"Do You Trust Me?"

"Do you trust me?" he rasped into her ear as he pulled the blindfold down over her eyes.

Four little words. Four little words with so much meaning behind them. Tonight it meant that he was going to take her to the edge. It meant that this was going to hurt.

"Yes, Sir," she whispered.

"Good girl. Now lay down on your stomach and place your hands behind your back."

 She did as he asked, hearing the jangle of the restraints being pulled from his bag. She felt the cool metal on her wrists as he snapped them into place.

"Hmm," he said as he eyed the arsenal of implements laid out on the bed. "What to use first? Maybe we should use them all. Because you want me to punish you, don't you?"

"Yes, Sir," she replied.

He grabbed a fistful of her hair, pulling her back towards him. "Yes Sir, what?"

"Oww! Yes, Sir, I want you to punish me," she uttered timidly.

"Did that hurt you, my dear?" he laughed, releasing his hold on her. "We haven't even begun."

He selected the deerskin flogger, slowly running the strands across her naked figure. Up and down her back, bottom, and legs. All the way down to her feet. The scent and feel of the leather was already arousing her.

Whoosh, smack! Whoosh, smack! He swung it full force at her bottom, it's bark much louder than it's bite. He continued rhythmically swinging. An "Mmm" escaped from her lips.

Before she could get too comfortable, he set it aside and grabbed the wooden paddle. Craack! Craack! Craack! Craack! A flurry of hard swats struck her unprotected flesh.

"Oww! Owww!" she struggled against the restraints, instinctively wanting to cover her backside with her hands.

"Now, now," he scolded, "Don't fight it. You deserve this, don't you?"

"Yes, Sir, I deserve it," she gasped as the swats landed harder.

"Good girl. You'll take what you earned." He set aside the paddle and reached for the thick leather strap. He ran it across her reddened skin, teasing her.

"Oh please, not that!" she cried out, knowing it would make him want to use it more. She could picture the sadistic grin on his face, though she could not see him.

"Brace yourself, my dear," he growled. The strap connected full force with her bottom, over and over.

The sting was overwhelming. She squirmed helplessly, trying to avoid the blows. "Oww! Oww!" she cried out. Yet her body betrayed her, other feelings began to take over. Her back arched and her bottom pushed itself up and toward him for more, as if it were operating independently from her body.

He dropped the strap and roughly turned her over. They began a different type of dance.

All images from The Pink Papers.

Before You Hit Send

In this world of multiple forms of communication and technology at our fingertips, it's 100 times easier to make an ass out of ourselves than it used to be. Facebook, Twitter, Blogger, texting; we don't like to wait for things. This is the generation of multi-tasking to the extreme. Therein can lie the problem of message fails. You know, when you are having 4 conversations at once and send through a message in the WRONG window to an unintended recipient. Some of these situations can lead to embarrassment.

How would I know? Well, embarrassing things happen to me pretty much daily. A few have involved text fails. Once I was intending to send a message to my mother about what she wanted from Bath and Body Works. I got a perplexed reply from a top friend of mine instead. Oops. Of course, it could be much worse if it'd been reversed and some sort of spanking content went to my mother. There was another time where I did send something about an upcoming spanking trip to a coworker with a very similar name in my phonebook as the intended spanko friend. Fortunately, it wasn't too explicit to out me in any way.

I was chatting with a friend about this whole subject of text fails, updating her on an embarrassing situation that had occurred. The conversation led to us discussing picture messages. On occasion, I've sent a picture message of my bruised bottom to a spanko friend. Now THAT would be hard to talk your way out of if it went to the wrong person. We were both cracking up imagining the scenario that could lead to. I'll share here our hypothetical situation of a picture message getting into the wrong hands.

I'm at my desk at work, sending a picture of my bottom to a friend after my latest spanking. My co-worker comes out of her office and approaches me.

Coworker: "What is that picture you just sent me? Is that your butt? Why are you so bruised?"

Me: Shit! "Um, that's not me."

Coworker: "In this picture, those are the clothes you are wearing right now. And that's our office bathroom in the background!"

Me: Continue denial. "Uh, I don't know what you're talking about. That's not me. You know what it must be, um, my phone got stolen. And hacked..."

Coworker: "I can see your phone right there on your desk."

Me: Fuck. "Okay, here's the thing. I get spanked sometimes. But it's totally fine, it's all consensual."

Coworker: "What? Oh my God! You should call the police!"

