Summer of '74

The summer of 1974 stands out in my mind as a particularly memorable one. There was a lot going on that summer. The Watergate hearings were on all of the three channels we had, so days were spent trying to find some amusement to replace watching TV. I got my first period that summer as well. It happened in June, about a week after school let out. I had felt it coming. My twin, Carol, had started that January and never lost a chance to tell me she was a "woman", while I was still a little girl. She had also taken to wearing a training bra while I remained in undershirts. Aside from getting "the curse" as we called it, I had my first cigarette, too. I remember to this day being over at my friend Lisa Q's house. She had just gotten a new kitten and Carol and I went over to see it. While we were in her room, she snuck over to her older brother, Roger's, room and came back with one of his smokes. Now Lisa had what I would call a "princess bedroom", complete with a four poster bed (with a canopy) and priscilla drapes. I was horrified that she was going to "flick her Bic" with all that lace so close. But she did. It was a Marlboro and I remember the room filled with acrid smoke as soon as she lit it. I didn't live with cigarette smokers (my father preferred cigars or a pipe and my mother was a life-long non-smoker) so I wasn't used to the smoke. She held the cigarette out, asking if we wanted to try. As with everything else in our lives, Carol got the courage first. I'm sure we coughed and carried on, but it was the beginning of 32 years of being hooked. Anyway, besides getting my period and having that first smoke, something else happened that summer. It was something that shaped me and something I have never forgotten.

Even as a skinny, knock-kneed 13-year-old, I already knew I was interested in spanking. I had a crush on Mike Donlin, who lived with his parents, a college age brother and two younger siblings just three doors down from us. Mike was a high school kid and far too old for me to seriously consider dating. Anyway, Mike was already dating a girl who lived down the street; a girl from a nice, Irish family called Athey. The name of the older sister is lost to my memory. But I remember the younger sister, Dawn, who was my age. Dawn acted haughty, like she was better than other people. When we were younger, she had a doll I would have killed to have. It was large enough to require real baby clothes, which she purchased at garage sales. Anyway, we were way past that age. Dawn had left her gawky stage and was turning into a blond haired blue eyed beauty. She liked attention and knew how to get it. She was aware that boys found her pretty and lost no chance to use it to her advantage. The Donlin's were wonderful people, friendly and gracious and would have anyone over in the summer for tea or lemonade and Mrs. Donlin's famous ice cream cakes. One day, me and Dawn were over at the Donlin's watching Mary Anne, the lone daughter, do her toenails. She wore a pale yellow bikini and had her chestnut hair in a bun. The college age brother, name Tom, was home for the summer getting ready to cut the grass. He was tall, probably about 6'4" or so and rather stockily built. But Mike was the one I had my eye on. Unlike the rest of his family, who had reddish hair and brown eyes, Mike was fair haired with blue eyes. He was a dream. Tom came out to tell us that we had better clear the area because he was going to be running the lawn mower. Mary Anne and I were sitting on a white painted wrought iron bench, while Dawn sat on a matching chair nearby. When Tom came out and made his announcement, Marry Anne and I dutifully got up to go to the driveway, where she kept a chaise lounge. Dawn didn't budge. She was wearing a pink terry cloth one-piece short thingy. They were all the rage that summer. Hers was strapless and showed off her perfect tan and budding chest. Tom went over and started the lawn mower, n0t realizing Dawn was still sitting in the chair. I guess he was so concentrating on the task at hand that he didn't notice her. Well, Dawn hated not being noticed and when he made a pass by her, which sprayed her with grass clippings, she sputtered and made a fuss over it. She was standing there calling him every name in the book. He shut off the mower and walked towards her with quick, purposeful strides. I knew immediately what was about to befall her. Tom marched over to her, grabbed her by the arm, walked over to the bench and turned her across his knee, still swearing a proverbial blue streak. I was blushing because I had never heard such language before. He pulled the pink terry cloth one-piece short thingy into a wedgie, baring Dawn's bottom. This made her even more indignant as she threatened to tell her older brother, Dan, and he would come over and clean his clock. Tom didn't reply to any of this. He simply gave her one of the hardest and longest spankings I've seen to this day. By the time he stood her on her feet, her bottom was bright red and her freckled face was streaked with tears. I didn't know what to say so I wisely kept my mouth shut. I had a feeling that Tom had been wanting to do that for years.

A few days later, I was standing in line with some other kids waiting for the snow cone man. Two older boys, John and Doyle, came driving by in Doyle's car, an old model of undetermined make. When he saw the group of us, all girls, standing there, John grabbed something out of the car and put his arm out the window, shaking it. I saw immediately that he held a paddle.
"Don't let us catch any of you out here again!" he warned. "If we do, you won't sit for a good long time!"
I turned to my friend, Julie; the one I had shared so many school paddlings with.
"What was that about?" I asked.
She shrugged.
We figured they were just blowing hot air. Anyway, I didn't see them around for awhile so I figured there was nothing to it. About a week later, I had walked the five blocks to the gas station near my house to buy some cigarettes. I remember I was wearing a pair of cut off shorts and a peasant blouse that day and I had purchased the smokes from the machine out front. They were cheaper from the attendant, but I knew there was no way Mal (my buddy from the skating rink) was going to sell them to me. I tucked them into my back pocket and started for home. There was a grade school (and not the one I attended) right across the street from this gas station and the school had a big, open field. As I entered school grounds, I heard the engine of a car being gunned nearby. Looking behind me, I saw it was Doyle's car. I would never outrun them. So I made a beeline for the field, running as fast as my skinny legs would carry me. I heard the car engine and die and saw John and Doyle getting out to chase me on foot. Doyle had the paddle this time. It didn't take them long to catch me. I put up one hell of a fight, believe that.
"What did I say about catching you kids around here?" Doyle asked.
"It's a free country!" I replied brattily.
"Not for you, it ain't," John replied. "I meant what I said before. Now you're gonna get yours, little girl."
"I'm NOT a little girl!" I protested.
Doyle and John lost no time in getting me on the ground and it took both of them to get me turned over on my stomach.
"Well, lookee here," Doyle said, taking the cigarettes from my pocket. "This bad girl smokes."
"Hey, those are mine!" I said. "Give 'em back!"
Back in those days, cigarettes didn't come in a crush proof box (called a hard pack when they first came out). They came in soft packs that were easily damaged.

I think these old Marlboro ads might be where my "thing" for cowboys comes from, too. Who knows? Anyway, Doyle tossed my brand new pack of smokes to John, who stuck them in the pocket of his Levi's.
"Little girls shouldn't be smoking," Doyle admonished. "Now to teach you a lesson!"
With that, John held me down while Doyle paddled me. He simply unloaded on me like no one had ever done before. Even as naive as I was concerning boys, I knew that neither Doyle nor John cared if I smoked or not. In fact, they might have found me a bit more alluring after the fact. I thought they were doing it for pure meanness. It turns out that this really WAS a warning. That gas station had a shop where people could come in and get a tire changed or get their oil checked. Mr. Willoughby, the man who owned this station, along with Doyle and John and some others (including Doyle's older brother, Dave) smoked grass and played cards in the shop when there was no business. Because of the Watergate hearings, business was slow. Turns out, they had seen me go in to buy my cigarettes and had come after me as soon as they saw me leave. They didn't want us going into the shop and seeing what they were doing. But I have had some time to think about this and I believe there was another reason. I believe those boys were horny and curious and spanking had always been an acceptable way of touching a girl's bottom without getting into too much trouble. I consider this my first erotic spanking. I was certainly turned on, despite how angry and embarrassed I was. It was a way for them to get some sexual release without having to do anything sexual to me. I may have been interested in spanking, but I fought them tooth and nail.
"Man, this one's a little hellcat!" Doyle said and continued to swing the paddle.
I was exhausted and in tears when they finally got back in their car.
"That was a baby spankin'," John said pointing at me. "You'll get the real thing if we catch you around here again!"
My bottom felt like a thousand bees were stinging it and I could barely walk. I tried to crane my neck and survey the damage, but I couldn't stretch my neck that far. When I got home, I looked in the mirror. I was aghast. My whole bottom was bruised and the bruising extended to the backs of my thighs. Nowadays, I always look at my bottom after I get spanked. But this was the first time I did it that wasn't from my father or a teacher. Two days later, they got my friend, Lisa, pulling her off her bike as she rode home from summer school. She told her older brother, Roger about it and Roger and some of his friends paid John and Doyle a visit. My mother was a nurse and told us about John being brought into the ER with a broken arm. My mother knew John's family, the Ufens, well because she had been selling Avon to his mother for years and we also shared German heritage so we often saw them at Oktoberfest. I smiled to myself at the justice of it. If only my older brother had been able to do something like that. If you think having his arm in a cast dissuaded John from continuing the campaign of terror, you're wrong. He just never messed with Lisa again.

