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!

Countdown Caning

So all of you (you know who you are!) who have been dropping hints either subtly or unsubtly, directly or indirectly, that MrA should have so much fun caning me over the next few weeks before the swiftly approaching Spanking Weekend in the Mountains, so that by the time we get there to see all of you, his ability to cane anyone will be all worn out -- (xoxo love you guys :D, but) I will have you know, MrA is taking you quite seriously!

I've never been caned so often in my life!

(Not a very big jump, there, as I've never been spanked so often in my life either, before moving in with a spanko...) :D

Just recently, in fact, we both discovered a new "game" to have fun with the cane -- really, one could use any implement, I suppose, but somehow the alliteration of "Countdown Caning" just sounds so perfect :D

We have tried out this novel new idea more than once now, and loved it every time!

Here's how it goes:

After each stroke of the cane, you do a countdown. The trick is, with each successive stroke, the countdown gets shorter. So say, for example, you want to start the countdown at 10 -- it would look (sound) something like this:

WHACK

"Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one--"

WHACK

"Nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one--"

WHACK

"Eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one--"

ETC...

Do you see how it could become terribly exciting very quickly? :D:D The countdown continues to shorten, so that by the time you get down to:

WHACK
"Three, two, one--"
WHACK
"Two, one--"
WHACK
"One--"
WHACK!

Each stroke is coming so much faster each time!

But you've already been "warmed up" with the slower ones in the beginning, so mostly what it does is get your adrenaline going, rather than hurt more (although it does hurt just a little bit more :D:D).

Fun fun fun :D I'm sure that MrA will be happy and willing to teach the countdown caning game to anyone interested in playing :):) Just as long as you don't ask for a demonstration first!!

:D:D Happy spanks!!

Guest Post from MrA: New Spanking Game

I am very pleased to announce that my partner -- who comments here as Arthur, but who many of you know as Mr A -- has graced Mischief Managed with a guest post! He is eager to tell you all about a new spanking game we recently devised together -- involving a pair of dice, and a multitude of implements!

Soon, he will be starting his own blog, where he will be sharing his thoughts on spanking as someone from the giving end -- as well as a fair dose of his very own spanking-inspired creativity :D Check back here very soon for a link to begin reading more from Mr A!

Meanwhile, please enjoy his stirring account of our new game -- and let us know what you think! :D:D

Hello Rayne’s Dear Readers!

I can’t think of a better place to introduce our newly contrived game, than a blog named “Mischief Managed”. What a perfect way to describe a game which blends the very reason we all find ourselves on this blog together...

1. Spanking

2. Implements

3. Anticipation

4. More Spanking

Before launching in to the rules, lets cover a bit of the background which resulted in this ingenious game.

As you readers know, recently myself and Rayne have embarked on a journey of partnership, friendship, love, commitment, and yes, spanking. And with each passing day, we find validation in our choice to embark on this journey. Mind you, we are human; flesh, blood, emotion, faults and complexities which need to be navigated. As such, we quickly realized that we would have to find (many) ways by which to keep the spanking aspect of our relationship fresh and exciting. It would be a curse if ever we fall in to the vanilla trap of monotony given how much we embrace and cherish our mutual love of spanking.

So, with this in mind, I knew we would always be mindful in our communication as we progressed in our journey. However, I confess that this whole idea of a spanking game was nowhere pre-conceived in either of our minds. Rather, it was an explosion born out of the realization that our combined cadre of implements and desires had already reached a point which would pose to us a challenge much different than monotony...!

In anticipation of a forth coming “play date”, we found ourselves postulating and trying to figure out which implement(s) might be called in to service. For those of you who know me, yes,...my mind went to one of many hairbrush choices. However, for Rayne, her mind was most assuredly on something comprised of leather or flesh. Finding ourselves at the beginning of what could have been an impasse, both our minds began playing with how we could creatively solve our dilemma before the desire escaped us.

