Bottoms Up!

As a small girl growing up in America under the parentage of the baby-boomer generation, my young life, like many of those in a similar situation, was filled to the brim with structured activity. Music lessons, tennis lessons, art classes, organized craft-making, swimming lessons, dance classes, you name it...

Of particular interest to my mother, due to her own experiences, were my dance classes.

I remember her taking specific care with all of my dance activities -- the right shoes, the proper leotards and tights, the right make-up, showing my new dance steps off to family and friends, coming to every recital with a video camera, etc... One of the dance-wear stores we visited once or twice (since it was a bit of a drive away) when I really needed something unique, had a peculiar and yet ever-so-fitting name which always made me inescapably uncomfortable...

"Bottoms Up!"

Just like that, with the exclamation point and everything...

As I wasn't a hard drinker as a kid -- or rather, didn't have the slightest inkling of anything to do with drinking ;) -- the phrase "bottoms up" didn't mean much to me other than it's literal translation.

When my mother first told me where we were going, I thought I hadn't heard her correctly, "We're going where?"

My brain filled with vivid images of what this dance-wear store must carry in product-line, to have such a suggestive name...

Suddenly I was quite sure that I really didn't want to go, and in fact could be found hesitating to enter once we'd gotten out of the car and traversed the parking lot.

But as my mother shunted me over the thresh-hold, I was surprised and relieved to see that it was just like any other dance store I'd ever seen -- leg warmers, dance skirts, leotards, dance bags, ballet shoes, nothing at all that would have suggested something to do with the literal meaning of the phrase, "bottoms up." (To my great and utter relief...)

We proceeded to shop quite happily for quite a while -- I left that store with a good haul of new stylish dance-wear, and, a new-found fascination for the multi-purpose phrase, "Bottoms Up!"

Luck of the Irish :D

Well, I guess I'm not technically Irish... but apparently around this time of year, there's enough luck to go around, because I was lucky enough to have a wonderful time at my first spanking party! (AKA, to find myself over the knee of a very considerate and personable spanker :D)


As the party upheld a St. Patrick's Day theme, naturally, I wore green (wanting to be spanked, not pinched...) And while I wasn't brave
enough to don something as straightforward
and demanding as this (true as it may be):



I did want to be prepared just in case my jeans happened to come down (which they did) and leave me slightly more exposed, so I found these:


At this rate, I'm going to end up with a pair of panties for every holiday!!

Happy St. Patrick's Day, everyone, and I hope you find what you're looking for at the end of the rainbow :D

Party O'Clock!

Today, I will be attending my first "spanking party!"

(Illustration by Brian Tarsis)

I haven't the slightest idea, really, what to expect. Will it simply be a bunch of spankos hanging out together? Or will it be more like a bdsm party where everybody is spanking everywhere? Perhaps it will be somewhere in the middle?

Will I get spanked?

What level of waist-down nudity is acceptable/expected at these kinds of parties? Are there special rooms for two people who've decided to engage in some spanking activity to go off and be separate from the crowd, or will people be getting put over knees right in the middle of the living room?

Might I be one of them?

How appropriate is it to watch/comment/interact while spanking may be happening? Who will be there? Is it going to be mostly spankees with nobody to spank them, or will it be a whole bunch of spankers with nobody to spank? Will the coffee table in the sitting room be arranged with a display of implements for the use of the party guests?

Would it be too obvious if I pointed at one and pondered aloud, "Ooh, I wonder what that one would feel like...?"

Will people be having casual conversations about spanking? Will they be pouncing on me with questions because I'm new to their party group? Will I clam up or will the social butterfly feel comfortable enough to come out?

Will somebody offer to/insist that they spank me?

What do people wear to these things? Will most people be going with the St. Patrick's Day theme and dress in green with leprechaun hats? Or is it more like the bdsm scene where people flounce about in thigh-highs with garter belts, and leather vests with bare chests?

Am I more likely to get spanked if I wear a skirt, or jeans?