People who are young and don't remember these days may think this was barbaric. But we always considered things like this to be a rite of passage. We were just innocent teenagers back then. That Summer of '74 stands out as a momentous one for me. I was no longer a child, but not yet a woman either. I was curious to see if, like my friend Dawn, I had any kind of allure. Now what I'm about to relate still shames me deeply to this day. But to pay for my new cigarette habit, I needed cash. My allowance (plus the money I'd made that summer detassling corn) wouldn't support me. So I devised a way to make money. For $1, I would allow a boy to put his hand in my pants for ten seconds. Any boy with the money was given this privilege and word soon spread about my enterprise. I still had a crush on Mike Donlin and offered to let him have the honor for free. He pushed me away and told me take my hot pants somewhere else. I was stunned by his reaction. It never occurred to me that Mike was a nice Catholic boy and was mortified at the thought of compromising me in any way. He took me by the shoulders and shook me.

"You should have more respect for yourself than that," he scolded. "You should value yourself. Now go on home and hope to God I don't tell your dad."
"Are you gonna pay for my smokes?" I asked.
"That's a silly question," he replied. "Of course I'm not."
"Well, then I need money," I told him. "I make it the only way I know how."
"There are plenty of ways to make money," he said.

He was right, of course. But maybe, just maybe, like those boys who had chased me down and paddled me, I had mixed a bit of business and pleasure. Whatever the case, I stopped doing that after Mike's reaction. It was an interesting summer for sure.

October Chicago Crimson Moon Party Review-- Day One: Raring To Go

Well, it's November, so you all know what that means. The October Crimson Moon party is now a memory. It may have been the best party I've ever been to. The combination of awesome room mates and fun play just made this a perfect party. I don't see how it could have been any better. The drive up was great, with awesome weather and we only got lost once. Word to the wise: if you're driving to a Crimson Moon party from the south and you see the Sears Tower, you missed your turn somewhere. I knew, having Morton at seven a.m. that the chances were very good that our room wasn't going to be ready when we arrived. And it wasn't. But we had to get to the party early because Sherri was picking our other room mate up at Midway when her plane landed. The only thing we could do was sit in the lobby with our luggage and wait until a room was ready. Meanwhile, Sherri went to pick up Lisa, our other room mate, whom we were both meeting for the first time. While Sherri was gone, I went to lunch with another party attendee. I was famished and wanted something substantial. He suggested I put my luggage in his car rather than leaving it in the lobby and risk something being taken. I was in no position to argue. So we put my stuff in his car and he drove me and two other women next door to a restaurant. This restaurant pretty much knows us CMer's on sight. They have been waiting on us since we came back to this particular hotel back in 2008. I had my usual--nachos-- and bade everyone excuse me while I made a pig out of myself. I was so hungry I was lucky I didn't eat my fingers off. When we got back to hotel, after the guy wouldn't let me pay for my own lunch, Sherri hadn't gotten back to the hotel yet. I was getting worried because Lisa's plane had landed by then. What I didn't know was that there had been a slight delay and the plane had landed late. I guess this happens a lot and no one thinks much of it. When they arrived, I hugged Lisa and then went to get us checked in. No room was yet available. But one was being cleaned and the manager assured us that she would keep us posted as to when it would be done. She went ahead and let us check in because the room was "close to done". Finally, she gave us a room and key cards and had us go up. The elevator was crowded because of the cart we had our luggage on. I was nervous because I was conscious of how heavy we were. The elevator bumped to a stop on the fifth floor and, finally, the party could actually start. As soon as we stepped off, we heard the pleasant sounds of spanking. I smiled to myself. Oh yes, the party was starting. We got to our room and, to our dismay, the maid was making the beds. The room wasn't ready but they had allowed us to go up, probably to get us and our luggage out of the lobby. I wanted to rest because, quite frankly, I was tired out from dealing with the situation with the room. It was no one's fault. This is just how hotels are. But my friend, Jim, had other plans for us. We had no sooner got the maid out of the room, when Jim was knocking at the door. I was happy to see him, of course, but I was perplexed at how he had found our room. He said he had knocked on doors until he found us. I was dubious to say the least, but anyway, it didn't stop me from letting him spank me. Not only did he spank me, but he spanked Sherri and Lisa, too. This wasn't his first time spanking Sherri, but it was the first time he's spanked Lisa. He enjoyed having three bottoms to choose from, believe me. While Jim was there, Sherri got a phone call and stepped into the hall to take it. Lisa left as well, I think because she sensed that Jim wanted some time alone with me. Jim and I have a lot in common, including mothers with Alzheimer's. I asked him how his mom was doing and he told me "not good." I asked if she was going to rally and he shook his head. "Not this time," he said ominously. I felt like he had to know the end was near. I already knew how he felt about me. We had some time to cuddle and talk and then he had to leave. It was just about time to get registered, so I put on my party clothes and did my hair and make up. I had done my nails the previous evening and they still looked good. When we were all dressed, we went downstairs together. The newbie orientation was well underway and, in fact, they were finishing up, when we arrived. There was also a "sneak peek" where the vendors showed what they would be selling on Saturday. One of the vendors, who goes by Big Bubba on Fetlife, was there showing the paddles and straps he makes. His wife, Sissy, was with him. I asked him if he was available to play. He was wearing a cowboy hat, a western shirt and boots. He told me he had to hold off for a bit because he needed to get his gear packed up. Sissy volunteered to stay and do that so he could play. So off we went. Bubba is just about my ideal when it comes to a top. He's tall, well upholstered, has big, hard hands, listens well and loves to have fun with it. He also has a very comfortable and inviting lap. When we got to his room, we lost no time in getting the spanking underway.

We were about half way done when Sissy came back with the stuff. She was kind enough to take some pictures for us, which I posted on my Fetlife profile. He put me over the ottoman and used some of his toys on me, including a loop johnny and a mini-rug beater, both from Cane-iacs. He also caned me very nicely, being mindful though that it was only Thursday and I still wanted to play more. I always enjoy talking to Bubba and Sissy. I did that first at the July party, where I sat in their room for more than hour learning about how they met and how they got into the scene. But soon, it was time to leave and go find someone else to play with. That first "real" party spanking sort of sets the tone for the whole weekend. Photographically, this was a great party. I think I got more pics than at any other party. One of my favorite scenes of the night, aside from the one with Bubba, was getting a strapping from Joe, who goes by DrLectr on Fetlife. Bubba makes these straps called "Bible belts". It's just a strap with the word "BIBLE" stamped into the leather. Getting Bible belted is fast becoming a popular fetish. I had the privilege of getting Bible belted twice that weekend, once by Joe and once (with Lisa lying next to me on the bed) by Bubba and Rodney. It was so much fun. I had a blast. The catered dinner from Jimmie Johns was awesome, too. But the Bible belting was one of the first evening's highlights.

Joe is a great guy and a terrific top in his own right. He's gaining a lot of popularity, not only in CM but also in other groups whose parties he attends. He's a gentlemen and is another one who listens to the bottom. I'm growing very fond of him. In fact, Joe gave me my last spanking of the weekend. We were off to a good start and that could only mean that the next day was going to be just as good, or even better. But it was getting late and it had been a very long day. I was eager to hit the sack. When Sherri and I came to bed, Lisa was still off playing. And it was after one o'clock in the morning when Sherri and I came back to the room. I was soon drifting off to sleep, my sore bottom giving mute testimony to how much fun the first day had already been. I couldn't wait for Day Two.

Walk On The Wild Side

It all started innocently enough. A few months ago, I posted my first nude shot on my Fetlife profile. It was nothing to get excited about. It was taken at a tasteful angel that left the things I didn't want to show covered. Some called this cheating, but I was proud of my courage in posting something I wasn't completely comfortable doing. If I was going to post a nude photo, I was going to do it on my terms. I don't have the most beautiful body in existence. Not everyone is turned on by folds of fat, stretch marks and cellulite. So I have to be creative about how I pose and what angle the photo is taken from. That first photo started me with being more comfortable about showing my body naked. I still don't show myself from the front, but I've gotten braver when it comes to posting photos. Recently, I've become interested in the titillating possibilities of photographing myself bare bottom outdoors. Now don't misunderstand me here. I'm not one of those nudists who thinks everyone should just walk around with no clothes on. And I'm not one of those people who takes the risk hoping they will be seen by some vanilla person. I know quite a few people who love nothing more than shocking people. I'm not into that. I guess it's the threat of being seen that I find exciting. If I was actually caught, I would probably be mortified. I live in a small town and if I was to get caught with my pants down in public, I'm sure the people I work with would find out about it. My first pants free outdoor shots were taken on my deck. The house behind us, which I always thought was empty, has been sold recently so now there are neighbors on all three sides. I have to be very careful. The photos are taken on the sly and there's no chance for re-takes. I have to watch for neighbors, the mailman and also for people living in my own house. I never thought I would get any braver than this. But yesterday, someone dared me to take one out in a public spot. Now you have to know this about me before I go on. I have never been able to resist a dare. No matter how dangerous or how stupid, I have to do it. However, I draw the line that things that destroy property or inure someone else. Anyway, we have a bike path near our house and I picked this spot for my photo. The part I usually walk on runs adjacent to the highway. It was a gorgeous day--sunny and about 68 degrees--and so there were going to be a lot of people on the path. So I chose the part of the path that went the other way, into a wooded area. Call me a coward but the other way would have more than likely gotten me caught with my pants down. As I walked along, I began to look for something to rest my camera on. But there was nothing; no picnic table, no garbage can, nothing. So I kept walking, smiling politely at the bikers who passed me. Then I saw it. Right before a bend in the path, I saw a sign of some sort with a nail sticking out of it. My camera has a little string that can go around your wrist which is supposed to keep you from dropping it. I hung the camera on the nail, steadied it as best I could, set the timer and walk a few steps ahead. I was getting a tremendous adrenalin rush from this. I pulled my pants down just far enough to bare my bottom, then made to pump my fists in the air, but the shutter opened before I could do that. I debated doing a re-take, but thought better of it. I quickly pulled my pants back up and checked the camera. The photo turned out pretty good, considering the breeze was probably moving the camera a bit and my hands look awkward.

