Friday, December 20, 2013

Merry Damn Holidays

Every year, the Monarchs put on a toy & food drive charity event and party at the Lair called Merry Damn Holidays. This year was quite the event with an extraordinary number of toys and food items collected for the needy. Turnout was amazing.

A Festive Beating Lost in the Holiday Spirit
Lizzie and I spent the day at the Lair, starting off with a prep meeting for the Monarchs' upcoming BOLD 2014 event, then leading into decorating the Lair for the charity event, followed by dinner and then the event itself which kicked off at 9 pm. The very next day, Lizzie and I were heading off to London—me on business and her on an early Christmas present.

As we prepped to head out to the Lair Lizzie approached me and sheepishly said, "Daddy, I'd like it so you beat me enough that I'll feel it on the plane tomorrow." This is a common request from her, typically when we're on a weekend getaway and we have a long drive back home. I promised her she could anticipate such a sensation the next day on the flight.

The party began and we enjoyed ourselves socializing with Monarchs and their girls. Soon it was getting late and Lizzie and I decided it was time to go into the main room to play. Things were busy in there. Because it was cooler outside, many people were inside socializing. Some of the girls were hanging out on stage and chatting and still others were on various pieces of furniture, playing.
On the way to Merry Damn Holidays, I talked to Craig about how comfortable I’ve become with the Monarchs’ girls. Primarily those who come to the monthly meetings, but I recognize those who only come to big events as well. This familiarity makes me quite happy. I feel like I’ve friends in the scene, if not the beginnings of a family. That’s something I hadn’t realized I missed from the spanking community.

The BOLD meeting was exciting - I think we are both thrilled about the upcoming event and the opportunities it presents. Last year, we learned so much (you can read about it here). This year looks to be even better!

Prep for Merry Damn Holidays went well. We tidied up the Lair and decorated for the event. This left time for dinner, which we enjoyed with a lovely couple we’ve grown fond of in the past months. I look forward to many more adventure with them.
Surveying the room, Lizzie and I chose a padded table on the main stage, right in the middle of the room. I laid out my implements, had Lizzie pull down her pants, and set to begin our scene. As we customarily do, I had her over my knee at the beginning. Lizzie loves an OTK hand spanking to warm up and I am more than happy to oblige.

After a warm-up, I had Lizzie grab a nanny paddle and a hairbrush and I set to spanking her with those, which drew the interest of the girls sitting across on the other side of the stage. After some yips and yelps, I felt Lizzie was in a place to move on, so I had her stand and I pulled down her tights, telling her to present her bottom.
Merry Damn Holidays gave us the opportunity to socialize with a number of people. We enjoyed talking to old friends and meeting new ones. As a highlight, at least to the pre-scene evening, Patrick offered Craig a paddle made of baleen (the brush-like teeth used to filter plankton in a whale's mouth). Craig gave me a few whacks in the courtyard, much to my delight.

But soon it was time for our scene in the main room. We headed inside to find many people taking refuge from the cold (I’m still not sure it was cold, but I’ll leave that for now). There was room on stage, in the middle of the room, and after a bit of discussion, Craig decided to take advantage of the space.
More implements were brought into action: canes, paddles and crops (with a focus on canes—I was in a cane mood). I could see others had come to watch. There were lots of eyes on us now. Some of the Monarchs had come in with their girls as well and it felt like all eyes were on us.

I yanked off my belt and a female friend sitting nearby emitted an audible "oooh!" Clearly she was not a fan. Lizzie loves a good strapping and I know there is no warm-up with a strap for her, it is all about whacking her as hard as I I did. The sounds coming from the girls was like I was knifing Lizzie in the kidneys.

We moved on to more cane work, more spanking, more paddles. I switched back to the belt. Lizzie's bottom was starting to look rather beaten, raised welts and all. She had been alternating between crying and being deep in subspace. But by the look of her bottom, it was time to end it.

I got out a crop with a thick foam rubber tip that is in a V-shape. It is a scene-killer for Lizzie. I smacked her only four times with it, each time she cried out, each time she exclaimed (loudly), "Please, Daddy!" I switched to my traditional scene ender, a thick leather custom paddle, a suitably whacked the bejeezus out on her rear end.

Swollen, red and bruised, the scene was done. We hugged, held each other for some time. I looked around the room and saw many, many people watching. Doug, another Monarch, wanted the play space, so we cleaned and packed up quickly.
I cannot give a good description of the events that followed. I had asked Craig for “something I would feel on our trip” the next day, and he set about delivering just that.

This was an impact scene - plenty of paddles, canes, and straps. It was enough to distract me from the exhibition aspect, but not enough to keep me from noticing. I saw our friends watching. I saw a number of strangers watching intently. It heightened the scene, having people watch.

