Saturday, December 19, 2009

Spanking Music

My old buddy, Jerry, used to have a saying: "If we all liked the same thing, we'd all like Adam And The Ants". Truer words were never spoken.

All I know is I get another chance to indulge my love of both spanking and music.

For those of you who don't know or aren't old enough to remember Adam And The Ants, a little background is needed. Adam Ant (born Stuart Goddard) formed his group, The Ants, in the late 70's. They were famous for a couple of things. First, they were one of the few bands I'd seen (apart from the Alman Brothers and .38 Special) with two drummers. Secondly, they were what used to be called a "costume band", with outfits that were 18th century meets 80's New Wave.

Adam certainly had the BDSM penchant for costuming and leather. My first exposure to this rather interesting English band was through MTV in 1982. I loved the video for "Stand And Deliver" so my friend, Jerry, got me a copy through an import record shop in California. The day it arrived, I ripped open the package and put it on my turntable (this was before CD's mind you). Once I played the song a few times and looked at the gorgeous picture sleeve, I flipped the record over and played the B-side.

In those days, English bands had a habit of putting a song on the B-sides of their records that wasn't on the LP so it was a nice bonus. The song was called "Beat My Guest" and from the first line, I knew it was about spanking. Or, more accurately, beating.

"Well, tie me up, punish me with a stick."

Oh, this was interesting. I was 21 and in no way was I yelling to the world about my love of spanking. Not at that time. I played the song on headphones so my parents wouldn't hear it. Then I heard the refrain:

"Well, I'm black and blue, baby, I love you.

Be your dog, just don't flog.

Yes, and hear me plead, make me bleed."

I knew Adam must be into some pretty dark things. I began to buy up whatever I could get from this band. The fact that Adam, with his patrician features and high cheek bones, was pretty easy to look at made it all the better. I bought their two best knows albums, "Kings Of The Wild Frontier" and "Prince Charming". Then I was lucky enough to find their first LP, called "Dirk Wears White Socks" (a nod to British actor Dirk Bogarde). On that very first LP was a song called "Whip In My Valise". The entire song is about spanking, caning and whipping. My gosh, Adam even says the word! Although, the British use the word smacking and not spanking. Maybe he wanted to sound more American? Not too sure. I'd known for awhile that spanking existed in music. I'd heard "Bad Boys Get Spanked" from The Pretender's second LP. I was suitably scandalized. Didn't Chrissy know that boys DO the spanking, not get them? At least Madonna got it right with "Hanky Panky", about a woman's need to get spanked. But back then, hearing "Beat My Guest" for the first time, I was so shocked. Someone was actually singing about something I longed to do (although I didn't want to bleed, thank you). I suppose nowadays, it's much more accepted and mainstream to sing about being into spanking or BDSM. But back then, it was totally new, at least to me.

I'd be glad to hear of any songs my readers might want to discuss on this topic. Not time to write more unfortunately. Have a spanking good day, everyone.

Thursday, November 26, 2009

Our Need And Desire Party Report Part II

When I awoke the next morning, my first concern was for Cigi. Because of some of the meds she's on, she has what I call "morning sickness". The nausea is worst when she first wakes up and then fades as the morning progresses. By nine A.M. she felt good enough to go get some breakfast. Like most hotels, this one offered a free breakfast until 10 o'clock. There were all the usual items---eggs, bacon, cereal, bagels, yogurt, etc. To be honest, the eggs were probably powdered institutional stuff and not all that good. But I was famished so I ate them (with ketchup on them, my usual condiment) and some bacon. I also had some cranberry juice to drink. I always drink cranberry juice at parties if it's available. This is to cleanse my system and also it's nice to drink something healthy after a night of drinking nothing but soda. When I first started in the scene and was attending my first parties, I almost always woke up on the second day with a little blood in my urine, an indication that I was playing way too hard. I have never taken a blow directly to my kidneys, but I think they have absorbed the "aftershock" of some very hard hits. I know I'm still a hard player, but I feel I have toned it down a little bit over the years. People have called me a pain slut and I usually bristle at it (I bristle at being referred to as a slut in any context anyway). But I have to admit that pain is my thing. I love knowing that I can take, process and enjoy a very hard session. So someone told me years ago "If you're going to play like that, drink plenty of cranberry juice." I started that at the first party where we stayed in a hotel and it's a habit that I've continued to the present day.

After a filling breakfast, Cigi and I went back to our room. I had grabbed a free newspaper off the table and was working the crossword puzzle. We were just sort of having a lazy morning. It had felt so good to see my buddy, Purple Angel, after almost a year, but it also felt good to see other friends I had missed from the previous month's CM party. Added to my good mood was the fact that Cigi was going to have another good day and I was a pretty happy girl. But the biggest surprise was yet to come.

We went to the party suite to see if anyone was there yet. To our surprise, there were quite a few people sitting around, still snacking on the left overs from the night before. An older gentleman came over to me and asked me if I would like to accompany him to the spanking bench. Those were his exact words. Well, I thought, why not? I hadn't played yet and I sort of wanted to so I said OK. I went over to the bench and got comfortable. He was whispering some things to me, but since he was on the side my deaf ear is on, I couldn't hear him. I'm pretty sure it was the typical dom stuff like "Are you being a good girl?" and all that stuff I really don't want to hear at my age. He's a good spanker, but a little "touchy-feely" for my taste. He's the kind that likes to rub your back and legs and stroke your hair. All that stuff that I lose patience with very quickly. I politely instructed him to stop doing those other things and just spank me. With that, he removed his belt and began to whip me. I was somewhat shocked because it seemed like he was punishing me for not letting him give me a spinal adjustment. I'm sure, in his mind, he was really bringing it. But for me, the blows were nothing I couldn't handle. When he finished with the belt, he hand spanked me some more. He does hand spank well when he's not engaged in all those other activities. I was beginning to feel a little sore so I asked him to wrap it up, which he did. There were wipes to clean off the bench and I grabbed one and wiped it down, which we had been instructed to do. He thanked me for a good time and I returned to my seat next to Cigi. I told her about what had happened with the guy and she poo-poohed the notion that he had punished me. I didn't want to make a big deal out of it (especially if I was wrong) so I let it drop.

Now I have to stop here for just a moment and give you a little background on Cigi. Back in the 70's I had some pen pals. One lived here in Illinois, one lived in Canada, one lived in England and one lived in Scotland. I looked forward to their letters as much as I hoped they looked forward to mine. Cigi became interested in the stamps that came on the envelopes. This led to becoming a stamp collector. It was a hobby she engaged in for a number of years and in fact, she still has her whole collection, in tact, just as it was so many years ago. She developed a rapport with a local stamp dealer, whose office was housed on the ground floor of a downtown office building. On one side of him was a deli that sold the best pastrami I have ever tasted and on the other side was the Nut House, a place that specialized in nuts. They had roasted pistachios that were to absolutely die for. Cigi joined the American Philatelic Society and, once she got her stamp with her APS membership number on it, began to receive approval sets. These came in a box and what you did was, when you found a stamp you wanted to buy, you would remove the stamp, then stamp the box with your APS stamp to indicate that you had purchased it and not stolen it. You sent a check or money order off to the APS and then mailed the approval set to the next person on the list (usually someone from your area). During the course of conversation, another gentleman discovered that Cigi had once been a stamp collector and asked her if she'd like to go with him to a stamp show at another hotel. She said that sounded like fun. I had some concerns though because we didn't know this guy real well. I wasn't enthusiastic about my cancer stricken sister going off with some stranger (whose last name I didn't even know). But she assured me she'd be fine and PA told me she would trust Cigi with him with no reservations whatsoever. So off they went. Meanwhile, since I now had nothing to do, I was invited to join a group of people who were going to a barbecue place in the next town for lunch. PA was going so I said OK. We were going in the SUV of a married couple and while we waited for him to bring the car around to the front door for us, the guy who was making a nuisance of himself (the one I'd played with the night before and had not wanted me to leave) practically invited himself along. He was looking for another ON&D member to go to lunch with and when we said we hadn't seen her, he said something to the tune of "I guess I can just ride along with you guys." It was going to be a tight squeeze with those of us who were already going. One more person wasn't going to fit in the car. Before we could say anything to him, our chariot arrived and we simply walked away and left him there. I know it was rude. But this guy never seemed to get the point. I hated doing that to him but we were in a hurry and really didn't have time to explain to him that it was rude to invite yourself somewhere. It was an absolutely gorgeous day---warm (for late November anyway) and incredibly bright. The weather in Peoria the preceding two weeks had been nothing but cold and rain so I was enjoying our little excursion even more than I normally would. When we got there, the place was still a little busy, with stragglers from the lunch rush finishing up their drinks and happily visiting. The music was vintage 70's rock (the kind they play on my favorite radio station here at home) and I was really enjoying the atmosphere. The food was really good, but like most restaurants, there was just too much of it so I asked for a to go container, which the waiter brought quickly. It had been a very enjoyable meal. When we got back to the hotel, I was somewhat perplexed to see Cigi lying on her bed resting. I hadn't expected her to be back so soon. She informed me that both she and the man she'd gone with had agreed that there was just too much walking involved (both Cigi and her companion were using canes to walk with) so they had simply come back. I was disappointed for her, as I know she still loves to look at stamps. But at least I knew nothing had happened to her. Even though I had enjoyed the meal tremendously and had participated in the lively conversation, I had had a vague, uneasy feeling about Cigi going off with someone we didn't know, even if he did have the Purple Angel Seal of Approval. It's just my nature to worry and especially to worry about Cigi. As soon as she saw my container of food, she opened it and began to devour what was left of my sandwich and cole slaw. At least it wasn't going to waste.

