Shadow Lane Party Report, April 2005

Here's an editor's note now that I'm done: I didn't intend for these to read like "The Memoirs of a Casanova," please don't get the idea that I have – or think I have – some weird mystical power over women or some super-spy-secret musk-like scent that would make them lose their senses. The women are both attractive and nice, I had a good time – a great time, in fact. But there were a dozen or more attractive women I would have played with, given the chance, some of whom I didn't even speak to, and probably twenty or more hours each day when I wasn't playing but still enjoying myself…

Okay, I wanted to record every detail start to finish and maybe I will eventually but Erica is demanding results and I've always felt when it comes to ShadowLane parties she has a certain right to do so (since she makes them so enjoyable for us)…

Then I thought maybe I'd just hit the highlights – getting to see and play with some friends like I'd been looking forward to, playing with not one but two video vixens on the very brink of stardom, not one but two truly funny elevator stories, making friends with a whole collection of new couples, getting to play and visit with Dolores for twelve minutes, actually getting a Sadie Hawkins invitation, finally getting to play with the irrepressible Anaia, and meeting and flogging the lovely Geldana… glossing over the absence of five of my favorite women (I didn't realize I had so many favorite women that five could be missing!)… editing out a few perfect moments not suitable for posting…

But, of course, some must precede others, or my audience would be lost, so…

We've got a suite for this party for a couple of reasons: one, gas is $3 a gallon and I work for an oil company, I have to consume conspicuously. Also, we want to have people over if we want, even though we don't actually have a party planned. And I don't really like the confines of a hotel room for multiple days, and with Cat and my opposite schedules one and usually both of us is always in there… so we did.

Before I get to Friday night, I have to say that this is a little different party for me, I guess they've been moving in this direction but it gets continually more noticeable. At my first party four years ago, I stayed at a different hotel, I showed up around 8 on Friday night (not wanting to be the first person there), practically every person was a stranger despite my networking, and, even though I wasn't desperate to play, every single interaction was fraught with significance – who likes me? Who doesn't? What do I need to be saying or avoiding saying? I left Sunday afternoon with a flurry of goodbyes and a page full of e-mail addresses.

This party, I show up early on Thursday to a room that's been booked for months, see Ann before we even get to the check-in, have dinner with friends, and catch up with Moonchild (Sue) even before the scheduled party that night. I still really enjoy meeting new people but there's no element of competition anymore, which is fine by me. If we don't get a chance to play, there'll be plenty more opportunities… (especially when they live in Southern California…)

So Friday night we go to the Vendor's Faire, which has a Western theme and of course we run into everyone we know. I start with Ian the London Tanner because Cat has her heart set on a leather paddle and a lot of his stuff can sell out fast and no one else's will do… Is Cat naughty? This is how naughty, she's buying this paddle with her birthday money from her mom…

Speaking of money, we get small bonuses at work paid out in gift checks – like traveler's checks. I always save mine for party admission – I mean, these bonuses are supposed to be a motivator, got to spend them on something you really want, don't you?

Ian has a very attractive new date, smart and classy, I won't use her name, but he's the first of many guys we know to be paired up for this party. Cat's wearing a skort so her skirt can come up and she still has like bicycle shorts on under it. So we test a paddle or two just on her shorts – I always ask first, even if I know it's okay, but Ian says go ahead, go ahead. She can't decide – not because she wants more testing – one's lighter and stingier and the other one's heavier but I know that before too long the light one will be too light so I say go with the heavy one. Then the heavy one has like a birthmark on the leather that the light one doesn't – I'm about to do some more "testing," and believe me, Ian's got more than just little paddles… so the heavy one it is.

I've put on some Western clothes for this, a farm-boy plaid shirt and cowboy boots which I actually own, and I've just gotten a pair of quirts so I'm carrying one, since it goes with the theme. Quirts are terribly severe so I explain this one away as being "a hearing aid for a brat."

I mention the Western theme because we almost immediately run into Brandon, dressed in a black leather vest and a cowboy hat, not even looking like a Village-People refugee like my description makes it sound. Brandon just got old enough to attend parties a year or so ago and he's a friend of Cat's; he's also been already captured by a very lovely new lady who is in this fabulous saloon girl costume – I can't do it justice but it's this shimmery light brown metallic fabric with lace trim and netting around the top, some gatherings at the bottom, low-rise heeled black boots, flowers behind each ear… and, rather than bring it up later, authentic-looking beige bloomers - I hope they aren't silk, she was getting spanked on them – and red fishnet tights.

