About Doms And Masters

Today on Fetlife, someone started a thread concerning BBOTK (which is spanko shorthand for bare bottom over the knee). There's really nothing unusual about that. Those kinds of threads get started all the time. And there are a couple of reasons for them. A lot of these kinds of threads are started by doms or masters who are trying to find out who actually "likes" spanking and who just tolerates it because it's part of their service to their "sir" or whatever she feels the need to call the one in charge of her. Sometimes they're started by bottoms, who think they're the only one out there who likes it (despite the fact that Fetlife has a predominant number of members who list spanking as a fetish). The reason why this thread was started is really not as important as one of the responses. The lady said she wished her master could help her with this because it's something she really enjoys. That got me to thinking. Why would someone choose to be in a relationship with someone who refuses to or can't meet their needs? I understand that a lot of doms or masters (mainly those who are sadistic) routinely withhold the very thing their sub or slave wants in order to reinforce their control over them. You would probably see this in a relationship called TPE or total power exchange, where one partner has complete control over the other. In most of the D/s relationships I've seen, the dom is more than happy to give the sub what she wants and saves the nasty stuff for punishment. I have to say that if I were a sub, I wouldn't stay in a relationship where I got continually got the opposite of what I wanted. I'm not a masochist in that way. I do love pain but I don't like to never get what I want.
I know it seems like I hate on doms and masters a lot. I don't hate them as much as I just don't understand them. Nor would I really want to. Many doms can understand the needs of a pure spanko at a play party, but would never entertain the thought of a relationship with one. This is because if I were to enter into a relationship with a dom, his need for obediance and servitude would just never get met. Sure, I like to make sure my man is happy. And I would do everything in my power to make that happen. But not at the expense of my own needs. I would hate to have my own personality overshadowed. I know plenty of ladies (and guys for that matter) who can role play a scene like that; where it's all about what the dom (or domme) wants. But they could no more live that kind of life than I could. Another master posted to a thread about spanking wishes that his was to have two naked slaves chained together at the foot of his bed. Well, good luck with that. It's been my experience that most masters were guys who, in high school, sat at home on Saturday nights watching reruns and wishing they could get to first base with a girl. Years later, they read a book or see a website about BDSM, put on a black T-shirt, buy a flogger and spend endless days in the front of a mirror repeating "I'm a master" over and over. It seems like they have to convince themselves before they can convince someone else. Of course, I know this isn't true of all doms or masters. It just sure seems that way. Most simply can't deal with a woman who has her own mind and her own opinions (although they always say they admire these traits...just not in a sub apparently). At the recent CM party, we were having dinner in the public room when a dom came over to my friend, grabbed her hair and said "Someone wants to see you...NOW!" while she had her fork to her lips. Of course, she really had no choice but to go. I said to another one of our friends that that would the day I'd put up with that. I hate having my hair grabbed anyway and someone who did it while I was eating would probably find himself missing one of his balls. The friend said, somewhat derisively, that I was "only a bottom" and that my friend was a sub. I argued that even subs ought to be allowed to eat a meal in peace. I mean, seriously, we were at a party and she wasn't even in a relationship with this guy. I guess I just don't like blowhards, whether they are dom or top. I cut my hair short for just that reason; I got tired of guys pulling even after I asked them not to. But many doms (and most masters) have an "it's all about me" attitude. Of course, they will swear on a stack of Bibles that they love their slave (or pet or whatever they choose to call her) and seeing to her happiness is all important to them. But this is bull puckey. They care about getting their needs met, no matter how outrageous they are. That's great if the sub or slave needs to be treated this way. But what about an inexperienced one who doesn't yet know what she wants? What if she falls under the spell of one of these guys and then can't figure out how to get out of the deal once she figures out this isn't her cup of tea? Most of them read a book like "The Loving Dominant" and think this fairy tale is what life will be like. They are led down the primrose path that has no bearing in reality. I was led down the same path and I'm not even a sub. I was told that all the men I would meet would be gentlemen and that I would be safe with them. There were a number of times when this wasn't true and the guys turned out to be total doms (after assuring me they could be whatever I needed them to be). I did play with one dom at the CM party and I allowed him to flog me. He said "I know this isn't your cup of tea". But he did give me a nice cool down flogging. But it still didn't whet my appetite for floggers. I knew that I wasn't allowing him to give me the kind of flogging he wanted to give me, but there was nothing else I could do. I'm determined to be true to myself. This guy has known me long enough to know that I will never be a sub. You simply cannot turn a person into a sub if the raw material isn't there. With me, it definitely isn't. Most of the people I play with are cool with me just being a bottom who loves to get spanked. A few have said they would like playing with me more if I were a sub, but they understand that this is never going to happen. So I go on in the scene, trying my best to make heads and tails out of the different personalities I encounter. I think I will never fully understand the D/s or M/s dynamic. I have a certain respect for people living their lives the way they want (within SSC) but that doesn't mean I have to do it that way.

