Thursday, December 17, 2015


As we careen into the Holiday Season both myself and Lizzie want to stop to say that with all the hectic gift shopping and cookie making and card signing and snow shoveling and wassail drinking and merry creating don't forget to once in a while slow down and remember what's important to you. Direct eye contact, a simple touch, a moment of submission, a quick OTK, a gentle caress—whatever you need to do to remind yourself of your relationship with your partner, lover, sub, slave, property, baby, daddy, master, dom, top, boyfriend or husband.

Oh. And back on that holiday strapping? It can be a wonderful gift, but please remember: don't wrap!

Thursday, December 10, 2015

Kink in the Middle East

As reported a few posts and more than a month ago Lizzie went with Craig for a month out of the country. There, internet censorship kept us from posting our blog, but it didn't keep us from having a good time.

We didn't pack toys because we didn't want to have our suitcases opened and inspected at the airport, but we still managed to bring in a couple of "toys"--my belt (and Lizzie's favorite strapping implement) and a wood handled hairbrush that has yet to be used to brush hair. Our trip to the Middle East brought several restrictions. Internet censorship kept us from accessing our blog and many other sites we enjoy. Cultural expectations required adjustments to my typical wardrobe. And, as Craig mentioned, Customs prevented us from bringing many toys.
We still managed to play. There were many hand spankings OTK, some right proper strappings with my belt and more than a few spankings with the hair brush. We tried some pervertables from the kitchen as well, but none of those worked all that well.

Lizzie's bottom would get red and marked up and then we'd go out into the city amongst all the locals. I'd get a kick out of surreptitiously squeezing her sore bottom once in a while.
That doesn’t mean we had a vanilla trip by any stretch of the imagination. We had fairly secluded accommodations, so we were able to play frequently at “home”. Craig made good use of his hand, his belt, and my Kent hairbrush.

I was able to continue many aspects of my service from home. I made coffee for Craig every morning and brought it to him. Our rituals ground me and help reinforce our lifestyle.
On our last weekend there, we went to a beautiful resort out in the middle of the dunes. Each room was a bungalow with a private pool. I snapped a couple of photos of Lizzie skinny dipping.

Even though we were in a land of censorship and archaic rules about women, we managed to find time for some of our own "rules," making our extended stay quite a bit more pleasant.
One weekend, we went to an amazing resort. We had a bungalow with our own private infinity edge pool. We had so much fun playing in the water together. And I think Craig had even more fun art directing pictures of me in the pool. It was a beautiful setting to reconnect away from the constant activity of the city.

We had a wonderful adventure. I got to explore a new part of the world. And we got to enjoy it together, which is perhaps the best part.

Friday, December 4, 2015


We're back from our month-long out-of-country adventure with blocked and censored internet connectivity. During that time, we missed Love Our Lurkers, our thanks to you as created by Bonnie at Now that we're back and Thanksgiving is behind us it's time for each of us to thank you, Fellow Kinkster.

We know you're out there. Our readership numbers don't lie. Google Analytics literally can't lie. Hopefully you enjoy the pics we post, but come back to read what we have to say and share and our unique blog format, our side-by-side, his-n-hers perspectives.

For three years we've been sharing with you our fiction ("Flash Fucktion" and "Picture Fiction") our perspectives on the scene, on our experiences in it and our growth as a couple and as a Dominant/submissive couple who practice 24/7. And with almost a half a million visits to the site in those three years we know you're visiting.

But you aren't commenting, Fellow Kinkster and Lurker. Regardless, we hope you're coming because we continue to interest you.

Better late than never, thanks to you all who read, look and lurk. We appreciate your interest. It certainly makes what we do rewarding.
Google Analytics tells us quite a story about how you come to our blog. Maybe you've clicked a link on a fellow spanko's blog or another kinky blog. Maybe you typed a few words into a search engine and found us - and I do hope you found what you were looking for when you got here. Maybe you've got us bookmarked to come back every week.

We'd love to hear what brought you to our blog. And we'd love to hear what brings you back, if this isn't your first time.

But we appreciate you, whether you comment or not. We know you're there. And we hope you're enjoying what you read and see here.

Thanks for stopping by today. And please, leave us a comment. We'd love to hear from you!

Wednesday, October 28, 2015


Fellow Kinksters: If you're a regular reader of our blog you know I travel pretty frequently for work. For my next trip, I'm going to be gone for almost a month and bringing Lizzie in tow. Sounds nice, right? It is. We'll be together in an exciting foreign location. But this location is one well known for it's blocking of, uhem, questionable websites and national censorship.

Because of that, we won't be posting for the next four weeks. Now, if we were smart (and really, productive) we would have written a bunch of blogs and scheduled them to post automatically. But...uh...that never happened. But we'll be back! Just in time for Turkey Day!

In the mean time, here are a few gratuitous photos of Lizzie's well-beaten bottom for you to enjoy:

Monday, October 19, 2015

Secrets and Surprises

Before our wedding, Lizzie decided that she wanted to surprise Craig with a Boudoir Book. Here is the story of how she managed to surprise him, with a few of the pictures that he’s decided to share and his side of the story.

Pictures by The Clandestine Capture. You can find her on Fetlife - here, or on Tumblr - here.

Generally, Unsurprised Preparations
You know, I’m a hard person to surprise. First of all, I buy myself what I need, so gift-giving is a challenge. I realize this. So thoughtful, unexpected gifts are a true delight to me because I can appreciate how difficult I am. Trust me, I live with me every day.

