Sunday, March 30, 2008

Back In One Piece

I just got home this afternoon from the big Crimson Moon party in Chicago. We had great weather for the drive up. It was sunny, if a bit cold. And we had a nice, comfortable car for the trip, too. This would be even more important for the trip home.
When we arrived, it was still early so Cigi and I got checked into our room and took a nap. I was still sleeping when our other room mate arrived. It was getting close to time for the party room to open so we got cleaned up and put on our party clothes. I was really excited because there was a nice mix of "regulars" and newbies to choose from. When we got downstairs, we greeted everyone and got caught up (it had been five months since our last party, after all). Usually, I like to play right away, but this time, I held off on playing and just tried to soak in the atmosphere. It was smaller, more intimate party this time around. Sometimes, when there are 100 or more people at a party, the party room can get a bit cramped and very loud. So it was a very nice atmosphere.
I played only four times that first night, an unusually low number for me, but they were all nice sessions. I played with a new top that night, too and got to feel his wonderful collection of leather straps and paddles. His room was right across the hall from ours and I heard the wonderful sounds of his technique eminating through his door until the wee hours of the morning. I certainly hope he continues to come to parties. He was a great spanker, could hold his own in conversation and was a complete gentleman. These are all pluses at a spanking party, by the way.
This party marked my fifth anniversary of being active in the party scene. Two other ladies were also marking their fifth anniversary so we spent some time reliving that first party we attended together.
One of the pifalls of attending a hotel party is that everyone is required to wear a nametag. Nametags have caused some of the most comical moments to be had at parties. We are usually sharing the hotel with vanillas, after all, and I think they are naturally curious about anything that has to do with kink. Anyone who has attended more than one party probably has a story or two (or three or four) to tell relating to their nametag.
I also played with another top I met at that very first party. Despite having a cast on his spanking arm from recent surgery, he lost no time in showing me he was just as effective with his left hand as he always was with his right. I usually have fun with this particular top and this time was no exception.
Another top I played with was curious about seeing my toy collection and lost no time in trying them out on me. He was particularly impressed with the Crimson FLAIM (not a misspelling, the letters stand for something but I've forgotten what) made for Crimson Moon by our buddy, Ian at the London Tanners. He was able to get some reaction out of me with this and that's really not an easy thing to do. At least, not on the first night of a party.
It was starting to get late, so I headed back to our room to heat up one of the yummy Lean Cuisine meals we'd brought with us. Since we have to drive up with someone and don't have our own car available at parties, it makes sense to bring food from home. It's a lot cheaper than eating out, too. Cigi and I have been doing this almost since our first party. It gave me some time to relax and try to process the evening so far. Parties are fun, don't get me wrong. But having a little bit of "alone time" is really important. I can't have a constant assault on my senses. I have to get away from it for at least a short spell.
After my dinner, I headed back to the party room to see who was there. I found it pretty full and decided to ask a switch I knew if she wanted to play. Usually, by the time this particular lady and I get around to playing, I'm usually pretty torn up. I didn't want that to happen this time, so I caught her when I was still in pretty good shape. When we got to her room, we decided to have a nice talk first. She had been late arriving and I hadn't had a chance to talk to her at all so we talked for awhile first. She has the most awsome collection of toys. Her toy bag pretty much runs the gammut from cute to scary. And she has everything in between, too. She admitted to me years ago that I was the first woman she had ever topped. Getting spanked by her is sort of like getting spanked by a favorite aunt. When we were done, we both headed back to the party room. There was almost nothing shaking so Cigi and I decided to call it a night. We headed back to our room to hit the sack. After a restful nights' sleep, we woke somewhat late for Day Two. The hotel where the party is held offers a free breakfast to guests and we wanted to do that. However, when we arrived in the lobby, it was crammed with people, there was nowhere to sit and, worst of all, the food was almost gone. We knew they would soon start cleaning up and putting things away. We ran into our friend and fellow blogger, Purple Angel, and her partner and the four of us soon decided to head to a restaurant for breakfast. This particular restaurant had come highly reccomended so off we went. The service wasn't the best, but the food was great. After a satisfying breakfast, we headed back to the hotel. One of our room mates asked if we'd like to go with her to a fabric store to shop so Cigi and I decided "What the heck?" and off we went. Our friend picked out some nice patterns and we were soon heading back to the hotel again. By this time, I wanted to get cleaned up and get ready for that night's festivities. I take a lot of time with my hygeine and making sure my clothes aren't wrinkled. I also make sure I smell good, something I'm sure all of my fellow party-goers appreciate. When I was sure there was nothing more I could do, we headed downstairs to see if they had opened the party room. It wasn't "officially" open yet, but the door was unlocked. One of the tops who was there wasted no time in spanking first Cigi and then me. Surprisingly, my skin was very sensitive. All that leather the night before must have been the culprit. But my tolerance was amazing; better than it had been in a long time. I was feeling so invigorated by my high tolerance that, instead of waiting to play again, I went right into another session, this one with a new top I hadn't played with before. He favored handspanking so we didn't use any toys. But he was a great spanker. And he spanked me for what seemed like a very long time. I enjoyed playing with this new top a lot.