Making A Move

At the end of this month, I'll be moving out of the town I grew up in. All of this is happening because of circumstances beyond my control. My roommate isn't going to be returning to work anytime soon due to a stroke suffered after open heart surgery. So his mother is taking him back to Arizona to live with her. When she told me this, I went into severe panic mode. I pictured myself as one of those homeless women I see: ragged, dirty and pushing all of her meager possessions in a stolen shopping cart. I don't have any family that can put me up. Plus, I'm still jobless. This is what mostly prompted the move. Luckily, a scene friend has a spare room that he's willing to rent to me. I have some savings so I'm not totally broke. The area where I will be moving to is more affluent than where I live now so the job market is probably better. I can more than likely get hired at the Lowe's there (the nice company that fired me).
However, my main fear is leaving the place where I was born and grew up. I'm excited but scared at the same time. This could be the best thing that's ever happened to me. I'm going to think positively. This move will put me closer to parties as well so that helps. The loss of my twin, my best friend leaving for Arizona and my lack of family really all sort of combined to make me realize that there's really no good reason for me to stay in Peoria. My older sister wasn't happy to hear the news. She wants me to put in my application at the hospital where she works. Yeah, I really want to spend my days cleaning up "Code Browns" and scrubbing puke off the floors. I hate hospitals and have no intention of working in one. I think it's time to make a clean breast of it. I'll be 50 in four months and, aside from getting active in the spanking scene, I've played it safe all my life. It's time for me to find out who I am and to see if I can make a life away from Peoria. Now starts the arduous task of letting people know I'm moving, filling out change of address forms, informing the phone company and the electric company and all the other unpleasantness associated with moving. The last time I moved was about four years ago when Cigi and I decided to put our house on the market and move into an apartment. We had decided it was time to move. And I had her to help me. She was always way more practical and knowledgeable about things than I was. I'm sure I depended on her too much and that's why, when she died, I felt so totally lost. I mean I do have help, but this time, instead of moving across town, I'm moving upstate. I know the city fairly well, having attended a number of parties there. In fact, it looks a little bit like Peoria. Well, it looks like the nicer part of Peoria. I have quite a few scene friends there, too. I'm not too sure who I can count on at this juncture, but I think this is going to turn out well. I just need to get past the butterflies and be confident. Yeah, wish me luck on that one.

Crimson Moon Spanking Party Review--Day Three: Good Wood

I awoke on Saturday morning feeling somewhat sore from the day before. Because of this, I was worried about my tolerance. Of course, I started worrying about my tolerance as soon as I knew I was going to this party. I didn't think I played that hard and so I was perplexed about how sore I was. Nass was already up, having fallen back to sleep on the couch with a book still in her hand. I woke her gently and asked her if she wanted to go get some breakfast. She did. We threw on clothes and went downstairs, looking like something the cat drug in. I felt really grungy. My hair wasn't combed, my clothes were wrinkled, and I had bags under my eyes. I must have looked horrendous. But, as usual in the morning, I was starving. This hotel's breakfast isn't very good to be honest. They offer cold cereal, different breads and bagels for toasting, yogurt, muffins and not much else. If you want eggs or something hot, you have to pay for it. They should call if a "continental" breakfast. Anyway, I got myself a bowl of Frosted Flakes, a glass of tomato juice and a bagel and sat down to eat. We saw some of our cohorts from the night before, but most seemed to be still in bed or had already eaten and were out and about. The vendor's fair was going to start at noon and I wanted to get down to the party suite and get my stuff set up. Granted, I didn't have very much to sell. But I also didn't want to be stuck with nowhere to show my stuff. MrZia had trusted me to sell these things for him and I had accepted. So I ate quickly and decided to go up to our room and get my party clothes and get things set up. I decided to wear a pair of pink stone earrings and they turned out to be problematic. I managed to lose one, not once but twice, in two different rooms while playing.So while I can truthfully say I didn't do much bratting that weekend, my earring couldn't say the same thing. It was constantly falling out of my ear at the worst times. I didn't think I moved around that much when I played, but apparently either I do move more than I thought or there were other forces at work.

When I got down to the party room, I let one of the board members know that I needed a table to show my stuff and he happily pointed me to a table that wasn't being used. I ended up sharing the table with two other people. One was a delightful lady who had floggers, wrist restraints (which doubled as bracelets), and hand paddles for sale. She used one of those hand paddles on my bottom and it was wonderful. MrZia used to make them but found them awkward and stopped. I'm going to have to convince him to start making them again. The other person was a guy I've known for many years who had pictures of Bettie Page for sale. They were from the original negatives and came in packets of 10 for $10. They were all nice photos, some of them very well known. One of the ladies at the party came and sat with me to keep me company. I only had about 7 or 8 paddles for sale and most of them sold out in the first fifteen minutes. The curly maples and the curly purple heartwood went first. I had one mesquite and three African pearwoods also and those sold, too. Plus the thick stack of business cards he'd given me disappeared, too. All in all, I think people were very impressed with the paddles. And I actually got to feel some of them in the hands of a very capable top, Suburban Spanker.

