Monday, August 30, 2010

Strapping Wins! & SL Note

Well, you've all voted again and the next thing to happen in the story is a good, painful strapping. You guys are harsh! Of course, rubbing in the Ben Gay was a fairly close second. I hope you all know I wasn't thinking about this for its medicinal purposes...

On to Shadow Lane!

Most of you know Shadow Lane's party in Vegas is this weekend. I have a couple of very special scenes lined up (including a fire & wax scene--woo hoo!). I'm really, really looking forward to this wekend. So much pent-up desire! I am sorry that a dear dear playmate isn't going to be able to make it, but I hope she knows she will be with us in spirit! (Lizzie and I will toast with a Dark & Stormy from the bar!)

I'm taking a bit of a different philosophy this party than I did at FMS. At FMS my schedule was pretty booked wall-to-wall. This is how I run my business life. My schedule usually begins at 8 am and is booked with meetings all day long, with times blocked off for lunch, potty breaks, etc. Generally, my assistant points me at a conference room and shoves. I hate to say it, but I made FMS feel that way a bit. And I didn't like it. My "schedule" for SL is pretty open (aside from those specific experiences I don't want to miss) and that's a conscious decision to be more improvisational and impromptu, seeing friends and setting things up in the moment. I'm hoping this will work out better for me and I'll feel less harried and less like, well, work.

Most of all, I'm looking forward to seeing dear friends, catch up with people who's company I truly enjoy and meeting new people. In some cases, I've spent a year in conversation with certain women since last SL and I'm eager to get my hands on 'em.

It's going to be a great weekend in Vegas. Arriving Thursday and leaving Monday and probably never once going outside the hotel (which is how it went down last year)! LIttle sleep, sore hands and arms. Doesn't sound like a vacation to me, but trust me, it is.

Thursday, August 26, 2010

Tropical Torment: Part 4

“Ouch!” Jennifer said. “I am taking it seriously!” She stomped her foot on the plush carpet.

“I think we need to take this up a notch,” Marcus said. He went to the implements, pulling up a cloth to grab something Jennifer had not seen there, hidden. He returned. “Get up on the bed, face down.”

She obliged, careful not to have the ginger move. As if reading her mind, he slapped the ginger firmly. Jennifer tensed, which was its own form of torture.

“Keep your head down, girl,” he said. She did as she was told and Marcus quickly had rope around her ankles, wrapping them around and around, creating an intricate Shibari pattern. He took the remainder of the rope and tied it to the bedpost. He repeated this with her hands, so she ended up flat on her stomach, arms wide, legs splayed out. “Now you’ll take some more.”

Jennifer wasn’t sure what Marcus had in mind. When they’d talked about this trip on IM for weeks upon weeks he’d never mentioned rope or bondage. It was almost as if he were being influenced by outside sources. Strange. Tied in this position, she could writhe and position her hips and bottom, but not much else.

She felt Marcus kiss her bottom, quite passionately. Soon, he was working the ginger, in and out, driving her crazy, punctuating the movement with a hand slap on each cheek. Jennifer’s breathing grew heavy as he pressed the ginger into her, slowly pulled it out and pushed it back in—very, very slowly—all over again.

Marcus grabbed a wood cane, light and swishy, and brought it suddenly and firmly down on Jennifer’s bottom. It created a cracking sound in the room from the strike. Jennifer screamed, surprised by the sudden and bright pain she felt.

“Shhh,” Marcus said. And he struck her again. As she began to pant, taking in the pain, he rapidly ran the cane down her legs, tapping her like a snare drum. He smacked the bottom of each foot, hard. “Shit!” Jennifer called out. He ran the cane across her back, down her sides, covering her with quick yet firm taps from the wood. Jennifer was moaning, something as much a whine as it was a sound of pleasure.

Spread out in front of him, Marcus removed the ginger, disposing of it and cleaning her up before gently rubbing her sex yet again, reveling in her wetness.

“You seem to be enjoying yourself, even though you don’t sound like it,” Marcus exclaimed, smiling.

“Damn it!” Jennifer said.

“What?” Marcus asked, still rubbing her.

