I woke up Saturday morning with an extremely sore bottom. I went to the mirror and examined it closely for bruises or other marks, but aside from a few places where the skin looked scuffed, nothing. I was sort of disappointed and relieved at the same time. The better shape your butt is in the second night of a party, the more play you can get in. Since Cigi and I hadn't been that impressed with the breakfast the hotel serves when we were there in July, we passed on it. Instead, we heated up some Lean Cuisines. I told you, we live off those on these weekends LOL.
After breakfast, even though I didn't have my party clothes on and was feeling a bit scruffy, I decided to see if anyone wanted to play. To my delight, I ran into "Tex", the man who had given my friend her first party spanking the night before. He was more than happy to try some of my new toys on me. Because I forgot to put the Do Not Disturb sign out, as often happens, Cigi came into the room just when Tex was getting out the canes. Since he has a great sense of humor and doesn't mind those kinds of things, he let her stay and even humored her while she shot some video of him caning me. I think she was a little mad that I didn't play up for the camera. I usually get very quiet when getting caned. When the scene ended, I decided to take a shower and get my party clothes on. Now, I had just had a pretty hard scene that involved all of my favorite toys, especially straps and canes. Why did I think taking a hot shower was going to be a good idea? My decision to take a shower had come right at the end of the scene, not an hour later. As soon as the hot water hit my bottom, I knew it had been a very bad idea. I'm not a "jumper" (someone who reacts dramatically to pain) but I did bounce around the shower a little. I was also thinking about a story my new buddy (the one we had driven up with) had told me the night before during our session about a woman he knew who literally died from being spanked. Apparently, she had been paddled extremely hard and then decided to soak in a very hot bath for an hour or so. The hot water, the blood from the bruises on her butt and the drugs she'd been taking all combined to start a chemical reaction in her body that made the fat in her buttocks begin to break down. I guess some of the broken down fat traveled to her lungs or something and she died. So I was beginning to think 'Am I going to die now?' I know it seems absurd because our situations were totally different. First of all, I wasn't doing drugs. Secondly, I was in a shower, not a bath. And third, I wasn't going to stay in long enough for any chemical reaction to occur. This was just a totally irrational thought on my part. And I was somewhat unnerved. After my shower, I gave my bottom some nice body lotion to help soften out the hard spots I still had even after eight hours of sleep. I took out the clothes I had planned to wear that day and realized that my 100% cotton shirt had wrinkled considerably despite the extra precaution of hanging it up as soon as I unpacked. So I had to haul out the ironing board and iron that come with every suite. Thank God they do! I've said in a couple of other blog posts that I'm meticulous when it comes to my grooming and hygiene at parties. Now I know that my shirt was eventually going to wrinkle from being tucked and untucked during the course of the evening. But I wanted to walk into the party room that first time looking like someone who cared about her appearance. I ironed that shirt with all that was in me, even creasing the sleeves as my grandmother had taught me years ago when ironing was still something housewives did at least once a week. I tend to fret over my appearance. My hair, clothes and make up have to be "just right" before I'll leave the friendly confines of my hotel room. I don't know if this is just vanity on my part or if something in the way I was raised made me extra conscious of this. Anyway, whatever the reason, I worked on myself until I finally looked in the mirror, took a deep breath and said 'This is as good as it's going to get.' So off I went. The first person I played with was someone I hadn't played with in two years. He lives out east and so doesn't get to come to every party. He brought along a very sweet young lady this time. I don't know if she was a sub or if he was just mentoring her or what their relationship was. I didn't really want to ask because I was afraid the answer would be one of those tiresome "he's-helping-me-grow-and-become-a-better-person" type of explanations that I just don't have time to try and sort out. I'm not putting down anyone who is in a D/s or mentoring situation, believe me. Nor am I putting down people who do the mentoring. I think, for some people, it can really help. I just don't care for that aspect of the scene. At any rate, she was too shy to talk to anyone and would usually lower her eyes if someone caught her looking at them. She was very young, too and might have been a bit overwhelmed. This particular Top had been too worried about bringing toys on his flight to Chicago, so all he had besides his hand was his belt. Now I came to terms with belts as being part of the scene a long time ago. But for awhile, I just couldn't do them. There were just way too many bad memories there. Well, maybe not bad, but certainly unpleasant. I was surprised by how much we laughed and enjoyed ourselves during this session. The last time I had played with him, he'd struck me as uncommonly serious. Maybe that was just his mood at that time, but for whatever reason, he had totally lightened up and we had a great time. Man, can that guy swing a belt!
