My Journey: Delayed Sexuality

As my classmates navigated the rough waters of puberty, my journey was delayed. Through junior high and even high school, my interest in sex remained somewhere between a child's "ew gross, they are kissing" and a spectator's detached disinterest. I attribute this primarily to two things. First, my physical maturity lagged behind the norm. I was the last girl in my class to start her period, by over a year, and I was among the older kids in my class. My hormones were markedly delayed. And I believe my sexual interest was delayed as a result. But equally important, I have three significantly older siblings. I had watched their teenage drama, up close and frequently theatrical, through a child's bemused eyes. I watched my classmates date and wrestle with sex the same way, as a disinterested observer. By the time my classmates were dating, my siblings had settled into their adult lives. When I became interested, I wanted to skip the angst for a mature relationship. That isn't to say I was particularly happy in my detachment; I wasn't. I wanted very much to be "normal." But I didn't see my interest in spanking as a sexual interest, so I began to wonder if I even had an interest in sex. I certainly was not interested in the cautious fumblings of my first post-puberty boyfriend. When that relationship imploded (there is simply no other description when your high school boyfriend impregnates the girl who had been offering your little brother blow-jobs on the school bus), I found myself more interested in another girl. Our sexual exploration was far more satisfying, but that relationship was equally doomed. Her interest in me, unfortunately, went only so far as the boys were willing to pay for our affectionate displays with alcohol and other mind-altering substances. I graduated high school a virgin.

KC Spanks Club

I haven't died, or even melted. This summer has been terribly busy, as summers tend to be. And I've found that the extreme heat triggers my migraines (lovely). But I'm making a renewed effort to blog. Feel free to pester me about posting more frequently.

[picture taken after the party by Hank]

I attended a great evening party hosted by KC Spanks Club a couple weeks ago (yes, I know it's taken me forever to write about it; I should be spanked...or something). Over forty people attended - such a wonderful, diverse group of people.  Even though I always enjoy the parties when I go, the evening parties are a struggle for me.

I've developed a routine for a weekend party that begins months in advance getting airline tickets, hotel reservations, and exchanging emails and FetLife messages to get all my plans in place. About a week before the party, I'll go into a tizzy about clothing, more particularly my lack thereof. I typically threaten at least once to go without, before I finally settle down. Then there is a last minute flurry of packing, racing to the airport, and making all my connections that leaves me little time to contemplate what I'm about to do before I'm swept into the party.

For a single evening party, I'm lacking the transition. I'm at work, then I need to jump right into party-mode. That's a difficult jump for me. In all honesty, I probably would not have gone to this party except that I got a lovely note on FetLife that encouraged me to put aside my nerves and go. And I am SO glad I went!

Mr. and Mrs. Powertool put on a very nice demo. I was particularly impressed by Mrs. Powertool's response to a (somewhat snarky) question from the audience - she succinctly explained that her husband is a bottom, not a submissive. And she gave a really good lecture on the differences between the two. I wish I could remember exactly what her response was, because it was one of the best I've heard.

I have to thank Alicia Panettiere and Hank for helping me get into the party mood. I've met Alicia several times, but never had the chance to play with her before. She's an excellent top! Hank, who I met for the first time at this party, was instrumental in instigating that first scene and I thank him for that! There's nothing like a spanking to help me relax into a party. We enjoyed banter and continued play throughout the party - with both of them spanking me, what's not to love?

I also had the opportunity to play with Rich Spankman, who organizes the KC Spanks Club parties. As the event planner, he's always so busy that I hesitate to ask him to play. But I'd made up my mind at this party that I would ask him...then he beat me to it! That is, he asked me first. He also "beat" me, in the context of giving me a very good spanking; but that's the idea, isn't it? I've seen his variety of spanking methods in demos before, but it was even more fun to experience them!

I had a great scene with Joe. Despite both of us traveling to Atlantic City for Boardwalk Badness and attending parties in KC, we've never gotten the chance to play before. I do love a man with heavy hands who knows how to use them!

I also got the chance to play with Joe's wife, Michelle. Hank warned me about her "Sunday" hairbrush - so named because she can't use it on anyone at a weekend party until Sunday, because it tends to finish the bottom for the weekend - but I simply had to try it. And, of course, I loved it! (ColoDom is right, if you looked up "pain slut" in the dictionary, you'd find a picture of me.)

[close-up taken of the lines from the "Sunday" brush, taken by Hank...thanks again!]

Thanks again to everyone I played with and talked to at the party! I had a wonderful time and I'm looking forward to the next event.