Me: "Uh, one of the guys who spanks me IS the police."

Yeah, there's just no way out of that. We thought it could be made into a digital short shown at spanking parties about safety in communication. "Before You Hit Send." Lol. And then at the end, we could have Smokey the Bear pop out. "Only YOU can prevent texting fails!"

And remember, pay attention in your multi-tasking or be prepared for some possibly embarrassing moments.

Behind The Zion Curtain

Photo by marcbalbi

Psstt... Come closer. I have a secret to tell you. There are kinky people in Utah. Yes, really!! Well, many of you already knew that I live here. But there are others, too! I know, it's hard to believe. Poor Utah gets such a bad rap by only being known for bad polygamist jokes, not selling booze in grocery stores, Orrin Hatch, and the disgusting creation known as "fry sauce". (Google it if you're unaware. On second thought, ignorance is bliss.)

There is much more to Utah than bad stereotypes. Bill Cosby declared Utah the Jello state. Wait, I said other than bad stereotypes. It's illegal to kill a seagull here and I'm told there are lots of things to do if you are one of those people who goes outside and stuff. But this isn't a 5th grade state report. You can look up fun trivia on your own time. Let's get back to the aforementioned kinky people.

My journey into the world of spanking began with SCONY. I've had a lifelong interest in spanking and a few years ago, that is where Google led me to. I joined their chat room, got to know a lot of really awesome people, and later traveled (and still do) to many parties and events. And that is the short version of how a girl from Utah became involved with a New York based spanking group.

But what of the Utahns? I had never attempted to find out if there was a "scene" here for a few reasons. One being that I love the group I'm involved with and all my friends there and didn't know if I had the time for more anyway. Another reason was that I questioned if there even was a kinky scene here, because after all, it's Utah. I had my doubts. And if there was, would it be at my comfort level of spank-y people or prominently other varying interests that weren't my thing? Anonymity was also a concern and something I was super paranoid about in the beginning. Salt Lake City is no New York City of course, but it's not like I know every person in the state either. But what if I saw someone I knew? What would I do?

All of those things kept me from venturing into things locally, until recently. Distance is taxing and I finally decided to just go for it and see if anything local existed. Thanks to FetLife, one can search for local groups and events and voila, some existed! Compared to some areas, things here seem to be a bit underground. I mean that in the sense that you'd be hard-pressed to find a party location listed online and just show up and be welcomed in. There are certain steps one has to take, which is understandable because who wants to welcome some complete stranger into their home?

My first step was a munch. (Side note- I really dislike the sound of that word.) Munches are a gathering of kinky people in a vanilla setting such as a coffee shop or a Denny's or wherever else they feel like meeting. There are regularly quite a few of these happening so I picked one that was close to me. I went in, got some coffee, and almost walked right back out. <insert nervous newbie jitters here> But I didn't. I located everyone and found the people to be really nice and friendly. I even discovered some shared interests of karaoke and Peeps. Score! That led to being invited to a play party, and that led to another party, and another munch, and another party, and lots of awesome people in between.

I always try to be conscientious of other's privacy so haven't written about any of these new adventures prior to this post. Plus there's been a lot of other things going on, in case you missed the depressed-fest that was last week. Anyway, I did attend a play party this past Saturday and my friends S and M (no pun intended) said it was okay if I shared about my scene there with them, so here goes. At the spanking parties I'm most familiar with, there are many opportunities to play privately and that's how I've always played. The idea of people around and watching me, especially in various states of undress, just makes me feel very anxious and uncomfortable. I seem to be the odd man out on that.

I mention that to explain a bit about the set up of where I was. There were a lot of different spaces for different scenes but everything is fairly out in the open. You can't go into a room, close the door and have your scene privately, and then rejoin the party. That's specifically not allowed actually because they have people there that need to be able to monitor the safety of everything going on, etc. That left me with two options. 1. Don't play at all. <sad face> or 2. Attempt to find a generally unoccupied space and just play anyway. The three of us found an empty room and set out the toys. Did I mention that lack-of-self-preservation-Lea (that's me) brought all my implements from home?

After discussing what could and couldn't be used and me adamantly mentioning that I'm kind of a wuss and bruise easily, things began. I'm always clear on the bruising thing, especially when playing with someone new, because some people are quite surprised at how quickly it pops up. I bent over the metal exam table thingy that was in that room and lifted my skirt up. This was on St. Patrick's Day so that was the theme of the night. And though my Christmas themed boyshorts were for the wrong holiday, they were at least green. M started off spanking me while S, bless his heart, hung out in the open doorway so we wouldn't attract a crowd. She started with her hand but then switched to some of the implements. Aside from the distinctive feel of my nemesis, The London Tanners domestic discipline strap, I couldn't always tell what was being used and quit trying to guess.