So we hang out with them for awhile and when it gets late people start to make some plans. Dana Sprecht is handing out licks to one and all in the middle of the dance floor, and Brandon and his lady, plus our room-neighbors and two other new couples decide all eight of them will get in line. Once they're done, though, they're sort of thinking maybe a room party is not what they're looking for, so the five of us couples are going up to our suite instead. With Brandi and her guy we have the adjoining room, too. We add James and his very lovely but very shy date on the way out of the Vendor's Faire.

I have some liquor, no mixers, and the snacks we didn't eat in the car on the drive in. We spend five minutes straightening the bed and stuffing clothes out of sight and I take my two toy bags and dump them on the five-foot by five-foot coffee table. So much for party planning. Nobody cared in the least.

So you know how it is – the women, pretty new to all this, walk in, take one look at the table and say – I wonder what that feels like? And that… and that… and that… but I'm a little reserved in party situations to start with and most everyone else is all the more so. Brandon gives it his best effort, suggesting some party games, but I'm worried that some of the women might not want to be put in the position of playing with someone not of their choice (like me, since I am quite a bit older than some of them). So, since we are all sitting next to our dates, I suggest we just start with that. As I said, Cat's wearing a skort so I spank her over those.

So here we are, sitting in a big circle around this big, toy-laden coffee table, each spanking our dates with some degree of modesty. At least, I assume everyone is, I'm a little too occupied to look. But everyone seems to be enjoying that. Brandon has a new strap he's trying out some and then couple #3 had a newly-purchased old razor strop so she moves over to the bed and they try it there. Even through her jeans she feels it enough for some priceless expressions.

Brandi, it turns out, is a pretty heavy player – I think she's making a video with Dallas this week, if that gives you an idea, so something of an exhibitionist as well. They're using the area between the bed and the windows for a little privacy so that she can take her jeans down but then after she's been caned quite a lot everyone wants to see and she wants to show off how little she marks. She's really cute, whenever she isn't actually being swatted she sits on her boyfriend's thigh, looking at him with this mooning, longing, when-can-I-get-spanked-next look on her face.

We do have a moment of panic when couple #4 is using the bed-window area and Cat gets out the camera to take a picture of the view of the Strip (we're on the 27th floor). The poor girl hears "camera" and "view" and figures it was time to stop and check things out but it's all cool.

Besides some playing, I know everyone's sitting around completely enjoying the company and the fact that they can talk about spanking freely without worrying what someone else will think. I can just feel the women indulging themselves in the relaxed atmosphere.

Then three other couples join us – Sue, Steve Fuller, Ann and Ed, Anaia, and a guy I don't know – he might be with Anaia or maybe he's just "drafting." Anyway, I "finally" get to play with Anaia – when I say finally, I'm thinking I've known her for over three years by now, things just never worked out before. I think everyone knows her – very cute, very petite, very English, with the typical English wicked wit, a tongue so sharp she doesn't need a steak knife. Even so, I'm amazed to get her over my knee and find that she's all the more petite "in person" – or "in position." Whatever she does to keep in shape, it's working, because her bottom has that perfectly smooth tone of a dancer – apparently underlain by a really thick layer of Kelvar. As always I start slowly, but even when I'm spanking the daylights out of her I can barely elicit a reaction. She's polite to me, which I appreciate, but makes some witticism about someone else, which I attempt to make her regret – somewhat hopelessly. We must be in an odd position because I'm literally panting like I've run a marathon, and while Anaia probably evokes this reaction a lot, it's a bit unusual for me. This convinces someone – I think it was lovely lady #3 – that I needed some assistance and provides some kind of wicked toy to help me out.

That changes things a bit. Anaia goes from pretending to be compliant to emulating an all-in wrestler. One of the advantages of youth and fitness is that you can move every body part in a different direction – all at once! I'm spending as much effort on keeping her in range as I am on laying down the law, but at least she's getting what she needs. When I'm finished she tells me it "wasn't bad for a warm-up" – but she does it from out of arm's reach, I notice.

In "hindsight" I'm hoping I didn't shock too many of our guests by playing with someone not my partner – I hadn't realized at the time that no one else had done so…

As we all know – and are reminded of one million times – Ann has a video shoot on Monday and she can't be spanked properly since she can't have any bruises. Somehow she thinks this will allow her to be a total brat all weekend with no consequences… like tops are no more resourceful that that! I've got a rubber strap that feels heavy but doesn't bruise at all, as Ann should be attesting to here… She's calling out "Steve! Hubby! Help me!" and he's saying "Don't bruise! Don't bruise!" Everyone monitors it and says I'm not using the strap very hard – she can tell – but she does NOT like it. Someone is sitting between us and James and his lady so I stand up and put her over my shoulder so they can check, too, but that doesn't last too long, I don't think Ann likes that, either! This is her third spanking from me in about twenty-four hours but it isn't like she's giving in much. She comes up with a new block that throws me off quite a bit and she says she'll use it in her video – and I tell her I'll be more than ready for it next time. So we'll see.