I noticed the reaction when Craig removed his belt, but I love his belt. I sunk into it, not moving, while the onlookers hissed in awe. I’m still not certain why - I simply love it. But there is power in it, a power exchange I can absorb and love.

But soon, I slipped away into subspace. Completely.
Afterward, we received many compliments for our intense scene, much to our delight.

The next day, as we flew across the Atlantic toward London, I inquired: "So, do you feel it, pet?" She smiled at me with a dreamy look on her face, "Yeah... Thank you, Daddy."

For the next few days, Lizzie would sit on a hard bench, wooden cafe seat or similar and exclaim, "Ouch! My bottom hurts."

I'd say we both got exactly what we wanted from that scene.
After, we cleaned up and slipped into the bathroom to take a picture. Only after that, we made the rounds to say goodbye to our friends. The compliments made me soar again - there is something special about the comments of people who watch our scenes.

I know I got what I wanted. Both in the moment of the scene and the aftereffects that have lasted for days.

Friday, December 13, 2013

On the Ropes Again

We had an opportunity to get another rope lesson from Patrick, and of course we took it! We managed a few pictures to add to our side-by-side commentary of the evening.

Once again, I found myself at the Lair with Lizzie, meeting up with rope master Patrick to get another lesson in rope bondage and binding. Given it was the coldest night we'd had all season (yes, I know, it's LA so it was only 37 or so, but for us Los Angelenos, it's damn cold!) we didn't meet in the "shed" (a semi-outdoor space next to the patio), we went into the private bedroom, keeping the door open so passers-by could come check us out.

Patrick began with his usual no-nonsense approach to "showing me the ropes." It wasn't long before he had Lizzie completely enmeshed in rope, showing me carefully every step and having me help.
When I showed up at the Lair wearing tights under my skirt and a thin leather jacket over my t-shirt, I thought I was prepared for the weather. All the other girls had brought out their Arctic weather gear. I know it’s December, but it still doesn’t feel like winter to me. Still, as nice as the weather was, I was glad Patrick and Craig had decided to play inside.

Patrick had barely started when Craig invited the first of several interested watchers to sit in the room with us. She joined us, adding her questions to Craig’s questions as Patrick tied me to the bed post. I do love being used as a demo bottom...possibly as much as I enjoy whatever the Top is doing at the time.
We added a collar and leash and undid her legs and I led her around the Lair. Given how cold it was and Lizzie was shoeless and completely naked, taking her outside to walk past everyone was a chilling activity.

When we untied her, the ropes really left an impression on her...

Next, we worked on a rope alternative of arm cuffs, lacing Lizzie up until she was completely restrained. This worked great. I could really manhandle her and manipulate her positioning. I slapped her face and breasts while onlookers enjoyed the show.
One of the things I enjoy about rope play is the way it allows me to be an exhibitionist. We frequently play at the Lair, of course, so it should not be a surprise that I love to be watched. But during impact play, I am only aware of watchers on the periphery. I think this may be due to the positions we use for impact play or the sheer physicality of impact play, which keeps me from thinking overly much about anything. Another difference I’ve noticed is that people comment more on rope play - whether directing questions at the Tops or pointing out things to other onlookers. Of course, it might also be that I am able to hear the comments because there are no distracting loud spanking noises to cover the comments.
It was a great evening again, a good scene and a fantastic learning experience for me. I'm always eager to learn new things. Can't get enough. Lizzie is proving to be quite the rope/restraint whore. Well, maybe whore isn't the right term—but she does love it and starts purring so quickly just by being restrained.

In a few months, after I've had a chance to practice these techniques a bit, we'll have another lesson-slash-scene and we'll be sure to post more!
The tie Patrick taught us is simple, but versatile. He used only one “knot” (which isn’t a knot at all) to do several different things. In addition to the things he showed us, he stopped at different times to point out the variety of options we could explore.

After we finished, one of the people who had stopped by frequently to watch asked me why we hadn’t played more, after I’d been tied up. I explained to him that this had been more lesson than scene, which seemed to confound him. Where do people think we learn these things?

Friday, December 6, 2013

Our Private Weekend

With the kids away for the weekend, we planned a weekend full of scenes, intimacy, and fun. We had exactly that! Read on to see what the weekend held.

A rarity occurred over Thanksgiving weekend. The kids were away and we had the house to ourselves for almost three whole days.

Lizzie told me about a fantasy she had: she imagined me pulling out every implement I owned (which amounts to dozens and dozens) and using each one, discussing them in detail (which she likes, which I like, which don't work, which are "hidden gems" I haven't really been using, etc.). She had emphasized it was only a fantasy.

