Spanked on a Park Bench

I have let nearly the entire month of October slip by without a single blog post! Shame on me!

It's not for lack of material -- living with a spanko, I have more material from the past few months than I have ever been able to amass in my entire life before moving in :D

What is it then? Perhaps it could do with the fact that I am not online nearly as much as I used to be... Besides spending more time furthering my career, I am also no longer constantly looking for ways to fill other needs... I have everything I could ever dream of asking for right here :D

It is truly a pleasure, whenever I can, to share this journey with people who enjoy hearing about it.

Thank you for being such a patient, gracious audience, as I find a new rhythm for living and posting about a spanking journey that has taken a very positive turn :D

~~~~

Walking around outside in the twilight hours with a Top can be a very dangerous thing. Especially if you yourself happen to be a Bottom or Spankee. And you happen to be walking around a rather deserted park. With benches. And plenty of tree cover.

Let me show you what happens:

Ladies and Gentlemen, I can assure you, I speak from experience. :D

This very thing happened to me not more than a few weeks ago, when the weather was still mostly hospitable but brisk enough to keep most people indoors as the sun left the sky.

There we were, strolling through the neighborhood park, quite aware of being all alone.

Passing by one bench -- quite close to the entrance.

Passing by another -- still in plain view of the cars zipping by on the street.

Approaching a third bench -- tucked away in the quiet trees of the park, facing away from the street, away from the empty playground on the other side of the green, protected from the view of backyards by rows of tall bushes and branches of leaves.

A pause.

A look -- exchanged.

We are both thinking one thing. Although I am feeling nervous and anxious and giddy all at once.

He is just giddy. :D


Before I can think too much, I am already being pulled toward the bench. In one fluid motion he sits down and guides me over his lap, ignoring my verbal protestations and frantic glancing around to make absolutely positively undeniably sure that we are without a doubt inescapably and totally alone.

SMACK!

Already his hand is coming down on the seat of my jeans -- hard and fast and without any regard for the sound that must be echoing all through the park right now.

SMACK! SMACK!

Suddenly my jeans are coming down and it's all I can do to keep from crying out, not wanting to draw any attention whatsoever from the surrounding brush. Even the flowers blooming so brightly nearby should turn away and hide their colors, in my opinion. No eye should be drawn in this direction!

SMACK SMACK SMACK!

Now he is spanking me over my panties, my face beet red, the sound of his hand on my skin amplified by the lack of thick cloth to muffle each smack.

As quick as it began, it is over. My pants come back up, and I scurry to sit up next to him and hide my face in his chest. Terrified to look around to see if even a single living soul has ventured within the park in the last 45 seconds.

He is chuckling, stroking my hair and holding me, safe in his knowledge that I will soon look up at him with my face shining, grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

Once I calmed down, and was assured that we were in fact alone the whole time, we decided to take some pictures in order to solidify a shared memory of the event. It was, in effect, the first time he had truly spanked me outdoors, and as we planned to add to that a great many more times, remembering the first was special for us.

He took off his hat, and we set it on the bench right where he had been sitting. We snapped the photo above, and now every time we walk by that bench, day or night, alone or in public, we will both smile and remember :D

Spanking Surprise!

There we were, enjoying ourselves with friends at a nice little restaurant on the eastern shore line, having just come out of a refreshingly cool yet sunny jaunt in the ocean, recently dried off and de-sanded as best we could, waiting for our drinks to arrive.

I quietly announced a need to visit the restroom, before taking my leave from the table.

Little did I know, I was expeditiously followed...

As they tend to be in restaurants, the restrooms in this sea-side establishment were placed far at the back of the building, off to the side, in a little alcove far removed from any unsuspecting diners.

It wasn't until I was about to exit the conveniently-placed little room, however, and rejoin my friends at our dinner table, that I came to realize just how convenient their placement really was--

Upon opening the door, it took every effort for me not to gasp as the figure of my partner, his finger pressed to his lips, suddenly appeared and began shuffling me back the way I had come.

Surprise, surprise!

Having already switched off the light, I reached around him to switch it back on again, becoming quickly aware of his dubious plan, while he pulled the door shut quickly behind him. My reach, quite fortuitously, had put me in the perfect position, and he needed not a single moment more to wrap his left arm around my waist and hold me fast while delivering hard, fast spanks over my dress.

He was spanking me

just inside the door of the restaurant's

public facilities!

And not just a few playful slaps, either -- this spanking was quite hard, and more than a bit painful! :D

I dared not cry out, and he dared not lift my dress and risk producing the much louder sound of skin striking skin (actually, I don't know if he really "dared not" -- I think he probably would have dared :D In reality it was most likely a function of being quick, and sparing me much more extreme embarrassment) :D

When he finally let me stand up straight after 15 or 20 seconds (with more than once smack per second! :D), his face shone with triumph. We had never done anything like that before -- and as far as we could tell, with lack of police sirens wailing outside or managers hammering on the door demanding to know what naughty business might be going on, we were quite successful!

