Thanksgiving was fabulous. As I posted on my other blog (Ms. Cassandra Park, The Corporal Consultant), I think it's my favorite holiday because usually the whole family is together and it doesn't really have the "pressure" that you feel from Christmas -- not to mention, let's face it, even at an advanced age you sometimes feel disappointment. Hard to let go of those inner-child expectations.
For me, I love watching my many nieces and nephews rip open their presents, but I feel pangs because I don't have my own kids. And then in lean years, as this one is, I simply can't buy them all gifts. I have 10 nieces and nephews and three "greats" already. The older ones are well into adulthood, however, so I don't have to worry about them as much. The younger ones -- I do what I can.
Thanksgiving is easier. It's just coming together to eat, hang out. Maybe watch some football. Maybe play a game after dinner (a big part of our family traditions). Yesterday, I let myself eat what I liked, in moderation, took a walk after dinner with my sister, and then allowed myself a little dessert. I have been doing good on my diet, now it's time to relax a little, food-wise (I don't need to lose any more weight) and just work on exercise, toning.
I know my mom was just kidding, but it didn't help to hear, "You're not part of the family anymore -- you're too skinny!" Ouch. I guess this is the price you pay when you try to get in shape. I've mentioned this before -- I was taunted and tortured my entire growing-up years for being fat.* Now I'm suddenly unacceptably thin? Nonsense.
However, my problem is that I myself have trouble accepting the status quo. In the spanking world, when I play, people see my naked butt, hips and thighs -- my most troublesome areas. Yes, it's "acceptable"; I am "just fine" the way I am -- but I want to see if I can get better than "just fine." On top of that, I also want to get stronger. I want to try rock climbing, martial arts, kick boxing -- something new.
All I can do is TRY. If I NEVER get rid of my cellulite no matter what, it's okay. I guess I figure I CAN. It's POSSIBLE. Today I had a healthy breakfast, started back (as planned) on my workouts. Goal: weight training three times a week, with walking or other cardio on other days. I still have to watch what I eat, because I can't work out if I'm sluggish.
*I think it's about time to leave this little painful part of my history behind. It's not who I am anymore. (perhaps more on this in an upcoming blog?)
Friday, November 27, 2009
Thursday, November 26, 2009
"I was born to do this" part 2
RD's spanking started very benignly. He sat on the edge of the bed, put me over his knee with my jeans still up, and began to spank me--hard, but it felt nice through my jeans. This was a brief tease of a warm-up. Soon he told me to stand up, lower my jeans and panties and get back over his knee. He started to spank harder, and now it hurt.
He ordered me into the corner. He kept telling me the whole time that I was really going to be taught a lesson. The same, vague not-sure-how-afraid-I-should-be feeling persisted, and I think this was mainly because he was being so calm, even a little “logical” -- I'd misbehaved, I needed punishment, he was going to deliver it.
RD led me from the corner. He had pulled a chair out and was now holding a brush, a round wooden bath brush. Shit. Things were about to get serious.
I dreaded the brush, but was not about to say “no” to anything. “Get back over my knee,” he said. He started to spank me briskly with the brush, all over my bottom. Damn! I kicked my feet a few times, and he responded by spanking my thighs. “Every time you kick, you're getting spanked there,” he said. “I want those legs straight – understand?”
“Yes,” I murmured.
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, sir!” I happen to like calling my tops “sir,” but in the heat of things, I sometimes forget how to speak properly. He seemed annoyed, and spanked me harder and faster. I sort of wanted him to get angry, to raise his voice. That tends to bring the scene from the physical into the emotional real quick for me. Sometimes the fear I feel makes it easier to process pain, too.
RD said he doesn't play while angry. I said it was okay to pretend that he was.
And he certainly felt angry when next he took off his belt. I got a painful taste of that, and then he moved on to a stiff leather strap. Very nasty. It was just a very solid impact and he had me crying out, yelping, quite a bit. I stayed down and took all he handed out. The thing actually felt like a paddle at times. During this part of the session, he did raise his voice a little, lecturing me about my irresponsibility, my inconsiderate behavior.
Everything he said was true, and I hated it. I've been trying for months to improve this particular habit. Still, I said I would work at it harder. I don't think he liked that "promise" -- but I don't know if I can change overnight.
“You know we are not finished here, Sandy,” he said. “I am going to make sure this lesson sinks in, and that you remember it.” I already would remember it. My ass was on fire from the strapping, and I was sobbing a little in points. “When you get back on the plane tonight, you are going to have a very uncomfortable time sitting, young lady.”