Nonetheless, we rummaged through every storage container of implements stashed around the bedroom (there are three including a cedar chest and a rifle case for whips and floggers) and pulled out everything. We had canes by the dozen, straps by the half-dozen, paddles of wood and leather and metal, all sorts of odd things ranging from tawse-like implements to dragon's tongues to dragon's tails. And we didn't even crack open the implements used for sensation play or more sexual pursuits.

Lizzie get into position and we began. Barely into our second dozen of implements I managed to break yet another toy on her bottom:
I had the brilliant [admittedly, in hindsight, insane] idea that it would be fun to have a scene where Craig used every single implement we own. I know he’s wanted to go through the collection. And we talk so much about different sensations, but it’s difficult for me to describe the feelings after a long scene. This seemed like a logical experiment.

The story I told Craig started with him using every implement on me for a few strokes. In my story, he would pick out a few implements during this experimentation portion to use for a longer scene. For that scene, I thought it would be fun to do a “guess the implement” paradox style scene. We didn’t get that far (thankfully).

I knew I’d made a mistake when we pulled out all the implements - the gun case under our bed, the travel bag packed with everything Craig takes to the Lair, the six plastic bins we use to organize all the implements stored in my cedar chest (yes, I have a full-sized cedar chest in my closet used exclusively for our collection...not including any of my costumes).

Before we could start the scene, however, Craig took me over his knee for the handspanking that starts most of our weekends and scenes. It’s our time to reconnect, through the simplicity and intimacy of what brought us together initially.


Occasionally, I'd rediscover an implement I loved and had forgotten about and would get into it with Lizzie and the implement. "This isn't a scene, it's an experiment!" Lizzie chided at one point when I would get into it with one of these implements. True. We were testing. I'd smack her with whatever I grabbed, then I would ask her about it: did she like it? did it "work" for her? If not, was it something I liked and would want to use anyway and would that be a "scene killer" for her if we did? A few implements were just, "No." I get that. A few were, "If you want to torture me then I guess..." Those get a special place for my sadistic use.

A couple implements were disposed of, broken and thus potentially dangerous or simply to cheap to use safely (one was my very first paddle purchase). A few others I decided I really didn't care for and so put into a pile to donate.

We continued on into our second hour of play, and though I only hit a few times per implement I managed to bring up blood nonetheless.
We started the scene with floggers, Craig has quite a collection that we rarely use. Initially, Craig would use an implement a few times and ask me for my thoughts. This wasn’t very productive as my first thought was always “that hurts” followed by the slightly more helpful “it’s stingy,” “it’s thuddy,” or “fuck, what was that?”

Because Craig was using similar implements, such as the series of floggers, however, I was eventually able to provide better information in the form of comparison. We continued in that way, often with Craig picking up a previous implement to use again so that I could make a better comparison.

I’m not sure what I expected him to do with this information, but I was surprised when he decided to reorganize our collection based on the scene. He made a pile of implements to give away. He swapped out some of the implements in our travel bag for other implements he decided he wanted to use more regularly. Basically, we had a Spring Cleaning scene.

But we discussed more than just the impact of each implement. We talked about previous experiences with the implements and types of implements. Craig tried some different techniques and styles.

And it wasn’t just an academic discussion. Craig brought me to tears twice. We had to stop once to apply a bandage. We broke one ruler, threw away three implements, and made a small collection for future donations. My little experiment became a full blown scene.
By the time we had gotten through all the implements there was no way that wasn't a scene, regardless of the dialog that occurred throughout. I think Lizzie even managed to achieve some subspace a few times. She was certainly blissed out. We had spent over two hours and Lizzie was exhausted and "party hungry" as she puts it (that unending hunger one gets after multiple scenes at a spanking party). We gathered up the dozens of implements and put them away so we could set about to preparing a lovely dinner of Thanksgiving leftovers and wine.

The next morning, we were up and at it again. I had decided we would have a "littles day" from the moment Lizzie woke up on Saturday until well after her nap time when we would be going out (as grown-ups) to a movie and dinner. I told Lizzie to wake me up as a little, since she has a tendency to wake up before I do and slip out of the bedroom to read until I wake up on the weekends.

She came in, jumping onto the bed and climbing on top of me when I awoke. "Time to get up, Daddy!" she said. "The sky is awake and it's daytime!" Thus began our littles day. We went downstairs and I made her breakfast.

It was time for a spanking. I invented some reason for it (I don't even recall what it was) and bent her over the sofa in the family room. After, I worked on my computer (I'm always working) and I had Lizzie color. She has a hilarious "Adult Coloring Book" and she took to filling in the pages and showing me her progress.

Soon it was time to go upstairs. I had more planned for our littles day and I wanted to make sure we had for it all.
It’s California-cold, so instead of spending the weekend naked (as I love to do when we get these weekends alone), I put on a pair of over-the-knee socks and a zip-up hoodie that I left unzipped.