By this time, it was time to get the party room set up for supper so we were all urged to make ourselves scarce for a while. I prowled the halls to see if anyone wanted to play, but had no luck. By the time I got back downstairs, the room had been reopened. Many people went out to eat because all there was in the party room was cold cuts and chips. But I made myself a sandwhich anyway because the roast beef looked too good to pass up. Plus, even after all these years, I still have to remind myself to eat and drink at these parties. It's very easy to get caught up in the atmosphere and forget to do that. So I ate and laughed and shared rememberances of parties past.
This party was different from others in that we had decided not to hold spanking court at this party, but play some fun spanking games instead. Now court is always a blast. Judge Buttburner is a fair and impartial judge--all brats are guilty even if proven innocent. But this time we decided to try something different. The first game we played was for bottoms and switches only. We played a rousing game of muscial chairs, which Cigi easily one. The rules were pretty simple. The Master of Ceremonies put some wood paddles and hairbrush out on one of the tables and told everyone how many they would have to take if they chose that particular instrument (something you had to do when you were eliminated). We were also told we could choose our executioner. How nice of him :-)
The game progressed and as we were eliminated, the game would stop while we received our penalty. When my turn came (thanks to one of my room mates knocking me to the floor!) I chose the hairbrush because it was only five swats. I chose as my executioner my blogging buddy, Dr. Ken. I knew he would take it easy on me and not turn this into a contest. I bent over the table, took my five swats from Ken (which stung even though I know he lightened his hand) and amid a round of applause, took my seat with as much dignity as I could muster under the circumstances. The nice thing about this was that you didn't have to go bare bottomed unless you wanted to. I chose not to because I still wanted to play some more that night.
A bit later, a dice game was introduced. There were two dice--one with numbers on it and another with implements listed on it. You rolled the number die first to see how many licks you would have to take and then you rolled the second die to see what you would have to take your licks with. Our Master of Ceremonies exhorted different people to come up and try their luck. When I went up, I rolled the number 15. Not too bad. Then I rolled the other die to see what implement I would get used on me. I rolled the cane, usually my favorite. But there were no canes in the room so while someone went to get some, another "victim" came up and took his turn. Pretty soon, the canes were brought in and I was faced with the daunting task of trying to find someone in the room who I was sure was good with the cane. I chose our Master of Ceremonies. I had only felt his hand and his razor strap. Both are nasty the way he uses them. I knew the cane would probably be no different and I wasn't wrong. Again, I decided not to go bare bottomed, although a few in the room were egging me on to drop my jeans. I ignored them and kept them up. I didn't want the night to be ended for me. There were three canes for me to choose from and I chose the medium one simply because I don't like thin, whippy canes at all. I much prefer stiffer ones with more bite to them. The Master of Ceremonies twirled the cane somewhat menacingly, much like a gunslinger twirling his six-shooter. He told me knew I had been caned a lot, but he reminded me of some basic safety rules (such as don't move around and don't turn your head, etc.). Then he told me to bend over the table and stick my bottom out. He laid the strokes on with gusto from first to last and gave me the last five in rapid succession. When I stood up, someone told me my jeans had cane marks on them. I was grateful I had made the decision to keep my jeans up. Others weren't so prudent and paid the price. One of them was Cigi, who got caned over her girl boxers. They didn't shield her from much and she ended up bruised and marked. But she was very happy and floaty. For some of us, play is different on the second night of a party as opposed to the first. The first night, you try to conserve as much bottom as possible in order to play with all the people you want to play with. The second night, the gloves are off, so to speak. There's no reason to save your bottom because you'll be heading home to heal the next day. The Master of Ceremonies told Cigi that she would be thinking about him every time we hit a bump going home. Everyone laughed good-naturedly. This was way better than court.
Later, after we both had some time to recover, we went off to play with Dr. Ken. He knew we had both just taken very hard canings and so he took it easy on us. However, he gave me some stingers to let me know he didn't feel too sorry for me LOL. I love playing with him and we usually don't connect at parties. But Cigi and I both made it a point to get together with him. Both of us getting spanked at the same time at a party doesn't happen that often, but we wanted Ken to experience the "twin thing". We had a great time with him, as always.
After that, we all headed back to the party room to see what was shaking. Very little was so we decided, since we had to get an early start the next morning, to call it a night. We went back up to our room with every intention of going to bed. But our other room mate was getting spanked and had neglected to put the Do Not Disturb sign on the door. I was very intrigued by the guy who was spanking her. I had seen him at a couple of other parties and didn't ask him to play because quite frankly, I thought I wasn't his type. But when he finished spanking our room mate, I asked him if he would spank me. He beamed and said he'd be happy to. I lost no time in getting my jeans down and getting over his lap. He had hard, working man hands and I loved that. Some of the guys in the group have desk jobs and their hands are soft. This guy had rough, calloused hands and they felt wonderful. He could really spank, let me tell you. We didn't let him leave until he had spanked all three of us, which he was happy to do. It was a case of my misconceptions causing me to miss out on a great experience. I assumed I wasn't his type but I was exactly his type--a woman who loved to get spanked. I will have to play with him again. Ah, the life of a spanko.
And that was the party for me. I'm sitting here on a somewhat sore bottom, smiling as I remember all the fun I had this weekend.