MrZia messaged me later and told me he was happy my behind had gotten such a thorough going-over with the maple spoon paddle and he was happy to see how well the shape of the paddle fit the shape of my bottom. He's thinking of making some of these spoon paddles out of other woods like mango. That should be interesting. He also told me he might do some of the hairbrush paddles in yellow wood with purple heartwood handles. I would love to see this combination. If I end up going to the October CM party, more paddles are coming with me.Now with all of my paddles sold, I decided to look around and see what everyone else was selling. A gentleman approached me, asking me "What would you like me to beat you with?" I didn't quite understand what he was saying at first. Then it dawned on me that I had put my message for Suburban Spanker in this guy's message slot. I didn't realize until later, when I looked, that Suburban Spanker's slot had been labeled with his nickname, McScoldy. I didn't want to disappoint this guy and I did agree to play with him. But I let him know that the message had been intended for someone else. He asked me if I wanted to back out of playing with him. Well, of course I didn't want to back out of playing with him. He ushered me over to one of the spanking benches and I got comfortable. He worked me over with an assortment of different implements, mostly straps. It was a lot of fun and I certainly did feel I'd gotten beaten to my satisfaction. I'm going to have to make a note to play with this guy again. He had a very good technique. The vendor's fair ended at 3 o'clock but people sort of hung around until about 4 o'clock. Then they began to start kicking us out so they could start getting the food ready. I decided to head back upstairs to either my room or Morgan's if the door was open. Turns out, the door was open and Suburban Spanker was apparently looking around for someone to play with. I was a little sore, but I wanted to play with him. Who am I kidding? I always want to play with him. I was admiring a cane that Morgan had (which was a wangee cane from Canes4Pain). I'd long wanted one of these canes but I was afraid to buy one because I was afraid it would be too severe even for me. As with the previous day, Morgan advised me to "see his arm". Well, Suburban was happy to demo the cane, and a few other things, on me. This was a public scene and, as a spirited discussion was going on, I thought I would chime in, which made Suburban tell me to hush. Normally, I don't get into being told to be quiet, but it occurred to me that my conversation was distracting him. It had nothing to do with him being mad at me for talking while he was spanking me nor was it an attempt to control me. He caned and strapped me for awhile, until I was feeling nice and floaty. He's never said no to me when I've wanted to play with him. I'm sure there are women he won't play with. We all have people who are on our "no" list. I'm just incredibly happy that I'm not on his. I would never want to do anything to make him add me. After my strapping and caning was over, I was sitting with someone I knew pretty well (I'd purchased things from him at vendor's fairs past) and he happened to be holding a single tail. I mentioned I was afraid of them and really didn't want to try it. It was too BDSM for me. Suburban heard this and invited me to do a small scene with him. It's not like he tried to coerce me nor was he trying to convince me to change my mind. Since I can never say "no" to him, I tugged on my courage and went over to the bed. My knees were shaking and I admitted to him that I was petrified. He asked me if my fear was general or specific. All I knew of whips was watching the drovers at y uncle's cattle ranch in Texas. They used whips that sounded like rifle shots when they were cracked. He stacked all four of the pillows on top of each other and had me lie over them so that my butt was way up in the air. Then he put another pillow across the backs of my legs and said that, because he lacked practice, he was going to do this over my pants. I was wearing leggings, not heavy denim. He started light, like you do with canes until you get your stroke down. It actually reminded me of being birched. The popper on the end of the single tail felt like bees stinging me (just like the birch). As he upped the intensity, the single tail began to make the more recognizable sounds. I'm pretty sure he checked in with me but my head was gone so I can't be real sure. I was very surprised at this. I thought I required heavy play to reach that "zone" that I sometimes go to. When he was finished, I was so out of it, that he thought it would be a good idea for me to lie down and come back to my senses. I did get up and look to see if I had any marks. I did have some but they faded before I could get a photo of them. I thanked him for the wonderful scene and for getting me past my fear of single tails. I told him I don't think it's something I will want all the time, but that it might be a fun thing to add occasionally. By the time I got my bearings back, it was time for supper. The food was OK, nothing special, but I was hungry as I had had nothing since breakfast. This happens a lot at parties. I just lose track of time and forget to stop and eat. I knew we were having court that night and I had been told I had a charge against me. I tried to think back to what I could possibly have done, but couldn't think of anything. I figured it was probably a made up charge. That happens a lot. So I ate and watched the Roleplay Demo, which was interesting but not really my thing. When court rolled around, I waited and waited for my charge to be read, but it never was. The Judge threw out any charges he couldn't read, so I have a feeling that my charge was one of them because nothing happened. The man who wrote up the charge told me later that it seemed to him that only the "favorites" were getting called up. Most of the young, cute and desirable bottoms had multiple charges brought against them. Now I harbor no illusions about myself. I'm neither young nor cute nor desirable. But it sort of frosted my cookies that all of these old men were running around after these young video stars. So I looked up one of my favorite tops and asked him if he wanted to play. Sure, he did. He's another one who's never said "no" to me when I've asked him. We had an adventure on the elevator going up to my room. The elevator was pretty full and as it came to a stop on the sixth floor, it bumped really hard. I sort of screamed. I hate elevators and, for many years, I did the stairs rather than go in one. But I've come to the realization over the years that I'm just not able to do six flights of stairs anymore. I was still shaking from the elevator adventure when we got to my room. This top lives close by and doesn't get a room at the hotel so he always has to either go to the lady's room or play publicly. He put his bag on the bed and took out his laptop. "Do you like mood music?" Well, not really but if you want it, go for it. It was some kind of New Age/House Music stuff. He didn't have it too loud our anything. He laid out his toys and I laid down on the bed. He's had the same toys for years so there was nothing new in his bag. We had a fairly hard session, not anything I couldn't handle. But I have certainly played harder with this particular top. The scene was great for me because I know I can just lie there and trust him not to do anything I don't like or go harder than I want to. I was incredibly sore when we finished so he rubbed some arnica on my bottom. I know a few tops (doms mostly) who won't do this. They took all the time and energy to inflict the pain (pain they argue that the bottom wanted) why on earth would they want to soothe it then? But this guy likes to give aftercare and i was really sore so I needed it. When we went back to the elevator to go back downstairs, he asked me if I was going to scream in his ear again. I told him as long as the elevator behaved his ear would be fine this time. When we got back down to the public room, my blogging buddy, Dr. Ken was there. I wanted to play with him very badly but knew I was done for awhile. So I tried to keep him in my sights until I was ready to ask him. In the meantime, I got asked several times to play, but had to pass because I was toast. It was Saturday, after all, and the gloves were off. After about 45 minutes, I asked Ken to play and, of course, he said yes. I always try to play with Ken before I'm really sore but that didn't happen this time. But I wanted to play. We went up to his room and the elevator actually behaved this time. So Ken didn't get his ear screamed in. When we got to his room, I immediately got bare bottom over his knee. At least, I think I did. I can't remember if he pulled my panties down or not. He probably remembers though. He had to see that I was still sore so he started lightly. Although Ken is a hand spanker, he had a few toys, including his famous hairbrush, sitting on the night stand next to the bed. I made the mistake of handing him the hairbrush. I'm not quite sure how this happened. But I got some good whacks with that brush just because I was so curious. Ken isn't what I would call a "bruiser" by any stretch but he does know how to bring it when the situation warrants it. Apparently, this time, it did. But it wasn't done maliciously or to get a reaction out of me (although I did react...it was a hairbrush after all). One thing Ken really appreciates is a lady who likes to get spanked. And I think his favorite ladies to play with are ones who sort of convey that sense of playfulness. I couldn't play with someone who was so serious all the time and who lacked a sense of humor. So Ken is awesome to play with. He kind of reminds me of Tony Elka. He has the same kind of sense of humor. When we finished, instead of me going back downstairs, I ventured over to Morgan's room to see what was shaking. I wanted a caning from my friend, Sarahnade's "daddy". He had some nice cane photos on his Fetlife profile so I had to find out what he could do. Since we were in my room, we used my canes. Sarahnade warned him which ear was my deaf one because he doesn't talk very loud. He left some lovely marks on my bottom and then proceeded to play tic tac toe on Nass's bottom.

