Dear Santa

Dear Santa,
I know I have been oh so naughty this year (and every year) but I am hoping you can see past the shin kicking, tongue out sticking, rope tying, subspace flying shenanigans to the good girl I really am, under all that delicious naughtiness.
I work so hard Santa, I do! I am studying like crazy and have gotten several scholarships and awards, and you know at my age it is difficult to stay in school, but Santa!! I did!! Third Year!! Surely that is a good girl sorta thing, right?
And I take good care of my family, I am responsible, pay my debts, follow the rules and prioritize the health and well-being of those in my family (myself too!) over fun and games.
I try very hard to be a good person, to not hurt anyone, to be there with a ready smile for those around me, to help where I can and empathize and be supportive of those in need.
Come on, Santa, surely you and your silly elves agree, I have been OH So Good. So this year, please, Santa , please!! Do Not leave me coal this year!! I will happily take my spankings for whatever naughty silliness you are upset about, I Will!!
But please, please Santa, I deserve a gift this year!! I would be ever grateful she bats her eyes sweetly if you would bring me my new rope book (Douglas Kent, sky, please please please) some carabiners (for.. uh... hiking and stuff) and some undyed hemp or jute rope, 6mm.
And Santa? If you would like to see some more naughty behaviour from this good girl, you could bring me some thongs, a hot wax kit and a new paddle, that one with the stingray skin on one side...mmmm...

When the rope seduces me...

As we sit there talking I can feel myself becoming more and more focused on that length of rope I have been absentmindedly let slide through my fingers. Each fiber of the rope feels as if it is more pronounced than it as a moment ago, there is a sensation of warming where the rope caresses my skin, sliding, rough and smooth, gently abrasive, leaving my hand tingling.
I turn to face FHB, as he is talking, and I have this moment of disorientation, as I am looking at his sexy frame as a rigger, imagining what I could do with this rope, did he let me-and that image is for a moment superimposed my vision of him... I smile wryly, amused, because while he often lets me practice on him he is NOT a bottom, nor does he get any glee from rope, in his hands or on his person.
BL says something, and what little focus I have left shifts to him, the rope still sliding, fibers catching on my skin, yet sliding ever so soft and wicked... hmm?? What did he say??
I put the rope down beside me and concentrate a little... follow the conversation, participate.. And I am doing good... Right?? But when bk says something and I make eye contact I am suddenly very aware that I have picked the rope back up and continued my tactile junky fix-and suddenly I very clearly see what this rope should be doing.
This very pretty pink hemp rope that is stroking my hand, sliding across my forearm and pooling sinfully at my feet should be winding itself over her skin instead... wrapping around her waist, cinching just on this side of good... Then down and through her legs, creating a cradle to lift her buttocks just so... tightening just a bit here, more there... And one wrist fastened here, elbow there....
And maybe.. yes that purple rope... it just wants to slide up her abdomen, wrap itself over her rib cage, asymmetrically binding one breast, this knot right there... this one just off kilter... now cinch it tight... I can hear that amazing soft squeak she makes when you startle her in a good way... Yes, this rope can now bring that foot up... just so.. bind bind... and the leg.. bind bind... more rope....back to pink, this arm now... it needs to be like this... secure it.. double column tie... and that foot like this... with purple... secure it, double column tie...
I can see it, the whole time they are talking.. I can feel my heart beat slow down, the feel of the rope sliding through my fingers, the tension, the warmth of her skin... I can hear her sounds, the rasp of the rope...
I can see it... the finished picture, arm and leg fully suspended, body partially, the position looking so impossibly uncomfortable but made peaceful by the rigging... Her form swaying slightly on the ropes, that glazed look a rope bunny gets that makes me feel... so... damn. just so damned good.
I stand up abruptly, obviously not in time with conversation, judging by the startled looks everyone gives me... I shrug.. Socially awkward?? Me?? yup...
I put aside that vision a wee bit, and show BL and FHB the tie we are here for... I demonstrate on bk, trying not to yank the rope too tight just to hear that sound, ignoring the seductive song the rope is singing I do what I am supposed to do, grinning to myself, even as I am picturing what else this rope can do.
And so we learn the tie we came to learn. We practice the tie we came to learn. BL ties on bk, FHB ties it on me, the tightening of the rope on my own skin just adds to the song in my head. The whole time I am just dancing inside to a different song-being seduced by the rope.

Slave Girl

I am woken rudely by a hand twined in my hair, lifting me, causing me to gasp in pain and struggle to get on my feet.

"Wha-?" I begin to speak, but my mouth is slapped firmly, halting my words.  The message is clear.  I am to be quiet.  The hand, tight in my hair, so incredibly tight, steers me and I stumble in what I hope is the right direction.

My bare feet pad loudly on the cold floor, and I wonder where I am.  Surely this is a prank, people just do not get kidnapped like this in the real world... right?

I am shoved forward and I raise my bound hands to catch myself only to feel other hands catch me and steady me, lifting me and swinging me about, then standing me up again.  Once I am steady, they drop away, leaving me standing there, tired and scared.

I strain to hear... Footsteps fade away.  I can hear breathing. One person? More? I flinch when hands are unexpectedly on my wrists, raising them high.  I hear a "clink" and my hands are fastened, above my head.  I flinch again as hands pull the cloth from my eyes.  I blink in the bright light at the man in front of me.  WTF... I don't know this person.  I whimper in fear as he leans forward my eyes glued to the knife he holds.

He smiles evilly at me, then, when I flinch away, he barks, "hold still".  I freeze, eyes squeezed shut.  I feel a tug, but no pain.  I peek.

Ahhh... he is cutting away my clothes... oh my..

I stand there, trembling, as he cuts away every last scrap of clothing, my eyes closed in shame, I tug on my wrists, helpless to cover myself. Eventually I open my eyes, and see that I am chained to a hook in the ceiling, standing beside a floor drain.  I turn my head and see a hose, a table with towels and bottles upon it. 

I hear footsteps and turn my head to see a woman walking towards me.  I don't recognize her, either.  She doesn't make eye contact with me at all, but rolls up her sleaves and grabs the hose and a bucket, then turns back to me.

"Who?" I begin, only to flinch as she smacks my mouth.  Got it.. no talking...

She goes about the process of scrubbing me, from head to toe, using sweet smelling soaps and vigorous scrubbing with a loofah that leaves my skin tinging and near abraded.  The water is slightly cold.  The whole situation seems so surreal, I scarce know what to do with myself besides shiver miserable, small whimpers escaping with the occasional tear.

She leaves me standing there, miserable and wet, only to return quickly with the man, who walks in, moves the bucket so it is upside down and beside me, then lifts me off the hook.  He sets a foot on the upturned bucket, then tosses me face down over his bent leg, so that I dangle there, fingertips barely touching the floor. I struggle a bit at the feel of fingers upon my now very exposed genitals, but the firm shake I get is enough to have me settle down.

I feel fingers probing me, then something very cold and metal is pushed inside me.  There is a warm rushing sensation and I realize it is a douche, water filling me.  I whimper again, shamed beyond belief as the water trickles, nearly dieing of shame when he turns me, and by pressing on my abdomen forces me to eject the water.  ewwwwww...

This is repeated a few times, then suddenly fingers are pressing something wet and cold against my ass.  I go rigid, then fight to relax, knowing that resisting won't help me.. I would give anything to be able to hide my face as I feel the nozzle enter, and the pressure of water filling my bowels.  As the pressure increases I make sounds of distress, trying to not shame myself..   Just when I think I am beyond hope, I am turned over and pressed over the bucket.. (oh gawd... nooo....)  I feel the liquid expel and am horrified, my eyes squinched shut.  

more cold water is sluiced over me, and I stood and toweled off, my hands once again hooked above me.  Oil is rubbed into my now dry skin, warming me slightly.  A collar is placed around my neck, with a strap that runs from it to the middle of my back.  My hands are released, wrists rubbed for a bit, then refastened to the end of the strap.  I am then nudged to follow the man, with the woman walking behind me.

I am taken to a room.  The room is all dark reds and browns, with only a few furnishings.  There is a small table and one armless chair, a narrow padded bench, and a couch.

I am led to the center of the room and the woman poses me, spreading my legs, tilting my head slightly before she leaves the room.

The man stands just inside the door, smirking at me as I stand there.

Then there is a knock, the man goes out.  He comes back in with a strip of cloth, which he binds over my eyes.  I stand there for a few minutes, then there are hands on me, making me flinch.

Hands explore my skin, touching every inch, pressing, pinching, patting, smoothing.  Every toe is touched, my belly ring tugged, my nipples pinched and rolled.  Hands are on my face, fingers in my mouth, touching my teeth, my tongue as I tremble.  a finger is shoved inside me, and I gasp.  The finger is removed, and I am tugged and pushed until I am face down on what I think is the bench.  My hands are untied from behind me and refastened elsewhere.

Then I feel something, I know not what, being pressed inside me.  It fills me, as I struggle and whimper, unable to do shit about it. 