Out we came from the tiny off-set room, straightening up and re-entering the world of normal public restaurant behavior. Did the smile plastered on both of our faces when we returned to our table give us away to our dining companion? Or did my flinch when I went to sit down again go utterly unnoticed? I suppose we'll never know...

What we do know, is that we had a very fun time at the beach, and that we have a very fun secret to share, whenever and wherever we possibly can -- even when it happens to be a surprise! :D:D

Corner Time

I have been ordered to stand in a corner (in real life) twice in my twenty-some years. Both times as an adult, and both times in conjunction with spanking exploits. Both while bare *blush* : )

The first time was for a solid fifteen minutes.

In the living room.

With big bay windows facing the street (thankfully, a large, full-foliage tree covered most of the view...), and a glass sliding door leading out to the patio in the back yard.

I could see right out into the yard -- it was lined with high hedges, not a soul in sight... (thank god). :)


He was sitting at the table right behind me, shuffling papers and doing work, while I stood there, nose in the corner, red bottom on display -- as if my being there like that was completely normal and matter-of-fact. Something that just happens to naughty girls, no questions asked. *blush*

(The above two photos are both gems that I found on Through Arianna's Looking Glass)

He had just finished spanking me in the room down the hall, after which he had immediately proceeded to haul me through the house, jeans and panties around my ankles, out into the living room, and place me firmly where I stood, informing me that should I move before he told me I could come out, we'd be pulling a chair out onto the backyard patio and he would spank me out there!

In broad daylight!

(As a side-note, we did have a safe-word, and I recognized this as more of an exhilarating threat than an actual possibility -- as he knew very well of the fine line I walk between exhibitionism and concern for my own safety.)

I did not move an inch, dear readers -- I dared not move a muscle!

Every once in a while, I would hear him stop working, sense him turn in his seat, and feel his gaze on me -- nonchalant, as if surveying the clock for the time -- but each time I knew he was looking, by face flushed and I tried that much harder not to move, as the urge to squirm intensified...

(Artwork by Sassy Bottoms)

The second time that I have ever been ordered to a corner, which just happened very recently, was for (thankfully!) a substantially shorter period of time -- but equally as significant :)

Again, he had just finished spanking me. When he ordered me up off his lap, I had immediately pulled my panties up. He pointed across the room and said, "In the corner, pull your panties back down to your knees, hands together behind your back."


With my bottom burning, and still gaining my balance back after being tipped over his lap, it must have been taking me too long to get situated in the corner -- he came over and peremptorily helped position my hands where he wanted them, intensifying my sense of his authority over me.

To keep my panties at my knees, I had to bend one calf out a little -- really not wanting them to drop to my ankles... There's something terribly exposing about feeling them there, so close, and yet not close enough!

I stood there, panties around my knees, my face as red as my bottom, knowing that he was right behind me but not sure whether he was watching or not... Breathing heavily from the very recent spanking, and from pure embarrassment... My mind reeling and heart racing...

(Artwork by Escobar)

It was a least a few minutes. Long enough for my breathing to slow and my mind to quiet ever so slightly. Only then, when he heard me starting to calm down after several long minutes, did he tell me to come out of the corner and lay over the pile of pillows on the bed -- he was taking off his belt...!

Whatever could have possessed me to think that we were done?! Apparently, corner time can serve just as well as "intermission" as it can signal the end of a spanking -- something I will have to remember in future! :D

At the Top of the Stairs

I am shy. Especially now in this tight black dress, the tops of my thigh-high stockings left visible by its shortness, my heels rendering me vulnerable and, somehow, powerful at the same time...

When you bid me, "Come here," I take only a few steps closer. Then you fix your gaze on me, stern yet comforting -- you point firmly to the ground right next to your feet, and repeat, "Here."

I am close to you now, yet cannot meet your eyes. Because, yes, I do know what is going to happen to me now -- I do know that you are going to spank me, that you are going to lift the back of my dress, as you are doing right now, and remind me of the reason I came to meet you.

"Look at you in your cute little black panties," the grin in your voice is unmistakable.

Your palm, warm, larger than my own, rests there over my panties, your fingers on my skin -- your voice in my ear telling me what naughty girls deserve... It's a wonder that I can even remain standing upright. : )

That's when you motion to the stair railing, and instruct me to bend over, "all the way," with the rail positioned perfectly under my hips. I have a view of the entire front foyer from here, at the very top of the stairs.

Only a moment passes for me to take in my predicament, however, before your hand drives my body forward, and my mind backward -- it's happening now, again and again -- my upturned bottom is vulnerable, my dress is too short to cover anything in this position, and you are standing there right behind me, spanking me.

My fingers can curl no tighter around the railing posts, my hips can turn no further upward nor press any more firmly against the wooden banister, and still you spank me, the sound of it echoing down the stairs and through the hall, right to the front door.

If anyone happened to walk in at this moment, cheeks red from the winter chill, they would be greeted with the sight of an equally red-faced naughty girl, being punished over the railing at the top of the stairs.

Suddenly, you order me up, and against the wall nearby.

