Monday, May 6, 2013

Boardwalk Badness Weekend Party Review-- Part VI

We all slept way too late on Saturday morning. I awoke to the cold realization that this was the last day of the party. It would soon  be over. There was an event scheduled that morning and we almost slept too late to attend. Lisa and I got dressed and did our hair and make up, all the while trying to convince Sherri to come with us. I don't think she understood how the event worked. It was called the Uniformed Top Event (when I first saw this as a thread on the BBW group, I thought it said Uninformed Top Event) and the way it worked was simple. All of the tops were required to be male (no female tops at this event...they already had an event for female tops) and attired in some kind of uniform or costume. It was like a Sadie Hawkins dance--- the girls did the asking and the men weren't allowed to say "no", no matter how unappealing the woman was. OK, going up and grabbing a guy doesn't really count as "asking". The thing was a total meat market and you didn't hear one person complaining. Sherri refused to go because she was afraid of being ignored. Lisa and I both tried to explain to her that the woman does the asking and the man couldn't say "no", but she refused to believe that's how it would go. So Lisa and I went off without her. I'm a bit ashamed of this, but I had looked forward to this event all weekend and I had no intention of missing it. When we got to the ballroom (where the event was being held) we were delighted to see that we were among the first to arrive. We picked chairs strategically placed near the stage and waited for the men to arrive. There was excited chattering among us female bottoms as the men were brought to the entrance and lined up. There were all kinds of uniforms and costumes--- firemen, cops, military, cowboys, businessmen, judges, doctors, even Zorro put in an appearance. All of the men looked dapper and excited about the prospects of some great spanking fun ahead. I knew who I was going to pick first. His name was Josh and he was wearing a Yankee jersey. Even though I'm a die hard Cardinal fan, I knew realistically that if I didn't grab Josh and play with him at this event (where I had zero chance of getting blown off) I would probably not get to play with him. When they announced that it was time for us to make our selections, I went up to the stage and said "Come on, Josh". I took him by the wrist and he came down off the stage. There were little privacy booths that looked like voting booths that had been set up for private play, but they were all filled so Josh asked if just sitting on a chair would be OK. What was I going to say? No? I let him lead me to a chair where I lost no time in getting over his lap. I had admired a photo he had posted of his spanking hand in honor of "Palm Sunday" and I couldn't wait to feel it. He had a very firm spanking hand and his style was very nice. I had expected a limp wristed spanking from a guy who I felt wasn't that interested in spanking me. But I was pleasantly surprised with the spanking he gave me. It was short, but nice. When he was finished, I thanked him and he went back to the stage. The men were supposed to return to the stage when they were done in order to await their selection by the next bottom. I saw many there, Josh among them, who rarely, if ever, made it back to the stage before another woman grabbed them. It was Josh's first party and I wondered if he was a bit overwhelmed. I wanted to play with him for real, but as I said, I didn't think he was that interested in spanking an old woman like me. Anyway, I didn't see him around that much. This event was a good chance for bottoms who felt they had no chance to play with someone to at least get some play in with a guy who couldn't refuse them. I saw all the Pretty Young Things there and to be honest, I felt somewhat out of place at this event. Sherri had at least one thing right--- the men would probably much rather play with a PYT than with someone like me. I'm sure more than one of the men I selected felt that I cramped their style. One top that I found extremely attractive (and knew from CM parties of past years) tried to engage me in a bit of role play. He was dressed as what I presumed was a motorcycle cop, right down to leather gloves. Our bit involved a jaywalker with no regard for public safety. It was really fun and he spanked me with enthusiasm. I remember Carol telling me excitedly about playing with him at one of the last CM parties she attended. I also got to see Joe in his fireman's uniform. The insignia were removed, but you could tell this was a real uniform and not a costume. As he was making his way back to the stage, I took his hand and said "Oh no you don't, Joe!"  He spanked me with a fire hose and scolded me for pulling a false alarm (not realizing I had done just that when I was a kid). It was a lot of fun. Another one I played with was dressed like a cowboy. I have a major thing for cowboys and he obliged me to the hilt, tipping his Stetson and calling me "ma'am". He was fairly tall with a nice hard hand and a great lap. He was another one I'd wanted to play with but felt way too shy because he was so good-looking. Why would he play with an old woman when he had a roomful of PYT'S to play with? This was just me being insecure. No one actually said anything of the sort to me. But I could tell the guys who weren't into me. All in all, I got spanked nine times, all of them were nice. Yes, there were a few I didn't get to. One was a guy from Switzerland called Oak. He was extremely attractive and young (early to mid 20's I would guess). When I had first seen him, I had him pegged as a bottom because of how young he looked. I was surprised when I got home and checked his profile and found out he was 31. He was tall and blond and very handsome. And he was always surrounded by women. I had watched him spank a lady at a suite party the night before and had been impressed with what a good technique he had for someone so young. Being a realist, I was pretty sure I wasn't pretty enough or sophisticated enough for him. He was a foreigner, after all. I doubt he will ever come to Chicago so that opportunity has more than likely been lost for good unless we both attend another BBW.

