Creative Spanko Wench Blog

01 Jul

‘member these kitties? Happy birthday to toes…

Minitoes (aka Cinnamon) turned 15 today, and it hardly seems like yesterday that I kit-napped her from ‘mamma kitty’ (a semi friendly ferrel cat who birthed her litter in my dryer on Canada day - long story short I lived in a house on stilts by the sea shore and I had a small ramshackle shed under the house where the washer, dryer and sprinkler system were enclosed). Mamma kitty had 4 kittens, I tried to catch all of them after she began teaching them to eat/play with/kill live food. I was going to take them to be neutered. Toes and her brother were the only ones I could catch. Mamma kitty moved the others before I could catch them or her. I kept both kit-napped kittens. Toes’ brother passed at age two from ‘lung worm.’ Toes has out lived the two kitties and two dogs I already had when she joined our family, as well as a kitty I adopted when it was 10 (her owners had to give her up due to a move - she lived to be 18). Now my sweet lovey dovey little kitty is what her Vet calls a geriatric cat. She takes medicine for blood pressure and glaucoma in one eye and she’s become so allergic to ordinary cat food so badly that when she manages to get into it she literally rubs her whiskers off due to the itch. She’s crafty too - she prefers regular food so every chance she gets she scoff her new little (not so little anymore really) brother’s crunchies and leaves her hypoallergenic crunchies untouched. Toes weighs 9 lbs.

And so now we have Scrapscallion … he came to us a a tiny 3 lb stray that our vet’s kids found lost on a cold rainy night. They nursed him through some upper respiratory distress and then after Toes last housemate passed away and I worried that she seemed very lonely and lethargic … Scrappy (or crappy depending on his behavior) ended up coming home with us. At 1st Toes did not like it at all, then over time she adapted. They cuddle together on my lap every evening now, though there are still squabbles over playing … he wants to play constantly - she likes it some but her stamina is waning…

Not so long ago the scruffy little scrapscallion pictured below could fit in the palm of my hand. He turned one year old in late march, and he really has grown into all that scruffy long hair…

He’s an exceptionally soft an silky little guy. Toes has very velvety fur, Scrap’s is more plush and silken.

Look how aloof he pretends to be … he was 9 months old when the above pic was taken…. He had grown to 12 lbs and now he’s 14lbs. Perfectly normal and healthy for his bone structure and probable Ragdoll mixed with local ferrel kitty heritage. Vet says he has the points (tail ears and one toe, plus the length, size, structure and amazing relaxed flexibility of a rag doll. His tail is the only remaining scruffy part of him & no amount of combing can make it look smooth… he doesn’t seem to mind, so I don’t either

Well now that he’s officially a late adolescent kitty, as you can see he’s into everything… and he plays knock everything off the shelf/table/counter pretty much daily. That top shelf he’s on is 10 feet off the floor. I used to have living house plants, some wood figures and standing books up there…. I had photos next to the TV on the lower shelf too, and the toy soldier on the shelf second from the top used to have two ears… (ok so the soldier’s hard to see -it’s between the monky puzzle tree I made in 96 [left] and the books [right]. The puff on the right (your view) is missing guess why… :)

Happy birthday to Mini toes & happy late birthday to Scrapscallion.

Here’s Toes tonight trying to lick my arm to make me give her scratchies … of course she got her scratchies and a lovely long body and belly rub too.

LOL! There ya go… an update on, my current housemates and source of my daily - maintain sanity - purr and cuddle therapy

;)

patty

30 Jun

Busy day

Started out by turning off my 6 AM alarm. I was half in a dream and in it, it was Saturday morning and I grumbled at myself for setting the alarm. Fortunately I did turn on the TV. I woke up fully realizing it was Tuesday at 7 and made it to work ten minutes early. I had a buddy with me that I was assigned to mentor. Eeeep!! it would have been so wrong to be late.

