Kink in Plain Sight

I've mentioned the kink-abilities of vanilla items before: the belt, in particular... But never before has this particular story about a vanilla belt been published for lovely readers like yourselves, because it took place in my own living room during the past year, among many very vanilla friends... : )

One of my best friends, who is very dear to me, is also quite vanilla. Not the strung-so-tightly-he may-burst-at-any-moment type of vanilla, but simply of the opinion that most of what he knows as 'fetishes' are, in fact, rather hilarious.

This is the same friend who ran up to me one day while we were in Borders Books, holding this book: "FETISH" by David Bramwell and Petra Joy, pictured at right--a fun and informative read for anyone interested in learning more about the wide range of human fetishes...

My friend, we'll call him Ray, was giggling (he's a tall guy... seeing him giggle is rather a rarity), and flipping through the fun-filled tome to show me outrageous things, as if it were some enormous joke :D I laughed, too, of course, but things like this make me think that either he would never be into any of it at all, or deep down inside somewhere he really is and just doesn't know it yet...

On the particular day when this story takes place, we happened to have several friends over, and everybody was hanging out in the living room: doing homework, watching TV, browsing the web on their laptops, munching on chips and popcorn... As a college house with four students living in it, you could say it wasn't necessarily the neatest of places, but we had room to have friends over pretty often, if not for huge parties than just for an evening of studying or playing Guitar Hero together on a Saturday night (surprisingly, with no alcohol or pot involved)... : )

So, there's an empty package of Oreo cookies -- the kind that comes with a thin, semi-solid tray for the cookies inside the plastic outer wrapper. For some unknown reason, Ray picks it up and starts hitting Ian with it -- another mutual friend of ours hanging out on the couch. Ray happens to have known Ian for longer than I have, because they went to high school together, but the age-gap between them, and their relation to each other in high school (Ray as a Drum Major, Ian as band student), makes Ray a kind of 'teacher' in relation to Ian. As it happens, Ian is also something of a 'student' in relation to myself, being one of the newest members of an organization for which I was in a leadership role at the time.

Clearly, Ray and I are in competition here over the well-being of Ian, our mutual friend and 'student.' Ray and I are also relatively the same age -- he is about 8 months older, but Ian and several of our other friends present in the living room are all close to 3 years younger than both of us.

Therefore, in playful indignation, I intervene in Ray's attack on Ian, grabbing the other empty Oreo package and hitting him back. Ray is not the type to give up a fight, so we keep at it -- he is bigger, stronger, and more athletic, so his reflexes are far better, and I have to resort to flailing wildly at him while he laughs and blocks, landing several easy hits on me.

The fight escalates when I tip over the chair he was sitting in and he sprawls onto the floor, caught off-guard... I try to keep him on the floor with the chair, but he easily pushes me off once he regains composure -- by now the whole room is watching and laughing with us... I start running out of the room, knowing that he'll chase after me -- he gets hold of my arm and drags me back into the living room, expending a great amount of effort trying to 'tip' me over in the same way, to have me land on the floor without getting hurt...

Finally he gets the better of me and causes my balance to falter, but I am able to drag him partially to the floor with me, and by now we are grabbing at each other's legs and arms and torsos without restraint, both laughing breathlessly. :D

He is finally able to straighten up enough, with me still clutching at his legs, to put his hands to his belt and start undoing it.

I see him do this, and I can hear one of the girls watching from the couch gasp through her laughter. The noise level in the room is going up as people start laughing louder, wooing and cat-calling.

Ray doubles the belt over and starts aiming high-handed thwaks at my legs -- I yell, still laughing, and try squirming out of the way... I am breathless with mirth and veiled arousal -- Between laughs and shrieks I manage to shout, "Raymond! What are you doing?!?"

The whole room and the two of us are still laughing raucously -- it was all-in-all a very funny and innocent situation, although the stinging from his belt on my legs and thighs and sometimes arms when I was able to block was quite deliciously real. He responds, laughing, "This is what happens when you're bad! You get spanked!" And that statement, so incredibly foreign coming from his lips, happens to be accompanied by a swing of his belt which hits the back of my upper thigh, very close to home... : )

This went on for a least a few minutes, with me dodging and blocking on the floor, everyone falling over laughing, and finally me grabbing the other end of his belt and him dragging me across the floor with it... After that it dissolved into a tickling match, and with my vantage point from the floor I got him behind his knees, causing him to really fall on the floor with me.