SL Party Report - Monday/Tuesday

By Monday, the party was wrapping up.  It seems like Monday was a blur of goodbye hugs and promises to email, only some of which I've followed up on because I'm terrible with that.  (If I owe you an email, please email me!)  This was the first party that I've stayed later than all my close friends, and saying goodbye proved to be very difficult.  I've decided it's far easier to leave a little early, saying goodbye to everyone at once and having your attention taken by getting to the airport, getting through security, and getting home before you have time to think about it.  Saying goodbye to each of my friends, individually, and watching them leave, was really difficult.

I won't go through all the individual goodbyes.  Those that I missed were nearly as hard as those I managed to hug goodbye.

I had a nice final scene with Craig.  Bittersweet, though, as we may not see one another until Boardwalk Badness in April.

I also managed to catch up with R, who I had missed at two parties running.  It was lovely to catch up.  He gave me a "good girl" spanking.  The perfect way to wind down a weekend like this.  It happened to fit both needs, as we were able to talk during the spanking.  We had a rather funny discussion about what any vanilla person would think, hearing us.  Our typical scenes last so much longer than any imaginable "spanking" - I cannot imagine what people think we are doing.  I've heard the sounds of smacking, from hotel rooms and hotel elevators, but I cannot dream what an unsuspecting vanilla might imagine.

At every party, there are a few discussions that stand out, this party was no different.  Along with the "what would vanillas imagine is going on" discussion, the following stand out:

• Erica relating a story where she had impressed a top with her logic, to which she replied, "I think well off my feet."  I laughed until my side hurt, because I, too, think better OFF my feet than on.


• At the SSNY suite party, I was explaining why I don't often play in truly public parties anymore.  The phenomenon where people approach me and say, "Hi, my name is...would you like to play?"  I'm embarrassed for these people!  There are those people who can say nothing more to me than "Would you like to play?", but those are people I have played with countless times!  I know that's impossible to know, but, really?

On the memorable scale, my return to the airport takes the cake.  First, I must thank Dave and Stacy, who graciously agreed to take me along on their early morning ride to the airport...I'm ever so grateful that I did not have to take a cab.  And they were, understandably, sleep deprived by our early departure.  But the story is simply too good to pass up.

After returning their rental car, we got a luggage cart.  Dave loaded their four bags onto the cart.  I offered to pull my own, because it rolls and I'm used to carting it around after me.  Dave insisted that it was no problem.  He put it on top of the bags, then stacked his own briefcase on top.  He assured me that it was his work laptop, he wouldn't let anything happen to it, so he wouldn't drop my bag.  I wasn't worried about my bag...which turns out to be a good thing.

From the rental car drop off to the airport, we had to go up an escalator.  Stacy and I had fallen some distance behind Dave, talking.  Dave bravely pushed the baggage cart onto the escalator, ignoring the signs prohibiting such an action.  You can imagine what happened at the top of the escalator.  The baggage cart got stuck, finally overturning.  Stacy and I tried to backstep down the escalator, but we were eventually force to tumble over our bags.  (I realized after that if I had simply turned around and walked down the escalator, I could have easily escaped this craziness.  But my mind doesn't function rationally in face of an impending disaster.)  An innocent bystander, texting on her phone while watching us, was nearly doubled over with laughter.  Luckily, we were all unhurt by the events, but I still have to decide if I should bring charges against Dave at the next CP Court.  I'd have to ask him to recuse, of course...

SL Party Report - Saturday

I have an excuse for not posting this sooner...several excuses.  But let's be realistic, you don't really care - you just want to get a voyeuristic thrill from my adventures.  And I'm an exhibitionist, so this works out. Enjoy!

Despite staying up too late Friday night, I woke up relatively early Saturday.  Jada and I hung out in our room until we found some friends who were up for breakfast.  Did I mention how glad I was to have "my" roommate?  It's wonderful to have someone to enjoy the downtime at parties with, I've certainly been spoiled with that.

We must have eaten breakfast late, or lingered over breakfast, because the next thing I have written down in my notes is the SSNY suite party that afternoon.  I had a great time talking to people there.  To cap off the event, I met Keith Jones.  The first real spanking video I saw, well before coming into the scene, starred Keith Jones and Erica Scott.  Watching them on film is the reason my first party was Shadowlane.  So...way cool once I got over the stuttering, star-struck part.

I left the suite party, planning to watch Craig do a fire and wax scene.   I'm interested, but wanted to watch someone else first.  When the demo didn't show, Craig fit in a short cane scene with me before Jada came up for her turn with fire and wax.  Watching Jada and Craig do the fire and wax scene was quite interesting.  I'm not sure I can stay that still, though.

