Fantasy and memories that invoke needs…
Saturday, January 27th, 2007working on it. while I do, try out the Generators here
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Metaphore Monday
Monday, November 13th, 2006Sadie Spankings day was not just a bust it was tossed off. OK fine. I realize that I used an on line source for the date and depending on who you read the 9th or the 15th were it. Considering no body in spankdome hitched their wagon to the 9th hey, I figure I got the best possible date if there was anyone who gave a darn. Sadie Hawkins Day is a very sweet day in my memory. It was one of the most squeelingly exciting high school events I can even recall. Nope there were no spankings for me on my 1st Sadie Hawkins day, but I can tell you that on my fourth, when I confessed my first there was a spanking to remember. I’m very sad that Sadie Spankins day bit the dust. It had a huge potential both in shared memories and wished for possibilities. In my simple mind any way.
Here’s my little effort at Metaphore/ Simili Monday.
“Like Sands through the hour glass, so are the stripes on her ass!”
Her bare bottom was such a hard bubble to crack, yet he dedicated himself to the enterprise. He knew that if he showed her he’d be there, that eventually her tears would belong to him. For now his unrequited hunger, her secretive fears, conspired to make him fear that hot water had thinned the ice on which he’d prayed to scakete his success with her.
;) Patty
Sadie Spankin’s Day
Sunday, November 12th, 2006Did ya know that Monday Nov. 13 Sadie Spankins Day (Sadie Hawkins day to your purists)? Originally it was November 15 in the original Al Capps comic strip. Usually it’s been celebrated on a Saturday after Nov. 9, but since this year that was Memorial Day, here we are … on a Monday. 
Her request & her treat.
Originating from a cartoon that was originated in the 1930’s and persisted in newspapers for some 40 years. The Mayor of mythical Dogpatch, desperate to marry off his ugly daughter declared a race day, where every eligible bachelor in his town had to enter a race with all the unmarried women Any man caught by a woman in the race, was her prize forever.I never did find out if Sadie got her man eventually, or even if the Sadie Hawkins race ever happened more than once. I do know that one character ‘Daisy Mae’ did eventually *git* her intended Li’l Abner. The comic strip was well established long before I was born, and fell into lore by the time I was old enough to care. Sadie Hawkins dances still happened while I was in high school & University, and as far as I know may still happen here and there.Beverly Hillbilly’s spun off the *homespun* back woods humor and brought it to TV. Petticoat Junction took it further. All three of those originals were rife with humorous spankin’ references. Little do many Jessica Simpson fans know the Dogpatch, Beverley Hillbilly’s, Smokey and the Bandit and Dukes of Hazard roots that gave sprout to her short shorts flirty li’l vehicle from last year. Shadowlane put Keith Jones and Jennifer Brooks to work on a spanky take off a little over a decade ago. I think it was called Blue Denim, but I’m to lazy to hunt through my collection to make sure. It was one of their better efforts though even to this day. Funny how technology, beeps, whistles and more explicit ventures just really can’t top a just plain basic and successful theme.Bad girl needs tamin’ cain’t git no man to do it for her fer love nor money till she finally finds the opportunity and nabs him for herself; then, once he’s exactly where he wants to be, and there’s just no more room for bashful resistance, the marital door closes behind the two of the and he finally shows her saucy self just who wears the pants in the family.
Well gals, how about you nab yer fella on this Sadie Hawkins day and tell him just what you need. Wiggle yer womanly bottom and egg him on. Tell him just what you need. No snotty acting out, no deliberate rules breaking, no makin him mad, now, just plain talk.
“Hiya honey, I’ve been a bad girl and I sure could use a good old fashioned lickin. It’s Sadie Spankin’s Day didn’t you know?”
Metaphore or Simile … oops how about Similaphore?
Tuesday, November 7th, 2006Point taken Jeanne & thanks. Duh! I knew that & to think I took my cue from a goof ball chain mail. Needless to say my literary terminology’s rusty… actually I fluncked grammar & spelling too… *g*
How about playing with both?
Playing with either or both are actually exercises used in some creative writing workshops… mixing metaphors for fun and tweeking the meaning of the original for effect is called Helenism
[exerpt] Helen has a wonderful mind (in many ways!). One of its many talents is the spontaneous creation of Helenisms. Like Spoonerisms and Tom Swifties before them, Helenisms are their own aphorismic genre, with precise properties:
- The phrase must be built of two well-known aphorisms or phrases, and these should usually be related in structure or meaning.
- The phrase itself must be meaningful, and its meaning must be clear despite being an odd amalgam of its two constituent phrases.
here’s one…
“She went out on a limb with out a paddle, and to her chagrin, that was just like shooting her mouth off into the wide blue yonder.”
‘Going out on a limb’ and ‘being up a creek’ being two metaphors for taking risks that could get her in deep doo doo, mixed and then compared with another pair of metaphors but this time with different meanings. One, ’shooting her mouth off’ suggesting another risky behaviour mixed with the other, ‘off into the wide blue yonder,’ intimating freedom. A simile of two divergent pairs of metaphores if you will … the net effect communicating something many women who brat for spanking experience. Triple risky behavior does not a spanking make.
Ok, so how about Mixed Metaphore or Creative Simile Monday readers choice as long as we stick to the theme that’s chosen? I’m not sensing a lotta interest.
She looked at him with puppy eyes, knowing her ass had already signed his check and the chickens she’d counted on never did hatch. He slowly sipped the last of his tea It had not calmed his anger. “No, it had not calmed him at all,” she grimaced. The seeds of her misdeeds in this latest hour of his discontent did not bode well for her bottom. His jaw clenched rhytmically, chewing back his ire as though it were a cud of the toughest sinew.
“Please honey,” her nerves forced her to ask … “Which way are the tea leaves blowing for my bottom’s fate tonight?”
He growled his reply, “Rest assured my darling little brat, there’s an ill wind blowing and we will burn that bridge when we get your empty little britches over it. You won’t sit for a month of Sundays when I get through with you, and that blistered little bottom’s going to burn hot as hades just like that firey hot temper of yours…
How’s that? Come on you poem writing, amazingly funny wankers, spankers, brats, angels, kittys, tiggers, boars, bears, teddies and all…
Play with Mixing Metaphores Anyone? Metaphore Monday Maybe?