It couldn’t have been more than just a few moments, when out came the idea of idea of adding chance to our selection. Having visited Las Vegas a few times in my life, my mind immediately thought of the craps table. Within moments, the idea of a dice-based game was born and agreed upon.

The question now was, how should this game be played? For this, the following will be a rough set of rules which we have found to our liking thus far. The beauty of this game is how flexible, fun and safe it is while allowing a true sense of uncontrollable anticipation to fill the air during actual play.

For starters, the game only needs 2 things...Dice! Two dice to be specific. Outside of this, the game is completely adaptable to any situation. For us, again, we were dealing with the dilemma of how to incorporate our cadre of implements. Hence, it seemed only natural to assign a specific dice role to an implement. Easy enough! Or so we thought until we sat down to the task moments later.

Seems that we own more than 11 implements (Dice roles can equal 2 through 12), so we found ourselves at another impasse. How do we pick which implements are in the game? Well, being a bit clever with #s, I realized that “7” could be achieved in 3 different combinations. (1x6, 2x5, 3x4) So, what if we expanded our initial 11 options to a whopping 21?

Funny enough, that was still not enough! ...and NO, I do not own 21 hairbrushes! In fact, what we discovered is that we have several different types of implements of which we own multiples: leather paddles, straps, hairbrushes, wood, etc.

(Lovely photo found on Cutiepie's Blog)

So with this realization, we set to the task of assigning a specific number, say “5” which has two possible out comes. (1x4, 2x3) Well, since there are 2 options, it seemed reasonable to pick a class of implement which we had 2 similar devices. In this case, Rayne owns a wonderfully sweet heart strap and a very pleasant black strap. With a stroke of a pen, there was our first accomplishment. A few minutes later, some minor bartering (I gave up on having all my hairbrushes as choices, she ceded that a cane could be part of the game) we had the makings of a completed game. Each combination of dice had an assigned implement.

Next question,...how should each implement be used? Great question! Being a game, it didn’t seem reasonable to have that question open ended, and having a set # just didn’t seem fun enough. Simple fix you say? Well you are right, but here we tried to over think this one a bit. The answer is quite obvious, just roll the dice again and there you go, that is how many strokes could be assigned to the implement. GREAT!!!! Well, that is until you roll a “2” which is the cane, and than a “12” for stroke count. To quote my partner,...EEEEEPPPP!!!!

(Another lovely photo, found on Devlin O'Neill and Poppy's Blog)

Ok ok, I agree, that wouldn’t work so well. Again, after a brief moment, we came to the following outcome to our newly devised game.

The roller (usually the bottom / receiver) would get to roll first for as many implements as the players intend on using. [If you can’t decide on this, just roll the dice] Once the implements are known, the roller then gets to start rolling for stroke count. The key here, is that each roll for stroke needs to be assigned to an implement. Once all implements have an assigned stroke count, well use your imagination, or check back for future accounts of how the games turned out.

A few quick thoughts as to gamesmanship.... Let the top (giver) control which sequence the implements are used in, and to what degree. It might be a game with rules, but it is a spanking game, and thus some unknown should be retained. The game isn’t about pain, after all, it is about fun and trying new things. With that, adapt the game as it makes sense. Make all odd #’s flesh (Hand) and even numbers your favorite paddle. Maybe 12 can equal an evil wood spoon, while a 7 is a free pass.

Just have fun, and please remember to comment with thoughts, opinions or recounts as to how the game worked out for you!

Regards,

MrA

Weighing Options

Remember my last new hairbrush? The red, velvety paddle brush??

Well, ladies and gentlemen, I have recently acquired aNOTHER new hairbrush! What was I thinking????

I walked innocently into a local pharmacy, looking for something else entirely, stumbled (quite accidentally! They just pop up out of nowhere in those stores!) on the hair accessories section, and was quite amazed to find, not one, but TWO lovely, weighty, broad, straight-backed prospects.

One wooden, with a very nice grip, and one fo-wooden (looks like wood but is something else), and heavier than most other hairbrushes I have ever encountered.

