Thursday, March 31, 2011

Damn You Autocorrect!

If you have a smartphone chances are you've encountered your own embarrassing, ridiculous and/or hilarious autocorrect misfortunes as you text. You can have a laugh at these at Of course, I had to have one of my own today:

Monday, March 28, 2011

Brittanic Honeymoon: Collaborative FIction Part 2

This is the second installment of a work of collaborative fiction between Lizzie and myself. The first one can be found on her site here.  Enjoy!

The docking procedure took longer than the actual time it took to get to the Cruise Port. The shuttle slowed and Kelsey and Alec leaned over to look out the small porthole to see the Brittanic docked to the port’s superstructure floating in space.  Earthside shuttles were pulling up to the port, as were other craft from Spaceside locales.  Cargo ships pulled away, having unloaded their manifests.

The Brittanic was enormous, shiny and amazing to see in person. It was one of the largest space cruise ships in operation. Kelsey instantly began jumping up and down in her seat like a small kid when she saw the ship fill the view window.  Even though Alec traveled extensively, he had never seen anything like it.

* * *

“Look! We’ve got floor-to-ceiling windows!” Kelsey said, pressing the button to open the drapes on the touchpad. Out the window, the steel from the Port’s superstructure obstructed any kind of view, but Kelsey didn’t care. “This is amazing!”  She turned on the Wall and an entire surface of the room came to live with dimensional media—the cruiseship’s onboard 3D channel.  “Oooh!  The whole wall!”

Alec was unpacking his bag, a crooked smile on his face, enjoying watching Kelsey explore their suite.  The Wall hadn’t been on more than 30-seconds and The Sitch came up, both Kelsey and Alec’s social network connections that had parallels with people aboard the Brittanic displayed in a rotating, dimensional network.  Alec saw blue ink blots blossom on the parts of the web that connected to the Brittanic. There were others aboard that shared similar interests to them. Distracted from his unpacking, he gestured at the Wall and zoomed into the blots.  There were faces and bio profiles floating in front of him.

“Look, Kelsey,” Alec said gesturing at the faces until they filled the wall. “There are others into spanking and stuff too.”  That stopped Kelsey from looking around in the bathroom.

“Oh?” she said, coming into the room.

“Look. At least five other couples. Could be fun…”

“Maybe later,” Kelsey said. “I still have a concussion from where you hit my head into the door frame when you carried me over the threshold.” She giggled and covered her face with her hands, trying to stifle her laughter.

Alec spun around, smiling broadly. “It was an accident!” he demurred. “The doorway is narrower than normal!”  Kelsey giggled again.

“Yeah, yeah. Sure, sure.” Kelsey hopped onto the kingsize bed.  “This suite is amazing! I love you so much Alec.” Alec walked over to her and held her face in his hands, kissing her passionately on the lips.

“I love you too.” Alec’s strong hands were on her shoulders, pushing her down onto the bed.

“What are you doing?” Kelsey inquired, a smile creeping across her lips.

“It’s our honeymoon.  I have official duties.”

“’Official duties’? You make it sound like it’s a job! Besides, it’s only 4! We haven’t even launched yet!”

“You think I’m going to make love to you, Kelsey? No, no. That’s tonight. You’re just going to have to wait.” He lifted her chin and looked her in the eyes.  She moved her head into him and closed her eyes. Surprisingly, he slapped her cheek. Her eyes flew open in shock.

“What did I do?!” she said.

“You married me!” Alec sat down on the side of the bed and grabbed Kelsey roughly but playfully, manhandling her across his lap. “Tonight it’s something else. Right now, it’s about reminding you what brought us together in the first place.” He couldn’t see her face, but she was grinning from ear to ear, raising up to present her shapely bottom to him.

He spanked her through her Memor-tex™ pants. Kelsey breathed with the swats, relishing each hit.  Alec warmed her up well as a dimensional promotion for the casino aboard the ship played in the background. A few minutes later, the Memor-tex were off and Alec was spanking his new bride’s bare bottom, his hand cupping to create a thud, flattening out for a good solid spank or simply using his rigid fingertips for a painful sting.

