Tom was in total spanko heaven. He was in a room, the only top in the room and he was surrounded by spankable women. The magnitude of this moment wasn't lost on me, believe me. To my way of thinking, that's what these weekend parties are for-- to live out our fantasies in a place that's both safe and accepting. I'm quite sure that Tom has done this before. I have done it before, for sure. But a scene like this never loses its wonder and charm, no matter how many times you've done it before. Tom was extremely accommodating. Knowing that my ribs were an issue (and they were that entire weekend, much to my chagrin), he put me over his knee on the bed in the most comfortable position we could find. He was patient when I asked him to stop so I could change position. He instinctively knew that I liked to be spanked over panties (or perhaps he had read my very long fetish list) and he indulged me in that.
It was an awesome experience being spanked by someone who so obviously enjoyed what he did. He and Nancy are well-travelled and know the party circuit well. I, on the other hand, had never ventured out of Illinois to attend a party before now. I must have looked like a total rube to them, but they had the class and good grace not to mention it. I felt like someone attending a fancy dinner party for the first time and not knowing which fork to use. Part of the problem was that I had a preconceived notion about what I thought Atlantic City was. I envisioned it as being replete with high rollers and mobster types all trying to find an angle. But none of that was true; at least, I didn't see it. All of my illusions about the city were fractured that weekend. It was nothing like I pictured it. My mother was fond of that old Anita Bryant song "On the boardwalk in Atlantic City, we will walk in a dream..." I used to remember hearing her sing it while she ironed or did the dishes. And I guess that's what I did all weekend-- I walked in a dream. But the reality was that it was just a place like a lot of other places. I remember telling Sherri when we came into town that, aside from the casinos, it looked a lot like downtown Peoria. To an inexperienced traveller like me, who just doesn't know what to look for, Atlantic City wasn't the dreamland I always thought it would be from hearing my mother sing about it.
Tom spanked me very nicely, first with his hand and then with an assortment of interesting toys. I was surprised more than once by what a hard spanker he could be considering Nancy doesn't play that hard. He was obviously enjoying spanking me as much as I was enjoying being spanked by him.
He has a tremendous spanking hand. It's nice and heavy and he knows what part of the bottom to aim for. Tom and Nancy decided to watch from the best seat in the house. After the warm up, it was time to break out the cane and he didn't disappoint me. Being a veteran party goer, Richard understands that most of us bottoms play pretty lightly that first night in order to conserve bottom for the rest of the weekend. Few things annoy me more than watching a top systematically destroy as many bottoms as he can before other tops can get to them. What purpose this serves, other than to make bottoms hesitant to play with him again, I have no clue. It's a sign that the top is both arrogant and inconsiderate. As I'd waited many years to be in this position, I wanted to remember every aspect of it. I was almost bursting with anticipation by the time the caning got underway.
It was exquisite. Richard is a top notch caner. The cane he used was a bit thicker than the medium width canes I prefer but it in no way compromised the scene. I can't remember how many strokes he gave me that night, but I think it was a dozen. When it was over, he thanked me and told me I had taken it very well. Then he hugged me and told me we would play again, harder next time. That gave me (and my bottom) something to look forward to.
Tomorrow, another first :)