Sunday, November 5th, 2006[edit again this time at 9:07 PM CST on 11/06/06…]
Themes to play with could run the gammut from spanking, to erotic, to political, to silly, to science fiction, to shoes or enemeas for that matter…. So Metaphore Monday is born. Please play along…
Her lips were like the red red rose,
her hair the dark of night,
Her temper like the darkest storm,
That took her from her light.
His hand was like the hardest stone,
Her bottom soft as down.
And when she pushed him to take hold,
The seeds of pain were sown.
Her need was like a thing with claws,
It pulled her mask away.
To hide from it was worst to flip,
Her finger to her soul.
Her well spanked bottom like the weave
The darned her sock of self
Burning stitches moulding shape
Weaving her his *elf.*
I’m pretty sure you readers can take some odd, interesting and even amazing thoughts & make for an entertaining Metaphore MOnday exchange… I really do, even if this week we’re off to a slow
It started because I get a lot of joke mails from various friends, and the other day one came in with a whole list of metaphors used by high school kids in compositions submitted for grades. I just knew I was going to have to find a fun way to share the giggles, since as a writer I have been known to mix a metaphore or two or four…Here are a couple from the list written by the kids ..
- From the attic came an unearthly howl. The whole scene had an eerie, surreal quality, like when you’re on vacation in another city and Jeopardy comes on at 7:00 p.m. instead of 7:30.
- She grew on him like she was a colony of E. coli, and he was room-temperature Canadian beef.
- It was an American tradition, like fathers chasing kids around with power tools.
- The young fighter had a hungry look, the kind you get from not eating for a while.
- Her hair glistened in the rain like a nose hair after a sneeze.
OK, so wanna have some fun and create a few spankophores… Just for fun… See if you can convey the sensory experience with a little creative mixing? Dare ya….
- Her freshly spanked bottom burned like the Indian sunburn her brother gave her arm years ago
- The welts from her recent caning felt like a supple washboard made of hot firm earth worms to her tentative probing fingers when she finally dared to reach back and touch her punished bottom.
- Hot mutinous tears stung the corners of her eyes just like the cruel tips of the birch stung the outside curve of her bare bottom. Her stubborn resolve not to cry broken by the steady scalding cadence her lover imparted to the hastily gathered twigs. The proverbial last straw hung ripe in the surreal and painful implications of her current plight.
- Her pride finally conquered, she stopped her struggling and her body went limp across his thighs. As her once clenched tense bottom became like properly set cherry Jello, wobbling and rebounding under each sound application of his hand, he knew her attitude had become similarly annealed by the spanking she so richly deserved.
LOL almost as fun as limericks trying to come up with these…
[edited 11/6/06, 6:07 PM…. ]
Here are Jeff & Paul’s efforts:
He lurked like Jack the Ripper just outside the glare of a London street light
Comment by jeff — November 6, 2006 @ 5:18 am
At the instant he released her,she shot from her position on his lap and furiously rubbed her bright red bare bottom while her feet drummed the floor like an ancient Indian dance of war
Her feet fought for purchase on the hardwood floor like a cat sharpening its claws on a favored piece of furniture.He raised those feet from the floor and tossed her across his lap like a rodeo champion throwing and roping a calf.The branding,she knew,was soon to follow.
She sat,with her toes poking out from under her bare butt,like a puppy that has just peed on the carpet,unable to meet his eyes.
At the instant he released her,she shot from her position on his lap and furiously rubbed her bright red bare bottom while her feet drummed the floor like an ancient Indian dance of warHer feet fought for purchase on the hardwood floor like a cat sharpening its claws on a favored piece of furniture.He raised those feet from the floor and tossed her across his lap like a rodeo champion throwing and roping a calf.The branding,she knew,was soon to follow.She sat,with her toes poking out from under her bare butt,like a puppy that has just peed on the carpet,unable to meet his eyes.
Comment by jeff — November 6, 2006 @ 12:14 pm
He set fire to her butt as quickly as an arsonist to a bundle of petrol soaked newspaper.
She sat on her spanked butt as tenderly as a novice fakir on his first bed of nails.
As she set her butt on the ice pack it gave off steam like a old fashioned whistling kettle.
Not bad for past 10:00 PM on a busy day.
Love and warm hugs,
Paul.
Then after 24 hiurs, even though I know folks read and said great idea in e-mails, only Jeff & Paul joined in. But then there were the great idea mails… Drop it & move on, or presevere and see if people don’t catch on and even have fun. Paul & Jeff did and boy did they amaze me…
“the print left behind by that first tremendous whap of his hand, a what he’d been savoring the prospect of delivering for days, was everything he’d dreamed it would be. Her outrage at the prospect, very like the a cornered cat; her conquering, - delicious really, very like silken hot flan to be savored before being consumed. Her scant panties descended over the soft pliant flesh with a slick almost audible ‘whooip,’ just like a fly line with a bit strokes the ripples in the rippling lake. And then he spanked her. Hard. As hard as he could. He after all had been waiting for the right moment, and she, after all had behaved like the spoiled brat who more than deserved it. The print his hand left. It was a thing to behold. Temptation and hast had nearly robbed him of this experience. Patty’s white pottom blanched first, like green tomatoes drizzled with scalding water, and then the softest rose petal pink seemed to ooze into his finger tips, the mounds and moons of his palm mark, filling every crevice just like tiny rivers of chewing gum being extruded in a proscribed sequence by an extruder.
He spanked her again, this time harder, and while she bucked across his lap like a trapped puppy, trying to claw, find purchase with her claws & paws so she could get away; he found himself intranced by the blloming red flowers that were his hand marks on her milky white flesh. Like a savant with a singular focus he watched and marvelled at his creations. Two gorgeous hand print whicking the red reality of pain up to the flesh of her bottom, much like tomatoe juice spill might wick up through a rumpled brawney towel… It was going to be a long night for the couple. A mighty long night.