But all in all, this was a very cool experience. And it doesn't hurt that I'm getting $50 from the person who made the bet with me. Will I be doing more photos like this in the future? Maybe. Who can say? But to be bare bottom out in nature is an exhilarating experience. I have no plans to kiss discretion and common sense good-bye though. For right now, this is enough.

Crimson Moon Spanking Party Review--Part Two: The Rivalry

I woke up on Friday morning excited! One of the gentlemen in the group had arranged for a group of us to attend the Cardinal-Cub game at Wrigley Field that afternoon. All of the people in the group who have known me for any length of time know that I'm a rabid Cardinal fan. I haven't been to Wrigley Field since 1988, about a year before they finally modernized it and put up lights for night games. There was still some confusion about who was going and who had decided to stay home. Keith wanted to give a ticket to Pat as a birthday gift (he's a Cub fan, she's a Cardinal fan). The day before, I'd given my friend and fellow Cardinal fan, Tony Trystero, a paddle that I'd had made for his birthday. It was a small paddle with the Cardinal logo painted on it. He had been pleasantly surprised because last December when he'd had his birthday (three days before mine) we'd talked about me getting him a Cardinal paddle. But I'm sure that, until I gave him the paddle, he thought I had no intention of actually going through with it. But the look on his face when he got it was priceless. Tony's wife, Mary, decided to stay behind so Pat could go. It was a very selfless thing for her to do because she's as big a Cardinal fan as Tony is. At breakfast the game was THE topic of conversation. I noticed with some concern that storms had hit us overnight and earlier that morning. I hoped we'd get the game in without a delay or a rain out. The man with the tickets was proving hard to locate, too. So I was still worried about whether or not we were actually going. I hadn't yet paid for my ticket but I planned to give the money to the man who held them as soon as I saw him. I was also worried about being able to sit at the game. I was very sore and so I worried about the seats. I knew we were going to be sitting up in one of the higher decks so I knew the seats weren't going to be comfortable. I wore my red Cardinals World Champion T-shirt and white shorts. Breakfast was important because I knew I wasn't going to eat before dinner. There was no way I was going to buy any of the overpriced stadium food. I can eat anytime. I was there to watch a ballgame. I ate pretty hungrily, knowing that I wouldn't be eating until later. I was hoping to get some play in before we left, but that didn't happen. There was just too much last-minute confusion. We took the hotel shuttle to the Mall, where buses would be waiting to take us to Wrigley. I had no idea that the stadium was an hour away from our hotel. It was a Cub bus, but there was enough Cardinal fans to make the ride somewhat pleasant. Tony came to sit next to me. I told him brattily "This seat is taken!" but he just smiled at me and sat down. We talked baseball all the way to the ballpark. There were quite a large number of us, almost all of us having participated in a thread about the game on Fetlife. I was meeting these ladies for the first time. A couple of them were Red Sox fans. They had no interest in either team that was playing. They weren't even interested in the National League. But it was baseball and a great way to spend an afternoon. I wondered what the teams would have thought if they had known that a bunch of spankos were in the stands that day. We had good seats, beautiful weather, my three favorite players hit home runs, and the Cardinals won 9-6. It was a perfect day and there was spanking fun coming that evening. Here's one of the guys who homered that day, Matt Holliday:

The ball he tagged went a very long way. It came in his first at bat in the top of the first inning. Yes, the wind was blowing in the right way, but Matt is strong enough to hit a ball out of any ballpark, no matter what the weather. Yadier Molina, the Cardinals' Gold Glove catcher, also homered that day. So did Allen Craig, who is filling in at first base for our regular first basemen, Lance Berkman. The Cubs went on to take the remaining two games in the series, but this game, the one I was at, was an awesome win for us. Walking back to the buses after the game, the heavens opened and we got a downpour. We were drenched by the time we reached the buses. Of course, as soon as we got on the bus, the rain stopped and the sun came out. The air conditioning on the bus was turned up and we had a cold, wet one-hour ride back to the Mall. I couldn't wait to get into a warm shower. It was after 5 o'clock when we got back to the hotel. As we waited for the shuttle to take us back to the hotel, the bus driver admitted he had a "hot date" that night. I asked Tony if he wanted to try my paddle out on me while we were both still wearing our Cardinal gear, but he was wet and probably tired. I had no illusions that someone else probably felt that paddle in earnest before me. He did give me a few furtive smacks with it when I gave it to him. But I wanted a real session with him. He promised me one later. I went back to my room and got into a warm shower. I was so cold and wet, the shower felt awesome. Keith and Pat had enjoyed the game, even though the Cardinals had won. I got out of the shower and got dressed. Sherri had wanted to go, but had opted not to. She was a Cardinal fan, living in Kansas City. She asked me about the game and I told her. She seemed disappointed that she had missed her chance to go. The first person I looked for was Tony. Sherri put a sheet of paper on his door that said the room had been quarantined due to dreaded "noodle arm disease". I ratted her out to him. He had wondered who had put the sign on his door. First, we posed for a photo with the paddle I'd given him.

He really did love the paddle. The lady who made it had altered the Cardinal logo just enough to keep us from getting in trouble due to copy write problems. He had no idea I had actually gone and had it done. We had talked about how cool it would be to have a Cardinal paddle. It took me a long time to find someone willing to do that. Finally, I appealed to my friend Kitty of Kitty's Exotic Paddles. The result of her work, done despite the fact that she had been ill with a lung ailment, is the gorgeous paddle you see in this photo. But looks are only part of the picture when it comes to beautiful wood paddles. The way they feel is also important, so I had to have it used on me.

He really enjoyed paddling me with that paddle. Anyone who lives in Illinois knows and understands the Cub-Cardinal rivalry. Games between these two teams aren't like regular games, such as when the Cardinals play the Mets or the Dodgers or even another team in the National League Central. The Cubs-Cardinals rivalry pretty much exists because Peoria (my hometown) is halfway between Chicago and St. Louis. The body of Cardinals fans are called Cardinal Nation. There is no Cub Nation, Brewer Nation or Reds Nation. The Cardinals have a fan base that encompasses all 50 states to one extent or another. Places like Phoenix, Miami, Denver and Washington all have their own MLB teams. But whenever the Cardinals visit these towns there is always a large contingent of Cardinal fans. Tony and I talked about baseball while he spanked me. Then he gave Sherri a great spanking, which I photographed for her. Sherri is one of my dearest friends in the scene. But she has an issue with her appearance because she has no hair. So she's convinced that men won't play with her because she's bald. So she was thrilled that Tony played with her and appeared to enjoy it. I think that's what turned the party around for her. She also had a great time playing with my blogging buddy, Dr. Ken. Unfortunately, I didn't get to play with him. I missed out on a lot of play. There were just people I didn't get to play with. However, I did finally play with Suburban Spanker, one of my favorite people to play with. It had been a year and a half, almost two years, since I'd last played with him. We played, as we usually did, in Morgan's Lair. He put me on a bed with pillows under me and used several straps to strap me into bliss. The one thing that kind of disappoints me is that he almost never hand spanks me. He's a fabulous hand spanker. But he's also got enough of a sadistic streak to not be too concerned with me not getting exactly what I want. I don't say that he's uncaring, because that's not true. He's very caring. But he likes to inflict pain and like having pain inflicted on me. So we're a perfect match. His babygirl is a sweetheart, too. We didn't do more than say "hello" to each other. I assume she was kept very busy. I had another session with Big_Bubba which involved a cane made of some kind of wood. He told me what it was made of, but I forget now what it was. It stung a lot but it was awesome. Bubba is a great top and he certainly enjoyed playing with me. I spent almost an hour sitting in his room with him and his wife and they're wonderful people. They're also wonderful scene people, which means that they care about the scene and the safety and happiness of others. We need more people like this.
Between the scene with Suburban Spanker and Bubba, I was pretty toasted. But as I was walking down the hall, I ran into DrLectr standing there. He smiled at me and gave me a hug. I adore this guy. He says on his Fetlife profile that he was kicked out of Bible college for spanking women. He gave me a wonderful hand spanking, owing to the fact that I was pretty well toasted. Then he rubbed lotion on my sore bottom. We made plans to play again the next day but it never happened. Another one I wanted to play with was Michael, who goes by InspecherHide on Fetlife. There was enough back and forth between us on Fetlife for me to be relatively certain that he wanted to play with me. I certainly wanted to play with him. He was the complete package for me--nice looking, tall, blue-eyed, likes to laugh and is respectful. I think he got a bad impression of me. He and I set up a time to play that night, but I wanted to go with Sherri to Dr. Ken's room to play. She was afraid to go alone to his room and he was perfectly OK with me being there. But I missed our meeting time. When I went back to the public room to find him, he was gone. I was so disappointed that I'd missed him. He was someone I'd wanted to play with very badly and now the chance had passed. I didn't expect him to sit and wait for me. While I was disappointed, I also knew that there was still time for us to play. But I worried that he would think badly of me. I didn't want him to think that I played games. I did play more that night, but my mind was on thinking of how I had disappointed Michael.
Like the night before, it was about 2 o'clock in the morning when I decided to call it a night. Keith, Pat and Sherri were already in the room when I came in. I was sore but had had a fun-filled day. Day Three was ahead.