I think that takes real creativity and, of course, a cold bottom. A warmed up bottom just isn't going to leave those lovely marks that this kind of scene requires. I'm not sure how this happened, but I knew I had to get a pic of it. Nass really enjoyed it. But, sadly, it was time to call it a night. I absolutely hate the last night of a party. I'm so sad knowing that I will be leaving all of my friends until next time.

We got on the road at about 8:30 the next morning and I was home by 11:30. Back in my lonely apartment, suffering post party drop, I was miserable. Now I have the next party to look forward to.

Crimson Moon Spanking Party Review--Part Two: Dressed Alike

Day Two of the Crimson Moon summer party dawned clear, bright and warmer than the previous day. And Nass and I almost slept through half of it. Because of a shift change at her job, Nass had been experiencing trouble with her sleep cycle. So the night before, when she retired for the night, she took a sleeping pill. I woke up at about 8 am to see if she wanted to go down to the lobby and avail ourselves of the free breakfast. But she was sleeping so soundly that I didn't have the heart to wake her. Then I got sleepy again myself and went back to bed. Before I knew it, it was 11 am and I realized we had missed breakfast. I think this hotel stops serving it at 10 am or so. Nass and I quickly decided to go somewhere and get something to eat. Surely, there was a fast food place nearby where we could grab a burger before the lunch rush. Not my favorite kind of breakfast, but all we could get considering the hour. While we were walking through the lobby on our way to Nass's car, we ran into our friend, Jolyn. She's a very dear lady and she and I have a lot in common. She lost her husband to cancer in December and I lost my sister in May. So we knew what the other was going through. She had told me that she would drive Cigi and I to Valorie's party just the day before the party was due to start. It was very generous of her and I'll never forget her kindness. Anyway, Nass asked Jolyn to join us and she eagerly accepted. When we got in the car and were trying to decide where to go, she said she knew where there was a Denny's close by. That sounded good to me (actually, anything would have sounded good to me at that point because I was famished). So we drove a short way to Denny's for some food. I still was undecided on whether or not I was going to get breakfast or a sandwich. But when we got inside and I saw all the people with these marvelous omelets on their plates, my mind was made up. We had great food and great conversation. I felt a little bit left out when Nass and Jolyn began to talk about their children since I'm childless. But otherwise, we had a great time. Now that my stomach was full, I was feeling a bit tired. This, despite all the sleep I'd already gotten. Let me say right here that I have never slept this late at a spanking party. I've always been too afraid I would miss something.

When we got back to the hotel, Nass asked me if I wanted to go to the Ikea store with her and a friend, but after first saying yes, I changed my mind. I didn't want to spend two hours walking around that enormous store and having nothing to show for it because everything was too expensive for me. After Nass left, I kept the door barred open in case anyone wanted to visit. Morgan, the unofficial MC of CM had his room next door and a lot of times my room took the overflow. It never fails really. No matter what party it is, Morgan is either right next door or across the hall from me. Not that I mind. Morgan's room is always a nice escape from the public suite for me. I don't hear very well and many times, when the room is packed full and everyone is talking at once, I miss most of what people say. Morgan's room, being smaller, is better for me. He has great food and drink there and, of course, his toy stand, featuring every leather toy that Ian, the London Tanner, has ever made. A scene using a variety of these implements is referred to as a "Tour Of London."