They switched back and forth with M spanking me for a while and then S, but a few minutes into it I was kind of zoned out so didn't always know who was who and what was what. Aside from the fact that it all hurt. Lol. I could hear some chatter from outside the room from onlookers but wasn't paying that much attention to it. I'm generally fairly quiet when receiving a spanking and this night was no different. There were a few oww's and kicks of the legs with particularly hard swats though. I was taking it all in and I believe the entire toy collection, theirs and mine, was about exhausted by the end. That was a LOT of implements. My stuff alone contained the strap, leather paddle, two wooden paddles, two bathbrushes, a flogger, and I can't even remember what else.

I was a bit surprised at how much I took considering all the toys we ran through. M commented that I had a panty line of bruises. She wasn't kidding. When I had a chance to look in the mirror later, I was quite purple all over. When we were done and I stepped away from the table to readjust my skirt, I even had a bruise on my thigh from leaning into the table that whole time. Sigh. I gave them both a hug and went to assess the damage, though I could already feel how sore I was and would be for a while. Someone commented to me that I take a really good spanking which made me want to look around me and say "Who? Me??" Lol. I went to sleep that night on my stomach but with a smile.

What have we learned? 1. There are indeed kinky people in Utah, and cool ones at that. 2. You can't know until you try. 3. I still bruise like a peach. 4. Fry sauce is gross. I think that about sums it up. Have a good weekend everybody!

The Bruising Bias

People have different preferences on bruising. There are some people who love the marks left after a spanking and savor those images of a freshly spanked bottom. It can induce a sense of pride in some. There are others who like seeing a bottom turn pink but with no real heavy bruising. I've heard a lot of people express the latter. And it makes me feel bad. What about me?

I bruise easily. A very pale complexion paired with sensitive skin means I bruise very easily. I can get poked hard and later will find little finger shaped bruises on my arm. Some people grow out of it as they become accustomed to playing harder and/or more frequently, but that's not necessarily the case. It certainly hasn't been with me. I bruised from a hand spanking 3 years ago and I bruised from a hand spanking 1 week ago.

This can be a bit problematic for me in a setting such as a spanking party. I'd like to play as much as I can while I'm there and bruising can get in the way. I've actually been turned down by tops who weren't comfortable spanking me with how my bottom looked. They are entitled to their preference of course, but it can be a bit frustrating. Because for me, personally, bruising doesn't always equal being overplayed. When I'm overplayed I know it and I stop playing. But bruises just happen and sometimes it doesn't take much.

In a party setting, it can get in the way. But generally, I don't mind bruising. As long as it's confined to areas that aren't going to be noticeable to any vanilla folks. The first time I watched Secretary and saw that scene where she's looking at her spanked bottom in the mirror, I laughed and thought "I totally do that!" I still do it. I often like to look at the marks, running my hand across them. Even days later, it can be a nice little reminder of something that was enjoyable. Or sometimes a reminder of someone's displeasure over a certain behavior. Either way, I remember.

My main point here is EASILY BRUISED GIRLS NEED SPANKINGS TOO! That is all.

All images found at The Pink Papers.

When Love Is Not Enough

In the movies, relationships seem to end in a big dramatic fight. Plates being thrown, nasty words said, feelings hurt. Real life isn't quite like that. Not my real life anyway. These things don't come from nowhere. You both know, deep down, that something isn't right. Nobody is that ignorant. It isn't necessarily set off by one particular event. Honestly, I think it was a long time coming. These thoughts had been kicked around in my head for a while now but I kept it to myself. I felt guilty like maybe I wasn't trying hard enough to make things work. That divorce means failure and should absolutely be the last option. That I should just be happy with what I have. But I just couldn't hold it in any longer.

The question I kept asking myself was this- what do you do when love is not enough? When you both aren't headed in the same direction? When the substance just isn't there anymore? There was no fighting, no anger. No voices were raised. Just soft spoken carefully measured words that struggled to leave my throat. Just sadness and tears. He said he wanted to tell me I was wrong but he couldn't. We both knew. There was no blame placed. It wasn't anyone's fault. At the root of it, we just never were the right fit for each other. Too similar in the ways that clashed and too different in the ways that mattered. He said that he loved me and would miss me and he left.