Crimson Moon Spanking Party Review--Day One: Being CherylKay

The last weekend in July is almost always reserved for the big three-day Crimson Moon spanking party. This year's party was special because I didn't get to go last year. I had no funds and no job so going to that party wasn't an option. I remember a good friend passing her phone around so I could speak to people who were there and all it did was make me eat my heart out. I made up my mind then and there that, if I was gainfully employed the next year, nothing was going to stop me from going. So now this year, being employed full-time, the party was a done deal. In fact, I remember telling my prospective boss when I interviewed me just two weeks after the party that I wanted to go to another party in October and that, if he had no plans to let me go, then he had better not even waste his time hiring me. Of course, he did hire me and I went off to the October party, where I got to watch my St. Louis Cardinals win the World Series.

The day before the party (Wednesday) was a bad one for me. I was supposed to go to work, but I had a gallbladder attack that was so bad I had to call in. I knew what my co-workers were thinking: she wants an extra day off. But I was really not well that day and I had a ton of stuff to do on top of it. One of those things was laundry. I had a ton of it that had to get done because I didn't want to come home to it. As I was downstairs sorting it, there was a knock on the basement window. I jumped a little because that's not something you expect. It was my buddy, Lon. Lon wasn't much into spanking when we first started our friendship. He was more into taking my temperature, playing with my ass and photographing me. My first attempts to get him to spank me were frustrating, to say the least. But eventually, he began to enjoy spanking me. He had the day off from work and there was no one home, so I came upstairs and let him in. Needless to say, he spanked me. I had

never been spanked while doing the laundry before. It was a first for me.

Usually, I don't like surprises. But this was one of those pleasant ones. I told Lon I didn't want to be all marked up for the party so he spanked me rather tamely while the laundry was in the spin cycle. I wished I could have spent the whole  day getting spanked, but I had a ton of things to do and my gallbladder was getting in the way of enjoying it anyway, so I told him he had to leave. He was disappointed, but understood that I was more preoccupied with other things to enjoy it too much. When he was gone, I decided I had better get my hair done. I'd gotten a permanent a few weeks earlier and now it was time to do my roots. My plan was to unveil the new, improved Cheryl Kay at this party. I'd lost over 50 pounds and changed my hair and clothes as well. The last thing I needed was gray roots spoiling my look. The days leading up to a party are always filled with last minute things, no matter how well I plan ahead. There are just some things that have to wait until the last minute.

The next day, I was excited. I didn't sleep really well so I was a bit tired. I got up around 8:30 and had something to eat. Because of the extreme heat we'd been having, I hadn't been able to walk or exercise as I wanted to and as a result, I was a few pounds heavier than I wanted to be for the party. But there was nothing I could do about it now. I got excited messages from people saying how much they were either looking forward to meeting me or seeing me again. Nine months is a long time between parties and a lot had changed since the last time they had seen me. I didn't want to be an attention whore, but I did want people to notice me. I think this is pretty much par for the course for a woman at a spanking party. Getting played with is the main goal and the more I could do to make myself look spankable, the better. However, the weight loss was for me, not for the people I might play with. A happy side effect of this was that my bottom got firmer, rounder and sat a bit higher than it used to thanks to all the walking I was doing. That and the tattoo I'd gotten in February made me think, for once, that I had a pretty appealing bottom. It's funny but I never thought so before.

With Zero Hour approaching, I got in the tub and made sure I was clean and shaved smooth. I have mentioned before that I have a scent fetish and I love things that make me smell good. This is also a concern when playing, especially in the summer time. No one wants to play with someone whose personal hygiene is lacking. I took the phone into the bathroom with me in case someone tried to call me. It annoyed my niece that I did this, but I tried to explain to her that I couldn't hear the phone from there, much less get to it to answer it. What's the point of having a cordless phone if you can't take it where you want to? Once I was out of the tub, I got dressed and went about checking to see what I still needed to pack. Unfortunately, I forgot to pack a comb, something that would bother me all weekend. Then I did my nails, which I had spent the last three months babying. The night before, while doing my hair, I broke a nail so I was determined not to break any more of them. About 1:15, my ride to the party arrived. They were actually a bit early, but I was ready. The drive up was wonderful and we made good time. As usual, when we got to the hotel, there was a glitch. They had given us a room for only two nights when Keith had actually requested the room for three nights. It took a few minutes to get that straightened out and we were soon getting settled in our room. Besides Keith, Pat and I, Badsherri was going to be rooming with us as well. I was used to four in a room from the days when Carol and I would room with our friends, Nasserine and Pris. It was a somewhat tight fit, but we always managed to make it work. To our horror, Sherri and I discovered that Keith had booked a King room, meaning there was only one bed, a king size, in the room. Sherri and I would be sleeping on the sofa sleeper. I had my doubts about how comfortable this would be, but it turned out that this was the most comfortable sofa sleeper I'd ever slept on. We got our things brought up and then got cleaned up so we could go register, it being after five o'clock. When I got to  the registration table, I was surprised to see that we would be getting issued "sanitized" name tags, meaning "Crimson Moon" wouldn't be appearing on it for the first time since I'd joined the group. The idea behind this was to keep curious vanillas from asking questions about what kind of group Crimson Moon was. Since I was a bottom, the card with my name printed on it was red. This would identify my scene orientation to prospective play partners. Then the four of us decided to go next door to a restaurant and have dinner. Sherri had already eaten so she only ordered a Coke. I had nachos because this restaurant served first class nachos.  Sherri helped me eat them. Keith and Pat ordered sandwiches. I hadn't really eaten anything since I'd been ill most of the preceding day so I was ravenous. We had to be mindful of the time because Pat, Keith and Sherri had to attend the newbie orientation, a quick meeting of people attending their first CM party.  Obviously, I didn't have to attend this meeting. So while they were at the meeting, I got my party clothes on. I had chosen my outfits with great care, as I always do for parties. I put my make up on and did my hair. I don't like to leave my room until I look my absolute best. Call it vanity if you have to, but I prefer to call it consideration for others. The idea is to get played with, after all and I know that I have to present myself in the best light possible. I was competing with an ever increasing number of young, beautiful and thin women who were coming into the party scene thanks to Fetlife. It wasn't like the old days, when my sister and I were two of the most popular bottoms in the group. Those days are gone. I no longer consider myself on the "A- List". No matter how much the owners of Crimson Moon tell us that there's no A-list in this group, there is. I'm not saying this to be critical lest anyone think otherwise. I love Crimson Moon and always will. But it's not like the old days before Fetlife caused an influx of very young and very desirable women to come into the party scene. Those young, desirable women are the ones all of the men want to play with. A fat, middle aged woman like me doesn't stand a chance against competition like that. So I have to do what I can to make myself appealing to tops. This isn't whining or hating on young women. It's just how it is. Anyone who says there's no competition isn't looking at reality. If I was a man and I had my choice between a fat middle aged woman (albeit one who loves to be spanked and can take a hard one) or a young, cute video model who could seal my reputation forever by just playing with her, yes, you can bet I would choose the young, cute video model and so would any other man who's honest with himself. Of course, I know that personality also plays a part and as soon as it becomes known that, no matter how cute or young a certain bottom is, if she has a lousy personality, she doesn't get the play time that someone who might not be as cute but who's worlds more fun to play with will get. That's where I stand, with the people who might have had a bad experience and just wants to play with someone fun.