Lizzie doesn’t know this and won’t know it until she reads my side of the blog, but I had planned on buying her a birthday gift of a boudior photo shoot. As any frequent visitor of our blog can tell, she’s an exhibitionist, so I knew such a gift would be greatly appreciated and she would love the fact that she was getting boudior photos for me.

I had researched many boudior photographers and studios around town, looking for something out of the ordinary and not all “glamor shots-y”. I found a few that were even kink friendly.

That was a few months back, before we began the wedding planning in haste.
Finding the perfect photographer was simple - a kinky friend of ours is a photographer. But finding time to talk about the project was the first challenge. Kink events are too hectic to allow long discussion and the opportunity for interruption is far too high.

Adding to this challenge, I report to Craig any time I leave the house. A quick text when I’m leaving, to let him know where I’m going. A text when I get there. A text when I leave that destination telling him where I’m going next. You can imagine the problems this might present.

I decided the easiest way to handle this issue was to meet the photographer for lunch after school one day, giving us the much needed opportunity to discuss what I wanted. I simply told Craig I was having lunch after class with her. I even used her name. I did not, however, identify her as our kinky friend or our photographer friend, hoping that he would assume that I had made a friend at school with the same first name.
Life Takes Over The Real Challenge
But with the weddings (yeah, that’s plural, if you’re not a frequent reader), things got a little hectic and a bit busy and the whole boudoir photography thing kinda slipped between the cracks. Which was fine, because I still had until September until Lizzie’s birthday.

So it comes time to our second wedding, the one we had at the Monarchs Clubhouse. You can read about it HERE. The day was hectic, as all weddings are, even though this was, in most respects, pretty laid back. Still, there was a lot to do.

The wedding took place without a hitch. It was, as you may have read, a really fantastic day and a very special ceremony for us.

Right after, before the reception got into full swing, Lizzie asked me to come to the the lounge. I could see she was nervous, which made no sense to me because the nervous bit was done—we were married! But out of no where she produced a gift.

“What’s this?” I pondered. Then I got worried. “I didn’t get her anything!” I thought, even as I was looking down at her engagement ring. I opened the small present and found a box. Slipping the lid off the box was a small, square, thick book that looked expensive. What could it be?

I opened the book. Inside were photos of Lizzie! Beautiful, artfully shot photos. Some in black and white. Some in color. Close-ups, skillfully framed shots. “Is this one of those Instagram books?” I asked, because I had just seen online how you could “hit print” on your Instagram photos and convert them into a photo book. Obviously, I was flummoxed and overwhelmed.

“No, it’s a story...look!” Lizzie urged. The photos played out like a day-in-the-life. (More like a day-in-the-life if you were a Playboy Playmate!) It was adorable. It was sexy. It was beautiful. It was stunning!

Lizzie, by her own admission, doesn’t photograph well. She always is a bit stiff and awkward if she sees the camera. I’ve worked with her on this and she’s improved dramatically. If you’re “friends” of ours on our vanilla Facebook you can see that for yourself.
After some discussion, we decided that it would be best to take pictures at the house. This would be a natural environment for me, where I feel comfortable. And I would have all my clothing and costumes available.

TheClandestine came to visit one afternoon, to discuss more options and survey the locations to take pictures. This is when we encountered the real problem that is the “Internet of Things” that makes up my home.

The challenge starts at the front door. Our doorbell is equipped with a camera and alerts both Craig and I when the doorbell is engaged. We can watch video of the person standing outside the door, on our phones, from anyplace in the world.

I had to ask TheClandestine to text me when she arrived so I could meet her in the street. Before we raced past the doorbell camera, I warned her that we also have a DropCam in the house. We were in the middle of the deck construction project at the house, so the camera was currently aimed outside, at the deck. (Having workmen on the deck, with our large windows to the deck from several rooms, was another special challenge.)

But the camera was a new toy, which Craig liked to check in on during the day when he had a free moment. He had recently seen my reflection in the window as I passed and texted to ask what I was doing flitting back and forth so often. Another day, he turned on the microphone and asked what show I was watching because he couldn’t tell from the sound of it. So I knew that he was watching frequently, and at least occasionally listening as well.

We gave the camera a wide berth each time TheClandestine came to take pictures. I turned on music in the house, to cover the sound of our footsteps and quiet discussions. We took the long way through the house to avoid having our reflections show in the window.

We took ordinary, expected precautions as well. TheClandestine would walk through the house after each shoot to make sure she had gathered all her equipment and any signs that she’d been in the house. I tucked away the outfits we had used for the pictures.
Agog The Reveal
But there was none of that here. She seemed at ease. At times, candid—like the photographer caught her in a private joke. The smiles weren’t forced, the expressions not stiff. These beautiful pictures captured Lizzie in a way I had never seen before and it was amazing.

Most amazingly, I didn’t have a single fucking clue. Not even a tiny inkling. She had pulled a HUGE one over on me. I didn’t know she was being photographed IN OUR OWN HOME. I was utterly oblivious.

Which was fantastic.

I was surprised, thrilled, overjoyed and touched. The book was beautiful, so skillfully and artfully shot, so well put together and printed. I was in tears. Then I showed it to everyone within reach.

What an incredible gift.

