Canes of Antiquity

During a most welcome and lovely visit to my home town, MrA and I stumbled upon a quaint little antique store, where, quite unexpectedly, we were able to acquire some particularly intriguing items.

These treasures of antiquity were my ever-incorrigible partner's discovery. At the time, we were shopping with family members, so a certain (aka HIGH) level of discretion was required. I was innocently gazing at some lovely brass figurines near the front of the store when he came up and whispered in my ear, "Go to the back, turn left, walk down to the end of the hall, and see what you find hanging from the B--- sign."

Immediately I knew it couldn't be anything good.

Hanging? My first dreaded guess as I picked my way through the shop was some sort of evil strap... Maybe even a tawse... Some form of heavy old cracked well-worn perfectly authentic leather just resting serenely upon the wall of this ancient place.

Alas, perhaps another shop, another day :D

When I arrived at the end of MrA's cryptic verbal treasure map, what I found instead was even worse: four long, slim, whippy, crook-handled canes, hooked over the side of an old sign. They had been deliberately plucked from a basket of all sorts of other long, whippy-looking evil things -- the only four crook-handled canes in the whole bundle.


I handled them carefully, discovering that, while appearing spindly and quite thin, they retained quite an astonishing amount of strength and suppleness.

Needless to say, before we left town, MrA and I took the opportunity to make one pit-stop and purchase four new additions to our growing collection of implements. After a good hardy bath in rubbing alcohol, each one will undergo a thorough treatment regimen with mineral oil, to re-hydrate what is obviously some very old wood (or rattan? we are not quite sure what they are made of...), and smooth out any rough edges.

Playing with them will require some careful measures, but really, I think MrA liked them more for show. They have a very appealing visual aesthetic :D I am sure they will get more looks than uses... :D:D But in any case, I will be sure to keep you informed as to their progress in our hands!

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

Double Take License Plate

While driving back from dropping a friend off at the airport yesterday, I happened to notice a rather unique license plate out of the corner of my eye. In that brief moment, it looked a little something like this:


It was enough to make me want to look again, just to make sure :D

Of course, I was speeding along at a pretty brisk clip on the highway, and didn't have too much time to look closely, so perhaps I really did see it -- and perhaps my mind was simply perving someone's innocent three-letter license plate without my permission...

In any case, it was a nice surprise :D

Imagine if, instead, it had been something more like this...


I think I would have found myself trying to explain to my family how I had managed to lose control and crash the car on a perfectly clear, sunny winter day with no other complications in sight... :)

All Hallow's Eve!

Happy Halloween everyone!

On this particular festive occasion, I am inclined to zero in on one small facet of the Halloween-scene... :D













That's right! Vampires! No, nothing to do with glittering Edwards or Forks at Twilight -- no no no. :) My inspiration stems entirely from another Hallow's Eve-worthy cinematic source... Namely: Interview with the Vampire, based on the book of the same title by Anne Rice, starring Brad Pitt, Tom Cruise, and Kirsten Dunst, along with a lovely little bit of Antonio Banderas -- Yum!

While most of the film is rather dark, dank, and sinister, as one might typically expect vampiric depictions to be, the poise, timeless knowledge, Victorian style, and confident decorum of the three main characters speaks very much to my fantasy-forming imagination :)


Rather than launching into a thorough breakdown of the entire plot, thus negating the possibility of any of you actually going to see the movie for yourselves, I will provide some brief background knowledge and then highlight the one particular moment that led me to feature this particular film here this Halloween, for reasons that will soon become clear. :)

Claudia, the little girl in the picture above, was a young child when Lestat (far right) made her into a vampire. Lestat also made Louis (left, near Claudia) a vampire -- but Louis, a humanitarian, struggled tremendously with the cold hard fact that he must kill people in order to survive himself as a vampire. Basically, Lestat, distant and self-absorbed, treats Claudia as a prized pupil, while Louis, full of moral fiber, and who lost his wife and child before becoming a vampire, thinks of Claudia almost as his second chance at raising a daughter.

Kinkify-able Theme #1: Two 18th-(to early 19th)-century men of principle, one something of a tutor, one something of a father, taking on the responsibility of rearing a young female charge.