So anyway, I went back downstairs where dinner was getting underway. I was still full of nachos so I just got myself something to drink and went and sat down. I didn't see Sherri, Keith or Pat. But I did see Alan, a guy who was so eager to play with me after seeing one of my photos that he started a thread on the CM group that ran for six pages. This guy was awesome to play with. His sub came into the room while we were playing (this happens a lot at parties) and Keith played with her. I had a ball with Alan. He really gave me a nice strapping, even though it was the first night of the party and I should have taken it a bit easier. But I hadn't had that kind of play for a long time. He gave me an amazing scene and it got the party off to a great start for me. I needed a break after all that lovely strapping so I happened into Morgan's Lair for a bit of rest. I saw my little scene sister, Sarahnade, there and quickly remembered that she'd neglected to return a phone call I'd made to her the previous week. I lost no time in putting her over my knee and giving her a quick reminder over her denim shorts that when Big Sister calls, she had better return it. Now this was all in fun. She knows that I enjoy spanking her, even though I'm a bottom. I spanked her the previous October at the All Girl Get Together and it had been fun. Now I pretty much have an open invitation to spank her any time I want to. One of the people who saw me spank her was Big Bubba, a local top I'd met the previous month at the pre-party munch I'd attended with Keith and Pat. When Bubba saw me spanking Sarahnade, I think his eyes bugged out of his head. He said "I thought you were a bottom?" I explained to him that I am a bottom, but sometimes, I enjoy topping. Anyway, it was very quick and I never even took her panties down. Well, Bubba made it pretty obvious that he wanted to play with me so we found a bed that was unoccupied and he gave me a really nice hand spanking. Since it was only Thursday, that's all I got from him. But he can bring it. He definitely loves to spank. Unlike a lot of guys who come from a BDSM background, he seems much more interested in spanking for its own sake than as a prelude to "something else". I can't understand why he hasn't come to a party sooner seeing as how he's local. But that's probably a personal decision. His wife is a sweetheart, too. I met her at the munch as well. Everyone was coming up to me telling me I looked great and hugging me and congratulating me on  the weight loss. It felt so good to get that kind of attention and to know that some of the younger men in the group wanted to play with me. But it was getting a bit late and decided to go back to the room to see if Sherri was there. She was and her feelings were hurt. She said the "newbie orientation" was just an excuse for the young, cute girls to act obnoxious. I told her to forget about that and come out and have some fun. I've had this talk with both Sherri and Pat before: nothing is going to happen if you lock yourself away in your room. Pat's problem is that she will not, under any circumstances, ask a top to play. She wants them to do the asking. I love her to death but that's an unrealistic expectation. I told her "I've been coming to these parties for years and I seldom get asked to play any more. If I don't do the asking, I won't get any play at all." One man I wanted to play with badly was InspectherHide. He and I decided that we were going to have to play after looking at each other's photos. He hugged me when he saw me saying "You look just like your pics! I'd recognize you anywhere." However, because I went with Sherri to play with my blogging buddy, Dr. Ken, he and I missed connections the next night and never did play. I decided that there was nothing I was going to be able to do. If I stayed in the room and played nursemaid, I was going to miss the whole party and it was one I waited nine months for. Not a chance. So I went back out and played some more. These were late night hand spankings that I got in just for the hell of it. Then, at about 1:45, I decided I had better call it a night. When I got back to the room, everyone was asleep. The sofa sleeper was either really comfortable or I was really tired because I slept as well as I've ever slept in a hotel. The next day, a bunch of us were going to the Cardinal-Cub game and I was excited. I'll post about Day Two tomorrow.

Painful Beauty

Author's Note: Today's entry has nothing to do with spanking. I'm going to discuss and rant on the things women have done in the name of beauty over the years. If you're offended by frank dialogue or disturbed by photos of people with deformity, then I suggest you skip this entry. This is also not meant to be male bashing. I love men! But there was a time when it wasn't like it is now between the sexes...as we'll see.

"Don't go changing to try and please me..." so sang Billy Joel in his 1978 hit "Just The Way You Are". That's a nice sentiment, but one that couldn't be further from the truth. Throughout the ages, women have done some pretty horrifying things to themselves in the name of beauty. Sure, we also do a lot of things that we do a lot of things that we never give a second thought to; things like putting on makeup, dying our hair a different color (or if you're like me, to cover the gray) or wearing clothing that men find attractive. All pretty benign when you think about it. But take it a bit further into the realm of the more uncomfortable; such as wearing uncomfortable high heels, getting our ears or other body parts pierced, or getting dermabrasion or a chemical peel. All are a bit painful in their own way, but the pain isn't permanent. I remember getting my ears pierced for the first time as a 13-year-old back in 1974. The girl who pierced my ears used a sort of gun to literally shoot the earring through my earlobe. It hurt like heck, but I was so proud to have withstood that rite of passage. But we also do other things that are more permanent and a bit more extreme; like liposuction, breast implants, having our noses or eyes done, tummy tucks, buttock lifts and other cosmetic surgery. We do it all in order to appeal to men or to make us feel better about ourselves (because now we can attract a man). But there was once a procedure practiced on innocent girls that goes way beyond anything a sane and rational person would do. Around 976 AD, there was a certain Chinese emperor who developed a romantic interest in a concubine with very small feet. He once watched her dance with ribbons wrapped around her feet and fell in love with her on sight. Thus, one of the most cruel and nefarious practices of all time took hold--the brutal practice of foot binding. For a thousand years, bound feet were the ideal of beauty and femininity. China was (and still is) a male dominated society. Women were expected to be submissive to the wishes of their fathers and husbands. So when foot binding took hold, no one really objected. Who, after all, didn't want to be beautiful and desirable? It started, as most fads do, with the upper class. A girl in an aristocratic home was expected to have bound feet, a required charm for catching a husband of wealth and good breeding. Men in China found bound feet to be incredibly erotic and there exist to this day songs, odes and poems all singing the praises of women with bound feet. Of course, a woman could rebel and refuse to bind her daughter's feet. But then, of course, she was dooming her to a life of spinsterhood. No man of any worth would marry a woman, no matter how beautiful the rest of her  was, if her feet were unbound. Conversely, a woman of ugly countenance could snag a husband if she had the requisite tiny feet. So men focused on womens' feet as the object of their sexual desire. But there were other reasons why foot binding was such a good idea (for men):

1) Foot binding effectively crippled the young girl for life. A girl with bound feet couldn't walk any great distance and so they were basically imprisoned in their homes.
2) A young girl who couldn't walk without assistance wasn't likely to be sneaking off to meet her lover. So bound feet were an outward symbol of chastity and purity.

3) Foot binding reduced a woman to being purely decorative. Unable to hold a job or earn a living, her only hope of a good life was a good marriage. Poorer women (especially in the rural areas) also began to bind their daughters' feet in the hope that the girl would marry above her station. This ploy rarely worked as the foot binding was often started later in life in order for the girl to be able to work in the fields or on the farm. Starting at a later age almost never created the desired effect--three inch "Golden Lotus" feet.

One happy side effect of foot binding (for men) was that the mincing gait of a girl with bound feet supposedly strengthened the walls of the vagina and made sex with her awesome (for men). For poor  girls with bound feet, a life of working at hard physical labor on the farm or in the fields meant a life of great pain and suffering. My feet are normal and they often ache after a regular workday. I can't imagine how much pain these women endured. But there's an old Chinese proverb that says "There's a thousand buckets of tears for a girl with bound feet." The women would sit daily and hand stitch beautiful tiny slippers for their feet. The tiny shoes were required because the wrapping never came off their feet, except when they were washed.

What, you may ask, is (or was) foot binding? The process started at a young age, about three to six years old. The bones are still growing at that age and it was easier to do to a very young child, who wouldn't be likely to fight it. First the feet were massaged to make the joints more supple. Then the arch of the foot was broken. This was extremely painful. Following this, the four smaller toes were broken and folded under the foot. Then the entire foot was wrapped in bandages that had been soaked in herbs and animal blood to keep infection from setting in. As the bandages dried, they constricted and pulled even tighter. The girl would be encouraged (or forced) to walk on her feet in order to break the bones further. The process normally took about two years to achieve the desired look. Take a good look at the young girl in the picture. Don't you think a smile would make her look prettier? I'm sure her feet are killing her. The feet had to be attended to daily. The toenails had to be trimmed regularly to keep the nails from ingrowing or sticking into the bottom of the foot. But no matter how carefully a girl's feet were tended, they always smelled bad because of fungus that couldn't be eradicated. Also pus from infections and putrefying flesh would have to be removed. Then the bandages were re wrapped, tighter than before. The men who adored these tiny feet often never saw them uncovered. The smell would have driven them from the room and the appearance would have caused them to recoil, as it did me the first time I saw it.

Again, there's no smile here on this young lady. Those feet, to my way of thinking, do not look beautiful. But then again, this is just me. Apparently, women engaged the services of professional foot binders because they would allow their daughters' tears to keep them from wrapping the bandages tightly enough to get the most desirable effect. Foot binding was outlawed in China in 1912, but continued on almost unabated in the rural areas (presumably because they were less effectively policed). But foot binding was done away with permanently around 1949 when someone finally noticed that these women couldn't work and were therefore a burden to the economy.

While Chinese women were enduring the hell of foot binding, their Western sisters were also suffering their own brand of hell on earth. Sometime in the 18th century or before that, someone (probably a man) decided that a thinner waist was desirable on women. Thus the torture contraption called a corset came into popular use. Corsets have come in a lot of forms over the years, but the main function of corsets was to push everything up and create a high full bosom and an unnaturally thin waist. As with foot binding, corsets became a symbol of beauty and femininity but also became a way for men to impose their dominance over women. A woman who didn't wear laces, was considered "loose" and undesirable for marriage. But a "straight-laced" girl was seen as pure and virtuous. This idea really took hold in the Victorian era, an era when mores and morals were extremely strict.

