Monday, June 29, 2009


Anticipation can be a big part of play. I love the idea of knowing what's going to happen (at least, to some degree) and having to wait for days, maybe even weeks or longer if you're meeting someone from further away.

In my experience the reality usually surpasses the fantasy. I'll remember the rush I got from a painful scene, and I'll imagine myself much braver than I end up being in the face of the real pain. A good top will not let me off easy, and will push me through to the place I need to be -- and that means it is going to really hurt. It is hard to go through.

A trepidation rises up right before meeting someone. I always tell myself to try not to think about what's going to happen, and that "whatever he gives you, you will take -- and you will survive." ("Survive" used rather loosely, depending upon the condition of your bottom.)

When I lived and worked in South Jersey, I used to play with a dom who lived a little north of Philly. That meant leaving work on time (not always possible) and dealing with the traffic on I-95. Even if I left on time, inevitably I'd be watching the clock in the car, nervousness increasing as it became more and more obvious that I wouldn't make it there on time.

This particular dom was VERY intense and scary. He'd beat me hard, late or not, so my anxiety was legitimate. Truth was, deep down he was a "normal," caring, real person, so he always understood when I was late and never really got angry. He simply used it as an excuse to give me more of what I already needed.

But oh, the dread I always felt sitting in that car, the tingling, pulsing, fear-induced excitement that sent hot waves through me ...

These days I feel so jaded, compared to my relative innocence and newness back then. He was one of the first tops I'd played with who wasn't a boyfriend, and I was just beginning my serious exploration of the scene.

Now I don't have as many nervous butterflies. Sometimes they stay hidden away until the moment I walk in and see an implement that I hadn't expected. Then it suddenly hits me: "Oh, shit, this is going to hurt!"

Saturday, June 27, 2009

Beautiful scenes

At the Manhattan Spanking Association party last night, Rad put me over his knee and spanked me really, really hard. I don't think he and I have played that hard in a while. He only used his hand, but as many of you know, he's got a very hard hand, and he was relentless. I was squirming and struggling for much of it.

He also got right into my head space with his lecturing. He ordered me to stay on track with my diet and exercise or else. I was well-behaved at MSA -- only ate fruit -- but at the earlier parties I'd eaten some junk. I love cheese puffs and I ate quite a lot of them at the first party we'd attended. I was nervous about being late to the second party (a family birthday party) we had to go to, and I just sort of sat there eating the cheese doodles until we could officially say goodbye.

I had a good workout yesterday. As soon as I'm done this blog, and this cup of coffee next to me, I'm going for a walk and probably back to the handball courts. I had lots of fun practicing handball yesterday. I found out I was using the wrong ball, though. I had two different balls, and I checked in yesterday morning with a guy I know who plays a lot of handball. He said it was the other ball that I was supposed to be using. Oh, well.

Do I need to mention that one reason I have been wanting to start handball (other than it always looks like so much fun?) is that I'm hoping it'll toughen up my spanking hand and arm. Yesterday I dished out a couple of respectable spankings (what do you think, J? -- respectable enough for you? Em., don't even say it -- I KNOW I needed to go harder on you.) and I LOVE doing that but it can wear you out.

I've always admired a top who gives a good hand spanking. It's like the most natural thing to do in this scene. I don't know if I'll ever be one of those who can keep going and going and going, but I can certainly strive toward that lofty goal.

Friday, June 26, 2009

What I look for in a top

I think there some tops in the scene who feel left out. This is just based on what I sometimes observe at parties and in on-line forums or groups. There is a smaller group of tops toward whom many female bottoms tend to gravitate — and why?

Of course I can only speak for myself. There is a certain quality I seek in a top. But I tend to approach this more often from the view of my submissive side. When I play, I want to play with someone who's got confidence — and even a degree of arrogance. I want someone who will take charge, even for a short time at a play party, but especially if we're doing a longer, more private scene.