After Craig had cleaned up from that scene, a group of us were sitting around his suite talking.  Craig wandered over to where I was sitting on the couch, cane in hand.  He dropped it against my leg.  I smiled at him, thinking, I'm sitting here, wearing jeans and a long-sleeve t-shirt, but I'm always up for a caning from someone I enjoy.  I thought we would move to a different position, but no - an entire scene with me fully clothed, sitting on the couch, while a group of friends talked around us.  And remarkably, this was one of the hottest scenes of my weekend.  Craig insisted that I tell the room that I'm "a little exhibitionist."  I refused, and the cane struck everywhere.  I finally did mutter it, under my breath, when the conversation got loud around us, but Craig was onto that.  Instead, he insisted I tell the room that I was "a fucking exhibitionist."  For some reason, that was easier.  Go figure!  It's inexplicable, really, but it was an incredibly amazing scene.

When Jada and I had recovered from our respective scenes, we headed down to our room to prep for the Saturday night dinner.  We both followed the "Mad Men" theme, more or less by accident.  I think we looked quite nice, though, especially considering the limits of Jada's last-minute wardrobe and our combined inability to do anything girl-like with our hair.  In fact, given those things, we looked fantastic!

I had great company for dinner.  Brad, as usual, was a wonderful dinner "date".  He even asked me to dance.  Craig also braved my avowed inability to dance.  I enjoyed conversation with L&M at the dinner table, discussing various outfits.  L had great advice for shoes and accessories.  Being something of a tom-boy, I missed all these lessons growing up, so I soaked it all in.

I must admit that the lack of food (somehow, I'd missed lunch) and sleep (to bed too late, awake too early) caught up with me Saturday night.  I called it a night early, finally giving in to the need to sleep.  Craig sweetly stopped by to make sure I was alright.  Jada came to bed soon after, so I didn't feel like such a wimp...although she had the excuse of getting in so late the night before

SL Party Report - Friday

My Friday began with a bracing swim.  The pool was in the shade and, therefore, entirely too cold.  The hot tub was, naturally, in the sun and, therefore, entirely too hot.  Not one to give up on these things easily, I swam several laps in the pool before overheating in the hot tub and heading back to my room for a shower.

I met Gia and Craig for a late breakfast at the Cafe, where we immediately set about confusing our waitress.  We took places that had been vacated by others and the waitress seemed entirely bewildered that we might want to order food at a restaurant.  Imagine that.  We did manage to get food in a timely manner, however, despite having another couple join us a bit later.  Gia performed an amazing feat of turning plain yogurt into some semblance of edibility by adding various jellies and jams.  I'm still not certain the resulting concoction was edible, but she seemed to enjoy it.  For myself, I picked at my fresh fruit and finished off Craig's meal (following my tradition of preferring someone else's meal to my own).

During brunch, I set up a session with M.  We retreated to my room for a kinky Dean-student scene much like the one we had engaged in at FMS, which is described here.  Many thanks to M for such a fun scene.

Because I had gotten up unaccountably early, I decided to take a nap.  But first I sent Craig a text asking him to text me when he was free, as I knew he was playing.  Unlike the day before, Craig did text me...and call me...and pound on my door.  All of which I slept through.  I sent him a text when I woke up and we were able to meet for a quick scene.

I met up with Mike Tanner for a roleplay scene we had planned.  While away at college, his niece (me) had been strip-dancing to earn spending money.  This story deserves a blog of its own, which I'll write after I finish my party reports.  (Someone should remind me.)  For now, suffice it to say that it was a really great scene.

After that, it was time to prepare for the Vendor's Fair.  Craig and I had been discussing the scene for months, it seems, exchanging ideas and stories.  I skipped the schoolgirl theme and wore my white corset, black leather shorts, and heels.  Katy-Lynn stopped by to help me into the corset, but I forgot that I wouldn't be able to bend over to fasten my shoes on.  I wandered down the hallway in search of help, where I was unexpectedly rescued by Erica and J, who each took a shoe.  I met up with Katy-Lynn and her boyfriend, R, who had agreed to accompany me down to the ballroom.  I am grateful for their company, as I did attract more than a few second glances.

Craig and I had planned a "take-down" scene, in which he would surprise me by spanking me without warning.  I caught sight of him when I entered the ballroom, pacing on the far side of the room.  I caught a glimpse of him later, busy at one of the booths.  When he did catch me, I was caught completely off-guard.  He flipped me over his knee and spanked me hard, a scene which I think caught a few people's attention.  It was a great, hot scene for all it was short.  Craig helped me up and gave me a hug and a kiss.  I mentioned that it seemed like forever and he responded with something along the lines of "You came in the room 18 minutes ago."  Details like that can really make a girl feel appreciated and noticed.  Craig knows how to make a scene for me.