A little later, we returned to the party suite. It was pretty much barren except for the people who were setting it up for dinner. I knew dinner was a few hours off (anyway, my stomach was still full from lunch) so I looked around to see if I could snag someone for some play. The first guy I saw was a switch, who I remember from last year's party had gotten into some trouble for showing off his knives (the ones his mistress uses on him for knife play) in the party suite. He had had to be talked to more than once about that if I remember correctly. But I think he was feeling a bit more toppy at this party. He asked if I wanted to play and, like the others, I thought why not? It might be fun. First of all, this guy is way into scolding and other things associated with punishing a bad little girl. Ugh! I told him to knock off the scolding, that this was just going to be a fun little spanking session. I also had to specifically tell him that nothing sexual was going to happen and that I didn't want any "accidental" touching of places he knew better than to touch. He let me know he understood all of this. I think he was afraid I would beat him or something. He told me he was a "light to moderate" spanker. Yeah, right. I'm a hard player by most peoples' standards so imagine my surprise when, once the warm up was over, he proceeded to beat the crap out of me. I'm not saying I didn't enjoy it because I did enjoy it. But it just surprised me coming from a guy who had just told me he didn't spank hard. He had a nice selection of toys, but like most of the others, his looked somewhat cheap and badly made. He had flown in from out of state (way out of state, if I recall) and had had to make do with just bringing a few. We actually had a really fun session. I was feeling pretty sore and a little floaty so I returned to the party suite. Dinner still wasn't ready yet. A friend of mine from Wisconsin was in the room so I made time to speak with her. She informed me that some people were coming to see the three of us (her, me and Cigi) later. I knew exactly who she was talking about. We had missed them at CM. After the CM party, he actually left a message on my Fetlife wall that his straps had missed us. So I had that to look forward to. We continued our conversation and pretty soon, dinner was served. It was really good. I'm amazed even after all this time of coming to parties how hungry you can get from being spanked or spanking someone. It's a lot of hard work. I ate until I was satisfied and in short order the contests commenced. These were supposed to be all in good fun. The first contest was the Cutest Panties Contest. PA asked who, of us ladies, wanted to come up and model our panties for the audiences' approval. Four of us raised our hands. Me, my friend from Wisconsin, the wife of my first spanker, and another lady who I had been seeing at CM parties for years. The four of us went to the front of the room and, one by one, showed our panties. I had been quietly confident that mine would win. I had been watching the public players and didn't see one pair of panties that even approached mine in the cuteness department. They were white with ruffles and multi-colored hearts. Not something I would wear under normal circumstances, but I thought there was no way I wouldn't win and I was right. I did win. So I got to come up and pick a prize. I took a moment to look over what was there and took away a crooked handled acrylic cane. It had come from Can-iacs, one of the companies that was co-sponsoring this party. I couldn't wait to feel it. The next contest was a Best Panties for the men. Let me tell you, most men don't care if their underwear is cute or not. Most of them don't even care if they have hash marks in them. All the men were older men and their underwear (and what it covered) wasn't even worth mentioning. It was horrifying. I could've gone my whole life and not seen these guys drop their drawers. The guy who won had won at the previous party and had been told he couldn't win with the same attire twice. He had been wearing a red thong and black thigh highs. On a woman, this would've been a very nice ensemble. But on an old man, it was painful. He chose the nastiest toy on the table, a paddle that was rubber on one side and some un-Godly material on the other. It just figured he would choose it. The next contest was for the Nastiest Toy. Three of the four of us who had modeled our panties volunteered for this all-important duty. In all fairness, I think the contest would have been better done if someone willing to swing the toys hard had done it. But I guess they decided to err on the side of caution. Cigi entered two toys--out lexan paddle and a razor strap. Neither of which won, I might add. The winner was this icky little toy that no one had wanted to play with. With the festivities over, I went over and asked my long lost first spanker if he wanted to play. He did so off we went to my room. He showed me the toys he had and it was obviously his taste hadn't changed that much since the last time I'd played with him. He sat on the edge of the bed and put me over one knee, just as he had done on that March afternoon so many years ago. He spanked me on my jeans to start. I could feel some stinging getting through the heavy denim. Finally, he said "Well, I think your jeans have been punished enough." He spanked me over my prize winning panties for a while, using toys that were suited to that position. We tried nearly all of his toys, except for the ones that I wasn't interested in. Next, it was time to go over the bed for some really good strapping. He took some pictures for me.

When I asked why he hadn't caned me, he replied that he hadn't been able to find them after a recent move. Since we were in my room and my toy bags were right behind him, I invited him to use one of mine. I remembered why I had fallen in love with the cane. He had been the one who introduced me to it. After an awesome caning, it was time to wrap it up. I was so sore I could hardly move. That's what had really been missing from this party--someone who could really spank and do it really well. Hard is one thing and I don't knock hard because it's what I like. But there's more to it than that. There's technique and there's communication.

When I was finished playing with him, I went back to the party suite. Cigi was gone, off playing, I assumed. I had played the previous year with a lady top who came with her husband from Wisconsin and they were both here again. I wanted to play with the lady badly. We had had a very good public scene at that other party and I figured having a whole year to improve upon her technique, it would be even more fun to play with her. I went over and asked her if she wanted to play, but she was waiting for her husband to come back to the party from work and wanted to be there when he returned. So I waited. It turned out that I had to wait about two hours for him to come back...his job was in Wisconsin. When I saw him walk into the party suite, she was really happy to see him. I went over and hugged him and asked him how his trip had been. I didn't want to keep him from his wife, but I just wanted to welcome him back. I hadn't gotten to talk to him the previous night. When the wife had had time to see him, she beckoned me over and told me we could play now. So off the three of us went to our room. Cigi arrived soon afterwards so we had a nice little party in our room. The lady top was unwilling to spank me as hard as I wanted her to. She said "but, my love, you're so sore now. It wouldn't be very responsible of me." So we played fairly lightly. Then an unfortunate thing happened. There was a knock on the door. I was lying on the bed with my pants down. It could've been anyone at the door. It was the worst person it could possibly have been--it was that guy who was a pain in the ass. Apparently, Cigi and Purple were supposed to double him. I could see the lady top's face and she was unhappy with him being there and with our scene being broken up. She had wanted to watch Cigi spank her husband. Instead, we were treated to Cigi and PA doubling this obnoxious buffoon. His winy attitude wasn't the worst part of the scene. That would be the fart he let in the middle of the whole thing. It stank up the entire room for a long time. I think if you're going to do that, you should warn others in the room that you're about to let one and it's going to smell really bad. But no, there was no warning. When PA and Cigi got tired of topping him, the lady top took over. Unlike my sister and my friend, this lady had no health problems that kept her from unloading on him, which she did. But I was somewhat jealous. I had wanted her to spank me that hard. She really put this guy through his paces. Finally, he left. I was so happy to finally have him leave. I know this sounds rude. But he was just the sort of person who gets on my nerves. I couldn't wait to Febreeze the room. You have to know that, since Cigi and I live in a two room apartment with three cats, our world turns on Febreeze. To me, it's one the greatest things ever invented.