As Claudia grows in experience and intellectual prowess, but not in physical appearance (as a vampire, she is forever bound into her current physical state), she begins to resent the fact that she's been made into an immortal child-doll, never able to grow into womanhood. She loves Louis, her father figure, too much to remain angry with him, but instead lets this rage loose on Lestat, constructing a scheme to kill him. As you may know, however, it is very difficult to kill a vampire.

Kinkify-able Theme #2: Our young heroine, as she comes of age, lashes out in rebellion at the male authority figures in her life (albeit a little more viciously than may be typical), therefore warranting certain disciplinary action.

The scheme backfires, and one night Lestat, gaunt and filthy from trying to eek out a living in the Mississippi river where Claudia and Louis had dumped him, appears again in their home. The two of them discover Lestat creepily sitting at the piano by the window, playing a tune that he had been teaching Claudia to play during happier times. After explaining how he "came back to life," Lestat looks directly at Claudia, and says, emphasizing each word:

"Claudia, you've been, a very, very, naughty, little girl--" and then he immediately springs from behind the piano toward the retreating pair, in a very scary moment of vengeful pursuit.

Kinkify-able Theme #3: Well, this one's obvious... :D

Of course it was this line that struck a chord in me when I first saw the film :D I happened to be watching the movie with a very vanilla friend, which made the moment all the more secretly heated for me... Personally I would have much rather imagined Louis, the compassionate father-figure, uttering such a juicy line, but as it is, it still incites quite an effect... :D

I have been able to find most of this moment captured online for your viewing pleasure if you would care to see it -- unfortunately the closest version I've been able to find cuts out right before Lestat finishes with the word "girl," but since you know what he says, you can imagine the word, or perhaps it's even better this way because it leaves you free to imagine your own final word! Just overlook the fact that he's recently spent a considerable amount of time wallowing around in a river and therefore looks rather distasteful at this particular moment... lol

Even just the fact that this line exists in a movie of rather main-stream capacity is enough for me to fully appreciate it, despite any small imperfections... :)

Here it is: Interview with the Vampire: clip from Warner Bros.

Busted!

So as any doting parent would, my loving mother wanted so very much to help me pack up for my recent move. It was a big one, after-all, moving across country for the longest projected stretch that I'd ever been outside of my home state -- naturally I would be bringing along quite a load of cargo, and would of course, in her mind, appreciate any and all help she could offer.

Of course, this posed a certain dilemma to my kinky self -- sure, it would be nice to have her help, and appease some of her 'eldest child leaving the nest' syndrome, but how would I be sure that something terrifyingly kinky wouldn't pop up unexpectedly while we scoured through my belongings together?

I resolved to simply do an initial scouring myself, purging my room of anything remotely kinky (thongs, skirts, implements, vibrators, shoes far more fetish-y than would have been considered normal, fetish-related books, etc...) BEFORE she arrived to help me pack up the rest. I put everything I didn't want her to see into an opaque tub, with a snap-shut lid, placed it outside my bedroom door, and piled a bunch of other miscellaneous unimportant heavy things on top of and around it. The safest way I could think of to shield my particularly deviant interests from the one person in my life I would be most unwilling to share them with... :)

So, my mother came to town, and we set to work, going inch-by-inch through my room-full of belongings, deciding what I would take with me, what I could discard, and what she would take back with her to put in storage in my old room at her house, etc...

I knew that I'd put a lot of things I wouldn't need, and hadn't used all year, in the bottom of my closet, so I encouraged her to start going through that while I was looking through some old papers, deciding what was important enough to file away. She pulled out old books, a stuffed animal or two, stored materials for miscellaneous projects long since abandoned, and then, a plastic bag.

I didn't think twice about the bag, absorbed as I was in my stack of papers on the other side of my room, until my mother began unraveling it. Slowly, very slowly, as she quickly peeled away layers of plastic bag, I began to see more clearly what had been packed away inside. It was black, thin, and maybe a little over a foot long.

...[[insert an ineffable moment of intense panic here]]...

