An early roleplay

The Labor Day Shadowlane party was my third party.  I hadn't had much success with roleplay before that, but I was fascinated by the idea.  This is my recounting of my first "successful" roleplay scene, written shortly after the scene.

I was introduced to Mike at the Florida Moonshine Beach Party by a dear friend who thought the two of us might have a complimentary play style.  My first impression of Mike was that he was intelligent and quiet.  We weren't able to connect at FMS for a number of reasons, any of which would make an independent story.  We did exchange email addresses and when we found we would both be attending Shadowlane, we began to make plans.

Our initial discussions led us to "funishment" - a play style that is somewhere between punishment and pure fun.  As I define it, funishment looks like a punishment spanking but the reason for the spanking is spurious, fictitious, or just silly.  This happens to be one of my favorite styles of play.  Though I tend more towards the fun angle of funishment, Mike expressed a preference for something based on real life.  I described a number of crazy incidents during my high schools years and the buildup began.

First, a bit of background on "jumping" railroad tracks.  In the area where I grew up, railroad tracks often cross gravel roads on raised railroad beds.  On these unlit rural roads, a reckless teenage driver can shut off the car's headlights as they approach the tracks.  The darkness, in theory, allows the driver to see an approaching train or car from a greater distance.  The driver can then race down the road at a high enough speeds that the car will lift off the ground as it "jumps" the railroad tracks.  As you might imagine, this isn't the safest of activities.  It is also very hard on the vehicle.  I had admitted to Mike that this type of driving required early replacement of the shocks and struts on the car I drove in high school.

I received an email from "Officer Mike Tanner" warning that a police video had filmed me jumping the railroad tracks in my father's car.  He explained that he would have to tell my parents as well as report the incident to my school, as it would have some bearing on my college scholarships.

I wrote back in the most flippant manner I could manage.  I asked him please not to tell my father, because my "Daddy might try to ground me" and I really wanted to go to Gwendolyn's party the following weekend.  I complained that it would take significant work on my part to talk my Daddy out of such nonsense.

He responded brilliantly, incensed that I spoke so casually about the bother of talking my father around so that I could attend a party.  Of course, I could not have said much more clearly that my father's idea of punishment would have no deterrent effect.  In fact, I was confident that it would not even occur; I was just worried about the hassle.  He offered me the perfect alternative - a sound spanking.

I responded with some reluctance.  I was too old.  I would be so embarrassed.  I let myself fall into that headspace.  Without apologizing, I implied that I may have been overconfident; there were serious repercussions to my driving privileges.  It was easy to find the voice of a high school senior with financially-supportive but emotionally absent parents.

His response was reassuring but provocative at the same time.

I opted for jeans and a t-shirt, even though my party attire ordinarily consists of skirts.  I must have hit the mark with the outfit, because I was carded when I went out for lunch before our scene.  Despite being with a group of twenty-plus party-goers, many of whom verified that I was certainly of age, I was forced to return to my hotel room for my ID!

When Mike came to my room, we exchanged only the most basic pleasantries before launching into the scene.  I was initially caught off-guard, responding to something he said with a blank look.  But he simply smiled and said, "I'm Officer Tanner now," and we went on.

He gave a good lecture, reminding me that I could stop the spanking anytime I wanted - I had only to tell him that I would rather he tell my parents what I had done.  I had never needed a safeword, but this was a good scene-appropriate choice.  Throughout our play, when it looked like I was struggling, he would remind me that he could tell my father instead, if I'd rather.  I consistently refused, of course.

The spanking started slowly, but not so slowly that I was provoked into saying anything.  I had told him that my parents had never spanked me, so he gave a fascinating lecture on the benefits of spanking and the wonders it had done for his daughter and niece.  After a bit he said that he'd given me the type of spanking he would give a 12-year old.  The swats got significantly harder as he used "15-year old" strength and finally "18-year old" intensity.

Next, he used a innocuous looking paddle - about the size of a ping-pong paddle, very thin, with beveled holes.  That thing hurt!  When he paused and said that was the "12-year old" version, I seriouslyconsidered the "tell your father" option.  But somehow, I made it through.  During the paddling, he gave an explanation about why most of a spanking should be applied to the sit-spot...as he did just that.  Ouch!

He had me stand up and look at my bottom in the mirror.  It was bright red and hot to the touch.  Then he made me stand with my nose against the wall while he piled pillows on the bed.  Soon enough, I was laying over the pillows for a strapping.  He made me count and promise to be a good girl after each.  At first, I felt ridiculous.  By the time he finished, I almost meant what I was saying.

He showed me my bottom in the mirror again and gave me a hug.  As part of his ongoing lecture, he had mentioned that he was going to ask all my teachers about my school performance.  He planned to ask them at the school's "open house" that evening.  One bad report and I'd be getting the same thing again, only worse on my sore bottom!

After we finished the roleplay, we had a fairly long conversation.  Although this was somewhat the reverse of a typical session, it was nice.  One of the greatest things about the parties is the opportunity to meet some great people.

The Vendor's Fair had a back-to-school theme, so naturally I was in pseudo-uniform.  Whenever I passed Mike, he said I had better hope my teachers were saying good things about me.  Towards the end of the evening, he took my hand and walked over to the Shadowlane table where Brad was working.  When Brad had a free moment, Mike said to him, "You got that email I sent about Lizzie's school performance?"

Brad, great friend that he is, "threw me right under the bus."  He came out with a laundry list of things I had supposedly done - not turned in homework, procrastinated, disrupted his class.  I couldn't decide whether I wanted to sink into the floor or attempt to throttle "Mr. Brad."  I settled for blushing and stammering excuses and denials.

The second scene was just as wonderful as the buildup in person worked as well as the buildup over email.  But that's a story for another day.