It was too early for dinner, so I made appetizers while Craig played a game on his son’s new Playstation. I was experimenting with leftover pizza dough, but the results were so good I ended up making a second batch before we had dinner.

We enjoyed our leftovers from Thanksgiving. I went to bed ridiculously early. I felt like I was wasting our alone time, but I must have needed the sleep because I slept in nearly as long as Craig the following day.
We went to the bathroom where my little had to have an enema, to clean her out for being rude to her nanny. The enema was as much about the headspace of the humiliation and scolding as it was about the sensation. I filled her up twice and sent her to the toilet to empty, while I stood and watched, arms crossed. After the second time I brought her back to the bathtub and had her watch as I carved a piece of fresh ginger root. It was time for a gingering (no, not "figging"—who "figs" with ginger??? it makes no sense!). I could hear Lizzie sigh her exasperated sigh she does when things are going to be going horribly wrong for her, scene-wise.

I inserted the ginger with only saliva as a lubricant, stinging her anus which was clean from the enema. It burned, or so I was told. Burned enough that I couldn't leave it in for long, but I did manage a bit of spanking, working around the root that was inserted inside her little bottom.

I gave her a bath after that, allowing her to luxuriate in the warm water, and gave her some bath toys (my granddaughter's) to play with. After, I dried her off and sent her to bed for a nap.
I rarely sleep in as long as Craig does on the weekends - I don’t get up early during the week and I get to take naps. So we’ve developed a habit where I’ll go downstairs when I wake up and Craig will text when he wakes up so that I can crawl back into bed with him. But this morning was different. Craig had told me he wanted to do a “littles” day for me.

I’d picked out pajamas the night before and I put them on before I went downstairs. When Craig texted, I came back upstairs to find him pretending to be asleep. I jumped on the bed and told him he had to wake up because the sun was up and it was time to be awake.

Daddy made me breakfast and let me color while he worked on his laptop. Of course, he had to “ruin” the lovely morning by discussing some naughtiness “nanny” had told him about...but, of course, that is part of the fun.

After a spanking and enema, a few threats of soap, and the application of ginger, Daddy tucked me into bed for a nice long nap. (I’m pretty sure he went and played on the Playstation again. I’m beginning to understand why that was an early Christmas gift.)
After we got back from a lovely dinner and the movies it was time for yet more thrashing. This time, with implements at hand, Lizzie got quite the delicious spanking. Her bottom was very sore from the two-plus hour scene the day before, and it didn't take much to get her "up to speed" but we had a good scene that got a bit intense, as I recall.

After that long day, it was time for bed. Lizzie was wiped out and I was feeling rather tired myself, so we turned in.
We had a grown-up night out planned - dinner and a movie. We had discussed going to a “boring grown up” movie that the kids would not want to see with us. Due to show times, however, Craig picked Frozen. I nearly died during the opening scene where the little red-headed girl is trying to wake her sister, saying, “But the sky is up! It’s time to get up and play!”

The movie was wonderful, even outside the little’s headspace. And dinner proved to be even better. I do cherish our special date nights.
The next morning was the last day before the kids returned in the afternoon. It was time for one last scene before we got dressed to go about our day. In the bathroom, Lizzie bent over the tub to get her last spanking of the weekend. I made sure it was a good one.

We cherish these weekends, as we've blogged about before. Occasionally we get a window of a few hours (though very, very rarely) and only once or twice a year do we get the whole house to ourselves for a couple of days. Interestingly, we managed to get in two more opportunities over the following week for additional spankings, making the week the rarest of all.
We had one last morning before the house was invaded again. We managed one last scene. My bottom was surprisingly tender from the first experiment (or scene) of the weekend.

Thursday, November 28, 2013

Happy Thanksgiving

On behalf of myself and Lizzie we would like to wish all of you a very Happy Thanksgiving. Even if you're from Canada and have had Thanksgiving already or are from some of the many other countries that check out our blog—we are extremely thankful to have you as our readers.

So, in honor of Turkey Day, I've decided to truss up LIzzie. Don't worry, I only eat the white meat (on Lizzie, I mean).

Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

Craig & Lizzie

Thursday, November 21, 2013

The Future of Our Dynamic

We are anticipating some big changes in the next year. Last weekend, we were touring houses (a frequent occupation these days) and we started talking about the future. We decided it would make an interesting topic to write about.

What We Have In Store Changes
Living with two of my kids and a granddaughter is challenging. Not because of all the chaos, activities, constant companions and events that occur, and not simply because we cannot explore our kink at our discretion. Our D/s has deepened over time, the exploration of which has been innate...natural. What Lizzie needs and what I want so enmeshed in our common desires and goals as to be almost unbelievable.