Then something is pressed elsewhere...
To be con't

Ropegasm 2012

Kudos to the Ropegasm organizers for a fucktabulous event!! I love Edmonton kink events as a rule, but this one is one of the top events I have ever attended.

The classes were small enough for incredibly intense hand on learning, large enough to be entertaining. It was difficult to choose from the classes being offered. All the presenters were amazing!! I can now tie one and two column ties with my eyes closed, add new rope with my eyes closed, wrap up my rope several different ways, tie several different harnesses for suspension (including myself) and various other ties that I have used forever are now improved and practiced.
Rope theory!! How to care for the rope, how to understand how tension works when doing floor work, how to test a tie for suspension, how to paritally suspend, how to do inversions (not that I intend to just jump to that...)

By the last couple of classes the instructor was refuting my claim as a beginner :) (happy face)
I had the joy of practicing my rigging skills on a few different victims, two lovely ladies and my kind Sir who allowed me to practice on him in class and out, with a tolerant yet wry smile and promises of my suffering a little in exchange for his generous service as my rope dummy (his term, not mine).
I did my first suspension, suspended my own self as well, and did a fun improvisational floor tie on a sexy lady. (Sweetie, you made my night, just saying...)

I was too shy to approach people myself, but still managed to say a few words here and there. (Thank you to @WoodenTiger69 for letting me use your ring for self suspension class with Lotus Lily, that was very generous of you. And if anyone knows the lady I shared a suspension point with, thanks to you as well, for the kind words and camaraderie.)

I am saving my pennies for one of those portable suspension points from sirentiybound... Thanks to Ben for all the time and explanations as to how it works.

Here is the rope kit I purchased while there (chain is mine)

What a riot!!

Spanking Event for COPE Sept 29

Let me present:

Angel's Spanking Academy

Angel's Spanking Academy is offering a chance to challenge their infamous spanking exam to receive full certification and grade on your spanking style!

This event is open to any persons that wish to participate and have their spanking ability "rated" in the categories of "positioning" "dialogue" "technique" and "impact" (This is over the knee hand spankings, to be clear).

Exams would take place in the COPE dungeon, September 29th. Straight back chair will be provided. Bring your own lap and hand. Bonus points for creativity, dress and demeanor.

A spanking rubric will be emailed to any that wish to participate (so that you can practice, mwahaha) and Certificates of "Novice Spanker" "Intermediate Spanker" "Advanced Spanker" and "Master Spanker" will be awarded in accordance to one's score.

This is meant to be fun! Bring your creative streak!

Anyone wanting to participate, please message me with a time slot (count on this event taking 1/2 hour, 15 minutes of that being lap-time, with time to get your certificate and marks ready) I will need to know in advance how many want to play, so that I can gauge how many other backsides besides my own will be needed. (I am a glutton, to be sure, but I only have so much skin!)

Anyone wanting to be a bottom for this event, also please message me with time frames.

Anyone who feels they are qualified to be part of the Academy's grading team please let me know!

Happy Spanking!

Rope Group of my own!

Tonight I hosted a gathering for rope shenanigans, and oh my what fun!
I got to top, which is always highly entertaining, and tie people up... (ooooh!!) AND I was able to show off my own rope!
Fun fun!!

This is me, learning to splice rope:

When Reality Slaps you

Have you ever been so blissfully unaware that your perception did not match your partners, that an offhand comment from him/her is a cold slap of reality?

I have been living in a D/s relationship. A 24/7 sort of deal in which I have felt completely accepted for myself. i am loving it!

For the first time in my life I have felt that someone sees me, sees my submissive sexuality, my SAM (smart assed masochism), my compulsive need to have things 'just so', my need for control clashing for me need to submit.., that someone sees me and loves me, not in spite of these things, but because of these things...

I have never been this content, or this peaceful with myself. I have never been so relaxed about my perverse needs, my kinks, my sexuality. I have never been so self accepting.

So discovering that my perception, that he understood that my submission is part of how I tick, does not match his perception, was a hard slap that left me feeling lost, isolated and even rejected.
Seems silly now, of course, cuz it's only my knowledge that has changed... But silly or not, there I was feeling like the whole foundation for all that has been lifting me had crumbled, leaving me stranded in my own insecurities, lost in my own doubts. I felt helpless, alone and hurt.

I wept. I was afraid.

I don't want to put words in his mouth... I don't remember the exact words he said, and I am painfully aware that I do not know what he was thinking... But what I heard. what i translated his words to mean was...

Everything I feel is real is just play to him. So therefore (female brain, sigh) what is real to me, and has been holding me up is a lie. I am not accepted for who I am, I am not able to meet his needs, I am not enough. That my hidden self is just that, hidden. That he has not seen me. That he has expectations of me that I cannot meet. That I have failed. From there it was a short step to feeling rejected. I put myself out there, i had thought I had been accepted, but... If he is expecting me to drop my 'role', well in my feeling sorry for myself (and pms addled, let's not forget that) brain it seemed he was rejecting me. Not just rejecting me as in turning me down, but rejecting me for who I am.
Of course, we talked about it, after I got over myself a little. We established that my translation is not exactly accurate (lmfao). We talked a bit about the differences in our perceptions. He asked questions, I struggled to answer. He is an amazing man, really.

Now, to move forward i have to do what I wanted for myself. I have to SEE him and accept him for who he is, not a hard thing at all. But I also have to deal with my own doubts, a very hard thing indeed. I have to be ok with our differences in priorities and needs. I have to learn to be more... well.. less I guess... less submissive. Doable, right?

Nothing has changed, really, yet everything has. And it is impossible to know if that is good...
or not.



Update:
We are working on this together.  I think this is amazing, really, that we can face these bumps together, when I just share my thoughts.  Even when my words carry pain, he listens patiently.  Even when we are both struggling with so many other things, he is there, listening. 

He and I define terms differently.. soon we will be working on building our own definitions, together.  

Part 2 Shadowlane Spanking Party

We arrived at the ballroom and recieved our name badges. Happily we ran into a gentleman we had been talking to on Fetlife, which helped us to not feel so stranded. The room was packed!

We wandered the vendors, spending way more than I had planned. There were so many exciting items!  What we did end up with was a very evil ebony paddle, a deceptive leather paddle that is yummy on one side and evil on the other, a twilting style cane, both of Cassandra Parks books (It's supposed to hurt), an OTK T shirt, a video and a book from Shadow lane.  All books were signed!! 

I have to say, after watching every shadow lane video I can get my hands on and reading every paperbook by Eve Howard that I have discovered, I nearly died to be standing across the table from Eve herself.  What a lovely Lady! I was all blushing with feelings of awe, turned around and nearly died on the spot!!

Some of my very favorite spankers and brats were just standing there!!  I halted, floored, then got a grip on myself and headed to The Brit's table, flustered all to heck.
There I spoke with the ladies and got myself enrolled into the academy, an event planned for the next day. I was overtired, giggly, thrilled and terrified by the entire bit... And poor Sir!! There he was, still in his traveling clothes, as his darn bag still had not shown up...
Sir and I did hang out and enjoy the dinner, taking note of suite parties and whatnot, until we finally snuck out for a breather.  We are both quite shy and felt way out of our element.

Once in our room we discovered that his bag had been found!!  If we had just waited a few minutes before leaving for the dinner, Sir could have dressed up some...
Sir decided this was my fault (not fair!! I oh so did NOT set the time for dinner!! Can I help it that I like to arrive in a timely fashion???) and we had a long playtime in which he used all of our new toys and most of the toys we arrived with... It isn't often that I kick my feet, but I sure did for that darn leather paddle!! I love the other side though... It is my new favorite!

After a shower and a cuddle we dressed for spanking Olympics (LATE!!!) and headed to the appropriate suite.  The Olympics were fabulous!  I judged one event and we watched a few before Sir dragged me out of there.  I believe he could see that I was working up courage to enter us into an event, mwahahahaha.

We changed into our army outfits and headed to the sixties/nam party.  Many people there spoke to us with warmth, which was lovely.  To all of you who introduced yourselves, thank you! I wish I had been brave enough to make play dates with you!  We watched events, with me getting giddier by the minute... I am ever the voyeur, really!!
We returned to our room, exhausted.  Three hours sleep and over stimulated, I found myself bratting my way into yet another spanking, followed by unmentionable fun, shower and falling asleep wrapped safely in Sir's arms.

DAY TWO
We scooped some time at the pool, grabbed breakfast and then Sir kindly dressed me for the academy.  He laced me into my corset, snapped my stockings in and helped me into my long tight skirt and blouse.  Sir felt the need to round off this helping with a lovely blissful sighing spanking, pictures and kisses, then walked me to the academy...
OH MY GOOD GRIEF!!! What a wicked fun day.  Mrs. Darling and her co-star (oops I  mean co-spanker) were amazing role players.  Some of the girls were incredible at playing naughty schoolgirls, I was quite jealous.
I did end up over Mrs. Darlings knee once, and sent to the superintendent once, but for the most part I was too busy giggling at the girls to brat it up (and shy... so shy).
Other ladies have told this tale better than I can, check them out in the list of blogs at shadow lane.