Of course, there are times when I play and I'm not submitting — it may be more sensual play (like a "nice" flogging), or just physical impact play. I may be completely topping from the bottom; I may simply ask a top to strap me because that's what I feel I need that night. In those cases, the dominant or arrogant personality isn't necessary. But still, there has to be something there. I still need the confidence, the idea that he knows he is special, that IF he is turned down by one play partner it's not a big deal, he will shake it off and move on.

If, physically, a top is attractive (of course this is very subjective), he MAY have an advantage over someone else, all other things being equal. However, if I see a guy at a party who is topping only women who could be models, I doubt I would approach him. Who needs to be told she is too old, or too heavy, or not sexy enough?

But my main point is that it's not looks by any means that will guarantee women will play with a top. There has to be confidence, some experience, a sense of humor, and definitely a respect conveyed to me as an equal — before and after I submit.

Then there are personality traits that, if I see evidence of them, will definitely push me away from playing with a top. A few that come to mind are: 1) negativity. 2) obvious lack of self-confidence. 3) a dislike of or a bitterness toward women. 4) being overbearing and pushy (not the same as arrogance).

Monday, June 22, 2009

For the f' of it

No reason for the new look; I was just a little bored and wanted to try something different. Still have to get off my lazy butt and write something, which I am not doing enough of.

oh, I'm not really lazy -- I've been running around like crazy doing too many things. Time to focus...

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

It's Tuesday, but...

(but I wrote this yesterday and didn't get the chance to post it till now.)

Am I the only one who has a hard time with getting work done on a Monday? I can't be, right? Everyone hates the start of the work week, I know. But this seems to go beyond a dislike for work. I feel mentally and emotionally incapable of performing, of settling down, getting organized ... incapable of remembering what my priorities are. I won't exaggerate and say that on a Monday I forget everything, but sometimes it feels close to that.

There is a certain part of my job that I don't like doing. This was one of those new duties that was added to my already full plate about six months ago, with little direction from the powers-that-be who had decided we NEEDED this thing done.

Ever get something like this at work?: "We want to create this new department for our publication. We're not exactly sure what the content should be, but we want you to figure that out, because ... you're so good at what you do. (see what I did there? -- I threw in a little compliment. In my management training they said compliments will motivate employees). Yes, you figure it out then come back and present your ideas. We'll tell you they look all right and give you the go ahead to write the stories. Somewhere close to deadline, we'll reject half of the stories, having suddenly decided they don't work -- and we'll express surprise when you argue for keeping them in. So we'll toss in another compliment about how good you are at what you do and how happy we are that you are working for us. That will make it all better while you go scramble for new stories."

Thing is, I AM good at what I do, but when you have a moron for a boss who can't make a decision to save her life, it gets really really hard to do your job. Do you know on Friday, my birthday, she said "happy birthday" to me about eight times? At one point she said "congratulations." I think I just blinked at that one.

Yesterday she asked me how I celebrated my birthday. I just looked at her and said, "You know, it really wasn't that big of a deal."

And it is now 6:38 and I have to go BACK to work for another day of joy. Of course I'd rather be getting a spanking. See what I did there? -- I threw in the word "spanking." That will make it all better.

Sunday, June 14, 2009

On birthdays, bratting and play

My birthday was nice but low-key. Rad took me out to a Cajun place in our neighborhood, Bourbon Street, where I indulged in catfish prepared with a caramelized onion topping and fried spinach on top of that – quite interesting and yummy; but way too much food, and I took more than half home with me. He bought me dark, dark chocolate for dessert ... we split it later. Mmmm.

Saturday night we went to Paddles to hear a presentation by Jules of Strictly Spanking New York (SSNY). She led a panel on “Having fun in the scene,” and it covered LOTS of hot topics including “appropriate” vs. “inappropriate” bratting (one can make a good argument in favor of bratting as a means to facilitate play OR to tell a top that he can go harder without actually using the words -– which many bottoms are loathe to do); “appropriate” vs. “inappropriate” touching -- and what to do when inappropriate touching happens; communication between a top and a bottom to figure out compatibility; how to stop a scene when it's not going well; and several other things. It was a lively discussion with lots of questions and feedback from the audience. Oh, yes, they also insisted on me coming up on stage to get a birthday spanking. I protested vehemently!