Head and shoulders on the wall, back arched, hips out and up. Hips out -- up more, little girl.

Now, when you spank me, I don't have a railing to rely on -- I have to hold position myself. Your left arm around my waist lends me strength, while at the same time exacerbating my sense of exposure -- reminding me of your intense focus on one particular area of my body. With my hips up like this, each spank reaches me in a deeper place. I can feel my legs inching slowly further and further apart, as if acting with a mind of their own.

Then your pace slows, and you release your grip. I know better than to move out of position, though, and sure enough, only a few breaths later, your fingers move to your belt buckle.

A small sound escapes my throat as the SWOOSH of leather through belt loops fills the air, and I watch over my shoulder as you wind the belt around your hand.

"You're going to count out 20 -- is that clear?"

"Yes, Sir," my voice leaks out, barely more than a whisper.

"I didn't hear you, little girl..."

I steel my lungs to fill up, my vocal chords to pulse with life: "Yes, Sir." A little louder this time. My heart beat quickens -- I can see you reaching back...

SMACK!
The strength of the first catches me by surprise, even though I saw it coming. "One, thank you, Sir!"

SMACK!

"Two, thank you, Sir." Mmm I am remembering how much I love the feeling of heavy leather...

By 18, however, I am doing my best not to writhe against the wall with each stinging stroke of your belt on my skin.

SMACK!
"Nnn... 19... thank you, Sir..." I know I've made it through now, but I also know that this is the last one -- the hardest. My whole body is tensed, my nerves on edge, my skin tingling in anticipation.

SMACK!!!
"Ohh! Nnn twenty... Thank you... Sir."

Your warm hand on my red bottom immediately rubs some of the sting away, and I begin to breathe relaxation back into my body.

You move to some distance behind me, and give me permission to rub. With the side of my face still pressed gratefully against the cold white wall, I allow my hands to venture back, to curl around my sit-spot and soak up the heat now radiating from my skin.


"Now, over here -- we're nowhere near through yet. No -- did I tell you that you could pull your dress down? Leave it right where it is." The light in your eyes reminds me how much you are enjoying yourself -- hopefully my blush communicates the same to you.

You instruct me to move down three steps and to turn around. As I watch, you position yourself on the top step, your left foot on the second step down, knee turned outward.

I realize where this is going even before you direct me forward over your knee, my torso on the landing, my legs suspended in the air down the steps.

You are spanking me now over your knee at the top of the stairs -- my bottom framed by your arm around my waist, made vulnerable by my hips' angle over your single thigh, exposed to the whole vast space of the stairway and sprawling hall below.

Just when I think there can be no greater embarrassment to this situation, your fingers find the waist-band of my panties, and begin to pull. "You've been a very naughty girl, haven't you? Yes you have. Daddy has to pull down your panties and spank you properly -- on your bare bottom..."


This is a moment that I will find myself replaying over and over again in my memory. : )

I am now bare, utterly exposed not only to you, but also to the expanse of stairs stretching out below us, and being spanked over your knee like a naughty little girl. I can only imagine what somebody standing down there would be able to see, looking up here.

In fact, my imagination is running wild by this point, as my mind and body begin drifting into that elusive, euphoric space, where pain becomes pleasure, and a naughty, well-spanked girl becomes the best kind of girl in the world.

Second photo featuring Abigail Whittaker of Firm Hand Spanking
Third photo from NylonDivas.com
Second-to-last photo courtesy of Miss Jules via Pandora Blake

An Evening with Miss Pink, Vol. 3

And here we are, Ladies and Gents, the final installment of our little adventure! As I make the final preparations for entering the realms of higher education and moving out of state, my blogging has slowed down considerably. But don't fret! I am still here and will continue to write, and when I am finally settled into a new routine at my new school, I shall be back to my old blogging self :D

For now, enjoy! : )

In Vol. 2, I chose to highlight a few of the most challenging bits of my double-spanking adventure with Miss Pink. Those special moments when we needed each other most, and, indeed, when we both accomplished new heights of endurance. I would like to end, however, with the lighter side of our encounter -- which really was the majority of our experience together.

For example:
About two-thirds of the way through, our spanker decided that we both needed a break: Barely was getting a little too Pink, and I must have been showing signs as well, because I could definitely feel it :D

Barely and I sat side-by-side on the couch and D pulled up a chair to sit directly in front of us, his eyes bright, hands warm. He'd brought over a large bowl of tiny frozen eclairs and cream puffs -- Yummy! We spent the next several minutes trying to determine whether to eat the frozen treats, or to simply press the cold sides of the bowl to our heated bottoms...

Another fun moment designated my own first step into the realm of mischievous spankee behavior for the evening: I discovered that from my perch on the couch, watching Barely getting spanked over her man's knee, I could in fact look beyond them and into the glass of the fire-place grate. Much to my surprise and delight, the glass provided a perfect reflective surface, and my friend's pinkening bottom shone brightly back at me from the reflection, D's hand making contact at a steady but solid pace.