Sir came and got me about three o'clock, so I missed the end of class.  We went and did some shopping, then I had more spankings, (at which he was shocked that I had no marks at all, and proceeded to try and fix this)  I love the way Sir spanks... But I certainly had some whimpers this time.. i may not mark much, but some areas were getting quite sensitive!!
We headed to the dinner, but left shortly after as Sir needed ZZZ time.
I waited till he was asleep and pouting I dressed up and snuck out to the suite parties. 
Bad.. I know... BUT

Although I wandered the parties, talked to many and had one lovely lady give me the tiniest of spankings, I did stay out of trouble.  I did not drink, i did not play with anyone (not that anyone asked me :), which made it easy to not get into trouble, no?)  I returned to the suite, pj'ed up and crawled into bed... sad that there was only one night left.

The next day we went to spanking court, where someone tattled about my solo adventure.  After court was yet another of Sir's rather hard spankings... Which I pretended to be whiny about, not that I fool him any.  We headed to the strip, shopped and went to a show. 

FINAL THOUGHTS
If I was more gregarious I would have had a wicked good time.  So many people spoke to me that I would have loved to play with, but I had not idea how to convey that, or if it was acceptable to even approach people.. All that talk on fet about creepers asking to play had me hesitant as hell.. We still had a great time!!! But most of my fun came from Sir. Which seems silly if you go all the way to Vegas, lol. But.. We met some amazing people!

Next time We will do things differently.  More networking, more mingling, less drinking, no gambling and twitter from day one.

Hugs and laughter

Part 1 Shadowlane Spanking Party in Vegas, 2012

was still awake at 1 am, the early morning of the first of September, trembling with excitement over the upcoming trip to Las Vegas... It reminded me of Christmas Eve when I was a very young girl... As I lay there trembling, trying so desperately to sleep but way beyond too excited...

My Dom, Mr.Nab, had already dished out a PreVegasSettleTheFuckDownMiss sort of spanking, which did nothing to lower my giddy glee and anticipation of the fun to come.  I have no idea how long I lay there beside him, hoping and hoping to get to sleep, but when that damn alarm went off at 430 am I was certainly feeling it.

We hustled through our morning must do's, dressing and loading the truck wtih my two bags (plus carry on, plus purse.. What can I say) and his one medium bag.. I left a thank you note for RK&f, twisted my hair into a clip and we stumbled out the door. 

I had chosen to dress in a long skirt and tak top, with a lacey sweater... which I knew would be fine once we hit vancouver ,but in Edmonton is was freaking cold.  I shivered miserably in truck as we made the 45 minute drive to the airport.

Mr. Nab expertly navigated the nearly deserted city, and we arrived at the airport with plenty of time.  Still shivering like a nudist in a snowstorm I straggled alongside my Sir. As we entered the airport, I dug out our passports and our flight confirmation number and we attempted to check in at the computer checking station... The lovely machine promptly spat out my boarding pass, but the screen displayed this ominous message, "Mr. Nab's boarding pass cannot be processed here.  Please check in at the counter".

We entered the long line, which to be fair we had to do to check out bags anyways.  While we waited I asked, sweetly, if there was anything I should know.  Mr. Nab gave me his 'not amused' look, which of course had me much cheered. At the counter the attendant professionally checked our bags and provided us with a boarding pass for Mr. Nab.  I asked if there was an issue, and she calmly shared that while there was no issue, Mr. Nab was the proud winner of an enhanced pat down-ie: he had been randomly selected to go through enhanced measures at the international airport in Vancouver. 
I tossed Sir a gleeful grin, opened my mouth and he said, "don't."  Anyone that knows me also knows that telling me 'no' or 'don't' is not much of a deterrant... Needless to say I was giggling like a maniac..

We headed to the security checkpoint, me teasing Sir the entire way... "Not even there  yet and you are getting some action!" I chortled.  Mr. Nab, to his credit, is incredibly laid back and took my ribbing and the situation with a calm that I envy to no end. I am not sure if I am just that bratty, If my humor is that skewed or if I was just beyond tired and giddy, but the calmer Sir was, the harder I giggled.

It certainly did not help matters that when the TSA fellow scanned Sir's boarding pass he ALSO gave Sir a huge shit eating grin, and said, "Uh, you know you were randomly selected..?" Keep in mind that Sir is a Six foot tall very pale bald guy-he stands out. And the agent was this 5'9" (ish) wiry built, dark hair, dark skinned gentleman.  So it was quite ironic, which tickled me to no end.

So there we were, Sir, my giggling self and the grinning TSA fellow.  Although Sir gave the gent a wry smile and nod, he was less amicable in regards to my mirth. He marked me to the first set of tables at the screening area, bent my protesting and giggling self over the table and delivered a resounding volley of.....



Ok... that didn't happen... I mean, no spanking-the giggling did happen..

Regardless we managed to board our plane and arrived in Vancouver without any further fuss.  We immediately headed to customs, where the border agent was humorous and entertaining as he stamped our passports.  then we entered the security area for international travel, which had me giggling again.  The actual pat down took perhaps ten seconds, it was nothing really, but it oh so amused the hell out of me.

The rest of our flight was peaceful, I am sure I slept a little.  Watching that last stretch of scenery I was again terribly excited!! Almost there!!

Unfortunately, our misadventures had only begun.  We landed without a problem, but while all my luggage arrived without an issue, Sir's bag did not.  There was however, a bag on the carasoul that was the same bag, except a different colour. We reported to the Agent, and they admitted they did not knmow if the bag had been flagged.  We left our information, and headed to the hotel.

We had been on the 'road' for 13 hours at this point., and Sir was not impressed with the idea of having to show up at the Shadowlane dinner in the clothing he had travelled in. So we checked into the hotel and walked to a 'nearby' set of shops. 

I was wearing sandals, and by the time we arrived at the shops my foot had a HUGE blister... so I did what any girl would do! I browsed shoes. Sir was not able to find anything that impressed him clothing wise and we returned to the hotel.

Where I unpacked a little, changed (and got well and truly spanked) and we headed to the dinner. 

Here is me in my corset, in Vegas

Life Lessons and Self Fulfillment

So.. Things with Mr. NAB (Not A Boyfriend) have been clicking along.

If you missed the fetrant, it is helpful to understand that as I was getting ready to go meet Mr. NAB, who was supposed to be a potential friend with benefits such as regular spanking dates for yours truly... A completely NSA arrangement, casual as all heck. 

Anyone that knows me is aware that I am not exactly all expert at casual.  Not me.. I fall in love, get married, spend a decade finding out that love is not enough, get divorced fall in love... you see? So after two failed marraiges I am a weeee bit relationship shy.. weeee as in the word boyfriend has me feeling a bit naseous, my heart pounding while I scan teh area for an escape route.. But I am needy and a glutton.  I NEEED regular (at least once a week!!) spanking time.  I need that subspace/flying or whatever.  I need spoiling (of the attention sort not money thanks).  I am kinda high maintenance. 
So I figured, I could do both! Just find a playmate with the time and energy to keep up with me, but no vanilla time.
Right?

Apparantly not.  A couple coffee in and my NonDate turned into my NonDominant and I found myself easily falling into submission., 

So ... We agreed that we'd just kinda go with it. No, I do not konw what that means really, but I know what it feels like...

It has been the most relaxing and yet most intense learning I have ever undergone.  And considering he has no idea what he is doing... (no experience with the 'rule book' style BDSM.. he just does what 'works'  and yes.. yes.. it works.)  ... well, color me overwhelmed. 

The Lessons Sir has taught me..

I have learned that I am not just sexually submissive, but in certain circumstances I am pretty damned 24/7 submissive --But only to my dominant... which brings us to the next lesson...

I have learned that in submitting myself to his will, I am not weaker, or less capable but Stronger and More capable. 

I have learned that facing scary things and working past that fear is incredibly empowering. 

I have learned, repeatedly, that one can not die from embarrassment, that shame is not an option being offered, and blushing is not a safeword.

I have learned that the world does not end if I am called a four letter word with all the reverence others might be called pet names.

I have learned that I gain more in submission than I do in questioning, doubts, worries, apprehension, uncertainty, hesitancy, guilt and shame.

I have learned that resistance without cause has no place in my life.  That resistance should have meaning-even if that meaning is to be playful.  That resistance with meaning is always rewarded but submission with blind trust is cherished.

I have learned that teasing is not always malice based.

I have learned that I am immature in many ways, childish in some ways and overly responsible in others.

I have learned that I am a valuable person, who, although bruised from other relationships, DOES have something to offer.  That even my gluttony can be a gift.

I have learned that this gift of learning, in the guise of a pinch to sensitive skin, a swat to tougher skin, teeth sinking into the meat of my shoulder, a hand on my neck not squeezing but there regardless, that these things are tools of fulfillment.  that each lesson fills me, leaving me sated, tired and renewed all at once.

