Our Latest Object d' Art

We managed to pick up this delightful little object at our favorite LA flea market one weekend recently – it appeals to me in so many ways.



First of all, I'm a fan of "found porn" – unintentionally pornographic-looking or sounding items that may very well have innocent purposes in life as well... and a practical extension of this, household objects with naughty applications.

In addition to this, I actually do like the black leather/ chrome/ rubber combination and the geometric, graphic design shape. This does almost qualify as a work of art, and is at least as attractive as plenty of other WOA's I have seen in my life.



It's pretty unique, and with all the opportunities we all have to fill the house with items that are far from unique, I like to reserve my space for items that really are a little bit special; and, getting back to my first point, it clearly can't be what it appears to be on first glance (or I wouldn't have it on open display...)

In case you're still wondering, these are stoppers for wine bottles. To the best of my knowledge they have never been used for BDSM play.

Uncanny Caning

Well, I'm no expert, that's for sure, but I know how to give a very enjoyable caning, and would be glad to hear from others who have suggestions. First of all, this is a caning to enjoy, not to fear, so it all depends on what you want. We have two canes, a medium and a thin. Both of them work best if you kind of "wave" them so that they flex on their own. That gives a fast, sharp little tap. The medium has a deeper feel and is more difficult to get swaying on its own. The thin one is easy and is all surface sting but can sting a lot. Men should start with the medium (as a caner) and women the thin unless you have very strong wrists.

If you're starting out I'd suggest lying flat on the bed - it's a lot more tolerable. If this isn't enough, you can put a pillow under your hips. Sometime if you want it worse you can be on your knees which'll tighten your bottom, or stand and grab the seat of a chair with your knees straight (maybe legs slanted slightly forward), and then it gets harder as you bend farther, putting your elbows on the chair or grabbing behind your knees or grabbing your ankles. Except that you have to be over 18 and no one over 18 can actually grab their ankles, but it sounds scary, doesn't it?

So you're lying flat, let's say, and your considerate spanker is flicking this cane. After a few vicious cuts through the air to get your adrenaline going, he holds it just off of your bottom and snaps it lightly so it smacks you. You'd better let him know how much sting you're feeling because it seems like, from his end, that he's doing it way too lightly. Ideally, he holds his hand right where the cane will come down just on the near cheek and then whip forward onto the far cheek. Otherwise the far cheek has all the fun. Yes, it takes some practice and communication, if you can both overcome the embarrassment of the bottom giving that much feedback.

He should smack you in this very stingy way maybe 100 times or maybe twice that so your bottom has a good (intense) overall sting. Then what I like to do would be something like "twenty by twenty," where he gives you twenty sharp little strokes. After that, he brings his wrist back - his arm doesn't have to move - and gives you one good hard quick smack. It will seem like just a good little flick to him but on your end it'll be like a bolt of lightning! Meanwhile, he goes back to the little strokes. I'm told this works best if the new little strokes are away from the bigger stroke because otherwise they take the sting out of the bigger stroke. As the name implies, this repeats 20 times - or whatever you want, of course.

As far as placement, of course sensitivity is distributed about the same as everything else, with the medium-low part of the bottom being able to enjoy the most of it. But if you're doing it right, you can use it all over. I would keep the hard strokes away from the back of the knees by about four inches on top and a couple on bottom and probably a good eight inches above the heels. On the back avoid hard strokes on the area between the ribs and the top of the hips.
For this type of caning I like to hold the cane with my thumb on top so that it flexes over the end of my thumb. "Proper" grip for serious correction is probably completely different and I think can be seen at the SixOvTheBest website. The whole process is very tiring on the wrist so you may want to have sessions get longer with practice.

You'll probably like the light strokes so well you'll want to get them on the front, too. If you lie on your back I'd keep even the light strokes above the knee and below the throat. If you're nervous at first you can wear a bra - thin fabric doesn't seem like it'd be much protection but we all know that's an "old wives tale."

Please try this and post how it worked out - with photos and vid clips if possible. That way if you're making any serious mistakes we can help you correct them!

I Met This Guy On Line...

Some of my thoughts on women dating through the scene personals (Another re-post some of my friends may recognize).