(If you know/are the artist of the drawing at right, please share so that I may credit and link! :D)

After he let her up, I sheepishly made reference to the convenient placement of the glass, and the nature of what I'd seen there -- much to Miss Pink's grinning embarrassment.

Unlike my brave partner, I continually insisted on pulling my jeans (tight as they were) back up after every trip over D's knee or the arm of the couch or wherever I may have been precariously positioned only moments before...

I don't know why -- perhaps I'm shy, or perhaps, as my friends began to suggest, I have a "thing" for pulling down my pants, or having them pulled down for me... especially just before a spanking... :D

Either way, I knew that my fellow spankee was enjoying her singular lack of pants, and I was enjoying the opportunity to watch what was visible of her bottom around her argyle panties slowly become pinker and pinker, peeking out from under her shirt as she went to draw her next two cards... All of this view while mine was thoroughly covered and safe from prying eyes! :D

Toward the end of our ordeal, Barely discovered that placing her panty-clad sit-spot on the cold marble of D's fire-place (which conveniently splayed out over part of the floor to create a perfect little ledge upon which to sit) did wonders to cool the skin.

I quickly joined her, once again lowering my jeans just enough to allow the necessary skin-to-marble contact, and we both softly hissed our swiftly building relief. (Photo above courtesy of Real Spankings Institute)

As fate would have it (or perhaps some gentle stacking of the deck? :D), the last three cards in the deck proved to include at least one face card (aka a high number!) and, of course, a deuce (meaning we both take the added count). What better way to bring our adventure to a close than with the both of us bent over the side of the table together, side-by-side, pants and panties around our knees (though modesty-upholding thongs still in place), hands clenched, alternately counting out each stroke as it came down...? :D Each count came accompanied with small gasps and yelps, both of us seeing and feeling the other squirm slightly as every stroke made its landing.

Until, finally but all-too-soon, there were no more cards to draw, and the game ended with three very happy, very satisfied winners.

Thank you, dear friend, D, and dear readers, for sharing this experience with me :D

Perhaps one day soon, now that this part of the story has ended, I will let you read the epilogue -- which, in fact, is a-whole-nother story in and of itself! : )

An Evening with Miss Pink, Vol. 2

(Apologies to all for the minor delay -- the ceiling in our living room collapsed and quite vigorously destroyed many of our belongings, along with 50% of our first floor -- but no further harm was done, and it is now almost patched up... Our landlords have offered to cover everything, so all is well!)

And now, on to the good stuff... :D

You will find more about the specific mechanics of the game we played over at The Pink Report, but just as a refresher, I will run through the basic outline:

We had a single deck of cards, and Barely and I took turns flipping two cards each, adding the number together to determine the total number of strokes. If either of us drew a 2, it meant that we would both receive the full value of the two cards. We decided that the easiest thing to do would be to cycle through different implements (and to fudge the cycle a bit if either of us were somehow faced with enduring the same implement twice in a row) :D Among the array were: a heavy leather strap (hand-assembled by the spanker D himself), a wooden hairbrush, a leather belt, a crop, and D's hand.

Among the first few implements used on me (I can't quite remember whether it was the first or the second) was that malicious-looking heavy leather strap.

Now, if you know me, you will know of my fondness for leather, especially leather implements. On this day, however, just feasting my young eyes upon the mass and heft of that burly strap left me somewhat breathless... Yes, I can say, with mild reservation, that I was slightly intimidated. And rightfully so -- after about the twelfth stroke with it I nearly sprang straight up from over the arm of the couch where I had obediently bent only moments before.
(By the way, hips propped quite deliciously upward by the soft round arm of a couch happens to be quite a lovely position, as demonstrated by the enchanting illustration at right -- if you recognize the artist please let me know.)

I think Barely could sense how challenging it was for me to take that strap without a fuss, because later in the game, the next time I was faced with an inordinate number of strokes (a whopping 20!) with that same implement, she very kindly and concernedly offered to split the number with me.

This was something we continued to offer for each other throughout the game -- should one of us happen to draw a high number, we would make eye-contact, and the one whose bottom was technically safe for that turn would eagerly make the offer. Eager to help? Or, instead, eager to enjoy a piece of the pie...? :D Perhaps a little of both : )

In this instance, we agreed that if it turned out to be too much for me after the first ten, she would step in for the other half.

She sat on the couch while I bent, jeans down, over the arm, my head in her lap, our hands clasped. I can only imagine what a sight we were for D... :) I counted out the first ten, and then D kindly gave me the chance to think over whether I could take another ten. While my mind reeled in conflict, Barely asked softly if I was ok, and D filled in the blanks, "She wants the next set -- she wants to prove she can take it..." Just as it had happened a little earlier the first time I had offered to split with Barely -- she had decided to stick it out and take them all.

Following her example, I did the same. This may or may not have had something to do with the illusionary properties of having a temporary break from the sting of that strap -- because as soon as he started up again with the next ten, my breath left me and I wondered what in the world I'd been thinking!