I was asked if it was about the kink. That certainly had nothing to do with it. If anything, TTWD kept us going longer than we would have made it otherwise. It gave us something new to explore and grow in together. And I don't regret any of that. We didn't part with a lot of anger or resentment. I don't have to worry about my secrets being held hostage. I'm thankful to him for that, that we can be cordial. I know that is not the case for everyone. That some people have their desires exploited and used against them. It's terrible that that happens.

A lot of people in my daily life don't even know what's going on under the surface. I've gone along my everyday and done what I always do. I seem fine to an outsider. But now when I go home at the end of the day, there's no one there waiting for me. Nobody is calling to ask about picking up my usual for dinner. I sit and stare at the indentation on my naked finger and burst into tears. I'm sad. I feel weak, and stupid for feeling weak. I've always considered myself to be an independent person. I can take care of myself. Even knowing that this is for the best, it's still so hard. I can't believe how hard.

I don't do well with change. But I'll just have to deal with it. I got married at 21. I hardly remember a life before him. I don't really know what I want anymore. That's something I'll have to figure out. I feel like I'm just suspended in space, not knowing what to do next. My family and friends who do know about all of this have been wonderful. That's really helped me in getting through this. The response has been a bit overwhelming. For those reading this who I've already talked with, thank you for all your support. It really means a lot to me. It's time to start a new chapter. I hope I'm ready for it.

Spanked By Ms. Margaret- Part 2 (Guest Post)

Here is the conclusion of the story by our friend Joey. You can catch Part 1 here if you missed it. Enjoy!

Spanked By Ms. Margaret

Part Two

The Spanking

When I approached Ms. Margaret, her face was flush with anticipation as she grabbed my arm.   All the privacy cubicles were taken.  It was a very busy night.  So, she took me to the saddle that had just been occupied for the very severe spanking I had just witnessed.  Oh no, I would be on display for the whole room.  My anxiety overcame any sense of modesty and I nodded OK.  There was no way I could wait another minute.  My heart was already thumping in my chest.

Ms M:  “Well.  What are you waiting for drop those pants young man.”

Me:   “Oui Madame”

Her hand gently pushed me to the saddle and I bent over it.  Now the saddle is a real western saddle and actually is comfortable to lie over.  But, it forced me to really stretch my legs so that my bottom was taught and in the ideal spanking position.

Ms M bent down and whispered the safe words to me. And she reminded me that grabbing her ankle was a sign for her to lighten up. 

I felt her hands lower the back of my shorts so that my bottom was bare and I could feel the coolness of the AC on my bottom.

At the bar, which was five feet away, I noticed that Mr. TR and Elle were sitting on stools and watching. At least my friend Elle was near for moral support.  But, why was she smiling and her eyes gleaming with anticipation?

Ms M was dressed all in black and had a wrap around skirt that she removed to reveal her beautiful legs in black leggings.  Her red hair framed her face and her eyes sparkled in anticipation of the spanking.  She picked up a double strap, the same one she had used earlier in the spanking I just witnessed.

Deep breath.  I am so toast!!!

Ms M:  ''You will thank me and count each stroke in French."

Me:  “Oui Madame.”

The first stroke came quickly and really stung.

Me:  “Un.  Merci beaucoup.”

The hard strokes continued on and on and on.  And, each stroke landed in the same spot each and every time. 

Fast forward.

Me:   “Quarante-Cinq. Merci beaucoup.” 

Ms M:  "I want you to count and ask me for another."

Me:  “Un. Merci beaucoup.  Puis-Je avoir une autre s'il vous plait.”

Mr. TR and Elle were both smiling and enjoying the spanking.  Had Elle turned to the dark side?

There was now a continuous burn as the strokes followed quickly as soon as I counted.

My ability to use the proper wording and keep the count encouraged Ms M to strike harder.  But, I was feeling confident at this point.  My confidence would be dashed in a few minutes.

Fast Forward:

Me:  “Quarante-sept. Merci beaucoup.  Puis-Je avoir une autre s'il vous plait.”

Ms M:  “Now I want you to count and tell me that you love me.”

I had guessed that I had received about 91 strokes and my bottom was on fire.  Ms M bent down and whispered in my ear: “Are you OK?”  I nodded yes.

Hard stroke in same spot.