I heard another one to add to my list this weekend – to a list that already includes "e-mail," "afternoon," and "discrete," we'll add "I don't have a phone." What's this a list of? How about euphemisms for "I'm married."

If you get tangled up with a ring-finger fink, as I call them, someone who's married or involved but not admitting it, about all that you can tell yourself is that it wasn't you who did anything wrong, it was him, entirely.

Just because a person places a personal ad, or places one on the internet, or places one on a "scene" message board, doesn't mean that she's given up her right to – well, to anything. You, my loyal reader, are very probably a good person – certainly a good, probably great person to the right partner - and you deserve someone who treats you well!

I don't mean this as a lecture – like I said, you've done nothing wrong – and hopefully if you find yourself in this situation without wanting to be you can get out of it pretty quickly, but I do know of one woman who went on for a long time without knowing that the man with whom she thought she was building a long-term (if very long-distance) relationship was married. I would never criticize someone for being too trusting, too hopeful, even too naïve – but I do think people should get into things with their eyes – and ears – open.

Okay, I just read "He's Just Not That Into You" which might go a little overboard, but let me approach it like this: I've been a single guy, truly looking for a relationship, like many women say they are. I was not afraid that some woman would "stalk" me or "out" me to anyone – especially since I only had one relationship going at any one time. Guys shouldn't be, and shouldn't claim to be, worried about "stalkers" – maybe they're annoying but a guy is not really going to be in any physical danger.

If I was going to play with a woman, she deserved my name, address, license plate (okay, it's a vanity plate, and cute), home phone number, and at least some insight into my personality. We could meet in public places even in my hometown. She always knew when it was convenient to call and when it was less convenient but there were never "forbidden" times for any reason. The only reason a guy has to forbid you to call is so that his wife or girlfriend doesn't answer, overhear, or ask who he's talking to. I have kids and when they're around they understand that sometimes, believe it or not, Dad gets a phone call.

***

break for funny story –

When I was first getting to know Cat, this other woman practically was stalking me – she wasn't in the scene and I gave her very little encouragement, but she was an expert – she'd arrange for a group of us to get together and then everyone would seem to be paired up except the two of us; she'd want to get together for a casual meal; she needed help studying for a new computer program at work (and then showed up with a fancy take-out dinner). So we're working on some material on a Wednesday night, she wants to take a break (she's not exactly a workaholic) and my pager goes off at nine at night. I go into the bedroom and make a call – to Cat – and she's flying into LAX, two hours away. I come out of the bedroom, hint for 15 minutes, and finally say, well, I need you to go.

She's one of these people who challenge things she doesn't want to hear, making you either lie or reassure her (as in "Are you telling me I'm fat?") so she says "What, do you have a date?" Usually I'm pretty blunt with these people but I don't even remember what I said – very possibly, "Well, yes."

I got back home in time to put on a clean shirt for work.

Stalker-girl still didn't get the message until the time we were in the living room and Cat came out of my bedroom with a rolling suitcase. That pretty much did it.

***

Back on track here: secondly, I had a strong desire to get with and/ or be with the woman I was seeing – I had the kids every second weekend so if we were going to see each other on those weekends then it had to be at my place and without playing but otherwise I was always looking for a chance to get together. I made crazy weekday dinner dates two hours away that got me home at ridiculous hours, offered to combine a vacation day with a three-day weekend to fly across the country on no notice, and tried to add a weekend to a business trip to be able to afford to visit a woman who was otherwise too far away. I missed the occasional trip to the gym, I arranged not to work late, I skipped a trip to the bar with friends – sometimes just to be on the phone for hours.

I have to admit that at the time these women almost always had a nicer living space than I did – that's just the law of averages considering my hovel overlooking the Pit of Doom Annex – so I visited them, but if they did come to my place I didn't hesitate to introduce them to my friends, kids, or colleagues, or tell my colleagues that I was seeing someone. And I never hesitated to meet her friends. These are the things a relationship is about. It didn't take months of planning to arrange a weekend together, even cross-country – yes, something might interfere now and then, but not consistently for, say, six weeks.

