Friday, April 25, 2014

More Fun at Home

Sometimes, things work out. It seems we've talked a lot since Lizzie moved to L.A. about all our stolen moments—little opportunities to share our kink, our D/s, our play. Usually it ends up we find ourselves in our bathroom with Lizzie over my knee.

Last week, Lizzie sheepishly came to me. I could tell she wanted something and her downcast gaze said it all. Without her saying a word I told her, "Get me the cane." She danced off to grab it from my toy bag. 20 hard, hard strokes later, Lizzie was ready for bed.
Sometimes, I’ll tell Craig, “I want something…” I might mean I want dessert, or I want another drink, or I want a bedtime snack, or I don’t even know what I want. Most often, I don’t know what I want.

When I came to him the other night, I didn’t know what I wanted. We had come upstairs to go to bed, but I “wanted something”. He took one look at me and said, “Get the cane.” I protested, but he claimed I have a tell for when I want beating and another for when I want fucking. He might be on to something. The caning was exactly what I was looking for.
Those moments are different than the stolen ones, what we've dubbed "Silent Scenes." With kids in our house, we've become rather expert at Silent Scenes—scenes that involve quieter implements such as canes.

With a Silent Scene under our belts last week, something miraculous happened: my two kids independently informed me they were both going to be out for the evening on Friday...meaning the house was ours!

I texted Lizzie to pull together one of our favorite dinners (cheeses, bread, dried fruit and a charcuterie of meats) as I drove home, hurry to get to our time alone.

Once again I had Lizzie OTK and I hand spanked her for about 20 minutes with hand and her Kent wood hair brush before I set into a "super set" of 10 hand spankings, 50 smacks with the hair brush follwed by five whacks with my belt. Then I repeated. About 20 times.

After Lizzie recovered, we went downstairs enjoying some wine and our special dinner, curling up after on the couch together, enjoying our quiet, private time before the kids returned home.
That was one of our Silent Scenes - stolen moments conducted in silence when our house is filled with the usual occupants. But occasionally, we get the house to ourselves. This happened when the kids decided to go out independently (have I mentioned how I *love* their significant others, if only for encouraging such outings?).

Craig texted to tell me that the kids were both going out, and he asked me to prepare a snack dinner. I ran to the grocery store to get the necessary supplies, along with the chips and soda that accompany any such grocery run when the house includes teenagers.

I was preparing dinner when Craig got home from work, but I took a break to go upstairs. He pulled me over his knee, as we like to do whenever we have the opportunity. But then he asked me to get the Kent brush (see this post). He used that before using his belt, which I always love.

This was a love-love/hate-love cycle, which Craig repeated several times. I can’t argue with what he described, because I have literally no idea what happened. I was lost in the thrill and hurt of the scene.

Friday, April 18, 2014

Happy Easter!

Both of us thank you for always coming back and checking in our blog. We wish you and your families a Happy Easter.

To celebrate the weekend, Lizzie "dressed up" as a very spankable Easter Bunny. Certainly, you wouldn't want the kids running into this bunny, but I sure had a good time getting her hopping! I do always enjoy costumes...

After our photo shoot, I told Craig, "I want something..."

He replied, "Get the cane."

Saturday, April 12, 2014

Getting What She Needs

Oops! Our post was delayed by life. Still, we hope you enjoy this description of our most recent scene.

Last Friday was Conquest night again at our local dungeon, Lair de Sade. Lizzie has been very, very stressed lately. There’s a lot going on in our house. We are buying a home and we have a lot of other things going on that are going to be major changes in our lives—not bad mind you, just changes. Lizzie doesn’t handle stress well.

On the way to the Lair I asked her a customary question: “So, what do you need?” She knew exactly what I was talking about. Without much consideration to the question she said she needed to be pushed, to get away, to be de-stressed. But at the same time she gave me the caveat that she felt somewhat tenuous (because of the stress) and didn’t want to be pushed too far.
When Craig asks what I want or need before a scene, I have two typical responses. If we have an upcoming trip, I usually want “to feel it tomorrow” - I get a perverse pleasure feeling the welts from a hard scene when we travel. Another common response is that I want him “to push me” - I want him to push a soft-limit, or try something new, or push something further than we’ve done before.