TheClandestine has always been a nice person I’ve enjoyed chatting with and I had assumed she was a talent: I’d seen her with a camera before. But this? This was too much. Is it strange I adore TheClandestine because her incredible talent and creativity created such an incredible thing? But Lizzie...oh, that’s the topper. She totally snuck that book under all my radars. And for that, she has my utter and constant admiration tenfold. Damn, I love that girl.
I saw the book the night before the wedding. TheClandestine brought it to my bachelorette party with the girls. But she took it back with her, as I couldn’t be sure that I could keep it a secret and get it to the ceremony. I was more than thrilled with the results. She had managed to capture me in so many wonderful and unexpected ways. I’m not terribly comfortable in front of the camera, but you’d never know that from the pictures.

As it happened, TheClandestine shot our wedding as well. Even as she took pictures of me getting ready for the wedding, I wasn’t certain when I would present the book to Craig. Her partner ended up keeping the book on hand during the ceremony so I would be able to get it with a moment’s notice.

After the ceremony, we retreated to the dressing room to sign the wedding certificate. TheClandestine was along to take pictures. We exchanged a look and she got the book. After we finished signing the necessary paperwork, I surprised Craig with the book. As an added bonus, TheClandestine was able to take photos of his reaction.

I really could not be more pleased with the results of this effort. And see? I can still keep a secret! And even manage a surprise!

Tuesday, September 29, 2015

Our Shadow Lane Report, Part 2

Traditionally, Craig and I plan one “special” scene when we are going to Shadow Lane. When we first started playing together, this would have involved intricate negotiation, usually to try something new or different or push a particular limit. For this party, I had written Craig a story that inspired the scene he planned. Below you can read the story I wrote (on my side) and the scene as it took place on Craig’s side.

I’m sure you’ll notice significant differences, but the reason we’ve decided to share both is to show an example of how our “story negotiation” can work. I don’t like to write a SCRIPT for a scene. Instead, I like to write a story that gives Craig a glimpse of the headspace where my fantasies are at currently or to inspire a potential scene.

Our Scene (as told by Craig) A Little Story (as written by Lizzie)
Sunday, after breakfast, we enjoyed a littles scene. Lizzie dressed up quite pretty in braids, a black and white dress, frilly socks and shiny black leather shoes. I set her up in the living room with a sticker activity book and went to the bedroom to get organized. After a bit I called sternly for Lizzie to join me in the bedroom. She had purchased a copy of Cassandra's book, My First Spanking, an anthology, the day before and I used it as a prop for our scene.

"I found this under your bed when I was cleaning your messy room, young lady!" I scolded. "You read spanking stories?" Sheepishly Lizzie replied she had. "And it does it make you tingly down here?" I pointed between her legs. "Yes, Daddy." And so it began.

First, I took her across my knee to punish her for being such a naughty girl. I pulled out of hiding a leather nanny paddle, followed by Lizzie's (loved and dreaded) hair brush. After she was near tears and her bottom sufficiently reddened, I marched her into the bathroom and told her she was going to have to have an enema to "clean her out." She looked embarrassed and horrified.

I made a point of taking my time going through all the preparations getting the enema kit ready, then hung the bag and hose in the shower and then bent her over the bathtub and spanked her again. Then I grabbed her by the wrist to lead her into the shower.

I filled her with water, ordering her to keep it in, then marched her back to the bathroom where I spanked her again and then stood her in front of the mirror. I stood behind her and pressed myself against her bottom, then reached around and fingered her shaved pussy.

"Do those stories make you feel like this?" I growled, furiously rubbing her clit. "Yes, Daddy! Please stop!" I did not stop. I asked her why she wanted me to stop if it felt good. "I don't...I don't want to leak!" she said, clenching her cheeks together. "If you leak, you'll leak on my pants and then you will be in some rather serious trouble!" She cried and whimpered until she came, then I allowed her to go into the water closet to relieve herself.
“I don’t want to!”

He stared at her for a long moment. She was sitting on the floor, refusing, of all things, to make them drinks. She rolled over onto her stomach and hid her face in her arms. As negotiated tantrums go, this one was certainly a bit odd. But it was enough that he caught on.

He reached down and grabbed her wrist, pulling her to her feet. Without a word, he marched into their bedroom and deposited her on the bed.

“The only reasonable explanation for my baby girl acting like this is that she’s sick,” he mused aloud, rummaging in the bedside drawer for the thermometer.

She wailed and hid her face again, burying it in the pillow. He ignored her and pulled down her pajama shorts. She squirmed to get away from him, but he held her in place with an arm around her hips.

“No, daddy!”

“You don’t get to tell me no, young lady. Hold still now.”

She stopped struggling against him, but she still wiggled when the thermometer slid into her bottom. He simply spread her cheeks in response, exposing the area to his gaze and causing her to settle right now. She pushed her face further into the pillow, embarrassed by this exposure.

“Perfectly normal,” he announced after a minute, “Which means someone needs a serious attitude adjustment.”

He lifted her hips, pulling her into an all fours position. “Scoot closer to the edge of the bed, little one. And turn so your feet are off the bed.”

She made a little sound of disagreement, but she did as she was told, adjusting so that her bottom was lifted and positioned as if begging for his attention.

“So smooth and white,” he said, stroking her bottom, “But not for long. Don’t you worry.”

She moaned and slipped her thumb into her mouth.
I stood there, arms crossed, watching her. She hid her face, embarrassed, as she released her water. When she was sufficiently empty I spanked her once more, then returned her to the shower and filled her again, spanked her again, then had her release in the toilet before spanking her again.