As far as I'm concerned, this is the absolute very least you deserve from someone you're playing with – if the two of you claim to be interested in a relationship. If he limits you to e-mails and chat, he needs silence and secrecy. If he limits when you can call, he's afraid of who might be around – and we're not talking about his mother – or he shares his answering machine with someone he doesn't want to know about you. If he has huge time commitments when he can't have you around, that's a bad sign – why shouldn't you go to his kid's soccer practice with him? If all his vacation time and holidays are already spoken for, someone in his life is a lot more important than you are. Classes, volunteer work, working out, working late – frequently legitimate excuses but all things that can be cut back once the two of you want to spend more time together. After all, his real reason for doing a lot of these things was to consume his time until he met someone like you.

Ladies, I've heard of women running ads and getting buried in responses – of course maybe that's just the ones I hear about, and I'm sure a cute picture helps. But just because you want a guy who's into spanking doesn't mean you have to lower your standards, you just have to increase the radius of your search a little – and believe me, an internet ad certainly does that! I have answered ads from all over the country – how we were going to work the distance thing I don't know, but I was ready to try! And sometimes it doesn't work – sometimes the person who's right for you isn't the type to answer personal ads, which makes it harder, I admit.

So guys, be honest – you're not going to get away with very much for very long anyway. Yes, you can victimize some poor woman once in a while – is this the kind of thing you want on your conscience? To get to spank a woman one time? If you're that desperate, get a divorce.

And ladies, be honest with yourselves as well. He's telling you a lot, whether he puts it into words or not. If you just want some guy who'll smack your bottom because you need it and you don't care that his heart is elsewhere, there're plenty of us out here. But if you want the guy who's right for you who also enjoys putting you over his knee, he'll treat you like he ought to and you'll know it – and there's plenty of "hims" out there as well!

And by the way, I'd recommend that if you want to be into the whole spanking scene and not already in a relationship, it's easier to find someone who's also into the scene along with being right for you, rather than trying to add the scene to a vanilla relationship. Just my experience, your results may vary...

Goldie's Quest for Bears

Cat and I went down to "The OC" (Orange County) the first weekend of July for an excellent party hosted by Goldie and the Bear, where we got to make some new friends as well as joining up with several old ones.

Along with hosting the party, which was held on a Saturday afternoon in an idle dungeon (always nice to have one lying around), Goldie has embarked on a project of collecting teddy bears for OC children in need. Since it sounded like a good cause, I got about a dozen teddy bears for them that look like this (pretty cute, huh?):



I'm sure Goldie can explain her campaign better than I can, so to find out about it, click here:

Goldies and The Bear

or the bottom line is, you can send a check or go out and buy one or more new teddy bears and send them in or hand-deliver them to the August 5 party like we intend to. From their website:

ship your teddy bear to:

BEAR c/o
PO BOX 78555
Corona CA
92877

New teddy bears only please, suitable for children (naturally!)



Good luck, Goldie and Bear - and thanks for a great party! (more on that later, I'm hoping)

What the Spanked Woman Needs

Is that a sufficiently pompous title for everyone? You just know you're not going to agree with whatever I choose to say next, don't you?

In this particular case I'm not talking about every spankee woman – just a certain "type" of woman I've met, more than once – okay, stop complaining, there's a lot to be learned by recognizing your "type" and observing others. I always find it a lot easier to see traits and consequences of behaviors in others than in myself, don't you?

This particular type of spanked, or needing-a-spank, woman is the one who's always right. No, not the ones who think they're always right, the ones who actually are. She's analytical and critical and usually know what's the best thing to do. A lot of times she'll get in a relationship, even with a fairly forceful guy, and before too long she's making all the decisions herself. The guy is mostly fine with this, because she's usually right. And when he's not, he does it his own way anyway. But the woman gets sick of making all the decisions, of being responsible for them all the time.

