Fire And Ice

Author's Note: The story you're about to read is true. The names have not been changed because no one involved was innocent.
Thanks to Daria for inspiring the title :-)

When I first started in the spanking scene, I was employed at a local restaurant as a manager. I had many responsibilities that kept me extremely busy. So I indulged in my "new-found" proclivity whenever the opportunity presented itself. One night at work, it did. A new guy named Rob came to work at the restaurant that summer. I had already been to a few parties and had several regular partners. But, you know, I just couldn't get spanked often enough. Anyway, Rob was not well-liked at work. He was somewhat of a braggart and I got the impression he was always trying to impress people. One day, without preamble, he came up to me while I was working on the schedule for the coming week and informed me that his parents had horses.
"Do you ride?" he asked.
I told him that I used to, but I hadn't been on a horse in many years. He looked at me somewhat dubiously before he said the next sentence. Now, Cigi believes that spankos can "spot each other" and I guess this was one instance when she was right.
"Well, if you don't wanna go riding, I can think of another way to give you a sore bottom," he told me.
I dropped the clipboard I was holding. I could've sworn he'd just offered to spank me. I picked it up and said "Are you offering?"
"Sure, why not?" he asked.
"Right here at work?" I said.
I was trying to think of a place private enough, where we had less chance of getting caught. I went to the office and ran off a copy of the daily inventory counts and told Rob he could go outside and have a cigarette if he wanted one. Keep in mind, I was his direct supervisor. If we had gotten caught, we both would've been fired with no questions asked.
I always began the inventory counts by counting the cases in the outside freezer. Rob was standing by the backdoor smoking a cigarette. I beckoned him in and he threw his smoke away. It was freezing in there, but I was used to it. The door had a safety lock that prevented us from being locked in should the door close all the way and there was a light so we were perfectly safe. I wasn't dressed for playing. I had worked the dinner rush so I had grease on my uniform shirt. Quite frankly, I must have looked awful. I wasn't wearing a thong, either, something I always did when I played back then.
When Rob came into the freezer, there was a very awkward pause. He rubbed his hands together.
"Do you still wanna do this?"
I had had some time to think about this. I thought about what I would do if I lost my job. But I really wanted him to spank me, so I just nodded.
"How do you wanna do it?" he asked. "OTK or what?"
That's how I knew for sure he was a real spanko. No one else would know what OTK meant. The scene does have its own jargon, after all.
Of course, I wanted it OTK. There happened to be three cases of roast beef nearby that made a place for him to sit that was the perfect height for what we were about to do.
"Over your clothes or bare bottom?" he asked.
"Bare if it's OK," I said. "As long as you're cool with it."
Believe me, he was cool with it. I took a deep breath (as deep as I could take in the freezing, sub-zero atmosphere of the freezer) and undid my pants and slid them down. I didn't know how much time we were going to have and we just didn't have the time to work down to the bare. He sat down on these boxes and I got over his knee. It was a delicious moment for me. I had never done anything so brazenly against the rules before. But the urge to get spanked is very strong in us bottoms (as anyone who is one will gladly attest).
He started out slowly (another indication that he knew what he was doing). Now he was shorter than me, younger than me and not much to look at. Did I let that stop me? No. We sort of had to listen in case someone came by and saw the lock off the door and threw it open, wondering why the freezer (and all of its expensive inventory left at risk of theft) was left wide open. After awhile, I could feel the familiar heat on my bottom. Rob laughed and said "Look at that! There's steam coming off your butt!"
It was strange to put it mildly. There was, indeed some kind of diaphanous vapor coming off my butt. And, man, was it red. But it was time to get back inside before I was missed. Before we went back inside, I cautioned him not to talk about this to anyone. Not that I was a hypocrite or anything. This was purely a practical matter. I wanted to keep my job. What we had just done was fraternization in every sense of the word. A major no-no. Then, for the remainder of his shift, I had to act like nothing happened and he had to do the same. He had to take orders from me becuase I was his boss. Maybe this was a fantasy of his--spanking the boss? Who knows? However, we did get together a few times after that. A few months later, he moved back to his hometown and I lost all track of him. But I remember him fondly for being brave enough to indulge me in the most daring thing I had ever done. Going to parties had required a certain bravery on my part but this was the "vanilla world", where this wasn't supposed to happen.
So that's the whole story, unembelished and just as it happened. Now that I think about it, it was all sort of perfunctory. Of course, as I said before, we didn't have time to savor the experience. But it was still thrilling in its own way.