“Hey!” Kelsey said, the pain building.  Alec stopped and traced his fingertips across her reddening flesh.  He leaned down and kissed her bottom, flicking her skin with his tongue. “Aren’t you saving that for later?” He dipped his fingertips between her legs, touching her wetness.

“Seems like you’re ready for ‘tonight’ right now,” he said.

“Yeah…kinda…” Kelsey said sheepishly.

Just then, there was a harmonic chiming sound in the cabin and Kelsey noticed out of the corner of her eye the Port structure beginning to move away.

“We’re moving!” Kelsey said. “Let’s go up to the Panorama Deck!”

Wednesday, March 23, 2011

Spankin' Time!

If you're a regular reader of my blog you'll know at one point or another I'll post just about anything odd that strikes my fancy--kink or no.

This time, one in context! (Woo-hoo!)

I know people like to showcase pop culture references to kink and spanking, so I thought I'd share.

Cartoon Network has a very odd cartoon on called Adventure Time. My son and I love the show because, well, it's just plain weird. Watching an episode on our DVR last night we came across this ep that features a prominent spanking sequence.

See for yourself:

Spankin' Time on Comedy Central's "Adventure Time"

Monday, March 21, 2011

Britannic Honeymoon: Collaborative Fiction Part 1

The first installment of the collaborative fiction piece between Lizzie and me. Next week I'll run the next installment on my blog and back and forth we go until you're bored or we're finished, whichever comes first. Hope you enjoy...

Sunday, March 20, 2011

Random Tidbit: Fortune Cookies for your C***

News Flash!

Randomly, I heard from Lizzie today that tampons now have inspirational messages on them! 

"Keep a Clear Head" 

is one. 

"Neither one of us are giver uppers" 

is another. (Not sure what that means and it makes me wonder, is the tampon speaking to the user? Like, they're having a conversation? Are friends?) 

So they're like fortune cookies for your, um, privates. Well, not mine, but yours, if you have a period.

Does it come with an almond cookie?

Like all fortunes in fortune cookies, adding "in bed" to them (as suggested by Jada) could be an option, right?  Keep a clear head in bed.  Neither one of us are giver uppers in bed. That seems to work. Particularly for tampons. I think.

The big question is this (drum roll please...): If you use one of these new inspirational message tampons will you be hankering for another an hour later?

Friday, March 18, 2011

New Story Coming Soon!

Lizzie and I have decided to start a collaborative spanking story. Here's how it'll work: she'll start the story and get to a good stopping point then I'll take it over for a section, then she will and so on. You'll be able to follow along on either of our blogs.

Hope it'll be fun and I hope you all will enjoy.

Wednesday, March 16, 2011

The Emperor's Concubine: Part III-FINAL

The Emperor motioned to The Chanter, who came over and tilted his head to hear the Emperor’s whispers.  The Chanter nodded his understanding.  “Round five.”

There were a few muted gasps in the room and even The Persecutor lost decorum for a moment to glace up at The Emperor.  His wish was to completely bypass  rounds three and four then?  Unusual…

The Persecutor pulled Kim roughly away from the bench as it silently slid back into the floor.  It was quickly replaced with a St. Andrews Cross that came down smoothly from above.  The Emperor began rubbing his hands together in anticipation.

Kim didn’t know what to expect. The Persecutor waved his hand over a sensor and the gravity turned off on the floor of the pit.  Kim floated up a few feet and spun her arms and pedaled her legs for a moment until her limbs caught up with her brain. She floated there for a moment as she watched her tormentor put on a special pair of boots that he clamped shut over his feet.  He trudged into the pit, staying anchored to the ground. He reached out and grabbed her waist, pulling her to him.  He kissed her on the nape of the neck, sucking her skin and then licked her cheek.  She was disgusted.  He spun her around midair and grabbed her around the waist and began to spank her.  She tried to push away, but with nothing to leverage herself against she was almost powerless.  His strong arm slapped her bare bottom again and again, making loud smacking sounds in the chamber.

This went on for minutes, variation upon variation. At one point The Persecutor had Kim upside down as he spanked her, and he chose to spread her legs and bury his face between them for a moment to “kiss” her there as well.  She squirmed but knew not to scream or fight too much.  From the corner of her eye she could see The Emperor stand and walk to the edge of the pit to gain a closer look.  The Persecutor fingered Kim and The Emperor nodded approvingly.