I struggled to explain to Craig what I needed from the scene. In part, I think, because I was craving something so different from what I usually want from these scenes. Our time at the Lair is our chance to play hard and loud. As our chance not to be overheard, our scenes at the Lair tend toward a certain dynamic.
When our socializing was done and we were ready to play we ended up in a more private room off the main room. Our scene began our traditional way, with an OTK on the large padded table we had commandeered. I gave plenty of time to the OTK spanking, mostly because I know Lizzie loves it and having that physical connection would be a good way to start the scene.

Soon, the nanny and another paddle were put to use, pushing Lizzie to the point she was head-down, “digging in” to the scene. I had Lizzie stand and put her hands on the padded table and used the dragon tail and a whip on her backside before switching to crops, canes and other diabolical implements.

Lizzie was whimpering and hitting subspace so I wanted to move her prone on the table. From there, I got out straps, some of my more painful canes (carbon fiber anyone?) and other paddles. Lizzie’s whimpered and was on the verge of serious tears and in my mind’s eye I could see her riding on that razor’s edge between not being pushed enough and—what I perceived would be—being pushed too far.

I kept her on that edge for some time, intentionally pushing and then slightly drawing back with my impact. I caned her whole body, and then cropped her body as well. I knew Lizzie was nearing the end—not in terms of what she could take but more in terms of how long she could take it.

So…I pushed—to end the scene. I used my customary custom thick leather paddle—my scene ender—and I laid into Lizzie’s bottom until she was nearly levitating off the table. Then it was over. And I was holding her and stroking her hair and telling her she had taken it so well.

And afterward, as we rode on to our hotel (we were staying out of town for the weekend), Lizzie told me she felt more calm and centered and less scattered and stressed than she had in weeks. She got what she needed.
But I wasn’t in a good emotional place to be pushed too far; things have just been too stressful. And our weekend getaway wasn’t the sort of travel that begs for a delicious afterglow.

Last week, I wanted “to feel our connection.” Things have been incredibly hectic recently. We’ve both traveled, unfortunately at different times to different locations. We are buying a house. We’re preparing to empty-nest in a major way - with one child headed off to college and the other child and grandchild looking for their own place. In the midst of all that chaos, I was feeling a bit adrift.

Even as I described this to Craig, I wasn’t sure I was doing a very good job. Craig often reminds me that he cannot read my mind, but he makes a pretty good show of it at times.

When it came time to play, we settled on a more private room at the Lair. Not an entirely closed off room, of course, but not our usual table in the center of the main room.

We started with our usual OTK. That’s a position that always makes me feel connected to Craig. It’s comfortable and intimate. He even used the hairbrush* on me.

It felt like a very hard, very long scene to me…but Craig told me afterwards that it had been neither particularly hard nor long, at least compared to our other scenes. But it was a challenging scene.

Instead of falling into the yummy endorphins that lead me to subspace, I stayed very much in the scene. It hurt! But the pain forced me to trust Craig. Well, that or jump off the table and run away. I wasn’t restrained. I think that, choosing to trust him, made the scene incredibly powerful and, in fact, exactly what I needed.

*I love (to hate) the hairbrush. The Kent brush has a particular feel that nothing else replicates - it’s both thuddy and stingy. But Craig doesn’t usually use it. I don’t think he likes it nearly as much as I do.

Thursday, April 3, 2014

Flash Fucktion

First Time for Everything Panty Wars
"I'm ready," she said, just a little breathlessly. She had imagined this day for years. Likely since she was a kid, but it seemed like always to her. She yearned to be spanked, had harangued neighbor kids when she was young into awkward scenarios growing up that eventually led her to being punished. She even had put binder clips on her nipples once and had caused one to bleed. That had scared her and she didn't like inflicting the pain on herself, so she had stopped that.

Now, finding an older man she liked and trusted, she was finally able to submit to her desires and was about to receive her first real spanking.