Rad gave me a hot birthday strapping later, with me lying down across the padded bed in the side room. There was a cute girl tied up nearby and her top was apparently doing nasty evil things to her, so she was making more noise than me. But occasionally I let out a howl when Rad got me with the nastier of the two straps.

I also got a firm spanking from my friend Gary, who's always fun. He just had to pull out that nasty bath brush. Brr. I hate that thing! But he was nice and only gave me a few.

I did not get to cane J. because he was with a friend and they had to leave early. But I did top another friend, H., who can also take a good caning – and he asked me for it, which is even better.

Heads' up – over the last week I've been getting my new professional website ready. It is about to go live; I have a few minor things to adjust and as soon as they are done I'll post the link here.

Friday, June 12, 2009

It's that time of year again...

... when everyone has to stop what they're doing and say "Happy Birthday" to me... or ... just keep doing whatever you're doing, I'm okay either way. It's just a birthday; everybody has one eventually. Happy birthday, too, to my "twin," Anna. (and best of luck with your move tomorrow; we'll miss you!)

Rad got me the sweetest, most romantic card and gave it to me at midnight. He said it brought tears to his eyes so he HAD to buy it. I don't usually go for the long sentimental ones but this was a good one. He wrote, "congratulations on being one year hotter." hee hee. I love that guy...

He also bought me Ghiardelli chocolate -- intense dark, 72% cacao. That'll be dessert later...

Meanwhile, my mom called me three days ago to wish me happy birthday -- "in case she forgets later," she says. This is an indication of how dippy my family is: My brother had sent me a birthday card four or five months ago, saying he liked the card and wanted to make sure he didn't forget.

My mom's card arrived yesterday (she probably mailed it three days ago, which is why she called). There's a cat (a fat orange cat, of course; the best kind) on the front. He's got a nasty expression on his face and he's smoking a cigarette. There's a full ashtray of butts on the floor next to him. (I think the dirty look he's giving is to whatever disgusting human stuck a lit cigarette in his mouth -- unless it was Photoshopped in -- I hope so; that's not nice to do to a kitty).

Inside the card it says, "You behaving yourself?" Ok ... Does my mom KNOW something about me?

I was in the middle of writing this blog and Paul interrupted me to give me my birthday spanking. 6 a.m. -- the guy downstairs is going to love us -- ah, f*** him and deny everything!

We are going to Paddles tomorrow night. Jules from Strictly Spanking New York and some others in our crew will be leading a panel for the TES spanking group on "Having Fun with Spanking." I'll have to see what that's all about, since I consider spanking a VERY SERIOUS matter.

Tuesday, June 9, 2009

First day back...

And here we go ... about to get into the shower and get my ass ready for work. Is my ass EVER ready for work? I don't think so. Most days I manage to fake it well enough. Most days I get the job done. But damn, I hate working! And it's so hard to come back after several days away. I did check my work emails last night to prepare myself a little bit, refresh my memory as to what I needed to work on.

It didn't really help; it only served to increase my anxiety at returning. Oh, well. I'll do my best, spend the first hour organizing and then just taking one thing at a time.

We had a terrific, thundering and crashing and booming thunderstorm in Queens last night. It woke me up! I think the cats were scared -- Buster was mournfully crying outside our door. Rad got up because he couldn't sleep and I guess he talked to the kitties a bit to calm them down. Speaking of which, I was so happy to get them home again. I hate having to leave them at the vet and I always miss them. On vacation, I'm half expecting Rocky's yowls outside our door to wake us up.

I might have a tiny bit more to say about FMS, but don't want to beat it to death. Time to move on...

Monday, June 8, 2009

Crankypants at the airport

Thanks to no traffic, fast check in and barely any security line, we are at the airport with time to spare. There's free internet at Tampa International, so here we are, connected.