Barely took up the count right away, cradling my torso in her arms, helping me through the last half. And in the end, D was right -- I did something that I had honestly thought I would be unable to do (the moment that 7 of hearts was joined by the King of spades and I realized which implement was next in line...), and that feeling of triumph, coupled with Barely's proud smile, was definitely worth it :D

The game continued, and both my friend and I cycled through many an implement along with many a position -- most of the time we were enjoying the age-old OTK over D's inviting lap, but sometimes certain implements required a certain amount of innovation: Barely bottom-up over a footstool, hands and feet on the carpet, me bent over the table, hips resting on the hard wood of its edge... If there is one thing that I enjoy immensely about the company of spankos (and there are many, many things), it is the ingenuity with which we can concoct a varying number of compromising positions, games, implements, etc., which all center around spanking in some way :D

More than once, Barely found herself bent, standing, over the back of D's couch, the table moved a few feet back to allow D ample arm-swinging room. This time, she was getting the belt, and almost immediately, it became apparent that D wanted to switch up the pace a bit -- the first stroke fell and she had barely eeked out "One!" before the next landed, leaving her quite breathless and surprised. D decided not to wait for the count, but struck a third time, eliciting a small cry from my friend as she squirmed over the couch, and I took up the swift count instead.

Slowly, I made my way over to the couch, sliding onto the seat right next to her and clasping her hands while I counted, as she had already done for me...

Ahh the precious moments of a spanko friendship :D

More tiny details and tidbits, along with the grand finale, will be coming up (hopefully much sooner this time!) in Vol. 3, but for now, I will leave us here, holding hands, and readying for the next spanking adventure...
: )

An Evening with Miss Pink, Vol. 1

When Miss Pink from The Pink Report approached me with the idea of joining her and her Dom for an evening of spanking fun, I don't have to tell you how quickly I jumped at the opportunity :D

I was nervous, excited, flattered, and highly conscious of not wanting to unintentionally overstep any boundaries with either Barely or her relationship -- I knew that this would not only be her first time getting spanked in front of someone else :), but also her first time seeing anyone else over her man's lap -- I didn't want my newly-found friendship to go sour over any hurt feelings... It turns out, however, that there was nothing to worry about! Barely's honesty and true knowledge of herself helped tremendously to ease that tension, and we both established from the beginning that any discomfort from either of us would be voiced and taken care of immediately -- a precaution which, in fact, went wholly un-needed throughout the night :D

Seeing Barely spanked first definitely kicked the night off right for me *blush* When he first ordered her over, it gave me a rush just to see her, to empathize, and yet to relish in the position of privileged onlooker... I couldn't decide where to plant myself -- I wanted to see every angle, to let her see me watching and yet to grant her any ounce of dignity I possibly could... I ended up in compromise, positioned to her side, telling myself that there would be plenty more opportunity to take advantage of different angling possibilities. :)

I am extremely shy in situations like this, and as such I remained exceedingly quiet during this first warm-up, but my mind was buzzing, and my blood rushing... watching D's hand make firm contact with my friend's upturned jean-clad bottom over his lap, hearing her little "oomphs" and "ahhs," :D seeing the look in her eyes as she obeyed D's order to drop her jeans...

All the while, running along in the back of my mind was an endless stream of tiny questions...

Will I be that brave?
How hard will he spank me?
Will she be as embarrassed watching as I will be receiving?

And then, quite suddenly, Barely was sufficiently pinkened, at both ends. :) D's eyes turned to me.

I could feel my breath catch in my throat.

I knew that I wouldn't be able to move without help -- without an order or even suggestion from D, or an encouraging look from Barely... Luckily, the pair came to my rescue, and I got both :D My friend led me into her Dom's care with her eyes, and soon I was face-down over his lap, still quite nervous, very excited, and *highly* embarrassed...

D's hand proved to be attention-grabbingly hard, and heavy -- the only thing light-hearted about this spanking was the mood, with happily conversational banter bouncing mercilessly through the room... I could tell from the very beginning that I would be able to feel this night for a few days, at least :)

It is true, I have had one or two (or three or four :D) experiences involving my being spanked in front of one or a few more people, but nothing quite like this, and, of course, never before with the eminently enchanting Miss Pink :D And as many times as I may find myself in this kind of compromising position, it never loses its charm -- I am always, without fail, possessed with the paradoxically-intoxicating idea of another party's presence, whether it be an innocently bystanding third party, or an immediately participatory partner in crime.

Miss Pink turned out to be an excellent partner, as I had known she would. :D She wasted no time enhancing my experience over her Dom's knee with strategically placed commentary and an obvious excitement...

An excitement which continued to grow as the evening progressed, from amazing to fantastic, and beyond :D

(Painting: Mary Cassatt, Two Women Throwing Flowers, 1872)

Strapped Amongst the Trees

Have you ever been spanked outside?