Love the journey... just do

AND.. No jealousy?  No suspicion? No having to hide my past??
wow

Minor Update

Soo... I have been pretty quiet lately, not posting much or as often.

Truth is, I have been busy, confused, and struggling to sort out how I feel about a few things. You see, I met this person... A wonderful guy really, who was supposed to fall under a 'hang out once in a while pal with play time' sort of category but morphed quickly into a 'hang out all the time pal who is also my Dominant' sorta category. 

Not complaining, now that I  have kinda wrapped my head around having a person in my life that I spend this much time with, but am not bonded to by any legal certificate (I really am terrified of marriage lol)...

So now, here I am, living a D/s lifestyle but from separate homes, (no shack up expectations!! how cool is that?) with someone who is being oh so respectful of all those minefields I have set to protect myself... Sometimes respecting them, and other times gently pointing out that they are no longer needed...

A bit scary.  But yet... so not.  And for once I really understand that relationships do not have to be built with forever in mind, but more with right now in mind, moment by moment. That I can grow within this, and that is ok.  That I can grow outside of this and that too is ok.  That friends can both play (bdsm) and play (sex) and still be friends.

So for now... assume that silence means I am busy learning more about who I am, what I want, what makes me tick and more about teh world around me and how I fit into it.

Hugs and Laughter,

The Sweetest Submission

It is the sweetest thing, this submission


Doing those things you ask, be they large or small, direct orders or comments on what interests you,

comments that you make in passing- doing those tasks and seeing your glee in my compliance,

feeling your joy in my obedience, your approval in my joy in doing as asked.. oh my....

this submission is the sweetest feeling.


Knowing that you ask for nothing you will regret me doing.
That you ask for nothing that I will regret doing.... And I do know this, Sir.
Knowing that you ask of me to merely give you the responsibility of my submission to you,

that you DO see it as a responsibility-always considering how I will react, if it will benefit me-
it is the sweetest of feelings.


You grin with glee when I blush, when I am oh so slightly mortified, and even that makes me happy!

That such small embarrassments are seen by you as a gift from me, and that you treasure my blushes

rather than seeing them as a weakness. I find myself looking forward to those moments of squidgy blushes,
knowing you adore them.


The look of pride you have when you help me grow and learn, when together we move forward past a
roadblock, melts me. I strive to grow to see that look, to know that you are proud.


Your assurance that you see me, you note my efforts, my growth, my willingness.. that constant reassurance
and coddling feeds me strength to trust when it is kinda scary, to still submit when it is embarrassing,

to speak up when I have questions. You lift me and build me up so sweetly.. How can I not respond to that?


The weight of your eyes on me as you play me, as you drink in every sound you wring from me, as you weigh

every movement I make in response to your tender mercies fuels those very sounds and motions, your craving
for my reactions strengthen my response, a never ending cycle that leaves me a trembling, spaced out,

submissive mess with no thought but your joy in me.


Hearing you say those words, phrases I had believed to be mean, rude, crass, arrogant, dismissive... but yet

you say them with such warmth, such tangible heat, such gentleness and glee, that I crave the sound of them

passing your lips.. oh Sir, you make this submission so sweet.


One look, showing me that you do NOT approve, shatters me. Gentle as the reprimand of that look is, I feel it,

I know. I strive to not ever see that look again.


Knowing how seriously you take my words, how you strive to grow, to include my interests in your fast growing
list of skills, the care and attention you apply to learning of me, the glee you take in using what you learn.....

it leaves me helpless, eagerly looking for opportunities to to show that I cherish that gift, Sir, that you give-in
allowing me to submit to your gentle and erotic will, teaching me to trust in you and in myself, showing me

that submission is, really, truly, a thing of sweetness...


Thank you Sir... for this gift, this sweetest submission...

Accidental Submission

I am the only person who can choose, willingly and openly, to seek out a NSA (no strings attached) playmate and accidentally end up in what certainly feels like a very intense service to a Dominant.

It's accidental submission...

There I was, you see, wandering around, minding my own business, after some local and mild playtime (you know, some princessy spoiling, now that I am a high maintenance attention whore) and lots of spankings..Met a gent after some mild negotiating... very clear we both were.. NSA, not looking to just hook up-friendship, talking, cuddling yes please.. NSA NSA NSA (and yes!! I was thrilled!! I am not relationship material! I just am not!!)

And here I am three days later, sorta accidentally submitted to someone that sorta accidentally dominated, sorta accidentally for three days and now??

Now here I am, strangely unafraid, wierdly not too worried (HAHAHAHAHA where are those damned runners?) with only one little bitty spanking-and yet he has somehow become My Sir and I his sub..

There are phrases being used that should have me running like hell.  (WHAT? I am NOT  "A Sub" I just get kinda submissive when spanked...oh wait... there was no spanking to blame... )

Speaking of which.. Anyone that has spanked me, talked to me about spanking, read my writing or watched me get spanked knows that spanking just flat out does it for me.  It just does. 

I would have said, that spanking would be my pre-rquisite.. (hahah, I ammend that to say , I do and certainly have insisted that) That any playmate of mine had best be offering spankings... Yet... hours and hours of play later, I have had one very small spanking last night) from my Sir who has never had a gal over his knee (How can anyone who has NEVER played this way be so damned natural at it?) and I am still a smling, glowy mess.

Friend "So how was your non date?"

Me "It was quite yummy.. Kinda D/s...Well ok.. Very D/s"
 
Friend "oooh! Nice!  Good Spanker?"

Me "Dunno..  Not sure it matters." *grinz*

Friend "um.. thought this was a spanking friend?"

Me " Me too, but I kinda accidentally ended up submissive to his dominant... "

Friend. ."What? Accidentally? You make it sound like you slipped off his lap and landed on a D/s contract."

Me. "...."

Flirting.. Blushing.. Oh My

Is it just me? Or is the flirting and talking that leads up to a meeting almost (and sometimes equal or more) as much fun as the kinky playtime meet?
Those sexy words, flirty comments, provocative phrases and threats, all making me tingle, a blush spreading across my skin.  I smile, giggle, have bounce in my step.
I wait, hoping for another message... Heart pounding when my phone beeps "oooh I have mail!!!"  Like a teenager with her first crush, my thoughts fill with possibilities, some from my own twisted imagination, some fueled by your words, your unique blend of remdiners of what has happened already and what you intend to happen in the future...You 'get' me well enough to know what gets me going... the mere promise of trouble, a naughty word, a shaerd experience.. oh ..oh..oh.. my...
Vivid pictures fill my mind, my face flames 'three shades of red' my heart piter patters, my breath catches in my throat and I tingle.. nipples tightening, all this yummy flirtatious talk making me wet, eager and giddy...
All that with an email.. A text...
Oh yum... I love the flirting and leading up.  Yes Sir, i do!

Forgiveness

Dear T ,
I realize that you are not likely to ever 'allow' me to say this to you, really.. but...
I forgive you.
I forgive you for everything, every last tear, every denial, every pointed finger.  I really and truly hope you find a way to learn, grow and love.  Know that I do forgive you, and that although I no longer am willing to go back to our marriage, my heart still holds caring for you-be well.

Open Letter to The Creepy Dom

Dear GG aka Creepy Dom from Alt,
I just want to go on the record as pointing out to you that I was VERY honest in our fist communication, in which I clearly stated that I was not interested in a 'romantic' relationship as I felt I "still have much growing and healing to do before I can bring to a relationship a healthy me".  When you insisted that I must understand that I NEED a man (you) I got cranky with you, and you finally admitted that you 'understood' my pov. 
As days went on, every time you would slip into the lovey dovey side of things I would remind you that I am not going there.  I stayed honest.
Then, oh creepy one, you decided to nag me on Yahoo Messenger to web cam with you.  When I declined you typed... (Cut and paste sirrah, so don't bother arguing) And let us keep in mind that previous to this our conversations had been quite chaste, really.  No cyber sexerdoodling (why? cuz I don't do that silly stuff!)..