My next scene was also with a "belter". I don't know what it was (maybe something in the water?) but I saw a lot more belts at this party than I normally see. I don't know the reason for it. Maybe because a lot of the men wore costumes that seemed to feature them? Could be. Anyway, I went to this guy's room and as soon as I was over his knee, he said 'So...another naughty girl who needs a spanking!' I literally couldn't keep from laughing. I said 'Is that really the line you're gonna go with?' He said something like 'Well, it's true, isn't it?' And I had to say 'Look, I just get spanked because I love it...please don't ruin it for me by calling me a bad girl. I'm sure there are plenty of other women here who faint when they hear that, but I'm just not into scolding at all. So would you please just spank me and cut out the quasi roleplay?' I didn't want to hurt his feelings, but if he wanted to roleplay, he should've said so before we went to his room. He went out of his way to try to impress me with how hard he could spank. I got the impression that he didn't play like this very often because he was soon so out of breath he had to stop for a minute. Perhaps I was being punished for my quasi roleplay quip? I can't say for sure but although I enjoyed the session, I don't know that he enjoyed it that much. When he finally couldn't take anymore and ended our session, he helped me stand up and said 'You're hard work!' He wasn't laughing when he said it either. I thanked him for the session and headed back to the party suite. There I ran into my blogging buddy, Dr. Ken. Playing with him came about because the person I was looking for was nowhere to be found and Ken was right there. I had put Ken on my "must have" list for this party and was determined to stick to it, even if it meant he would be the last of the night before I went to bed. Now because I had just played and was still sore, we played pretty lightly. Ken isn't a bruiser and I don't mean that in a bad way at all. Ken knows I like to play hard and I know that that isn't really his style. But I enjoy his company so much and he spanks so nicely that I can never let a party go without playing with him (although it's happened more times than I want to admit). In the instances where we haven't been able to play, we have at least spent some time talking to each other.
As we walked back to the party suite, I could smell something wonderful cooking. It was beef stew made from scratch by our leader, a retired chef. I couldn't wait for dinner. I also played with a Dom friend of mine who I've known almost since the very beginning. He knows as long as he doesn't try to boss me around, we'll be fine. He also knows that when he's in the mood to really pound on someone, all he has to do is come find me and I will oblige him. He spanked, strapped, paddled and caned me incredibly hard and I didn't have any lasting marks to show for it. In some way that I'm sure will strike some as perverse, I miss the days when I marked. Now I think about the only way to leave lasting marks on me is to go right to the cane and skip the warm up, something I'm not willing to do no matter how much I want marks.
I met some very interesting new people at this party, most of them quite young. It really did my heart good to see this. I really thought our group was getting a bit old and a nice injection of youth can only help. I sat and had very pleasant conversation with them. But it only made me wish I had started in the scene when I was that young.