This is one type of woman I see getting interested in a domestic discipline relationship. She is acutely aware of every mistake she makes (surprisingly to some of us, not everyone is). She has a hard time letting go of the ones she does make. Thinking back, it's the first thing she remembers about any past events - what went wrong, how it could have been better. Also, always being right leads to becoming very domineering over time. When she announces what the right choice is – and once she does it's usually obvious – everyone feels compelled to follow. Unfortunately, though, sometimes spouses and partners get sick of it. Sometimes it's for no good reason they can verbalize – they're just tired of someone always knowing the right thing to do. Sometimes it's because every time they argue they're wrong – or sometimes they lose the argument even when they're right.

Different women who share this personality trait deal with it in different ways, and in different ways at different times of their life, with some of them getting interested in a DD arrangement. They look for a man "strong" enough to stand up to them, who won't always leave all the decisions to them. And not too surprisingly (at least to us spankos), if they get too argumentative, or make choices that make everyone miserable, or do something emotionally inconsiderate even if it's logically correct, they would prefer to be spanked than to have their partner be mad, or sulk, or leave them.

Finding a man who meets this qualification – just this one – is fairly easy. Plenty of men are very decisive, regardless of how good their judgment or track record is. Men are more likely to be willing to act on their own authority and accept the consequences as necessary. A lot of men will address indecision by doing something, anything, rather than "wait and do nothing." And if a woman asks a man to indulge these behaviors, she ought to have a high level of success. Getting a man to do things his way is not usually a difficult task.

What becomes difficult for her to accept is doing things his way when he's not always right – or even often right. This becomes all the worse when he cares less about making mistakes than she does – or fails to see or admit his mistakes. Combine this with a woman who is hyper-aware of mistakes and views (and reviews) each one as a personal failure and shortcoming and the relationship becomes impossible.

So I would say, just generally speaking, that the spanked woman needs to find a man who is wrong even less often than she is. This may be difficult, especially when she rolls in all the other traits she's looking for including current situation, mutual attraction and willingness to paddle her bottom on a regular basis. The good news is that if it's easy to get most men to do things their way, it's even easier with one of these men. And one would think, all other things being equal, that a man like this would prefer a woman like her.

But since this is my blog and my opinion, I would say that her responsibility doesn't stop at finding this guy and bending over with her panties down on a regular basis. I have always felt that submitting to domestic discipline does not entitle someone to a lot of annoying or unacceptable behavior. If you're spanked for a tantrum you need to make an honest effort to avoid future tantrums. If a woman is going to ask her partner to make decisions, she is going to have to accept those decisions – at least a lot of them. Accepting doesn't just mean going along with them, it means supporting them. Before and after. No endless questions that not-so-subtly imply that she thinks the decision is wrong, or might be wrong. No claims of "just wanting to understand" his thinking. No forcing him to paddle her to get her to go along every time he decides something. Difficult? Oh yes – that's why there are lots of spankings at first. But she has a responsibility to try to reduce the number of times she does that – just as he has a responsibility to try to choose what is best for more than one person and accept the credit or blame afterward.

I don't think anyone would expect such a capable woman to have her partner make all or most of the decisions in their life, so there will be plenty that she makes herself. What she claims she wants, though, is a man who will recognize when she's making a mistake and stop her. Maybe the best agreements wouldn't specify what type of things she'd be punished for, but exactly how many tries she gets to convince him she's right before she has to cooperate. No one in their right mind would get into a relationship that invites endless fights – if he stands up to her, there has to be a limit on how much she argues with him – otherwise, who could blame him for just giving up on it?

Afterward is every bit as important as before. She cannot (without invitation) treat every bad outcome as a learning opportunity - He has probably already learned about as much from it as he is likely to. And she has to remember that bad outcomes do not always indicate bad decisions – unforeseen things are always happening, while hindsight is 20-20 – and I don't mean "get your hiney in sight for 20 with the paddle and 20 with the strap" though that may be a really good idea. Hopefully, the decision maker made the best choice with the information available. So no post-mortems, not under any disguise.

One more comments on decisions: if it's a tough decision, whatever it is, it probably doesn't matter which side you choose. Yes, one might lead to some good things or some bad things while the other will lead elsewhere – but if, all things considered, one was better than the other, it wouldn't be a tough decision, would it? If you knew one choice would lead to bad things, wouldn't you avoid it?