"You sure?" he asked, kindly. There was nothing sexual in their dynamic, but she could see the glint in his eye and wondered if it was just his eagerness to hurt her "virgin" bottom or if he was simply perving on getting her athletic body across his lap. Or both. She nodded that she was.
“Are those new panties?”

She spun in a circle as she stepped out of her closet, the skirt of her dress falling into place over the questioned item of clothing.

“I haven’t seen them before, are they new?” he repeated his question, refusing to be distracted by her outfit or her twirls.

“I’m sure you’ve seen them,” she hedged.

“No,” he caught her wrist and pulled her close, “Don’t start. Are they new?”

“I, um, I haven’t worn them before.”

“So how would I, no, I’m not going down that rabbit hole today. Did you buy them after I told you no more panties?”
He sat down on the sofa, taking her wrist in his hand and gently pulling her across his lap. He felt her tense up. "It's okay." Hushed voice. He pulled her to him, his left arm on her hip. He felt her tense again, suck in air. "Hey, hey, hey. It's okay. I'm not going to rape you, I'm just going to beat your ass." It broke the ice a bit. She laughed a bit. He felt her relax by degrees. "Now I'm going to spank you over your shorts, lightly. Tell me if I go too hard." He heard a muffled, "mm-hmm."

He spanked her bottom, padded by her flannel shorts. He went cautiously, going from cheek to cheek for a few minutes, then he paused. "How's that?"

Sheepishly she replied, "You can spank harder." They both chuckled at that. He felt her relax a little more. He did indeed spank her harder. She gave out a little moan, buried her face into the paisley throw pillow next to her.

"I'm going to pull down your shorts," he said. "Just to get to your bottom so there's not so much fabric." She nodded silent consent. He was pleased to see her bottom was already a light hue of crimson. "This is going to hurt a bit more now. And I'm going to try a few different techniques to see what you like. You'll feel the difference."

He spanked her harder, and she clenched but then relaxed again, her shapely bottom becoming redder. He altered his technique, going hard and flat with his hand, then cupped to make a thuddy impact, then straightened his fingers for a sharp sting. He checked in with her constantly, but not so much that she couldn't slip into her own world--discovering her subspace for the first time.

Her bottom got redder and she breathed deeply, sinking into the sensation and pain. "You're a little masochist, aren't you?" he whispered. She nodded silently again, her face suddenly reddening like her bottom.

He stopped, gently rubbing her ass cheeks. "All done." She wasn't sure what to do, lying across his lap like a wet noodle. She felt awkward. "Just hang tight. Take your time. It's okay."

"That was...amazing," she said simply, face still full of paisley. "I want more."

"You can have more again soon," he said. "I want you to process this for a bit." He helped her to her feet then. She craned her head around to look at her bottom.

"Good grief!" she said, seeing the even redness.

"Nice, isn't it?" He gave her a crooked smile and wagged his eyebrows at her, trying his best to pantomime pervy.

"Can I have a picture?" she asked, and he pulled out his mobile to snap a photo. She looked at his screen. "Oh my god that's so hot." She gave him a devilish grin and stuck her thumbs into her panties and pulled them down. "Take another." He did.

"Thank you," she said, "for popping my kink cherry." They chuckled again. "Anytime."
Her silence condemned her. He shook his head, “You are impossible!”

Keeping his hold on her wrist, he spun her toward their bedroom, unintentionally mimicking the motion she had made flouncing out of her closet. He pushed her ahead of him, marching her toward the bed.

At the last minute, he stepped around her and sat on the bench at the foot of their bed. He used her momentum to pull her right over his lap. Without any further discussion, he swept her skirt out of the way and started spanking her bottom.

He spanked hard, until her wiggles turned into a real attempt to escape his lap. He gave her thighs a few smacks, “Settle down. If I have to restrain you, I’ll cane those thighs. And I don’t care who sees the welts.”

Her skirt was barely long enough to cover the area he had already reddened. The threat was enough to quell her movement. He spanked her for a few more minutes before pulling her to her feet.

“We aren’t finished with this discussion, young lady. But we can’t be late for our dinner reservation. No, don’t pull those up. Give them to me. You can spend dinner thinking about just how much trouble you’re in.”