She finished unraveling, and out of the bag, into her hand, landed a black leather strap.

This black leather strap, to be precise...


Which is actually one of the meanest-looking implements I own, if in fact one of the least menacing in actuality...

How did I handle this inopportune situation? My fellow spankos -- I was so proud of myself!

Without missing a beat, as she turned to look up at me with the strap in her hand, I assumed a completely non-plussed, nonchalant expression and turned back to my papers as if nothing out of ordinary had happened, and intoned quite emotionless-ly, "Well, you can see why that was packed away under everything and completely forgotten..."

It had, in fact, been forgotten, although not for the reasons that I was implying.

She shrugged, quite innocently believing me, rolled it back up in the plastic bag, set it down, and went back to removing old belongings from the mysterious depths of my closet. I breathed, praying that nothing else of the kind would show up, and neither of us has mentioned the brief incident since! (*touch wood*)

By goodness, though, was that a scare. :D You can imagine where my heart jumped to in that instant -- I still get shivers just thinking about how much worse that could have been... *Phew!!*

At least I know that I will have the ability to handle it grandly, should there ever come another situation where I may feel just as unequivocally "busted" in the future... :D

Kinky Gaga

If anyone has ever seen the fabulous show America's Best Dance Crew (ABDC), you may recognize this clip:

ABDC's Bluprint Cru: Lady Gaga Challenge



It's a Canadian group (I know... "America's?"), called Blueprint Cru, performing their Lady Gaga challenge to "Bad Romance" : )

They surprised me, too, when I watched the debut performance in the living room with my housemates! :P

I've always thought that Lady Gaga seemed to exhibit rather dark and dangerous motifs... And she's definitely not the only popstar to do so, either :D This rendition of Bad Romance taps very deeply and I think accurately into the turbulent, morbid decadence under-pinning not only this song, but a lot of miss Gaga's work.

While this clip is quite devoid of spanking, the overall BDSM and kink-tastic themes are quite fascinating :D

St. Trinian's School for (Bad) Girls

Has anyone ever seen this movie?!? : )

As terribly interesting as it looks, I think I have been able to discern from its IMDB description that, in fact, no wayward girl finds herself in the Headmistress's study having to bend over and lift her skirt for the cane, nor does the film seem to feature any form of corporal punishment whatsoever... (for if it did, would that not be one of the very first plot-points mentioned in its description??) :D

But isn't it fun to pretend, anyway...?

By the way, never have I ever fantasized about being spanked by Colin Firth... I swear :D

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

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. :)

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

Spare the Rod... Spoil the Fun :D

Whiling away the hours at work can be a rather taxing activity... So, when the opportunity presents itself to entertain a lively spark of fantasy or intellectual fervor, naturally, I jump on it :D

Most of the time, I find myself near the front of the store where I work, running register (if anyone has ever worked in westernized retail, they will know what this entails, and thus the long spells of boredom which inevitably ensue...) On one particular day in the recent past, there happened to be a long, light-weight metal rod sitting serenely behind the customer service desk, in clear view from my perch behind the register. The rod was about an inch in diameter, made out of a combination of very thin metal and plastic, and about, hmmmm, I would say four feet long. Maybe three feet. Somewhere around the vicinity of a yardstick. :D

This alone, the mere existence of the rod itself, should have been enough to start my mind running in many lovely directions, which in fact it did quite well. But, lo-and-behold, here come the gentlemen with whom I work, and each in turn wants to test his strength with an attempt to bend this curious rod behind customer service -- what a display for the pretty lady standing nearby trying to find ways to occupy herself!

(Image courtesy of: Andevan Bronzeworks)

I watched, my face slowly reddening, as the young male employees of the store came up one-by-one to pick up the rod, some two-handed, some single-handed... swing it around in the air a bit, comment flippantly on what it would feel like to hit or be hit with it, make a joke or two about chasing annoying customers out with it, and then finally try to bend it one way or another.

The rod proved to be quite deceivingly durable -- as none of the able young men could get it to budge more than about half an inch in either direction, despite it having been warmed up by previous contenders...