About that time, there was another knock on the door. It was our friend, Freckles, who had come to see us and our friend, S. She was trying to get her top to come to the hotel so we could all play. Well, when Freckles arrived, she saw the lady top's husband there and they sort of conducted an impromptu belly dancing class, complete with zils (those symbol-like things they wear on their hands). We had a good time watching her trying to exhort him with cries of "pretty hands". It was a riot! She even made a little movie. It was very cute. Then she called S and had her come to our room. It really looked like her top wasn't going to make it. So while we were visiting (the talk ran the gamut from bras to toys) the phone rang. It was her top and he was on his way! She told him he'd better hurry because "you have a couple of twins here that are fading fast!" He got there about ten minutes later. I was really happy to see him. It made the party for me. We decided to go to S's room. Cigi, unfortunately, couldn't join us. Her stomach was in kind of bad shape. The top hugged Cigi and kissed her goodbye, telling her to get some sleep.

The rest of us headed off to S's room to play. This particular top has to whole thing going for him---good looking, sense of humor, listens well and spanks hard. He's one of my absolute favorites even though he's 20 years younger than I am. We spent about two hours getting spanked, strapped and paddled with a frat paddle.

It was the most awesome part of the whole party for me. I know Cigi was disappointed that she'd had to beg off and he regretted it, too. But he understood that she just didn't have the stamina that the rest of us have. But to be honest, I would probably get off my deathbed to play with this guy. By the time I called it a night, I was so sore and so tired I could barely drag myself to my room. How I managed I really don't remember. But I had the satisfaction of knowing that the party had ended on a high note for me. I slept soundly that night (mostly on my stomach, I can assure you) and didn't even bother to wake Cigi for breakfast. I snuck down to the lobby for some quick food and happened to run into my two cohorts from the night before. They asked if I wanted to go to IHOP with them but I had to decline since I had to get packed for the trip home.

I was sorry to see this party end. It was really a great party, made all the better by the appearance of one of my favorite tops. Hopefully, it won't be two months before I blog again.

Wednesday, November 25, 2009

Our Need And Desire Party Report Part I

Before I fill you in on all the details of my party weekend, let me apologize to those who read this blog for the fact that I haven't made a new entry in more than two months. I'm so sorry. Maybe I should be spanked for that? Suffice to say that life had taken up more of my time than I wanted it to. But I'm back now and with a party report to boot.

For those of you who don't know, the Our Need And Desire group is run by my dear friend, Purple Angel. She has had some health issues lately so I was really anxious to see her, let alone party. We'd missed Crimson Moon so this was sort of like a make up weekend for that. It was an awesome weekend.

First off, Cigi had a doctor appointment that morning so it was up early for us. It was the whole shebang this time---labs, see the doctor, and an IV drip of Zometa, which they give her for her bones. We expected to be out by noon, but it was almost one before we got home (and, of course, I wasn't done packing yet!). The lady who drove us was my nephew's sometime girlfriend but since she lives with my sister and brother-in-law, they are still on friendly terms. She was absolutely wonderful, carrying some of our bags down to the car for us (our toy bags!) and making sure Cigi was comfortable in the backseat before we took off. Because it was after 2 pm before we hit the road, we did encounter some traffic as we neared the hotel. However, it wasn't as bad going in as it looked like it was going out. I secretly felt bad for her because the return trip was going to be hellacious. But I didn't think about that as we approached the hotel. I was too excited about seeing my friend, Purple, again. I hadn't seen her since she came to stay with us after Cigi's knee surgery the previous December so we had a lot of catching up to do.

I had some catching up to do with someone else as well. About a month before the party, I saw that the man who had given me my very first adult spanking was also attending. It had been almost five years since I'd seen him and I was excited about the prospect of seeing him and, hopefully, playing with him again.

Now I related in my July Crimson Moon report what a hassle check in had been for that party. Here, there was none of that. This was probably due to the fact that I reserved the room personally whereas, for CM someone else had booked the room. When we got to our room, it was perfect. It had two double beds and was clean as a whistle. I love this hotel. It's not fancy, but it's perfect for spanking parties. I'm not one of those people that needs a $500-a-night room to spank in. Cigi and I got unpacked and then I took a bath. With the morning being taken up with her appointment, there simply hadn't been time to do this at home. I go with her to her appointments whenever I can because I don't want to have regrets later that I wasn't there for her when she needed me. But we actually got good news that day--her tumor markers were down for the first time in almost a year. So Cigi and I were both feeling particularly good that day. Since she had been smart and bathed and shaved the night before, she was ready to go long before I was. By the time I got cleaned up and got my face put on, she had already been in the party room for a while. She had seen our friend, Purple Angel, and others who had been worried about her (many people who attend ON&D are also CMer's) since we'd missed the Crimson Moon party. I caught up with everyone, including that man who had given me my first spanking. But he wasn't the first person I played with. The first man I played with was a switch who had come from out of state to attend and was only going to be there for one night. He had come with another woman, who I was meeting for the first time. When he asked me to play, he invited his companion to join us. I had a feeling she would've been jealous had he not invited her. First he spanked me; over my jeans at first, then on the bare. The woman watched his every move. Then she spanked her, using some of my toys, which I'd brought with me. Then she spanked him (he was a switch, after all). I would've enjoyed the scene a lot more if she hadn't been there. Now don't misunderstand when I say that. I have no problem with other people being in the room when I play. It was her jealous eye that bothered me. She literally watched every move he made while he spanked me. I have to admit I was a little uncomfortable with the whole thing and was glad when it was over. Not only had he had to watch his every move he had to be careful about what he said, too. I didn't get the vibe that they were a couple...but she sure seemed to want me to get that impression.

I went back to the party room and got something to eat. We had stopped at an Arby's on the way, but that had been hours ago. I was famished by this time. One thing I'll credit my friend PA for and that is that her parties always have good food. I mean, what's a party without stuff to munch on? It seemed everything was available. I had a croissant with turkey, cheese and lettuce on it. I added mayo myself because I hate dry sandwiches. There were chips and crudites and sweets and almost anything else you'd want at a party, including plenty of soft drinks and water. Purple Angel had called me the day before (when I was at work) and left me a message letting me know that she would have Mountain Dew available because she knew we like it. So of course, I grabbed one. I don't know who catered the food but it was wonderful. I kept an eye on Cigi, making sure she ate something, too. When she doesn't have an appetite, it's not a good sign. She had dropped 40 pounds since the previous year's party. But she was eating and laughing so I figured all was well with her. That helped me enjoy the party even more; knowing I didn't have to worry about her. She calls this behavior "hovering" and it's something she hates so I try really hard not to do it. But there are times when I just can't help it. Like when she isn't getting around as well and needs her cane to walk with or, as I said, when she doesn't have an appetite. Loss of appetite in a cancer patient isn't good. But we weren't thinking about any of that on this particular night. The mood in the party room was happy and joyous and so we got into the spirit, too. There was happy chatter and the sound of food being devoured. Every once in a while, someone would decide to avail themselves of the spanking bench that was set up in one corner of the room. It was the same spanking bench we'd seen and used at the July CM party. It was wide and soft and really comfortable. I made up my mind to play on it at least once before the weekend was up. When I went over to throw out my trash, I got another offer to play. My stomach was full but not dangerously so so I said OK. This guy was someone I had totally avoided at the previous year's party. He looked mean and dirty to me. I think someone must have had a little talk with him because, while he still appeared fairly grubby, his demeanor was much more friendly. He hadn't even approached me at last year's party. I got the impression he expected the ladies to do the asking. But I had made up my mind to be more sociable at this party. I was going to give everyone a chance. I might not play with everyone who asks me, but I was at least going to give them a chance. Looking back, I can see that, at some parties, my behavior was less than welcoming. Realizing, of course, that I have the right to play with whom I want to play with and to refuse those I don't, that doesn't give me the right to be rude. So when this guy asked me to play, I thought "Why not?" and off we went. When we got to his room, he showed me his toys. He was obviously very proud of them. He had flown in so he hadn't been able to bring all of his toys, so he said he'd brought a little of everything. We talked about his medical infirmities (caused by advancing age) and about Cigi's issues. He asked what toys I wanted used on me. There hadn't been a lot to choose from. All of them looked cheap and a few looked very poorly made. Probably hand made. But I didn't want to insult him. Maybe just paying the party fee, buying a round trip plane ticket and paying for two nights in a hotel had been all he could afford. I picked a few of the less dangerous-looking toys he offered and we got underway. He was a dominant and made no bones about it. I told him I wasn't a sub and made no bones about that either. He told me, rather condescendingly, that "Young ladies who get spanked are submissive, at least for the time they're being spanked." I tried really hard not to laugh at this uninformed opinion. Instead, I told him that submissives have the desire to serve and be pleasing in their hearts. I don't have any of that. I just like to be spanked. He chuckled and told me I could live in my denial if I wanted to. His dismissive laugh almost made me leave right then and there. Instead I told him he was entitled to his opinion and that it wasn't his fault he didn't know any better. But I told him it was a pity he didn't make an effort to better inform himself before making generalizations. He said "I'm an old dog. I can't learn new tricks now." Well, that was fair enough, I supposed. But that still didn't make it right for him to subscribe to the old "any young lady who gets spanked is submissive" argument. He treated me like a sub in training during the entire scene. He also wanted to see what I could take, obviously. I think I had a higher tolerance than he was used to because he kept asking me if I wanted to use my safeword. I told him no, I wasn't even close to that, which seemed to disappoint him. All I could do was shrug it off. It's not like the scene totally didn't work for me. He spanked hard the way I like it but not too hard. His toys weren't deadly. He did need to improve his caning technique but I didn't say so. When we were done, I was heading back to the party room when another man asked me to play. This guy was a royal pain the entire weekend. I told him I had just finished playing and needed to rest. He then told me he had something for me in his room. I had heard this guy used ruses to get girls to his room, where, once there, they feel they can't refuse his offer to play. Especially once he's gifted them with something. So, in order to get him to leave me alone, I went. The party suite and every one's rooms were on the first floor so it made getting to and from rooms discreetly much easier. The front desk staff had just seen me come out of one man's room and I was now going into another. But they knew what we were doing. When we got to the man's room, he gave me a small box of chocolates. I thanked him and told him to come back to the party room in half an hour and find me. He asked me to stay and talk with him. I really didn't want to. But, like the other guy, I felt it was best to play with him or I wasn't going to get a moment's peace the whole weekend. I sat down on the couch while he sat across the room on the bed. I learned he was married with grown kids. We had a love of baseball in common so we talked about that. I really can't remember what else we discussed but I thought we'd better get this going or I was going to be there all night. He didn't spank half bad, but he kept up a running commentary during which he wanted me to give him feedback on every whack. This isn't how I like to play. I like conversation as much as the next girl, but he never stopped talking and he wanted me to keep telling him how well he was doing. I asked him politely to please be quiet and just spank me. If something was wrong I would let him know. I never got to relax or truly enjoy the spanking. This was the reason I think most women don't want to play with him. Well, that and his whiny attitude. Once he was done spanking me he didn't want me to leave. He expected me to stay and talk to him some more. I told him politely that I had given him an hour of my time and that was more than I gave most people I play with during a party. He pouted but let me leave. I was glad he'd decided to stay in his room (probably to pout some more) and not follow me back to the party room. I didn't even want to be seen with him. He made me so mad. He has to be the most insecure person I've met in the scene. I was glad to let him see the back of me.