After the event (during which no photos were allowed, which explains why I don't have any) Lisa and I went back to the room. The head of the group, Mike Tanner, had kept up an annoying running commentary, keeping public track of the number of spankings certain women had received. It was all group "favorites". I assure you no one was keeping track of how many spankings I was getting. Like everything that weekend, it became a contest and a way to showcase the women who were "favorites". It was the same with the "Greeter Bunnies". On Friday night, a group of women (the most attractive in the group) dressed as Playboy bunnies and were going around greeting and schmoozing with the guests. Not one of them greeted me. Of course, we were greeted and invited up to the pool by Richard Windsor that first day and by Mike Tanner (but probably only because Lisa was carrying a big pan of fudge with her). But no one else on the board went out of their way to make me feel that they were happy to see me or to treat me like I belonged. It was all very, very cliquish. If any board member says "There's no cliques in our group" they're either out-and-out lying or they are in serious denial. The board members all have their favorites, even in Crimson Moon. I'm a ten-year member, but I have yet to make the A-List.

Anyway, we told Sherri all about the event and she expressed some regret about not attending. She asked me if I wanted to go down to the beach and see the ocean for real and I said I did. She had already gone down once, during the Uniformed Top Event, but she knew I wanted to see the ocean. So together, we walked down to the water. It was a pretty short walk, as the hotel was almost right on the beach. The sand was wet and cold, but this was probably going to be my only chance to see the ocean so I put on my big girl panties, and off I went.

The water was indeed freezing, but I didn't care. It was the ocean, with all the power the ocean has. Yes, I've seen big rivers, like the Mississippi and the Delaware. And I've seen Lake Michigan. They are all impressive. But they aren't the ocean. I wanted to savor the moment. Despite how cold it was, there was a family (a man, his wife and their little girl) on the beach, too and he offered to take a photo of Sherri and I together. We posed together for him and he snapped photos like this was a family event.

I was thrilled to not only be seeing the ocean for the first time, but to be seeing it with one of my best friends. I picked up some shells and rocks to take home to my sister and then we had to get back inside before we both caught pneumonia. There were actually some surfers out that day, hoping to catch some big waves. I thanked God for allowing me to see part of His creation. It filled me with awe and wonder. I felt even more like a tourist because people were walking around ignoring it, or at least taking it for granted. To me, seeing the ocean was a very big deal and I don't apologize for the big deal I made of it.