I sat and rested (really rested this time) and talked some more and pretty soon they were announcing that dinner was served. I couldn't wait to get my hands on that stew. For me, it's the ultimate comfort food. However, because I'm German, I had to pour my stew over bread and butter because the meal just wasn't starchy enough for me. The meal was hot and very satisfying. Of course, I think spanking is like swimming--you should wait at least 30 minutes after eating before doing it. So I went back to my room to get a drink and wouldn't you know it? Everyone and their kid brother was in our room, it seemed. It was almost like a public room. You couldn't get another person in the room with a shoehorn. People were stopping by to show their costumes and to see how the night was going for us. It was just very nice. We took some pictures and then I decided to see if I could find someone to play with me. I found a Top from Indiana who I hadn't played with in quite some time and asked him to play. He was dressed as a college professor in robe and mortarboard. We had a wonderful session in his room. I asked him if he had been playing a lot and he said he hadn't. This astounded me. An excellent Top like him and he wasn't playing very much? Why ever not? He told me in all seriousness that he's picky about whom he plays with and that me and Cigi are on the shortlist of ladies he will never turn down. To say that I was flattered was an understatement. I told him I appreciated the compliment. We shared a hug and he led me back to the public room. Just as I was rounding the corner, I saw another Top I had been anxious to play with. I had first met him at the July party and he had come down to Peoria the very next week to play with us. It had been a blast and I told him whenever it was possible, he was welcome to return. He asked me to play and I had to turn him down for the moment. I explained that I had just played hard and needed about a half hour to rest. He said he would come back then, but I had a funny feeling this was going to be one session that wasn't going to happen. At parties, things move at an unbelievable pace. He might find someone to play and then, when I'm fully rested and ready to play again, he might be tired from playing and need a rest himself. But precisely one half hour later, he peeked his head around the corner and asked if I was ready. Oh, was I ever! Of course, he used a mix of his toys and mine. He added something I hadn't felt before. Most of us who have felt this devilishly stingy toy simply call it the "bitch switch". It has another name, but I don't remember what it is. This thing is a small piece of very thing metal of some sort. You hold it up against the target and let it go. This thing is pure sting. Another Top is threatening to get one since he's seeing all the reaction it's getting from us brats. It did leave some very pretty marks though. I went back out to sit in the hallway on a row of chairs when someone told me Cigi had just gone off with one of our favorite Tops. I hadn't seen this guy since that morning when he had returned from shopping with his girl. I was dying to see his costume. About fifteen minutes later, Cigi came around the corner. She had a huge smile on her face, but admitted that this Top had ended her. It was time to call it a night. I wanted some of that and asked her what room he was in. She was so floaty she couldn't remember, but someone else supplied the room number and off I went. When I got to the room, I knocked on the door. His girl answered. She's an adorable lady although I don't know her very well. She informed me that her Sir had just finished off my sister. To which I replied 'I know. I came for the same thing.' He must have heard me because he came to the door, tipping his cowboy hat. 'Step right in, ma'am.' Yeah, I know it's corny but he was so cute I couldn't say anything. I admired his Stetson and the cowboy shirt he was wearing. He said he had gotten it from a real rodeo he had attended the previous month in Oregon. I had no idea he was a rodeo fan. He determined that I was already sufficiently warmed up (he made the old joke about frying an egg on it...again, corny but sweet) and began a very intense strapping that made me wish I had waited a little longer playing with him. It didn't last too long because he soon spotted blood and decided it was time to quit. I asked if it was bad and he inspected the damage and proclaimed the spots as minute. I asked his girl if she would please go to my room and get my first aid kit out of my purse. I even reached into my jeans, which were down around my ankles and gave her my key card. I never go to a party without my first aid kit just for this reason. She was only gone a second as we were right down the hall from them. This Top put some arnica on my bottom and fussed and fretted over the damaged he'd caused. I told him not to worry, it happened to me often. Then I told them both they had a standing invitation to come to Peoria anytime they wanted to and we would roll out the red carpet for them. They both seemed intrigued but I don't know if this will ever happen. I hugged them both and headed off to bed.
I was awake and had my breakfast and a shower before Cigi was even out of bed. We had decided to meet our ride by the elevators at 11:00 and as the time approached, I felt more and more like I didn't want to leave. Cigi shot a very cute short film while touring the room just before we left. We said our goodbyes the those that we ran into as we headed to the elevators to meet our ride. We hit the road on time and made good time getting home. We saw an SUV turned over in a ditch on the way home but that was the only damper to a perfect ride.
Now all I have to do is wait eight more days for the Our Need And Desire party. ON&D is run by my blogging buddy, Purple Angel. Of course, I'll write a full report on that weekend as well.