talk" about. And we have need for a break in the pandimonium of school and life. So I'm going. Leaving in about 7.5 hours. I had better get to bed.
   We have some new implements that we bought together in place of "Christmas presents". I think it's a little early for Christmas...but I know when to keep my mouth shut. I'm looking forward to the cane. The paddle can get eaten by a wild boar on the trip over for all I care.
  Can't wait. Can't wait.
  Can't wait to wish that I could wait. Can't wait to think "Oh %*$*...why did I come?"
  Can't wait.

The Bet

He said her name in that tone of voice. She peaked her head around the corner of the living room. He was on the couch. In the middle of the couch. He never sat there. Not smack dab in the middle.


She flew back to the bedroom, zipped on her coat, jerked on her hat and gloves, grabbed her car keys.


She scuttled by him, avoiding his  gaze. Her hand was on the door, thumb pressed on the top handle, when she felt his arm around her waist, his strong hand wrap gently but firmly around her wrist. "Where do you think you're off to?" The question was almost a whisper, and her breath quickened.


"I'm getting ice cream."


"Like hell."


She squirmed in his half embrace, dreading what was coming, and also...wondering..as always, wondering...would he give up this time?


She giggled. "I didn't realize that kissing me good bye was so important to you. Since when has that been such a big deal?" And she turned in his arms, snuggling in and reaching up for his face in a movement that had been honed with time and practice.


In a smooth move, he stepped backwards and her hands met empty space. So he was airing on the side of caution. Good, she liked a man to be scared of her.


To bad he hadn't thought more into the movement. Right on beat she spun, pulled the door open, and sped out, not bothering to close it. A nervous squeal rose in her throat as she dashed to her car, keys extended. The car beeped at her as the remote engaged, and she opened her door, jumped in, and moved to slam herself into safety, but the door wouldn't budge.


He was holding the handle. "Get out. I will come in there and drag you out. You don't want that."


"I don't want you." Yeah, she knew she didn't play fair. So?


"Get out."


They stared at one another, her brain starting to realize that she wasn't going anywhere.


"Why?" She decided to play dumb. "Why do you always think this will help us? Spanking me doesn't help. I like spanking."


It was dark outside. So she saw the sparks clearly as they flashed in his eyes. "I like spanking too. And I'm going to enjoy this spanking a hell of a lot more than you're going to."


"You wanna bet?"

Holes

    My favorite pair of jeans has 4 holes down the left thigh. And during class, my fingers will sneak down  and a  probing finger or two will sneak into one of the holes, smoothing the skin underneath. And then I'll just leave them there, trapped against my skin It happens unintentionally, but most times, when I realize I've been doing it for awhile, I jerk my fingers out, wondering if classmates had noticed my self-soothing movement.
    Freud would say that the actions was symbolic of another action, another self-soothing habit that he was all too interested in. Doesn't he wish?
    But I don't think that's why I do it. The feeling of my fingers on the previously untouched skin is good. But, after repeating the motion in my horribly long night class yesterday, I realized why I like it, why do it unconsciously. I like trapping my finger.
    I know it's just one finger, and I'm in control of the trapping part. I really don't know why I like it or have fixated on this tiny part of my life as a subject for my post.
    But it makes me think. It makes me think of holding hands. It makes me think of someone holding my wrist, my arm bent behind my back, as I writhe across his lap. It makes me think of a hand on my face, forefinger and thumb pressing just below my cheekbones. "Look at me. Look. At. Me." It makes me think of that place I always want to get to, that place where I can no longer fight and but more than that, I no longer want to.

My Toppy-side

"Why are you following me?" I ask this guy at college that is always running into me. For all of last semester and now this one, he's been "the stalker" in the movie that is my life. We were even in a class this semester, but thankfully, I ended up dropping it. Now I'm trying to find Henry James' "The Turn of the Screw". And this guy is dogging my every step.


"What?" He asks innocently.

I sigh. "Heel!" I command, and keep walking. He follows. I laugh. But it's not funny. I'm mocking.

I only do it because I hate it.

My first boyfriend ever is lying on his back in the parked vehicle. Vulnerable...controlled by his need. I see it as weak...and I laugh. I'm mocking.

"Say it again. Say it like you mean it." I purr.

"You're so good at blow jobs. You're like in the top 2%...." He breaks off in a gasp, and I allow the feeling to soar, then abruptly break off contact.

"I don't think I like the sound of 2%. I want to hear 1%." My voice is matter-of-fact, but teasing.

He chuckles. But I remain motionless.

"Alright, alright, you're in the top 1%.."

I laugh. Hilarious. Horribly hilarious.

I like to think that this is my "toppy-side". That it comes out when I don't like a guy. When I wish I could like a guy.

So I test him. And when he fails, I laugh. But I'm mocking.

This isn't fair of me. Some guys want to be controlled by women. Some guys are like me. It's what they long for.

"The stalker" in the library, when I told him to "heel" , responded with, "Oh, no, Missy, oh no. Don't even think about it."

I giggled. 'Well, you're still following me."

"You may be cute," he said, "But you're not that cute."

Which probably means that his "oh no" reaction was only reserved for those that were "that cute" and that everyone else couldn't boss him around. But some one "that cute" could definitely be the boss.

And I never want that. I'm not saying that I never want to have my own ideas. I do. I want to be able to tell a guy what I think he should do. I want him to tell me what he suggests I'd do. And then I want to figure out what I think is best.

However, I want him to know that when he wants it to be so...when we can push everyday life aside...I want him to control me. But only if he takes pleasure in it too.

I never want him to see being a top as mocking me. I am mocking when I play at it. It scares me every time I do it.