At last, she was shaking and in tears, so I put a plug into her bottom and bent her over the bathtub one last time, dropping my pants. "That little tingly pussy is mine," I said, ramming my cock into her and thrusting, feeling the bulb of the plug against my cock. A few minutes later I came hard, gently cleaned her up with a warm wash rag and, leaving the plug in her bottom, had her lie on the bed where I put a pair of pull-ups diapers on her.

I tucked her into bed, kissing her gently and telling her she was a good girl and that she was now forgiven for reading that "horrible smut." Lizzie took a short nap then.

After, we decided to head home a day early. I had been gone on business overseas for 10 days, had spent a night at home before leaving for Vegas and I really wanted to just get home and relax. Not to mention, the bumper-to-bumper drive from Vegas to LA on Monday from the holiday weekend was sure to be even worse because of construction on the Cajon Pass.

We arrived at home late evening Sunday night and relaxed with a pizza, thrilled to be home after having an amazing weekend with good friends at the very party we first met.

It's amazing some six and a half years later how much has changed, how far we've gone and how we still have a wonderful set of genuine friends that mean so much to us. Thank you all for being so great and being a part of our lives.
“We’ll start with a good, solid, paddling.”

She kicked her feet, but he ignored her as we went about getting out the paddle he wanted to use. He returned to her side, taking up the long, smooth, wooden paddle.

“Fifty of these. I want you to count them.” He ordered as he wrapped one arm loosely around her waist and tapped the paddle against her bottom with his other hand.

He swung the paddle hard. This wasn’t a warm up. He wanted to push her quickly into the scene, emphasizing her helplessness. And he wanted to challenge her with keeping the position.

She counted each swat carefully, grunting and moaning at each impact. After a dozen swats, she let the momentum push her out of position and she flopped onto the bed.

“Young lady! Get back up here.” He growled, waiting impatiently for her to push herself back up into position. He set the paddle against her bottom, “You can start the count over.”

“No, please daddy!”

He gave her bottom a swat. When she said nothing, he prompted, “Don’t you want that one to count?”

“One,” she forced the word out.

At thirty-eight, he paused and rubbed her bottom for a moment. “You know we’d be done now, right? If you’d been a good girl and stayed in position?”

She could only nod, tears already streaking her face.

“But you didn’t, did you?”

“No, daddy.”

He gave her bottom a squeeze, eliciting a squeal from her. “Hurts, does it?”

“Yes, daddy.”

“Not nearly as much as it will before I’m finished with you, little one.”

She moaned and bit her thumb. His hand slid from her bottom to her back. “Okay. You stay in position and I’ll count. Don’t make me start over again!”

With each swat her bottom trembled, clenching and unclenching as she struggled to deal with the pain inflicted by the paddle. Her bottom was past red, having gone white in the areas of the heaviest impact. He knew there would be bruises tomorrow, but she would feel those bruises already.

With the last swat, he let her flop onto the bed for a few minutes while he gathered what he needed from the kitchen. But all too soon, he returned and urged her to her feet.

“Do you know what happens to naughty little girls?”

“They get spanked?” she asked, her voice still a little shaky from the paddling she had already gotten.

“That’s only the tip of the iceberg, little one. You’re getting a full attitude adjustment tonight.” He grabbed her arm and pulled her through the hall to the bathroom. There, he pushed her to face the wall and urged her down onto her knees.

“Hands behind your head,” he ordered, “And your nose against the wall. Be glad I haven’t given you a nickel to hold in place.”

He returned to the bedroom to get the enema kit. He settled into the routine of preparing to give her an enema, only glancing occasionally in the mirror to see her still in place on her knees behind him. He folded a towel and spread it on the floor. He pulled the stool from her vanity and set it in place beside the towel. Only when everything was ready did he return to her. She was shaking just a bit, with nerves or the after effects of the harsh paddling he had already given her.

“Come over here now, little one. I want you in the same position, but on the towel.”

She knelt on the towel, giving him a curious look over her shoulder.

“No, the position you were in on the bed.”

She sniffled and leaned forward onto her forearms. “Do you have to, Daddy?”

“Hush now, little one. You’re going to take all this water and get all the naughtiness right out of you.”

After two enemas, he gave her extra time to sit and let the water out while he cleaned up the enema kit.

“Get it all out,” he growled at her, knowing how futile the command was even as he gave it. “You’re not going to want to start over too many times on this next part.”

She watched him prepare a ginger plug with some horror, as “this next part” became apparent. He also retrieved his favorite cane, balancing it on the side of the bathtub.

“Let me clean you up, little one.”

Hesitantly, she bent over and let him use a wipe on her bottom. She’d already done the same, of course, but he carefully spread her cheeks and made sure the area was clean. She protested with a quiet, “But daddy!”

He ignored her complaints and bent her over the side of the bath tub. He slid the ginger plug into place, ignoring her whimpers at this intrusion. He picked up the cane.

Once everything was in place, he quietly explained the rules. Fifty strokes with the cane, which she would count. Once again, the count would restart if she got out of position or asked to use the toilet.

This made for a harsh, lengthy scene. As he expected, she had to request a couple breaks as the last of the water made its demand. Each time, he removed the ginger and shaved it slightly to expose a fresh layer for maximum burn. Each time, he insisted on cleaning her, exposing her clenching bottom hole to his inspection. By the time she made it to fifty, her bottom was a mass of welts covering the bruises from the earlier paddling. To say she was contrite would be an understatement.