Me:  “Un.  Je vous aime Madame M"

Fast Forward

Me:  “Quarante -sept.  Je vous aime Madame M"

Mr TR and Elle are speaking to each other and Mr. TR asks Ms M to stop for a second.

Mr TR:  “Joey is using the familiar form of the phrase and that is disrespectful.  I think he should start over again.”

Ms M:  “For your disrespect, you must start over and this time be respectful.”

So, now the strokes were up to about 139. 

Hard stoke.  My mind was totally blank except for the pain of the strokes.  I did not know how to say it correctly so I made something up.

Me:  “Blah, Blah, Blah in French.

After about another 35 hard strokes, I was stopped again. 

Elle:  “That is not the right expression."

Ms M: “Joey!!!!”

Hard stroke after hard stroke rained down on my bottom.

So why is it that tops think that spanking someone helps them improve their memory?  None of my bottom friends understand this concept and it did not work this night either.

Me:  Said pathetically.  “I do not know how to say it Ms M.”

Ms M:  “Ok. Forget the counting.”

Good news.  No more counting.  Bad news.  The strokes came faster.

I thought hold on, just hold on, it cannot be long now.

I could hear the echoes from the strokes as they continued. And, they were all in the same spot.

At this point I had received more than 200 strokes.  The burn and pain seemed to increase with each stroke and the strokes were relentless.   At my limit, I touched Ms M’s ankle and the spanking ended.

She lifted my shorts and helped me stand. I put on my pants and latched my belt.

Ms M gave me a big hug and I thanked her for the experience.

I walked back to where Elle was sitting and thanked her in a sarcastic way for her help.  We both laughed.  My bottom was hot and really sore.  I was thinking  that this was a great way to end the weekend.

Ten minutes later, Ms. M and Mr. TR rounded up me and five lovely ladies who were part of the group  that I joined during the weekend.  It was time for our punishment.  “Oh No.  Not now.”  

Yes now.  And, it was a real punishment spanking.

But, if you want to read how my weekend ended, I am going to refer you to the blog post by Rayne Bailey in the Blog “Mischief Managed.”  In Chapter Three of her account of the weekend, she tells the story of the punishment.  It was published on June 29, 2011.  I am the “lucky” gentleman in the story. (You can read that here.)

The spanking may seem harsh to some readers, but for me it was the experience I had craved for many, many months.  Thank you Ms. Margaret for making my fantasy a reality.  And, thanks to Mr. TR and Elle for being a part of the scene. 

And of course, a special thanks to my friend Lea for publishing my account in her blog.



                                                                         ----------------

Thank you Joey for sharing it with us!

Spanked By Ms. Margaret- Part 1 (Guest Post)

Today I'm happy to share Part 1 of a story by my friend Joey. Enjoy!

Spanked by Ms.  Margaret

Ms. Margaret is the founder and organizer of The Spanking Club of New York.  I am truly thankful to be a part of this club and for all of her hard work and effort.   To commemorate my first year in SCONY, I would like to share with you my first spanking by Ms Margaret which took place at the SCONY weekend in April 2011. 

Part One

The Interview

In March of last year, I called Ms. Margaret to request approval to attend the spanking weekend that she organizes semiannually.   We had a lengthy conversation, actually more of an interview.  In retrospect, I now understand that she conducts the interviews to ensure that the attendees understand the protocols of the club. She asked if I had a fantasy.  I told her yes and that it involved a student who miss-behaved in college.  I told her that my most difficult class in college was French and that I feared/liked the sensation of leather.  I also remember that it was a very pleasant conversation.  Ms M suggested that I use the message board and that I participate in chat to get to know the members. 

The Ritual Begins

Ten Days before the Weekend:  Chat Session. 

Ms M : “Joey. Have you been studying French?”

Joey: “No”

 Ms M:  “You mean No ma’am.”  

Joey:  “No, ma’am.”  

Ms M:  “I expect you to speak French during the weekend.  And, learn to count because you will be counting in French.”

Joey:  “Yes ma’am.”  There are ten people in chat, but I feel very, very alone and my heart begins to pound.

I was lucky to pass French in college.   TG for the internet.  I began to learn important phrases that I think I will need such as:  “Merci Beaucoup. “  And, I refreshed my memory of  the French words for numbers.  I had read that tops sometimes make bottoms count strokes, but counting in French would be a real challenge.


Three Days before the Weekend:  Chat Session

Ms M:  “Hi Joey.”