When I returned to the party suite, the group had thinned out. People were playing privately or some (like Cigi) had gone to bed. It had been a long and tiring day for her. On the way back from treatment that afternoon, she had vomited while she was driving (the reason she keeps an emesis basin with her at all times) and I feared we were going to miss this party, too. But once she gets sick, she usually feels a lot better. Some of the treatments make her nauseous and I try my hardest to understand what she's going through.

I only played three times that whole first night. I attributed that to the late start we'd gotten and the fact that their were few attractive spankers there. And by "attractive" I don't mean good looking. That's not really even important to me. What I mean by attractive is spankers I would find interesting to play with. That would change the next night.

Thursday, September 10, 2009

Clothes Make the Bottom

Today I went out a did a little clothes shopping, some of which might make it into my suitcase for the October Crimson Moon party. I know it's still early September and the party is more than six weeks away, but because of the circumstances surrounding the July party, I didn't allow myself to get excited about it until the week before the actual party. This time, all of the obstacles have been cleared early and unless something awful happens, Cigi and I will be there.

For me, buying new clothes is one of life's simple pleasures. I'm not a shopaholic by any means (I would have to have an unlimited amount of funds for that) but I do enjoy it if there's a party lurking. I think about what I'll be wearing and how I will look getting spanked in it. Silly, huh? This is especially true for panties but also applies to jeans, skirts and tops. I think my love of new clothes goes back to my childhood. Cigi and I are the youngest of the four kids in our family. As a money saving device, Cigi and I wore a lot of hand-me-downs and homemade things. Now I'm not complaining about this. My grandma was great with a sewing machine. I can still picture her at her Singer, humming softly and the soft snip of her scissors as she cut a thread. I loved to sit and watch her make something. She made both my prom gowns and I had to be there to critique every move. However, as a child, it was different. Grandma even made our Barbie clothes. So getting anything new was a big deal. I loved back-to-school time because (besides Christmas) it was the only time we got new clothes, whether handmade or not. I guess that sort of feeling comes back to me whenever I get anything new.

I know a lot of tops like a woman to dress a certain way. Some favor skirts or dresses that can be lifted for easy access. Some prefer a bottom in tight jeans or pants. I've met all kinds. I guess the way the woman is dressed sort of sets the mood for the scene. I think a bottom dressed in perky "spank me" attire is adorable. I don't go for costuming at all, but I think some women are extremely spankable in just regular clothes, without the roleplay/fantasy aspect going on. Sure, there are plenty of guys who dig cheerleader uniforms. Many like the crisp pleats of a plaid skirt. Others like sheer, low cut blouses to set the mood for them. I once had a top tell me "You walk into the room in your jeans and sweater and you're instantly spankable". It was the highest compliment I've ever been paid in the scene.

So, people, what do you think? Do clothes really make the bottom? Or does it even matter? I have said before that I don't have a separate wardrobe for spanking and vanilla activities. I just don't have the money for it. Anyway, I much prefer my spankers to see me the way everyone else sees me. What you see is what you get.

Tuesday, August 18, 2009

Good Girls Don't

In 1979, I was a senior in high school and disco was still king of the music industry. Never having been a fan, I was encouraged to read in the music trade papers that it was dying out. In late spring, while my head was filled with thoughts of graduation, an album came out that got my attention. It was decidedly undisco. Looking back now, it feels very retro mid-sixties. But in 1979, it was a breath of fresh air. The album was released on Capitol Records (the same record company that The Beatles had been signed to) and the LP was the biggest selling debut album for a group on that label since The Beatles. Everyone was buzzing about it. The big hit off the album was, of course, "My Sharona". But the second single was the one that really stood out for me. "Good Girls Don't" had everything in it that was destined to make it a memorable hit--good beat, catchy vocals, and explicit lyrics (a very big deal in the days before rap made cursing commonplace on records). It was all about a guy trying to get "some" from the girl at school he has the hots for. All very high school.
Now, onto why I picked this particular song title as the title for tonight's entry. In the spanking scene, most of us females (the ones who are bottoms anyway) have certain things we won't do under any circumstances and some that we'll only do with certain people. The song serves as a reminder that there are things "good girls" don't do. Of course, it could be argued that "good girls" wouldn't dream of getting spanked because they enjoy it. I know there are women out there who will do anything with anybody, but I'm just not one of them. When it comes to my body, I stick with my principals. The girl in the song may poo pooh this by saying "good girls don't...but I do", but not Cheryl. And while it's been 30 years since I got my diploma and 30 years since The Knack burst on to the music scene with this memorable LP, I'm still a "good girl" at heart.

