The Munch and More

The day of the munch, i had to finish shaving, and thank goodness i was able to do that without any problem.  Full disclosure – i used an electric razor.  No, it doesn’t shave as closely, but i also don’t cut myself.  I did read Nora Jean’s post about shaving like a stripper, and seriously considered trying it, but it would have meant an extra trip to the store and… yeah, i just didn’t.  The little hand held electric one did a good enough job.

I debated what to wear – internally, not in any discussion about it.  Sir usually doesn’t have much interest in what i wear.  i contemplated wearing a dress, but the only one i have that’s cool enough for this weather is a little black dress and i thought it might be too dressy.  So i wore my usual black capri leggings and a tunic top that i’d just bought and hadn’t worn before.  I was feeling pretty festive.

We get to the restaurant a bit early, and tell the hostess we’re with a group – she quickly ushers us into a private room.  Only a couple of older women are there – um, older like a couple of years younger than me, probably.  They greet us, and direct us to sign in with our Fet names.  I put olivia and remember later that my fet name includes numbers.  Have to ask Sir if he remembers what they are – and go back to add “60.”

We select seats in the middle of one side of the table.  As others arrive, they sit across from us and at the ends of the table until all of those seats are full.  i feel like i am sitting on a little island of newness.

i suddenly remember how socially awkward i can be – the introvert in me is whispering, “Go home.  Just go home now.”

Eventually, everyone arrives, and some people sit next to us.  No one introduces themselves, it seems that they all know each other.  Sir and i introduce ourselves a couple of times and he shares some vanilla information about us.  One couple talks about the cruise they took, and the huge walk-in closet they’ve converted to a play room.  The Dom in that couple and Sir chat a bit.

i realize the submissives are wearing skirts or dresses.  Dommes or switches in pants.  Ooops.

One young person is a furry – not in a full furry outfit, just ears and a tail.  She giggles with delight and crawls under the table from time to time.  Our server is unfazed by this.  The group members mostly react with fond acceptance,  although i think i catch some tight-lipped tolerance.

Several people have their phones out and are checking FaceBook.  I get mine out too – a gift for the socially inept.  Someone comments, “Lively bunch tonight!” in that hearty tone that suggests this comment will somehow shift the energy.  That doesn’t happen.

They are nice people, and i assure myself it’s not my fault that the evening isn’t more dynamic.   It’s essentially dinner with a bunch a people i don’t know, what did i expect?  i think there are all kinds of undertones of all kinds of things in the room that i can only skim the surface of.  Webs of connection that criss-cross around me in ways that i can’t possibly understand.  i wonder if someday i’ll recognize the subtle messages being sent and received.

The latest arrival sits next to me, so i start a conversation with him.   He’s relatively new to the area, and i totally can’t tell if he knows anyone else or not.  Soon, he and another person are sharing stories about driving for Uber or Lyft, which is alternately amusing and horrifying.

People chat about kinky events, events they’ve been to, events they’d like to go to, play parties in the area.  i’m taking mental notes.

We order food.  We eat.  The fish is not bad.  We do not order dessert.  They have a 50-50 drawing – neither Sir nor i win.  And then it’s time to go.

Home – home where we retreat to our bedroom to act out our own kinky fantasies.  Yes, that includes the mean little mini-paddle.   Nicely warmed up – hand then belt – i am ready for the paddle, or as ready as i can be.

i’m expecting the heaviness of a paddle – the thud. And it’s there, for sure, but there’s a bit of sting too.  i don’t really understand how that works – how can it thud and then sting?  But i don’t have much chance to contemplate, because i’m busy trying to not make too much noise and noticing the feeling as it lands.

Then, just as it is getting to be a whole lot, Sir has me count – just 10 more he says, but count.  When he says “count” he doesn’t want to hear “One, two,” he means, “One, Thank you Sir, Two thank you, Sir,” and so on.  i do like that, even if that last ones are the worst.   i love the way he is upping the ante slowly, adding instruments and tools, but in a strategic way, starting with the things he knows i love

When we were finished with my spanking, we satisfied other needs, and that was lovely.

As for the munch, we survived.  We got our feet wet.  It wasn’t bad.  Sorry it wasn’t more exciting, but it is what it is.  Maybe we’ll go back, maybe we’ll try a different one, whatever, it will all be ok.

And Sir is watching for an opportunity to play when no one else is home.  i’m  not sure what he has in mind, but i imagine it will involve lots of noise – from me.  i’m excited, and just a bit nervous.  We’ll see…

FFF – 7-6-18

Happy FFF to you!  Yes, I broke the “60” barrier – I’ve made it into the 159’s!!  New range of weights is 159.6-161.2.  We’ve been doing this – FFF – for 23 weeks and I don’t remember for sure where I was when I started out, but I’ve lost about 12 pounds.   Averaging about 2 pounds/month, which is not a bad rate.