Joey:  “Bon Soir Ms. M.”  I felt good about my efforts to learn French and decided to be a little cheeky in chat.

Ms M:  “So. Have you learned to count in French?”

Joey:  “Oui, Madame.” 

Ms M:  “To what number joey.”

Joey:  “Trent, Madame.”   I am proud that I can count to 30 in French.

Ms M:  “LOL. Trent?  No Trent.  Cent!!!!”

Joey:  “Cent?”

Ms M: “Oui.”  My pulse jumped just thinking about counting out 100 strokes in French.  Damn! 


Two Days before Weekend:  (Me and 4 Tops in Chat)

Top (Any of the 4):  “So joey.  How is your French?”

Joey:  “Working on it. Thanks.”

Top:  “If you miss pronounce a number; you will be made to start again.”

Joey:  “Start again.”

Top:  “LOL.  Of course.”

Top:  “Ms M has a mean belt for naughty boys.”

Joey:  “Thanks for the warning.”

Top:  “We are looking forward to seeing you at the weekend. LOL.”

I sign off and take a very deep breath.  My heart is racing.  That night all I could think about was the chat session and the weekend.  It was the same for the next day and night prior to the weekend.  To this point, my only experience with spanking as an adult were the many stories I had read or accounts from bloggers. 



The Weekend:  Friday

It was a three hour drive to the weekend.   I occupied myself with practicing my French and tried not to think about my meeting with Ms Margaret.

I met Ms M on Friday and the scene continued.  She was very nice and then said,  “I have plans for you during the weekend.”  (evil giggle)  “Now get busy and help set up the room.”

A couple of  spankings on Friday relaxed me quite a bit, but the thought of a spanking from Ms M dominated my thoughts throughout  the day and night.  In the evening, the tops made it a point to talk extensively about the pain caused by different types of implements.   I fell asleep Friday night wondering what the encounter with Ms M would be like and if I could handle the experience.

The Weekend:  Saturday

On Saturday, Ms M was dressed in her Ms Margaret clothes.  There were a lot of fun activities and constant spankings.  At 11 AM, Ms M whispered in my ear:  “We have a date tonight.”  (giggle)

During the day, I was spanked with several different types of implements, some really stung.  Because I was a newbie, I was let off easy.  But, I was informed by some of the members that I would not be considered a newbie on Saturday night.

At dinner, the lovely Ms M visited my table and chatted with us.  This time she just pointed her finger at me and laughed.   Oh crap.  Suddenly, I lost my appetite.

The last night of play started at about 7PM.  Because it is the last night, the sound of spanking can be heard throughout the hall.  Several of my friends initiated me into a little group they had formed consisting of bottoms only.  And, I was given a T-Shirt to show my membership.   One of the ladies, Elle, had helped me during the weekend.  I really enjoyed our conversations and found her to be a well travelled and witty person.  After a spanking, I was standing at the bar with her and my friend Lea.  Ms. M looked across the room at me and once again pointed in my direction with an evil look. Elle looked at me and told me that Ms M can really spank hard.  Oh great!  Just what I wanted to hear.

Twenty minutes later, Ms M takes a lady by the arm and places her over a saddle.  The ladies skirt was lifted to reveal that she had on a thong that left her bottom bare.  Ms M took out her double belt and started to strike the bottom with quite a bit of force.  Whack. Whack. Whack. Whack.  Soon, the bottom was pink and the lady was wiggling and saying “ouch” with each stroke.  On and on the spanking continued.  Well, my anxiety level increased with almost every stroke of the belt.  I had never seen someone spanked with this intensity.  Whack, Whack, Whack, Whack.   The spanks continued to rain down on the bottom with even more intensity.  Ouches became Yelps.  How long?  An eternity for me as I watched! Probably, the same for the bottom.  So this is what is meant by hard play.  

I glanced at Elle and she instantly knew what was on my mind.  “Do you mind if I watch from a distance?” said Elle.  “Of course,” I was thinking that I could use all the support I could get when my turn came. 

Ms M hugged the bottom and looked at me.   This time when her finger pointed at me she gave me that come here look.  I looked at Elle and we both knew it was time for my lesson.  I stepped away from Elle and walked slowly towards Ms M.  Again, that same wicked smile crossed her face as I approached.  The moment that I had waited for and actually craved had finally arrived for me.

To Be Continued...