What was a poor spanko to do?

After carefully weighing my options (for about 2.8 seconds), I finally strode right up to the check-out counter with both in hand. The strapping young lad behind the counter must have wondered what on earth any girl in her right mind would be doing that would require TWO hairbrushes...

"Gifts..." I muttered, briefly catching his inquisitive glance and then looking down. Lame excuse, of course -- again, who in their right mind would want a hairbrush as a gift?? :D

But it seemed to satisfy him, at least superficially, because next minute I was walking to my car, two new hairbrushes dangling in a plastic bag at my side.

"Two??" you may be asking... Yes, I did say that I have one new hairbrush, not two. So what happened to the other...??

Well, dear readers, let me tell you: I thought it would be fun (what fun!) to turn my good fortune into a game with a friend I knew I would be visiting soon. It is true, I enjoy finding such perfect implements in every-day innocuous stores, but really, what on earth was I going to do with two hairbrushes? I'm not that crazy!

I immediately texted him to let him know what I had found, and that he would be receiving one, quite truthfully, as a gift -- but that it would be up to him to use whatever means necessary in order to decide which one he wanted!!

Yes, I am sure you all can tell exactly where this is going...! :D

(Lovely drawing found on All Things Spanking)

So, not more than a few days later, there I was, over his lap, while he labored over his decision, weighing his options quite judiciously!

"Hmmm..." SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! "I like this one, because it is wood, and that definitely carries a certain traditional appeal..."

SMACK! SMACK! "But this one is nice because of the weight... how does that feel?" SMACK! SMACK! "More thuddy, or stingy?"

The evil grin in his voice needs no visual confirmation. He is enjoying himself quite immensely!

"Owwww...oooh both, Sir..."

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! "Do you need a bit more comparison? Which one stings more?"
SMACK! SMACK!

"Oooh-ahh! That one, Sir!"

"Mmhm I thought it might..." SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

Whatever possessed me to think that this would be a fun game??


By the end of it, dear readers, my bottom was quite red -- and I was one hairbrush less, but no less acquainted with either one!

He ended up choosing the stingier wooden one (of which I neglected to get a picture before passing it along!), which means I now claim ownership of the thuddier, heavier one that looks quite deceptively like wood, but isn't (pictured at left) :D

In all honesty, this one hurts quite a bit more (deeper impact) -- and therefore I am very happy to be more in control of its use!

Well... at least, to be under the illusion of such control, anyway... :D (Much easier to hide it if I know where it is!!)

New Blog! Lea's Corner

A lovely new blog has joined us in spank-o-sphere!

Hop on over to Lea's Corner at Musings of a Bottom -- she is delightful and has quite lovely taste! Let her know what you think of:

Her most recent post, in which she details an action-packed review of two brand new implements for her growing collection, beautiful paddles from Kitty's Exotic Paddles.

One is shaped like a little guitar!! The musician in me is swooning! :D

Patty's Paddle Art

I have had the lovely fortune of receiving the gift of a new paddle! And not only that, but it is an absolute work of art -- decorated quite beautifully with the artwork of Patty (also visit her blog!), sold on Cane-iac :D


So... while stirring certain passions by mere virtue of its shape, weight, and intended purpose, this particular paddle, with Patty's help, provides quite a whole new dimension of imaginative stirring: the emotive illustration depicted on the open-face of the paddle would mentally and physically enhance any spanko's experience! :) I know it's lovely for me to behold, anyway -- I hope you like it, too!

Thank you, dear friend! You have officially beautified my implement collection! :D


P.S. Anyone notice a holiday theme? The title of this particular piece is "Santa Spanks"... go figure it wouldn't matter to a spanko that Christmas is months away... :D:D Whether it's the middle of summer or just about Halloween, the idea of ending up on Santa's "naughty list" is still just as potent... :)

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

New Hairbrush!

In the world of pervert-ables, almost anything, almost anywhere can somehow be warped into almost any manner of kinky usability.