Then he sent me to the corner again, but this time he told me to kneel. (This was something my father used to use as punishment when I was a kid -- scary.)
When RD beckoned me back over, he was holding the cane. I had expected that. There were pillows piled on the bed for me to position myself over. He told me to keep my bottom up, and to stretch my arms out in front of me. I clutched the bedspread and buried my face in the pillow.
“You are going to take every bit of this caning, Sandy. You deserve it."
I did deserve it. And it was awful ... and wonderful. Not at the time, of course. At the time, it was just excruciating. I loved him pushing me, hurting me. I loved him telling me that my sobs were not going to get me out of it. He paid particular attention to my thighs, whipping the rattan down and leaving a series of red lines, some of which became welts. I had strokes all up and down. He knew where to aim to make it hurt. I'd guess there were around 200 strokes, all told.
I wanted to cry, to let loose with a real cry, but I could only sob a little. At last he stopped. "That's it, Sandy. We're done." He climbed onto the bed and suddenly he was holding me. I curled up into his arms and sobbed a little more, let my breathing gradually return to normal. Awesome. I felt ... cared for. I felt special.
What a trip. Hope I don't have to wait another whole year for round two...
He ordered me into the corner. He kept telling me the whole time that I was really going to be taught a lesson. The same, vague not-sure-how-afraid-I-should-be feeling persisted, and I think this was mainly because he was being so calm, even a little “logical” -- I'd misbehaved, I needed punishment, he was going to deliver it.
RD led me from the corner. He had pulled a chair out and was now holding a brush, a round wooden bath brush. Shit. Things were about to get serious.
I dreaded the brush, but was not about to say “no” to anything. “Get back over my knee,” he said. He started to spank me briskly with the brush, all over my bottom. Damn! I kicked my feet a few times, and he responded by spanking my thighs. “Every time you kick, you're getting spanked there,” he said. “I want those legs straight – understand?”
“Yes,” I murmured.
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, sir!” I happen to like calling my tops “sir,” but in the heat of things, I sometimes forget how to speak properly. He seemed annoyed, and spanked me harder and faster. I sort of wanted him to get angry, to raise his voice. That tends to bring the scene from the physical into the emotional real quick for me. Sometimes the fear I feel makes it easier to process pain, too.
RD said he doesn't play while angry. I said it was okay to pretend that he was.
And he certainly felt angry when next he took off his belt. I got a painful taste of that, and then he moved on to a stiff leather strap. Very nasty. It was just a very solid impact and he had me crying out, yelping, quite a bit. I stayed down and took all he handed out. The thing actually felt like a paddle at times. During this part of the session, he did raise his voice a little, lecturing me about my irresponsibility, my inconsiderate behavior.
Everything he said was true, and I hated it. I've been trying for months to improve this particular habit. Still, I said I would work at it harder. I don't think he liked that "promise" -- but I don't know if I can change overnight.
“You know we are not finished here, Sandy,” he said. “I am going to make sure this lesson sinks in, and that you remember it.” I already would remember it. My ass was on fire from the strapping, and I was sobbing a little in points. “When you get back on the plane tonight, you are going to have a very uncomfortable time sitting, young lady.”
Then he sent me to the corner again, but this time he told me to kneel. (This was something my father used to use as punishment when I was a kid -- scary.)
When RD beckoned me back over, he was holding the cane. I had expected that. There were pillows piled on the bed for me to position myself over. He told me to keep my bottom up, and to stretch my arms out in front of me. I clutched the bedspread and buried my face in the pillow.
“You are going to take every bit of this caning, Sandy. You deserve it."
I did deserve it. And it was awful ... and wonderful. Not at the time, of course. At the time, it was just excruciating. I loved him pushing me, hurting me. I loved him telling me that my sobs were not going to get me out of it. He paid particular attention to my thighs, whipping the rattan down and leaving a series of red lines, some of which became welts. I had strokes all up and down. He knew where to aim to make it hurt. I'd guess there were around 200 strokes, all told.
I wanted to cry, to let loose with a real cry, but I could only sob a little. At last he stopped. "That's it, Sandy. We're done." He climbed onto the bed and suddenly he was holding me. I curled up into his arms and sobbed a little more, let my breathing gradually return to normal. Awesome. I felt ... cared for. I felt special.
What a trip. Hope I don't have to wait another whole year for round two...
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
“I was born to do this”
I have been trying to find time to write a blog since getting back from California on Monday morning. Taking the red-eye Sunday night and then going right to work left me exhausted. I've had about five or six starts and stops on the writing, most of which ended with my nodding out.