Play along would ya… pretty please….
Delurk Friday…
Thursday, November 2nd, 2006Man o Man am I scared. Bonnie sent out an e-mail earlier this week inviting spanking bloggers on her list to join in and invite lurkers to post. 1st off I’m amazed and humbled to be on the list. Me? Are you sure you’d dare want me here, were my 1st thoughts, then I let myself plunge. Me? In spankdom? Me? I know most of my lurkers after all. ALL of them are former friends and most are posters who once posted comments (many everyday, most posted every post) and who now only lurk. Some have even changed IP’s & gone to AOL & similar providers hoping to become anonymous. All leave their indelible footprints in my world none the less. But a few hate me, lurk to hurt and look at any growth I manage as worse than sin.
If I dared invite readers to delurk and post their frank thought here who would respond? I guess we’ll see. *g*
I got a severe spanking on Tuesday. Even if it was only a maintenance lickin, it was still possible for the 100 must be counted whaps with the crackerbarrel paddle to blister skin … They had been preceeded by uncounted 100’s of whaps delivered - a few hundred by the crackerbarrel paddle and the rest delivered by the bath brush (vermont country sore bath brush). The burn of the lickin and the why lingeres still.
Grumble snots. So much spanking karma.. I want, I need, I was welcome to…. I’ve given … I need back … PTh~~~~~
Who the heck cares huh? I got spanked & so did he. I wasn’t really in for a punishment, so when I was pulled out of the corner after two serious accountings both allowed to touch small things and then I was back OTK for round three, having to count the next 100 I wasn’t expecting to have my butt keel over and blister. Ewwww! It’s happened before, but not so soon in the festivities. LOLOL!
So, with my butt out of commission, I did this.
Can you beleive it? Look at the long most purple of stripes, see hints of the round dots from the strop I bought? WHAP! The full impact of the strap is beyond a gotcha! I like the edge marks made by the DD paddle strap too.
This is my very very very 1st spanking administered to anyone else… doncha love the whap marks? I got it but good, 1st honest, & as it should be, before I got to give this but ya’ll have to know, it’s my first ever honest to given spanking. I know without question that it hurt… In case you don’t know yet, and something I never knew before is that straps whap back and really burn the strapping wrist after they are applied to errant bottoms for discipline. My wrist stung almost as much as my bum did. LOL!
I’m impressed by the most purple & longish mark. It’s the 1st whap the double strap with holes got to make even though it wasn’t the hardest I was allowed to administer.
I fully undestand if you can’t, but I’ll be honored if you could … de lurk & say hi. I promise to try to answer.
Oh yeah, check out this new link… Chross‘ He’s got even more spanking links to some new folks I know you’ll love. Most won’t link to me, but ya’ll will love em anyway… as do I. *g*
me
Tuesday, October 24th, 2006
Me & one of my many pets. At one time just over a year ago I had 3 dogs and 4 cats sharing my home, & yes Blisterbrat von doggie was one of them though sadly she had a congeniatal liver shunt and I lost her at barely a year old. My home menagerie doesn’t count the horses, mule and sundry other pets my father in law graciously keeps for me.
Just so you know I’m real.
7 days & counting LOLOLOLOL!
Monday, October 23rd, 20067 days and counting
(sing to the tune of the wizard of oz song)
I’m off to get a spanking,
A wonderful spanking because,
I hope it is a hell of a spank
If ever a spanking there was…
If ever oh ever a spank there was,
The spanking I need is good because
Because, because, because, because, because …
Because of the wonderful things it does…
I’m off to get a spanking
A much needed spanking because…
LOL! Silly huh.
But it does reflect the fun of what is planned for the fairly near future. I’m spending Sunday through All Saints day away and on a spankvation. Spankvation – hmmmm maybe vaspanktion – LOL heck, I’m going on a short vacation during which I am gonna get spanked. Spankvation does it for me. And, in case you haven’t paid attention, I may actually get to find out what it’s like to give a spanking too. Nervous? Talk about nervous. More on that later. Gotta love Cheapticketsdotcom and the hotel flight deals…. 4 nights 5 star hotel and airfare in my budget. GRIN!
So…..
Life’s been ordinary these days. Last week went by surprisingly fast considering it was the week after a major mad dash. I managed to shake off my cold and not loose any time at work, and in spite of being exhausted, I managed to get started on new projects and even focus. Monday my CEO copied me on an e-mail that listed me as one of the three major strengths of our organization; not just my department or my function mind you, but me as an individual in particular. That was kind of cool. Tuesday I treated all my employees and several other particularly helpful folks to a thank you lunch. No one succeeds alone, and everyone deserves recognition and thanks. It was nice that everyone made it too. Thursday was spent pushing to finish up preparations for a fair for National Healthcare Quality & Infection Control week - making poster boards, gift wrapping & propaganda copying takes up serious time believe it or not. We decided to take a page from Oprah and offer “random” recognition of quality efforts and give out certificates and symbolic gifts to staff who’d been caught in the act of excellence. We posted some neat news about some laudable improvements we as a facility, have made and we manned a flu shot station outside the cafeteria catching and jabbing everyone we could. Man o man! It was exhausting. Today got a slow start. I had a dentist appointment, so I was strategically and legitimately late for work. Then just as I arrived, I got a meeting invitation that made my blood run cold. Panic set in. Last time I got that invitation it was not good. I needn’t have worried, though my thoughts are mixed right now as to whether I should feel encouraged and recognized, or worried that my work world has just spun out of control. My sphere of influence has been expanded and my responsibilities broadened. Something that generally represents confidence in abilities I know. The challenge I’ve been given is daunting though and I know there is likely to be a bit of a storm to weather as the transition ensues. I know my heart is in the right place accepting it. I can only pray that the folks whom I’ve been given charge of see that eventually. I’ve got a very happy and motivated team. We have fun together and we rally to get the job done. Here’s hoping the new members get caught up in that positive wave and flow with it.