Goodbyes suck. We held court in the lobby for an hour or so, finally, reluctantly, rising to go pack the last few items and head out. I've fed my addiction for four-and-a-half days, now it's time to crash and burn and face the real world again. For some reason, this seems harder than ever. And I'm not even on the plane yet.

We've got a whole bunch of New Yorkers/SSNYers on the same plane, including Richard Windsor, Jules, J., L., C. ... maybe others. Richard was checking in when we arrived. Last night he was still gloating over his Trivia win. But this morning I think everyone was too tired for such silliness.

Met some interesting people this weekend. Brad from Md. said he wanted to hook up for dinner last night, so we checked in with him and he was at a Mexican place down the road. We drove over and joined him along with J., L., and Craig and Cindy from California. All very nice people. Cindy is a writer and in publishing so we were having a long conversation about that, and about writing in general.

As the conversation went on, I suddenly heard Craig mention Erica Scott. "Oh, you guys know Erica?" I said. They said yes. My brain kicks into gear. "Craig and Cindy? You're Craig and Cindy -- the famous Craig and Cindy from Erica's blog? OMG!" Craig looked very embarrassed but pleased at the connection. Naturally my interest was piqued -- Erica and I have similar play styles and I tend to enjoy playing with some of the same tops she plays with. (No "Single White Female" activity here, I assure you!)

It was late Sunday night and I couldn't take too much more by then. But Craig did work me over quite well and it was a nice session. Thanks for the "recommendation," Erica!

I think we'll be starting to board soon, so I'm wrapping this up. May write some more about the weekend later...

Sunday, June 7, 2009

Few quick notes and observations

... if we had to be defeated in FMS Trivia Contest, I was happy it was by our esteemed colleague and fellow blogger, Richard Windsor...

... I had the HOTTEST takedown spanking scene last night. It was an angry dad/smartass daughter scenario. Don't know if R. knew what he was getting into but he maintained the role throughout and finally kicked my ass. Wow. I needed that.

... did my long-anticipated interrogation scene with M. Another hot scene, of a completely different nature. Thanks for putting me through that, I liked the fear, and getting into that headspace. Damn, that evil thing you used HURT...

... J.P., As always, it was a joy to strap, paddle and cane you. LOVED watching your soft moans of pleasure through the pain, and seeing the lines form across your bottom as the cane whipped down... come to New York soon! ...

... Emily: Last night was a warning. I KNOW you didn't learn any lesson. But at least you were quiet for a few minutes...

... We are having TOO much fun. I don't want to go back to NY tomorrow. NOOOOOO.

Saturday, June 6, 2009

School days

The Florida Moonshine Academy was this morning, and it was the first time I'd attended. I might have mentioned that the authentic school uniform Emily had loaned me looked very much like the real uniform jumper I wore in grade school, even in the same Kelly green.

Imagine 20 girls in three rows, behaving somewhat properly at first but then degenerating into gum-chewing, paper-plane throwing, wise-ass hooligans before class was dismissed. Somehow, there was something about the two headmasters that created chaos, the exact opposite of the order they were hoping to maintain. The punishments were painful but brief -- mostly the cane, Tony's paddle, or Ian's slipper, which is nasty.

I was up front waiting for my report card to be reviewed while Jules was having hers reviewed first. One of the girls near the front (now, I am NOT going to drag my sister under the bus) signaled to me. She whispered, "The slipper! Ian's slipper! Grab it on your way back." I looked for an opening and when I didn't think the headmasters were looking I made a low toss over to the instigator. Wasn't sure what happened to the slipper after that, but it later worked its way to the back row (where a lot of us troublemakers had planted ourselves) and somehow ended up on Kay's left foot. Strange how those things happen.

This was the scariest moment of the academy. Ian discovered his slipper missing, called for order and addressed the class. He said at the count of 10, if no one would reveal where his slipper was, he was going to start at the back, work his way down the row, down the next row, and cane us to tears until the slipper was found or someone owned up. The usual class calls of "Why does the whole class have to get punished?" and, "Come on, this isn't fair!" began. But Ian began to count.