I have about half of these toys myself and love them all. Depending on who's conducting the tour, it can be a bruising experience, as one first timer discovered (to her delight!). However, Morgan himself doesn't play at these parties. He prefers to see to the hospitality and comfort of his "guests". There is one top whom he refers to as his "arm", that Morgan sends ladies to when they actually as him to play. I found this out firsthand. I had always wondered why Morgan never asked me to play after all the parties we've attended. So I worked up my courage and asked him. He pointed to this top and said "See my arm." Now don't get me wrong. This particular top is probably my favorite. I adore playing with him. But he's becoming extremely popular was kept very busy at this party. If I can't get enough of being spanked, this guy can't get enough of spanking willing ladies. He goes by Suburban Spanker on Fetlife but his brattier acquaintances know him by his nickname: McScoldy. I've been seeing and playing with him at parties for a few years now and he's truly coming into his own. He's building a very good reputation at the parties. His nickname led to a case of mistaken identity on my part which I will relate in part three.

When Nass returned from her shopping trip, she had a bottle of Mudslides, which she offered to me. Now I hadn't had alcohol in over six years and was somewhat leery. Nass assured me you could barely taste the booze in it. I filed this under "life's too short!" and allowed Nass to pour me a glass. As soon as I took a swig, my eyes began to water. Clearly, my days of drinking alcohol were over. A little while later, her shopping companion came in and they sat an drank sangria. I wish I could just sit and social drink--enjoy a glass of wine with dinner or something. But I obviously can no longer handle alcohol. The lady who was visiting us is not in the scene. She's the caregiver of the man who paid for our rooms. But she enjoys the parties a lot and thinks we're all really cool because we have an interest in something and we live it out. But she's non-judgmental about what we do. So many vanilla people turn up their noses at us and call us sick and perverted. But she's cool with it. When she left, Nass and I thought it was time to get ready. She showered first. I was impressed with how fast she got in and got out. Then it was my turn. I had thought ahead of time, while I was packing, what I would wear on what particular night. That way, I would spend less time thinking about what to wear. It turned out that my decision was an auspicious one. When we were ready and arrived in the party suite for supper, my friend, Sarahnade, was there. She walked over to me and hugged me and at first I didn't notice that she had on the same shirt as I did. But once it did, I heard all the people in the room laughing and clapping. I had a hard time convincing some people that this had been a total coincidence. The photo of the two of us is at the top of the this entry. I just had to get a picture of it. Anyway, I doubt it will happen again. But being a twin, it just appealed to me nostalgically. Cigi and I dressed alike until we were in about seventh grade. I ate pretty quickly and looked around the room for someone to play with. Luckily, I found McScoldy and asked him if he wanted to play. I was anxious to really see how my tolerance would be and I knew he was someone who could test me. So off we went to his room. He wasted no time in getting me over his knee. I hardly ever get a hand spanking from him, but this time, he gave me a very nice warm up. He has a very heavy hand; just the kind I like. He spanked me and strapped me over my panties. It's been my experience with him that he's not really an "on the bare" kind of guy. At least not all the time. He got me over the bed and asked me if he'd ever taken his belt to me and I had to think. I was pretty sure I had never felt his belt so he whipped it off and told me it was about time. I laughingly told him when he got to my dad's level, I would let him know. My dad was a Marine (as I've mentioned more than once here) and he liked obedience. To ensure he got it, he had the belt from his Marine uniform, which I hated. When I first started in the scene, I just couldn't do belts. It brought back too many unpleasant memories of my meetings with Dad's belt. I discovered that McScoldy is just about as proficient with a belt as my dad was. But, unlike whippings from my dad, I had no negative feelings with him. Endorphins were washing over me. I knew he was really letting me have it, but it didn't really hurt that bad. At least, not in a bad way. When we finished, he rubbed some baby oil on my sore bottom and we sat and talked for a bit. Then I headed back to Morgan's room, knowing that it would probably be an hour before I could play again. I saw Sarahnade in there and that was where the picture was taken. Sarahnade is kind of special to me. She's a fellow Christian and someone I met (and rescued) at her first party. Unfortunately, I never get to spend enough time with her. This time, I got to spend more than I have with her previously. I had a couple of people ask me to play during this time, but I had to pass because I was beginning to get some feeling back in my bottom and it was really sore. I really do hate having to tell someone who wants to play with me that I can't. Even if I'm resting, I would much rather be playing. But I've learned over the years to pace myself better. The urge to play is pretty strong, even when I'm sore. But I had to resist the urge to run off with whoever asked me.