In exercise/step news, I gave up on finding my old Fitbit and bought a new one, so of course I found the old one the next day.  The new one does a more thorough break-down of sleep cycles, which I like.  After all, if I know I only got 30 minutes of deep sleep, I’m not surprised that I”m sleepy, right?  So I can only report on 5 days, and have really lost ground in this area.  22,000 steps in those 5 days, about 4,500/day.   I need to do better this week.

I’m thinking about doing a personalized physical fitness program with a coach.  We’ve joined the YMCA, and they offer a 6 week program free.  I’ve never done anything like this before, which in itself is probably a good reason to do it.  I’m going up to get the application today – we’ll see if i can follow through on it.

Organizing my house – really, everything is in decent shape except my office.  Oh, and the garage, but that’s going to take a lot more than me to manage.

In other news, Sir went shopping for shorts at one of those big Hunting, Fishing, Everything Outdoors stores.  He texted me this picture:

IMG_1377 2

I said, “Yikes!” because what else can one say when looking at a serious frigging paddle, knowing that it could be used on one’s delicate butt?   Ok, it’s a mini-paddle, but still.

He replied, “LOL Yikes is right, I bought one, it’s Perfect !” which may not have been exactly what i wanted to hear.  i would have been fine with a less enthusiastic response.  🙂  I am pretty sure that i’m going to find out just how yikes-y it is tonight.

Because – yes – tonight is date night, and we’re going to a munch!! i’m pretty excited, and a bit nervous, but not too much.  The restaurant is an inexpensive chain restaurant, which doesn’t thrill me, but that’s ok.  You may not know this about me, but i am a bit of a food snob.  I prefer non-chain restaurants that offer eclectic combinations of food in original recipes made with fresh, local ingredients.  Ok, i can’t always get that, but local is better than chain and… anyhow, yes, i have a whole hierarchy of what’s good.  When we go out to eat, i usually pick the restaurant.

Sir, on the other hand, is a McDonald’s and Waffle House kind of man.  Seriously.   Fortunately, he’ll eat a burger just about anywhere, and most places have some kind of a burger.  ‘That won’t be a concern tonight.  I’ll be the one scanning the menu for that one thing that isn’t fried or over 1,000 calories and 90% carbs.  In fairness, i’ve already found it – they have a grilled fish that looks decent.  So that’s not a problem.  {Whew, i know you were worried about it for me too…}

Anyhow, all of that is to say that i should have plenty to talk about when i come back.  Stay tuned…

Don’t laugh…

Y’all remember when i was fantasizing about some kind of Dom mentor who would help me focus on meeting my goals?  Well, I was looking at OPBs yesterday (Other People’s Blogs) and saw a mention of a Spanking Life Coach.  I can’t find the link to that particular blog again, or i would give them credit, but i did find the Spanking Life Coach.

She goes by Harriet Marwood, which is apparently the name of a fictional governess in a Victorian novel.  But Ms. Marwood, spanking life coach, appears to be for real.   Her description of what she does could have been written with me in mind.

The profile of the average Spanking Lover is that of a highly successful, productive, assertive, results oriented individual. So successful, in fact, that he or she often is too busy to focus on his or her own PERSONAL GOALS.

 Does this sound like you? Are you woefully behind with things like:

·        starting that diet,

·        getting back in shape,

·        sorting out the mess in your apartment

·        organizing your office so that you begin delegating more or so that you don’t waste so much of your own time with nonsense

·        writing that book you know you have in you

·        or… allocating time to begin whatever that particular project is for you

 

Some practical lifestyle improvements are best turned over to an objective third party who can dispassionately look at your circumstances, assess your time, abilities, and needs and prioritize for you – creating a program in which the practical incremental steps are mapped out in small do-able chunks that painlessly add up to results.. IF, you follow the plan.

 

And SOMETIMES, you need to know that if you rationalize, justify delays or procrastinate, thereby NOT following the prescribed plan, there will be CONSEQUENCES. Consequences that are left to the prevue of that objective third party, and therefore will be administered faithfully and appropriately.

By now, you’ve surely realized what these consequences are: a strict, stern, sound spanking.

Of course, it looks like i’m not in need of those services at this point (yay!)  If i can get soundly spanked at home, there’s no need to look elsewhere.  And i don’t live in NY, so i couldn’t actually see her anyhow.  Plus, i wanted a male life coach cause i’m just that hetero.  But it sort of delights me to see that Ms. Marwood exists and is offering this valuable service – and to see that apparently, other people think it’s a good idea too.

Btw, this is not the type of life coach i’m going to be.  Just for the record.  But you already knew that, right?