The Compleat Spankee

I just finished reading "The Compleat Spanker" for the 20th time (or thereabouts). I have to say that my opinions and perspectives have certainly changed since the first time I read it. Actually, I haven't read it in quite some time. I found it while I was doing some spring apartment cleaning yesterday. I wondered where the book had gone.
In case there is anyone out there who hasn't read this book, it's a small, yet fairly concise, volume that covers the basics of topping--toys, positions, aftercare, etc. When the book was first published, apparently there were no books specifically about spanking and spanking safety. The book is only about 80 pages, but Lady Green crams it with helpful information.
After I reread the book, I had to ask myself if I was a compleat spankee. Do I do the things I'm supposed to do to keep me and my partner safe? Do I make sure both of us enjoy the scene? Do I lay the scene out before it happens to ensure that there are no surprises? Do I discuss my safeword with all of my partners? I have to be honest and say that sometimes I'm not a very good bottom. Sometimes I'm not really interested if my Top enjoys the scene as much as I did. Of course, I know that there are Tops out there who have spanked me and loved it. I know also that there are Tops out there who played with me once and never asked me again. Perhaps they wanted more from the scene than I did? Perhaps the way I play isn't their cup of tea? In that case, what is my responsibility to the Top who didn't get what he wanted from a scene with me? Maybe it wouldn't have turned out that way if I had told him before the scene ever started what I wanted and what I didn't. So I have to take my share of blame in a situation like that.
In the same way a Top has responsibilities in a scene, so does the bottom. Maybe I've been a bit lax in my scene responsibilities? Or maybe the fact that I've been in the scene for awhile has made me a bit blase when it comes to the basics? Reading that book has got me thinking about what kind of spankee I am and what kind I want to be. I want to be the kind of bottom that Tops love to play with. I want to be the kind that others look to as an example of the way one is supposed to behave with other scene people. Like it or not, I'm part of a larger community than just the two or three spanking groups I belong to. Last year, I was at a Crimson Moon party and started talking to a couple from another part of the country (can't remember now if it was east or west of Chicago) who assured me they had both heard of me from Crimson Moon members who lived by them. So not only does ones name get around in the scene (thanks to the Internet) but so, presumably, does ones reputation.I've heard stories about people who have done something wrong and are asked not to come back to parties and I don't ever want this to happen to me. I want the door to be open to me wherever I go.
So, to me, the "compleat spankee" is someone who takes safety issues seriously, keeps the games to a minimum, welcomes newbies and makes them feel comfortable in the scene and also one who sets a good example for them. The last thing I want is for the doors to start slamming in my face because I did something to compromise the integrity of the scene or the group I'm in.

Preserve Your Memories

Today I finished a project I've been promising myself I would do for about two years now. I took all of my old photos (from parties and play dates) along with nametags and keycards from hotels and I put them in a photo album. Back in the days before I had a digital camera, I would take pictures and then trudge to Walgreen's to get them developed. I usually got a picture CD and a set of prints. But knowing that the person who developed the pictures had seen them sort of made uncomfortable. It wasn't until I had a job where one of my duties was one hour photo developing that I realized that they saw everything.
I had no idea what a trip down memory lane this was going to be for me. A lot has changed since the days when I first got into the scene. Because I'm a hoarder (a trait which has driven several people in my life completely crazy) there was a lot there. Most people would consider a nametag or a keycard to be so much garbage and just pitch them. But I kept everything. When Cigi and I moved from our house to an apartment, I had the forethought to round everything up and put them in a big bag so I would have everything in one place. I patted myself on the back for thinking ahead. However, my happiness was shortlived as I realized that somehow, a small amount of moisture had gotten into the bag. The nametags are adhesive on one side and so I spent a stressful hour or so trying to get them unstuck without tearing them. A couple of them have small tears, but I can live with that.
When I completed the task and looked through the album, I became very nostalgic. I looked at the faces of people I probably will never see again (for one reason or another) and I just got very sentimental. It was very unexpected.
Do any of you out there have a place (besides your computer, I mean) where you keep things like photos and momentos of your life in the scene? Having a digital camera helps a lot but since I don't have a scanner and I'm not about to take my memory chip up to Walgreens and have digital prints made (sort of defeats the purpose) unless a friend takes them and wants to give me one, I think my days of having actual paper prints to look at are over. Maybe this is what I'm so sentimental about? Maybe it's the fact that I've allowed technology to rob me of one of my most treasured and enjoyable past times---looking at old photographs. As much as I love the advantages of having a digital camera, I really love old paper prints. They are something tangible that you can hold in your hand, sometimes close to your heart if you're so inclined.
Even if you're not a hoarder like me, memories are hard to hold onto. Especially the kind you can hold in your hand.

Post-Party Blues

It seems that ever since I returned from the Crimson Moon party last week, I've felt down in the dumps. I usually suffer from post-party letdown to one degree or another, but for some reason, it's hit me particularly hard this time (no pun intended). I don't know if it's because this was a really fun party or because everyone seemed to come back from Chicago sick. There's no one posting to the CM list, no one to chat with, and, worst of all, no one to play with. All of this has sort of melded together to put me in this very bad frame of mind. I feel the only way to snap out of it is to play. Alas, there's not really anyone knocking my door down. Add to that the wet and dreary weather and I'm in desparate need of some playtime. I've healed up from the party (bruises are almost completely gone) so I really don't even have the marks to remind me of the fun I had.
Crimson Moon is holding another party in May, but I don't think Cigi and I will be able to go. We do plan to go in July, however, but that's four months from now. What's a spank deprived bottom to do? Maybe some of you out there reading this can relate. Maybe some of you have an idea or two on how I can solve this problem? What do you when you feel you're not getting or giving your quota of spankings? Is there some little trick you know or a few words of advice you can give me?
That's all...have to get ready for work. That darkens my mood even more.