We got back to the room and got changed and cleaned up for that evening's festivities. That night, the theme was "Hooray For Hollywood", a kind of homage to classic movies. Better yet, they were going to feed us. There was a red carpet that led to the ballroom. I was kind of interested in seeing what kind of costumes they had come up with. Some were amazing, some not. The food, which was really good, was served buffet style, while the disc jockey played well-known movie themes and the projector showed famous movie posters (with photos of the group "favorites" PhotoShopped over the stars' faces). A little later, there was a comedy skit involving life on Fetlife, during which there were more f-bombs than I could count. Again, the group "favorites" were involved. No one came to me and asked me if I would be interested in being in a comedy skit. I hadn't even known about it. It soured my mood, hearing all of that swearing and mockery of a social networking site that has done more in five years to help balloon the spanking party scene than all the years of Yahoo groups and e-lists combined. I felt that, in some small way, they were biting the hand that was feeding them. It really put me off this group a bit. It was all too glitzy and trite. I wanted to play, but all five of the men I asked in the ballroom turned me down. I don't mean to brag or toot my own horn, but at Crimson Moon, this is unheard of. I'd never, in ten years of attending parties, ever been shot down on five successive occasions. I wanted to go back to the room and cry, but I didn't want to go in the elevator alone. It was still too early for the suite parties. I asked one of the men whom I list as a play partner on my Fetlife profile and even he turned me down. Of course, a little later, when his plan to play with someone else fell through, he did come to me and ask me if I was still interested. If I hadn't wanted to play so badly, I might have said "You had your chance!" but I didn't. I went off to his room to play. He gave me a great session, despite the fact that he'd been drinking and sometimes rambled. It was my first time playing since the Uniformed Top Event that morning. At CM, I would have considered the day wasted if I went eight hours without playing. But out here, they do things differently. No one really plays until the suite parties open at midnight. When we got upstairs, I mingled a bit. Earlier that afternoon, there had been a "Meet the Brits" event in one of the suites and we went up. It was here that I got my second caning from Richard Windsor. He caned me a bit harder this time, but still not as hard as I like it. I guess he canes hard enough. He certainly enjoys having an audience, as do I.

He gave me some pretty nice cane marks, which didn't last so I was happy we got a photo of them before they faded. Later, at one of the suite parties, I got to play with JC, a top from Indiana who was attending his first party. My ribs were screaming grand opera for some reason, so he placed a pillow on his lap for me.

There are a couple of reasons I'm unhappy with this photo. First of all, it's blurry. It looks like someone took it with their phone, when it was in fact, taken with my Canon PowerShot, which takes great photos usually. Secondly, I look enormous. But to his credit, when I posted it on Fetlife, JC loved it. Unfortunately, because my ribs were so sore, I couldn't stay over his lap for very long. So I was soon over the bed, much more comfortable but loathe to give up my cherished OTK position.

He used his left hand to hold the small of my back, which I love and Latte held my hands. JC had purchased a London Tanner Nanny Paddle at the vendor's fair the day before and was wasting no time getting it broken in. He noted that I had some pretty extensive bruising, but it was on my thighs so he wasn't too concerned about having to avoid places. He gave me a very nice session, which soon had me sore and kicking.

It's a good thing for Josh that he's not standing any closer. I would have hated to take out his ball sac at his first party. I was hoping this would lead him to ask me to play, but he never did. Since he lives on the east coast, I sincerely doubt he'll make it to Crimson Moon anytime soon. So my chance to have a real session with him will probably never materialize. Oh well, as we say in baseball "You win some, you lose some, some get rained out." I finally did get a "real" session with Joe that night. I guess Sherri met him in the elevator and told him about the five guys who had turned me down. I didn't want or need anyone's sympathy, especially not Joe's. But he did tell me he wanted to play. I can't exactly remember how it came about, but I'm sure glad it did.

He used a nice assortment of toys on me. I was pretty sure this was going to be my last session of the party, so I told him to let me have it. Joe isn't what I would term a "bruiser". He can and will kick it up a notch if that's what you want, but I think he's happiest giving the bottom he's playing with a variety of sensations with some humor mixed in. I think he knows that I'm somewhat socially awkward when I'm out of my comfort zone and he told me more than once how proud he was of me coming all the way to Atlantic City. I think he also realized that I had been treated like the retarded cousin at a family reunion and I think he felt like he had to make it up to me somehow. I couldn't understand why I had been turned down so many times. It never happened at CM. I consider myself friendly and fun to play with. I've certainly never heard any complaints, at least not directly. Normally, if a guy turns down my invitation to play, I just consider it his loss and move on. But five in a row is a lot to move on from. I tried to figure out what had caused it. Was it my breath? Was I not dressed right? I know I don't dress fancy for these parties, but I do try to wrap the package as best I can. High heels and tight dresses just aren't me. Anyone would have seen right through that and seen it for what it was---an attempt to "fit in" with the cool kids. I tried not to let the rejections spoil my head space, but I think it did to some degree.