But with such a full house our dynamic is stifled. We have our little things:

When I go upstairs to change out of my business clothes and into my typical t-shirt and gym shorts, Lizzie comes up stairs, kneels outside of my closet and undresses me. It's a powerful moment, every night. It is a power exchange and a show of her service to me. After, as part of our ritual, I take her by the wrists and lift her to standing, kissing her on the forehead and telling her she is a "good girl." I am always touched by the sharp intake of breath I hear when she hears those words.

When we eat, Lizzie will wait until I take the first bite (or if we are having a cocktail or wine, she'll wait until I take the first sip [generally]) as a sign of deference to me.

When we get up on the weekends, she will make my coffee and when it's done dripping into the pot, will pour me a cup and hand it to me with both hands, looking me in the eye and saying, "Here's your coffee, sir."

These things may seem trite to some, but they are a part of our ritual, our dynamic, but are such little things. We want more.
Exploring our dynamic has been a complicated process. Initially, I believe, our dynamic was the combination of who I am (certain aspects of submission and service that come from my personality and the way I was raised) and Craig’s acceptance of me. Over time, we became comfortable with that and sought to enhance and further it.

Our long distance relationship stifled some of those attempts, but it also served to enrich our discussion. We wrote long emails, explored ideas through stories, and talked for hours on the phone. We developed our own vocabulary, as we quickly discovered that neither traditional English nor kink jargon would serve - too many words held different or flexible meanings to allow clear communication.

Craig has described our ritual at home very well. These things may seem silly, but they are surprisingly important.

For the last month, I was in a cam-boot, with strict orders not to put any weight on my right foot. (The doctor was surprised how compliant I had been with these orders. Thank you, Craig...that’s the first time a doctor has referred to me as “compliant”.) During that time, Craig did not want me to worry about our rituals. He wanted to take care of me.

But that didn’t work out. We both missed our quiet time alone when he changed. That is one time, every day, that we focus on our dynamic. We used a modified version - he had to help me down to the floor and back up - but it worked. I couldn’t carry his coffee with my crutches, but I could make it and fill his cup. It worked.
Dynamic in the Future Looking Forward
I'm not talking about Jetsons-style flying machines. Next year, my son heads off to college. My daughter and granddaughter will move out when Lizzie and I move closer to the city to have our own place. It it there and then that our lives will change because we will be closer to my work friends, closer to our lifestyle friends and finally in a place where we can explore our dynamic.

We have most, if not all, of our rituals already planned out. They are expressed in a living document we share and add onto and review. There will be the obvious spankings, bondage, beatings and the like—both alone and with others. We want to add a third person to our lives, to explore our poly leanings. Lizzie is happily bi (or pansexual depending on your definitions) and we want to enjoy another that we can share our experiences with in a caring, loving, D/s relationship more full time than some of the rather part time (or party time) experiences we've had before.

So...a lot of change in the future. A future we contemplate frequently and a future we can wait to experience.
We are quickly approaching another big change in our lives (the first being my move out to California). In addition to the empty nest, we hope to move much closer to Craig’s office. So much closer, that I anticipate an average of three additional hours together every day. (He has an incredible commute.) Imagine having two to three more hours in the day and the freedom to use that time. The possibilities...

I’m not as confident about the rituals we have planned out, though it’s true that they are written into a living document we share. Like the move from Kansas to California, I think our move into town will bring some unexpected changes. None of our most powerful rituals today were decided (or even discussed) before I moved. And those rituals changed again when we moved earlier this year - a short move within the school district. But I am confident in our ability to mold our rituals to fit our new lives.

I look forward to the things Craig mentioned and many more. Time. Freedom. But always, our continued communication and adjustment and fulfillment.

Tuesday, November 12, 2013

Love Our Lurkers!

As we celebrate the second LOL on our relatively new blog, We launched in October of 2012, so technically we just had our first anniversary and we didn't even acknowledge it! In that time we've posted 50 blog posts and have racked up over 115,000 hits all over the world. Since we don't get many comments on our blog ;-) we can only assume that there are a LOT of lurkers out there!

So...happy Love Our Lurkers Day!

We genuinely appreciate you. We're glad you visit. We appreciative you take the time to come back. Lurkers or commenters, we're glad you're here. Thank you for making us a stop on your kinky internet forays!

Thursday, November 7, 2013


A number of weeks past we blogged about our intro into rope play. You can read about it here. Patrick, the rope master who gave us our tutorial, assigned us homework: try this out on our own! So we did!

Home is where the hemp is Without a Script
Lizzie has been on crutches for weeks, so our ability to play has been challenging, but Lizzie (rather instantly) "suggested" we play with our rope last weekend. She hobbled onto the bed, undressed and patiently awaited for me to gather the rope.

I came back with the rope, pulled out my phone and began scrolling through photos to find the ones I had taken of Lizzie when we did our "class" at the Lair. "Don't copy what he showed you, do your own thing," she urged.