Einstein said (I've heard) that when he was faced with a tough decision, he'd flip a coin – then ask himself how he felt immediately upon seeing the result. In other words, if the coin flip said "yes, retire to Miami" and when he saw it he was disappointed, then he'd stay and teach at Princeton, trusting that his instincts had considered everything that he couldn't always put logic to. If a coin flip said "yes, form a rock band" and when he saw it he felt inspired, well – obviously that never happened.

So here is this spanked woman, just trying to be happy and we hope that she is. If - in addition to the perfect caring loving partner - I could give her one thing, it would be this: the ability to accept mistakes, even repeated mistakes, and move on. Much more difficult, I know, than accepting a week of the hairbrush on the sit-spot, but, believe it or not, even more useful.

Back At'Cha, Angel Brat

I've been getting a lot of visitors from Tracy's blog over at Angel Brat - a cute little diary. Thanks, Tracy! For those of you who didn't come from there, check her out!

Here's what she says about herself:

Name: Tracy
Location: Southern United States

"I'm in my 20's, happily married to a wonderful man who spanks me because he loves me and because I ask him to."

Angel Brat

As you probably know, I'm a fan of romantic, relationship spanking (especially to read about) as well as recreational spanking between friends - this one falls into the first category...

Our Acquiescent Pixie

10 AM Friday, Las Vegas time:

text to kristen: climax Tues?

kristen: no.

to: well we have one waiting for you

re: ;-)


kristen, Cat, and I had made plans to play in Las Vegas back in March and in the intervening weeks she and I e-mailed in an exchange bordering on obsession. I would check my e-mail at early-morning hours and mid-afternoon, partly due to the time difference that put her three hours ahead of us; kristen once ran home from work between meetings to read and respond with words she was unwilling to use on her work computer. And now...

One PM text from kristen – on the plane and on time 

She's tied up with work until the last minute and then faces a long flight, she'll be getting in right at 8. And we will definitely pick her up at the airport, because I want to play a game you only get one chance at. kristen hasn't played with us much before and has never been to Vegas, making it perfect for the blindfold game. She has to give up and trust us completely – not really knowing where we're going (though she has a good idea) and no visual assurances of who we are. It's a lot to ask, a lot to give up – and as I said, a disappearing opportunity because once you've gotten to know your Tops well it loses its effectiveness. Another reason for all the e-mails, to establish the trust to play this game. And once we start, I don't want to be trying to react to her – I want to know what we'll be doing and that it'll be okay.

So just after 7 we head for the airport – I've learned that with bars, airports, and most other meeting places the man ought to arrive first, rather than leave the woman standing around waiting. Maybe a too-old-fashioned thought for modern, enlightened women but I'm not anxious to change it.

Eight PM at McCarren - The flight's on time, we're on time.

Cat and I stake out the baggage claim – which, of course, is a long way from the arrival gate but as close as we can get these days. Struck by the irrational fear that we'll miss her, particularly as the minutes drag by – though we have cell phones, nothing can really go wrong and it doesn't. One minute we're impatiently waiting, the next she's there standing before us – a smiling dark-haired pixie, thoroughly intent on enjoying herself. She tells us of all the barbs she withstood from partying workmates as she turned in early most nights all week. Since it's 11 PM her time and we have plans for the next seven hours, I whole-heartedly approve.

Back at the car we load in her luggage and produce a black cap and cloak – though the night's not freezing, it might come in handy. Pulling the cap down over her eyes (that's why we chose it) should shut off her vision until we intend to restore it. I had considered a number of anxiety-provoking scenes, such as removing or changing her clothes in a deserted parking lot somewhere (hence the cloak) but concluded that even the most basic evening would be thrilling enough under the blindfold – and if we ran into trouble entering the hotel, I wanted her to have a respectable amount of clothing on. Cat guides her carefully into the backseat.

These things seldom go perfectly and in hindsight we probably should have chosen the ear-warmer blindfold instead of the cap. kristen, alone in the back seat – hard to distribute three people in a small car - does not behave well in terms of peeking, so she does know we're going up the freeway along the strip and not heading out into the desert. I repeatedly reach back and pull her cap back down but her intention, at least, is obvious. She's never seen the hotel lobby-casino and is extremely anxious about being led through it blindfolded – actually, I had brought a few birthday party props just to allow us to do so – but I've decided we can't go through the casino anyway, due to where we have to park, and have scoped out a route from the back door, through enough lobby to get her heart racing, and to the elevator with little fear of trouble. Still, keeping the blindfold on will be a recurring issue most of the night.