Tuesday, August 4, 2009

Crimson Moon Spanking Party Review--Day Three: Taking Care Of Business

Day Three of the party dawned cool and a little cloudy. Cigi and I had again been invited out for breakfast by the same gentleman who had taken us the previous day. This time, he asked our room mate to join us. Cigi begged off, saying she didn't feel up to going. I, of course, was worried about her. But she assured me, as she always does, that she was fine, just having a little pain. The gentleman who was taking us out suggested that we order something for her and bring it back to her. I thought this was a bit indulgent of him, but if he wanted to, who was I to say no? So, again, we took a cab to the same restaurant we had gone to the previous day. And why not? The food was good and the service was great. We had a fairly leisurely breakfast and then headed back to the hotel to catch some Zs. I know it must look like we nap an awful lot, but this is what a lot of people do at spanking parties in the afternoon. All of the fun stuff would come later.
We laid down for just a little bit and then headed down to the vendor's fair. For those of you who don't know what a vendor's fair is, allow me to explain. A vendor's fair consists of a group of tables upon which people who make and/or sell different wares sell their stuff. Anything scene related is allowed usually. Some sell toys they made. Some sell toys (usually antiques) that they have purchased and refurbished in some way. Some sell videos and DVD's. Some sell scene-appropriate attire. But whatever the product, we had bunches of tables set up and all of the vendors present did a steady business. We must have all been saving our pennies. Cigi and I purchased some very nice things--a thin lexan paddle (despite my claims that lexan is sick and no one will ever touch me with it), a short OTK cane (rattan of course), a fraternity paddle from Northwestern University, a Baltic birch paddle (small but affective), an acrylic cane in her favorite color (purple, naturally), a small bundle of acrylic rods (I think that's what they are anyway) and several other small and sundry items. We didn't spend a lot this time, money being a consideration and all. Of course, many of the toys had to be demoed before purchase and Cigi gamely bent over for this, even the lexan. All in all, a pretty good haul. One of the group leaders, who runs his own spanking video production company, gave us a copy of one of his DVD's. We had been watching from his table at the vendor's fair and expressed admiration of the movie. So he handed it over with his compliments. Since it was his birthday he may have felt a bit more giving than usual. But Cigi and I were extremely thankful for the gesture. One of our group leaders announced that, upon arriving for dinner that evening, we would all be given a raffle ticket because the vendors were going to be giving some of their stuff away as prizes. With that, Cigi and I headed back up to our room. Boredom was beginning to creep in and, in desperation, we turned on the TV. Cigi and I have long maintained that there's simply nothing worth watching on TV on the weekends; at least, not unless there's a baseball game on. While Cigi napped, I watched something on the National Geographic Channel about Bonnie and Clyde. Being a true crime buff, it was interesting. It beat watching "Mama's Family" anyway.
When the documentary was over, I went and got in the shower. When the hot water hit my bottom, it burned. Man, all that strapping the day before was catching up with me. I was so tender that I had had to decline when it came to demoing at the vendor's fair. When I came out of the shower, the maid was cleaning the room. At this particular hotel, they put a towel in front of the door to hold it open, then when they need something from their cart (which they stash in the hallway) they can pop out and get it without having to keep opening the door. She seemed shocked to see me wrapped in a towel, but she did say "Hello" to me. With the door being open, I was somewhat reluctant to get dressed at that moment, so I sat on the couch and waited for her to leave. She no sooner left than someone came moseying by to see if anyone wanted to play. I wanted to see if my bottom would stand up to some play so I said I did. Now I was still damp from the shower and wearing only a towel. Did I let that stop me from playing? No. I'm normally a very modest person and I normally guard my modesty with my life. But at a spanking party, things are a little different. Besides, this particular guy wasn't the least bit interested in my attire (or lack thereof). He just wanted to get at my bottom. Even though I had already played with him once, it had been such an enjoyable experience that I wanted to do it again. I only play with people more than once when I really like them. And I like this guy. We had a great time, of course. And I was surprised to learn that my tolerance was going to be pretty good after all. I thanked him for the spanking and he went on his way. I got dressed and Cigi worked another crossword puzzle.
When we went back downstairs, the vendors were putting their stuff away in preparation for the room to be re-opened to partiers. I finally did get to play with the gentleman who had so generously bought us breakfast two days in a row. We played on the couch while Cigi played in the bedroom with one of my favorite tops (the one that is so good at strapping). We went back downstairs and left Cigi and that wonderful top to play.
Later that evening, they served us a buffet dinner, painstakingly prepared by our President. He was a master chef, after all. The dinner was wonderful--hot and filling. He always puts so much thought and effort into the food. It was greatly appreciated because I was getting pretty hungry by this time.
Once our appetites had been satisfied, it was time to get court underway. Both Cigi and I opted out of court this time around. It was fun once, but now I really don't like it. It's just a chance for brats to make themselves even more obnoxious than they usually are. I used to participate and could brat with the best of them. Just not anymore. So I was looking around for someone to play with. Bill Sova, the reigning king of movie spankings, happened to be sitting right next to me. I went off to his room where he gave me a very nice spanking. Everyone knows that Bill doesn't spank all that hard. But I wanted a lighter spanking this time. We discussed a glitch on one of the Cinema Swats DVD's we owned and he assured me it would be fixed. He said it was on all the DVD's, not just ours and that he would find a way to eliminate it. And, of course, he said he would replace the other DVD for free. That's what I call a good businessman.
When I returned to the public room, court had adjourned and the atmosphere was relaxed. I went in search of a top I had been interested in playing with for some time. He runs his own website (despite having a public service job) that's spanking oriented and has a sub that keeps him busy. But he smiled broadly when I asked him to play. Apparently, he had wanted to ask me but thought I would turn him down. After telling his sub he was going to the room to play with me, we were off. I liked that he told her where he was going. I thought it was very considerate of him. It's something I haven't seen much of from some people. When we got up to his room, I was shocked at how cluttered it was. Someone was a pig! There was clothing and jewelry everywhere, in addition to soda cans and snack food bags. This guy's sub was very young (around 20 I would say) and the room had the look of a teenage girl's bedroom to it. He showed me his toys, pointing out the ones he thought I would like and telling me little tidbits of information about them. We started OTK, where he gave me a nice warm up. This surprised me, as the previous summer, someone else had had to warm me up in preparation for being caned by him. I thought he had come a long way. He confided that he had been taught by several people how to "do it" at parties. His thing is discipline and he knows now that that attitude needs to be toned down at parties. Once the warm up was over, he had me kneel on all fours on one of the nice leather ottomans that are provided with every room. Usually, I find this position uncomfortable, even on a bed. But the couch and the ottoman were very comfy. He asked if I was stable or if I felt I might fall or sink into the couch. We opted to put a couple of the throw pillows under me to stabilize me. Then he went to work with his straps. A couple of times, he wrapped, but it was inadvertent and not done on purpose. There was also a mishit with the cane, which was partly my fault because I moved just before the stroke was delivered. All in all I enjoyed this session a lot. But I knew it was going to be awhile before I could play again. I also worried that someone else I played with might see the cane stroke that mishit and think that someone had done it on purpose. But I wasn't a newbie. I knew what was safe and what wasn't. Mishits happen and are part of the risk we take. I headed back to the party suite and looked forward to visiting with people while I rested. I saw some nice public scenes. However, I still wanted to play later. It was getting late and I knew the party would soon be over. I began to feel those familiar pangs of regret for the people I didn't get to play with or even talk to very much. I saw my room mate sitting at another table. A new top (the one who had spanked me so nicely before bed on Thursday night) went over and started to talk to her. I watched as he pointed to me and then said something else to her. Then they started walking over to me. I wondered what he had in mind. I didn't have to wait long to find out. He wanted to know if I would like to share a spanking with my room mate. Of course I did! I can't remember too many times when that has happened so I jumped at the chance. We went to our room for this since I had a strap he was fond of. He put us side by side on the bed and spanked and strapped us. My room mate was very happy with his technique. I wondered if this little scene was happening because she had been afraid to play alone with this guy, who sort of looked like the metal head he was. But he was a sweetheart. She was certainly happy that she played with him. He offered to come back the next morning before we left and wake us up with a nice spanking. That sounded great to me. Since we were staying until check out time we didn't have to worry about getting up early. My room mate and I went off to bed. For once, I was more tired than Cigi was. She stayed up again to watch Baseball Tonight while I turned in. I hated the thought that the party was over and I would have to pack everything up and head back to the real world. I did miss my cats though and really wanted to sleep in my own bed. And the next party was only three months away. It's not like the nine months we had had to wait between parties.
The next morning, at 7:40 am, there was a knock on the door. It was him. He admitted he hadn't slept very much. To me, he looked like he hadn't been to bed at all. He spanked our room mate OTK, all the while exclaiming how adorable her bottom was. Then he put Cigi and I over the bed next to her and went to work with the strap again. It was a great way to end the party. When he was done he took some pictures (which both of us posted to our Fetlife profiles). Cigi actually spanked him first, with our room mate getting into the act, too. He's much more of a top, I think, but likes to bottom, too. He enjoyed both I'm sure.
Of course, I was sad that the party was over but what a way to end it. I had called our ride between breaks in the action and she assured me she was on her way. We got everything packed up and then got dressed (yes, we had all still been in our pajamas when the spankings took place). We took last looks around to make sure we hadn't forgotten anything. This happens more than you would think.
As soon as we got to the lobby, we saw our ride. She had brought her younger sister with her for this trip and so I knew my plan to lie down in the backseat wasn't going to happen. As with the trip up, everything was on schedule and uneventful. There were people I hadn't gotten to say goodbye to (this happens a lot, too) and I was already looking forward to the next party. In the meantime, I have some cool new friends to chat with and talk on the phone with until it rolls around.