We went out, did our thing, had to get permission to go over our allotted 8 hours, got it, got what we needed and I got home a 8:15 p.m. All in all it was a good day. Lots of writing to do, but nothing unmanageable (I hope). As the leader I’ve got the bulk of the work to do, but as the mentor I have to help my buddy get their stuff written and make sure they know how to do the background work that also has to be done (since they’ll have to do it all on their own eventually.)

Long day, busy day, and sort of a fun day.

A spankin’ this morning and tonight would have made it a near perfect day …. you know? Worry & stress that I’m too green to be a mentor … worry that what we found won’t fly .. and I ended up the driver (better than being the passenger, but not my favorite thing when I prefer some of the slightly longer back roads to the freeways, and I know that I’ve gotta do the freeway so as no to eat up my coworker’s time.) We made it there and back on the freeways, no issues, and exactly within the allotted time precedent all the other drivers have set. Ta Da!

So from now on I’ll clean out my back seat, keep it clean, and take my legitimate turn as the designated driver. Sigh… a minor step forward toward overcoming my driving fears…. It’s all good doncha think?

Working on my writing … lost some ground these last two days … got some lovely drawings started - have a new all in one scanner/printer/fax still in my car trunk (more than two months now) … really want to show off my new stuff … here’s hoping that energies and opportunities line up soon.

Love y’all
patty

29 Jun

Heal thyself… a bit of a rant

I’m just back from another rapid turn around overnight trip and have a heavy assignment more than 50 miles away tomorrow. Tonight I’ve decided to wind down by down loading comedy albums from iTunes … Billy Connolly, Bob Newhart, Bill Cosby, Ron White, Bill Engvall, Jeanne Robertson and Ron White. They should keep me laughing for a while. I’ve got America’s funniest videos and Americaa’s funniest animal videos set to TIVO along with Reba and Two and a Half Men. My crime shows (except for two on cable … The Closer & Criminal Intent are in reruns, so going with comedy only for a while seems like a great plan.

Frankly I’m disgusted with the news media. Where was the notice that Ed McMahon passed away last week, and Farrah Fawcett’s passing is now barely an after thought in the midst of this Michael Jackson frenzy? How many ordinary anonymous families experienced the loss of a family member last week? [I guess I have a special sensitivity to this since someone very close to me passed quietly on the same day as John Kennedy Jr. It was cruel really that there was no relief from our loss because at every turn a pseudo celebrity’s passing took over every venue of relief for weeks] Mr. Jackson was a ruined, very troubled human being, the current speculative frenzy around his death is just wrong. The blessing is that he’s not here to suffer the piranha like feeding frenzy around his last moments. Ass holes like Jesse Jackson and Al Sharpton (two men who offer nothing at all to society, who have leached the racism card for nothing but personal gain and wealth) once again crawl (creepily and exploitively) out of the woodwork. GAG! Just leave the family alone! Let them grieve. It’s Cory Feldman’s business that he cut his friend off in his own drug addled wallow right when his friend needed him most, and then never took the time or seized any chance to reconnect - exactly why is this newsworthy? Go away you slimy press hungry freak! Millions of us have been there. Human’s make choices everyday, even though tomorrow is fleeting. Regrets just are. Wish they weren’t, but that would be a pipe dream.

Frankly, nothing but the news that he died, and his family is grieving is all any of the rest of the world desrves to know right now.

We get dealt good cards and bad cards. You can win with a bad hand and you can loose with the best hand. It’s all in how we play them. Some of us play well, some of us don’t. You’d be surprised how many wonderful families nurtured/raised progeny who never manage to master fundamental/ordinary life’s skills in-spite of the fact that this progeny has been blessed with exceptional - sometime extraordinary talents.

Some of us are never going to learn not to smother every flame of hope out of fear, some of us will eventually learn to embrace the fire. Some of us will make choices that make it possible to find happiness and peace, and some of us will make choices that invite painful outcomes. Not one of us made a wrong choice either, we acted from need, and some of us pain. If any of us could see the future, all of us would question even our very best instincts.

It’s regret that I feel I personally feel the need to work out. I regret many things and I feel blessed having been given many things. My current biggest regret is hurting one of my best friends, even if it had to be done for both of our peace of mind.