Ladies of good breeding and gentle raising were prized as delicate flowers. Women who were forced to endure these devices had a host of problems to overcome. First of all, they couldn't bend over once they were laced in so they had to put their shoes on before they were laced in. Also they couldn't eat much. They usually carried something called a "nutmeg grater" on a bracelet around their wrist. It contained ammonia salt or something aromatic in case she felt faint or swooned. A curious piece of furniture called a "fainting couch" was also invented so that the corseted woman could simply lie down on her side and faint conveniently without having to remove her clothing (a no-no in Victorian society). Women who were corseted tightly had a number of health problems associated with the displacement of internal organs. Because the last five ribs aren't connected to the breastbone (sternum) the abdominal organs can be moved. This sounds unbelievably painful. On top of that, Victorian women also utilized cosmetics containing lead and mercury and face lotions containing arsenic (easily obtainable in those days). All of these dangerous devices used together accomplished the Victorian ideal of beauty, grace and sweetness. Pale skin was prized, which was one reason arsenic was used as a face lotion. The hair was also a focus of mens' desire. They seemed to prefer it long and wavy. I can only suppose what was done to womens' hair in those days. It was burned with irons for sure.

So foot binding and corseting are only two of the ways that women were pressured to conform to an idealized version of female beauty. There was no "doing your own thing" as we have today. But make no mistake: the pressure is still there. Women who fail to conform to society's version of beauty are usually marginalized and relegated to also-ran status. As a woman who doesn't fit the Madison Avenue idea of beauty I have felt the pain of rejection. But the pain of rejection is temporary and passes with time. The pain of foot binding and corseting was permanent and unrelenting. It gives me pause to wonder what kind of pressure was applied to women to willingly allow themselves to be crippled and maimed. Isn't childbearing enough pain and suffering in a woman's life? And even though we've come a long way since those days, I have to wonder if we really have. Is the pressure still so great that women still subject themselves to the pain of surgical procedures that alter her physical appearance? They inflict strict diets on themselves to keep as thin as possible (preferably to be as thin as the newest supermodel). Women in some countries are allowing a modern form of foot binding--having their legs broken and stretched in order to lengthen the bones and give the woman longer legs. Why do we still do it? When will we be happy with being the person God made us as? When will we be happy in our skin?

OND 50's Spring Fling Party Review Part II

I slept really well that Friday night. Usually, my first night in a hotel, I don't sleep all that well, no matter how many times I've stayed there. It felt a bit strange to have such a quiet room mate. Usually, we all snore the paint off the walls. But Sherri was such a quiet sleeper that I got up a few times and checked to make sure she was breathing. When I would see that she was fine, I would go back to bed. Because my work schedule is fairly set, I get up at the same time every morning. When I got up, I noticed that Sherri was already up. The shower had been used, so I assumed she got a shower and had gone to breakfast. I could hear the clock radio playing. It was tuned to one of those all news channels and the talk centered mostly on the NATO summit happening in Chicago that weekend. I got up and turned it off and laid back down for a while. Then Sherri came back to the room and asked if I was interested in getting some breakfast. I was vaguely hungry and asked her to wait a few minutes while I got dressed. After I'd gotten my clothes on, we went to the lobby for the free breakfast. There was the usual motley collection of people one usually sees at a spanking party--people with their hair still wet from the shower, people still in pajamas and people who look like they haven't been to bed yet. The "free breakfast" at the particular hotel isn't very good, but I was a little hungry so I fixed myself a plate. I ate just enough to take the edge off my hunger. I knew I would probably be eating a big lunch so I took it easy at breakfast. I had some good conversation with the other people at the table. One of the people Sherri and spoke with was a lady who also had alopecia, although not to the extent that Sherri did. It was advanced enough that it was a noticeable problem for her. She wore a stylish wrap on her head. I also noticed that her eyebrows were drawn on. She had a very good no-nonsense attitude that I thought was really good for Sherri to see. I so wanted Sherri to have a good time and have nothing ruin the weekend for her. It did her good to see that someone else struggled with hair loss, too. I happened to mention that I couldn't get an Internet connection in my room and one of the women at the table suggested that I bring my laptop to her and she would get me connected. I was loathe to put my laptop into someone else's hands, but I had seen her at a few of these parties and I knew her dom fairly well. I figured she was OK. So I went and got my laptop and brought it to her. It took her all of five seconds to get me connected. I was grateful, but I felt inadequate, a feeling I hate. But I hate not having Internet access more, something I learned while I didn't have my computer. When I got resettled in my room, I downloaded the photos I had taken the day before. The Spanking Olypics photo was especially good, I thought. I told Valorie that if this photo didn't get me on Kinky And Popular, nothing would. Now don't get me wrong. I don't need to be popular. I have a nice circle of friends and I don't need anonymous people who don't even know me loving my photos. I much prefer to get a comment from someone who knows me or has played with me. But, just once, it might be fun to make K & P. But oh well.
Sherri came back to the room and let me know that a few of the group were going to the Asian market near the hotel with Gatita and would I like to go? It was a glorious morning and I needed to get a walk in so I said OK. Apparently, Gatita needed a few ingredients for a recipe she wanted to make. So we walked the short distance to the Asian market. The first thing I noticed was the perfume display. I didn't stop over and look at anything, but it got my attention. I love things that smell good. We looked around all of the strange, exotic things on the shelves. There was also a gift shop featuring the requisite tea sets and soup bowls. There were also stuffed animals based on anime characters, posters of Asian pop stars, different kinds of chopsticks, and a few pieces of jewelry. On the way out, after we had spent way too much money, Gatita told us how great the food stands at the food court were. So the idea was put forth to come back for lunch. I know some people like to plan everything out for these party weekends, but I prefer to just let things happen. I've never been able to plan every moment of the weekend. When we got back to the hotel, Gatita let us know that she didn't get everything she needed and would be going over to Dominick's to see if they had what she needed. In the lobby, Sherri wanted a photo with me so we stood next to each other and someone took the picture.

I can't remember who took this photo, but I see now that I wasn't ready to be photographed. I felt fat and tired. Sherri and I are "scene sisters" and she could never look anything but beautiful to me. I'm sure she would say the same thing about me, but I've always been critical of myself. Anyway, as soon as the photos were taken, we headed back to our room. No sooner had I sat down and kicked off my Sketcher sandals when someone knocked on the door and announced that they group going to Dominick's was getting ready to leave and, if we wanted to go, we had better come on. We were driven in a very nice Cadillac by the dom of Valorie's friend, Patty. The car was a bit packed. I had a hard time getting my long legs in a comfortable position in the back seat. But we were soon on our way. It took a few minutes to find it, but once we did, it was no problem getting over to it. I'm pretty sure that Gatita found what she was looking for. I bought a few things I really didn't need because I can't be in a store without buying something. Then we made our lunch plans more concrete and the dom decided to go, too. By the time we got back to the Asian market, the food court was now crammed with people. And the gift shop was crowded, too. I forgot how populated this part of Chicago was. Even though it was a suburb, the city we were in had over 200,000 people in it. And it appeared all of them had come here for lunch. Since Gatita was the most familiar with the food court (presumablyfrom attending other parties) we let her lead us in choosing a stand to eat from. The place we chose was a sort of Asian version of a burger joint. I opted for chicken rather than a burger, although the burgers looked and smelled wonderful. I had a chicken terriyaki sandwich and fries. The fries were incredible, hot and plentiful. There were different flavors of salt to sprinkle on the fries to give them different tastes, but I opted for good old fashioned American ketchup. I couldn't decide if I was really hungry or the food was really good. I suspect it was a little of both. Unlike American burger places, where you might get old fries that have sat under a heat lamp for God knows how long, these fries were fresh out of the grease. These little stands cook everything to order. There was an ice cream stand, too but I was so full I was afraid that I would need to be carried out of the market and back to the hotel. My pants felt so tight that when we got back to the hotel, I had to change into something else. Because of the weight I've lost, most of my older clothes hang on me. I have a real problem with jeans. I have to hold some pairs up. The pair I had worn to the market were falling off of me when we arrived but when we left, they felt tight in he waist. Man, was I full. But when we got back to the hotel, the Vendor Fair was in full swing. I really didn't need any more toys, but I at least wanted to look around and see what was for sale. My thing now is jewelry. I used to collect watches and earrings when I was younger. But circumstances sort of took my mind off of that. I'm getting back into it though. There was a very nice lady selling handmade glass bead jewelry and I struck up a conversation with her. Apparently, she was vending for the lady who actually made all of the lovely things I was seeing. A pair of green glass bead earrings caught my eye and I knew I had to have them. Green is my favorite color and the price was right so I bought them. I was sick of buying cheap stuff. I was really beginning to get back into quality stuff. And, to be honest, I felt I had gone without long enough and I worked hard. So what if I wanted a pair of earrings? I had no sooner put the earrings in my purse than I heard a familiar voice. It was Big Jim. I have known this guy since I attended my first ever party nine years ago. He didn't look like he was sleeping very well. I worried about him and he knew it. He wanted to play and so I took him to my room and he gave me a nice spanking. I hadn't seen him for a long time and the last time I'd seen him he was angry at me. So we sort of had a lot of catching up to do. Unfortunately, I had forgotten to put the Do Not Disturb sign out (something I have been guilty of more than once) and, while I was still bare bottom over his knee, the housekeeper came in. She knocked as she entered. It took a second or two for her to realize what was going on and when it dawned on her, she said "Excuse me" and left. I'm pretty sure she went straight to Confession. Jim and I had a pretty good laugh at the look on her face when she came and saw us the way we were. I know this was mean of us and I'm the last person who likes to shock vanilla people. I'm a firm believer that vanillas can't consent to be part of a scene. It was my fault for not putting the sign out. Maybe someday I will learn my lesson regarding that. Anyway, pretty soon Sherri came in and I introduced her to Jim. He gave her a very cute spanking, during which I took some pictures for her to take home and show Will. I could tell that Jim took it easy on her despite her contention that she was a hard player. No matter how hard you play, Jim can play on a whole different level. Kind of like SuburbanSpanker.

