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.

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