Ed McMahon, by all reports was a good egg, a friend to many and a dedicated advocate for abandoned and homeless animals. Farrah Fawcett bravely disclosed her sexual history in the hopes that others could learn about anal cancer and the risk factors for it. Michael Jackson hid from the world, and owned no believable truths about himself - he sought to be Peter Pan and failed. He could sing and he could dance, but as a man he offered nothing else but unresolved questions…. But they (Ed & Farrah) genuinely gave what Mr. M. Jackson never did - he got famous doing self aggrandizing things.

I should be more empathetic I suppose considering that in my small world I’m just as guilty. I hid, I embellished, I found my reality unworthy and I re-wrote it to conform so I could belong ….

People subjected to the piranha feedings don’t often heal. Piranha devour and destroy. Perhaps they shit out molecules that might congeal and offer a some lucky soul a second chance. Mostly they ruin lives and obliterate history. Mr. Jackson’s family don’t deserve this. Please leave them alone.

Just my thoughts.

P

27 Jun

Oh and isn’t this interesting?

Our friend Cane Master has been very crafty and also very busy … enough to make a needy spankee drool. :) check out all the new and diabolical toys over there at Cane-Iac

27 Jun

This Looks Like Fun

  • Spanking Tube
  • While you’re there check out some of the others like this one…

    Some are amateur some are clips from pay sites… something for all tastes…

    Some may want to check this out too …

  • Spanking Tube Challenge
  • And these two blogs

  • Richard Windsor
  • he is the sponsor of the challenge.

  • Thomas’s Spanking Exploits
  • he is the spanker in the second clip I posted up there…

    24 Jun

    Crappy Company

    Sorry for the long silence. I’ve been really crappy company for weeks now. Lots of reasons but nothing I feel would be fair to un-burden on y’all. I guess I am mellowing away from the old me. I’m trying to work my way back into drawing and updating some of my long neglected serial stories. My energies come and go ya know?

    Me and my spanking partner have officially said good bye. He’s got too much to cope with right now to maintain a long distance telephone relationship with me, and I really need more than just phone contact that is all on his terms. This is life as we all know. Stress really does bring the warts out. They’ve been there all along of course - we just didn’t see them until the light shifted off the top, and then there they were, those tell tale shadows of trouble that we’ve either missed or chosen to ignore.

    I went back to counseling last week. I had my second appointment tonight. Funny how life can feel completely overwhelming one week, and then the beams of hope manage to get into the dark corners under the shroud of possible withdrawal from life the next. Today was a pretty good day all things considered and tonight some things I’ve been thinking and doing were affirmed.

    I have been doing my best to try and capitalize on purr therapy. My kitty monsters have been mostly cooperative giving me long lap and tummy cuddles. Scrapscallion, now just a few months past his one year birthday, has become quite a brat, and he’s not as easily distracted from trying to become dominant kitty as he was a few months ago. Thing is, his nemesis is 15 years old, has heart failure and glaucoma and already has to cope with the torment of getting medicated every day. Poor Cinnamon really doesn’t like being chased through the house every other hour any more, and I don’t like the longer more desperate hissing and pissed off kitty ‘row - row - rowling’ that she let’s out each time he corners her … (makes me worry about how much of it goes on when I’m not home, ya know?) Again life changes are evolving. The hierarchy of kittydom isn’t something we humans can really change. Top kitty is an earned position and periodic quarrels are the way the pecking order is established. Cinnamon has been top kitty for 15 years. I'’m probably not helping the path to a natural transition by breaking up their scabbles, but heck I’m a human and I probably worry too much that he’s stressing her. Animals (cats and dogs anyway) are very resilient. They grasp their group/pack’s natural order. It’s we humans that get in the way of harmony being negotiated/re-negotiated in their language.

    Ah well…. we humans barely grasp our own natural rules of engagement either…. ya know?

    Anyway, hope you’re all enjoying the first weeks of summer. We finally got rain yesterday … whew!