I am reminded of a long-past post by a pair of friends and fellow (quite outrageously prolific) bloggers (The Spanking Writers), about the potential of a particularly well-endowed bunch of carrots to perform as a spanking implement of any significant consequence. : ) You will forgive me for not giving away the end of that story...

Some of the more prominent merchants of highly pervert-able items include (but of course are not limited to):

• Home Depot (or, as some may know it: Dom/Domme Depot),
• Bed, Bath, and Beyond, and
  
• Williams-Sonoma (kitchen-ware)

Anyone care to add their favorite kinkify-able store to the list? :D

To illustrate the point, just go for a leisurely stroll through one of the above some day, and notice how all kinds of fun jumps out at your already tainted eye : ) Try not to let too many innocent shoppers catch you testing various products on your arm or thigh for relative stingy or thuddiness...

Recently, a friend of mine (and an avid spanker :D) found one such pervert-able, featured at right, in CVS -- a drug store/pharmacy.

As pervert-ables go, hairbrushes are typically among the easiest to convert... But this particular brush simply screamed KINKY, right off the shelf. Christened the "Revlon Paddle Brush" by its clever makers, this new addition to my slowly growing treasure trove of implements certainly lives up to its name!

Not only is the paddle-shaped brush a conveniently decadent, velvety shade of lip-stick red (setting the bar a little high for color matching, aren't we??), it is also just the right size, and crafted from a material that carries the perfect amount of heft -- quite stingy, but accompanied by a lovely bit of thud, as well : )


Of course, phrases such as "perfect" and "just right" vary widely in degree of preference and mood -- for example something that is "just right" for you might not be for me, or something that is "perfect" for me after weeks without any proper attention might not be so perfect early on the morning immediately following an intense bedtime spanking!... :D But the variety is most definitely welcome and one of the best parts of this business : )

Thank you, you-know-who-you-are ;-), for the lovely brush! I will treasure it always :D

Foiled by Flip-Flops

On this fine summer weekend, I thought it might be worthwhile to offer a spank-related word or two to the kinky wise. They say we learn something new every day. Well, here are a few things I've definitely learned this week:

1) If you are determined to drive out to meet a spanker, especially if you are going to drive for an hour or more, read your directions very carefully. Driving for half-an-hour through peanut-butter thick traffic in the wrong direction at the start of your journey will probably not only make you late, but, as I found out myself, get you spanked all the harder. (Which, for some, could actually be a very good thing! But, add a bath-brush to the equation, and that's where you have to start seriously weighing your options...)

2) Speaking of bath-brushes... Unless you are very very certain that you want it used on you, don't, whatever you do, indulge in a silly moment of fancy and decide to bring a bath-brush with you to a spanking (I can say this with the double wisdom of having been silly enough to do this twice this week... :D) They will see it, their eyes will light up, an they will not rest until they have thoroughly convinced you never to let that brush see the light of day ever again :D


3) Should you, in fact, decide to disregard 'bit of spanking wisdom #1' and run late, it would be a good idea, at the very least, to refrain from allowing yourself the comfort and fashion of wearing flip-flops. :D Summer heat or no, if your spanker has easy access to snatching the light-weight, paddle-shaped shoes off your feet, especially after having already been provided with the handy excuse of your lateness, he/she will spank you with them -- both of them, in turn -- much to your own chagrin. There's something rather illuminating and highly embarrassing about being spanked with the shoes off one's own feet... : )

All-in-all, let me say in seriousness, following (or not following...:D) these few bits of advice will help to make a highly satisfying spanking experience :D Just ask the gentleman who was kind enough to have inspired this post by taking me over his knee in the not-too-distant past!

Thank you, my dear friend, and thank you all for reading!! : ) Happy spanks!

Obvious Implement

Whereas some spanking implements may be readily hidden in public, such as belts, hands, whippy school canes that are so bendy they can be concealed in backpacks... : ) Others are just not quite so inconspicuous...