The Persecutor moved jerkily in his boots to the implement box and pulled out a long fuck stick—a pole with a phallus on the end—and spun it in the air like a martial artist with a bo staff.

The Emperor leaned closer.  “Yessss….”

The Persecutor slid the tip of it into Kim and floated upside down in the pit.

Uncontrollably, a little moan escaped her lips.

Just then, The Persecutor moved the fuck stick in a flash, raising it in an arc through the air, sliding the phallus from its sheath to reveal a long, samurai-like blade hidden inside. In one simple, spinning move the blade hummed through the air and was behind The Persecutor’s back in a flash. He slammed his gloved fist down on the gravity sensor, the floor of the pit dropping away suddenly, and Kim and her torturer dropped from view like a hapless couple in a runaway elevator.

Everyone stood in shock at what happened, then someone screamed. The Emperor’s body fell to the ground next to the pit, his head rolling in the direction of The Chanter, leaving a weaving, smeared line of blood across the glowing amber floor.

The guards realized what had happened just as everyone else was.  Suddenly, there was chaos.  The guards ran to the edge of the pit, but it was do dark beneath and they knew the gear and equipment underneath were rigged with antigrav equipment that went down 30 meters or more.

* * *

By the time the guards sent word of the assassination of The Emperor moments later and the entry doors into the equipment room beneath the torture theatre blasted open, The Persecutor and Kim were long gone. Long-range sensors scanned in every direction and two pulse trace tails were found and investigated, but no craft and certainly no people were found.

Days later, computer audit of key card accesses discovered a pattern: Kav Dov, employed by the Castle as a Persecutor, had been seeing the Emperor’s concubine for months. Nothing else is known.

Monday, March 14, 2011

Hot Chrossed Blog

Well, I guess it was bound to happen sooner or later. After more than a year and a half of my blog, I finally got Chrossed at the end of last week. I always see Erica "carrying on" ;-) on her blog about getting Chrossed and I thought, "What's the big deal?" Now I know.

When I first got the news I assumed it was about my last post, Creepy McScenekill. I thought, it was witty...humorous. Chross gets it. But then, when I went to check, I discovered it was about Beth's bruised bottom. No, Chross really gets it. Photos get Chrossed and Beth's bottom was great photo. I get it, too. No harm, no foul.

So, I guess I shouldn't've been surprised that as of!.....that post has received over 5,500 hits! And Creepy McScenekill? About 100. I had posted in More Strange Results that my blogs with pics did better results-wise than those of just words. I'm a writer (professionally and here), so it kinda hurts my feelings (yes, even tops have those) that people will go see a photo of Beth's perfect rear by a margin of 20:1 more than my best text blog entry. Oh well. Like I said, I get it.

Hopefully a new audience will see my words and decide to stay! If not, there's always the next scene...with a new implement--my camera!

Thursday, March 10, 2011

Creepy McScenekill

When I blogged about my scene with Beth ("You're my bitch!") about two weeks ago one of the things I didn't mention in it was the creeper who interrupted our scenes a few times. This "gentleman" appeared to be a newbie to the Lair and was there by himself. Now, I've experienced the likes of voyeurs while playing with my wife and Erica there. I've come to see a sort of M.O. for these guys (never women, FYI): stare intently (usually at the girl's naughty bits), stand too close, oblivious to personal space.

Once, when scening with my wife at the Lair, one of these creepers stepped into the open frame of the piece of dungeon furniture we were using and pushed past the both of us to go around to the far wall, inches from her, to get a better view. Completely nonplussed, I didn't know what to do at first, but eventually told the dude to back off. Later, I chewed him a new one after we were through.

So that Saturday a few weeks ago when Beth and I were playing was one of those times when someone entered the scene. Ish. Tall, older and distinguished looking with a beard he sat on the padded table adjacent to the one we were using. He leaned in to watch intently, particularly when I removed Beth's panties. Ugh! I glared at him a few times, hoping he'd get the point. Eventually, he shifted to a seat in front of Beth (most likely because I'd removed her dress and she was up on all fours on the padded bench).