I was hesitant. I bought the book "Bondage for Sex" a long time ago. I would tie women up, going step by step in the book like an instruction manual (which it was) and would end up with varying degrees of success. Patrick showed me that there was a simple symmetry with what he did—less about complicated knots than erotic binding.
While I was intrigued by our early adventures in rope play, the more spontaneous method Patrick showed us is far more appealing to me. I have a general dislike for scripted encounters, I think. I understand that scripts work for some people - perhaps they have a very specific fantasy to play out or a particular fetish to accommodate.

But for all the stories I write, like those here, scripts are not typically part of my play. I write to explore ideas, to communicate the kink that dominates my thoughts at the time, and for the simple pleasure of getting off (and, I hope, getting my readers off). I’ve written stories that are fantasy encounters, perhaps even scenes I would enjoy...but only if the scene unfolded organically.

My favorite scenes focus on the connection between players - the particular power dynamic of the people and the moment. Rope is no different.
With Lizzie spurring me on, I set about to tying her up, remembering that it wasn't about a rote process but about the erotic connection of the two people using the rope as a means to facilitate that connection...and be impetus of the power exchange.

It worked. Lizzie fell into a daze, entranced by the rope, the bondage and the power exchange. Our eyes connected, the rope tightened, her breasts grew redder and then a purplish tinge as the rope bound further. Completely tied up and unable to move, I pushed her over onto her side, took off my pants and forced her to do things to me and then forced myself onto her, taking her fully at my pleasure.
I suppose I was not in a subtle mood - our play has been limited and I could tell that Craig was falling back into his instruction manual method. He likes to do things right, which I appreciate, but rope is not a new implement to be mastered before play.*

Instead of trying to recreate the tie we did with Patrick, I encouraged Craig to feel his way through it. I remember Patrick telling Craig there need only be one knot, at the end of a tie, and no one expected it to be up to Boy Scout standards. The power of rope is the variety of ways it can be used - binding the body to the Top’s will. But the beauty of the tie is not in the intricate or perfect pattern of the rope, instead, it is in the power exchange of the process.
It was a hot, powerful scene. I carefully undid the rope, teasing it away from her, drawing it across her flesh as she moaned and cooed and breathed deeply. Afterward, I carefully put her to bed for a nap, wrapping a blanket over her beautiful body and had her go to sleep.

I can't complain if this is what my "homework" is going to be under Patrick's expert instruction.
We had an incredible scene. The rope brought us together on a deep level. I find rope more erotic each time we play with it. This was no exception. Even before Craig finished the tie, I wanted him to take me and take advantage of me.

He did.

*I cannot overemphasise the importance of a Top’s familiarity with an implement. This is one place I will get on a soapbox (or Top from the Bottom if the situation calls for it): If you aren’t familiar with an implement, learn about it, practice with it (preferably on a pillow or other forgiving surface), take it slowly, or don’t use it at all. There is simply no excuse for causing injury due to stupidity and overconfidence. </rant>

Thursday, October 31, 2013

Flash Fucktion

Craig is traveling, so he picked out a few pictures and wrote his side of the story. Lizzie scrambled his text before writing her own story. We hope you'll enjoy the results.

Private Humiliation Public Humiliation
As she began to pull out items to make dinner, her phone buzzed for her attention. On the screen were these words:

Get Dressed. We are going out. I will send another text with what to wear. Be ready by 7.

A few moments later, very specific instructions on her outfit came through: black stockings, black thong, black suede mini skirt and his favorite, diaphanous cream colored peasant shirt with an open lace-up front that, when loosened, revealed her pink breasts.

She quickly put away the dinner things and set about to preparing to go out to dinner with her master and lover. She pulled out the items he requested and tossed them aimlessly on the bed. She took a long bath, relaxing in the warm water that reddened her skin. Her phone rang. Damn! She didn’t put it next to the tub! She scrambled from the water, nearly slipping, grabbed the towel and reached for the phone. It wasn’t him. It was her sister. Her pregnant sister. She hadn’t heard from her in so long!

Dabbing herself as she dried, she caught up with one of her best friends. It seemed like only minutes had gone by when she jumped to see him standing in the doorway of the bathroom. “I have to go,” she said quickly, clipping off the conversation and shutting down the phone.

“Why aren’t you ready?” he seethed. “We have dinner reservations with my important client in town from Beijing. We need to leave. I’ll ask again: why aren’t you ready?”

She looked sheepish. “My sister called, see? You know how long it’s been since I talked...”

He cut her off, looking at his watch. “It’s 6:30. You can explain later. In the mean time, dry your hair, put on your makeup and I’ll prepare for you to dress.”