“You’re making me crazy!”

“Am I?”


“Well, I think I’m going to make you a bit crazier,” Marcus said. He climbed onto the bed and rested on top of her back, kissing her neck, moving down her spine as he continued to kiss her, dragging his fingernails along her flesh as he went. He ended up on her buttocks. He bit her again. Hard.

“Would you stop that?” she whined.

“My, you are a pain in the ass today,” Marcus said, getting back up.

“I believe you’re a pain in mine, to be specific,” Jennifer said.

Marcus got off the bed and returned with something that rattled around from what Jennifer could hear. What could it be? Marcus fished something from the object. She could hear ice sloshing and rattling.

“Don’t move,” he said.

“I can’t move, Marcus,” she replied, brattily.

“God, you’re asking for it.”

Marcus pulled the metal paddle out of the ice bucket and instead of drying it off, proceeded to whack Jennifer on her buttocks, the combination of the icy cold metal, dripping water and the metal paddle itself searing her flesh in pain.

Tuesday, August 24, 2010

Bondage Wins!

Well, you ladies certainly are the kinky bunch, aren't you?

First, I get a note that there wasn't enough actual figging described in my post. Well, ladies, since the vote a while back was to keep this R-rated, I decided not to go into too much detail, else lose faithful readers like Erica!

With bondgage winning, this is going to get interesting (if it's not already). Look for a new chapter in a day or two...

Friday, August 20, 2010

Tropical Torment: Part 3

Marcus gave Jennifer a few more sound strikes with the cane, leaving a trail of red lines across her bottom. This went on for a few minutes before Marcus could sense she was tensing up as the pain built up inside of her. He lined to strike again, swung harder than he had with the others and let fly, loosening his grip on the cane so it reverberated with a surprising vibration on Jennifer’s shapely butt. She grunted with the hit, taking it in.

Marcus set the cane aside and firmly massaged the spots where he had brought the cane down. He pressed hard into the tissue, open-palmed. Then he followed up with a gentle touch, moving his fingertips across the surface of her flesh, covering every millimeter of her bottom and continuing down her legs to her heels and back again, focusing his touch between her legs when he returned to her beautiful ass. She moaned in response to his touch, subtly pushing back toward his hand.

“Get up,” Marcus ordered and Jennifer did as she was told. “Put your hands on the edge of the bed, girl.” She silently placed her hands on the fine white linen and noted the shift of the sun to a more golden hue as the day turned to late afternoon. “Look forward. Do not look back,” Marcus said. She heard him moving things around and then smelled a strong, acidic odor that reached her nose by the light, breezy tradewinds. She heard a rhythmic shicking sound and Jennifer realized Marcus was cutting a bit of ginger root into a plug while she held position.

She wanted to look back to see what size he was forming the plug, but she didn’t dare. A couple minutes later he began to gently insert the generously lubed ginger plug into her. Gingering, she said to herself as she took it into her. It should be called ‘gingering’ not figging. This has nothing to do with a fig. Marcus rotated and worked the root until it was in position.

“There you go, girl,” Macus said, sounding satisfied with the results. He spanked her bottom open-handed on both cheeks, rapidly, and very, very hard to get Jennifer to clench. A hiss escaped her lips as the ginger did exactly what it was supposed to do. “Stay put.”

Marcus went over to his stash of implements, choosing a nasty little leather paddle, studded with tiny, knot-like ridges across its surface. He gently pressed it against her bottom so she could feel what was about to come. Jennifer tensed for a moment when she realized what implement Marcus had brought out. She hated this particular paddle but knew he wouldn’t go too far with it. She relaxed as the first of many well-modulated blows came down onto her cheeks. The ginger stayed firmly in place and Marcus was careful to avoid the root with the leather paddle. At the end of the smacks with this particular implement he dropped it to the luxurious carpet and then spanked her squarely on the root plug, thrusting it into her momentarily. “Ow!” Jennifer muttered.

“What was that, girl?” Marcus asked sounding annoyed.

“Nothing, honey,” she said, trying to sugarcoat the moment.