And…
I had a very sweet visit to Theresa’s blog tonight. One of her posts tickled some very precious memories for me that I’d never have considered sharing here. But wonder really if I couldn’t borrow from them to create for you folks who read here. Years and years ago, when I was in high school, I worked a 4PM-8PM shift in the “secure” wing of an old folks home in the town where I lived. I had to have the job to make my share of the payments on my car & keep up the insurance, or I couldn’t have the car. What my father never knew was that I positively loved the job. What my mother never knew was that that job was why I changed majors in college. When I first selected my major for college applications I chose nursing. My mom, who was a laboratory supervisor told me “no, you don’t want to be a nurse, all nurses are idiots.” I gave in and started college as a physical education major. I put in several years as a phys-ed major, did good work, got good grades, even wrote a noteworthy graduating paper about thrill seeking athletes, then ultimately switched gears back into nursing. I coached competitive gymnastics for a year and realized my heart wasn’t there no matter where my body had been. My heart was with the ‘patients’ I’d been privileged to ‘nurse’ when I was a kid.
My job was to serve food, help feed, and then help bath and tuck in the residents who were not able to do that for themselves any more. So many live vividly in my memory, though I know all are now long gone into what’s next for all of us.
Victor, (Vic) a wheelchair bound farmer who crisscrossed the common room edge to edge, overlapping wheel line to overlapping wheel line, corner to corner. He knew the seasons by the color of the sky and made sure to teach me and make sure I hadn’t been an idiot hitching the tiller, plow, bailer or combine to his tractor. He was a crass, nasty old guy, but his fields were pristine and I enjoyed testing him and being tested by him.
Hattie, a tiny 4’11” school teacher who’d taught right through age 65 and enjoyed none of her retirement before Alzheimer’s claimed her. She loved every one and always stroked faces, mine included. I felt the lump first and told the nurses. It was cancer. I made it my special duty to bath her and help her to bed all the way until she was gone. The memory of her hand on my cheek even when she was in severe pain is still very special to me.
Archie and Winnie, a couple who’d left their “century” farm to their children. Where I grew up a century farm was on that had remained in the hands of its founding family since the beginnings of record keeping. The MacDonald’s were just one of many I knew of, but they were the only couple whose lives actually touched mine in a way I could sense. Every evening after supper, they’d sit together in the sun room in rockers side by side, hand in hand. Neither said a single audible word to the other. They were always my last on my duty list. Winnie loved her bath and always had a humbug (candy) before I tucked her in. She had a sweet smile and yet always you could just feel that she kept so much of her life to herself. Archie gave me insights into his wife’s secrets and I positively loved her sweet quiet discretion and especially the amazing comfort she shared without knowing it. Archie was a cantankerous tease, always cracking lewd jokes about barnacle bill the sailor. He taught me the whole song. But the thing that touched me most about him was his absolute devotion to Winnie and his surprising modesty in spite of his bawdy voice. I will always remember the extra Saturday 7 – 3 shift I picked up when he asked me to wash him up please. He’d had an accident “I’ve shit myself!” and stool was dried down his leg. I got lost in thought trying not to focus on what I was doing, and I scrubbed his leg too hard. The back of my hand stroked up too fast and I knocked his balls. “”Oh JEZZUZ KRIST!” he bellowed, and then he cracked up laughing. I was about to cry, mortified that I’d hurt him so intimately, but he would have none of it. “That’s what I get hanging more than half way down to my knees! Goddamnit!” He made me laugh even though he was an old man in a nursing home standing in a common bathroom with his bottom half bare. I was a kid cleaning shit off his legs. He showed me dignity and humor. I’ll never forget that gift and awakening. Never.
Amy was quite another story. Man o man did she ever test and teach me. She also had been a school teacher, but not at all as loving as Hattie. Amy was a knuckle wrapper. She was also the most persistent, consistent person I have ever yet known. My job was to get her into the whirlpool every Thursday evening. Once a week bath night – that was all she would allow, though when the once a week time came round, man o man…. Of course she had no memory of the prior week. I bribed ice cream, promised to read chapters of most of the best novels ever written, took cuffs to my face and just plain gave up and helped her to bed with no bath on a few occasions. Prince of Tides was the story we shared start to finish that just barely made it under the wire into her mind before Alzheimer’s took her away. I cried the last few times I bathed her when she no longer had it in her to question never mind fight her bath.
Then there’s Marnie who just talked and lamented, but never knew why. She’d rock calling out over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over again, “my bladder, my bladder, oh my bladder.” Then if you asked her why or what could you do for her she’d say, “What the hell do you care? If I’ve got piss trouble piss on you!” Then another day she’d repeat over and over again,” help me to the crapper; please help me to the crapper!” Again, when I tried to do that she didn’t really need or want exactly that. Sitting with her and letting her get past the desperate demands always let me in to some of the most wonderful stories about her life and her grandkids. Her pre-occupations with her bladder & bowel were just so not who she was or what she’d lived. Even so, knowing more I’m so sad to admit that it’s her monotone ‘my bladder, oh my bladder, my bladder, oh my bladder,” still rings in my mind when I think of her.
I wish I could share all of these wonderful people with you. I wish I could properly share their sweet human dignity with you as I share the special smiles they gave me. They really have made permanent impressions on me. Their passages and my privilege being allowed in has impacted others. To this day I love being able to make my patients feel fresh and cared for. It was all I could do when I was a kid.
And so….
I’m gonna get a spankin. Sigh, and mmmm. How on earth did I ever get to be such a pain slut? Nope, I don’t think I’ll go there right now. I know, and I hope the answer resonates, but it’s got to have its own space.
I may get to give a spanking soon. Now that’s a whole new realm. I find it both exciting and frightening. Can I? Should I? What if I apply my needy spankee fantasies to giving and go too far? What if I can’t do it right because I’m stuck in the getting mode? What if I fuck up generally… and then what if I just try and find it another neat step in my journey….
Yes the last few pics of my ass (and many before them) that I’ve posted are mine, so please stop speculating OK you rats who visit daily, say you still like me and keep kibitzing among each other about my truth & reality P~~~~~~~~~~ YES it’s my ass. OK! LOLOLOLOLOL Seriously!