“Prepare for me to...” She stopped short, watching him glare at her with a raised eyebrow. She set to drying her hair and applying her make up, listening with curiosity to the strange sounds coming from the master bedroom. It sounded like he was pulling on a roll of duct tape, that distinct zzzzt, zzzzt, zzzzzzzt sound it made.

Dried hair and makeup on, she came into the bedroom to see strands of duct tape in neat rows and her glass anal plug nearby. “Come here,” he growled.

Within minutes he’d fashioned a harness, made entirely of duct tape, and affixed the anal plug to it. Opening a jar of lube he carefully applied the goop to the plug, wiping his hands on a towel. She stood by his side, eyes wide with worry. “Bend over.”
“Not so fast, little one.” His voice came from behind her. She spun around, her tights slick on the carpet. He was fresh out of the shower, a towel wrapped around his hips. Her question died on her lips as she watched him stride toward her.

“No, no,” he muttered, “That won’t do at all.”

She tilted her head to look at him, still refraining from questioning him. She was hardly dressed herself; there was nothing about her thong or tights he would complain about on this cold autumn night. Her hair was down, left slightly tousled the way he prefered it. She bit her lip, watching him.

“No panties,” he growled at her, “I want you to wear a harness tonight.”

“To dinner?” Her eyes flew open at the thought.

She had worn a harness to dinner before, of course, but only when they went to dinner alone. They always ended up cutting dinner short because the harness made her so horny. Tonight they had reservations with another couple. While the couple would probably enjoy her squirming, there was no way this dinner would be a short one.

“Stop looking at me with your puppy-dog eyes, little one. I’ve told you what I want. Get that off.”

Her fingers fumbled a bit with the top of her tights, but she soon had them rolling down her legs. Her panties were tangled in the thin fabric, so she took a moment to shake the tights out and put the panties away.

He stood with his arms crossed, watching patiently as she righted her tights. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye before hurrying to get her supplies. She collected a roll of duck tape, a small glass plug, a tub of lube, and a pair of scissors before returning to him.

Her fingers shook a little as she constructed the harness, but she worked with casual familiarity. She stuck the plug to the tape, fixing it in place and ensuring the tape’s adhesive was covered. She used the scissors to cut the front of the strip in two before generously covering the plug with lube. She wrapped another piece of tape around her hips.

She bent over next to the prepared plug, presenting her ass to him. He smiled, his hand reaching to play with her bottom. His fingers teased her sensitive skin, rubbing the few marks remaining from an earlier spanking. Finally, he took the plug and inserted it into her bottom. She stood and he adjusted the straps before affixing them to the band around her waist.
She did as she was told. He inserted the plug, carefully wrapped the ends of the duct tape around her and snipped the lengthy bits, tugging here and there until he was satisfied with the fit. “Stand up.”

Again, she did as instructed and he examined his handiwork. “Now get dressed. You only have a few minutes before we’re late.” It was sinking in what was to come. She pulled on her black stockings, mini skirt, blouse (no bra, just the way he liked) and slipped on a pair of shoes and returned to his gaze, squirming.

“You are to wear that harness throughout dinner. You will not squirm. You will not ask to go to the restroom to have it removed. If you go to the restroom it will be only to pee, which you can do with it on. Do you understand?”
“Finish getting ready,” he said with one hard smack to her bare bottom.

She squirmed as she walked to the bathroom. The plug shifted as she walked; her excitement causing moisture to pool between her legs. She tried not to move as she put on her makeup, but he was wise to her attempts and sought her help more than usual.

“Hand me my comb, pet. It’s just over there.”

“Fetch my belt from the other room.”

Finally, they were headed to dinner. The ride was a subtle torture. She shifted with each bump and turn. He simply smiled, enjoying each movement.
She nodded silently.

At dinner, she felt the pressure of the plug inside her. He laughed and talked with his clients and she genuinely joined in too, always the consummate companion and a good conversationalist. At one point, as the entrees were being served, she shifted in her seat. It wasn’t that the plug was uncomfortable, it was that she was so fucking wet. But her movement caused him to glare at her, then reach surreptitiously between her legs to press a finger on the plug, making her mew.

After the lengthy dinner and he had bid his clients farewell, the two went to his car in the parking lot at the restaurant. He opened the door for her, pulling a folding hunting knife from his suit pants pocket. “Bend over,” he said. He opened the knife and cut the harness off of her, pulling a zip lock bag from another pocket, placing the plug and tape in it and sealing it before tossing it on the floor of the car.

He spanked her there, right out in the parking lot, looking around to make sure no one could see (even though she was certain there were those who could hear!). “Get in.”

They got in the car and drove home. Her punishment complete, she snuggled up against him as he drove. “I’m sorry I got distracted,” she said.

“You paid your price,” he responded. “You enjoyed it, didn’t you you little slut?”