Jim wasn't the least bit phased by Sherri's lack of hair. Probably because he was so used to seeing Carol without it. I think she had a really good time playing with Jim. She had to know that Jim wouldn't be one to judge someone based on outward appearance. They had a really good scene, I thought. I love to watch people play, but I sort of got the impression that I should have left them alone. After she got up off his lap, Jim said he would be right back. While he was gone, Sherri and I discussed how she felt about playing with Jim. She had a great big smile on her face, so I figured she'd had fun. A few minutes later, he returned with his friend, Matt. I knew him as the Violet Wand Guy. I had seen him at Beat Me, but I didn't know his name. Somehow, this scene evolved into Sherri and I getting caned side by side, something I really love.

This was a really fun scene that sort of went on for a while. I was amazed that I actually marked. It has been years since I marked like this. Of course, they didn't last. But it was nice that Jim took some photos for me to remember the scene by. I knew that Matt was participating in the Vendor Fair (which was open to the public) but I didn't know he was playing. I assumed that Jim squared it with Valorie first before he took Matt to our room. I also assumed that spanking wasn't his thing because I only saw him with his Violet Wands. It just goes to show that even someone who's been in the scene as long as I have still isn't safe from making assumptions. Anyway, this scene was great fun, punctuated by Jim's signature line "Don't you sass me, woman!" But the scene had to end and the two men went their way. There were hugs and smiles all the way around. I asked Sherri to tell me point blank if she had enjoyed playing with Matt and Jim and she said "Oh my God, yes!" I looked at the clock and decided that it was getting close to time for dinner to be served so I made the decision to get in the shower. I told Sherri that if she heard a scream in the shower, it was just the hot water hitting my sore bottom. I wasn't in the shower that long, but when I came out, she was still lying down and had darkened the room. I asked her if she was going to get up and get dressed, but she told me she had a headache and just wanted to lay down. Of course, now I was worried about her. I asked her if she had anything she could take for it and she assured me she already had. So I  went ahead and got dressed while she slept. When I was all dressed, I went to the public room and dinner hadn't been served yet. Apparently, it was running late. So I sat down with some other party guests and chatted and ate chocolate. I was still worried about Sherri. I went back to the room to check her a couple of times before dinner and she was sleeping peacefully. Finally, it was announced that dinner was ready. There was Italian beef (with really good bread), vegetarian lasagna, vegetables and fruit, cupcakes left from the night before and still plenty of soda to drink. I ate my fill (mindful of the huge lunch I'd eaten) and soon, Valorie announced that the evening's contests were getting underway. For the most part, I find these games to be tiresome, especially tonight since I was more worried about Sherri than about who had travelled the furthest to attend the party. The man who won had come from Texas, almost 1300 miles away. His prize was the toy of his choice from any toy on the table, except for the little paddle with the poodle painted on it. That was reserved for the winner of the Best 50's Costume. True to form, he chose the meanest looking toy that was there. All of his toys were ridiculous. No wonder no one wanted to play with him. This guy had gotten into it the night before at the Spanking Olympics with one of the guys who was spanking me, telling him he wasn't doing it hard enough and that, if need be, he could use one of his toys to "teach me a lesson". The man, a switch whom I've known and played with for years, was very polite. He told him to mind his own business. But the man kept up a running commentary about how this game was silly and no one was "doing it right." In fact, I didn't expect to see him again after that because he got his feelings really hurt. The next contest was Cutest Panties, one I always entered. There were about ten of us, including Gatita, who was wearing what we had dubbed years ago as the "Sista Panties". These were panties owned by Gatita, our friend Soxi and me. They were white rumba panties with small multicolored hearts on them. Here's a photo of them:

As cute as they are, I'm sad to say that these didn't win. However, a cute pair of rumba panties DID win the prize for Cutest Panties. Next, the men held their "competition" if it can be called that. The winner chose his prize and it was time to move on the Best 50's Costume. As good as everyone looked, I had no doubt that Gatita was going to go home with that adorable poodle paddle. She had really gotten into the spirit of the occasion, donning a pink poodle skirt with crinolines underneath, a cute short sleeved top and ankle socks with poodles on them. I was right, she won the prize without much competition. I know she had to have wanted that paddle very badly to go to that much trouble. The last competition is one I've been participating in for a while now. It was the Wickedest Implement Contest. Geekybaker and I each took turns taking a hit with whatever nasty toys anyone felt like entering. We had to rate the nastiness on a scale of 1 to 5. Most were in the three range, but a couple made it to the 4 range for me, even though Geekybaker only gave them threes. The winner was a truly nasty toy wielded by a female domme. I think some of the men felt slighted because, for once, the prize went to a woman. With the conclusion of the contests, it was time to find someone to play with. I went over to a new guy, whom I'd promised a play date as soon as all the contests were over. We went to his room and he had all London Tanner toys. Finally, a top with good taste. However, his technique was a bit sloppy. As a newbie, I told him he would get better with experience and not to worry about mishits. Those would happen. He never made one false move towards me or took any kind of a liberty. I actually had fun with him as he was gracious enough to allow me to top from the bottom. When we finished, I went back to the public room to see if I could find Rodney. Of course, he was there and wanted to play. I asked him to give me a half hour to recover because I didn't want to be sore when we played. After I rested and had something cold to drink, Rodney and I went off to his room. As an avid photographer, I knew he would indulge my desire for photos that I could post to Fetlife. As it happened, we took  some with my camera using his tripod and they turned out very nice. I got one of the best OTK shots I've ever gotten.

He wanted to take pictures with his camera, too, but didn't get any "action" shots with his. Just pictures of the results of his spanking. I tend to like action shots best. When we finished, I went back to the room and Sherri wasn't there. Now I was really worried. I looked for her in the public room and also in the work out room. All of her stuff was still in the room. No one had seen her either. Right about the time I was ready to go the front desk and tell them they had a missing guest, she came back to the room. I was relieved. I asked her if her headache was gone. She admitted she never had a headache. She said that someone on Fetlife had said something hurtful, though I couldn't get her to tell me anything specific. We talked for a long time and I asked her if she wanted me to have Rodney come to the room and play with her. No, she told me that her head space wasn't good for playing. I was kind of sad for her because she had done all this driving and had more to do and she had hardly played at all. I wanted her to tell me who had hurt her, but she dodged the issue. I think she was afraid that I might get physical with whoever it was. I never did discover what really happened. It was getting late and I asked her where she'd gone. She went to the IHOP near the hotel and got an omelet. When she was done eating, we went to bed.
The next morning, her spirits were much better. However, we got lost again getting on the road. I told her, when we were seeing the Sears Tower in the distance that I thought we were going the wrong way. So we stopped at a Dunkin' Donuts and got some breakfast and headed back to the hotel. The manager at the desk was happy to Google directions for us. Soon, we were on the road for real. As much as I love these parties, I'm usually ready to get home by Sunday. We had beautiful weather and once we got on the road, no incidents to mar the day. When she pulled into my driveway, I had a pang because I knew post party drop was inevitable.
The party was a huge success for me and I know Valorie was heartened by seeing the nice turn out we had. I can only wonder now what the theme for November's party will be.

OND 50's Spring Fling Party Review- Part I

The Our Need And Desire 50's Spring Fling spanking party is just a memory now. But what memories it created. Due to several circumstances, not the least of which was lack of funds, I hadn't been able to attend an OND party for a year and a half. It had been November, 2010 the last time I saw Valorie (the lovely lady who runs the group) and at that time, she was in poor health and unable to enjoy herself fully. That wasn't so this time. In fact, it was easy, when you saw her, to forget the physical challenges she had faced in the past year or so.