Closing out the week
Sunday, October 15th, 2006I’ve slept most of today away. I tried to do that yesterday too, but the cold that’s been dogging me just under the surface for the last while chose yesterday to take hold. Fever blister and all. I have reason to be proud that my non-confrontational more collaborative leadership style actually paid off. We shone brightly under scrutiny and no one had to get their heads beaten in to make it happen. I felt very proud and somewhat vindicated. People just don’t need to be beaten to do the right thing, it’s far better to encourage and reinforce their instincts to go for it. Odd thing for a spanko to say huh? Think it through though. The best D/s and spanking relationships always put a premium on success. The strongest are just not about failures that need constant correction, instead they are about support and loving encouragement toward goals. I played both Domme and sub to my team this past week, coaxing them as a peer to produce and stay on track — working with them in the trenches, taking on what I could of their burden and helping them do what only they could do. In the end we pulled off a wonderful demonstration of our team’s amazing product. Pride well earned, and pride in the work of others who’ve trusted me to point and guide the way. That I’m just me makes this small success sweeter. In the minds of some I don’t deserve any success never mind a place in the world where my influence could possibly be helpful to anyone. I’m constantly appologizing for my flaws and mistakes, and constantly trying to do better next time…. I get to smile quietly and wrap my own arms around me this weekend. We did good. I did good. I gave my heart and soul, and it was acknowledged.
I’m really under the weather right now though. I’ve got a head ache that dug in Friday and won’t go away yet today. I’ve maxed out on Aleve and all I have is a very stiff neck, aching bones, total restlessness and a headache I can’t escape. I’ve got the cold sore from hell on my lip too. Damn how they hurt and make your whole face deep into your nostril hurt. At least I know the sweats I’m feeling have nothing to do with that sinister change of life.
Here comes a new week … here comes a new cycle … here comes - who knows….
Wrangling sensibilities…
Saturday, October 14th, 2006I must say that I am comfortably adapted to the recent changes that have found their way in to my reality. I feel a kind of comfort with HTex that is almost unprecedented. He wasn’t what I expected when I met him, but believe me that didn’t last long as a distractor. He liked my little comfort accomodations and he indulged with me in discussions that wandered way out beyond spanking. Right away I got the sense that I was respected as a whole intelligent person, and that my ideas were expected to be offered into the discussions.
The topic of a bottom Topping a Top came up. Nothing threatening, or even demanding, just a question. I must admit to giggling uncomfortably. What can I say, I’ve whapped two bare Top asses in my life and gotten some very inhibiting messages from both experiences. So, I’m spooked. I want to try to please, I think I might have tapped in to just how to do it…. Ultimately it’s got to be him telling me how to meet his needs. & then there’s me knowing what needs I’d need to have met on the recieving end too… I could use those…
I’m not really afraid that quiet intimacy isn’t going to interced and we will connect in just the right way to make sure we’re on the same page and working for the same goals.
I am the bottom. We met because that was what he was seeking. I’m also me and adventure somehow finds it’s way into the discussion. Could I spank my Top?
You know, for years I asked that, even perstered for that. It became a subject of argument, it became a subject of snickering, and I know many of you have read abput how it fell apart in deferential giggling ( read the story…Turn About)
Truth is, I have a strong, sweet friend. He’s spanked me, he’d gotten invested in my forbidden realm and desires, committed to helping me win what made real sense…
He want’s to try recieving… she’s intriqued to try.
Si I ask this again… Please anwser from your personal place…. “Is there a bit of a latent bottom living with the true tried Top?”
THis is a huge project….
Life changes and life
Sunday, October 8th, 2006The anniversary of my husband’s death looms very large for me right now, and for the first time in a long time I’m finding myself at peace. I feel I have found a real life place, a real life connection, and while the internet still plays a role in my life, reality has a new more important dimension. I’m not really willing to put too much pressure on real life by sharing anything but allusions to it for now. What I’ve shared about my truth before has been villified and dismised because I offered it all out of time.
OK, so I’m me, I’ve drawn wonderful people in and let them believe things that were out of time, I’m a monster for having needed to be one of them and a monster for having given them past messages from my husband that I represented as real time. I spoke (online) to some people as him… yep I did … but if they look into their hearts, they know that I told them exactly what they wanted/needed to hear and they acted based on their own hearts not on what *he* said. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for betraying their trust, much more sorry for betraying his. I was selfish, needy and I exploited him/his outlook for needy selfish gains on a few occasions. I never stacked a deck in my favor though… I never did.
I posted his poems, I posted the contents of his cards and written letters to me, I posted his outlook on life issues based on things we shared at length … I posted stories he gave me in grumpy sketchy outlines (there are hundreds more I’m afraid to share)
I’ve been a widow for 15 years as of Oct 14. Fred’s gone. In a few weeks it will be time to mark Christopher’s passing too. My baby took his own life on November 3. That anniversary is particularly lonely because I feel I should have seen it coming and been able to stop it. That’s not how life works though. The sweet window of second chances and try again to make it rights are so very rare, never mind getting them on time to really matter.
Please don’t hate me if I’m quiet out of lonliness and fear for a while OK. Being hated so much by so many makes asking for understanding frightening.
p
Hi y’all
Sunday, October 8th, 2006It’s a real busy stretch here with everything coming to a peak in the next few days. I’m taking a short breather from the marathon to get ready for the week to come by taking a few minutes for me before going to church and then off to work again. Stress that would have made me collapse just a few months ago is still under control. I’ve managed several set back this past week and each just got rolled into the flow. Today the end of the do list is in sight.
Life will be in the way when it comes to getting spanked again. With luck we will be able to spend time together during the few days before Halloween. Sigh. Oh well, I’ve been particularly good this past week anyway. I’ll have time to wrack up some crimes in the next few weeks.
I promise to try and make some time to answer comments and catch up on other blogger’s lives within the next few days.
love y’all
patty
It’s Tuesday … and my bum still hurts
Tuesday, October 3rd, 2006Man o man! Don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining. I must admit though that walking around - or for that matter sitting with a well spanked bottom has an interesting effect on one’s outlook. Calm doesn’t even approach describing it.