The weekend in Southern California was beyond my expectations, and the highlight was finally getting to play with Real_Discipline (RD) after about a year of bantering back and forth. I didn't think we'd get to meet this soon, so I was happy to get the opportunity.
My curiosity had been piqued after Erica Scott played with him and shared her experiences on her blog. (I'll link to this later).
Since I've been toying with the idea of a “Corporal Consultant World Tour 2010,” I decided to do the first leg early, November 2009, in Los Angeles. My three-day weekend was filled with promoting my consulting business, seeing friends old and new, visiting a BDSM club, going to a spanking party on Sunday afternoon -- AND getting spanked by RD on Sunday morning.
During the day on Saturday, and Sunday morning before he got to the hotel, RD was sending me light-hearted but ominous text messages. "Too late for excuses now. Tomorrow you're going to experience Real Discipline" ... "You will be taken to places you've only fantasized about."
When I confessed to a little nervousness, he responded, "Just relax--I'll take the lead and we'll dance with true adult discipline ... this will be something special you and I will never forget."
Wow. And in one of his texts on Sunday morning, he said, “I was born to do this.“ I liked that. I've always found a little bit of cockiness appealing in a man, even more so in a top.
I'm nervous every time I play with a new partner, especially a hard player, as RD was reported to be. But real fear doesn't tend to kick in until we've actually started to play and I suddenly understand just what I've signed up for. And on Sunday morning, RD definitely took charge.
He was very calm, but firm. I had confessed to a real offense and had accepted that I was going to be spanked for that. RD said my "crime" was a major annoyance of his and he felt quite justified with punishing me.
To be continued...
The weekend in Southern California was beyond my expectations, and the highlight was finally getting to play with Real_Discipline (RD) after about a year of bantering back and forth. I didn't think we'd get to meet this soon, so I was happy to get the opportunity.
My curiosity had been piqued after Erica Scott played with him and shared her experiences on her blog. (I'll link to this later).
Since I've been toying with the idea of a “Corporal Consultant World Tour 2010,” I decided to do the first leg early, November 2009, in Los Angeles. My three-day weekend was filled with promoting my consulting business, seeing friends old and new, visiting a BDSM club, going to a spanking party on Sunday afternoon -- AND getting spanked by RD on Sunday morning.
During the day on Saturday, and Sunday morning before he got to the hotel, RD was sending me light-hearted but ominous text messages. "Too late for excuses now. Tomorrow you're going to experience Real Discipline" ... "You will be taken to places you've only fantasized about."
When I confessed to a little nervousness, he responded, "Just relax--I'll take the lead and we'll dance with true adult discipline ... this will be something special you and I will never forget."
Wow. And in one of his texts on Sunday morning, he said, “I was born to do this.“ I liked that. I've always found a little bit of cockiness appealing in a man, even more so in a top.
I'm nervous every time I play with a new partner, especially a hard player, as RD was reported to be. But real fear doesn't tend to kick in until we've actually started to play and I suddenly understand just what I've signed up for. And on Sunday morning, RD definitely took charge.
He was very calm, but firm. I had confessed to a real offense and had accepted that I was going to be spanked for that. RD said my "crime" was a major annoyance of his and he felt quite justified with punishing me.
To be continued...
Friday, November 20, 2009
Getting spanked coast to coast
This will just be a quickie, as I must get to bed ASAP. Tomorrow I'm heading to California (Burbank) for a little mini-vacation. I'll be staying with my Shadow Lane friend D., and hooking up with some other friends while I'm there. Also, I'm planning on doing a discipline scene with a guy I haven't met, but who knows and plays with Erica Scott. He and I have been talking for about a year, I guess, trying to figure out if we'd every have the chance to play.
I'm mostly trying to get some exposure for my business, The Corporal Consultant, but in the meantime I definitely plan on having fun. We're going to do some touristy stuff, maybe meet some friends for dinner, then head over to a BDSM club called "The Lair" on Saturday night. I hope to find some nice victims to top while I'm there. Oh, I MAY bottom, but I don't want to go overboard.
My scene with my new friend is set for late Sunday morning. In the afternoon, believe it or not, I was invited to a spanking party (at least I think I'm invited. A friend told me about it and it looks like I'll know others who will be there (Shadow Lane people and people who know people ... it's always good to know people who know people).
I don't have to fly back till late Sunday evening so this all should work out well.
Fun stuff MIGHT include a tour of Universal Studios. Other L.A. must-sees are welcome in the comment section.