If I were doing it again, the only change I would make is to be certain that my escort, in this case R, was expecting it.  R hadn't met Craig, didn't know about our relationship, and was more than slightly concerned.  Katy-Lynn did a stellar job of both blocking the view of my breasts spilling out of my corset from one of the more obvious creepers and restraining her boyfriend at the same time.  Aside from that oversight on my part, an excellent scene.

After a bit more mingling at the Vendor's Fair, Craig and I retreated to my room for the rest of our scene.  On our way through the casino, a random lady stopped and asked us where a particular restaurant was located.  When we admitted we had no clue, she got all flustered and said, "Oh, I thought you worked here!"  Craig and I had quite a laugh over that on our way up to my room.    As for the scene, it was all the things we tried on Thursday - more intense, more powerful, and so incredible it defies description.  It made for an amazing scene.

We had just wrapped up the scene and finished aftercare when my roommate arrived!  I was very excited to see Jada, who was only able to make it to the party at the last minute.  We spent a bit of time catching up, which naturally included another spanking for Jada and I from Craig, and getting into the party spirit before heading for one of the suite parties.

Jada and I met up with a friend of hers and returned to our room for a "bedtime spanking."  Before we got settled in, Craig knocked on the door in search of his toy bag, which he had left in our room.  I stepped out in the hall and quickly became distracted by a conversation.  Before too long, Gia came by and we wandered up to their suite, leaving Jada our room.

Craig spanked me again in his suite, a quick scene that I obviously should have taken better notes of, because it has blurred into the weekend.  (Some might say I should write my party reports more quickly, but I'd ignore those nay-sayers.)

Jada joined us, bringing along Strict Dave, who had come by our room to give us "bedtime spankings".  He had brought along a belt, which he played with suggestively, but I don't remember him using it that night.  Instead, I got a lovely bedtime spanking and called it a night.  All in all, a great official start to the party.

Playing Hard

Inspired by Indy's post about playing at and expanding her limits, I started thinking about what it is that allows me to endure a hard scene.  Indy describes most of her breakthroughs in tolerance as occurring when she isn't aware of the intensity at which she is playing.  That hasn't been my experience at all.

In fact, when I am surprised by the intensity of a scene, I am less able to handle it.  The only scene (at least in recent memory) that I had to safeword out of was like this.  The top was using a leather paddle that I happen to love, one I have played with and enjoyed at all intensities.  But, I was expecting a light bedtime spanking.  When that wasn't what I got,  I couldn't process it.  I wasn't able to give myself over to the pain, to relax into it.

For me, a startle like that is akin to stubbing my toe - a sharp, unexpected pain that will have me on the floor in tears, much to the bewilderment of anyone who knows me.  As another example of this, I enjoyed a very intense scene at the very end of the Back to School party hosted by FMS last fall.  I was giddy and running high on endorphins after the scene.  I had to return to my hotel room for something and on my way back I ran smack into the door.   I returned to his hotel room with tears streaming down my face.  He stared at me in disbelief and said something like "I just spanked the living shit out of you, and you're asking for more.  What the f*** did you do?"  To be fair, my hand had swollen up as though I had a golf ball under the skin.  But I probably should have sat on the ice bag he prepared for me, because the bruise on my hand was gone when I got home but I was black and blue from my hips to my knees!

Instead, I think the key to pushing my limits is trust.  Do I trust the person I'm playing with?  Do I trust that the Top knows how to use the implement?  Do I trust that they will stop if something goes wrong?  If my Top has my trust...I can go anywhere.  I can give myself over to the pain and simply fly.

A Poem (ish)

Just thinking tonight...

She wears her pain, for the world to see.
Fresh red lines, dotted with blood.
Shiny pink welts, from last weeks' hurts.
Fading white scars, from years gone past.
She wears her pain...and she wears it well.

(Edited to fix the double spacing -- thanks Zelle!)

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.

FMS - A scene with Miss Chris

To finish my weekend at FMS, I had a lovely roleplay with Miss Chris Monday morning.  This is my version of events, with a few comments/thoughts where I couldn't help myself.

Miss Chris had decided upon an Aunt-niece roleplay.  Me, as a college student, spending the summer on the beach with my Aunt.  Naturally, I’ve been running around on the beach, getting drunk, mouthing off to people, fooling around with boys, and such.  She had set out a bar of soap, an evil little paddle with a hole in it, a bath brush, and … at least a cane, maybe more.  She said I needed to learn to respect her and insisted I answer with “ma’am" - something I had wanted to try.