I’ve gotten so much done these past few days. I’ve been focused, energized and secure. I’ve tackled immediate priorities, plugged happily away at ongoing stuff and even knocked off some annoying detaily things that came across my desk that aren’t due yet, but that I usually set aside until they pile up and become huge and urgent. Next week looms large with a huge hurdle and normally I’d be tense and stressed - instead I’m looking forward to it.
Why? Is it possible that it’s just because I’ve been punished twice in a month for procrastinating, and that my bottom is still sore more than 72 hours after round two?
I’m catching a cold, the aches and fever started Sunday, carried over yesterday and the raw throat and scratchy ears set in this afternoon, not to mention I’m cycling in to “that” time of the month - these things usually contribute to a significant decline in my mood and productivity, so what’s up?
Well, honestly, I think that having been spanked and riding on the benefits of it (regardless of what they are) really is why, and the fact that it has the power to exert positive mood influences that supercede even illness and hormones is interesting.
My bum still hurts, especially my right sit zone. Man o Man, may I say that 10 almost full force swats with a heavy holey wood paddle after a long session otk does leave a lasting impression.
What goes into the outlook of a well spanked spanko wench?
- a secretive self satisfied smile prompted by any physical reminder her bottom has been spanked
- barely audible, involuntary pouty whines when she sits on her sore bottom
- awareness that beneath her slacks/skirt and panties there are marks no one can see or guess are there
- desire and commitment to keep to promises made
- excitement that improvements she’s making will be obvious and appreciated by others soon
This is another bounced off a morror to my phone camera image. It was taken Sunday morning about 12 hours after the spanking. There’s still quite a bit of red, and the blotchy deep burgundy spank freckles that look like pimples but are flat, smooth and take weeks to go away are evident, and incidentally, you can see the gusset seam from my panties (who’da thunk that sitting just long enough to check email, read the paper and have coffee could leave such a prominent groove?)
Growth?
Monday, October 2nd, 2006Growth
The musical burble from the phone startled her; even though she expected it; even though she’d just looked at the clock for confirmation. Every shift in the air, every loose thought, even the change in texture under her feet from carpet to tile had had intense startle effects on her nerves all day. Sensory overload was not exactly the right word to describe what she felt though it fit – overload was close certainly, but the overwhelming sensory noise that surrounded her was being internally generated. In fact her immediate reality was so quiet anyone sharing her space would have had reason to complain of sensory deprivation.
Her skin prickled and blood rush roared in her ears.
“Just a few more minutes,” she trembled, thinking about what the next several hours might be bringing with them as they tugged her along. She’d answered cues and then finally let herself trust very rusty instincts.
“I can’t!” alone and with only the memory of the sound of her phone, she suddenly rushed to the bathroom and fought nausea and fear. If only the mechanical flush of water through porcelain could as effectively cleanse away second thoughts and insecurities. It could be wrong, it could be right, it could be a mistake, it could be a wise choice … there was no knowing. All she had was instinct and respect, versus need and desire. 2, 3 and 4 were there, it was 1 that was in question. A perfect balance would be preferable, yet her instinct had become the thing she trusted least.
His knock was answered by a something she never expected … something tense and reserved shifted within her.
“Go with your heart.”
The voice propelling her toward the door was not her own.
“It’s OK?” she whispered to the memory that until that moment simply wouldn’t brighten the aggravatingly dimly lit Embassy Suites living room.
“It’s OK.”
Warmth and reassurance took over from the nervousness and anxiety that had ruled the last weeks. A sob threatened to heave from her chest but it was pre-empted by a shock that surged from her right butt cheek into her soul.
“OK,” she whispered. “Thank you.”
The tear trickled loose anyway. She wiped it away and greeted the man at the door.
Very little of the next hour registered with substance in her memory - basic bases were touched, some silly stuff was woven into the fabric of a friendship that had become easy almost immediately.
Before she knew it he was pulling down her jeans and panties.
“Oh my goodness this hurts too much!”
Tears threatened almost immediately. She would tell him later that his hand was very hard, for the moment though she felt shame that she couldn’t help but try to interfere with the punishment she deserved and agreed to. Stubborn won out for far too long. He’d punished with his hand and moved on to the paddle using ice to wet and cool down her flesh.
He laid into her bare bottom as he had before. Desperation made her struggle when intensity peaked, reason made him place her in the corner when her body churned too hard; yet knowledge that the message was far from impressed made the pattern repeat, and then her sobs heaved and she felt his heart gave in.
“Too soon, but that’s good this time,” she thought, stepping in to the corner when she sensed he was going to stop. She’d been punished for this before after all. She’d been punished and was focused and committed to focus on the issues on the table already. Never one to fail to own her crimes, she let herself embrace the pain and release.
She knew he would end with some swats with the school paddle This was a given since they’d gotten together. 4 was the limit until she’d been a brat and suggested it wasn’t enough. Even so 4 more over jeans had been his playful limit. This time there were five almost full force final strokes, followed by 5 mor just a bit more intense stroked because she’d earned it.
Hugs and reassurance followed. She cried. Hating herself was so lonely. Wishing she could give more to people and life made her ache. Right now she had only one person to honor.
“Will you let me thank you with a submissive’s gift?” she whispered when he pulled her down with him onto the pillows her bottom had perched across to be strapped.
He hugged her until he found words and she found strength.
“Yes,” he said.
“Can I get a towel in case I make a mess,” she asked.
“Yes,” he smiled and gave a hug that offered her reassurance. The resolve that resulted was gamine and bratty.
His cock was just barely taking on the tumescence she was accustomed to when it came to her man’s response to thrashing her bare ass. A kiss of his glans and just the stroke of her tongue around the corona of his arousal changed that.
What made her smile most was the physical surge that grew his cock and the gasping sigh he surrendered her with that first licking kiss. Several more times his cock grew with gasping surges until she couldn’t fit him into her throat. Kissing his balls, suckling the ridge at the base of him, licking and stroking his most sensitive spongy glans was sweet. When his cum jetted onto the right side of her pallet she internalized a sweet peaceful comfort, ‘mine’ her heart whispered silently, yet he had to stop he as she pumped and sucked him.