I can now say, proudly blushing, that I have. :D

Walking peacefully through the trees of my partner's 4-acre nature-full property, little did I know (yeah right :D) that once we'd reached a safely semi-secluded lightly-forested area, he would lean me up against the trunk of a pleasantly surprised nearby tree, remove his belt, and lay heartily into my jeans... *blush*

With all of mother nature around us to see and hear, and yet under the blessed sanctity of trees (and not to mention the added buffer of private property), we were able to experience just the right amount of outdoor thrill without worrying about shocking the neighbors :D

Granted, I wasn't quite ready to give up quite as much privacy as the lovely lady in this provocative photo (courtesy of firmhandspankings.com) -- but it would have been just as hard to disguise the strapping as something benign (oh, he's just beating the dirt off my butt from when we were just sitting on the ground a moment ago...) whether my jeans were up or down... Either way, I think it would have been pretty obvious that something fishy was going on... : )

Maybe next time, now that I can count this as a successful semi-public outdoor spanking experience, I'll have a little more confidence in the idea of dropping my jeans... :D :)

Partner in Crime

Sometimes, it can be a little overwhelming to step into new or slightly stressful situations alone... : ) especially if you are a shy spankee, and happen to be stepping into a situation which involves anything at all to do with spanking, or overcoming shyness, or managing mischief in hopes of getting caught, etc...

Not to mention, having the company of a partner in crime (aka innocence) always makes for an enjoyable experience, for all parties involved.

You can stick together and offer helpful defenses for questionable behavior, or choose instead to playfully throw each other under the bus, so to speak... :D You can offer and receive comfort or encouragement -- you can hold hands and take your spanking together, or standby each in turn to show your support by watching, perhaps commenting, perhaps mentioning how much you can see, or how hard (or, if you're feeling mischievous, how light) you think your poor friend's spanking seems to be...) ;D

(Artwork by Igor & Andre, not linking to avoid unwittingly shocking the alluring artists)

All-in-all, I think it would be a very special experience to share these kinds of endeavors with a like-minded "partner in crime."

The presence of a friend who is willing to share such kinky adventures also tends to help you both ease into potentially daring activities, which might be infinitely more difficult to undertake as a single entity, unaided and out on a limb...

Take, for example, the lovely pair below -- how sweet of them to offer each other such support :D I know that I would definitely appreciate a friend's help, if I happened to find myself in a similarly compromising situation... wouldn't you? : )

"I See a Rayne Butt!"

This past weekend, I had the pleasure of attending the second edition of a newer BDSM event in the area -- I'd been to the first one, which constituted my first public event, and it was a blast :D The second one turned out to be just as wonderful! :D

After a day of BDSM-related classes, stimulating discussions, and a lovely event-wide dinner, the evening play-party began. I found myself in a pair of over-the-knee stockings topped with pink ribbon, a shorter-than-usual black skirt, heels, and a tight, black, low-cut top.

I was being proudly paraded around with both hands cuffed together and attached to a lead in front of me. :) My captor and I discovered, through the course of the night, that whenever he had to attend to something that required his leaving me where I was for a few moments, I felt infinitely less alone when he took an extra second to tie or otherwise attach his end of the lead to some inanimate object while he was away. Somehow, even though in most cases I could easily have freed myself if I needed to, it left a solid vestige of him there next to me, even while his true presence wasn't fully there. Only in friendly BDSM circles, such as the one at this party, would this gesture be seen as romantic, rather than as an outrageous comparison to some kind of chattel. :D

As the play party warmed up, my shyness began fading accordingly, and I could feel even the tenseness in my body loosening up. I'm sure my partner could sense this, too, because it wasn't long into the evening before I found myself over his knee in the middle of the downstairs play/lounge area. *blush*

It was at the playful coaxing of a fellow subbie friend, who happened to be sitting right next to us, and into whose lap my head ended up once I'd been over-turned... My skirt, too short to cover me anyway in this position, came up, and I could feel his hand caressing my skin, warming me a little before he started... :D When I am exceedingly (and yet pleasantly) embarrassed, I can't stop smiling. It's a personality trait that has gotten me in 'trouble' a few times, and this time was no exception -- "She's giggling!" my friend exclaimed playfully, before suggesting to my partner that he must need to spank me harder if I'm enjoying it so much...

The playful banter between the two of them with my head in her lap and up-turned derriere in his was enough to make me even more embarrassed, which only encouraged them both... :D

Then, to top it all off, one of my other subbie friends happened to walk by and notice my predicament, to which she pointed and cheered happily to the room at large, "I see a Rayne butt!" My face must have flushed beet red. :D

It wasn't just a short session, either -- no, my partner had me there for at least a few minutes, using both his hand and other implements, regardless of how many kinky pairs of eyes were upon us at any given time... : ) When he finally let me up to perch on his lap, flushed, smiling, and trying to hide my face, I accidentally made eye contact with the couple who'd been sitting directly opposite us the whole time... They both smiled knowingly at me, before I buried my face in his chest and he and my girlfriend next to me chuckled over my antics...

What a very lovely way to kick off an evening of fun :D Thank you both! *Hugs and Kisses!!*

Spanked at the Dining Room Table

Being turned over someone's knee in the drawing room, or the bedroom, or the study, or some other more privately domestic location is one thing... but to experience such humiliation in the dining room?! Right in between the kitchen and the sitting room?! Not only that, but with the rest of house sitting right there around the table...! This was a new experience for me :D

Let me set the scene.