Things eventually quieted down, but I was still very secretly flustered... It was quite the startle, especially considering that Ray knows absolutely nothing about my attraction to that sort of activity... :D

Right as Rayne :D

Every once in a while, life can get stressful, and one's mind can get a little lost in the fray... : ) This happens to me on occasion (when all of the stars and planets align just right, you know...), and at times I can succumb to small spells of mental and emotional illogicality.

Oh yes, it can happen -- I will be the first to admit. :D

Mostly, these spells tend to blow over, or I can find the counter-curses to them rather quickly, and pretty soon (a matter of hours, or maybe a night to sleep on it), I am right as rayne again. : ) Usually, they have to do with this silly little thing that we humans do called comparison, and a certain homosapien-like need to feel as if one 'fits in,' or 'belongs' somehow to a certain supportive social group.

Being a rather quiet, subdued person, it can often take a while for me to feel included in any particular group of people -- but I know and like this about myself... I like to observe a situation before jumping in, remain on the sidelines until I can make out every shadow and detail... But I also know that this can end up isolating me from many social opportunities, which is okay, too, when I'm being rational about it, and realize that I really don't need to fit into everything everywhere just to feel worthwhile. :D I'm worth quite enough on my own, thank you :D

One such spell of illogicality happened to fall upon me, though, during my last venture out on the public BDSM scene -- an adventure which was highly fulfilling, successful, exhilarating, and altogether wonderful, as you can probably tell from another recent post about the same event...

The event spanned more than one single day, and what I am about to describe happened around the middle of the second day, between lunch time and dinner time. I recognized it right away -- I was falling into a pattern of self-isolation, watching the butterfly-like personalities of so many of the other girls there around me, seeing them put smiles on peoples' faces and trying new things... I was perfectly happy being myself, as usual, but for some reason the stressed-out part of my brain decided that it wasn't happy, and wanted to start heading down a depressive track...

My partner, with whom I was attending the event, noticed. I decided to try to chat about it with him over our late lunch, to see if I could talk myself out of it, with his help.

By the time everyone at the event was downstairs enjoying a pot-luck dinner, however, it was clear that I hadn't quite gotten over my worries about personality inadequacies, feeling myself quite forgettable and worthless. I know -- illogical, right? See! But it happens sometimes, to all of us... we just have to learn how to see it for it what it is... completely bogus : )

This time, luckily, I had some help jumping the hurdle. :D

While the rest of the party was still gathered around the first floor eating their dinner, my partner took me by the hand and led me to the stairs... I was hesitant, slightly depressed, uncertain, but when I looked up at him questioningly and he gave me a small nod and a smile, reassurance washed over me, and I followed him willingly up to the second floor. He led me down the hall and into the upstairs dungeon play-area...

By then I had some idea of what he was going to do, but most of my brain was still distracted by its broodings over self-dislike...

He bent me over one of the leather-padded table contraptions, and started spanking me with his hand... : ) My short skirt, in honor of the kinky event at which we were in attendance, left me very little protection... He was spanking a little faster and a little harder than he usually did, as if wanting to make a stiff point. I was already teary-eyed by about half-way through, knowing that he was doing this for my own good, reminding me of his presence and love for me.


Upon finishing, he helped me off the table and down to my knees in front of him, where he cradled my face in his hands and told me things that I shouldn't have needed to hear, because I already knew them, but which helped tremendously in that moment and which, when he spoke them out-loud, made my heart sing and spirits soar.

We proceeded to a nearby bed after that, where we lay side-by-side and he held me, letting me cry into his shoulder for a while to release any remaining tension, and I emerged a new force, ready to immensely enjoy the rest of a very fun and kink-filled evening :D Thank you, Love : ) I needed that! :D

Spankopoly!

Much like the spanking coloring books for which I have heavily advocated in the past, it is my strong opinion that the world needs more kinky boardgames. :D

Take Monopoly, for example:


One of your very classic American boardgames. The thing about Monopoly is, it is (for some reason) far more likely that you will land on the "GO TO JAIL" space, as opposed to the "FREE PARKING" space, or the "GO" space, both of which are also placed on corners of the board, and both of which provide you with a substantial amount of extra money every time you land on them. (Whereas the Go To Jail space pictured above merely imprisons you for a maximum of three turns, and causes you to miss the chance of landing on Free Parking entirely...)