Some of the other ladies try out the rubber strap – this one was really crude, I didn't know how to cut and bevel rubber at the time – and they agree that Ann's protests were well-founded, but if we ever do see her report, she will have to admit that she had no bruises, and we didn't even use it wet like you're supposed to.

The next evening I see couple #4 in the elevator lobby and he's asking about it. Sue had said I needed to use it on Ann again and Ann said then Sue needed it too – so it's in my pocket. They're easy to make, I just wish I had a better one to give him, so now he has it. I'd love to hear what his lady thinks of it… though I've got a pretty good idea what she thinks of me… but she's probably not bruised, at least…

Sue's a little more private than our video star, so we wait for a lot of people to clear out… of course Brandi and beau just close the door behind themselves. Sue and I played the night before but when you live on opposite coasts you have to play when you get the chance (actually she was very patient with me all weekend, we should have played twice as much). I happen to know where her Moonchild screen name comes from and it's actually not a reference to her lovely bottom, which is, however, as round and pale as a full moon maybe fifteen minutes over the horizon. Or it is when we start. I take great pains to remedy that – or maybe I should say I give great pains… without the pressure of an audience we're able to have a nice, slow, long spanking that we'd both been looking forward to for weeks. And Sue is a smart girl – she knows when to make a sharp remark – and when not to! More later, believe me…

I no longer know what qualifies as an early night, but even with the party starting late, Cat and I have the room to ourselves by 1:00 or 1:30, it seems – or almost to ourselves. Brandi had said that the night before they'd interrupted their play to listen to us…

So that's the Friday night set-up to funny elevator story #1: the next night three of these same couples meet at our room before going down to Bob and Ariel's Saturday night blow-out. Dallas and his friend Vegas – a statuesque woman who I assume is a switch – are with us since he's courting Brandi for a shoot. We go out to the elevator and someone must be misbehaving because they're told they'll be getting it as soon as we get on. Well, that encourages all ten of us to see who can get the most swats between the 27th and 24th floors. The doors close, Dallas officiates and calls "begin!" Then the doors open – on 26! Three guys are standing there somewhat agape. They decide to catch the next elevator.

You know, I do think from time to time about how we must seem – not to outsiders, but to a lot of the newcomers. This is Thursday evening. Several of us are standing around in front of the Terrace Lounge, our meeting place at the base of the elevators. Most everyone has met each other and we're talking, though one young guy seems to just be watching from one of the circle of chairs. I'm standing opposite him, then Ann comes up.
Her: "So I checked in."
Me: "You want to go?"
And we're off. It must be a little confusing.


Okay, if anyone is still reading… this is the highlights. The report I wanted to write would be twenty times this long… so, forward! Forward!

Twelve minutes with Dolores. At first I called her The White Rabbit because she always seemed to be late for a very important date. Now I think of her as a quicksilver butterfly. You can hold her in the palm of your hand but if you try to close your hand she's gone. She's on a short schedule, coming in late and leaving early, and I also keep some sort of schedule, so of course they clash. I don't get to Saturday afternoon at Harry's, though I hear it was great, and I'm not sure how I miss her Saturday night except that I'm surrounded by attractive and fascinating ladies. So I beg her to let me take her to the airport – it's so easy from the Stardust if you have a car – and since we aren't going to have another chance, she relents.

Eleven AM she calls me. She has to pack and print her ticket and she'll be ready to play, check out, and go. This is fine. Honestly, I figure she'll pack, print, check out and go – but I can talk with her on the way to the airport, that's the important thing. Now I have to explain to you that the cell phone reception near the elevators in the Stardust is lousy, so we all have to be careful, especially if the schedule's tight.

Since I'm up and about and going to have to go out I wander down to the lobby for the needed coffee. There I see Dana talking to this absolute Goddess who I won't describe in case she doesn't look like Cat in one way or another. So I'm trying to catch Dana's eye, hoping for an introduction and when I don't get one I say something to her when they're finished. Turns out she's a photographer shooting spanking scenes because she likes to look at them… and very friendly. I happen to be getting very interested in photography (honest!) so she joins me for coffee.

After a bit I see Dolores heading toward the business center so I run her down to make sure she knows where I am, in case my cell phone doesn't pick up her signal. Then I come back and resume our conversation, figuring I'm about to head to the airport.