Maria was sitting at the end of the last row and would be the first. I would be the second, Jules the third. Kay was next to Jules. She whispered to the three of us, "Do you want me to confess, or can you take the caning?" Maria and I both said we would take the caning. Jules declined, and Kay said to Jules, "Okay, you give me up when it gets to you." But as Ian neared number "1", Jules changed her mind for all of us, jumped up and said, "It's on Kay's foot!"

Kay protested, called Jules a rat, etc. -- the usual -- and was called to the front for her punishment. I KNOW Ian could probably make me cry, and I'm not always sure I WANT to reveal that vulnerability in front of audience, so I was glad for the reprieve -- in spite of my earlier bravery.

It was such fun. Everyone was smiling at the end. I'm glad I attended.

Tonight is the banquet and the trivia contest. Rad says he's tired of the pressure and will be glad when it's over. Me, my competitive side always kicks in. I DO hate to lose. But we'll make it fun, for sure. Richard Windsor, Gary, and a few others are out for blood.

Friday, June 5, 2009

Out of the gate...

When I get to a big party like Shadow Lane or Florida Moonshine, I often feel immediately overwhelmed by the meeting and greeting of people you run into when you're checking in, walking to your room, etc. Unfortunately there are always one or two that you look at say, "I KNOW I should know his/her name but ... " I had the unfortunate happen. Someone I really SHOULD know -- and I'm not going to say who, but she already knows -- had gotten her hair cut much shorter and was wearing glasses at check-in. Iwas very embarrassed that I had to ask her name. Oh, shit. I hate that. Another guy looked familiar at dinner. I said, "We've met, right?" He said, "Yes, actually, we PLAYED last year." Oh, shit, again. I didn't feel comfortable asking, "Was I on the top or the bottom?" and walked away feeling rather sheepish.

I always feel overwhelmed, right off the bat, at large groups. When the dinner at Crabby Bill's was initially proposed I was NOT chomping at the bit to join in. Later when someone suggested we all go and get separate tables, in more manageable group sizes, I felt much better. I sat at a table of eight and that worked out quite nicely. I got to meet Jada for the first time (I believe this is her second party; her first being Shadow Lane) and the rest at the table were old friends. Nice to catch up.

A photographer employed by Crabby Bill's came around table to table to take pictures. We all posed on one side of the table, which prompted trouble-maker Diane from the next table to stand behind the photographer and make faces and gestures at all of us. She went so far as to flash her panties at Michael -- they were pink, and Michael does NOT like pink panties.

When the pictures were shown to us later, we are all looking good -- but there's this guy in the background at the next table who's looking right at the camera, adjusting his glasses, apparently as if to see what the heck is going on over there...

The laughter got me right into the spirit of things. Now, as you know I am not a brat (okay, SOME might argue that point) but I was displaying brat-like behavior at the suite parties after dinner. Rad was finally compelled to put me over his knee (just over the jeans to start, but much more is promised for later today. Dream from D.C. and Mike from Pennsylvania both hosted parties in their suites and we moved from one to the other.

For those who were in Mike's room at about quarter to 1 in the morning, I think that was about the best (worst?) fifteen minutes of NON-politically correct talk I've heard in a LONG time. So glad no one recorded us. Sorry I can't reveal it here -- I wouldn't do it justice, anyway. Let the fun continue.

It's cloudy this morning and it seems like perfect weather to go walking on the beach.

Thursday, June 4, 2009

So nice to be away

Just a quickie post, as we're getting ready to go hang out with people at a suite party. We arrived safely in Florida this afternoon (see Rad's blog for details on the duct-taped plane wing). I had a cougher/sigher/space hogger next to me, but other than that it was a very good flight AND I worked on my writing for over an hour. I'm putting the finishing touches on a short story...

Love that we are able to get away for a long weekend. Much needed. I plan to exude happiness and good will (and of course pain and pleasure) all weekend. No pouting or sudden attacks of shyness (it DOES happen). I am among friends; it feels good.

We just had dinner at Crabby Bill's and the food was great. So, more to come later. Now -- we play!