She replied in a quiet, embarrassed voice: “Yeah....”
“You’ll have to tell them about it, pet. I’m sure they’ll be interested. You might even have to go to the ladies room so you can show her.”

He was right, of course. They had barely been seated before the girls excused themselves. Dinner was fun, enhanced by the teasing and banter between the four friends. Even with all that, they finished dinner fairly quickly. Their friends were nearly as anxious to see the harness in person as she was to get home!

Back home, she found herself bent over the bathroom counter with interested hands inspecting the harness in great detail. Soon, her friend was bent over next to her. Their partners began spanking in unison, switching back and forth with the unspoken ease of couples with plenty of experience playing together.

The spanking soon transitioned into even more interesting things...

Thursday, October 17, 2013

Another Weekend Opportunity

A side-by-side recounting of our brief opportunity to play this weekend.

Rarely do we get our house to ourselves. You'd think with close to 3,000 sq. ft. and four bedrooms we'd have plenty of time to play. But alas, with a 17 year old, a 23 year old, her boyfriend and her three year old daughter in our house (all voluntarily, all good), quiet time for the two of us is rare.

As I was out and about running errands and working I got a text:

Maybe the kids could go out for dinner tonight?

Clearly, Lizzie was feeling "The Itch". She needed a spanking, or more, and I knew that denying that instinct would only become a bigger craving later. So I texted the kids, worked out the logistics and got the house to ourselves for a few hours of bliss.
As Craig said, we have a full and busy house. It’s great that I’m not left alone when he travels, but we are also rarely alone. I’m not as big a fan of silent scenes as Craig is - a short, hard caning helps, but it doesn’t have the intimacy of OTK or the burn of a good spanking.

It’s been awhile since we found time to get away to the Lair, so I found myself craving something. It’s always hard for me to ask, but more so when I know that even if Craig wants to give me what I’ve asked for, it might not be possible. It feels like the odds are stacked against me - the double possibility that he won’t feel like it or he won’t be able to arrange it.

But I asked. And the kids were obliging enough to go out (unfortunately, they couldn’t decide on a movie so it was just dinner).
We planned a lovely dinner: Catalan tomato and garlic rustic toast with olive oil and rock salt, New York Strip steaks, shredded brussel sprouts with pancetta and garlic, mushroom risotto and a lovely bottle of old Rioja I was saving for a special occasion. For dessert: grilled peaches wrapped in bacon and drizzled with sage infused honey.

But before dinner, it was time to get down to business.

I called Lizzie over to the sofa, where I sat. She laid herself across her lap, still in her sweats!

"You can take those down first, young lady!" I said. She jumped back up, as if electrocuted, and pulled the sweatpants down.
We made our plans early enough in the day that we had time to make plans for dinner. When we have time for dinner alone, we often fall back on a “snack dinner” - a dinner consisting of a series of appetizers. It’s something goofy and fun that has been part of our relationship for a long time.

But last weekend, we had time to plan a real dinner. We love to cook together, so this was a different type of fun.

But before we made dinner, Craig had to make sure we made use of our brief time alone. As soon as the kids were out of the driveway, he called me over to the sofa. He wasn’t too pleased when I dove across his lap with my pajama pants still on, but he straightened that out quickly enough.
The spanking began. And then intensified. I have a variety of "handfeels" as I like to call them. Thuddy. Stingy. Ultra-thuddy. Firm. Hard. A switch it up. This went on for some time until Lizzie's bottom was bright red, warm and she was panting beneath me.

"Time for dinner?" I said. I held her for a little while before we got up to make dinner. Soon, we were at the table, sipping a fantastic wine, cutting into our juicy steaks and having a lovely conversation. The kids got home, but we continued on, oblivious. Our dinner lasted four hours!

Soon we were on the patio and I was enjoying a cigar while Lizzie served as my ash tray. We talked, drank old dark rum and enjoyed each other's company until it was close to 1 am.

Still squirming in her seat, we went to bed, thoroughly pleased at the opportunity for a special weekend "date" at home together.
Craig gave me a long, lovely handspanking. We actually talked about his technique a bit as he was spanking me (yeah, I know, I’m that kind of weird). I love the wide variety of ways he can spank me, using just his hand. Many people have called me a “pain slut” but I’m probably an even bigger “sensation whore” - I love variety.

Most of my play partners have one, perhaps two, methods of hand spanking, with varying intensity of course. But from the first time Craig spanked me, he employed different sensation techniques. My most vivid memory of that first spanking was when he paused during the spanking to press his entire forearm, covered in a rough sweater at the time, across my bottom. It wasn’t just rubbing, stroking, or squeezing (he does that too), it wasn’t in any way out of bounds, but it was different. And I loved it.

This weekend was no different - I loved every minute of our four hour “dinner”.