Then something happens that seems to happen a lot to me – I wish someone would explain it so I'd know if I'm doing something wrong or should just not worry about it – this guy comes along and completely hijacks this woman… okay, they have a shoot they're going to do but I can't seem to get a word in edgewise. Oh well, I wasn't thinking it was going anywhere from here, maybe that's why.

In any case Dolores comes by and I get up to leave, looking toward the parking lot – until she says "Okay, it's quarter till. I have to check out by noon. Let's go, right now." This is actually pretty typical. Camera girl decides to ride up with us and Dolores's reaction to her is the same as mine but she leaves us at our floor.

So we walk down to Dolores's room and the clock says 11:48. She says she's got to get out by 12 because she already got a late check-out and doesn't want to be charged for another day. You can get a lot of spanking into 12 minutes. I have to post this somewhere else, too, where you don't have to dig for it but she says tell the guys that when they spank their pinky should be at the undercurve of the bottom. Just so you know. Believe it or not we get about the right amount of spanking in and then she jumps up and says "gotta go," grabs her rolling suitcase and we close the door behind us at noon.

Leaving her at the airport is a little hard but she wants to get through security and they won't let me accompany her, plus I have a 2:00 brunch scheduled and I want to see Cat before then. She lives less than two hours away so we promise to get together – just like we did a year ago. Like a bead of quicksilver, all lovely curves but you can't see inside, no matter how you press or prod or even divide it.

2:06 – another favorite person I never see. She claims to be a switch and I believe her, since she certainly could use multiple spankings. She says guys are always coming out to her, telling her they've never revealed their sub-side to anyone. For some reason she wonders why. The night before when I wrote down her number not only did she check it to make sure I got it right, she asked how I'd remember it was hers and insisted I label it properly. Six minutes after I'm supposed to have called her she's standing in front of me asking why the call is late (I was looking for cell phone reception). Oh by the way she says she saw a lot of you at the 12:30 Mass with her.

She, her husband, and I retire to the inside bar for a drink and to discuss my writing – at least we would if we could keep on topic. She's both an exceptional critic and an inspiration. We have a great, great meeting.

I was about to write "now to brag a little" but I realize this whole report sounds like one long boast, with all its beautiful women and fantastic scenes but anyway… we were discussing self image and how many men and women see themselves differently – specifically, women are harder on themselves and men are more generous with themselves. Five minutes later she's saying "I've heard good reports about you as a spanker" and I'm thinking "well, that's nice" and she continues with "and no, I won't tell you from who(m)." I was like, from who? I just assumed it was a universal acclimation.

Gracious readers always say "thanks for the detail, I feel like I'm really there." Except that right now you're saying geez, what is this guy's problem, I don't know what day it is or if it's day or night… well, that's part of feeling like you're really there, believe me…

Sunday night I get to thinking about what a strong sexual vibe there is throughout the party. I've said before that something that's very noticeable - especially in Palm Springs when almost everyone is there for the party – is how happy everyone is, going around with big (big) smiles on their faces basically all the time. But there's something even beyond that. Men and women look at each other frankly and appraisingly but approvingly and appreciatively. Especially by Sunday night you can tell how many people are comfortable with how many others, ready to touch and be touched. What brings this to mind, actually, is that Sunday night a convention hit town, some kind of broadcast technology, which is a profession heavy with young single guys. As I'm walking out of the bar with three lovely ladies there's half a dozen guys staring glassy-eyed at the TV and I think, they have to be wondering how to jump from one group to the other – I sure would be. Don't get me wrong – I'm into the scene totally for my love of spanking, and I understand how and why women hate the "Will-Spank-For-Sex" guys, but if I were one of this other group I know I'd be thinking, whatever they're doing, I could do, couldn't I?

Hey, I got asked on Sadie Hawkins! Dee is a tremendously generous person, opening her suite every night to one and all, organizing the newbie dinner, I think she picked up the Brat's Breakfast for Krissygirl… and she managed to lose her voice Thursday night (not that that's ever stopped anyone from talking) and missed her own party, round 1. On top of all that she invited me to play – it's been years, literally, since a small party at EllieO's, I think she was pretty new back then… a Dee-lightful brat but also a popular one, by the time I take her across my knee she says "go easy, I have bruises" and I tell her "well, you must've been bad, then." I really don't play that hard in front of people but if her bottom stings like my palm, I think that's plenty hard enough. At least, when I get that ringing sensation that goes all the way up my arm and into my ears, it'd better be doing some good. And yes, I manage to avoid the bruises, I think they're mostly where she isn't used to being spanked, you know?