As soon as I was recovered, I looked for my buddy, Michigan Headmaster, and told him I wanted a hard spanking. He was happy to oblige me. We went to his room, which he was sharing with his "little girl". There's a huge difference in their ages, but they seem to be good together so I guess that's all that counts. This guy is someone I got off on the wrong foot with two years ago. But I guess he's grown more than almost anyone I've seen at parties, except for maybe Suburban Spanker. Anyway, first he spanked me with his hard hand. I love hand spanking and don't seem to get enough of it. Since this guy used to be a cop, he has a very authoritative air about him, but not bossy. He just had a commanding confidence that I really liked. Some of his toys were incredibly nasty but, of course, those were the ones I loved best. We talked and laughed and had one of the best scenes of the weekend for me. He's into a lot of things I'm not into, but as long as he enjoys spanking a willing bottom, he will always have a taker in me. Of course, once this scene ended, I was out of commission for another hour. And it was getting late. I thought for just a few minutes about making this my last of the night, but decided not to. I wanted to play at least once more. Yes, I was sore. But that's part of the allure. I love to play when my bottom is sore. I already knew I'd be sleeping on my stomach anyway. What could one more scene hurt? So I went back down to the party suite and looked around. One thing we had new at this party was a message board. Everyone who registered for the party had a little slot where people could leave messages for other party goers. I wrote a note letting Michigan Headmaster know how much I enjoyed my scene with him. Then I saw another slot and grabbed a piece of paper on which I wrote "Please BEAT me!" along with my name. Little did I know that I put that paper in the wrong slot and that the next day I would realize this. I never did find anyone else to play with so I watched some public scenes. There were a couple of spanking benches available and people were using them. I found them very comfortable. So after watching some more play I decided I was tired enough to hit the sack. I knew the next day was going to be the last and I planned to make the most of it. But I had to save some bottom for it. I went back to my room and turned on the TV. It was the trade deadline in Major League Baseball and I was interested in seeing who had been traded and acquired. To my consternation, the Cardinals traded one of my favorite players. I went off to sleep trying not to think too much about this. I wanted to be rested for Day Three.

Crimson Moon Spanking Party Review--Part One: Getting There

The party actually started a little early for me. I told you in my previous post that my friend, Nass, was coming from Wisconsin to spend the night with me. I spent the earlier part of the day getting the apartment cleaned up and doing my laundry, which I didn't particularly want to come home to. I also colored my hair. I had done it just a few weeks earlier, but I tried a different color and wasn't thrilled with it. So I made the decision to change it back to my usual color. I was very pleased with the result but I think I should've gotten a haircut. I have a pixie cut and when the hair begins to grow over my ears, it starts to bother me. But I opted not to get it cut. It still looked good.

Once I had everything ready, it was starting to get close to the time Nass had told me she would be there so I called her to get a progress report. She told me she was about an hour out so I spent some time watching TV and also watching as some ominous storm clouds moved in. I was worried about Nass because there looked to be a line of storms. She told me later that the bad weather had followed her the whole way here. There's a saying among us Midwesterners: "If you don't like the weather, wait ten minutes". But that wasn't going to be the case today. She called me when she was about a half hour late and asked me for directions since her GPS had just died. Oh, that poor girl. She had no idea that I'm terrible with directions. I managed to get her royally lost and then, to make matters even worse, her cellphone died so she couldn't call me to let me know she was lost.

Lucky thing for me my neighbor across the hall is somewhat of a busybody. He came over and knocked on my door and told me that he thought he'd seen someone pull into the parking lot and park next to my car and just sit there. He asked me if I was expecting anyone and I told him I was expecting a friend from out of state. I didn't bother to ask her what kind of car she drove and she never asked me what my apartment number was. It was pouring rain. In fact, as I watched it begin to rain, it was so hot that I could see steam rising off the bran new asphalt of our parking lot. My neighbor had been sitting on his balcony when the rain started and had seen her pull in and park, then leave. Pretty soon, he came back and knocked again.

"I think your friend is here," he told me.

Our building manager had just had locks installed on our entry doors, but as yet, there was no buzzer system in place where she could buzz me and let me know she was here. I grabbed my key and headed down the stairs but my neighbor had already let her in. She was soaking wet and her eyes were red from crying. I got her up to my apartment and got her a towel to dry off with. She told me a harrowing story about a rude gas station attendant and how the rain had followed her. The plan was for me to take her out for Chinese food. But between the weather and the fact that she had had enough driving in our fair city, I thought a dinner at home would be better. I asked her if she liked pancakes and she said that's exactly what she had been thinking while she was trying to find my place. We were hungry so we each ate two good sized pancakes. I also showed her the DVD we'd made to show at Carol's memorial service. She enjoyed looking at all the family photos, especially the baby pictures.

Now maybe it was a coincidence and maybe it wasn't, but that day my computer keyboard decided to die. I had a Fetlife inbox full of messages and no way to answer anyone. Nass suggested a visit to Wal-Mart, as she had a list of things she wanted to buy. We both found some very cute panties and bought them. I was over packed as it was but I can never resist the lure of cute panties. I also bought a new keyboard. Te old one had been one Carol had bought the previous fall. It was cordless and really, now that I think of it, nothing but trouble. So the new one was a regular corded one. But it was spill resistant and that sold it to me. I can't name the number of keyboards I've lost because I insist on having a 32 oz. glass of soda sitting right next to it. Plus, I'm a klutz. So it happened a lot. We returned home, both of us complaining that we had spent too much money. When we got home, we tried on our new panties and critiqued them for each other. It was really a fun evening considering what she had gone through previously. I tried to make it up to her in every way I could. I got out my queen size air mattress and got it set up for her so she could stretch out. We decided to get up at 7:30 so I set the alarm. I had my usual night-before-a-party excitement which made it hard to relax and go to sleep. I was really keyed up, but tired from all the housework I'd done and the long walk around Wal-Mart had wreaked havoc on my legs. Before long, I must have drifted off. When I awoke, it was 6:30 and Nass was already up. I wasn't sure if I should get up or go back to sleep but soon opted to do the latter. I was still pretty tired. It dawned on me that I had an hour left to sleep so I took it. Of course, at 7:30 the alarm went off and I drowsily headed for the kitchen to get something to drink. Nass informed me that she had already had a shower and helped herself to a glass of iced tea. She asked if the shower had woken me up but I told her it hadn't. I don't hear very well anyway so she could have made all the noise she wanted to and it probably wouldn't have made any difference. I once slept through an earthquake.