Tuesday, September 15, 2015

Our Shadow Lane Report, Part 1

We missed Shadow Lane last year, but we were able to make it back for this year's festivities.

This year, Shadow Lane organizers decided to change up the party, charge less for entry and eliminate any formal events/dinners other than suite parties and suite-based vendor offerings, etc. So we had our suite at the hotel but didn't do much in terms of organized activities, though we rarely do regardless.

For us, Shadow Lane has been about socializing with good friends and getting alone time to enjoy some intense scenes. This party wasn't much different.

I arrived from business in the Middle East back to Los Angeles on the Thursday before Labor Day Weekend. This is typically the start of the party in Vegas, but I was in no condition to land, go home and pack, then drive four + hours to Vegas. So we decided to sleep in our own bed Thursday night then head out to Vegas Friday.

We arrived late Friday afternoon and instantly made plans to have dinner with our friends Michael & Kate, Glenn and Lori and others. That was a lovely way to start the weekend. I was exhausted and jetlagged (a terrible way to start the weekend!) so we went back to the hotel, hung out at a suite party of Lizzie's friend Merlin and after she played we returned to our suite to chat. Before too long it was 1 am and I was literally falling asleep in my chair.

Of course, because of the jetlag, I awoke at 6 am wide-eyed. Terrible. We shared a suite with SpankCake, so Lizzie and I were quiet in getting up and heading to breakfast because we didn't want to wake her (or her friend who was borrowing the other bed in her room for temporarily). We ran out and got supplies because SpankCake had arranged a wedding reception for our spanko friends.
I don’t feel like I can say much about Shadow Lane’s new format, because we did very much what we always do - we caught up with friends, went out to eat with various groups of friends, visited friends in their own suites, and had our usual “date night”. I won’t recount all of that, because Craig has done a very nice job of that on his side of the blog. This year, we had the added bonus of hosting a wedding reception.

Actually, we have SpankCake to thank for the reception - she did all the work and made it a truly special occasion. She took care of invitations and all of the planning. She even brought all the decorations from L.A. to Vegas and transformed our suite into a purple dream, complete with candelabras, table cloths, and floating candles. She made so many decorations that I overheard a few of our guests ask if she did party-planning for a living! (She totally could - she’s simply amazing!)

She ordered a wonderful cake, too. But the best part: she made a cake topper of me over Craig’s knee, with my skirt raised and my bottom red, just how I love to be!

It was a special and wonderful event for us. Craig and I met six and a half years ago, at the St. Patrick’s Day Shadow Lane, so the party holds a special place in our heart. We were joined by a number of friends, mostly those we met in our first year in the spanking scene. It was fun to celebrate once more with friends who hadn’t been able to make it to our wedding.

Many of our friends shared stories of their first memories of meeting Craig and I, or other memorable stories from parties over the years.
Six and a half years earlier, Lizzie and I met for the first time at the March Shadow Lane party (the last one they organized). Many of our good friends in the lifestyle we met at that Shadow Lane or subsequent parties that same year (Florida Moonshine, Boardwalk Badness Weekend). With SpankCake's generous organizational skills and Martha Stewart-like prowess, we soon had a dozen friends attending our little soirée.

Michael & Kate, Glenn & Lori, Erica & John, Brad, Cody & Nisha, Katy-Lynn & R, Rad & Sandy, Indy, SpankCake and Lizzie and I filled the living room in our suite, surrounded by amazing decorations made and transported to Vegas by SpankCake. The purple motif, Lizzie's favorite color, made the party perfect. But the icing on the cake (literally!) was the beautiful purple and white cake SpankCake arranged to have made and delivered to our hotel, the pièce de résistance being the custom cake topper of Lizzie and I that SpankCake had crafted herself. Incredible!

I gave a little speech thanking everyone for coming and for being important to both of us in each way. They were there when we met, when we became play partners, when we eventually fell in love and when we made our partnership official and Lizzie moved in with me. We wanted them to be a part of sharing our marriage celebration, too.

It was truly a wonderful event and I just gotta thank SpankCake once again for pulling off a really special afternoon.
It was so fun to hear those stories. We’ve made so many wonderful memories with friends that we’ve met in the spanking community. These friends will always hold a special place in my heart.

Those memories were also a bit of a contrast to something else I heard frequently during the rest of the party. Several people mentioned to me that they were glad to see us back “from our break from the scene.” It’s the oddest thing to me. I didn’t realize we had taken a break from the scene, even the spanking scene.

It’s true that we missed Shadow Lane last year. If I remember correctly, we were moving Craig’s youngest son to college that weekend. We’ve missed other spanking parties as well, due to conflicts in schedule or other travel plans. Craig and I have taken advantage of our “empty nest” and traveled together whenever possible. And, of course, I went back to school. The fashion program I’m enrolled in is intensively hands-on, allowing little room for missed classes. But I never saw those circumstances as “taking a break from the scene.”

But perhaps I can see how it might look that way to others. At least with regard to the spanking scene. I doubt anyone would think we had taken a break from the wider kink scene, considering the number of local events we attend and the activities we participate in.

Whatever you’d like to call the missed parties, it was nice to be back at Shadow Lane. It was great to spend time with friends and catch up, as it always is.
Afterward, Lizzie and I rushed to change to head out on a "date." When Shadow Lane was a more organized affair, Saturday night was a theme dinner and because of Lizzie's food allergies there would be literally nothing she could eat, so we would always go out to dinner. I love traditions, so we ended up at an amazing steakhouse in the MGM Grand, followed by going to see Cirque's . Always a hell of a show, but once again, because of the jetlag, I could hardly keep my eyes open.