Therefore, I propose that, since "GOING TO JAIL" seems to happen more often (aided, of course, by cards that you can pick up which also send you to jail), we make this portion of the game far more interesting.

Instead of jail, for instance, how about this alternative?--

Don't you think this might add a bit more spice to such a traditional family game? :D And of course, the cards sending someone to jail would have to reflect the change as well, along with the "Get Out of Jail Free" cards... Perhaps, "Get/Give Another Spanking Free"? :D

Suddenly, landing on the "GO TO JAIL" space so often wouldn't be as much of a downer... In fact, I might even end up trying to cheat just to get there...! : )

After a bit of poking around, I've discovered that the folks over at American Spanking Society seem to have already gotten this whole game figured out! The version of Spankopoly featured in one of their posts from spring of last year looks quite intriguing :D I wouldn't mind getting in on a game or two of that edition!!

Meanwhile, I will be taking a look at our bookshelves of boardgames, and brainstorming more ways to roll the kinky-game movement forward...

Kinky Wear: Garter Edition

There's something so delightfully spank-tastic about some particular kinds of lingerie, wouldn't you agree? In today's closer look, we'll be zeroing in on one such lovely piece of kinky wear: the garter belt (and stockings), as modeled so nicely below...


I've always been a huge fan of garters and garter belts: the way they create such an enticing and convenient frame... :D *blush*

Such a fan, in fact, that it didn't even matter if my mother was with me on the day we were out shopping and I happened to stumble upon a Frederick's that was having a MAJOR sale... I didn't yet own any garter belts at the time and I wanted to so badly that I didn't care who saw me buying them! As it turned out, she didn't really seem to mind all that much... :D

Already within my possession at that point (unbeknownst to my shopping companion) were the thigh-high stockings I would need to complete the look, so without further ado I stocked up on a few choice garters to add to a growingly kinky collection of clothing... (non-clothing?) Remembering to vary color and style, such as the magenta one I found above, and the smokey blue below, rather than just buy out the whole place on the spot...

For some reason this type of lingerie always takes my mind back to the very first time that I ever saw the musical Caberet, at the ripe old age of 11... It was also the first time I'd ever seen anything quite like a garter belt and stockings on a lovely young woman, and I remember it affecting me even then...

Never in my wildest dreams did I ever think that I would actually be able to wear one myself, or look good doing so!... But in reality, they do a lot to compliment any type of figure :D That aforementioned framing action works surprisingly well... :D:D

Now that my kinky closet is swelling, I'm having trouble remembering just where I threw that last pair of bow-topped stockings or shockingly short plaid skirt... Letting vanilla friends into my room is becoming something of a spectacle -- I'm sure they must just think I'm a bit of a neat freak, zooming around the room in front of them yanking random articles of clothing out of sight... :D

I suppose this is just a precursor to when I start accumulating large stores of implements...

"What is... why do you have a crook-handled school cane propped in the corner? Next to --"

"The birch rod? Oh, those are just props for my sister's school play..." that I apparently forgot to throw a sheet over... "She asked me to hold on to them for her till the weekend... It's set in historical England and they just need them to be sitting in the background for authenticity..."

"The handcuffs, too? And did women wear bright pink garters back then?"

Turning a deep shade of red, "Uh..." :D Maybe I should start coming up with stories now, just to have a few filed away in case such situations do happen to pop up in the future... : )

Officially Kinky

As is usually the case with public offices, the manager's office at work is equipped with a wide array of office supplies -- you know the drill: paper clips, pens, a hairbrush, sticky notes, a stapler, a computer, maybe a box of tissues, a heavy leather strap hanging from the back of the door...


Some of those may have been fabricated... but for the most part, you have the picture. :D

You may see one office supply not mentioned above -- though probably more likely to be found in your typical office setting than some of the similarly kinky pervert-ables listed -- featured here: yes, a ruler. : )

In fact, a ruler does reside in the manager's office at work. Most of the time, however, it remains docilely hidden in one of the many drawers or cabinets... Until one day, when I happened to be entering the office during a particularly long spell of boredom (aka, no work to do), for no other reason than to participate in some non-work-related chit-chat with the gaggle of managers inside... As you can probably understand, I was already a feeling a little guilty about the fact that I wasn't doing any work while at work, and on top of that, planning to continue not doing work in front of the managers -- but I know enough about the culture of my work to be sure of the fact that none of them would mind in the least, and indeed, probably wouldn't have been doing much work themselves for the past twenty minutes anyway. Still, the back of my mind managed to maintain a grip on this tiny guilty feeling of wrongdoing as I walked into the manager's office...