The After Hug

Who doesn't love a good hug? Well, a lot of people actually. And in some settings, I'm one of them. In the vanilla world, I don't really like being touched. I've been at work parties where people hugged everyone goodbye and I felt extremely awkward doing so. I like to cuddle but once the cuddling is done, I turn back toward my side of the bed and go to sleep. I can't sleep with someone touching me.

When I discovered the spanking world and began meeting people, I found them to be a very affectionate bunch. Everybody hugged, all the time. Nice to meet you! Hug. Good morning! Hug. Haven't seen you in a few hours! Hug. After a spanking. Hug. Time to head home now. Hug. It awakened my inner hug slut. I loved it. Maybe it was something about the closeness I already felt with everyone because of TTWD, but hugging fit in nicely.

There is a type of hug for almost every situation. There's the friend hug.

The greeting/so happy to see you again hug

The consoling hug

The I'm trying to distract you from something else hug

The happy hug

The comforting hug

The sexy hug

And my personal favorite and an important part of aftercare, the after the spanking hug

The whole ritual of a spanking is very important to my headspace. It starts with the anticipation beforehand, communication with the top, reasons laid out, scolding if the occasion calls for it. Undressing and being put into position. Then the spanking itself. Sometimes cornertime. Then the aftercare. The aftercare is the most important part for me. Of course, not every spanking is some intense and elaborate emotionally mindfucking scene where I need to be cuddled for a half hour after. 

I bet you didn't know the alternative definition of SSC was Scolding, Spanking, Cuddling. Okay I'm kidding, totally made that up. Don't want to confuse any new people. But even for a more basic playful spanking, I like a minimum of a hug afterwards. Spank me. Hug me. Easy enough, right?

A Real Life Spanking Fairytale

Once upon a time, in a spanking land far, far away, there lived a girl named Lea. She was attending her first ever spanking event with a lovely group called SCONY. Okay, the far away land was Pennsylvania, so not that far away. She had discovered them online about 6 months prior when searching for spanking stories. She was amazed to find that there was a whole world of people out there who shared the desire of spanking that she had always felt and had kept hidden from the world. There were forces out there whom she learned were called "vanillas" that made all of these people keep this to themselves. But alas, groups were born where they could all join together in this shared kink and she was about to experience it firsthand.

Lea was married to a man named J. It had been decided with her husband that she would attend alone. She had gotten to know many of her new friends online quite well over the months, but he wasn't really the most social fellow. This weekend would be a first for her and being spanked by someone other than her husband would be a first as well. And one that she was quite nervous about. This couple was quite new at this, you see. After much communication back and forth with others in this new group of friends, she decided she was ready for the next step. The time had come to pack up and make her travels East.

After a 12+ hour journey containing not one, but two layovers, Lea arrived at a horrid place called Allentown. If you've heard of it, you must be a Billy Joel fan or unfortunate enough to have passed through it's airport. She finally met her new friend A face to face at the baggage claim. They hugged and talked excitedly about the weekend to come, though Lea still felt a bit sick to her stomach and extremely apprehensive. But where was the third party who would be driving to the destination with them? In a flight mix-up that had Lea quickly becoming annoyed with the place called Allentown, she discovered their friend was stuck in Philadelphia. So she and A travelled backwards to rescue their friend and then continued back along the road to their final destination.

Lea was in awe of these things called toll booths. They were everywhere! These did not exist in her homeland of Utah. And they seemed to keep passing the same ones. Yes, they had gotten a bit lost, even with 3 of them in the car armed with maps and GPS systems. Some nice scenery was seen, though. Eventually they arrived at their destination, the resort where this spanking weekend was being held. Hurrah! As soon as they stepped out of the rental car, the people on the porch rejoiced and rushed to greet them. Excited introductions were made all around and many hugs were exchanged. Lea was a bit taken aback by the affection shown but soon felt at home amongst the others. Much quicker than she had imagined.

It was a lot to take in for Lea, putting together all the names and faces after all these months. She was told the next day they would all get nametags and was relieved for that. She'd hardly slept throughout her journey to this strange place but certainly couldn't rest now. She was too wound up with nerves and excitement in getting to know everyone. Lea was quite shy and didn't know how others would take to her. Fortunately, she found that she warmed up to everyone quickly and they seemed to like her. One hurdle passed. Her sarcastic sense of humor always emerged when she got to know people better and she'd find out later how she would end up paying for that. More conversations ensued with more people arriving and greetings made. She finally met the leaders of the group and realized that nobody looked at all like she had imagined. They were all just normal people, like her. Well... "normal" is relative. Everyone joined in the feast for dinner and as with any good party, the night ended with booze and karaoke.