Monday, August 3, 2009

Crimson Moon Spanking Party Review-- Part Two: Day Of The Strappings

For whatever reason, I didn't sleep well that first night. Sometimes it's just the first night in a new hotel. Sometimes, the mattress isn't to my liking. I'm not exactly sure what the problem was, but I tossed and turned most of Thursday night. And I had only played four times so a sore bottom wasn't the reason either. Besides, a sore bottom almost never keeps me awake. If anything, I sleep better with a sore bottom. Cigi and I had made plans the previous night with a guy we really like to meet for breakfast on Friday morning so as soon as I woke up (and realized that, no matter how hard I tried, I wasn't going to be able to get back to sleep) I phoned his room. He must have stepped out because I got his voicemail. I left a message and went about getting dressed. Cigi woke up soon afterwards. Then the guy called. We asked him to give us about twenty minutes to get dressed. He said he would meet us in the lobby. When we got downstairs, he wasn't there yet. However, there were some other CMer's there, one of whom had a camera with which she intended to take pictures. I had no make up on and really didn't want to be photographed fresh out of bed with the marks from my pillow case still on the side of my face. But she's sort of like the official photographer of the group and likes to catalogue the people who attended the party, so we gave in. I will probably have severe regrets when I see the pictures. The man we were meeting came down and, of course, she wanted a picture with him in it as well. He was good natured about it and posed for several with us. He admitted to me later that he'd already had a cup of coffee so he felt there was no real rush to get to the restaurant. For me, there was. I'd had nothing to eat since the previous evening's Lean Cuisine. Unless you count the cheese ball made by a certain brat. She brings several to every party and they have really become a tradition. We began to leave to go to breakfast, thinking that the man was leading us to his car. However, it soon dawned on us that he didn't have a car. He had flown in from New York and we had been driven by a friend. None of us had a car. It was a somewhat embarrassing moment. However, it was quickly salvaged when he suggested we go back inside and ask one of the desk clerks to call us a cab. One of the young men at the desk was happy to do this for us and called a local cab company who said they could have a car there in five minutes. I'm not sure we even waited that long. The cab arrived very quickly. Owing to the fact that I don't drive, I'm very much accustomed to traveling in cabs. And since our companion was from New York, he was also at home in a cab. Plus, we found out he had once worked for a car service. We knew what restaurant we wanted to go to and the driver quickly punched the address into his GPS system. I thought this was pretty cool. Our cab drivers in Peoria don't have these yet. They must rely on good old-fashioned "I know where that street is" technology to get their fares from Point A to Point B. The drive was a fairly short one, as the restaurant was pretty close to the hotel (although not close enough to walk). The restaurant boasts an amazing breakfast menu and I was practically salivating as I looked over what was available. I was really hungry and didn't anticipate eating lunch so I opted for a big breakfast. Cigi also had a large breakfast (for her, anyway). Our companion ordered an omelet that I wish I had ordered. The waitress was very attentive and made sure we had everything we needed right when we needed it. Having once been a waitress myself, I knew a good one when I saw it. We ate our food and made good conversation. We knew we had the whole weekend ahead of us and were all very relaxed and very much in "party mode". Our cab driver returned quickly and even stopped our companion by a local liquor store for some liquid refreshment. The driver, who was Russian, had a fairly good command of English. When we got back to the hotel, it was time for a rest to let our food digest. Almost as soon as we got up, the maid came to clean our room. There wasn't a lot for her to do besides make the beds and pick up the towels. Cigi and I aren't neat freaks, but we believe that, when you are guests, it's common courtesy not to leave the place a pig sty. I was in some rooms that weekend that were an absolute mess. Where is your pride? It takes a couple of minutes to hang up clothes and tidy up if you know people are going to be coming to your room.
As soon as the maid left, I got in the shower. Cigi sat working one of her crossword puzzles. They have long been a passion of mine, however, she just started doing them seriously. When I came out of the shower and had gotten dressed, I started putting my make up on. A knock on the door told me someone had come calling. In fact, it was a couple of "someones". Two of my favorite tops had come to see if we wanted to play. I was in the middle of getting my face put on, but I dropped it so I could play. One of the tops was the man who had strapped me in the public room the night before. He lost no time in getting me in position for another one. Cigi took a couple of pictures of the event and then the top who had just strapped me excused himself. The other top also wanted to play, so while Cigi was in the shower, he spanked me. He told me he was starting a new job on Monday. He had been out of work for over a year (something I could relate to) and I was really happy for him. He spanked me pretty lightly and then left. I told him I would see him downstairs later and that we could have a real session later. For some reason, it never happened. I was a little worried about Cigi. I wondered if she was playing as much as she wanted to. With her health problems, she has to be very careful, even when she tops, not to hurt herself.
About three weeks before the party a dom friend of ours joined Fetlife. He left a message on Cigi's wall and also posted to the Crimson Moon group that he was really looking to unload on someone at this party and who was going to be brave enough to take him up on his offer? Of course, your humble correspondent never misses a chance to take a dare. So I saw this particular dom and I was reminded of our date. I try to never make play promises since anything can (and usually does) happen. This dom had one of his submissives with him and he explained to me that she had never seen someone play really hard before...would it be OK if she watched? It was OK with me as long as the lady understood that this was going to be pretty intense stuff. She was totally agreeable and so off we went to my room. As we were waiting for the elevator, he turned to her and said "I know you're straight and all, but I want you to know this lady has just about the nicest ass I've ever spanked. Take my word for it, this ass is prime!". I was flattered by the compliment. Luckily, no one was using the room. He gave me a pretty good warm up (considering how hard we were going to be playing) and then began to strap me with different straps, some of them mine and some of them his. He has names for all of his toys. One particularly nasty toy, which he calls "Tasty" left some pretty good marks behind. He loves my Crimson FLAIM also and he worked me over with that extensively. I kept looking over at his sub, worried that she was disturbed by the hay makers her dom was hitting me with. But she had a big smile on her face. She said "You're right. Her ass is very nice. It's really tough, too!" When I first got in the scene, compliments like that from women made me very uncomfortable. It made me think they wanted to get in my pants or something. But now I'm very much OK with being complimented by other women. I find myself doing it, too. I hugged them both and thanked the dom for the wonderful strapping and caning he had given me. I still love canes a lot but I now I'm beginning to wonder if straps haven't replaced them as my new favorite? Time will tell I believe.
After the intense scene I had just had, I took myself out of circulation for about an hour or so. I watched others play and talked with friends while I waited for feeling to come back to my numb bottom. I had several offers to play, but had to politely decline. Even after all this time, I still hate having to turn down an offer to play. I almost can't stand the look of disappointment on their faces. I almost never turn down an offer to play except when I'm resting so it doesn't happen very often. One of the switches in the group (a long-time member that I have played with many times) asked one of the other ladies to play. She had been sitting in the public room playing her accordion when he asked her. Somehow, I got invited to come along. I love getting spanked with other people so I was very happy this happened the way it did. I knew the other lady only superficially. We had met for the first time last November at Purple Angel's party. I knew she was a spanko primarily, but dabbled in many other things; things I wasn't interested in hearing about. But she's very respectful of the fact that she was at a spanking party. We laid down on the bed side by side and the guy spanking us sort of knelt between us and spanked us. It was a very good time. He had a new toy he was anxious to try out. It was a Civil War-era cake froster. Or should I say a reproduction. He said it was used primarily in re-enactments. I'm assuming since, to my knowledge, no cake frosters were used as weapons in the Civil War, that the froster is used to re-enact what life was like back then. The toy was made of wood of course and packed a pretty concentrated sting. However, it wasn't intolerable and was, in fact, very pleasant. The scene, like most of the ones involving this guy, was pretty long. Usually, I don't do long scenes like this at parties because time is so limited, but I was having such a good time I lost track of how long we were there. We noticed it was about 8 o'clock. Dinner had been served at 7:30 and we rushed off to the party room hoping there was still some food left. As our luck would have it, there was some food left. Not a lot, but enough. Mild bratwurst and peppers that hit the spot. Good spanking party food.
Someone had been kind enough to bring a spanking bench to the party and to set it up so we could all take turns playing on it. Normally, I pass on spanking furniture. Too BDSM for me. But this one looked very comfortable. The upper part (where a person's chest would normally be supported) had a crescent shaped cut out and the kneeling pad was really padded. I had to try it. So I got one of my favorite tops to spank me on it. It's a good thing I did because it turned out to be the only spanking I would get from him all weekend. Cigi told me later that, while she was watching this top spank me, she had noticed some blood on my panties. I figured that the intense strapping I had received from my dom friend had broken some skin and neither of us had noticed it. He wasn't the type to just continue to pummel someone after he draws blood. In fact, I have played with him at times when he's stopped the scene because a spot had burst open.
A little while later, I watched as Cigi was caned over her skirt by our Fearless Leader. He was very careful and checked in with her often to make sure she was OK. He had been made aware of her health problems. Since she had been caned without a warm up, I was anxious to see the pretty marks I knew she was going to have. She hiked her skirt up and showed them to me. They were very pretty and very evenly spaced, not an easy thing to do when you're wearing a short skirt. A long skirt would've made it easier for him, but he did a fine job nonetheless. I was beginning to get the urge to play again and, wouldn't you know it, my favorite top was in the room. This is the guy who had already strapped me twice, once in the public room and once in my room. This time, we headed off to his room. He has a variety of very nice straps and paddles. I got just about all of them, too. He's my favorite because he laughs and smiles when he plays. I just can't do that stern, serious punishment type of scene. It's OK for people who like that sort of thing, but it's just not me. I wanted to be toasted and, believe me, he obliged. I knew it would be my last scene of the night, so I told him to just have at it. Boy, did he! I would have to say that on this particular day, I took the two most intense strappings of my life. I was feeling very floaty and I hate elevators (and refuse to ride in one alone) so he accompanied me back to my room. "Take care of that butt!" he smiled and grabbed and squeezed it. Man, did that ever hurt and he had to know it. But it wasn't done maliciously.
Cigi was watching "Baseball Tonight" on TV when I went in. The previous night, Chris Carpenter had pitched and won his start against the Houston Astros. I have already blogged about Chris so there's no need to expound on him. Suffice to say, I still love to get spanked by him. Friday was the annual trade deadline in Major League Baseball and we were both interested in what moves different teams had made. Once the program was over, it was time to hit the sack and rest up for Day Three.