“Did you say, ‘ow’?” he inquired, his palm still pressed against the ginger root plug.

“Uh…I guess,” Jennifer replied.

“Did I give you permission to speak,” he asked toppily.

“You didn’t tell me not to speak!” Jennifer said with exaspiration.

“I don’t think you’re in any position to be talking to back, girl,” Marcus said, roughly pulling the ginger plug out and then shoving it back into her again. Jennifer squirmed in pleasure rather than pain and Marcus reached between her legs to stroke her sex.

“Perhaps you’re not taking this as seriously as I am,” he said, picking up the paddle off the carpet and returning to his implements to determine what would be her punishment for her noise. Before he did he turned back and bit her hard on her left cheek, leaving angry red teeth marks on her pale ass cheek.

Thursday, August 19, 2010

Quick Post While I'm On The Road

It's hard for me to focus on the blog or fiction writing when I'm traveling on business. In the mean time, don't know if you've seen the book The Art of Spanking, but check it out. It's available on Amazon and features drawings and art of beautiful women over the knee and in other interesting positions. This is not a manual in erotic spanking but is a gorgeous art book that is used as reference with vanilla artists all over the world. I discovered it when an artist who works for me had it out on his drawing board. I nearly tripped when I saw it there (as you could imagine!). He was using it as reference for the female form. Enjoy!

Tuesday, August 17, 2010

Figging Wins!

Well, the votes are in and figging wins. Now, I know there are a few of you not happy about this outcome, but hey!, I didn't have a hand in this!

The next chapter will be coming soon. I'm in the Middle East on business at the moment, so I'm a bit scattered and spread thin. Patience, please!

Thursday, August 12, 2010

Pimping Erica

In case you didn't know, Erica Scott has decided to finally port her blog over from that desolate wasteland known as MySpace to the all-gobbling Blogger domain. Click her name to take you to her new page, which she's updating with tasty tidbits to make it cooler and spiffier than her old, digitally-threadbare MySpace page.

Now, she'll glower at me and stamp her foot and do her trademark, "Oooooh!" at me over this, but I gotta tell you, I've been trying to get her to leave that early-2000s dung heap for over a year. I've suggested all sorts of things, from FetLife to Facbook, Blogger to...I didn't care, just get out of that bubblegum land of lame garage bands and feckless American Idolesque wannabes and move on to something, well, more relevant and grown-up. (No, Erica, I can't just be nice and pimp your blog, I gotta gloat, too!)

So, update your bookmarks, folks. Erica's moved from a scary strip mall in the low rent district of the interwebs to a cool, hip new part of town. Make sure you get a chance to visit!

Tuesday, August 10, 2010

Tropical Torment: Part 2

“Stop gawking the place and get that ass over here!” Marcus said, playfully grabbing Jennifer by the arm and pulling her across his lap. “If there were people here, they’d be thrilled to see me OTK you, cutie!” She was across his lap in a flash and Marcus began with a flurry of swats across her lovely bottom. She sighed, more out of relaxation and finally getting what she so desperately wanted for so long.

Marcus finished warming her up and pulled out a tawse and started swatting her rear with it. He wasn’t fooling around. Jennifer realized this was going to be the start of an amazing weekend. Truly a weekend she’d been dreaming of for months and months. It was wonderful to get out of the cold of her East Coast environment and into this tranquil, amazing warmth—just as Marcus warmed her rear. She snapped back into focus. “Ouch!” she exclaimed as the tawse landed with a rather curt snap.

“Oh, don’t pretend it’s awful. You love it.” He really heated up her rear with the strappy tanned leather, then he set it aside and, without losing a beat, proceeded to smack her sweet spot on either cheek, really laying into it, making that line of flesh ultra-sensitive. He followed it up with a scratch of nails across the thin red line at the base of Jennifer’s cheek.

Marcus set the tawse aside and looked over his implements, wondering where to go next. He pulled out a small, short bamboo cane; perfect for OTK as it was only 14-inches long. He sat his left hand on the top of her behind, lining his fingers up with her tailbone and touched the cane to her bottom.

“Oooh!” she said, stamping her foot down on the carpet. She didn’t like the idea of this cane at all. She knew it all too well.