I'm mostly trying to get some exposure for my business, The Corporal Consultant, but in the meantime I definitely plan on having fun. We're going to do some touristy stuff, maybe meet some friends for dinner, then head over to a BDSM club called "The Lair" on Saturday night. I hope to find some nice victims to top while I'm there. Oh, I MAY bottom, but I don't want to go overboard.
My scene with my new friend is set for late Sunday morning. In the afternoon, believe it or not, I was invited to a spanking party (at least I think I'm invited. A friend told me about it and it looks like I'll know others who will be there (Shadow Lane people and people who know people ... it's always good to know people who know people).
I don't have to fly back till late Sunday evening so this all should work out well.
Fun stuff MIGHT include a tour of Universal Studios. Other L.A. must-sees are welcome in the comment section.
Sunday, November 8, 2009
Over the knee, over the edge
OTK night was quite thrilling, starting off with a celebrity encounter at the munch.
We got to the Moonstruck Diner and there was almost no one there. Anxious that no one else would show up (my usual BS paranoia about no one liking me), we settled in nonetheless. It was us and two other regulars. I went to the ladies' room and there was a 30-, maybe 40-something woman holding her daughter up to the sink to wash her hands. I was waiting for a stall. She put the little girl down and the toddler proudly announced to me, "I went pee pee!" This seemed to be some sort of a big deal, so I smiled and said, "Oh, that's VERY GOOD!" Her mom said to her, "You forgot!--You went pee pee without the potty seat!" She was all ready to go announce this developmental milestone to the rest of her family. My stall opened up and I put them out of my mind for the moment.
Back out in the diner a man came walking by us, pausing momentarily at the restroom entrance to determine which one was the men's room. It was Gilbert Gottfried, the comedian! Oh wow. When he came out he went over to the lady and little girl I'd seen in the ladies room; to all appearances, his wife and daughter. They had a baby in a stroller, too.
For some reason, they were sitting at the other end of our table momentarily. We were all doing the New Yorker thing and pretending we didn't know he was a celebrity. The little girl started wandering. She came down to our end of the table and decided to sit down next to me. She started talking to us. Rad, ever the comedian, stood up and started doing a funny waiter bit, announcing crazy specials of the day. Gilbert Gottfried's wife was laughing. The little girl was amused momentarily by Rad, but then started moving from seat to seat, as children will do. They left pretty soon after that, and that was pretty much the highlight of the munch. Eventually, we had 10 people and some interesting conversations ... mainly about MP3 players and shareware. Oh, there was a brief side conversation about how well chewing gum would actually cover bad breath ... but I need not go into that here.
At Paddles, a few more people showed up and there ended up being a decent party in spite of a somewhat sparse crowd. Some of our buddies are in Florida this weekend at the Florida Moonshine party, so there was some reason for there being fewer people. Still, I felt some disappointment.
I saw this new guy, looking domly, all in black and ... mirror sunglasses? He either thought he looked cool or had some problem with light. But he was in good shape and looked appealing. We decided to play. He had a silly role play where I was his French maid, who was supposed to bake French apple tarts and have them ready when he got home. Instead I forgot to cook dinner, drank his champagne and ate all the apples, leaving a trail of apple cores to the bedroom, where he found me lying there masturbating. (As the role play developed, apparently I'd also not cleaned the house. I hate when maids in spanking fantasies do that!)
Well, he got into my head space and was just really pushing my submissive buttons. I was feeling that little edge of fear that I like, not knowing where he was going to go. Plus, he was strong and of course I liked that. We were in the back room and he says he needs to put me on display. He grabs my hair and leads me out to the stage area. This meant we were walking past the snack bar, where Rad and our other friends were sitting. As I went by I kind of shrugged to Rad and tried to wink at Marie to indicate it was all part of the game. It was strange to have that moment witnessed.
We went up on the stage and it was nothing that different; I'm over his knee and he's spanking me and lecturing me. Suddenly he was lifting me and turning my body. I was up in the air with NO idea where I was supposed to be ending up; I think I even said, "whoa, where am I going?" I was slightly giddy at the manhandling, though, and was going with the flow.
Unfortunate. Next thing I knew we were crashing. I landed and struck the back wall. It's not concrete but rather has a rough Styrofoam-based facade that looks like rocks. I scraped my back along the wall and my ankle got scraped on something else. I was pretty stunned.
At this noise, Eric from Paddles, Rad, several other friends as well as some strangers all rushed over to see if I was okay. That was nice to see. It felt good.
The dom I was playing with explained that he'd been trying to put his foot up on a chair and sling me over his raised knee, a position I actually love. But the chair had skidded out from under him and that's when we both went down.