I imagined quite a different and much less work-appropriate competition going on at the front of our store that day... involving that same innocuous metal rod and quite another set of skills entirely... :D

PlayDom?

I found this image one day recently, while flipping through the most innocuous of magazines... (Playboy :D) Needless to say, it took me aback -- mass media mags (even one so innocent and family-rated as Playboy) don't typically feature themes related to kink (and I really mean kink, here, not sex: the difference being sex is pretty mainstream, while kink decidedly isn't... yet...)



Granted, we have very little (aka no) spanking involved here, but the D/s element is unmistakable. And, as Playboy is like to do, the sexualized Dominant/submissive theme here is being utilized as merely a ploy for advertising (the text on the upper right corner reads: "Classic Look of the Month: Dressed to Kill"... :P "Dressed to Spank" is more like it...) Okay, perhaps it's a bit for entertainment, too, but that's what makes the advert so appealing... :D

It seems we've also rather jumped backward in time a bit, here, perhaps to make the red-dress-clad woman on the ground clinging to the gentleman's leg, and his holding her head back by her curly blonde hair, more 'acceptable' as a time-encapsulated 1940s-1950s Hollywood swooning fantasy moment.

In any case, it's a lovely, sultry, eye-(and mind-)catching image, and I wanted to share it here with you... Not as much spanking as perhaps an idea of one of the many possible relationships that could exist behind and within the delightful adult activity... :D (Not to mention I almost melted when I turned the page and laid eyes on it...)

Oh, and Dear Playboy:
More kink, please?! Pretty please with a lovely pin-up model on top? Judging by the above, it seems like you have the makings to be really good at it...!

Studded Leather

The joys and woes of living with housemates will be known by many. Personally, I enjoy being around people enough that the joys have by far outweighed the woes (*knock on wood*) in most of my living situations. :D People are very effective sources of entertainment, when you know where to look *big grin*

Take last night, for example.

Housemate A, we'll call him John, was sitting on the couch with his computer in his lap (the only PC user in the house), and the TV on. Now John, as it happens, *knows* about my kink, and is gracious enough to respect my wishes for discreetness, even though he can be a tad playfully suggestive at times (which is quite entertaining for me, as you can imagine... :D).

Sitting next to John was Housemate B, we'll call her Mary, and standing behind the couch was Housemate C, we'll call him Dave.

One of Mary's belts happened to be slung over the back of the couch -- a 1.5", black, fo-leather, silver-studded one. Dave noticed it and picked it up, musing, "Hey, this belt has studs on it... that could really hurt people..."

I'm starting to turn red already.

But it doesn't stop there! "Let's see how much it hurts," exclaims Dave, and proceeds to double the belt over and start whapping his own upper thigh with it, quite hard.

John, from his position on the couch, grins and decides to chime in, "You should try in on Rayne. That might be more effective..." I happen to be passing by on my way into the kitchen at this moment, and reply with a fake-indignant, "Hey!!" even though Dave doesn't take John's advice, and continues whacking his leg instead.

"It doesn't hurt." Dave sounds rather disappointed.

"You're wearing jeans--that nullifies half the pain right there--" I'm relieved that he doesn't seem to find my knowledge on the subject odd or telling. Once I'm safely in the kitchen, I call out, "You should take your pants off!"

Sadly, Dave's sense of propriety remains true, and when I come back to the living room his pants are still safely on, and the belt placed neatly back over the back of the couch, at Mary's protesting, "You're gonna break my belt!"

I couldn't refrain from 'accidentally' knocking John in the back of the head (lightly!) as I went back to my seat, and he chuckled, but said no more.

Yay kinky surprises in a vanilla household! :P

Spilt Milk...

If anyone else has seen the intriguing newer musical called Spring Awakening, you will already have an inkling as to what I'm about to highlight... :D

Little did I know, sitting in the live audience between a parent and a sibling, that such a lovely-heated-embarrassing-discomfort would be running through my entire body during certain parts of the show -- and more than just one scene, too! I must have turned bright red at least twice -- good thing my fellow show-goers were all too engrossed in the stage action to notice... : ) The musical is overall a very serious and thought-provoking experience, though, and well worth seeing, for reasons far beyond its kink-value.