 

 

Things I forgot…

I forgot how much i love this song:

In case you can’t see it, or it won’t play, it’s Bob Marley doing Three Little Birds.  “Don’t worry, ’bout a thing, cause every little thing, gonna be alright…”

I forgot how much more fun it is to do dishes and other mundane chores when listening to reggae.  And –

I forgot how much better i sleep if i give myself a little orgasm before I go to sleep.  I mean, I have my Magic Wand next to my bed for a reason.  But too often, even when i’ve kind of revved myself up a bit before I lie down, i still fall asleep about as quick as my head hits the pillow.  Y’all, even using the wand begins to feel like a chore.  Silly, because –

I forgot how damn easy it is to have an orgasm.  I mean, a quick fantasy –

“But it is time,” he says.  Firmly.  Gently, but firmly.  “Go ahead and pull up your skirt and pull down your panties.”

i don’t want to do this, i don’t.  And yet the thought of doing it makes me shiver with anticipation, and i know that if i touched myself, i would be wet.  So i do it, i pull my skirt up so my ass is exposed and tuck it into the waistband before he even tells me to.

i hook my thumbs in my panties and pull them down to my knees, widening my stance so the panties stop there.  He doesn’t need to tell me to do that, i know what he wants me to do.

i’m facing the corner already, i can feel him behind me.  “Step back,” he says, “two small steps back.”

i step cautiously, not sure if i’m going to bump into him, but he steps back too.  “Now,” he says, “both hands against the wall.   That’s it.  No, bend your arms, I want you leaning forward.  Push your ass out more.  That’s it.  Offer me your ass.”

It’s just a bit awkward, and definitely humiliating.

“Get comfortable,” he says, which makes me roll my eyes.  “Once we get started, I’ll want you to hold your position.  I don’t want you wiggling around.”

“Yes, Sir,” i say, and i do shift my weight some to make sure i’ll be able to maintain the stance.

“Ready?” he asks.

“Yes, Sir,” i say, making sure my tone is pleasant and cooperative.  i don’t like the consequences when i forget to do that.

“We’ll start with the ruler,” he says and there is no time for breath before it lands, hitting both cheeks hard.   The second  blow is lower, the third lands above the first one.  i’m gasping already, the stinging burn driving away all thought, filling my world.

***********

In the meantime, the lovely wand pressed to just the right spots, one hand on a nipple, and that’s all I need – that scenario – and Whoosh!!   A lovely little orgasm that leaves me more relaxed than i’ve been in days.

Thank you, universe.  I’ll try not to forget!

 

 

 

Fantasy Abounds

He sent me a list of his toys.

He = OG.  Toys = belts and floggers and paddles and crops.  A cane – not rattan but fiberglass.  All the expected props – collars and cuffs, ball gags and butt plugs, oh, my.

He likes the same (kinky) books I like.  Not that he agreed with books I said i liked.  No,  he told me – volunteered – that he likes Cherise Sinclair.  He likes her Shadowland series.  i love those books.

You know what that means, right?  It means he likes at least some of the same Fantasy elements i like.

i think it’s possible that this might really happen.

i have some dilemmas to work out.  Fuck.  Nothing’s easy.

But still.  I think OG might be an actual person who knows about being dominant.  Wow.  This could really happen.

I’ve been fretting a bit (because i’m a natural worrier) about how/where we could do this.  He lives about 3 hours away from me, so we can’t do coffee and see where it goes.  He mentioned maybe visiting Where-i-Live for a weekend, but even then – hotel room?  What if we get too loud?  What if he’s actually a serial killer – or you know, a terrible person who will actually harm me?

And then it occurs to me – we should go to an event and meet up there!  There’s a town that’s a couple of hours away from me that has a very active scene, and that place is only a couple of hours away for him too – how cool is that???  I haven’t mentioned this to him, and guess I will wait a bit before i do, but I think it’s a real solution.

So yesterday, i was driving along thinking about what it might be like with OG and i got so turned on, i almost had to pull over and, you know, take care of myself.  Maybe i’m not too old for this after all!

 

 

Frigging Amazing

It is frigging amazing to me how much spanking stories turn me on.  Just reading this and getting wet, having some shudders of pleasure, JUST from reading it.

Hot Bottom Stories

I know i’ve shared it before – the link to those stories – but they are the best, in my mind.  They hit the right note of everything.

I mean.  This:

“Sol tapped her upper thighs lightly with the cane. “Spread your legs, honey” he told her. Daphne spread her thighs slightly. Sol gave her a light stroke across her upper thighs. “Wider”

“Good girl”

Sol thought Daphne looked beautiful like this, her legs open, her pussy exposed, her bottom presented for punishment.

He lightly brought the cane lightly across Daphne’s bottom, measuring his stroke. Then he raised the cane and brought it whistling down across her upraised buttocks. The cane left a dark red welt over her already reddened cheeks. She took the first few strokes in silence. “Sol was not going make her cry like a little girl being spanked by her daddy”, she told herself. Sol gave every third or forth stroke across the tops of Daphne’s thighs and it hurt so much. She was sorry that she had been a naughty girl and even sorrier that she was getting a spanking. Soon her resolution to keep silent was forgotten and she was crying, the pillow muffling her sobs.”

I remember being a bit shocked when someone told me that spanking was a fetish for me, but omigoodness, yes, it is.

Off to do a little one-handed reading…