Somewhere amidst all that, Lizzie and I managed a spanking and a scene in there.

We got back and dropped onto the bed, utterly exhausted.
And I must include a special thanks to SpankCake for making the weekend such a special occasion. The decorations were amazing. The cake topper can’t be topped (check out the close up). And the gathering of friends was incredibly special and wonderful for all of us.

I don’t know what the next year will bring - travel, Craig’s work, and my classes will undoubtedly take up much of our time. But I hope we will find the time to catch our friends at events through the year.

Thursday, September 3, 2015

"Treasure" Chest

We've had scenes before where we dug into the storage chest. This is the chest of the less-than-favorite implements—the wayward ones, the ones too big for my rolling bag, the ones we don't like or use, and the ones we plan on getting rid of at a kinky rummage sale some day.

I had planned for a rather intense scene on the weekend, something where I could push Lizzie a bit. We were leaving the next day on a flight out of the country and I know how much she relishes and cherishes it when her bottom is so sore and she can't get out of the seated situation. can imagine where my head was at.

I placed Lizzie on the bed and opened the chest. "What are you doing?" she asked. "Opening the treasure chest!" The chest is divided into three layers of stacking storage boxes, so I began with the top layer which held mostly wood paddles, rubbery paddles and rods and other assorted implements.

The scene began typically enough...I warmed her bottom with my hand, then moved on to the implements, which I'd pull out two or three at a time. The top layer alone featured some 15 implements or so, each used on Lizzie a few dozen times before moving on.

"Now I know why these implements are in the chest," Lizzie muttered at one point. One particular implement—I don't even know what it's called it's so odd—is really hard to handle and control and thus I found it wrapping into her naughty bits more than once. I tossed it aside in frustration. "This is no 'treasure' chest," Lizzie announced.
Craig told me we were going to do a “Treasure Chest” scene. Knowing that he referred to the cedar chest in our bedroom that organizes a variety of toys, I joked that perhaps he meant a “Pleasure Chest” scene. I couldn’t have been further from the mark.

When I moved out to California, I outfitted the cedar chest with plastic bins to organize our toys. Under the six bins, two lengths of wood keep the bins above a long space for our longer toys - such as canes and floggers. In theory, the bins organize our toys into different groups. But in practice, I'm not sure what's going on in there.

But even now that we are empty nesters, the reality is that we still have a majority of our heavy scenes when we’re out at play parties. So Craig’s preferred set of implements is stored in his travel bag - a big roll-along bag that we take to parties. That means the chest is a collection of forgotten and all but discarded toys.

Craig started the scene by restraining my wrists and ankles with rope to our bed. This didn’t last the entire scene. Early on, the stress of the position was too much for my previous injured shoulder. He released hand when I told him of the problem. A bit later, the adjusted position started to put a ton of pressure on my other elbow, so he did away with the restraints entirely. Unfortunately, we didn’t manage to take any pictures while I was restrained.
But the scene moved onto the second layer, which, lucky for Lizzie, is mostly restraints, ropes and other things not so easily applied to back or leg or bottom. So layer two went rather quickly. Layer three is a long compartment along the bottom of the chest and is where all the auxiliary, ancillary and unloved canes have gone.

I took to smacking, whacking and all around caning Lizzie's red, marked (and bleeding!) bottom. But Lizzie wasn't having it. It was too much. And it wasn't that the whacking was too much, it was more the odd outcast implements were too much. There's a reason why many of those implements are in the chest. I thought it would be sadistic to torture her with them.

And it was.

But it was time to stop. I tossed the ragtag lexan, bent wood and rubber canes aside and held a weeping Lizzie in my arms, letting her know that she was a good girl, that she was very brave and that she had taken a lot of 'punishment' at my desire to open up that dreadful "treasure" chest.

Next time—which will be soon at Shadow Lane—I'll return to the rolling bag of favorite, beloved and gently worn implements that make us both very, very happy.
I can’t remember all the complaints I have about the implements in that chest. But I can assure you that it is neither a “Treasure” Chest nor a “Pleasure” Chest at this point. It’s not that the implements themselves are necessarily bad. I think it’s a matter of how we typically play and the things we like to do. Most of these items don’t fit with that.

Although I disliked the implements used, it was still a great scene. Craig struck the right balance of intensity, torture, and consideration. And, of course, it did make our international flight the next day so much more fun!

Even so, I'm really looking forward to our trip to Shadowlane with the traveling bag of toys that we enjoy. I know we will have plenty of opportunities to play. And I know we will have left all of these non-preferred toys at home!

But the scene did remind me that we really need to go through our toys. Maybe I can convince Craig to sit down and reorganize everything soon. We can do a give-away for our readers or something. Help a girl out - help me convince him? :)

Sunday, August 16, 2015

Picture Fiction

It's been a while since we wrote some fiction, so—as we like to do—we picked some photos of Lizzie and then each wrote a story to go along with the pics. Enjoy!

An Evening Surprise Suggestions
When she came back from lunch to the office she found flowers on her desk. He sent her flowers! At work! What a surprise. Some of the other girls in the office were looking at her as she admired them. It made her blush a little bit. There was the tiny white envelope with the florist name on it, but when she opened it there was no typical card inside. Instead, there was a note, folded neatly inside.