The next morning, she joined many of the others out on the porch to chat before breakfast. As Lea cracked a joke about something that sent her friend into a fit of laughter, her eyes met with L across the porch. This is what she had heard so much about and was now experiencing first-hand. "The Look." She held his gaze for a moment and then blushed and looked away, as if looking elsewhere was going to make him disappear. She tried to act like she didn't even notice, but when she stole a glance back in his direction, his gaze was still fixated on her. She focused on tugging a thread from the sleeve of her sweater but soon he was standing beside her. "Let's go talk for a minute," he said. She hesitantly stood and followed him up the stairs into the office. She wondered if he could hear her heart pounding in her ears as they walked.

He closed the door behind him as her stomach twisted into knots. Just relax. This is what you are here for, right? This is what you wanted, she argued with herself. Her internal debate stopped cold as they made eye contact once more. He asked her how she was doing and what she thought about things so far. She managed to form a few sentences in reply, though she couldn't remember later what they were. They talked a bit about what she was looking for and soon it was down to business. He sat down and took her by the wrist, pulling her across his lap. She viewed the floor, palms down on the carpet, as the first swats landed across her bottom. She was reminded how much spanking hurt and again wondered why on Earth she craved this. He spoke to her as the smacks delivered by his hand gradually increased in intensity and she voiced her oow's and aah's. After a few minutes, he let her up and gave her a big hug. They rejoined the group on the porch and her friend commented on how she couldn't seem to stop smiling. She smiled in response.

Much more fun was to be had throughout the weekend. Lea enjoyed getting to know her new friends better and had many interesting conversations. She quickly discovered that tops didn't like the phrase "it's not my fault," which resulted in many bottoms being spanked. Since the thought of being spanked in front of other people made her want to go into a panic attack, the accuser decided they would meet at a later time to address it. She sat in her room with her stomach in knots waiting for that appointment to approach. She heard a bit of a commotion in the hallway before R finally knocked on her door. She later discovered that a helpful friend was trying to get rid of him for her, but to no avail. Lea opened the door and let him in, shyly retreating to the corner of the room to sit. She timidly chewed on her lower lip as he sat and talked with her for a few minutes, checking on how everything was going for her.

She could hardly focus on what he was saying because she was distracted by the terrifying piece of leather he'd carried in with him, that she now knew to be the FES (Flesh Eating Strap). Everyone else who was involved in the "it's not my fault" debacle had received 5 swats with the FES and she was about to be introduced to it as well. He instructed her to take her pants down and get over his knee. She was 90% certain that she'd throw up on his lovely shoes out of anxiety. She'd warned him of that in previous communications. He had laughed and said that if it happened, he'd deal with it. Fortunately, it did not come up. (No pun intended.) His hand came down hard across her bottom as he reminded her of a few behaviors that needed correcting. Much to her surprise, she was quite compliant and spitting out "Yes, Sir," and "No, Sir," in no time. Soon she was up and bent over the bed for the dreaded FES. He said he was using it lightly as this was her first time and then 5 swats struck her like a swarm of bee stings. At that moment, little did she know what the future would hold and that he wasn't lying. She pulled herself together and was given a big hug. The hugs were her favorite part.

Lea's adventures continued and involved much laughter with her new friends. By the end of the weekend she wasn't sure which was more sore, her bottom from the spankings or her abs from laughing so much. Things were winding down, some people were starting to go home, and that's when M told Lea to meet her in the woodshed. She hesitantly made the walk there and sat and waited. She thought by now that the stomach in knots feeling would have left her, but it had not. M entered with a bag full of toys that made Lea's eyes go wide. She soon found herself bent over a saddle and given an introduction to several paddles and straps. Her bottom was on fire and combined with all the emotions of the weekend coming forward, she started to sob. This had never happened during a spanking before. She felt oddly comforted, like a weight had been lifted off her chest. Her tears were freeing. She was hugged tightly as she gathered her emotions back together.

What a whirlwind the past few days had been for Lea. She had so many new experiences to process. She was so happy to have been able to do all of this and meet all these friends. She felt so at home amongst these people. She knew that she would certainly be back. After one more hiccup with the awful place called Allentown, she was headed home. She shifted uncomfortably on a very sore bottom throughout her flight but with a very big smile on her face. And all was well in Spankingland.