“Quiet, you,” Marcus said, his voice getting husky. He lined up his first stroke, tapping the cane against her panties, raised it up and…paused. “You know what?” he said, smiling, loving the mindfuck of the moment. “Why don’t you take off those panties. That would make this much better.”

“Dammit,” Jennifer said, getting up off his lap and noting casually he was aroused beneath his board shorts. She shimmied off her panties and went back across his lap. Though she dreaded that little spiteful cane, she really wanted to feel it’s sting across her cheeks.

Back across his lap, Marcus swung and hit hard, leaving the cane there where it landed and pressing it into her flesh. He pulled back and smacked it down in multiple strikes, raising red, angry welts horizontally across her rear. Jennifer grimaced and sucked up the pain, noting her own arousal as she did.

Sunday, August 8, 2010

Tropical Torment: The Votes are In!

The poll is closed and my first interactive Flash Fucktion, Tropical Torment, is ready to go the next chapter. By only one vote, the next chapter will begin with Marcus spanking Jennifer OTK (you guys are boring!). Of course, missing tying for first place was a nice, naughty (yes, both!) figging.

Look forward to Chapter 2 of Tropical Torment in the next few days!

Friday, August 6, 2010

Those Dreaded HSEs

High School Emotions, that is. The insecurities, dramas and worries we thought we left behind with zits and braces.

Erica Scott and I find this topic so interesting (especially since it turns up regularly in the spanking scene, as it does with pretty much any group of humans) that we're writing parallel blogs on it: her female view and my male view. See hers over at

So what is it about these high school emotions? Where do they come from? What's it all about? It's weird. We "grow up." We "stabilize" into some semblance of normal adulthood. And then, whenever it happens in our lives, we find ourselves in the lifestyle, exploring our kink. And when we do, we're putting ourselves out there--emotionally, mentally, and, for some, spiritually (whatever that may mean to you).

We ask ourselves questions before we publicly play:
  • Will someone play with me?
  • Am I attractive enough?
  • What if I'm "scorned"?
  • What if no one likes me?
  • What if I do something wrong? Smell bad? Perform poorly? Wrap? Fart?
  • Etc., etc., etc.
Many of those questions we never ask ourselves in adulthood. Particularly if you're married or in a stable relationship, those are things we don't worry much about. And if we do, it's typically at a different level of anxiety. Sure, at spanko parties we're all amongst friends, so to speak, but there's that girl you've always wanted to play with, there's that guy you've wanted to OTK with...whatever.

And that's where the HSEs come in.

Sure, there's drama in life and there are those who thrive off it. But there seems to be an inordinate amount of it at play parties. Tears, anger, frustration, isolation, ostracization (is that a word?--my spellcheck says no). We open ourselves to so many of these things, plus sheer exhaustion, physical duress (in one form or another), sleep deprivation--it's no wonder.

And look, I'm not pointing fingers. I do it too. I have my moments. I sat in a hotel room with two of my dear friends, lying on their bed and wondering aloud what the hell I was doing at this particular party. I've had Erica give me pep talks like a high school football team coach before the big rivalry game ("Craig, just walk into the party like you own it! C'mon! You'll do great!"). I've blogged about my own post-party drop. It just is.

Now, I'm certain not everyone experiences these feelings. But damn, once you recognize it, you see not only in yourself, but all around you. And that's okay. Because at a play party, we're all in high school in the gym at the Winter Wonderfest Dance waiting to be asked or building up the nerve to ask...

Thursday, August 5, 2010

Flash Fucktion: Tropical Torment

Hi, friends! Today's Flash Fucktion is dedicated to a dear friend who came up with the setting for this latest story.

Unlike EO: Moon of Jupiter this story has a twist. It's INTERACTIVE! See the poll to the right on the home page. Vote on where you want the story to go. The most votes after two days will take the story in that direction. Have fun!