While I enjoyed most of my time in Atlantic City (I had one of the best pizzas I've ever eaten at a Mom and Pop joint near the hotel) I came away from the experience more convinced than ever that I just don't belong at those big, fancy parties. Some of the people at the "Hooray For Hollywood" dinner wore formal attire and here I was in jeans. Maybe that's another reason why I was turned down and why I got treated like the retarded cousin at a family reunion--- maybe people got the impression that I didn't know how these things are done. I always thought our scene celebrated the individual; the person who doesn't cave in to peer pressure to be something they're not. I wonder if I would have still been turned down had I been in a gown. Ugh...the thought of me in a gown is a visual I did not need. One of the men who turned me down was someone I'd known and adored in videos for more than 20 years. I had dreamed countless times of being over his knee. But when he rejected me, the realization hit me that I would probably never get another chance to play with him. I was told how shy this man is, but I saw him talking and laughing with plenty of other women. He didn't look shy to me. Also being rejected by a man who wrote me and asked me to list him as a play partner hurt really bad. Only when his other plans failed to pan out did he come and ask me if I still wanted to play. Another one who turned me down was a guy who messaged me repeatedly to get my assurance that we were going to play. I even purchased and wore a special item of apparel that I knew he liked for the occasion and he still turned me down. I was also turned down by the man I purchased my one-of-a-kind strap from. I guess I was good enough for him to take my money, but not good enough to play with. I saw photos all over Fetlife of this guy playing with other women so I knew he was playing. I understand that people have the right to say "no" and I should accept it gracefully. But don't spend two months telling me what you're going to do to my ass and then turn me down when it gets to zero hour. Man up, for God's sake. Tell the truth. I would much rather hear "I will be happy to meet you but playing is out of the question" than a long message describing the wonderful scene you have planned, but then when you see me in the flesh, you have other plans. I came 1500 miles and went basically flat busted broke on gas and the cost of hotels so I could play with people I would never get another chance to play with. And yes, I know that paying a party fee and showing up doesn't guarantee anything. No one owed me anything just for showing up. However, three of the five men who rejected me had also written me asking to play and telling me how much fun I would have with them. So I don't think that my expectations were too high.

Anyway, before this turns into a rant, I just want to say that I did have a nice time in Atlantic City. Do I want to come back? Only time will tell on that one.

Thursday, May 2, 2013

Boardwalk Badness Weekend Party Review-- Part V

I said in one of my entries last week that my party fee was paid for my Joe (DrLectr). If it hadn't been for him, I wouldn't have been able to attend. The funds just weren't there. It was expensive enough between gas, food and lodging. Joe first discussed attending BBW with me back at the October Crimson Moon party. At first, I declined. It was too far away and there was no way I was flying. But Joe worked on me and also worked on Sherri, who said it wouldn't be that difficult to drive there. It was six months in the future, so I put off making a decision. But soon, I began to see all the fun people who would be attending and I said "I don't want to miss this!" So around Christmas time, I messaged Joe and let him know that I was going to go ahead and take him up on his generous offer. When I saw him, I thanked him profusely. In fact, I think he got a little embarrassed by it.

At any rate, that Friday night, at the midnight suite parties, I literally bumped into him. He lost no time in getting me over his knee (after first placing a pillow on his lap in deference to my broken ribs).