I made her some whole wheat toast and had some myself. I was busily packing up my last minute things while she took a phone call from her son. Then we decided we needed to make another trip to Wal-Mart because we'd both forgotten things the night before. I needed to get some Mountain Dew and Nass needed to buy a new GPS. So we headed off to the store. We made quick work of our shopping. Nass went to the customer service desk to exchange a bra and the lady behind the counter, a lady I knew well, mistook Nass for my mother. I was beginning to wonder if things could get any worse. When we returned to my apartment, having to take a detour due to a broken water main that was being worked on, I popped a button off my shorts. Oh, Lord, I thought, please not now. Nass decided to stay down in her car and do her nails while I headed upstairs to sew my pants. Not only did I pop the button off, but I had torn the fabric, too and needed to sew that before I could sew the button back on. I said in my previous post that you never know when someone might lose a button so I remembered that I'd wanted to pack my sewing kit. I was trying so hard to get done quickly that I forgot to pack it. I would later regret this because a friend of mine would need something sewn later in the party and I wouldn't be able to help her.

Finally, it was time to get on the road. Nass had opened the new GPS she'd purchased and programmed our destination into it. We had beautiful weather for the drive up. We drove without stopping and reached the hotel at about 2:30. We met some friends for lunch at a restaurant next to the hotel. It was cool and breezy and I couldn't help thinking how much hotter it had been in Peoria. The party at the restaurant included our good friend, Pris and her boyfriend, Bill. Bill had paid for the room Nass and I would be occupying for the weekend. Bill is a very generous person and I made a point of telling him more than once how much I appreciated his generosity. When we got done eating, we got settled in our room, then went next door to talk to Bill and Pris and another friend, John, who had driven (yes, driven!) from Maryland for the party. We actually got some play in and then I decided I had better get a shower. I'd been in a car all day and I smelled like it. I've mentioned before in other entries that I'm somewhat obsessed with making sure I smell good and that I look as good as I can when I'm at a party. I actually soaked for a bit, letting the hot water soak the ache from my knees and hips. My feet were pruning up so I figured it was time to get out. For some reason, the rooms are always freezing cold when we first check in. I had a robe with me so I grabbed it and wrapped it around me. I chose my clothes, panties and sandals, having already determined what I was going to wear each night.

The first gentleman I played with was someone I have known for many years. I messaged him and asked him if he would do a scene with me on Thursday night. I was sort of precise about what I wanted and he was more than happy to oblige me. I enjoyed the scene very much, although not a lot of spanking was involved. I didn't really need to wait too long for my next scene. It was with a switch I have known since my first party. He and talked quite a bit first since this was my first party since Carol passed and he wanted to make sure my head space was good before we got started. I'm glad for that. He spanked me by hand, as is his custom and we had a great time. But I was getting hungry and it was about time for dinner to be ready. I had spaghetti with homemade meat sauce and it was wonderful. They also provided bread and butter and salad with it. I ate my fill while spending some time talking to my table companions, one of whom was a new lady who had messaged me with first-party questions. I'd had to wait until I replaced my keyboard to answer her. She seemed to fit right in and we had a nice conversation.

Believe it or not, I only played three times that first night. The last one was a public scene with my buddy from Texas, Tubaman. He had emailed me before the party and offered to give me a shoulder if I ever felt overwhelmed with Carol's absence from the party. I climbed up on the spanking bench and he went to work on my bottom with an assortment of straps and paddles. I forgot how hard he could spank. It was a wonderful scene with him but I was about ready to call it a night.

My biggest surprise of the party was appearance of my friend, Queenie, who three weeks earlier, had lost her husband to cancer. She and I had some very tearful hugs during that party. She had told me she was going to start attending functions again and told me she might make CM in October, all the while she knew she was coming to this party. She had sworn the group leaders to secrecy so I was completely shocked to see her there. I hadn't seen her at a party in over two years due to medical problems she was experiencing. But it did my heart good to see her and also to see her playing with gusto. I think it was just what the doctor ordered.

I went back to my room and took my make up off. I'd had to borrow a jar of Pond's cold cream from Pris because I had forgotten to pack mine. It happens every time--I always forget something. As I was going next door to return it, I saw my new friend, Zelle, coming up the hall. Even though it was one o'clock in the morning, she looked fabulous. I looked like something the cat had dragged in. Now I wish I had waited to take my make up off. I had the paddles that MrZia had sent up from Arizona and she was anxious to have them. I took her into my room and removed them, still wrapped in paper, from my toy bag. Oh, they were gorgeous. We talked a bit about the paddles and she paid for them. Her "Doublemint Twin" was with her and we chatted a bit about how they were enjoying the party. But I think they both sensed that I was fading fast and excused themselves. I drifted off to sleep knowing the party would be in full swing the next day.