Take my partner's new reinforced leather paddle, for instance:


A little forward, wouldn't you say? :D

Every time I see it the word flips on that switch of electricity in me (a switch with which I'm sure many of you are highly familiar...)

The letters are actually cut-outs in the leather, and the wine-red material underneath is actually a nice velvety cloth, which gives the paddle a kind of high-class, luxurious look... Throw in the convenient leather tie attached to the handle and you've got a novelty item!

And, not to mention, it feels nice, too... :D:D

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!

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

Improvise-able Implement

This (improvisation), I believe, is one of the many reasons for my long-standing fascination with a particularly kinkify-able, unobtrusive, and vanilla clothing accessory: the belt.

"Vanilla!?" some might say -- but, yes, remember: there are many, many people walking around in daily vanilla life, wearing belts for no other reason than to hold up their trousers, or perhaps for the trend/look/fashion/eye-catching quality of a flashy waist accent. You don't see these same people carrying around floggers or slippers or canes in broad daylight, do you?

Alright, perhaps a slim number of them may be wearing slippers as well, but there is something decidedly less attractive about taking something off of one's foot, which has been on the ground outside, to use as a spanking implement, rather than from around one's waist, which stays at a relatively safe distance from the ground in most situations.

And, given, there may be a few people making use of walking canes/sticks, such as the one under the employ of the dominating, confident, and bitingly intelligent Dr. House (played by the hot and British Hugh Laurie)... :D

But, in most cases, these walking canes, while food for thought, are not the thin, bendy, whippy rattan kind used for a less mundanely vanilla purpose...


To illustrate just how kinky a vanilla belt in the hands of an unwitting young vanilla individual can be, I would like to relate to you a personal story.

I was with other college-age friends at a convention which required our staying in a hotel room together. No, not an anime or a Dungeons and Dragons convention, although I have been to my fair share of those... And not that this is entirely relevant, but I was the only girl staying in our room (which seems to happen quite a bit around me...)

This happened to be a convention that required dressing up for more than one occasion, which meant lots of lovely suits, ties, skirts, heels, ...and belts :D One evening, after one such occasion, a friend and I arrived back at the room about 5 minutes before the rest of our troop, in deep conversation with each other about some-such convention-related topic. Upon entering, I flopped down tummy-first on the full-size bed, black skirt safely positioned around me so as not to show anything inappropriate, while he went right to the closet and started shedding layers of masculine dress clothes.

I'm holding my face in my hands,
elbows on the bed, knees bent with
feet in the air, typical girl-on-the-bed
position, watching him as we talk.
Jacket off, chit-chat chit-chat, shoes
off, talk talk talk, tie loosened,
chit-chat talk talk -- and then his
hands went to his belt buckle.

I could feel my face turning red at that moment.

It will pass, was my thought: he will simply take off the belt and set it down, and we will continue our conversation as if nothing unusual had happened (which, in vanilla actuality, it hadn't...). But no... apparently my friend was more agitatedly stimulated by our discussion than I had anticipated, because not only did he whip off his belt, making it sing through the belt-loops of his black slacks, but he kept it in his hand as we continued to talk.













Not only did he keep it in his hand while animatedly throwing his arms around in vibrant discourse, but, to make the belt less cumbersome, he doubled it over. Not only was his belt now doubled in one hand, but to keep up with the building heat and movement in the room, he rolled up the sleeves of his shirt.

:-0 I was no longer able to focus on the conversation. My brain was doing somersaults. :D

As if that wasn't enough, my friend was losing himself so fully in the heat of his sentiments about our now almost one-sided conversation that he started pacing, and slapping the doubled end of his belt onto the palm of his other hand. Here I must re-iterate that this is a vanilla friend of mine, who has not the slightest idea of my kinky tendencies.