“Did I hurt you?” she worried?
He nodded. “It takes me a while to recover.”
Tears threatened again, only this time she held them off. She knew what recovery meant for every man and physical was only part of it. For so long her awareness had focused on what she remembered of her reality and while it was lovingly truthful, this was eye opening.
“Love me please?” she gave in and suckled him as he deserved. He came into her throat and gave her the beginnings of a journey that only reality and life could flesh out….
“This is right,” she smiled. The nervous anxiety that fueled uncertainty was put away by life. No matter what becomes, life and trust matters most..
Would nerves fuel next time? Hell yeah, probably… it’s what makes life neat isn’t it? lololol
Is this a true story? Some of my best friends have reason to wonder but only one person aside from me really knows.
love ya’ll
Anticipation
Sunday, October 1st, 2006Will it be serious or sensuous? Any thoughts about what this young thing is anticipating folks. I’d love a story from some of you….
What bad girls get…
Sunday, October 1st, 2006When they simply won’t behave…
arggh… but thankfully …
Tuesday, September 26th, 2006Just a quick note to say hi & thanks for the sweet and neat comments.
Glad y’all liked the new drawing. I’ll make a promise to get back to the drawing board with more regularity. My writing muse has been scarce mostly due to an overwhelming and all consuming work load. There’s a couple more weeks in front of me that will have to have my undivided attention on matters other than the web. If the ‘gods’ are with me and our team, things will go the way they should.
Hey, here’s a little side note & follow up to my post about my car. I must say I like the evolution that seems to be happening just because my outlook and approach has shifted. Last year when I had encountered a significant frustration my response would have been irate and the outcome would have been fatigue, more frustration and regrets. For the last 5 months I have found that simply expressing my displeasure but not my anger has resulted in very different outcomes. Hotel upgrades are one benefit I’ve already shared, but guess what else happened just this week?
I was so distressed about the prospect of having to deal with the service guys at the dealership where I bought my car that I actually called ahead and begged them to promise me that all the work was done and my car was ready and that if I came mid day I could get in and out. I made an appointment to get my car back. I kept it. Did they? NO! I went there at 10 AM and at 12:08 I was still in the service office. Not only was the safety inspection not done, but they had totally lost the check that the claims guy had cut the week before. I had to ask if the tune up and 10,000 mile check I asked for (even though the car has barely 6,000 mile on it - it’s been on the road 2 years). I was asured it was and shown the technicians’time logs for each element of work done. They’d just not noticed the inspection on the work order. Nobody billed it, nobody did it. & I’d watched the techs come in and log the work they were doing on multiple cars during the time I was there.
So, I very quietly told the manager that I was really tired of being held hostage EVERY time I brought my car in to them. I told him that I really couldn’t afford to have to sit there for two hiurs after having called ahead to assure all was ready & I told him that I was really VERY tired of the lack of service interest offered customers once any vehicle purchase was final. I asked for a contact so I could communicate with volkswagen about my perceptions of the quality of service offered here. Sell me a car, make me happy about buying it, then when you’ve trapped me with a warrantee that is only valid if I use the ONLY approved service agent and allow that service agent to be shoddy is simply not going to fly.
They gave me the contact info, but they also wrote off every penny of my bill that was not covered by insurance. That’s more than a $400.00 discount on the billed amont by the way. Will that change what I have to say about their service ethic? I’m sorry but no. I must say that I would far rather pay exactly what I owe and experience a seemless, hassle free service experince. They get 99 % for service recovery in that I’ll trust that taking a hit in excess of 400 buck isn’t something they’ll let slide and will try and improve on… but I still expect some assurance that that performance improvement opportunity actually bear more fruit than giving random discounts to hassled and shafted customers.
I must say though that I am appreciative of how being quiet, reasonable and matter of fact about my perceptions and at the same time trying to be supportive of the challenges service providers face has resulted in me being offered fair and above and beyond treatment off the cuff - without prompting or demand.
Does getting a freebie on the repairs help me when it comes to procrastination about dealing with these people? Maybe. It’s possible that I’ll remember the relief that I was spared more than $400 in charges … or it’s possible I’ll remember just how helpless it felt to still be there at 12:47 (2 hours and 47 minutes after I got there way over three hours after calling to verify the car was ready to go and actually making an appointment to settle up and get my car.) and find that after being promised at 12:08 that my car was being driven around front for me “right now” my car was held up in a car wash line for 40 more minutes and yet somehow NEVER got washed.
I left work at 9:50 after calling to assure all was ready & it was little more than an in and out process, I got back to work just before1PM. They had my car and all the significant and incidental work orders for 13 days.
Why do I procrastinate over seemingly simple things like car maintenance & service? Guess. My honest question is why does it have to be like this? It’s always been like this. ALWAYS. In Canada, In KY, in TX in OR … every where I’ve ever lived long enough to need car maintenance….
Boy do I need a spanking….& it’s coming. In your silent wishes for me to get that, would you take a second to ask the fates to remind me that I said that while I’m getting it please. I know I’m going to forget and beg for a lesser intervention when the reality *hits.*.
TY
Love
patty
Her gift
Sunday, September 24th, 2006Her gift is to please, even though she may tease, a blossoming flower, embracing his power.
Eeep 2…. I’m going to get it
Saturday, September 23rd, 2006Hey.
I’m hoping (but not with too much investment) that my connection troubles are behind me. Is it really possible that just replacing a defective digital DVR unit could solve my cable issues? The DVR (TIVO type) unit began ticking and clicking on Wednesday morning literally just a few hours after I posted about my connection woes. I let it go all day until I got home and found it had gone from clicking to a whine. Unplugging and letting it cool pretty much killed the machine. It came back on but then went into an endless ticking, clicking whirl of numbers and codes. I shut it down and found I had the next three hours online. I was working on work, so I didn’t get in much surfing or checking. Next morning it was gone and it stayed gone until I went out today and turned in the defective DVR. This afternoon, since I hooked the replacement DVR unit up, my RR is back up. Is it fiddling with the black cable wires and how I hold my tongue when I do that, or could it be the digital cable box was the culprit, or is this just another momentary RR reprieve that in a day or two will again degenerate into no more service for extended periods AFTER the techs have been out here and found everything fine yet again????