“Meet me at my place at 6 pm. Wear the black dress and the expensive black lingerie.” There was no signature but she knew who sent it.

When she arrived at his house, he was wearing a black t-shirt and black jeans and was barefoot. He looked at his watch. It was 5:58. “A hair early,” he teased. “You are being soooo ’50 Shades’ right now,” she teased back, rolling her eyes, but she looked really surprised when he took her to the bedroom and she saw the room covered in candles. “What’s this?”

“A little surprise. Something different from our typical spankings-and-dinner.” He had an evil glint in his eye that made her pussy tingle. “Come with me.” He led her to the bed and began to kiss her. As he kissed her he placed his hands on her shoulders and slowly moved down to her wrists, pulling them behind her. Without missing a beat, he eased her back onto the bed, turning her over and unzipping her dress. He gently pulled it off her, exposing her beautiful lingerie, and he ran his hand across the lace, tracing his fingers down the exposed flesh of her legs, the curve of her bottom, the small of her back.

He took an arm then and pulled it up to attach to the hidden restraints he had attached to the bedposts. She submitted without a sound or complaint. He repeated the process with her ankles. Spread eagle and restrained, he ran a fur mitt over her body, awakening her skin to the texture and sensation. Then he put on vampire gloves and began to gently touch her skin, pressing down ever so slightly so the tiny pins felt both surprising and at times like fire where she was most sensitive.

Her skin tingling from the stimulation, he retrieved a flogger with medium length suede falls and began to flog her back, her bottom and her legs. At first, she felt the texture as if another chapter in his sensation play, but has he swung the flogger with a greater intensity, it turned into a sort of massage. But has he struck her with it more and more—and she began to hear him breathing heavier either from the exertion or his own excitement, she wasn’t sure which—the massage turned to a thudding sort of full body beating. She began to slip away into the rhythm of the moment when he suddenly stopped and yanked the expensive lingerie off her prone body.
She ran to meet him at the door. He engulfed her in a tight hug, setting his briefcase on the floor.

“Do you know what I want to do tonight?” The words were whispered, his lips brushing her ear with the words.

“Mmmm?” She asked, her face buried in his neck.

His hand slid down her back to her bottom. He cupped one cheek and gave it a squeeze.

“A sound strapping, I think.” He punctuated the words with another squeeze of her bottom. Then he took a step back, his other hand roaming down the front of her body. He gave her breasts a squeeze as his hand slid over them, but his goal was further down. His hand slipped under the hem of her dress and back up her thigh.

“And I’ll finish here, of course.”

She moaned, a sound that indicated only the slightest distress combined with a stronger desire.

“Yes,” he leaned forward to whisper the word in her ear once again, teasing with the promise as well as the sensation.

He took her hand and led her to the bedroom to do just that. . . .

Nude, he began to paddle her bottom back and forth, again and again, until the pain became both exquisite and unbearable and she began to tense up as it ramped up and up. Just as she was about to cry out, he stopped, sensing her near her limit, and switched to a thin, carbon fiber cane. The sensation change from thuddy to whippy was surprising to her. This went on with various implements until she did cry, didcry out as her bottom reddened more and more. Once again, when she felt she couldn’t take any more, he stopped.

"Get on all fours," he said, unzipping his pants and releasing his hardened cock. "Yessir," she whispered, awaiting what she craved next.

Later, she stood in front of his full-length mirror and examined the marks on her bottom, a new, clean pair of luxurious panties on, and rubbed her bottom as she admired what he had done...and smiled.
“Get dressed and I’ll take you out to dinner,” he said, pulling her off the bed.

She clung to him when she got to her feet, too dizzy to stand on her own. After a moment, she murmured, “Thank you, sir.”

A few minutes later, he caught her standing in front of the mirror, dressed only in her underwear.

“You might want a bit more than that for dinner, love.”

She jumped, then turned to give him a sheepish look.

“Sorry. I’ll be ready in just a minute.”

“Take as long as you need.”

Sunday, July 26, 2015

Loving the Littles

We've discovered our littles relationship a few years ago now. Like so many things in the lifestyle it continues and evolves...

And SpankCake has written about our adventures here: Flipping SpankCakes

A Littles Day Out Finding Build-a-Bear
We don't get to indulge in the littles play very often, even though it's such a core aspect of Lizzie's identity. I mean, we have our daily things: putting her to bed and tucking her in, reading her a Berenstain Bears book (okay, not every night), and her calling me "daddy" almost constantly. But Lizzie doesn't get to dress up and really be her little all that often.

Last weekend, SpankCake and Lizzie wanted a littles day. It was raining, so it seemed like the perfect opportunity since we couldn't do much else. Lizzie and SpankCake got ready to go. We got in the car and drove out to Build-a-Bear. The girls strolled through the shop deciding what bears they wanted and what outfits they were going to get. Lizzie was getting a bear for herself and we were going to make up a leather biker bear for Strange's birthday present. SpankCake was getting two bears, one to represent me and another to represent Lizzie so when she went to sleep at home she could sleep with us, even when we weren't there.

The girls got more than one interested glance at their outfits and a few compliments from the girls working in the shop. It was kind of funny to see the attention they were getting. Only one housefrau gave the girls and sour look. Let me just say: they took forever picking everything out and getting their bears stuffed (and no, that's not an euphemism).