The waves lapped up onto the white sand beach, a breeze cooling the humid, tropical heat. Jennifer walked down the path barefoot, watching the waves casually flop onto the sand. She came over a short hill and saw the bungalow on stilts, part of it in the water and part of it rooted in the sand. Nearly three walls of the bungalow were folded away, allowing the sea breeze to flow through the structure. Sheer white curtains fluttered around the natural wood walls. Jennifer got a tingle just seeing it.

She quickened her pace as she reached a gravel walk that a set of teak stairs that led to a platform that wrapped around the bungalow. She walked around to the ocean side and stepped into the bungalow, feeling the heat of the sun on the wood beneath her feet. She stepped onto the cream colored carpet and saw Marcus sitting on the bed, enjoying a piƱa colada.

Jennifer got a big grin on her face. “Marcus!” she said, smiling and running over to him. He jumped up and gave her a big hug, grabbing her bottom and lifting her into the air to kiss her. He set her down and held her away from him.

“You made it!” he said. “What do you think?” He motioned to the bungalow.

“It’s amazing!” she said, looking around the room, eying the platter of fresh tropical fruit on the coffee table and the beautiful Tahitian art in the room. She hugged him again. “How did you find such an isolated place?” she asked. “There’s nothing around for about a quarter mile!”

Marcus smiled. “The internet. You know.” She jumped onto the bed.

“I like it.”

“Good,” he said, setting the drink aside and revealing beneath a beach towel a set of implements lined up.

“What’s that?” she asked, looking over at the carefully lined up row of paddles, crops, canes and more.

Wednesday, August 4, 2010


A recurring theme in some of my blogs has involved the idea of symbiosis. This isn't just the obvious: top/bottom, dom/sub, hand/butt. It's something substantially deeper and more resonant than that and it's something I certainly wish everyone in the lifestyle would have an opportunity to experience, but I'm not sure they do.

I've been very fortunate to make a few really intense, really rewarding connections in the lifestyle. I've blogged before about NRE and Nonmonogomous Relationships. The symbiosis I've experienced has been a truly amazing one.

Friendships offer their own form of symbiosis: camaraderie, entertainment, conversation, shared hobbies and experiences. Each friend should (more or less) get and give equally to the relationship. These lifestyle relationships include friendship, but there's more--and I know this is also a theme for me: emotional intensity, emotional intimacy, a real honestly and "nakedness" in terms of connection.

Of course, beating someone until they're utterly "exposed" is a big part of it, but being able to communicate, share and experience is an honesty and openness that is often rarely experienced in many longterm vanilla marriages.

I'm thankful of my intense symbiotic relationships and for the wonderful, more casual ones as well.

What are your experiences?

Monday, August 2, 2010

Age Play: Diapers are for Babies. Real ones.

I was chatting online with a friend last night and we were talking about what squicked us out in terms of kink. First, she looked up the entomology of the word "squick" and found it was the result of a gross-out conversation in which the goal was to freak the other readers out. "Squick" is the sound a skull makes when you fuck it. Thus... Second, another brief diversion: I don't begrudge anyone for doing anything. Certainly I'm not one to throw stones. I'm as fucked up a kinko as the next person, but there are many things that squick me out. I'm not judging! So that out of the way...

So we were talking about what squicked us out. She told me a story about a bunch of guys she knew who would meet to intentionally try to freak the others out. They succeeded with Japanese Vomit Porn. Listen to me people: I never want to see those three words strung together in that manner ever again. EVER! We went back and forth on a few things and then hit on something that squicked us both out: age play.

Again, I'm not judging, I just don't get it. I've written before about being a little weirded out about my spanko friends who like the teacher/student dynamic. Doesn't work for me. Unless it's the Reform School at Stonehenge. Anyway... It got us talking about extreme age play, the grown diapers, giant cribs, poopy cleanings and, well... yuck!

I spent the first twenty years of my life running as fast as I could away from childhood. It was full of bullies, bad memories, injuries (my own), deaths (others) and occasional really wonderful family times. But I wanted to get to the girl part, the career part. The having fun part. The idea of regressing, of going backwards, of ending up back in diapers and then--of all things!--getting off on that. Well, good for you.

I kindly ask you keep it in your own playpen. I'll sit here and squick others out on the incredibly fucked up shit I like to do!