Missed Video call with (1SirCreep
SirCreep :go make yourself decent for me
SirCreep let's just use the cam here so much easier10:18:51 PM
Mel: no you willno-
Missed Video call with SirCreep (10:18:33 PM)Missed Video call with SirCreep (10:19:01 PM)10:19:28 PM SirCreep huh10:19:32 PM
Me: no!10:19:52 PM
SirCreep: you don't think you look good ehI  i am always confident of myself10:20:18 PM
Me: You know... no is no! 10:20:20 PM
SirCreep : never have image issues10:20:34 PM
Me: It is not image issues10:20:37 PM
SirCreep: yes it  is10:20:46 PM
SirCreep you don't think you look good enough10:20:49 PM
Me: I am not obligated to webcam mister10:21:02 PM Me : bah10:21:05 PM
SirCreephow long will it take you to get yourself ready10:23:38 PM
Me: I am not going to10:24:05 PM
SirCreep: yes you are, you will do as you are told brat10:24:07 PM
SirCreep: do as you are told10:24:41 PM
Me:: I may be submissive, but that does not mean I am submissive to the planet!!10:25:31 PM
SirCreep : no but to me you are10:25:40 PM
Me: How do you figure?10:25:50 PM Me : *she waits, curious to hear this*10:26:05 PM
SirCreep: you want a man like me, and you know what it takesI to be with one so get yourself in line10:26:42 PM
Me: hmm... you seem to be missing the part where bonding happens, trust is built, agreements are made10:26:54 PM
SirCreep: i am a natural dom i take the woman i want it is that simple
Missed Video call with SirCreep (10:48:50 PM)10:49:16 PM
me: you know I am NOT accepting10:49:20 PM
SirCreep : i know, you need to be trained10:49:29 PM
me: I don't like that word!10:49:35 PM
SirCreep : yes you do  you need it10:49:42 PM
me: ...10:49:56 PM
SirCreep : contact me when you are going to be compliant10:50:10 PM
me: you would miss my sense of self10:50:13 PM
SirCreep : goodbye10:50:16 PM

Now, Sir Creepy, I get that you were having a rough night, having seen your late wife's family for the first time since the funeral...I assume you were drinking.. I let it go.  You apologized, sorta.. And I accepted, sorta.  But I was more careful.
Then Sir,Creepy, you proceeded to continue with the bullying tactics.  I live in a shit hole, I am broken and you can fix me, I have never had 'real' sex, I have never met a 'real' dominant, I am just suffering with body image issues, I am never going to amount to anything without You, hell you even argued with me over where my Gspot is located.. Really Sir? Having never met me, and not having one of your own, you feel the need to teach this lady how to orgasm?
I again and again pointed out to you that your tactics are mean, underhanded and disrespectful.  I told you to get lost.  You then started leaving me messages on Alt, on Yahoo, and when I deleted my alt profile you had a tantrum about me blocking you.  When I blocked you on yahoo you got a new email address. 
Just so you could tell me that you have a new lady who is not fat, unlike me.  That she has class, not like me.  That all I have is this little town filled with beer gut oilfield guys. 
Well thank you, for making sure I was VERY happy with my call to run like hell from you.  Nice class act you got going there.
You Sir are a creepy Dom. 
Sincerely

Canes and Shock

Sorta Real, Sorta took some creative licence, different style of writing...

He stood, took me by the wrist and headed to the kitchen with me in tow...he reached my queen anne chair, pulled that out with one hand, sat down and drew my unresisting body over his knee...snugged me in and said, "mmm..nice view" (skirt was way short) which made me blush.
He swatted me for a bit..skirt sorta covering my butt...got bored of that after about ten minutes (me purring the whole time lol) so he drew my skirt up and stepped up the intensity..
He its a talker so the whole time he is"you have such an amazing ass...its that getting a little sensitive? No? Are you laughing you brat? hmm not laughing now...oh you are so wet ..what kind of naughty girl gets wet from getting a spanking?"
Just when I am starting to breath into every sting he yards be back to reality by winding his hands in my hair  and lifting me til I am making eye contract and said..."do you know what wet...naughty...girls get??"  And he grabbed his new strap...showed it to me....then scooped me in one motion (gasp from me..that startled eep sound that only girls make...) And carries me to the bed
Puts me on my knees feet towards him..lifts my hips and shoves me forward at the shoulders...which leaves me ass up, skin pulled tight cuz of position..hands splayed forward..so exposed..the whole time commenting on how incredibly accessible I am in this position, telling me how he can see by how wet I am that I am oh do not taking this seriously...petting my very warm butt, letting his hands just barely brush over yummy places, repositioning a little and then a rather holy shit swat with that strap..waits for me to breath..to move my hips that wee bit and again..each time waiting for my exhale before landing another slightly harder slightly lower...until I am hyper ventilating a little struggling to breathe it through..making mewly noises...then he stops..soothing his hands over my butt and back..telling me how good I have been..his sexy...petting and soothing..then starts again..bit more sexy petting..some fingers..some biting on my overly sensitive cheeks
And again sooth and repeat until  I am an orgasm mess, my ass a glowing red, my body limp and submissive, being cuddled and soothed.
So I am laying there, scratches down my arms (I scratch myself, the sheets, legs, you, whatever is handy... to the point where I keep my nails VERY short because of it).. I come back to myself, and giggle, hearing my panting/whimpering noise I didn't know I was even making... awareness comes back in stages when you hit 'subspace' (google it) As I can focus a little I toss a smile at my friend, who takes that as "I am all good! Keep Going!" (which it was). He tosses a couple of pillows to the middle of the bed, talking to 'himself'
"Hmmm... Will those lift your little hips high enough do you think?  perhaps another.... need a Verrrrryyyy goood view"... He plumps the pillows then slaps a freaking cane down on the bed right in front of my face.
Now.. this is where having a playmate that 'gets you' is oh so much fun.
I have a very love/hate relationship with canes.
There is that yummy tingling aprehension combined with anticipation...
Unlike spanking, though.. canes hurt. Not broken bones hurting, but still...
So just seeing it, hearing the sound it made going through the air and as it hits the bed, has me shook... Internal thoughts going in circles, do I trust him? Do I want to do this? oh I want to.. I am excited, my heart is pounding so hard, I can feel that tingle blush spread up my body (sigh, nice that I can't hide that feeling either... Someone is mean and calls it my girl version of a hardon... *sniff*) but I am scared too, or perhaps apprehensive is a better word. my skin dews up (nervous, who me?) and I can picture how UNDIGNIFIED this is going to be.. a Girl does not make only nice movements and sounds for a cane.  This girl HATES being undignified...
I am so busy with my thoughts that I hadn't realized HE was talking to ME, until a hand snugs in the back of my hair, lifting me until I am upright, kneeling on the bed and stretched up and back slightly so he can make some rather serious eye contact. 
"Do I have your attention now, little one?" he asks, with that smirk that guys get that is SO ANNOYING.. but I swallow that (don't lip of men with sticks, right?) and purr, "oh yes you have my attention Sir, you do!!" and I smile and blink, getting a throaty chuckle and a tightening of his grip on my hair which of course gets a small whimpery gasp sound.."Then you need to do what I asked, do you not?" He says in that low voice that means he is going to 'play the game'
See.. .I have learned something about sexually dominant men.  There is a game they play called, "you can't win little girl, it is not fair, it is not supposed to be fair-that is the point"
The point is to hammer in that helpless feeling, to really get the gal's brain understanding that she is oh so not in charge right now.  It is a fun game, lol. But I struggle with that childish need to say, in my best whiny voice, "nooooooo So VERY not FAIR!!!!!!"
But Play the Game I do so I answer, "I am very sorry sirrah, but I have no clue what you asked me, I was still blissed out from your attentions." (ha, i think to myself, make THAT my fault)
"Did I ASK you for your excuse, little one?"
(grrr... not fair not fair)  "ummm.. no sir you did not."
"Then you need to do what I asked"
(hmm... should I guess? or sass?)  "uh.. yessir.. I hear you" which has him releasing my hair so suddenly that I fall forward, in a very ungraceful heap on the bed and I HATE that and he knows it dammit... I gather my dignity, feeling that delightful mix of anticipation verses nervousness and decide sass is more fun.  So I stand up stretch a little and head towards the the kitchen for water.
"guess again Angel" he smirks at me...
"umm.. bathroom break?" i suggest, just to stall for time
"not a chance sweetheart." he is openly chuckling now, the rat...
"ummmmmm...."  I eye the bed and its evil pillows... no way no how am I putting myself there, just saying.. and  I cast my eyes about looking for any stalling technique...
"I can see you have no intention of complying, so that means this goes from a 'fun' experiment to a more 'traditional' event... " He sighs in mock disappointment and I am not sure if I should say "yippee!!' or beg mercy...
"Get over those pillows, Angel." No joking now at all... and I try to make myself do it.  I even manage to walk over there, my knees barely holding me up.. And I shoot him a glance.hoping he will just let me have my favored position- hell any position but not this one.
(to be clear, I am sure it is a lovely view for a boy... But it is a very very exposed view, as he insists that the upper hips are FORWARD over the pillows, which stretches teh skin very tight (makes it harder to be ok with the impact, too btw) and gives a view of all private bits.. I don't like it!!)
I can't make myself do it.  I am frustrated with myself (just doooo itttt submit, you can do it) but I am mortified and my body doesn't respond to my internal dialogue. 
He knows me well enough, I guess, cuz he just smiles at me and waits it out.  When I glance at him beseechingly I see that he is being patient, but yet there is no room for compromise in his visage either.
Yet.. I just can't do it. So I stand there.
He grabs a water, sits down across from the bed on the bench and sighs.  The sound of that sigh wounds me, as I value my ability to give that control over, and I know I am frustrating him that I still balk at anything I precieve as lacking grace, being so.. undignified...  I argue with myself, remding myself that i will be horribly dissapointed if we end things like this, that I DO trust him, that I LOVE the spanking, And I am shaking and as red as a girl gets in motirification... But I drag myself over.
In true mind play fashion, he had to rearrange me a bit, making sure to really point out just how 'lovely ' it is to see an 'upturned and so very exposed backside positioned for so very many wonderful things" (sigh)... Then of course he has to talk non stop, about how he figures we should test some limits, seeings how he has not seemed to have 'made much of an impression' last time we played (no marks hahahaha..)