A Friend Indeed

One of my best friends in the spanking scene, Nasserine, is coming down to Peoria to see me before the Crimson Moon party. Since she lives in Wisconsin and the party is in Chicago, she's coming down the day before to rest up for the drive back up North.
I've met some wonderful people since I've been in the spanking scene but a few are special. Nass is one of them. If we lived closer together, I have a feeling we would always be at each other's homes. As it is, I have some special things planned for her. I'm taking her out to dinner tomorrow night at my favorite Chinese buffet. She's a vegetarian but I'm sure she won't have any problem choosing from among the delicious meatless dishes they serve. Thursday morning, I'll make us muffins for breakfast and we can take the ones we don't polish off with us on the road and munch on them when we feel a little hungry. She's taken care of my hotel room, too, once we get there. So I feel obligated to do as many nice things for her as I can.
I'm also going to meet my Fetlife buddy, Zelle, for the first time. She has such a bubbly personality and she's so beautiful I'm sure she will be a big hit at the party. She lives in the South so she's coming a long way to attend this party. I hope it lives up to her expectations. She attended her first party in Florida last month and had such a good time that she decided to attend Crimson Moon, too. The Florida parties are fancier than ours. They have a beautiful beach side hotel; or at least, they did. I guess they aren't going to do those big summer parties anymore. Anyway, I would hate to see her disappointed because the hotel isn't 5-star. She doesn't strike me as the snobby type though. Just the opposite, in fact. I'm looking forward to meeting her and giving her the paddles I have for her from MrZia. She's really excited about that. She might be more excited about the paddles than she is the party.
Professional baseball player, Jeff Kent, once said (whether he was serious or not I don't know) that he wants to retire from the game not having made a single friend. I can't imagine being in the scene without friends. First of all, having friends to share your experiences with just enriches them. And having friends to lean on when things don't go the way you planned also helps. Friends will also give it to you straight. When you're being a jerk or a ninny, your friends will tell you. I admire people who shoot straight. Sure, they'll occasionally sugar coat things or tell you what they think you want to hear, but for the most part, REAL friends will give it to you straight. Especially if it's something you may not really want to hear. Being friendless would be the loneliest existence I could think of. If you're going to lead that kind of life; where you just shrug and say 'I don't need anyone else. I have myself.', you had better be able to stand your own company. I don't particularly like my own company that much so friends are paramount to my existence.
Because my roommate (and best friend of more than 40 years) is in the hospital, I have been alone in my apartment for almost two weeks. Because of that, I'm looking forward to Nass' visit even more than I normally I would otherwise. I like peace and quiet, don't get me wrong. But it's one of those good things you can get too much of. Talking on the phone helps and chatting is nice. But they are no replacement for face to face visits from friends and family.
This will likely be my last blog until I get back from Chicago. My faithful readers will have one of my famous post party reports to read when I do get back.

Bearing Gifts...And Baring Bottoms

These are s0me of the beautiful wood paddles that are coming with me to the Crimson Moon party in Chicago this weekend. I'll identify them from left to right:

African Pearwood Narrow Bat Paddle

Curly Maple Narrow Bat Paddle

Curly Purple Heartwood Narrow Bat Paddle

New Mexico Mesquite Wide Flared Paddle

Mimbres (Native New Mexico) Walnut Hairbrush Paddle

A price list and business cards are also coming with me. And, of course, I would be more than happy to let anyone who's interested in buying test drive it on my bottom. I worked in sales long enough to know the value of doing what you have to do to make a sale. I'm getting a commission, but I would happily do without it because I believe in these paddles. I believe once you feel one in your hand (or on your bottom) you will want one. Wood fans will especially love them. The workmanship is first class, the sizes are realistic and the prices are what you would expect for this kind of quality. The prices seem really reasonable to me. I've seen paddles similarly priced that didn't have this kind of attention to detail and they certainly didn't use these native/exotic woods.

The paddles make my toy bags very heavy so I'm hoping to have all of them sold before the party is over. In fact, I'm hoping to have them all sold before Saturday's vendor's fair. Because MrZia didn't put this proposal forward to me until just last week, there wasn't time to purchase a table for the vendor's fair. It wouldn't be fair for me to sit around showing these lovely paddles off when I haven't gone through the proper channels to get a table. So I will only be showing them in my room. This is also for security reasons. I'm not saying anyone would steal them but it has happened to others so I'm being cautious here.

MrZia also tucked a special gift into the parcel that arrived this morning. It's wrapped (like the rest of the paddles were) and the instructions state that it isn't to be opened until I arrive at the party. I'm fighting the impulse to just tear off the paper and see what he sent. It just says there's one for me and one for Zelle. There are also two other paddles which she expressed an interest in buying so those are still wrapped as well.

I'm probably going to take more wood at this party than I ever have before. And that's OK because this is all for a friend; a friend who was nice enough to send me six paddles and asked nothing in return except for me to see if there was a market for his work. If craftsmanship and quality counts for anything, I expect my toy bags to be much lighter by the time the party weekend wraps up.

For those of you who are going, I will see you all Thursday, paddles in tow.