Later I learned from Beth that she felt the guy's presence and it really took her out of the moment. Dammit! If I'd known that I wouldn't have been so gracious to let the guy "hang out" on the table next to us. (In the chair there's really nothing I could do other than perhaps give out an old fashioned, "Take a picture, asswipe."

A bit later, Creepy McScenekill came back to position himself on the padded table next to ours. I was using a flogger at the time and needed space. But rather than tell him to get the fuck away I repositioned myself to deal with the potential safety issue that could result from an errant flogger fall smacking Mr. McScenekill in his face, knocking off his professorial glasses. I'm too nice of a guy. Me = shithead.

He was really leaning in at one point as I was working with a wartenberg wheel and some rather pointy knives, when I'm at my most intent and focused. But I'd finally had it when I looked over to see just how close he was and then realized he'd kicked off his shoes and was in his stocking feet (who the hell says, "stocking feet" anymore??? have I turned into my grandmother???). He'd must have kicked off his shoes. Why? To get more comfortable in his leering? Jesus Murphy!

But what really knocked me for a loop was his stinky sox (I have no way of telling if they were actually stinky, but I imagine they were in my ultra-irritated imagination) resting on my carefully laid out implements! Now, I put my implements on a white towel, partially for the contrast to see them better in the dark but mainly because I want to protect them from whatever diseases and protein spills might be deeply embedded in the dark carpet of the Lair, so the last thing I want is this jagoff's feet touching them!

"Um, excuse ME!" I said, stopping what I was doing to Beth's tortured backside. "Get your feet off my implements!"

"Oh, excuse me," he said, pulling his feet up but not moving or shifting away an inch. I stared at him incredulously. One. Two. Three. He was mesmerized by Beth's physique.

"Why. Don't. You. Go. Over. THERE!" I said, pointing to the chairs that line the wall of the small room off the kitchen. He got up and moved. I went back and attended to Beth and we had a great scene, regardless.

But who does that? Let's say you've never been to a dungeon before. You don't know the protocol. Even still, common sense and a sense of decency would suggest you not do the things he pulled!

Later, in comparing notes of our night, my switch wife Gia Belle and I discussed Creepy McScenekill and she reported he'd interrupted a few other scenes in much the same way. And then had the audacity to act like he and she were old buddies later in the kitchen! Fed up, she reported the incidents to the DM, who told the dude he had a 6-foot diameter "stay-away" zone rule put on him, yet before the night was through he was back up close and personal to someone else's scene.

I don't get it. Are these voyeurs just utterly mesmerized/hypnotized by the stuff in front of them? Do the have some form of Asperger's? Do they just not get out much?? I don't know, but back off, McScenekill! I'm not going to be so nice next time!

Sunday, March 6, 2011

Beth's Bruised Bottom

No boasting. No glorifying. Here's Beth's bottom a day or so after our play last weekend. As I mentioned in my post on our scene last week ("You're My Bitch") Beth swears she never used to bruise. Now, every time we play--regardless of how hard it seems--she bruises.

So I was not shocked when I got this photo. But I was amazed. I told her, "Your bottom looks like it had a stencil put around it and then you dipped it in Easter egg dye" (as I'd posted earlier).

No not boasting or bragging, I will admit to one thing I'm rather proud of: look at the evenness and accuracy of the markings. I kinda impressed and surprised myself, which as anyone of you who know me can attest is a genuine reaction.

Enjoy, appreciate, look away, whatever. Beth sent it to me, Beth was happy to have me post it and share our scene with all of you.

Thursday, March 3, 2011

To Post Or Not To Post: A Purple Butt Question

After our scene Saturday night, Beth told me her bottom was pretty bruised. (Interestingly, she said she never used to get bruised, but since her hiatus in the lifestyle she's bruising every scene.) She sent me a photo of her bum. I immediately noted two things (aside from the fact she has a very nice bottom): 1.) her bottom was thoroughly bruised from top to bottom, edge to edge and, 2.) it looked like she'd placed a stencil over her butt and dipped her rear into a purplish/magenta Easter egg dye.

Which leads me to my question to you all: should I post the photo?

Beth sent it to me with that intent, but I'm torn. I don't want to come off like I'm bragging about it and I don't want to create the impression that I am glorifying bruising in some way (though, as you might see, I am rather proud of my accuracy!).

What do you think? Post it or no?