By now, I am staring. Utterly staring... I think my jaw may have even dropped... He is swinging that doubled-over belt around like it's nothing and I'm lying face-down on this bed in a skirt... After a few minutes of this, he finally realized that I was entirely distracted, realized what he was doing pacing around the room with the belt, and then grinned apologetically. He strode back over to the closet and set his belt down, beginning to unbutton the top of his dress shirt as I eased back into the conversation, and our other room-mates knocked on the door.

Yum. :D

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

Introduction to the Cane

'Tis rather fitting, is it not, that my first (and long-awaited) taste of the cane --

(not this kind of cane):


(but this kind, *shivers*):


-- occurred when I was last in England? : ) How charmingly perfect!

I had the good fortune of having made some friends online, and when I found myself overseas, the double good fortune of being able to meet up with them -- a happy and lovely couple. :D

The cane he used was a thin one, what people who know canes better might call a junior cane... a senior cane is a little thicker, he said... He'd had to be able to bend the cane enough to fit into a backpack, so as not to arouse suspicion when the three of us went out for lunch beforehand... :)

I knew from my previous experiences that I would be nervous and that my nerves would show, so I'd told them about that through email, and warned them that it didn't mean I wasn't enjoying myself, or that I didn't want to continue... even if I showed nerves when it was just the three of us together in the room. I just feel wholly un-natural without clothing -- it never made sense to me how men -- or at least, any of the men I've been with, and probably many women whom I have not met -- can walk around freely without clothes -- get up to go change the temperature of the room, pour a drink, what-have-you -- completely naked, without any compunction whatsoever...!

In the spirit of light-hearted ceremony, he had me bend over the back of a chair, said he was going to give me the traditional 'six of the best,' with the last being the hardest, as always, and had me count each one followed by a 'thank you.' :D

He told me that if I moved out of position I would get extra... And he specifically mentioned keeping my hands on the cushion of the chair -- that was new for me, as I'm not used to having to concentrate on keeping my hands a certain way... I'm not one to actually reach back and try to cover myself (at least I haven't yet!), but the freedom of being able to move my arms around has always been something I've taken for granted, and suddenly knowing that I'd have to deal with extra punishment if I so much as lifted one hand to grab the arm of the chair was... rather exciting... *blushes*

I forgot to count the first one, because it was rather shocking, and out of the corner of my eye I saw him exchange glances with his lovely wife, who was on the other side watching my face to make sure I was okay... He reminded me to count and gave that one to me again. Those first six were rather light (although they still hurt!) -- I knew he was more interested in gauging my reactions than anything else...

Much later, after the three of us had played with a lot of other things and had some more fun ;D, he wanted to give me twelve more, harder strokes.

I went back over the chair, far less warmed up than I'd been before (he'd hand-spanked me before those first six), and I had to count again. These came faster than the first six, and the first of the twelve was as hard as the last of the first six had been. I was having some trouble keeping up with the counting, and this time his wife was much closer, telling me to breathe through it... I was very grateful to have her there, understanding exactly what I was going through :D

We finally got to twelve and I hadn't gotten out of position, and he was quite pleased with the perfect set of marks he'd left -- they had me look at the set of thin lines in the mirror. At that point, he noticed that one side was more deeply marked than the other, and he proposed that I take six more of the same intensity to even out the marks... I protested, obviously, as those twelve had been quite painful, but his grip on my arm as he put me back over the chair was hardly resistible...

With those last six, which he said I didn't need to count because they would come too quickly, I came very close to tears... At one point both of my knees were bent, feet off the ground, and eyes tightly shut, so I didn't notice the chair starting to tilt backwards... His watchful wife caught it before it got too far, but he took the opportunity to count that as 'moving out of position' and gave me an extra for it -- which he later confessed was rather mean of him... :D

He told me later that he couldn't have caned me any harder with that cane -- and she nodded her agreement, as she had watched him do it. Through the whole thing he'd kept making sure that I was okay, keeping lines of communication open, which was very important to me. There were lots of hugs and cuddles afterward, all very essential to a successful encounter :D