He and I took a small break. He actually let me spank him to make up for what had happened. Then I agreed to continue our scene. In retrospect, I probably should have ended it, but, like I said, I was in this nice submissive head space and wanted to keep going. Nothing else bad happened, and his spanking was actually very nice. But it's a good lesson to remember, when I start going into that zone, that I STILL really do have my senses about me (for the most part) and I don't need to continue any play I feel unsafe or uncomfortable about.
We got to the Moonstruck Diner and there was almost no one there. Anxious that no one else would show up (my usual BS paranoia about no one liking me), we settled in nonetheless. It was us and two other regulars. I went to the ladies' room and there was a 30-, maybe 40-something woman holding her daughter up to the sink to wash her hands. I was waiting for a stall. She put the little girl down and the toddler proudly announced to me, "I went pee pee!" This seemed to be some sort of a big deal, so I smiled and said, "Oh, that's VERY GOOD!" Her mom said to her, "You forgot!--You went pee pee without the potty seat!" She was all ready to go announce this developmental milestone to the rest of her family. My stall opened up and I put them out of my mind for the moment.
Back out in the diner a man came walking by us, pausing momentarily at the restroom entrance to determine which one was the men's room. It was Gilbert Gottfried, the comedian! Oh wow. When he came out he went over to the lady and little girl I'd seen in the ladies room; to all appearances, his wife and daughter. They had a baby in a stroller, too.
For some reason, they were sitting at the other end of our table momentarily. We were all doing the New Yorker thing and pretending we didn't know he was a celebrity. The little girl started wandering. She came down to our end of the table and decided to sit down next to me. She started talking to us. Rad, ever the comedian, stood up and started doing a funny waiter bit, announcing crazy specials of the day. Gilbert Gottfried's wife was laughing. The little girl was amused momentarily by Rad, but then started moving from seat to seat, as children will do. They left pretty soon after that, and that was pretty much the highlight of the munch. Eventually, we had 10 people and some interesting conversations ... mainly about MP3 players and shareware. Oh, there was a brief side conversation about how well chewing gum would actually cover bad breath ... but I need not go into that here.
At Paddles, a few more people showed up and there ended up being a decent party in spite of a somewhat sparse crowd. Some of our buddies are in Florida this weekend at the Florida Moonshine party, so there was some reason for there being fewer people. Still, I felt some disappointment.
I saw this new guy, looking domly, all in black and ... mirror sunglasses? He either thought he looked cool or had some problem with light. But he was in good shape and looked appealing. We decided to play. He had a silly role play where I was his French maid, who was supposed to bake French apple tarts and have them ready when he got home. Instead I forgot to cook dinner, drank his champagne and ate all the apples, leaving a trail of apple cores to the bedroom, where he found me lying there masturbating. (As the role play developed, apparently I'd also not cleaned the house. I hate when maids in spanking fantasies do that!)
Well, he got into my head space and was just really pushing my submissive buttons. I was feeling that little edge of fear that I like, not knowing where he was going to go. Plus, he was strong and of course I liked that. We were in the back room and he says he needs to put me on display. He grabs my hair and leads me out to the stage area. This meant we were walking past the snack bar, where Rad and our other friends were sitting. As I went by I kind of shrugged to Rad and tried to wink at Marie to indicate it was all part of the game. It was strange to have that moment witnessed.
We went up on the stage and it was nothing that different; I'm over his knee and he's spanking me and lecturing me. Suddenly he was lifting me and turning my body. I was up in the air with NO idea where I was supposed to be ending up; I think I even said, "whoa, where am I going?" I was slightly giddy at the manhandling, though, and was going with the flow.
Unfortunate. Next thing I knew we were crashing. I landed and struck the back wall. It's not concrete but rather has a rough Styrofoam-based facade that looks like rocks. I scraped my back along the wall and my ankle got scraped on something else. I was pretty stunned.
At this noise, Eric from Paddles, Rad, several other friends as well as some strangers all rushed over to see if I was okay. That was nice to see. It felt good.
The dom I was playing with explained that he'd been trying to put his foot up on a chair and sling me over his raised knee, a position I actually love. But the chair had skidded out from under him and that's when we both went down.
He and I took a small break. He actually let me spank him to make up for what had happened. Then I agreed to continue our scene. In retrospect, I probably should have ended it, but, like I said, I was in this nice submissive head space and wanted to keep going. Nothing else bad happened, and his spanking was actually very nice. But it's a good lesson to remember, when I start going into that zone, that I STILL really do have my senses about me (for the most part) and I don't need to continue any play I feel unsafe or uncomfortable about.
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