Naturally, some/one question/s are occupying my mind more than others. :D

All shall be answered tonight, I suppose, when I venture out to experience a new type of kinky semi-public event... I hope to make some new friends, have some interesting conversations, ((return home well spanked,)) and report back to you soon, dear readers : )

Spanking in Wonderland

I have had the pleasure, recently, of bearing witness to the fascinating visual stimulation of the newest Tim Burton film, a re-imagined Alice in Wonderland/Through the Looking Glass conglomeration.


SUCH costumes!

Positively "crazy, mad," and wondrous :D My favorite character, though minor, is most definitely the March Hare -- you'll have to watch it to see what I mean.

Now, in the very beginning, we are still located in "real"-land, before Alice's great adventure. This real land happens to be London, during the century when the men still wore waistcoats and the women petticoats and corsets. Alice's father is discussing a bold new business venture with his fellow smartly-dressed gentlemen, when Alice gets out of bed and appears innocently in the hallway, silent as a mouse, but where her father can clearly see her.

He turns away from his business partners, concerned for his daughter. "The dream again?" he queries gently, and she nods.

Ever the father first, the business-man second, he lets his guests know that he "won't be long" and approaches his daughter, holding out his hand for her to take it, and (presumably) escorts her back to her bedroom. Once Alice is safely tucked back in bed, he proceeds to sit with her and allow her to recount the dream that has been plaguing her and waking her in the middle of the night... the dream with a smiling cat and a blue caterpillar. He then comforts her, and we are led to believe that she drifts back to sleep while he goes back to his meeting, because the next scene is a tremendous "13 years later."

As you may imagine, the version that ensued in my head went a little differently... causing me to be severely distracted for at least the next 3-4 minutes of real-time film...

In my version, Alice's father was still just as gracious and gentle, just as willing to put his family before his business, but this would have been the umpteenth meeting his Alice had interrupted, and he would have warned her that the next time, he would not be quite so forgiving. He'd have given her a soothing night-lamp and good thoughts to think to help her fall back to sleep after the dream; he'd have told her she was a big girl now and that he would have to start punishing her for getting out of bed so late.

This moment in the film, naturally, would have been the one time young Alice had set foot beyond her father's vast realms of patience, and although he would show no hint of this in front of his business partners, once the pair were back in Alice's room, he would fix her with a stern and meaningful gaze.

"Alice."

"Yes, Daddy?" She would look at him quizzically, unnerved by his tone of voice.

"You do remember what I told you the last time you came out of your room after bedtime, don't you?"

Her eyes would grow wide: "Yes, but Daddy--"

"I know you had a bad dream, but you are old enough now to know that it's just a dream and nothing can hurt you in your dreams. You know better now than to get out of bed and interrupt Daddy's meetings."

She would be fidgeting by now, bunching up her fists in her nightgown and staring down at the carpet. She would also remember what her father had said he was going to do if she got out of bed again... she just never thought he would actually do it...

Her father, watching her, would seem to read her mind.

"You know what's going to happen now, don't you, Alice?" His voice would be calm and quiet. He would not be happy about what he now has to do, but he would know that it is for his daughter's own good.

Alice's curly blonde head would rise slowly, and she would meet her father's eyes, trembling slightly. "Please don't, Daddy..."

"I must, Alice. You know better." With this, he would sit down on the edge of her bed, and gently pull her close to him. "I'm not going to stop until I think you've learned your lesson. Is that clear, Alice?"

She would nod mutely, her face still communicating a state of shock at the events unfolding around her. She would not even find the will to struggle as he guides her firmly over his sturdy lap, places his left hand around her hip to steady her, and lifts her nightgown.

His worldly colleagues would wait patiently for his return, sitting comfortably in the study, sipping cognac and listening to the telltale sounds of a responsible, concerned father disciplining his daughter. Small, knowing smiles would appear on their lips as they pondered the fanciful antics of youth, and the trials and tribulations of parenting. : )