Sunday, August 2, 2009

Crimson Moon Spanking Party Review--Part One

This afternoon, Cigi and I returned from the big three-day spanking party hosted by the good folks at Chicago Crimson Moon. This was the party that almost didn't happen for us. I enumerated the problems and pitfalls of planning this weekend in my previous post. After everything we went through, getting to attend this party was particularly sweet. Because of the fact that we didn't know until almost the last minute that we were going to be able to attend, all of the logistical planning was put off until just about zero hour. I had to close the night before and didn't even get to bed until after midnight. I was too excited to sleep once I got to bed but that's another story. We had packed hurriedly and of course, because of this, some essential things got left at home. Namely, hair spray and styling gel; two things that I cannot be without under any circumstances but especially in situations where I want to look my best. I also forgot nail polish remover, although I remembered everything else from my manicure kit. I drove Cigi crazy trying to find someone (anyone) that I could some from, but it never happened and my nails looked a fright all weekend. Cigi said somewhat ruefully "What makes you think anyone is gonna be looking at your fingernails?". She had a very good point, but as I've pointed out on this blog numerous times, I like to look my absolute best at these parties and having nails with the polish chipping off sort of bothered me. Of course, Cigi was right. No one noticed. Not one top said "You really should do something with your nails, Cheryl". But still...
Our ride showed up a bit early and since she's vanilla, we had to hurry up and shut the toy bags before she arrived. We took our usual number of bags--two suitcases (one large one containing our clothes and a small one with other essentials like toothpaste and deodorant and shaving cream, etc.) and two toy bags, plus a 12-pack of Mountain Dew and this time, an 8-pack of Lemon Lime Gatorade. The lady was very kind to help us carry all the stuff down to the car. She never asked why we had so many things nor did she ask what was in the other bags we were hauling. This was her car, after all, and if we got pulled over, the police could possibly search the trunk and open the toy bags. She was taking a pretty big risk (as a divorcee with three kids) and we were very grateful she was doing this for us. When we told her this, she waved her hand and said "It gets me out of the house for part of the day." Before I knew it, we were on the road. Usually, some sort of last minute catastrophe prevents this, but we hit the road on schedule and without drama this time. It was awesome. We stopped for some food but didn't stop to eat it. Now you have to know that I'm about the sloppiest eater on the face of the earth. I end up with food on my shirtfront when I'm sitting at a table so you can imagine how it went in a car doing 75 m.p.h. I ended up wearing a large part of my Whopper. But I didn't let that deter me from enjoying the gorgeous weather we were having or the fact that I was going to my first spanking party in nine months. Aside from seeing a dog that had been hit by a car laying on the roadside, the trip up was uneventful. I would love to be able to say that our arrival at the hotel was also, but it wasn't.
When we arrived, our ride decided to stay until we were checked in. She got to witness our embarrassment at discovering that we didn't have a reservation. Usually, one of our room mates books the room in her name and, because they always beat us to the hotel, there was never a problem. They would simply call the room and confirm that we were sharing the room. This time, there was no room in her name and they hadn't checked in yet. Cigi and I had a terrible moment of panic while the desk clerk (and then the manager) looked to see if the name had been misspelled or if the reservation had been lost. They even called another hotel to see if they had registered there. This was an absurd exercise as I knew we were in the right hotel. Since they had a room left, Cigi and I were forced to reserve our own room. However, the manager offered us the Crimson Moon block price (even though the deadline to reserve a room had come and gone). We had to use our debit card to book the room (even though we were paying cash) and I knew they would freeze our funds and we would be unable to use the card over the weekend. This was a bad situation for us. I was worried about being able to afford to pay for the room should our room mates not arrive for whatever reason. We got registered and said our goodbyes to the woman who had so kindly driven us up there without one complaint. We got a luggage cart and went upstairs to our room. I didn't tell Cigi how worried I was about the situation we were in because I didn't want to spoil her mood. She was pain-free despite the three hour car ride but was tired and needed a rest. We tossed our bags on the modular sofa and flopped on the beds, exhaustion taking over. We had probably only rested for ten minutes or so when the phone rang. It was someone from the desk calling to say that our room mates had arrived and they were sending them up. The mix up was easily explained. The room had been booked under the name of our other room mate's new boyfriend. We had simply not been told about it. But I was so happy they had arrived that I couldn't be angry. One of the ladies stayed in our room with us. The other one opted to stay with her boyfriend in the room they had originally booked for us. In a way (as with the bus plan not working out) I'm glad it turned out the way it did. I was apprehensive about sharing a room with a strange man for one thing. For another, five people in one room is a pretty tight fit even for a room as spacious as the ones this hotel boasted. I was so tired I felt like my knees were going to buckle on me. So Cigi and I laid back down and went to sleep for awhile. The bed was pretty firm but not even that was going to keep me from going to sleep. About an hour and a half later, I woke up feeling very much better. However, we were both now hungry. We always bring Lean Cuisine dinners from home to heat up in our rooms. One thing we immediately noticed upon arriving was that, after the hotel renovated and switched management, the microwave ovens were removed from the guest suites. And there wasn't one in the area where they served the complimentary breakfast. We had to go to the desk and ask one of the desk people to take it back to the break room and heat our dinners up for us. It was a pain in the ass really. We had to take the elevator down to the lobby and then carry the hot meals (which the man at the desk had returned to their respective boxes) back upstairs to our room. It was something we didn't do again all weekend. It was just too inconvenient. We caught up with our room mate while we ate quickly. Then we all put on our party clothes and make up and headed down to the public room. There were quite a few first timers attending and a newbie orientation was planned for seven o'clock. One of the party goers, a top, complained about having over twenty years of experience in the scene and voiced his indignation about being subjected to a "lesson" in how to behave at a party. Crimson Moon has a strict rule--no matter how many years you've been in the scene, no matter how many other parties you've been to, if you're attending your first CM party, you're a newbie to us. And different groups invariably have different rules. Besides, it never hurts to have your party etiquette brushed up on. All of us veterans had to leave the room though while the orientation went on. Most of us opted to wait in a seating area just outside the party room. There were people coming from the nearby pool so I knew that vanillas were close at hand. Our particular room was also close to the gym. Lovely. Back when I first began attending parties, many veteran CM members didn't bother to wear their name tags. After all, everyone knew who they were...well, those who had been going to parties for awhile knew. Now there's a rule that, to get into the public room, you had to have your name tag on. The name tags provided some jokes this time around as they were badly executed. All the tops were designated as bottoms and all the bottoms were designated as tops. To collect your name tags (they give you one for each night of the party) you had to have your e-ticket. This is a print out of the email you receive from management informing you that your party fee has been received. Well, true to form, our computer printer failed to print them up that morning. Because of the rush we were in to get on the road, we hadn't had time to do any troubleshooting on the printer and had had to leave without our e-tickets. But the board members were gracious and said "If we don't know who you two are by now, we're in real trouble." So this was another occasion when some one's graciousness helped us out of a potentially bad situation. Once I had my corrected name tag, I went and found a place to sit down. It felt good (after several parties without one) to finally have a big room we could all meet and socialize in. After several minutes of making small talk with some old friends and introducing myself to some new members, one of my favorite tops came in. He was quickly followed by his girl, a switch. I watched as she paddled and strapped another lady switch, who I had just met for the first time. The lady being paddled added some nice comic touches to the scene. It was enjoyable but I wanted to play. The top (the one who was one of my favorites) came over and gave me a hug and a playful (though still stinging) swat on the butt. He held a strap in his hand---one that I was well acquainted with.
"You want some of this?" he asked holding it out.
What a silly question! Of course I did. He directed me to a nearby chair and had me lean on it. I told him I hadn't played yet and needed a warm up. I was wearing cute plaid shorts and he spanked me over those with his hand. This particular top has a great hand, just the kind I like. After an abbreviated warm up, he got started with the strap. Because this was the first night of the party and because he was the first person I was playing with, he lightened up considerably. It wasn't light by any means but he knows I'm a hard player and he gave me a very nice strapping. Strapping happens to be this guy's forte. He strapped me wonderfully. Not too hard but not soft either. I could feel the heat through the cotton fabric of my shorts. Nice. I rested for a short spell and then across the room, chatting with some other members, I spied my blogging buddy, Dr. Ken. Now when Ken and I usually play, I'm almost always torn up pretty bad and he has to shorten the session with me. So this time, I made sure that didn't happen. I went over and asked him if he wanted to play. Yes, absolutely he wanted to play. So off we went to his room. It was one of the nicest spankings I got all weekend. Because my bottom was in such good shape, he was able to give me a longer, harder spanking. Did he ever! It was awesome. Of course, along with the spanking came some nice conversation, too. Dr. Ken is a wonderful, charming man and I look forward to the time I spend over his knee. However, it had to end sometime and off we went back downstairs to the party suite. The room was fairly full this time. And there was some public play going on. I watched this for awhile since I now needed a rest. Soon after this, a guy I had been chatting with pretty regularly came into the room. I had not met him before and so I was excited to play with him. It was his first party and much of our chats had been taken up with me assuring him that he would have a good time and that he would get people to play with him. He was a switch after all. However, he seems to be more of a top. I talked to him for awhile and then we went up to my room to play. He was pretty nervous I could tell. Now he had told me his spanking experiences had been pretty limited (furtive one-swatters in bars, etc.) but you would never know it. He was a pretty impressive spanker to put it mildly. He spanked me by hand and then we broke out some of my straps. He told me had paddling down pretty good but needed practice with straps. I was more than happy to help him out. He strapped me very nicely and kept a nice conversation going at the same time. He was funny and pretty smart to boot, a huge plus for a top in my opinion. It seemed like we played a really long time. He found one strap he favored among my collection and just sort of tried his best to wear it out on me. It was very enjoyable. His company was also very enjoyable. He had a very nice, somewhat heavy, spanking hand. But the strapping couldn't go on indefinitely so he ended it. I was a little disappointed as I wanted to continue. He told me we could have another session another time, but for now, he was a little tired. I noticed the alarm clock next to the bed and I had to admit it was getting late. So we went back down to the party room where I met a few more new people who had arrived late. The conversation went on for awhile and before I knew it, it was ten o'clock. I hadn't slept well the night before and it was beginning to catch up with me. I went to the guy who had just strapped me and asked him if he'd give me a nice, relaxing spanking to send me off to bed. He was more than happy to. We went to his room this time, where he first showed me his paddle collection. Most were old frat paddles. But they were very nice to look at and, because they all came from Northwestern University, very attractive as collectibles. He hand spanked me until I was completely blissed out and then escorted me to my room. Cigi was already there taking her make up off. I asked her if she was calling it a night. "What's my usual bedtime?" Usually, at home, Cigi is tucked away in bed by ten or so. I had to admit I was tired and feeling very floaty from my spanking so I, too, called it a night. I could hardly wait for Day Two.
Tomorrow, I'll post part two of my review.