I’m unspanked this week. Next week will be a different story.
Next week I’m in for a serious reconning though. I’m having a little trouble with how it snuck up on me in the middle a a very sincere personal promise to fix the issues addressed last time I was spanked. I was truly dedicated to my commitment to be proactive and sincere. I really wanted to go for it and feel the change it was going to make. And then not even a day after my ass was blistered for procrastination … not even a day after peacefully and whole heartedly making a deeply personal pledge to turning the corner, the monster of my *former* bad habits loomed large threatening my ass. My car would not start Monday morning hardly a day after arriving home after my last accounting. I called friends and subordinates and ultimately had to call a cab (in this town cabs are pretty much none existent). I was late for my 8 AM and the day went down hill from there. I forgot I needed to get home until 5 PM and just barely caught a friend who was really not in a position where driving me home was convenient … but she said yes and I got home. Even getting by up at 6 and calling the tow service at 7 didn’t help me get to work on time Tuesday. The dealership held me up until close to 9:30 verifying things….
Yeah… the issue with my car is two fold…. One I’ve gotten a fine for not renewing the inspection sticker (due last Feb.) and I have not taken it in to be checked since it was vandalized in June. Hey, it was due in July for it’s 5,000 mile check up & I was going to do everything all at once. OK so it’s Sept. I really hate dealing with the service guys at any car place. Apparently the damage done in June, while not making the car un drivable, was serious enough that there’s been a continuous drain on the battery and the heavy rain just before I went to Houston caused enough damage that the surge of starting my car at the airport Sunday night fried my alternator and generator. I got home, but was going no where after that.
I was pretty pissed finding this out. The car was driving, it was fine, there wasn’t even a hiccup in drivability from the time my fog lights and grill got ripped off. It had its oil changes, and brake checks at Christmas. The damned car is hardly two years on the road and still has less than 6,000 miles on it. My Jetta went 4 years plus before its battery died. WTF!!!!!????? I had to bicker with the insurance company, but they agree that I couldn’t have known the damage was as extensive as it ended up being and they can’t fault me for deciding I didn’t need to file a claim to replace the ripped off grill and fog lights. That was two days of aggravation I don’t want repeated. Then their claims guy only issued a check for the lights… more than 700 bucks!!!! Nobody returned calls from the dealer about the grill. Not until I called on Tuesday this week. Final outcome??? LOL. Well I’m still driving a rental though I am promised that by Monday I will have my bettle back. Thing is, I will have to make an appointment with the rental co. to return the rental, settle up whatever isn’t covered with them, then get a ride to the dealership that has held my car hostage, and then settle up with them for the routine stuff (sticker check, oil change tune up etc) Probability is I will loose two hours from my work day, if not more on Monday. If it’s less great, but it never is less with these guys, which is why I put the whole thing off to begin with.
My teeth are already grinding during the day & in my sleep as I anticipate dealing with the service guys and getting my car freed from their grips. Even so, I know it simply would not be this bad if I’d just done what I was supposed to do. I wouldn’t have a $250.00 ticket for not having a safety sticker and I wouldn’t have my car held hostage for 8 days waiting for phone calls to be returned.
I’ve shared this whole mess with my friend. Are you surprised then to hear that I’m going back OTK for a repeat application of consequences for procrastination next weekend? While at first I was inclined to hide it all and rest on the promises I’d made to myself and him that my past issues were under control, things were so not in control for me yet, and just the temptation to hide it so I might look better to someone newish made me feel like I was wrong.
I’ve been trying so hard to be about owning my weaknesses and mistakes. I am really going there…..
EEP!
Monday, September 18th, 2006I’m so sorry I’ve been almost offline for a while. I’ve got and created connectivity issues. Roadrunner has always been on the iffy side. First it was off more than on, then after testing the wires & signal and repeatedly telling me they were fine and doing nothing one guy noticed and changed out the 7 year old primestar splitter to a Timewarner/RR splitter. That fixed everything for about three months now I’m back to a mostly useless Roadrunner connection that nobody can verify, validate or fix. So, when I bought this new Palm Treo cell phone and found out it could be a modem and the cost of unlimited access was the same as Roadrunner per month I decided to try it. Well the software for the Sprint PCS connection manager nuked AOL when I installed it. I no longer have software that can operate a dial up connection. My cable broadband is mostly useless except for sporadic unpredictable streteches of minutes or maybe an hour here or there if I’m lucky, and the phone as a modem boots me if I get a single phone call, text message or page, then I have to restart the computer, three times my phone has had to call home and reconfigure itself. I either get a different phone # so work & friends can reach me or live with the fact that phone as a modem is not a cost or time effective option for me, that plus the fact that wireless phone service is just not really a “broadband” connection. It’s just barely faster than dial up when it’s at it’s best and is even slower for some things.
Anybody with advice? How do I repair my nuked dial up service software? What are the possibilities for Roadrunner? Do I make the cable company run a completely seperate line just for Roadrunner? Does that even work? Every check on the cable signal indicates the lines I have work fine. Yeah right … so why is my cable working just fine but my Roadrunner off most of the time? Strange thing too … at first it seemed like the signal connected well during the day, but crumped at night … I figured neighborhood use was an issue. Now, the signal is dead all day and only manages it’s periodic connections after about 7 or 8 PM. Right now as I write this it’s been on and off several times, and so far this last on perod has lasted about 20 minutes. Any thoughts, advice, ideas?
Nothing’s particularly interesting in my life right now anyway and I’ve got so much going on at work I’ve had very little creative quiet time. This of coarse explains why I haven’t been able to make fixing my connectivity issues a priority. LOLOLOL I’ve lost my connection three more times since telling you I’d been on for 20 minutes. The big question is, will this post actually post or get lost in multiply disconnected since initiated cyberspace? We’ll soon see.
p.s. I really need a spanking. Seriously.