When we started into the scene, I couldn’t think of much to say (typical), but I can always roll my eyes and sigh – that comes entirely too naturally.  Miss Chris had me stand up and she took off my glasses.  I think I rolled my eyes and looked away at something she said…and she slapped me!

(When Jenni had talked about being smacked such, I cringed inside, even though she said she liked it.  Slaps to the face scream trailer-park domestic violence, which is totally not my headspace, to me in a way that nothing else does.  If it hadn’t been Miss Chris, I think I would have hit the door running; twice as fast if it had been anyone male.  Perhaps it is primarily in the M/f context that it squicks me.  But, at least in this instance, that wasn’t my response at all.  It made me feel…almost submissive.  It sure as hell got my attention!  And I maybe kinda liked it…at least in this limited application.)

Dang, that got my attention nearly as well as taking my ear does…maybe even more so.  And she did that too, of course.  (And yeah, I so love that.)  But the face-slap probably did more to put me in the scene than anything else.  She also took the tawse to my palms, which I love, but which puts me further into that shaky, submissive mindset.

So I followed my ear willingly to the bedroom, where she took me over her knee using her hand and that evil paddle.  I can attest to the fact that her hand is fully recovered from the unfortunate fire incident!  I think I hovered; I was sensitive from a long weekend of spanking, not that she stopped!

Then, even though I had paid attention and not said anything naughty at all, she had me follow her into the bathroom for that miserable bar of soap.  Yuck!  And what am I supposed to do, talk around the bar of soap?  I didn’t figure I wanted to touch the soap any more than absolutely necessary…but she kept asking me questions!  When she took the soap out and let me rinse – that was worse!  I had managed to keep my tongue from it too much, but when I rinsed – soap everywhere.  Yuck again!  (I think I can skip the soap in the future; the threat is more than sufficient.)

I think she caned me next.  I don’t really know for sure as it gets a little foggy here – and painful.  Did I mention I was tender from the weekend?  I know Miss Chris paused to attempt a picture of the blood spatter pattern she created with the cane, but I don’t think the picture came out.  She ended the scene by taking me back over her lap and using a bath brush.  (I think...things are seriously fuzzy at this point.)

I got into a very good headspace in the scene.  An intense scene, it rather surprised me.  I loved the “yes, ma’am” and “no, ma’am” aspect, even if it is very hard for me to keep up.  I love having my ear taken, something I discovered in Atlantic City.  I don’t know what Miss Chris does, but no one else takes my ear like she does.  The slap startled me into the scene, which was rather unique and very expected.  And the tawse, really, need I even say anything?  (I know, it's a quirky addiction I have.  If you don't share this addiction, I'm fairly certain that it's impossible to explain.)

As always, a well played scene with a wonderful lady.

Almost Punishment

I can rarely get into the punishment headspace, even in a roleplay, because I love the sensation of being spanked!  As one of my friends is fond of saying – “If you look up ‘pain slut’ in the dictionary, there’s a picture of Lizzie.” – because I always grin when he’s spanking me.  It’s hard to feel punished when someone is doing exactly what you crave them to do.

I got close to that discipline headspace, however, when I did a “kinky” dean-student scene on Friday night at FMS.  Of course I played a student who wasn’t living up to her potential, partying too much, or some such nonsense.  It was a fairly standard scene, allowing that the Dean was strapping his wayward student (hello, Friday night!).

Midway through the scene, he paused, got some ice, and ran it over my bottom and thighs, which caused it to melt and run down my legs, as you might expect.  At this point, he realized the scene had gotten a little “kinky” and our banter changed.  Instead of “you wouldn’t be getting spanked if you hadn’t been so naughty” the lecture turned to “if you hadn’t been so naughty, we would be enjoying a nice good-girl spanking…and other nice things…instead of this!”  Not those words, of course, but that sort of theme.

Even as I laughed inside, the scene changed for me.  This was more real (yeah, it’s a little scary inside my head).  But it was a scene appropriate, if somewhat disturbing in the light of day, way of turning something I love – spanking – into something that almost felt like punishment.  The stereotypical, “I wish I didn’t have to do this and I’m sure you’re unhappy I’m doing it,” falls flat with me – I love being spanked and I don’t really want someone to do it if they aren’t enjoying it too!

But this scene turned that sideways, attacked it from a different angle, played with it in a unique way.  Because, yeah, there are other types of spanking I enjoy…and while I enjoyed this, it got the punishment feel because he had set me thinking of other possibilities.