I argued a bit, but was already getting all subby (breathless, feeling helpless..)
I hear the swishy noise of the cane and tense with a whimper and he chuckles, which brings me out of it a bit.... and I start to breathe, relax muscles one at a time, letting my mind just go...
He started with little wrist flicks, which leaves a girl sting, but nothing worth kicking feet over, just prepping the nerves and just as I start to relax, thinking, I oh so can do this he lands a perfect line right in the middle.. And I am thinking... oooh that didn't hurt at all!! And I let out my held breath just as the sensory data hits my brain which of course makes me do a strange hissing squeaky noise. 

Smart man, he waits.. lets me breath through it... then back to the tap tap tap then harder tap tap tap then harder yet TAP TAP TAP and I am wiggling and struggling to bring my bound hands back, strugling as the next line lands barely below the other..

And so it continues, until I am crying silent tears, wet to the knees, and so very very close to using my safeword...
And I find myself curled up against a strong chest, hair being smoothed, temple being kissed, lovely things being murmured about how awesome I am, how proud he is that I was able to conquer it, how exquistely gorgeous that was, you know.. pillow talk, lol  Warpped in his arms still he turns me a bit, one hand checking to make sure no skin broken, tumbles us back in the bed, and snuggles me into his side, lots of cuddling and crooning. 

Then.. after I am calm, giggling and talking, he asks me if I ahve "had enough" for now.  I laugh. Give him wide eyes.. and say, "of course not! but not sure my ass will agree with me." He nudges me over to check again on skin and says... 'mmm .. nope you are done for today.. likely for a couple weeks" I laughed... all teh way up to seeing the bruises the next day... I guess he is laughing now..
*pout*
*addenendum Although this story has been oh so changed from real to what you read here, The caning did happen, the bruises are there and this glutton, less than a week later is already starting to gear up for another spanking...Exam stress, who me?

so burnt out..

Exams.. What was I thinking?
Six courses, two more in intersession and another three over summer... I want that PHD I DO!!! but I am sooo tired.
So very very tired.Tired of reading big words.  Tired of typing big words, tired of citations, text books, power points, hard chairs, crappy coffee, no sleep, tutoring, note taking, tired of all of it.
And still short three hundred to pay for my next two courses... with no clue what am gonna do about that.
I need a temporary sweetie.  I need someone to cuddle me and watch tv, to rub my neck, encourage me to keep trucking, and hold the pieces of the house together while I am working.
I need someone here throughout the week to kick my ass into gear when I am on not focussing, to dance me around the kitchen laughing, to wake me up with good morning spankings...
Sadly though, I am not ready for a 'realtionship'.. I don't have the time, money, or energy to give to a partner right now.  I don't have the fortitude to deal with the dance of lies, the deception... (be honest people, the person you meet is not the person that moves in.. There is a morphing phenomena that happens when that first box of personal items crosses the doorway... BAM! no more sweetie, welcome couch sloth..) and perhaps I am still a bit cynical..
Sigh... Come here mr. frog..

To Submit or Not to Submit

To Submit or Not to Submit,
That is the question

Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer

The slings and arrows of honest self exposed

Or to take wit against a sea of dominants

And by so opposing, so to repel them. To falsely resist, to gently submit--

No more--and by resist to say we end

The obedience, and the thousand natural submissions

That flesh is heir to. 'Tis a consummation

Devoutly to be wished, silently feared. To falsely resist, to gently sumbit--

To submit--perchance to risk: ay, there's the rub,

For in that risk of exposed self what dreams may come

When we have our shields dismissed, our soul bare,

Must give us pause. There's the respect

That makes calamity of so habitual resistance

For who would bear the ropes and whips of demands,

Th' submissive's wrong, the proud Dominant's contumely

The pangs of unaccepted love, the truth's delay,

The insolence of false resistance, and the spurns

That patient merit of th' unworthy takes,

When she herself might her submission make

With a bared soul? Who would uphold yet bare,

To moan and tremble under a patient hand,

But that the dread of something after exposure,

The undiscovered truths, from whose bourn

No falseness returns, puzzles the will,

And makes us rather bear those false truths we have

Than fly to others that we know not of?

Thus conscience does make cowards of us all,

And thus the native hue of resistance

Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of fear,

And enterprise of gentle pain and release

With this regard their shame turns them awry

And lose the name of action. -- Soft you now,

The fair Dominant! -- Sirrah, in thy knowing hands

Be all my weaknesses forgiven.

I am a Princess!

Princess:

prin·cess

 [prin-sis, -ses, prin-ses]

1.a nonreigning female member of a royal family.

2History/Historical . a female sovereign or monarch; queen.

3.the consort of a prince.

4.(in Great Britain) a daughter or granddaughter (if the child of a son) of a king or queen.

5.a woman considered to have the qualities or characteristics of a princess.

6. a woman who has value and worth as an individual, and as such is entitled to respect, attention, nurture and spankings.

(I added the last word)

Good Girls Get Spankings

Well, they should.  Or at least THIS good girl should.

LOTS and lots and lots and lots and lots of spankings.

It is a fine line to walk, between being a good girl who has a strong sense of justice and fairness, and being a girl that LOVES to be otk.  (over the knee). The more spankings I get the happier I am.  I prefer male spankers, being fairly hetero in my tastes.  Being able to be comfortable with my own prediliction for being manhandled and finding it erotic; while simultaneously whole heartedly believing in equality of value between genders is a fun but complex dance.

I am not ashamed by my enjoyment of it however.  Being spanked works for me.  I just flat out love it, I find it ertoic, relaxing, challenging, intellecutally mind blowing and it is intristic to my sexuality.
So... As I am a good girl by nature and would hate to turn into a girl that makes poor choices in order to get what she wants, my vote is:
Good Girls Get Spankings. And those spankings should be available as much as possible. :)

When Good Girls are Bad

What happens when a good girl is bad?

I have my days.  Sometimes the weight of my responsibilities and my coping strategies do NOT align and I fall a little. There are days I am not sure if I can keep going.  I am human.  I mess up.

Sometimes, even while still being a GOOD GIRL, things go wrong.  I make a mistake, I loose my cool, I hurt someone, I let someone down.

As I am a compassionate person, I feel horrible when that happens.  Which is why I like to argue that I am NEVER a bad girl.

When good girls are bad, it hurts our feelings.  We carry our wrong-doing close to our heart.  We hold on to it, examining, trying to make sense of it.  We need to understand it, so that we can learn from it.
There is no punishment that someone could give me that would make me feel worse than I instinctively do when I have fallen, failed or caused someone else to hurt.

When good girls are bad, they punish themselves, emotionally and mentally.

Why? Because they are gooood girls. 

There are times when I am not being a good girl, but I THINK I am.  It may not be a good idea to try to punish me for that either, as if I oh so do not think I have done anything wrong, I will not 'accept' your damned punishment.

However, if you are on my list of trusted persons, or even share your point of view in an adult manner, I will likely hear you.  I may not process it in that moment.  I may not agree right away.  But I try to be on it.  I do!

~.o

Princess Spanking Weekend omfg...

This is going to be a long post, lol...
So I returned yesterday from my journey and adventure to the grand city of E.  And it truly was an adventure...in so many ways.:)

I have never taken a road trip before, in which I am the driver.  This of course, did not really occur to me until I was nearly to the city of GP and realized that I had done it!! ALL by MYSELF!! I imagine that not many people will get just what a victory that is, but  it really was.  Hurrah for big girl panties. 
The drive was lovely.  The sun was shining for the most part, I saw a mommy moose and her overly large offspring near DC, another large moose by GP and a couple of lovley scenic views. My MP3 player was blasting, I was singing and had the cruise set for under the speed limit. I saw many officers pulling people over and was grateful that I am a cowardly driver.  I had no troubles following the directions and navigated my way quite nicely.

I was burning gas though, which of course annoys me greatly, but still... small potatoes, right?  I made the stops I had arranged, and headed to my weekend of fun.
I nearly made my destination when my lovely vehichle chose to no longer have a working transmission. Thank fully I had stopped for the restroom and was not driving when the transmission chose to no longer be intact. I am not sure if anyone knew this, but a vehicle does not drive well without one. 

Just saying.

It made awful metal on metal grinding noises, lurched but did not move. I sat and weighed my options, wondering what to do, exactly.  Fairly certain that popping the hood in my thigh high stockings and short skirt was not the best idea, and being that it was late thursday of the easter long weekend, I sighed sadly in defeat...  I had to call the gentleman I was meeting to come and get me.