At the hotel we do switch to the band-style blindfold – a little more obvious than a lowered cap but much easier to get kristen to keep over her eyes – and I leave Cat and kristen at the curb before parking and returning to bring her into the hotel. It's easy to forget how difficult and slow it is to walk while blindfolded – we offer her an elbow, like for a blind person, but of course her steps are very tentative. Slowly we make our way along the sidewalk from drop-off to door, door to lobby, along one side and across to the elevators – on a route that makes it unlikely anyone will see us but has enough of the casino sounds to convince our overly-anxious sub that a million people are watching. Just after quickly providing our key to the guard at the elevator I hear someone ask "oh, is it someone's birthday?" Apart from that we actually draw little notice. We get an elevator to ourselves though I've always assumed they're video-monitored so we don't spank or strip her right there, much as we'd like to.

Once on our floor we begin the long, mini-step trek down the hall. I suggest that we step into the ice and vending room, which is out of sight of the video cameras, and strip kristen under the cloak, but Cat thinks we're doing enough – and is probably right. So kristen arrives at our door with her clothes still momentarily intact.

I had considered leaving on talk radio and CNN so that competing voices would greet our arrival but once again put that in the "too much" category – just getting her into the suite, removing the cloak, getting her barefoot on the entry-area marble, and peeling off her tight little jeans is plenty.

As a plaything kristen is the embodiment of perfection – beautiful olive skin, petite yet shapely on a miniature scale, just enough padding to her tiny bottom to make it a delight to spank – and Cat is very anxious to get her hands on her. But first, a few introductions. Though she is extremely submissive when playing – a trait that I've actually found to be rare among the spanking crowd – I want to reassure her a bit. From behind I wrap my arms around her, holding her arms and lifting her clear of the floor. I tell her to try and get away, which she does, meekly and with no success – though she claims she's "being nice" I'm thinking she would not be too successful anyway. With this I explain that she doesn't have to submit, we can do what we want to do even if she resists, that she has no control whatsoever and nothing to worry about.

Nine PM, Hotel Suite coffee table – kristen finds herself standing on a large, square, foot-high platform.

Marble, hard and cold under her bare feet and - soon - knees, we guide her toward the center and she can feel elevated and trapped – unable to wander without risking falling off, blindfolded. Stepping back from the table I watch her try to discover and take in her situation, searching for the edges, trying to find a way to get it back under her control – while she also tilts her head back in a blatant attempt to peek out under the blindfold. In her tiny black g-string – lace over a beige lining – she looks little different than she would nude below the waist.
At my urging Cat helps her kneel and I ask her why she is there. She ducks admitting her own feelings by saying that she doesn't know what to say and then that she'll say what we want – while of course what I want is her own answer. Cat gets a quirt to smack her if she persists in trying to peek which she claims is unsuccessful but even the quirt doesn't deter her. Eventually I guide her into saying that she's in control a lot and wants to not be in control for awhile.

I've heard women say that they don't want to top a wimp and now I know what they mean – because no matter how submissive she becomes, kristen is no wimp. Beautiful, successful, fashionable, she is in control if – or when – she wants. In play she desires a heavy hand but wears her rebellious streaks like racing stripes – wide and blatant. Her submission reflects no real-life need – not a desire for acceptance, admiration, commitment, support or even guidance. It is wholly and purely an innate physical desire surfacing straight from her eros.

Standing at the edge of the table I summon her to me, wrapping her easily in my arm, lifting her down, guiding her to the windows looking out on the Strip, teasing her about her disobedience with "you wanted to see the Strip, there it is" as she scowls in reply. Cat comes over, taking her out of her top and bra, guiding her toward a pane unbroken by cross-supports, nudging her forward – a red blindfold and pseudo-nude g-string, breasts pressed against the cold glass, no certainty of how close to the Strip's thousands of pedestrians we really are – as Cat reminds her, whispering in her ear. From behind, arms at her sides, obedient, a bare bottom no bigger than a salad plate, she is a vision made real.