We were going to see Inside Out after that, but it turns out everyone else decided to go to the movies, too, so we grabbed dinner, headed home and I gave both little girls much needed spankings. They hadn't been bad. I just felt like it.
It’s not yet been a year since we attended our first littles’ event - LittleSpace at Disneyland (which you can read about here). We haven’t had many other opportunities to really immerse ourselves in littles play outside of the house. So it was a unique experience to dress up with SpankCake and have Craig take us out for the afternoon.

I’m a masochist and a submissive as well, of course, but little space is an important aspect for me. For me, my little side has a close tie to my submissive side. Things like asking permission to do something, following a bedtime, and doing as I’m told play into both aspects. We incorporate many of those in our daily lives.

But going out was a very special treat. SpankCake had the wonderful idea to go to Build-a-Bear. And she helped me do my hair, which is always a struggle for me. I think I primarily identify a little younger than she does (neither of us are really set on a particular age), so it’s fun to have a sister’s help.

I’ve never been to Build-a-Bear before. Now I’m really not sure why I waited! We had such a wonderful time there. I got to pick out a bear and I named her Princess. We had a really wonderful time being out and being ourselves.

We also got more comments on our outfits than in any other outing in my life! There were comments and questions at Build-a-Bear, which wasn’t totally unexpected. We were totally immersed in our little space there. But we stopped at BevMo on the way home, and a lady in line complimented SpankCake and I on how nice we looked! So strange. But really such a wonderful time.

Monday, July 13, 2015

Family, "Family", and the Farm

Once again, we can't make it two weeks in a row with our blog. Since our legal, lifestyle marriage on June 20 I went out of town to the east coast on business, came back for 36 hours, then left again, bringing my new bride in tow back with me to the east coast. No, it wasn't our honeymoon. That comes later. It was a 'working vacation" and Lizzie's first trip to New York City. After that, we went to her family farm to celebrate the Fourth of July.

Not only were we going to the farm for the Fourth of July, but SpankCake was joining us for the weekend. Recently we have not only been doing more and more with her but I have invited her to become a part of my House, making us a triad. It was awesome that she decided to pack a small bag and come hang out on the farm.

In the past, Lizzie's farm house is a place of respite. It's quiet, relaxing and isolated (the nearest neighbor is a mile away)—meaning it's perfect for play. We have enjoyed many a noisy scene over the years in that home and I thought it would be great to do so again with both SpankCake and Lizzie. But my plans were not to be.
The Fourth of July at the farm is always a big, hectic family event. The farm is isolated, but my farm house there is not. My parents and my older brother both have houses on the homestead. And my oldest sister is one of my closest neighbors - her house is just a mile and a half away.

My little brother (and family) spent the holiday weekend next door, at my parent’s house. And even though my other sister only came down on the Fourth, two of her kids are old enough to drive and the third was quick enough to catch a ride to the farm with us when we went to pick up SpankCake from the airport.
You see, the week before our legal, lifestyle marriage was our vanilla family marriage. You can read about that in our last post here. Unfortunately, what I didn't understand when we got married was that I also adopted about 30 new relatives. Now, none of them are new to me. I've hung out, drank, ate, vacationed with the lot of them for the past few years, but evidently the getting married thing meant only one thing: WE ARE ALL HANGING OUT WITH YOU...ALL THE TIME. Admittedly, I have a rather enormous immediate family. I would not, however, say that they all were hanging out with us all the time. The real problem was that there was never a time when no one wanted to hang out with us.

An even bigger problem: the entire under-18 set has not yet mastered the art of knocking, asking for an invitation to visit, or even asking for an invitation to spend the night. So that's special fun.
From the moment we arrived to the house we had company (and that didn't include SpankCake). The first night we had an uninvited sleepover. Same with the second night. People came and went without knocking. It's all fine—I love Lizzie's family, but the utter lack of privacy meant our plans of play and/or sex went out the window.

I worried SpankCake would be disappointed she had flown from LA to the midwest only to enjoy fireworks and home smoked BBQ and not the palm of my hand on her smooth bottom. But she admitted she had a blast getting to know Lizzie's family, seeing where Lizzie grew up and having a pyrotastic time shooting off about $1000 with of fireworks with the men.
But in the past, our trips to the farm for the Fourth have included a number of Craig’s kids (who were living at home with us at the time). The combination of coming from an empty nest at home and the inviting number of free beds at our house made this quite a shock for both of us.

Still, I was thrilled to have SpankCake join us at the farm for the weekend. I know everyone enjoyed meeting her and I hope she’ll be able to come for a longer visit next time. If we take a longer trip, the novelty of our visit might wear off enough to give us a few nights alone. Okay, realistically, we might manage one night of privacy. But we should be able to coordinate a solo trip on the fourwheelers, allowing us the opportunity to play outside - one of my favorite things to do.
Still, we managed to get a little time for some spanking in (unfortunately most of it after SpankCake had to return home at the end of the weekend). My favorite moments of the weekend?

• SpankCake setting off fireworks with the glee of an adolescent
• Giving Lizzie a Skeleton Hand in the car
• An amazing thunderstorm (we don't get interesting weather in LA)

It was a wonderful, relaxing weekend, but as my new kink family couldn't really find a way to enjoy ourselves because of my new vanilla family I guess we'll just have to plan another trip to the farm...
We didn’t get quite as much play this year. For more of our outdoor adventures on the farm, look back at this post. But we did find a couple opportunities to play after the holiday.

And, of course, it was wonderful to spend some time with my family and SpankCake. But I do hope we can plan another trip together soon. Perhaps to someplace without marauding nieces and nephews.