I have said more than once that I love it when a top smiles and shows he's capable of enjoying himself. I know better than anyone that I'm not cute or adorable. I'm also not young or thin. I've seen the kind of women that Joe attracts. I adore Joe and love playing with him. But I'm not his ideal and I know it. But here's the thing about Joe. He's not the kind of top who would play with a girl just because he feels sorry for her or because he thinks no one else will. Joe earned his reputation by being a nice guy. I know a few people who don't care for him, but few of them are bottoms. Joe spanks great, not particularly hard, but hard enough. Now that I've lost some weight, I feel a lot better about being over a normal-sized guy's knee while he's sitting on a chair. I always used to worry that I would crush someone if I did this with anyone but Big Jim. But Joe got me comfortably over his knee and the fun began. Oddly enough, he never took my jeans down, but opted to spank me over them. I'm not sure why, but I wasn't going to complain after he'd been so kind to me.

Joe has an alter-ego called Malibu Joe. I don't know who started this or where it came from, but in the middle of spanking me, Malibu Joe made an appearance.

The white panama hat (or is that a fedora?) is all it takes to change him into Malibu Joe. I guess sometimes it takes a little bit of booze works, too. But the smile is unmistakable. Joe obviously loves spanking women, no matter their age or weight. Of course, like most of us, I'm sure he has his preferences. He's never said "no" when I've asked him to play. Joe is a firefighter and I'm sure he's plenty strong enough to hold me if he had to. This spanking was relatively brief and I thought I knew why. Earlier in the afternoon, Joe's girlfriend, Ten, gave me the news that long-time Crimson Moon member Big Jim had died. The last time I saw Jim, back in October, we'd had a good talk. We both laughed and cried. We said some things that needed to be said. He spanked me and we cuddled a bit. In the middle of that, he said something that shocked me. "Let's go away and get married." I was so taken aback, I thought he was joking. But he was serious. He went on to say that I knew how he felt about me. He'd been in love with me since the first time he'd laid eyes on me back in March, 2003. But I turned him down. His mother, who was suffering from Alzheimer's, needed him. He had long voiced his dissatisfaction with certain aspects of his life. Now it was too late to do anything. When Ten gave me the news of his death, I met the news with uncontrollable tears. I sobbed almost as hard as I had when Carol had died in my arms. I think Ten must have spoken to him about my reaction. I was embarrassed by how much I cried. I think I may have underestimated what Jim meant to me. I had been worried when people were messaging me asking if I'd heard anything from him. His phone had been turned off. This number was the only one I'd ever had for him. I had no idea he had died. The news hit me like a punch. I couldn't have been more shocked if someone had told me they had seen Carol out walking around in Atlantic City. Joe didn't want Jim's death to overshadow the party for me. He wanted me to have fun and so he kept the mood light. I can't say with words how much I appreciated that.

A little later, one of my favorite tops, a man I list as a play partner on my Fetlife profile, found me and wanted to strap me since I was already warmed up. The problem was that there was nowhere to play as both beds were being used. So we had to wait our turn. This particular top has two straps that I really love--one is the London Tanner prison strap and the other is something called the Amish belt. Both of these are awesome straps. The prison strap has more sting while the Amish belt has more thud. He later told me what I'd taken during this session (80+ with the prison strap and over 120 with the Amish belt) and I was shocked. I must have been completely zoned out because I don't remember taking that much. I vaguely remember hearing people gasping. I found out later that we'd had quite a substantial audience. When he was done, he lotioned my sore bottom.

I was pretty close to toast by this time, but the top told me he had a surprise for me. He left the room and came back leading the man that I'd wanted to meet and play with for 20 years to the bed. I was going to play with the great Ralph Marvel. But my mind was so gone that it didn't really register until later. I'm not quite sure how it happened, but I ended up over a spanking bench for the cane from him. I wish I could remember how many strokes I took. Apparently, we had an audience for that, too. As I recall, he caned me pretty soundly. I was just thrilled to get to play with him. I don't know how Larry (the top who had strapped me) arranged this meeting, but I was sure glad he did. I just wish I'd had the presence of mind to ask someone to get some pictures. After the strapping and caning, I was pretty much used up for the night. It had been a long day and I wanted nothing more, on that note, than to sink into a warm bed.

Tomorrow, I see the ocean for the first time :)