But this is just corner time, she was very naughty in the car and now – at last – she must be spanked. Or gets to be spanked, depending on your perspective. Cat sits on a long bench – this suite is so ideally furnished for play, it makes you wonder – taking kristen over her knee. She's commented many times on how nice it is to spank a woman's soft, yielding, sensitive bottom rather than a man's muscular, resisting butt – so she enjoys this immensely. Not much punishment but we have plenty of time for that.

From here I carry her over and lay her down on the bed, on her back, drawing her arms above her, displayed in all her perfection. Her breasts in divine proportion could each be covered by one hand, rising straight off her torso with the unacknowledged conceit of youth. Wrapping a forearm in each hand I pin her down as Cat sweeps her with one sensation after another – fur, bristles, feathers, nylon threads – and she squirms, cannot resist resisting under the visceral demands of a light, tickling touch. I grip and position a leg as Cat smacks her, her bottom, her thigh on the back and inside and front. Much as she wants to Cat resists kissing kristen's breasts, taking them in her mouth, stroking, feeling, entering her – uncertain what is "acceptable."

Well teased, it's time for a bit more play – back to the marble-floored entry way, where a small marble ledge projects from the wall, perfect for kristen to grip and bend to. With a handful of canes Cat stings her bottom, with an occasional full stroke for a more definite reaction. kristen's curiosity is amusing as she searches the ledge, trying to discover what it is and where she is, while it is actually an architectural oddity out of place in any location. I have kristen step back, lean forward, rise on her toes, arch inward – a glorious curve of young womanhood tensing to the bite of the rattan.

10 PM, floor of the suite – kristen begs, pleads, demands, insists – that she be allowed to remove the blindfold, which is a bit precarious because her hands aren't tied.

Since she wants to explore her environment I have offered to let her crawl around a bit, setting her on the floor and smacking her with the quirt – but she suddenly decides that she doesn't want to go anywhere, she collapses and curls up on the floor, begging to take the blindfold off. Putting her on her back, opening her legs, I make her an offer – climax and it can come off. She protests that sometimes it's hard – as every woman knows – afraid that she won't get her wish despite my manipulations and her efforts to accept them. The g-string comes off at last, the three of us are on the floor, she is completely, totally available to us.

Carefully, lightly, I try to find the touch she'll respond to, but she knows her body well. The excitement, the late hour, the anxiety combine to mute her response. Hoping that more spanking will provide the decisive stimulus, we turn her over and I get a short, heavy strap. Up on your knees, I tell her, back down, I want an arch, I want your bottom out and smack! She gasps and curls a bit – back down, you know what I want, now do it – smack, low, quite firmly. Her reaction is extreme, maybe I've given her a bit too much, I aim higher on her backward-thrust, proffered little bottom and begin a steady strapping, which she takes a little better.

Receiving makes kristen submissive, compliant, docile – she is very good about saying please and thank-you and pleading properly, sincerely, respectfully – but both her bottom and her spirit recover very quickly, naughty and ready for more. Within seconds of the final stroke of her strapping she has rolled over and, with one final complaint, reached up and removed the blindfold. So proud of herself, giggling and beaming with a sparkle in her jade-green eyes.

Naturally such blatant behavior must be dealt with in extremis. I'm up on the bench with her across my lap as Cat plies the black rubber strap – a nicely wicked spanking that won't inhibit our playing later. Even holding her knees with one arm and her torso with the other I have trouble keeping her bent as she fights her discipline – though she escapes none of it, not a single lick. The strap provides a heavy, excessive-feeling swat on every stroke but still manages to have ferocious sting, eliciting pleas, explanations, apologies, rationalizations, and more pleas from our unfortunate felon – all at a disciplinary, record-setting pace. Within a minute or two she's absorbed many dozen withering imprints across – and not only across, top-to-bottom and angled as well – her elfin little bottom. While I don't doubt that she learned absolutely no lesson at all from it, at least we did our best.