Don't let me give everyone the wrong idea, I don't exclusively play lightly. A local woman I see sometimes was over Thursday (that is, a week after the party) and had really done something wrong. With the help of a lot of lotion and some other skin-saving techniques she ended up getting four really difficult spankings and four more pretty difficult ones, among others…

By the way I saw the absolutely cutest brat at Dee's – she's on ShadowLane, new but seems to know everyone – Irish like right off the boat, with the perfect Irish smile, her upper lip has a great arch, I don't suppose she can pout even if she wants to… anyway, just a side note.

Funny story about Ann, I know she won't mind – she's about to shoot her video and we're running lines (script, not coke) down at the coffee bar. This guy comes by, sort of new, good looking, just her type, I know she knows who I mean. So he interrupts to say what a pleasure it was to watch her play, to which I respond with a plug for her video and he promises to buy one or more. The two of them are complaining that they switched off the country music before it was time to dance - like, to something people might like, if you ask me, but…

and someone must've already mentioned Ann's Saturday night ensemble – a confectionary peach – gown? – big dress with a Victorian design and petticoats or a hoop skirt or some kind of massive underpinnings. She was unquestionably a vision… but there's work to be done and I interrupt new guy to go back to working her lines. Don't worry, Ann, actually I do know what I'm doing, no guy has ever been disenchanted by an actress needing to work.

Back on the subject of actresses and Saturday night, you have to visualize this… Erica's in this little black dress, short – I suppose so it can come up most easily – showing off her shoulders and arms as well, and it's got these "vents" in it, little triangular-shaped openings on either side of her navel, gauze-covered but see-through, accentuating her figure I guess just in case it needs help… very nice, especially for those of us who occasionally see her from the front…

We have seldom, if ever, managed to sit with Erica and John for the dinner but this year we had our best chance ever – Cat has a long history of being late, late to the point of having trouble finding a seat (late to the point of having trouble needing a seat, in fact) so John tells us the dinner is a half-hour earlier than it's scheduled. At the same time Cat has turned over a new leaf and manages to get ready "on time" – in other words, for once we're there before the doors open. My apologies to Ann and Sue, we also got them there slightly early (not as early as us, thankfully!) Alas, things still didn't really work out, because we had an entire table of people we were sitting with so we staked out a large area on one side of the dance floor and Erica and John had many other people to be with so they were across the room (just like when we show up late!). And I'm not going to apologize about the cliques at ShadowLane, I think they/ we are a very open, welcoming group, but it's just impossible to interact with 300 people at once – we were at a ten-person table and I couldn't really converse with all of them, and Brandi and her guy were at the table behind my chair, so they could only talk to a few of us, and then it was an effort… plus even in our small group people have different goals, especially the single people and the couples.

So we're sitting at dinner, Cat looking straight ahead, lifting each bite to her mouth with the most regal of manners… actually it's her choker… for Christmas I bought her this choker-and-bracelets set, the choker is like a decorated slave collar, leather, a little wide, pointed at the throat, with beads dripping from it all around. There's matching bracelets but she was wearing these gauntlets, I guess would be the right name for them, instead.

The collar is very special, we exchanged vows over it, she said "I can't bend my neck, I swear I'm going to get you for this" and I promised she'd behave or find some way to bend somewhere at least… other than that it was just jewelry. Along with the black choker she's in this corset-front dress that looks like kink couture but we're busted by the bus girl the minute we walk in, she says "I love your dress, I have one just like it only it has gathers at the bottom, I got it at Hot Topic." Denis would have talked her into joining us after her shift but I'm not that smooth.

Anyway, the gauntlets, they were really the highlight of the ensemble, black elbow-to-wrist coverings with criss-crossed pink ribbons that matched the strings of the corset. Okay now I have to tease her a bit, we go to the store to get her some ribbon – actually for the corset to match the sleeves, rather than vice-versa – we find the right stuff and she says she needs twelve yards. That seems excessive to me and I look around to try to find an example of how long that is but she says she's used nine before and it was barely long enough. Now I may have fallen off a turnip truck but it wasn't yesterday, I know it's pretty senseless to argue. So we try to get twelve yards. Except they only have eight – in fact, there's only ten on a new roll. So they search for another roll, they're sure they had a big stack just recently, so many that they put them away someplace else until maybe some crazy lady would buy them – now they can't find them. Maybe they had a whole asylum stop by yesterday.