Friday, March 14, 2008

The Name Game

I've met people with unbelievably imaginitive scene names---names that are so succinct and so appropriate that you have to admire their enginuity. My sister, Cigi, for example uses her initials spelled out. Very cute and clever. I think it really captures her playful personality perfectly. When I started thinking about getting in the scene, I also tried to think of a scene name that fit. I thought of Cricket and quickly rejected it. I thought of Shannon and also rejected that. Scarlet was also quickly ditched. For whatever reason, I just couldn't come up with a name that I liked. Then it dawned on me. I really didn't NEED a scene name. Cheryl is a perfectly nice name. So I went with the one my parents gave me.
Now, I fully understand why some people would choose a scene name. Protecting ones anonimity is paramount in certain cases. And, let's face it, sometimes it's a lot more memorable than ones real name. Think of all the famous sports nicknames out there. Doesn't The Splendid Splinter or Teddy Ballgame sound better than just plain ol' Ted Williams? Doesn't Mr. October roll off the tongue better than Reggie Jackson? In the same vein, if one is in the spanking scene and wants to create a certain persona, having a name like Erma is a bit of a handicap (no offense to any ladies named Erma who might be reading this). Having a scene name is also a great way to add mystery to ones persona. A woman with a memorable scene name and a personality to match can just about write her own ticket. For me, after a short time experimenting with the aforementioned names, it seemed absurd to call myself by some other name. My friends in the scene with scene names all became comfortable eventually with me knowing their real names. And guess what? I found that most of their real names fit them even better than their scene names. But it's that desire to keep oneself anonymous or to add an air of mystery that makes people choose a different name. For me, it never really mattered. I feel my name is fairly memorable (although Cheryl was a pretty popular name in its day, I have yet to meet another woman in the scene with this name).
What it really boils down to, whether you have a scene name or not, is enjoying this thing we do.
Have a good night, everyone!

Thursday, March 6, 2008

March Madness

Now before anyone out there gets confused thinking that my little spanking blog has gone off-topic and I'm now posting about basketball, never fear. I titled this entry "March Madness" because one of the groups I belong to is holding a party in Chicago at the end of the month and the Yahoo group we all post to is getting appropriately busy. The anticipation and excitement is building and the posts from the members reflects this. The bratting is picking up a lot, with bottoms talking about the pranks they intend to play and the tops promising retribution (all in fun, of course). This time is my favorite time--the weeks preceeding a party. There are plans to make concerning every aspect of the weekend (travel plans, what to wear, who else will be going, etc.) and these fill the time before the party. Many of us ladies buy new clothes or get our hair done before going. And, of course, for many of us bottoms a trip to the mall for a day spent shopping for new panties is a must. There are online chats and phonecalls between people who have been seeing each other for years and also to calm the fears of nervous newbies.
There are certain things I never go to a spanking party without. One thing I never forget to pack is arnica cream. I discovered this little miracle in a tube before my first party in March, 2003. This wonderful muscle soother has kept me in the action at parties more times than I can count. Believe me when I say that no one will play with you if your bottom is covered in bruises and sore spots. Unfortunately, we all only have one bottom and it has to last the entire weekend. Arnica helps that happen.
I also never go to a party without my trusty digital camera. Of course, there are rules involving the taking of photographs or videos at a party, but most attendees are willing to provide face shots if you ask nicely and promise to email them a copy of the picture. Pictures (whether face or action shots) should NEVER be taken without the subjects' consent. In fact, it's best to get the consent of everyone who might get in the shot. It gives anyone who doesn't want to be photographed a chance to move out of shot. Sharing pictures is one sure way to keep the fun of a spanking party in your memory.
Of course, I have to pack my toys. When I first started going to parties, I was under the impression that the tops had to provide the toys. But pretty soon it started to feel like I had to just take whatever the tops brought. So now I bring my own.
I also bring a first aid kit with me. It's just a Ziploc bag with things in it that I may need during the course of the weekend--Bandaids, antibiotic ointment (for those times when a cane stroke goes astray or some other mishap occurs), Advil for headaches, lotion and the aforementioned arnica. I couldn't get through the weekend without these things.
While the parties are fun and exciting, I find they're more so if I put a little planning into it ahead of time. Part of this planning involves networking with people who also plan to attend. Knowing who will be there helps a lot insofar as planning my dance card goes. I try to never make play promises because anything can happen during the course of the weekend and many times someone ends up disappointed that you didn't connect. But there are certain people I always try to play with just because I like them and they're fun. Planning my wardrobe is also important. Because the weather in March is often unpredictable, I really will have to pack extra things. I will have to pack warmer clothes if the weather proves colder than expected.
One thing is for sure. March Madness is definitely in the air. All the emails in my mailbox prove it.