What a way to meet a lady, no?  "Hello! I am a complete and utter nitwit who can't even get to your house... how hot am I now?"  (sigh). I sat at that station long enough to earn some highly curious looks from the folk that were there, as I tried to will my car to fix itself.  I am not sure if this is an 'angelism' but I am quite terrible at being helpless. I did suck it up and text my new playmate for help.

Thankfully the gentleman in question (I am going to call him Sir OCD until he gives me a play name to use, because us princesses are bratty like that! :)... ) anyways, Sir OCD was very gentlemanly and thus did not laugh (too much) nor hold my woes against me, but navigated the broken car into a stall, gathered me and my many bags and chafeured me to his lovely home with an amazing smile, gentle hand up into the truck and warm hug.

If anyone knows this man, let him know that this alone is worth many points... truly appreciate it.

I will not kiss and tell tooooo much (because that is of course quite rude) However....Some things are just too magical to not share.

What an amazing weekend!! After being worried about going (so out of my comfort zone, really) and being reassured that this could be done safely, I found myself loving every princess moment of the weekend. (aside from teh transmission)

Sir OCD graciously had me in his home for a few days, chilavrously made all the arrangements for my vehicle, was able to keep my mind off of it for the majority of our time together, which speaks for itself really. Consider too, how focused I can get on things... So Kudos Sir OCD well played.   He drove me back and forth to RK's with nary a complaint. Not by word, gesture or even expression. Not once made me feel as if I was intruding. 

With an engaging smile, dinners were cooked for me (as I write this I am eating chili from a can and wondering if he rents out as a chef... good grief, I have NEVER eaten so well and yet so healthily at the same time.... I want to learn to cook like that...)  I was complimented, cuddled, petted, kissed and coddled till I was completely princessed out. Not once was I asked to clean anything or even in a position to open a door for myself.  I was allowed to bask in the attention, purr for the petting and kissing, with not one negative comment.  NOT ONE!!! I struggled a bit (Stop laughing my red headed gal pal... I mean it) with it-not used to being coddled lol.

I thought I had experienced being a princess, but I now know I had no idea.  Simply none.  Don't get me wrong!! I have all kinds of good memories to go with the not so good ones of past relationships... but my weekend at Sir OCDs certainly redefined what being spoiled and adored feels like. This spoiling healed some hurts I hadn't realized I was still carrying. 

I have never eaten so well, been treated so sweetly, kissed so gently and spanked so firmly.... I was giggling, blushing, astonished and bowled over...All that and a lavishment of attention, amazing conversation, a down duvet (omg I oh so want that... ) waking up to sunshine on my face... It was like going to a spa where a hottie is giving out amazing spankings... Realy ladies, I oh so reccomend you try it...

Even the spanking, which you all know is my favorite passtime, was completely out of my realm of experience.  Every excuse to take me over his knee was delivered with the most amazingly open grin, an oh so heart achingly gentle hand guiding me over his knee, the gentle firmness of that hand at my hip, offering the threat of restraint if needed... each swat with purpose, but not even the tiniest bit of force used that was more than needed... the strength contrasted with such tender care to be lifted so carefully, cuddled in and petted.. I nearly fainted...Of course, those deceptively calm swats intensified as time went by, both as we became more comfortable and as my poor backside became more sensitive... His hands just seeming to know how to and where to swat to maximize the time or reaction-depending on what he was looking for... oh my. 

Yet after three days of spankings, many of which had me kicking my feet and struggling to get a hand free, (anyone that thinks this isn't surprising can ask RK... really.. I am not a struggler)... barely a mark.... Wow, hey?  I have a new hated spanking implement, which is a plastic bath brush... Sir OCD, that really needs to go... truly... what a mean thing...I liked it on a fresh backside.. but not after the fourth or fifth spanking...*pout* If you decide you want to get together again, I am oh so bringing you a gift..  Perhaps a Furry Paddle? *laugh*

And to be stepping out of the shower and have Sir OCD appear and lovingly place my still wet self over his knee, with his foot resting on the side of the tub for a good morning, wet bottom spanking was beyond amazing... One of those always fantasized about silly things that just was perfect in real life... wow.  Seriously!!! Wet bottom not quite out of the tub spaknings!!! I kid you not!!!! For no reason!!
To be kissed so sweetly as I am told what a brat I am, kissed so sweetly after a spanking, kissed so sweetly and thanked for any smallest effort.. oh my.  And don't mistake me, sweet does not mean the opposite of yummy... just that I have no words for that kissing style.. none...Sweet is the closest I can come up with... utterly tender? Kisses that left me breathless, knees weak and eyes in teh back of my head.   And I am not a kissy girl!!! Or I guess I wasn't? I mean, I like to kiss, but holy shit... LMFAO.. wow.

Hands stroking my tush, my legs, my back, my hair, my belly, my arms... sweet goddess... The contrast of tender and firm nearly undid me a few times...ok.. I admit it.. nearly is just a way to pretend I am not blushing beet red at the mere memory.. Just... oh ... so ... yummy...

Aside from a short break in which I visited some lovely friends, From my arrival thrusday till I left sunday morning Sir OCD lavished attention on me, spoiled me and spanked me until I was a puddle of dreamy eyed princess wonder. How amazing is that?

"But at the end of the day" (grin, do I get trouble now?) I was glowing with the attention, Postiviely giddy, glowing and relaxed.   I was sleeping like a log (and we will pretend that I do NOT snore thank you) and waking up with a bright smile.  More important, though (and this is oh so funny) is that I learned that I DO have it in me to adore being treated as if I am adored.  That there are men who cherish, give of themselves freely.

I have hope.. hope that there is a future for me that includes romance, love, flowers, spoiling, spankings, amazing fun and good conversation.  I really hadn't thought such things could go hand in hand... I mean... romance and spoiling AND rules and spanking?? really????
Sweetness and firmness?
Openness but with limits?
 I am spoiled quite beyond recognition, truly and my eyes have been opened up to just how.... bitter I was letting myself get.  Which is ok, I earned that bitterness I think...but I can let that go now... and work on moving forward instead of having all these regrets and hurts, cynicisms and being so self reliant that I don't allow anyone in... and therefore cut myself off from living a full life...

Now I just need to work on meeting some of my own goals... of getting RK&f paid back for the rescue and making sure that I am striving towards being a very whole and healthy person who is able to bring more than a willing bottom and naive grin.  And I oh so will...Knowing that the tenderhearted part of me is NOT broken is priceless..
Not what was negotiated for, so that part is an incredible gift that was so unexpected.
So thanks Sir... for letting me experience such amazingly delicious tenderness, such incredible spankings all from your very wonderful self... I fell in love a wee bit, like I said, and for that I thank you too! You made this princess believe in romance, and that is one hell of a gift.
xxx

Reassurance and AfterCare

After care, once explained, seems like such common sense... To be able to give someone that level of trust... to drop all those little pretenses that protect us in the work a day world... well it leaves a person quite vulnerable.  When you add all those amazing emotions and intense sensations and ind play... things can get a little hairy.
So ... aftercare!! I get the concept, but after a spanking, or a playtime, I am doe eyed, sure, a bit befuddled, but SO ENERGIZED!! I want to go dance, sing in the shower, jump on the bed, talk for hours.. (I don't get to do those things, but I oh so want to!!) I have stayed on that high for days, were I glow like a girl in love LOVE love!
But... regardless of how attentive, how sweet and considerate my playmate is in gently bringing me back from taht play state to the real world, I do eventually come down a bit. (I love that I sound so experienced!!! Three months and I am a pro, really... too funny.. mind you, been getting upturned over a knee for nearly my entire adulthood...)
Anyways, I do start to come down off the glow.  And something I have noticed, is right after play I feel so GOOD!! I feel safe, sexy, confident, adored,-my world is right.  To me, that is what I get from subnitting.. I get that amazing feeling of rightness. 
But slowly, real life leaks back in.. and I start to second guess myself a little..  Or rather, I begin to wonder if I am fun to play with, did I do ok, did I do anything wrong...and then the little girl guilt kicks in.
But because I am in this goshforsaken area, and also am still working on being a very whole and capable person, I am not in a 'relationship'.  So when I do come down and need the reassurance, then what?  I am finding I can go three days to two weeks before that hits me.. I work on it of course.. I remind myself that if I said or did something not to my playmates liking that it is THEIR responsiblility to say so. That I am going to have to deal with my little pile of guilt for having so much fun without marriage, lol. 
Intellectually I get it. There is no reason for me to feel that anyone that I come to has to be my life meet... But I still struggle to reassure tha tlittle girl, the one that is nine, sitting at grandma's table being told that GOOD GIRLS do NOT let boys touch them..
I wonder sometimes if other women who have been married forever and then end up single and explore find themselves strugglign with this at times? I wonder too if anyone else finds that they need the aftercare hugs days later-am I just a slow processer?
Thoughts to ponder...
It is odd to me, too, that when you are setting up a play date there is all this communication, the tension is built with all those interactions before hand (hahaha, three months, and again I sound like the expert..) I quite enjoy that buildup... Then of course playtime is excellent (knock on wood, and thanks RK for keeping me safe) then there is the refactory period where there is nothing.  So I wonder too if I am just suffering from withdrawl...
I guess I am allowed, after so much time skin starved, never mind actual sex, or spankigs, or playfullness or even positive attitudes... well, this whole spanko/bdsm community is like a haven for me. 
Ah well.   off to study for my exams and leave this puzzle for another day.. If I sound down, I am nt really.  Stresed over my student budget and exams, but otherwise thigns are good.
Hugs and  laughter