I was hanging out with some kinky friends, we'll call them Diane, Melanie, Tim, Sean, and Paul. If I hadn't been there, Tim would have been the youngest. We were all chatting around the dining room table one night, quite innocently.

Innocently, that is, until Paul left for a moment and decided to come back with a leather strap. :-0 (Paul and I have a kind of teacher/student dynamic going on...)

With Sean, Melanie, Diane, and Tim watching, he pulled his chair back from the table a bit and, to my surprise, guided me over his lap. He started spanking me over my jeans, to the chuckling delight of the table -- after about 45 seconds, Paul thought it prudent to have me start counting. :D

I counted to about 10, I think, before Sean decided to chime in, "I don't think she's doing that right, Paul... Isn't she supposed to say, 'One, Professor, two, Professor...' like that? I think you should make her start over..." Although I couldn't see his face from my vulnerable position up-turned over Paul's knees, the wide grin was apparent in the sound of his voice. The rest of the table, wise and worldly as a panel of elders, agreed quite heartily with Sean's sentiments.

At this point Tim made an astute observation, commenting about the idea of "starting a spanking over," as if the soreness and redness of the previous part of the spanking will just disappear and the spankee will have a "fresh start..." But, then, that's the beauty of the threat, isn't it? It's not hurting the spanker's hand any more to "start over" -- they could be at it all day without a problem!

This led to a wee bit of lovely conversation while I dangled bottom-up over Paul's lap, which somehow led to everyone finding out that I can speak multiple languages. How this happened, I have no idea... Thus is the tumultuous nature of late-night conversation...

In any case, this new-found knowledge sprouted another bout of kinky commentary, this time regarding the idea that I should count in another language. I confessed to knowing Japanese, and in fact even knowing how to say "Professor" in Japanese, which started us back off again with Paul spanking me, and me counting.

(Just between you and me, I fibbed a bit, saying I only knew how to count up to ten in Japanese... but that's because at the time I wasn't sure I would remember more, not because I wanted fewer spanks...) :D

"Ichi, Sensei," I started, "Ni, Sensei," and so on, up to ten... And then!! As if we hadn't had enough participation from the peanut gallery :D:D Melanie spoke up and mentioned that the tradition was to give me "one to grow on" after the originally allotted number. So Paul landed another, and I thought for a split second before eeking out a tentative, "Ju-Ichi? Sensei..."

Diane promptly added, "And one for good luck!"

"Ju-Ni!" :D Goodness!

I didn't know that getting spanked at the dinner table could be such a fun participatory event! :D

Backseat Spanking

Back after a two-month hiatus! I should be spanked for such lackadaisical blog up-keep... :D just a suggestion...

Speaking of which, I had a fun time driving a friend to the airport recently... A spanko friend, of course :D Unfortunately we didn't get any time to play while he was in town this time, but I was able to drive him to his flight home...

Once we got to the 'picking up and dropping off' area right outside the airport (you know, the place where you can only stay for like 30 seconds before a stampede of guards comes rampaging over to you like you're going to set off a bomb...) -- Once we got there, I got out of the car, naturally, to help him get his bags out of the backseat. Alright, I suppose maybe that wasn't the only reason I got out... :D

After he'd revved me up, so to speak, during the drive over with hot and steamy talk of spanking, I suppose he just couldn't resist... Right there in front of the airport, people and all, he took the opportunity to bend me over the backseat of my own car from the outside. "Just pretend you're looking for something, that's it..."

He then proceeded to land three, HARD, swats over my jeans... Seriously, I had forgotten that he could swing that hard, I felt all three through my entire body... He then helped me stand back up straight, my face bright red, saying, "Did you find it?" :P!!

Needless to say, I was INCREDIBLY distracted on the way home... Good thing I could concentrate, just barely, on not crashing my car, or I might have had to deal with some burly young police-man, too...! :D

Hope everyone had a wonderful holiday season and Happy New Year!

Birthday Fun :)

How much fun are kinky birthday parties!? :D Well, let me highlight a few aspects, and you can decide for yourselves...! : )

Firstly, we kicked off the kinky part of the evening with me over the birthday boy's (man's) knee, taking his spanking. The whole party's attendance was lifestyle friendly, and *all* of them were watching. Not just sitting around nearby chatting, but actively participating -- *counting* for him, none-the-less. You would have been able to tell who held what sentiments in the room: all of the submissives/spankees were trying to raise their voices over the dominants/spankers, who were trying to count like, "1... 1... 1... 2... 2... 2... 2... 3... 3..." or else starting in rounds so that when half of the room got to count 5, the other half would try to start over again at 1... :D Luckily (or unluckily?) the subbies were able to stay on track and I did end up with the correct number, plus one to grow on (even though it wasn't *my* birthday!).