And no sooner had I entered said office than did the manager sitting nearest to my line of sight decide to slam the ruler -- which he just happened to be holding -- down on the desk as he turned toward me with a mock exasperated look on his face.

He merely meant to scare me (poking fun at how easily I startle, a personality trait of mine now well-known and widely taken advantage of at work), and make a comical sarcastic statement about the general lack of work taking place... Instead, I stopped dead in my tracks -- startled, yes, but oh so aware of the ridiculously kinky potential of an office full of all-male managers, with one female employee caught not doing work, forced over the knees of the already seated and armed store manager, and reminded of the strict and necessary rules of the workplace... :D

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, when the simple matter of a ruler slammed on a desk in joking fun strikes this kind of chord in me, I can formally say that I am: officially kinky. :)

The Right to Sign

Paddles generally reside relatively low on my list of favorite implements... Hard, wooden, unforgiving, and sometimes quite oar-ishly heavy, they can be quite a pain... literally. : ) This does not mean, however, that I can't appreciate their most satisfying and effective (occasional) use in spanking... Well-known here is my affinity for implements of the leather variety... but sometimes the stern woodiness of a paddle is a nice change of pace. :D

Just recently, I had the pleasure of being introduced to the paddle featured at left (speaking of oar-ish!!), thus having earned the right, as you can see, to place my name upon its soon-to-be extensive list of victims. : )

Not just a few light taps, either! We're talking being bent forward, gripping the seat of a chair, and taking four hard swats followed by a fifth that literally knocked me off my feet...! Thankfully, my jeans were allowed to absorb most of the sting, leaving me with the lovely (but no less intense) thuddy after-effect...

Signing paddles is something of a tradition, at least in the U.S., among fraternities and sororities and I'm sure a few other organizations... although I'm not sure that taking a paddling is a necessary prerequisite to signing the paddle in most cases... I know I've signed a fair few paddles as part of similar organizations, but this is the first time that such a requirement has presented itself to me -- and of course I leapt at the opportunity! :)

Thank you to my friend and spanker, and owner of this paddle... :) May you spank many more willing contributors to your list of paddle-worthy names!

Presidential Punishment

During one of President Obama's recent speeches, I had the pleasure of noticing certain juicy snippets which seemed a tad bit more succulent than the usual obligatory mentions of democracy and civil responsibility... (Which, of course, are quite appetizing in themselves -- don't get me wrong... just in a slightly different fashion... :D)

For one, he made a passing reference to a bit of history which until then had remained unknown to me: Apparently, the relatively short and turbulent history of American government includes, in fact, a caning, that took place on the floor of the Senate, in the 1850s. Now, the actual historical account of this event (as subsequently researched by yours truly as soon as was humanly possible) is much less erotically stirring than a simple passing mention -- in reality it was more of a violent attack than a 'caning.' But may we find solace in the fact that, without overlooking the undeniable importance of historical accuracy, there still exists a possibility of fudging the details a bit in a world of fantasy and letting imagination take flight -- provided, of course, that said imagination recognizes itself as an elaborate whim, rather than a factual occurrence.

As soon as the President said the word "caning," and then proceeded, quite suspiciously, to chuckle to himself, my mind took just such a fanciful flight: right back to this intriguingly thought-provoking photo (below), that I had stumbled upon only about a month ago among the online White House photo albums.


Somehow, somebody got the chance to snap this lovely photo.

Somehow, somebody allowed it to be posted to the public White House photo site, despite its incredibly potent content...

An authoritative male figure seated behind an ornate and regal desk in the background, clearly working intently on some immensely large and important tome... A waiting, silent, be-skirted female figure (need I mention the particular area of her figure which has in fact been framed so perfectly?) in the foreground, her hands clasped behind her back in -- is it nervousness? anxiety? shyness? uncertainty? all of the above?

Perhaps I am simply listening to the President's speeches and clicking through his online photos with the eyes and ears of a hard-wired spanko, but for goodness sake, how could you miss it? Is there something about Mr. Obama that he's not telling us? Wishful thinking, no doubt...

Well, at least I live in a country where I can make these kinds of imaginative leaps concerning our national leader without being hauled off to jail, or publicly flogged, or sent to meet him in his study wearing a skirt and glancing warily at the bundles of canes sitting serenely in an antique vase before his gilded desk... :D