But for now, I will limit my comments to the particular flavor that some of Spring Awakening adds to our common interests here... :D

The part that really started me going (imagining a much less serious, much more PC, much more playful alternative version), began with the main female character (Wendla) explaining to the main male character (Melchior), that she'd been day-dreaming by the stream all morning. What was she day-dreaming about? Funnily enough, she proceeded to describe a day-dream that happened to be uncannily similar to some of my own day-dreams... *blush*

"I dreamt I was a clumsy little girl who spilt my father's milk--" (or coffee, depending on the version you see) "--and when he saw what I'd done, he took off his belt--" (or yanked it off, again depending :D) "--and whipped me with it."

*shiver*

Goodness gracious I got so hot when she admitted that. :D She then went on to explain to Melchior how she herself had never been 'beaten,' and wanted so much to know what it felt like. He, needless to say, was rather astonished, but this didn't stop Wendla from noticing a conveniently-placed switch on the ground, picking it up, and musing, "With this stick, for example, so tough, and thin..."

When she turns to Melchior and holds out the stick, asking him to hit her with it, the poor boy becomes thoroughly surprised and confused -- hit a girl?? With a stick? He tries to tell her that she's being ridiculous, that he would never do such a thing, but she persists:

"Even if I let you? Even if I asked you to?? ... Please!?"

Finally, he relents. But he doesn't just relent -- after an experimental strike to her backside through her dress, he seems to assume a rather dominating air, grabs her upper arm, and says, "I'll teach you to say 'please...'" before continuing with the switch... Depending upon the acting skills of the young man playing Melchior in the version you see, he may assume a rather deliciously low and quietly intense voice as he says this... MMMmmm :D

After that, the actual scene develops into some less-than-yummy scariness, but thought-provoking none-the-less, and for the purpose of creating individual fantasies, this single scene provides a nice chunk of 'mmmmm' material :D

If you haven't seen the musical, I would highly recommend it, and not only to see this particular part, but to really see a creative, deeply moving, innovative and intellectually challenging show : ) Go with a mind wide open! : )

Namaste and safe journeys :D

Ludacris is Spanking?

As many spankos/kinksters will empathize, sometimes everyday vanilla life will throw an exhilarating kink into the mix of the lovely mundane, and immediately I will latch on to it with a "WAIT. OMG. Did that just happen??"

Life comes to a screeching halt for two milliseconds as the burgeoning excitement/embarrassment/arousal/surprise begins to rise in my chest, and I have to push the 'instant replay' button in my mind to make sure I didn't just unconsciously kinkify something vanilla on my own.

One of these gift-like moments rolled over me one day as I was listening to the radio in the car, driving down the road. I listen to all kinds of music (ok, well, most kinds...), so before you judge, the radio happened to be on the hip-hop/R&B station, and a newer song by T-Pain, featuring Ludacris, came on. Now, we won't be getting into any of the rather misogynistic underpinnings (and sometimes overpinnings) of certain kinds of music here, because that is a-whole-nother important discussion and deserves its own space. I would like to choose, for the time being, as I did when I first heard the song, not to over-analyze into realms of gender relations in American pop culture and all of that very serious business, but instead to simply bask in the lovely opportunities for kinky imagination that this moment brought about for me, personally, which I would like to share with you.

Somewhere more than half-way through the song, Ludacris breaks out and does his bit, and it goes a little something like this:

"...Put you over my knee, put you on punishment, woman, and I'll spank ya..."

I nearly jumped out of my skin when I heard that. "You'll do WHAT??? Can you say that again, please?? Can I call you on that -- I don't think you would really do it -- could you show me?"

Naturally, I had to get the name of the song and then promptly go to YouTube as soon as I returned home to look up the music video... Unfortunately, none of said kinkiness actually takes place in the video (sad day!), but if you'd like to hear the song for yourself, it's "Chopped 'N Screwed" by T-Pain. Have tons of fun :D

Any other songs out there with kink-potential that people have happened upon in the past? It's always nice to have a 'secretly-kinky' playlist on one's portable music player for use when times get tough... :D