So we look at a thinner ribbon, it's eight yards to the roll and they have two uncut rolls so we get those and I figure we'll spice them together somehow. Meanwhile I say to get the wide ribbon, it's like $2.50 for the whole thing – except it isn't even eight yards, when she straps it out it's only four and a half. So for a buck and a half I have them throw that in. We now have over twenty yards of pink ribbon. The front of the corset is eighteen inches by twelve inches. If anyone wants to make a dress out of ribbon, call us.

As Erica said, the banquet is fabulous – this one is by far the best. The desserts look really good but I can't even have any and I hear several other people saying the same thing, we are just too full and that's without thinking about playing later. Our table has the usual suspects, much like the night before, with couple #3 next to us. I guess this is his second party but he met his girlfriend in just a conventional way and it turned out she was totally up for it – how cool is that? On top of that, this young lady looks like Diana – not the late Princess of Wales but the Greek woman in the pictures with the dogs. No, she's not Greek at all (I wouldn't think), she just looks like the pictures – on the tall side, athletic but in a totally good way; thick, thick blonde hair and wide eyes that look like they're gazing over the horizon. Which is totally funny because it turns out she's really near-sighted. If you want to know what the guys look like, ask Cat.

So Brandon, who admittedly is pretty cute, and his lady want to dance so she goes up and requests some Salsa. You know how some guys say they're switches when they're total bottoms? Well I think some women masquerade as switches when they're top through and through. I mean, we hear Salsa, now. And we can see why, the two of them really put on a show – apparently they met at Salsa lessons and turned out she had checked out the scene a bit, too! If this was one of Eve's novels I wouldn't believe it. So she's out there in her schoolgirl plaid skirt, twirling around with it flying out like a tutu… she really has lovely legs… then Denis's date, who is dressed the same (and glad she wasn't the only one!) joins in for a salsa-a-trois.

Speaking of Denis and Kasha, his date – the only word for her is delectable. Even compared to that fabulous dessert table she has some definite mouth-watering quality about her. A petite Ukrainian woman with a thick French accent and a designation of "Other" which she explains enigmatically as "my kink is a different one." How tasty is this woman? An unnamed friend, being spanked by Denis with her head in Kasha's lap, claims that she had to make him stop before she "violated her marital vows." Her audience sympathizes.

Now I don't even know what day it is but "Traci" shows up at like 10 PM one night. I'll admit I'm tremendously shallow and even if I didn't like her a lot I probably would have wanted to play with her anyway, just because she's got that "Almost Famous" buzz like an early Kate Hudson… mischievous, too… the fact is I do like her a lot, she has these deep, deep brown eyes and a gravity that just captures 100% of my attention. So I'm not only shallow I'm totally ADD (obviously) and not everyone does that. Plus, I think she and I both relate best to people one-on-one rather than in a group setting so I feel like we have something in common.

I first met her two years ago at the Alexis Park but only for a minute – and at the next two parties we talked but I didn't get to play with her until another party, which was great. Then last summer in Palm Springs we sort of missed each other and you know, I can never tell if it's intentional or just bad timing. Yes, guys do keep track of this sort of thing.

So I ask her if she wants to play one last time before she gets mobbed six guys deep by admiring fans, and she says she'd love to but with the video shoot coming up she has to be careful… I figure she's blowing me off but then she says so let's go, she knows I won't go overboard, which is cool… we go over to the couch and I put her over my lap, she's wearing jeans and a silver thong, I can see. I don't mind spanking over jeans but she's got her room key in her back pocket, that has to go. And these parties get crowded, we have to maneuver her feet out of Chelsea Pfeiffer's face, which CP appreciated… but once we get down to the task at hand… I don't know if she's been toning up for the video like Ann has – I guess I would, too – but she seems to be in better shape than ever. A natural tomboy, she's got long, narrow runner's legs with just enough of a bottom to keep her pleasantly feminine, and a little waist, so it looks like her jeans would slide right down, though I am pointedly informed that they do not. So she has to get up long enough to unfasten them. I'm sure the video will show that she looks even better without them.

I continued to spank her, on her bare bottom now, until she gets a sort of dark red. I'd been being really careful with Ann and Traci is at least as fair, I don't really think I could bruise with my hand but I've been surprised before and when it's too late it's too late. So I tell her we'd better stop and I just rub in what I've already done, to which she has no objection at all. Ten minutes later she's accosting me because I still have her room key in my pocket, pardon me for forgetting but my mind was on other things (I told you I was distractible).

You know I'm sitting here thinking, there's lots of women in the scene that I counsel about hearing and accepting compliments. A lot of us get compliments but dismiss them or explain them away or listen for any kind of qualification that maybe we're not perfect and that's what we remember. I'm starting to wonder if I do that – if I do you'd think I'd have less confidence and maybe in some situations I do. What brings it to mind is that Traci made it a point to say how nice it was to play, later, well after we were done, and that was nice. I mean, people always say that but I think sometimes we (I) don't hear it.

