Friday, April 26, 2013

Boardwalk Badness Weekend: A Trip Report of Sorts

Everyone rushes back from their weekend parties and quickly write up their thoughts and experiences for their blogs or FetLife postings. I typically do the same. But this time things were different and I needed time to process. My first spanking party was only four years ago at Shadow Lane, back when they were doing them twice a year. Right after that I started this very blog. My first trip report was Shadow Lane's second (and now only) party over the holiday weekend in September. You can go in the wayback machine and read that post here

If you're looking for a real trip report, as I've written in the past, unfortunately you won't be finding one here this time. Instead, here's a deeply personal discourse on what's going on inside my head at the moment.

So what's changed between then and now? Well, everything. Back then, I was married. Things weren't great. Our lives and kink were going in and taking us in different directions. I've written about all that here as well. 

Parties were about promise, opportunity and fulfillment. Meeting new people to fill a void. Taking in as much as I could. Absorbing. Getting as many women over my lap as I could muster before arm muscle spasms and blood blisters would burn out my poor palm. I remember describing myself as an "emotional sponge," trying to take in the intimacy and emotion and connection I so desperately needed. 

I found that in my brief encounters in some ways. Some of those encounters grew deeper into longer term relationships, friendships and play partnerships. I've had loves and losses. I've made many friends and lost a few. But most amazingly, I fell in love with a friend and play partner, Lizzie through the course of this adventure. After I filed for divorce those parties took on new meaning: a chance for us to connect, play and find a deeper place in our relationship. 

Since my divorce, Lizzie has moved in with me and my family. We love, play, do a variety of truly fucked up things, go to dungeons (and that's in addition to the fucked up things!), explore our own D/s and more. As I said to her this morning as I was going out the door, "If I have to come up with one word to explain how I feel it's fulfilled." She's given me so much.

So going to Boardwalk Badness Weekend in Atlantic City last week came at an interesting time. Lizzie and I spent the first part of this year getting ready to move out of the home I've lived in with my family for 12 years. It was a lot of work to go through stuff, dump things, sell others, pack and move. On top of that, I traveled for business to Europe, we went to a conference together the week before the move, her parents came into town just a couple short weeks after and we then we went out of town for a much-needed vacation, all described here and here.

By the time the calendar rolled around to leave for Atlantic City both us were holding back the urge to shout, "Can't we just stay home?" We had a chuckle when we both admitted that part of what we wanted was just a quiet weekend. But of course we were eager to see friends like Jada, Michael & Kate, Brad and others. 

But something had changed as well. Instead of seeking out those parties full of opportunity and fulfillment—charging our batteries with things we couldn't get at home—we have those things now. Everyday. So the party was an odd new thing for me. If I went before to be an emotional sponge to suck up intimacy and emotion and connection these were things I get everyday at home.

Of course, the party was fun. We enjoyed the vendor fair, the suite parties, hanging out with great friends that continue to become even better friends with each encounter. But that driving need that became the impetus for each weekend is gone. Pfffft. So, aside from reconnecting with friends, what's the party for, anyway? 

This is what I've struggled with since coming back from BBW. How to explain where my head is at with regard to these parties. I enjoy them. I used to love them, to need them. But I don't need them now. I have what I need. I don't have this driving urge to play with tons of people. I got to play with three of the four people I really cared about and wanted to play with in AC. 

What I have to do is discover, for me, what the parties are all about. Are they purely social occasions? A chance to reconnect with friends I rarely get to see elsewhere? An opportunity for Lizzie and I to play in private and just enjoy each other? As soon as I figure it out I'll let you know, Fellow Kinkster.

In the mean time, enjoy the other trip reports. I'm sure they're a great time capsule of what transpired at Resorts in Atlantic City. Once I figure out what parties now mean to me you'll be the first to know.

Wednesday, April 24, 2013

Sex Amusement Park? Yes please!

Who doesn't love the idea of a sex amusement park? Well, the South Koreans do. They flock to "Love Land" on Jeju Island, evidently. Jeju is known as a wedding/honeymoon paradise, so the idea of a Love Land to get the ball rolling just makes sense...I guess. More a garden with statues that a park with attractions, rides and shows, Love Land is, uh, interesting.

Five lascivious Korean women go on the only "ride" in the park...

An "exhibit" on car sex...I guess.

An interactive display on the urinary tract? Golden showers? I'm a
little unclear on this one.

Who needs a fireworks show?

Even the handles on the bathroom doors are multifunctional.

So if you ever find yourself on Jeju Island, head on over to Love Land. Who knows? Maybe some day they'll open Kink World. I can just see the rides now... Crack the Whip, Top Spin, Dom Mountain and much, much more.

Friday, April 19, 2013

Double Chross'd


Okay, I'm kinda stupid excited about this rare incident, and it happened without me even realizing it. A couple weeks ago, on the same day two of my/our blog entries were Chrossed! One was for Lizzie and my shared blog, Black & Blue, and was our blog entry about our scene in Yosemite. The other was for my spanking short story right here on this blog.