Sunday, July 26, 2009


The Crimson Moon spanking party is just four days away! Cigi and I had to skip March's party due to a health issue with her and the January party was cancelled (due to the death of our former president). So we haven't been up to see our spanking friends in nine months. That, my friends, is a long time.

So now I'm giddy waiting for Thursday to get here. There will be a nice mix of old friends and new members. Many of the new members are young people, which I love to see. I love for them to understand that our club isn't just a bunch of older people. Our membership runs the gamut from twenty-somethings to several members in their sixties and seventies. That people from this diverse of an age group are getting together to have fun really does blow my mind. Some of these people I have been playing with since I began in the spanking scene more than six years ago. A few will be completely new to me, but hopefully we'll be friends before the weekend is over.
I haven't given a moment's thought to what I'm going to wear. I will probably just toss a bunch of things into my suitcase and head off. I used to spend weeks before a party agonizing over the perfect outfit. Then it dawned on me. Most of these people are my friends. It makes no difference to them what I show up in. As long as I'm there and I'm getting spanked, they're happy. So now I don't expend so much time on little details like what to wear. Mind you, once I do pick something, I'll make sure it's in perfect condition (no stains, perish the thought, or wrinkles) before I pack it. And panties? Well, I didn't get any new ones this time so the tops will just have to be satisfied with the ones I have. And you know what? They probably will be. None that I have played with in, let's say, the last three or four years, has cared one bit about what kind of panties I'm wearing. I know some guys have a panty fetish and, in fact, most do love unwrapping the package, but as far as lingering over my underwear? Nope. The ladies at the party are more apt to notice and comment on my choice of foundations. It's happened more than once.
Cigi and I had planned on taking the bus up to the party, but that just isn't going to be an option for us now or in the future. For one thing, the bus is prohibitively expensive. Two round-trip tickets would have set us back about $150.00 plus tax. Add to that the fact that it's a long cab ride out to the airport to catch the bus and the fact that the bus doesn't even go to the city where the party is going to be (it goes straight to downtown Chicago) which means another long cab ride and, well, you get the picture. We wouldn't have been able to afford our share of the hotel room. So we asked our nephew to drive us. He was apologetic, but he said he couldn't. He had lost his driver's license because he had let his insurance lapse. I had no idea they even did that. Of course, my nephew probably has the worst driving record in the state of Illinois. So he asked his girlfriend to do it and, since she used to live in Chicago, she agreed. I have to admit I was really disappointed when I realized the bus wasn't going to work out. I hadn't really wanted to spend four hours on a bus anyway. And it wasn't going to leave the airport until 2:30 in the afternoon. It would be after seven o'clock when we got there. The party would be in full swing with no time to rest or freshen up. No, not an option. But what other choice did we have? Once I realized that the bus wasn't going to be an option for us, I thought we would have to miss the party yet again. But, thanks to Cigi's quick thinking, we're in. Unless, of course, something goes wrong between now and Thursday. I'm keeping my fingers and toes crossed.

Just getting the days off I needed was a hurdle in itself. Where I work, you have to give them 30 days' notice if you need a day off. There's a special form to fill out and then you have to put it in your Zone Manager's box. My Zone Manager has never failed to give me the time off I needed for a party. Of course, if he knew the reason I was going it might be a different story. Imagine my surprise when I go to my mailbox and retrieve my forms. I glanced down at the form and saw the NO box checked. Now what was I going to do? I didn't want to act like a spoiled brat over the matter (especially considering this particular Zone Manager had always given me the time off I needed) but getting the days off was imperative. I hated to do it, but I went over his head to the Store Manager, a man who was always sympathetic to the needs of his employees. I offered to take the days as voluntary non-paid days off. I really can't afford it, but it's better than not going. He gave me the days off I needed and a couple of extras (which I will need so I can recuperate from all the spankings I plan to get over the weekend). I sure hope he noticed that I have unused vacation time.

Because of all the hassles, I haven't allowed myself to get too excited about the party. But now, with the last hurdle cleared, I have sort of eased up and let that kid-before-Christmas feeling that I normally get before a party creep in a bit. However, my excitement is checked somewhat knowing that one person will forever be absent--my friend, Lyn, who died of throat cancer last month. Little did I know that when Cigi and I saw her last October at the CM Halloween party, it would be the last time we would see her. I really hope that CM has something special planned for her. She and her husband were long-time members.

So expect a party report when I return next Sunday. I can hardly wait!