Back to the report.

As everyone always says, Bob and Ariel's is the highlight of the party, but to me it's more like Bob and Ariel. Once we got to know one another Bob has always made a point to hunt me down to say hello and please stop by, even though we usually see each other within minutes of arriving – this year I ran into him around four on Thursday. Of course, two hours away from home I'd remembered that I had bought Ariel a present and left it home – I put it with the stuff I usually pack (so I wouldn't forget it) and then brought different stuff – how I forgot something after loading the car down to the gunwales, whatever those are, is beyond me. And I've been busy since I've been home so it goes in the mail tomorrow.

You know how it is, you're walking through someplace and you see something that is just perfect for one unique person – and Ariel is definitely a unique person… we've shared some very enjoyable meals with them, in addition to their parties. Bob gave Cat quite a spanking with a leather paddle/strap – I complained that she always tells me she can't play that hard but she said with the help of some fine down-home bourbon and one layer of protection (she doesn't wear shorts at home) she can take a little more – and that it was louder than it was hard. I think Mark was the only other guy to spank Cat, and with Toluca Girl having to stay home, no girls…

Must've been Saturday night, we showed up at Bob and Ariel's with eight other people and got them settled, or so I thought, then Cat went off with Mark and Katie and I left with Sue to find Dee's party. When we got back everyone was gone except Vegas – I'd known Brandi and her boyfriend were in their room because Sue and I went by there to play, I don't know if Dallas was with them, for all I know they were already filming or maybe just rehearsing. But before too long Brandon and his lady return with digital pictures of her topping the female half of couple #3 and then f.h.o.c.#3 topping her. Cat returns and goes off with them to top Brandon. The four of us intend to get together but it was a busy night and they going to try to leave early Sunday, but they live close by so we'll see.

Yes, I skipped a step, between Point A and Point B Sue did find herself across my knee with half my toy bag being applied to her Point C. She claims that for some reason her pain tolerance is really down so eventually I switch to a really light paddle but it stings which is just as bad as hurting. It's really loud, however, and I tell her that Brandi's listening next door so she does shout "help! He's killing me!" in hopes that it will preclude my needing to smack her so loudly. We never did ask Brandi… but you know, I don't know if it's the gradual approach or she just quits complaining but I have this new two-layer strap – it's doubled but I use the "open" ends so it's really very heavy – and she manages okay, even for a while. We'd talked about playing really heavily and I brought a paddle that would have kept an entire reform school under control but we never get to use it. Maybe next time.

Back at Bob and Ariel's I finally catch up with a woman I'll call Geldana, not that it has anything to do with her, it's just a name I've given her. We'd had dinner together the night before, when we met, since she's a friend of Mark's date, Katie. I'd had ribs which make a mess and she's giving me a hard time as she is wont to do so I promise to wash my hands before I spank her for which she says thanks. But then I lose track of her that night because of our guests and she was not amongst them.

Here's another person I felt very comfortable with from the first minute, I don't exactly know why. She's very literal like a lot of the scene community and very left-brained, she claims, where as I am more mixed-brain as you can tell from this report. Plus maybe it was the party but my brain was not firing on both cylinders whereas hers certainly seemed to be. Maybe she has a very short personal distance or something.

And here's an example along with funny elevator story #2. I have a collection of t-shirts – my latest is from American Eagle and says "Paddywhackers Rugby Team." Everyone's seen the one that has a kayak in whitewater on the front with "Life's short…" – on the back, in 4-inch high letters it says PADDLE HARD. Then there's Bettie Paige by Olivia with a red quirt in her teeth – the teenaged clerk in Starbuck said she liked that one… and one for a brat that instead of saying "No Fear" says "No Fair"… and the ubiquitous S.W.A.T. … so I have this one from Hot Topic, I love it because it's obviously a mainstream t-shirt from the mall, probably Happy Bunny if you know who she is…

I've got it on Sunday morning and I'm heading down for a cup of coffee. I get on the elevator where there's a young guy and two young women who are not with the party and the one girl says to me, in a perfectly loud voice, "Do you mind if I touch your butt?"

Her friends look like they've gone into shock and one of them says "Jennifer! Have you lost it!?! He's a total stranger!" And Jennifer is saying "His shirt! That's what his shirt says!" (I told her "not at all but thanks for asking first.")

I've got this shirt on and I'm wandering by the pool where Geldana is sitting with Katie and Mark and OTK David and she takes one look at it and says "No." Nice and direct.