Definitely luckily (and *not* unluckily), I was allowed to keep my clothes on *phew!* Because in that kind of crowd (at least 12 other people), even though they were all kinky, I would have been absolutely mortified to be wearing anything less... I was in pink shorts with the name of my school screen-printed across the seat -- the only piece of clothing I own with writing across the butt like that -- I've always been self-conscious about drawing that kind of attention... :P

I was over his lap with my hands clutching the leg of the chair and his thigh, and both of my feet off the ground, knees bent. He was in a straight-backed, armless chair smack in the middle of the room *blush* I could see people out of the corner of my eye arranging themselves to get a better view... He used a wood-enforced leather strap -- quite pliable but still stingy and thuddy at the same time... :D

Because of the company, you can imagine that I wasn't the only one to receive his birthday spanking...!! : )

After he finished with me, and I slipped off his lap, kneeling beside him with my face buried in his thigh while the room clapped and cheered, another girl's name was called out as the rightful recipient of a second spanking. Although she had experienced a great many different kinds of implements and chains and benches and levels of pain that I can only imagine, she'd never had an over-the-knee spanking before, so her mixed apprehension and curiosity were quite apparent to the room. As she and others had done for me, I struggled to keep my counting voice above those who would cause her to get far more than the allotted number of spanks, and just as good always triumphs over evil, we won in the end :D

The rest of the night was full of kinky fun, but that's a story for another day...!

Be well and happy spanks! :D

Before Your Eyes!

Last Saturday, I went to my second public bdsm-related event, with a couple of new friends. This time it was more like one big warehouse, rather than a house with separate floors... and it was a lot of fun! Again, so many nice, caring, welcoming people -- lots of scary-looking equipment to play on, but nothing that anyone was going to force me into doing if I didn't feel comfortable.

I did, however, end up over someone's lap.

In plain view of everyone else, right out in the open... I went there willingly (but not without hesitation, out of simple shyness and intense embarrassment), and stayed there quite willingly after he really got started... Since this was my first really public (counting 'public' as kinky public, not vanilla public :D) spanking, with more than three other people able to watch and hear perfectly well (I'd say well over 20 people, actually)... he was nice enough to ask me, "Do you mind if I lift your dress?"

Of course I did! But, then, I didn't... So he did :D

I can't explain it, but somehow, being in that position, with nothing to look at but the floor and the legs of the chair and his ankles, knowing that I'm completely vulnerable and with a certain part of my anatomy in pretty much full view of anyone who cared to look (thank GOD we were only around other kinky people!)... It's mesmerizing :D

Needless to say, I had a fabulous time, and wouldn't mind one bit if another opportunistic lap happened to invite me over (as long as we're not out in the daily public, where police might be called in by innocent bystanders!) :-P

Yay! \(^v^)/ What fun! :D

Exhibitionism

As is typical during the long evenings I spend alone, studying, researching graduate schools, job searching, etc... Often my online ventures will stray into slightly less productive but highly entertaining and much more fulfilling activities...

One such venture led me to the picture above last night, which set me off right away. :D

I'd like to go through the more specific elements of this find that particularly affected me -- please feel free to add your own thoughts on the matter! :)

#1: (in no particular order) The Classroom Setting
Not only is it in a public rather than private sphere (even if the classroom is empty), but it allows for an automatic positioning of two distinct and specified roles: an authority and a non-authority. Many different kinds of scenes do this. :D I particularly fall for the school/classroom settings because those were my original fantasies, when any other setting for spanking or corporal punishment (that wasn't parental) simply wasn't yet conceivable to my very young and inquisitive mind. Of course, those original daydreams were taking place in private Headmasters' studies or offices, not in open classrooms as is shown here... :D

#2: She's Smiling
Yes, fine, it's unrealistic, because I know full well that if I were in her position, particularly having to face that ruler, I wouldn't be smiling quite like that. But it's pretend :D And it does let me know that she is, in fact, somewhere deep down, enjoying herself, and that helps very much to take away the scary/disappointing/downer aspects of a punishment scene. It's playful (despite his rather serious expression), and as such can be taken with a lighter heart and a brighter attitude.

#3: Realistic Age Gap
The artist here definitely made efforts to illustrate a certain age difference between the teacher and student -- yet not to an exaggerated amount (don't get me wrong, I will go for exaggerated age difference, as well :D). For me personally, in fantasy worlds, my authoritarians are always older -- at least older than I am. And, realistically, in a teacher-student relationship at the high school level, at least a few years should have transpired between the two roles. There's something about an older man that I just find irresistibly attractive -- not to say that a younger man wouldn't catch my eye if he had the characteristics for which I were looking, but something about him being older just makes it easier, I suppose :D

#4: Exhibitionism
Now, this is the tricky one, for me. I'm very shy. I'm a very private person. But if I had to pick one thing about this picture that really got me, it would be the fact that she is bare, and bent forward over the front of his desk with her back to the rest of the (empty or not) classroom (even if that is his own desk chair and not a classroom chair behind her, which it could be, we'll just pretend that his chair is actually out of view on the side closest to us). It has me shivering, and my heart gallivanting... He is lifting her skirt, she can feel the cool air on her bare skin, and it's day-time in a semi-public place... WHY is that so enrapturing?? :D There is a fine line here which I am always so wary of crossing -- between good, clean, highly arousing fun, and absolute mortification... In the realm of fantasy, I'm always safe... But translating this into real life always constitutes a sticky situation for me... in more ways that one... :)