I made the trip north with my friend and scene sister, Sherri. Sherri is a pretty special lady. She suffers from hereditary alopecia (hair loss) and it tends to make her very uncomfortable in social situations. Sherri and I met at Beat Me In St. Louis (if you read my previous post you know this) and hit it off right away. She's kind of reserved around people she doesn't know well, but she knew with me, she could just let loose and be herself. Half the battle, however, was me getting the weekend off and getting my party fee in. I work with a lot of high school kids and that particular week happened to be loaded down with proms and graduations. Even though it was my real, actual weekend off, I was afraid I would be stuck working because we had six kids graduating or going to prom that weekend. I paid my party fee before I ever knew whether or not I was going to get the weekend off. I just though I would pay it on the off chance that I would get to go or, if I didn't, that Valorie would roll the fee over to another party. A lot of spanking clubs do this because you just never know when something is going to come up at the last minute and prevent you from going. Out-and-out refunds are rare or unheard of, but roll overs are common. Imagine my surprise when I got the weekend off! Sherri and I had discussed going up a day early (on Thursday) because Valorie has a tradition of having a communal dinner that night for the early arrivals. This party, they were planning to order deep dish pizza from a well-known Chicago restaurant. However, Sherri messaged me on Tuesday to let me know that leaving Thursday wasn't going to be possible because of work commitments. So I enjoyed my day off Thursday, getting myself packed and getting my laundry done so I wouldn't have to come home to it. Plans for her to arrive at my house at 6 am on Friday also fell through. She decided she had to get some sleep since it would take her between five and six hours to reach my house. I woke up Friday morning to a perfect day. The weather was ideal, not too hot or too chilly and only slightly windy. When Sherri pulled into the driveway, it hit home for the first time that I was actually going to make it to this party. I hadn't allowed myself to get overly excited for fear that something would come up and I wouldn't be able to go. I asked Sherri how the drive so far had been. She told me, since she works where there are a lot truck drivers, that they gave her great advice on what roads to take what roads to avoid. She seemed pretty calm and relaxed, unlike I would be if I had to drive that far. She told me she needed to stretch her legs a while and use the bathroom, so I let her come into the house. We sat on the couch and talked for a little bit and she petted our black lab, Jasmine. I didn't want to rush her, but it was after twelve o'clock and if we didn't want to hit rush hour Chicago traffic, then we needed to get going. She helped me get my bags in the car and we were soon off. She said having company for this leg of the trip would make a big difference. I can't really remember what we talked about, but I know we discussed how we got started in the spanking scene. Both of us, despite the almost ten-year difference in our ages, had had an interest in spanking scenes in comic books, television and the movies. This was a lot more prevalent in my childhood than it had been in hers. But there it was; despite the differences between us, we both liked getting spanked and watching others get spanked, too.
The trip progressed, with a stop at the gas station for some gas, food and a new pair of sunglasses. Things progressed really well until we hit I-290 and took our first wrong turn. Of course, we didn't realize that we had taken a wrong turn until we were about ten miles past where we needed to turn. So we found an exit and got off the highway to find somewhere to ask for directions. When we saw a Wal-Mart sign, Sherri thought this was a good place to ask. Actually, the plan was to buy a map, but they were sold out. So we asked one of the guys working there for directions. He wrote some directions out for us and then said beyond what he'd given us, we would have to find a gas station or something. Well, I was worried because Sherri was becoming frustrated and her irritation was showing. We got back on the road and again overshot our mark. Pulling into a CVS Pharmacy, we got directions back to where we were supposed to turn by a local kid who spoke ghetto. But at least Sherri was ableto understand him and we were soon off again. About five miles down  the road, I spotted a hotel that was the same as the one we were looking for. It was even right off the road that we were told to turn off of in the original directions that Sherri had written down before the trip. While she stayed in the car, I went in to see if we had the right hotel. There was a NATO summit happening in Chicago that weekend and almost all the hotels within about a twenty mile radius of the city were full. When I went in, I knew this wasn't the hotel (unless they had redecorated since the last time I was there). There were men in suits everywhere and I had to wait quite a while to get waited on. I was tired and felt scruffy among all those well dressed men. When it was my turn, I went up to the counter and said "We've been driving all day so forgive me if this is a stupid question, but is this the (insert name of party hotel)?" The lady told me no, we were in Rosemont. Well, I suspected as much because we were just off of Mannhein Road, which is the road the old Rosemont Horizon was located. She offered to Google directions to our hotel and print them out for me. Even though I don't get into girls, I wanted to kiss this lady. I was so tired and felt so dirty and dusty from being in a car for six hours. When she had the directions printed, she gave them to me. Just then, Sherri came in, probably wondering what had happened to me. I gave her the printed directions and we were soon on our way again. Just a few short minutes later, we pulled up into the parking lot of our hotel (of course, after missing the entrance the first time). To our horror, a large section of the hotel was being resurfaced and we had to walk our luggage the long way to the front door. But once we got inside, I recognized the place immediately. The first person I saw was Valerie. She had been sitting in the lobby, probably in order to welcome arrivals, with another lady whom I didn't recognize. I learned a little later that this was Gatita, whom I knew from talking to online. But because she never showed her face in her photos on Fetlife, I didn't know who she was. My hair was a mess, my clothes were wrinkled and I had no make up on. You can imagine how bad I felt because I like to look my best. And here I was meeting someone for the first time looking like something the cat had dragged in. I also saw my friend, Queenie, whom I hadn't seen since that last OND party. She had had some health problems herself since then (including back surgery). She was with her friend, Sapphire, who was attending her first party. They were dressed in identical outfits and I volunteered to take a photo of them together. Queenie looked great and I told her so. But it was time for me to crash for a little bit. My nerves were a little frazzled and I needed to decompress for a bit. I got us checked in and then we went to get settled. I was a bit chagrined to discover that I couldn't get an Internet connection in our room. I heard others were having the same problem so I assumed it was going to be something I would have to deal with all weekend. However, the next morning at breakfast, someone in our party would fix that. Anyway, we got settled and decided which bed we each wanted and Sherri called her husband to let him know we arrived safely. I decided to go get registered since it was now after 5:30 and the official registration time had come. I went to the party room and met a nice lady there who was doing the registering. She asked me what name I wanted to use and if I was a top, bottom or switch. Telling her I was a bottom, she wrote my name on my name tag with red ink (see above). I went back to my room and decided to change into my party clothes. I had purchased a purple outfit to wear because Valorie loved purple (it was her favorite color) and also because I wanted to show off the new and improved Cheryl. I had lost about 50 pounds since the last time Valorie saw me and I was eager to show my new figure a bit. The outfit consisted of a purple and pink Aztec print top and a purple skort (skirt with shorts underneath it). I wore my hair in pigtails, not because it made me look younger, which it didn't, but because my hair is at that stage where I want to wear it up in hot weather, but it falls down in a ponytail, so I put it in pigtails. White sandals completed the ensemble. When we arrived back in the party room, dinner had already been served, but there was plenty there. Fifties music was playing on a laptop on one of the tables, setting the tone for the weekend. Valorie thinks of everything and that's why her parties, though small, are fun. I should have been more hungry than I was. But I was also eager to play so, once I ate my fill, I asked a switch friend whom I've known for many years to play. He's always amenable, so we went off to my room to play. I hadn't seen him since he came to Peoria to spank me on my birthday. He gave me a very nice warm up spanking and we had a pleasant conversation. We were just finishing up when Sherri came in. She ended up getting spanked, too. I enjoyed watching her. She squirms and giggles so cutely. He kept trying to get her to say her bottom wasn't ugly. When we returned to the party room, people were eager to play. I'm not sure how the next scene even happened, but I think it stemmed from me wanting to make Sherri more comfortable with public play so I got over the spanking bench that was set up in the middle of the room and allowed men to come up and spank me. Somehow, this evolved into the first-ever Spankng Olympics. I don't know whose idea it was to hold up score cards nor did I know where they came from. But it sure made for a great photo op.

For some reason, I felt like the belle of the ball. All of the men wanted to spank me. The top spanking me here is a guy I haven't played with in more than five years. I later heard it said that almost all of us who attended could be considered "misfits" and that's why we all headed to Valorie's party, because she welcomes people who have a hard time fitting in at other parties. I guess the real test will come later this summer at Crimson Moon. I was really hoping this photo would make it into Kinky And Popular on Felife. However, either this photo isn't kinky enough or I'm not showing enough boobs to be popular. For whatever reason, the appeal of the photo is limited to spankos so it didn't make it into that hallowed group, Kinky And Popular. At least my friends liked it.

I met a number of people I had only seen on Fetlife that weekend--Steady Laughing, Gatita, Geekybaker, Wicked Enigma, and a guy who went by the name "beginnings", who will also be at CM this summer. In fact, I played with him a bit later that night. He's inexperienced, but willing to learn. Plus, he has a nice collection of London Tanner toys, which shows he has good taste and high standards when it comes to toys. I was nicely toasted and ready to call it a night when I was reminded that there was a Pajama Party that night. I asked if we were going to do each other's hair and make prank phone calls, for which I received a spur of the moment spanking from a nice top. Everything was fun and light here, even if the spankings were hard. I don't like a party atmosphere where everything is so serious. I went back and changed into my pajamas (being sure to keep my bra on as I had no desire to walk around in public without on one) and made an appearance in the public room. I also helped myself to some of Geekybaker's cupcakes. They were delicious and I had already made up my mind that I wasn't going to count calories this weekend. Valorie, Sherri, Geekybaker and a few others took their turns on the spanking bench and the night concluded on a merry note for me. The next day would be even more fun and I will write about that tomorrow.