So as I said, I finally catch up with her at Bob and Ariel's right around closing time. Everybody knows that when Bob says the party's over at 2 that we're going to be out in the hall by 2:01. He's very fair about it, he gives ten-minute and five-minute warnings but when it's time to move it's time to move. Anyway G's sitting next to me but she's promised to meet someone. I come really close to saying "well, you just got lucky" but it isn't the right remark for her, I don't think.

But this guy is who-knows-where with who-knows-who and I'm right here so she says well I'll go with you but you have to flog my back because that's what this guy was going to do. Okay, I can do that. Plus, see, she came by our room while I was at Ann's and saw the big blue suede flogger laying out and has been wanting to try it which is why I left it laying there.

I've always wanted to get a book on flogging and a decent flogger in case there is something I'm missing but come on, how hard can it be? Especially in this case, she's lying face down, it'd be like trying to miss the floor. (Okay, I just read where Erica says it's difficult so either pick your partners wisely or have them do something easy like this.)

I didn't go back and count but I know I keep saying this. Okay, Dolores is dark-haired and tan, Anaia has auburn hair and is tan, I think, and of course Cat has an olive complexion, but yes, Geldana is another tremendously fair woman, not only by birth but she lives up north where it's still winter – or always winter, for all I know, you're not getting me up there to find out. She's wearing a lightweight spaghetti-strap number in black for the Saturday night dinner and is trying to decide if it needs to come down from the top or up from the bottom. I immediately say down from the top which is easier though up from the bottom probably would have gotten it off of her entirely so maybe I'm not so smart. Anyway she lies face down across the foot of the bed with her dress around her waist right at the top of her black panties, reaches back and unfastens her strapless bra. Her dark blonde hair just touches the base of her neck and she holds it up for me. Her shoulders and back are bare and barely dark enough to be called ivory.

We had looked at the floggers, one is very stingy though light and the other is heavy, I've got nothing in between. The heavy one I made when I managed to come up with a large amount of electric blue suede, so it's soft and the tails are wide and square and that looked good to her. To get started I wrap it around my hand a couple of times to shorten it up where I can control it – hey, I don't pretend to be an artiste. Like I said, it's falling downward and it's heavy so it's not rocket science, I get a nice rhythm going and she relaxes into it. I let it out longer or shorten it up, bring it in from one side or the other, top or bottom. Standing below her hip I have my fingertips on the edge of her dress and the waistband of her panties and between the dry air and the whirling suede, with every third stroke a spark jumps between us. Later I move up toward her head and put my hand on her neck and ear just to be safe and continue from that angle. I stay away from her bottom, not just because I don't want to take a chance on snagging her dress but because she says it's sore from Bob strapping her and when I see them play again Sunday night I get an idea just how sore she must be, he whaled the tar out of her with a long perforated strap. But that was what she wanted then and this is what she wants now. I hope it doesn't hurt because it goes on for a long time and she just soaks it all up, not in a defiant way, just very calmly.

Well at some point I stop – how do people judge these things? It's not like she's at her limit or something so I just pick a time to stop. Even the suede has irritated her skin a little so I get some lotion and rub it between my hands to warm it up. Her back is still tense which is surprising because she's looked so relaxed the whole party but her life is very stressful. I knead out what I can… it's three AM as I walk her back to her room and go look for Cat…

Now the party's over and I'm convinced I'm getting soft spending all this time nesting with Cat so I go out and buy some wrist-weights. I'm thinking this way I can get a little exercise even while we're sitting around watching movies or something. They're just five pounds for the pair but I'm sure with extended use they'll make a difference. And as soon as I get them on I have to try smacking Cat – wow, what a difference! (she reports) Much, much more power – now this was through her dress since I am just testing it but she says it has a lot more thud, no sting, and I'm not even using it hard. If you want to try this, get the pellet-filled kind that lie flat against your wrist – the "weight-adjustable" ones have round lead bars. Sometimes the weight right at the base of your wrist can come in contact with her bottom and you want a flat surface there, not a corrugated one.

Is there more? Of course there's more – a trip to the public library for Cat's tax-filing extension form, some very enjoyable time at the Hard Rock casino, a showgirl looking just like I would have designed her myself given the chance… a Jacuzzi tub and separate, party-sized, glassed-in shower… a city with one thousand restaurants and fifty great ones while we eat more than ten meals in the Island Café… seeing the Belagio fountains from our window… wondering if the new Wynn casino will have a partner on the south end of the Strip, the Wynn-Dixie… more money spent on toys than on slots… another party in September and the need for a communal plan for next – when, January? Hope you can be there.