It's a pleasant surprise to get Chrossed, but to get Chrossed twice in one day? Incredible. Thanks for the Chross! We appreciate it.

Wednesday, April 17, 2013

Atlantic City Bound

Lizzie and I are heading off to Atlantic City tomorrow for SSNY's Boardwalk Badness Weekend. Can't wait to meet up with friends, play, have some intense scenes and enjoy the Boardwalk. Lizzie and I will post reports on Black & Blue (click icon to the right) and I'll write up an update here upon our return.

If you're on your way to Atlantic City yourself we hope to meet up with you there! Drop us a line.

Tuesday, April 2, 2013

Flash Fucktion: Monica's Quandry


Monica loved men. All types of men. Office men, construction men, police men, firemen, surly men, polite men. She loved the smell of them, the way they looked in their suits and work overalls and uniforms. She imagined the terrible, unspeakable things they would do to her if they realized what a naughty girl she was, the way sometimes she'd go out shopping downtown just to drop her handbag and bend over, knowing her skirt would rise up enough to share a glimpse of revealing stocking or—if she dared—a bit of garter.

Naughty girls could get in trouble with the right men. Men who understood that women who behaved poorly needed a certain amount of...correction. Then, kicking and screaming, a curl of a satisfied grin on her face has she did so, these sorts of men would grab her by the waist, pull her to the sofa, throw her over their firm laps and give her a proper spanking.

Monica daydreamed about it quite often. Mostly because she didn't find the "right man" nearly as often as she would prefer. Because, as far as Monica was concerned, she was more or less "naughty" all the time and needed "correcting" rather continuously, for her tastes.

She'd found a lovely Right Man named Tom. Tom had been taking good care of her behavioral issues for several months. Tom was older, but experienced, and Monica loved the feel of his hands when he spanked her. Firm, strong, thuddy. Sometimes he'd restrain her wrists while she writhed beneath him. It was heavenly.

But Tom was out of town, called away to the corporate office in Cincinnati. She had driven him to the airport to catch his morning TWA flight a few days ago, and to her surprise he had given her a spanking in the back seat of the car in the parking lot. God, she missed that man's hand. And yes, of course, she missed him, too.

He was staying in Cincinnati over the weekend, determined to see a Reds game, so Monica was feeling rather pouty earlier that day about his choices. So when she met Roger at the cafeteria at lunchtime she was smitten. Handsome, strong, blue eyes and—as she noticed before almost anything else—his large hands. The cafeteria was busy as was usually the case on a Friday, so the two ended up sitting across from one another after making small talk in the queue. Roger worked in a law office a few floors below Monica's. He lived alone with a golden retriever. He was polite but something about him made Monica draw to him like a moth to a flame. And it wasn't just those hands or piercing eyes, it was the way he seemed so decisive and intense that intrigued her.

By the end of her salisbury steak and peas Monica had blushingly given Roger her phone number, CA5-4994. And here she was, daydreaming on the sofa, a Friday night alone, her hand slowly inching toward her crotch, when the phone rang so loudly she nearly jumped out of her skin! It had to be Roger! Her mother wouldn't call until Saturday morning, as was her habit, and April had some sort of game night with the church she frequented. What if Roger was calling to ask her out? The phone rang a second time, the bell loud in her small apartment.

"But it wouldn't be right if I went out with other men while Tom's away!" Monica actually said aloud as she reached for the phone. "Hello?"

It was Roger! She felt vertiginous. What would Tom do if he found out? He wanted to go out Saturday. Nothing too serious, just a bike ride through the park and lunch. That was innocent enough, wasn't it? Nothing to feel guilty about, right?

* * *

The bike ride had been fun. The spring day was beautiful, flowers in the park in full bloom. The coffee shop made amazing egg salad sandwiches. Their conversation was pleasant.

So how she ended up over Roger's lap in his amazing bungalow was still in question. How she ended up with her skirt pulled up to her cotton panties as he smacked her bottom again and again until it the flesh was red and she was so warm she'd broken out in a full body sweat was truly a lapse of common sense. But his hands! His hands! Roger was a gentleman, even though her skirt had unceremoniously been yanked up to her waist so he could have better access to her shapely derrière. He hadn't even asked! But she loved it. Oh, how she loved it.

"I am so naughty, Roger," Monica cooed. "So very naughty."

"You are," Roger said, finishing the hand spanking and carefully lifting her to her feet. "Bend over and place your hands between the mattress and box."

"Wait. What?!" Monica exhaled. No one had told her to do this before. She wasn't prepared for something new. 

"Do it." He sounded serious. She looked at those piercing blue eyes. He was serious. Her rational mind completely gone, she stuffed her manicured nails between the mattress and box springs of his double bed. She heard a vvvvvrrrp sound. Catching a glance back, she saw him pull his belt off and he curled it in his hand, forming a loop.

"What are you going to do?" she asked, eyes wide with genuine surprise.

"Show you how naughty you truly are, young lady." And with that, Monica got her first intense strapping of her life, just as Tom jumped to his feet, spilling his red and white striped bag of peanuts onto the concrete steps of the stadium, the home team bringing in two runs to tie the game.