Making sweet lemonade

You know...
I have been accused a time or too of being annoying.  I tend to refuse to really dwell on the negative, to try and make lemonade with every sour piece of fruit I see (not just lemons!) and I am oh so aware that this is a great skill when applied to my own craptastic adventures and yet not so lovely when applied to say..... yours.
So, when things pile up and I am really, really starting to get negative, I find it incredibly that I end up in the presence of a very positive person (or several of such) to remind me to let negativity become instead learned wisdom, knowledge, insight, growth-to remember that all bad things have a flip side.
Being married twice, for different reasons, to men I thought were as different as night and day, and to have both marriages slowly morph into the same nonsense was disheartening to say the least.  More so this time around, because I had really believed I had found someone to be peaceful with.  I thought I was going to be the princess forever and ever.
When that ended, I wrapped my grief and bitterness around me like a cape of "get away", which is to be expected...except I forgot the next stage.  I forgot the part where you ditch that cape for a cloak of reflection to find those positives, then move on-take the lessons and go.
T was what I needed at that time, i think.  I am not happy, of course, with the continued need he has to create a wee bit of drama on occasion, but I am trying to forgive, myself and him so I can just move on.
Afterall, I learned a great deal from him.  I learned that I am a sucker for being a princess, that I do NOT need my toxic family in my life (I can do it without the drama!! Who KNEW!!!) and he allowed me to rediscover being both weak and strong... I needed these things.
So, here is my pitcher of lemonade... Thanks T, for picking up the pieces when D&I divorced.  I was a devastated woman and you picked me up, dusted me off, and sent me on my way. 
Perhaps the rain is ended and I can have my rainbow fucking rainbow now (grins to you girl for the phrase of the century)
hugs and laughter,

About Good Girls

I am a good girl!

In order for anyone to understand that we need to have some understanding on what that means to me. Some of you feminists are likely upset over my choice of language.  I understand that.  Too bad. :)

I am a good girl.  I do my chores, I meet my responsibilities and try to be self aware.  I keep my house clean, I take care of myself.  I pay my bills.  I work hard and try not to judge.
See? I am a good girl. I love being female.  I do not agree with the law treating me as leasser because of it, nor with being treated with discrimination, hatred, disrespect and dismissal just because I have a vagina rather than a penis. What I don't understand, however, is how the woman's right movement took away the dignity and honor of having a female body and being proud of my femininity. This body allowed me to bring three wonderful lives into the world, this body is part of who I am but in no way is the totality of who I am.

 I am not ashamed of my sexuality, my intelligence nor of my integrity.  If I can remain assertive in the face of societal sexism, legal sexism but have to cower in the face of feminist sexism, wherefore is the gain?

 I like people who are strong in character.  I am not ashamed of that either. I have high expectations of myself, and love to have people around me that are assertive (not aggressive) and will help me to keep raising that bar.  I want to grow!!  Even when it is uncomfortable and challenges my belief in who I am-I want to grow.

To me, that is a good girl.  It is all about being good with who you are, knowing that there is room to grow and reaching for it.  Having boundaries that are flexible enough to allow for the benefits of intimacy but strong enough to maintain mental and physical wellbeing.

Being a good girl is not about obedience, or putting up with people treating you poorly.  It is not about being polite.  It is certainly not about never exploring sexually, intellectually or physically.  Being a good girl means I try to balance my responsibilities and still have my needs met.  That I can accept the cherishing of others, ask for help, apologize for wrong doing, and try for compassion instead of being defensive.

Being good is being happy without infringing on the happiness of others.

I am a good girl. I admit though, I am better at some parts of being good than I am on others, better on different days, in different situations.

I am, however, a good girl.

Kink... Just another pigeon hole?

Isn't it interesting that in a group that exists to allow acceptance of those who are considered "outside the box" due to their sexuality, that one is immediately asked to find a box to fit in as per the mainstream groups found here?
I had to giggle over the choices when making my profile. Even in our fetishes, we are categorizing, classifying, grouping and generalizing. Are you a sub? bottom? male? TG? GQ? Master? Goddess? Protector? Princess? Do you like whips? whipcream? chocolate? Saran Wrap? (now I am hungry.. sigh)
I am horrible with terminology, as many who know me can certainly attest to !
I tend to get hung up on needing that term, that label or this category, defined, explained, examined, applied, tested and redefined. I tend to reject them out of hand, have people I trust and respect ask me to rethink it, and have to acknowledge, begrudgingly, that maybe.. MAYBE that label sort of fits.
Words can hurt! They have power! And labels not only lend to a definitive cast upon the person they are applied to, but they encourage limitations, they are confining, ambiguous. They contradict!
I oh so do not like ambiguity.
And yet, everyone of us defines ourselves with labels and terminology that may not have the same meaning to another. I am a bottom, certainly, if bottom means, "glutton to be spanked, teased, paddled, flogged, caned, etc". But it doesnt seem to mean that to anyone but me! i am a sub, i suppose, if by sub you mean "becomes submissive when with someone she trusts, in situations where she feels she safe and treasured, usually those situations are sensual or sexual in nature" Again though, that is my definition. I am a slave if you mean, "for a set period of negotiated time she gives teh right to another to make all decisions for her within her agreed upon and discusses limitations" (haha, but for me that period of time is likely less than a couple of hours.. just saying).
I am a top if you mean that I get pleasure from creating a scene for someone's enjoyment. I am a dominant if by dominant you mean that I like to get my way, I am sometimes bossy and capable of looking after myself and anything and anyone else I choose. I am a sadist if you mean that I can become sexually aroused by someone elses struggle to accept the overload of sensations that I can create. I am a masochist if you mean that what causes pain to many causes me intense sexual pleasure and well being.
But I tend to see those things more like a sliding scale. I do not see being a Top and a Bottom as oppositional, but rather different perspecitves of sensation play. I do not see Dominant and Submissive as opposites, but rather each is their own quality that we each posess some of. Johnny may be an 8 on a 1-10 scale of dominance, and be a 6 on a 1-10 scale of submissiveness. I think most of the BDSM labels are overgneralized, when they can be so situation specific, so partner specific and mood driven.
I don't want a pigeon hole! I certainly don't enjoy being told, "your profile lists you as a thisorthat but you just spoke like a thatorthis" so WHAT!?
I am a person, with varying moods, varying skills. Today I might crave being pinned over a knee, getting the hell spanked out of me until I am in tears and struggling like mad, and tomorrow I may crave the satisfaction of holding those floggers in my hand, watching the skin I am whacking pinken and swell so wonderfully. So what? Why must I enjoy only what someone else wants for me to enjoy? Why do we, us humans, feel that we need to match up with someone that enjoys sex the exact same way we do, rather than enjoy the diversity of each persons skill set, interests and quirks?
Still, all ranting and my own quirks against labels aside, This community is amazing. So many people with such a wide variety of interests, attitudes and so forth. How .. YUMMY
Enjoy..
~.o

Words have power

Words... Strange creatures they are, those words.
Such power.
They can make my heart skip, a flush creep along my skin, till I am tingling from head to toe with need...
They can leave me wet, gasping, blushing or trembling with anticipation.
Oh those words, the words that convey such hot, succulent meaning.
Those words that build such erotic, tantalizing and vivid pictures in my mind, oh yummmm.
I live for those words.
Powerful words of lust, joy, sensuality-words that wrap my thoughts in tangles of pleasure and trepidation, pleasure and pain, oh my.
You know what words can do, you boys. You use some words oh so well.
So why is it such a surprise to so many,
That if words have the power to make us wet, or horny, or filled with longing and need, that words can sting. They can wound. They can set us adrift, lost and alone.
Those words, that leave me hurting, raw, desolate. They are not needed, rarely used for good purpose but rather in anger, in hurt.
They can leave me in tears, my spirit bruised, my trust dented.
Such words as those, that convey such bitternes, such a lashing out. Do they serve your purpose as well?
I cry for those words.
Words have power. Will you use your power to create magic? To intrigue me, pull me to you, my skin starved for you my eyes lit up for you, a ball of aching need, wanton abandon, wicked delight and throaty laughter?
will you use them to create pain? To discourage me, push me from you, my sould wounded and my eyes filled with tears for you, shoulders bent in pain, lips trembling, chest heaving, my back as I leave, shuddering with the burden of those words?
Sigh... Words have such power.
powerful words.
Words are weapons, They have power.
If you are intelligent, you know