Happily, it was a very fine introduction to the English cane, in England, by and Englishman, and I loved every minute of it! : ) Well... maybe not those couple of moments just after the stroke had landed, and the real agony of the pain swelled to a peak -- but those were only moments, and the overall effect was well, well worth it... :D

Friday Night Spanking

Well, afternoon, but close enough :D

Now that the spanking niche of my life is beginning to take on a life of its own (Yay!), I'm finding it difficult to go for very long (more than three weeks... :D) without being spanked... Seriously, it gets to the point where I start craving even just the sting -- the impact, just feeling something...back there :D

Luckily, the lovely world of the inter-nets has opened up many more opportunities to meet and connect with wonderful people who are more than willing, and in fact quite interested, in helping to alleviate this craving! :D So when the opportunity popped up to find myself over someone's knee not but two days after my 22nd birthday, and at the very least a good three weeks since the last time I'd been spanked, I had to take it. Wouldn't you? :D

And here I am! -- A hand, a belt, a hairbrush, and a lovely wooden spoon (featured below) later, sitting on my nice cushy chair, with a nice warm, stinging sit-spot *blush*


Thank you H! :D And many happy spankings in the future!! : )

First Implement

I've told the story of my first "real" spanking experience, which, for me, meant the first time I was mentally and physically over someone's knee, with the intention of being there for a while, getting spanked. It had nothing to do with the level of pain, or the number of the layers of clothing, or anything really at all except for the specific element of being an experience meant to be regarded as an OTK spanking.

I had, before that, been swatted, patted, even briefly held over a lap and then released, and, in fact, even felt an implement. None of these experiences, however wonderful they were, constituted, in my mind, an "actual" spanking, like the one previously described. They do, however, hold an important place in my own kinky journey, and thus deserve a place in blog-world. :)

The first implement I ever felt was a small, thin, wooden paddle. As innocent a paddle as it might have been (compared to what I've experienced since), when he first brought it out and I first saw it, my heart jumped into my throat and I suddenly got very, very worried.

Not only was I already naked, I was also already on my hands and knees on the floor, my butt toward him and feeling very vulnerable... I'd only gotten there in the first place out of constant encouragement (both verbal and some slightly stingy hand-spanking) from him, and only stayed there due to his continuous, "Don't worry, you'll be fine... You're doing great... Be a big girl..."

All of his verbal encouragement helped me tremendously to stay focused, despite my knowledge that I am, in fact, an adult, and that talk like this in any other situation would leave me slightly affronted... In this situation it did everything to keep me aroused and grounded : )

The first time that wood came in contact with my already slightly warm, bare skin was actually rather shocking. I remember thinking, "OW! What?" I was all at once very conscious of it's flatness, it's hard woodenness, and it's breadth of coverage over my pliable skin. After the shock of the first swat, the second incited a wiggle and a squeak from me, which in turn invited more encouragement.

"Stings, doesn't it? Don't worry... it's not that bad..." Whap! "See? Just a little sting..."

I could hear the smile in his voice, and despite the discomfort in my bottom-regions, I felt able to relax into it a bit more. I remember leaning forward so that my elbows touched the ground, and my forehead could rest on the carpet -- it was very straining and tiring, to put up with that kind of treatment! :D

After only six or seven whaps with the stingy thinner paddle, he revealed a slightly thicker one, though no bigger in width or length. My eyebrows disappeared under the hair on my forehead and I wiggled a little more in vain protest, all worry and fret again. Would the thicker paddle hurt more??

He merely smiled and said, "That's right..." : ) Apparently I'd provided him with exactly the reaction he'd been looking for, which did little to comfort me (but did quite a bit to enhance my excitement :D).

I received only two or three with the thicker paddle, which was just fine for me, as my butt was stinging terribly by that time and I didn't want to feel that wood hit my skin again. After that we moved on to other, less stingy entertainment... :D

Oh my how little I knew at that point... that stinging wasn't really stinging at all!! : ) But for the moment it was just enough, and it let me know that, in fact, I could handle at least a small, thin wooden paddle...