    :) patty

    01 Jun

    The Holiday

    Bitter Sweet

    My workday ended at noon on Friday, after which I joined my friend and his friend for a full and gorgeous afternoon sailing. The day was perfect for sailing too. Clear blue sky, the 88 degree temperature tempered perfectly by the kind of afternoon breeze that avid sailors dream of.

    I really enjoyed spending time doing something I have missed for many years, and I was blessed to share the experience with a couple of special individuals. My arthritis may have limited my usefulness as crew, but I was able to at least handle the jibsheet on one side or the other as we were tacking (zig zaging into the wind) out of the ship channel into the gulf, and as we maneuvered in the gulf to enjoy and ride the swells.

    We started out with some drama when the motor stalled just as we’d cleared the slip while my friend tried to throttle forward. A sudden shudder, an “Oh shit,” sudden movement of men, a little drifting toward other boats docked in the slips behind us, one pull, and the engine was back up. We averted having to “buy the boat” we nearly drifted into and got underway.

    I needed some reminders to loop the rope (jibsheets) counter clockwise and keep my hands away from the blocks. I had a flashback and smile-memory, as I twice needed a reminder of clockwise. Well here’s my take, clockwise is a natural right hand task and I don’t care who says what counter clockwise is just natural for a left hand task. It’s true for beating cake batter and it’s true for securing jibsheets to cleats.

    The trip out into the gulf was relatively quick even if we did have to lift the keel in a hurry and let the wind take us off the bottom when we got too close to the jetty on one tack. Both men, very experienced sailors each, were surprised that the water was as shallow as it was where we hit ground. I was educated about the Gulf of Mexico tides, sand erosion and poorly maintained jetties by the banter between my sailing mates.

    All was well, barely a hiccup of drama and we were back underway in no time. I did have to smile and lean into the soothing and safety of the way two lifelong best friends can bicker one minute and laugh with each other in the next. I made an almost instant bond with my buddy’s best friend in that lovely and perfect long afternoon.

    Riding the swells in the gulf was fun even if the up was more up than the downs (except for one really good one.) Literally hundreds of fish were jumping into the air around us, mostly along two demarcations, one east of us, and another west of us, where sea weed trails and subtle color changes in the water were obvious. We saw some surface floating Portuguese man-o-war jelly colonies along with hundreds of living versions of the benign white balloon jellyfish that regularly get stranded on the western gulf beaches every winter.

    Once we decided to make the turn around and head back, we had to share the ship channel with first one outgoing ship, and then an incoming ship. It was fun and interesting to be a bystander listening to best friends bicker about how to set and maintain a course so that the ships know “you’re” not messing with them and “know what you’re doing.” The rules of shared water at the very basic level … vessels operated under ‘power’ traveling toward the same point and in proximity must yield course and adjust their speed and direction so that they pass behind vessels under ‘sail’, BUT, big ships who can’t maneuver, own the right of way just like trains do on land. T’was another refresher course. I knew all this stuff once. Now I know it again.

    The word f*** was used many times when our captain did things his way instead of my buddy’s way. I just couldn’t help but laugh because by then I knew they were both capable and they were both being almost too protective of me. All the bluster was for show and we all knew it. I appreciated it anyway.

    We were supposed to skim all the way back in, but after the second ship passed us, fickle breezes and probably a contrary tide ultimately forced us to pull the sails down and motor back in. It was nice though, because the marginal increase in speed helped blow our sweat dry and keep up the breezy illusion of cool. We were treated to numerous dolphin sightings. I saw a few black “whale” dolphins and lots of jumping fish early in our return, we all saw three bottlenose dolphins frolicking (what almost seemed like wrestling) in the light green – dark green tide margin just before we turned the second last jetty into the marina. My buddy almost turned us around to get a closer look but decided on caution (after a bit of a bicker with his friend.) Apparently neither of my water seasoned mates were sure of how much fuel was left to take us the rest of the way in to our slip in the marina.

    I know that both of them teased me through long secret back doors of past experiences and ‘life lessons’ they’d shared. I was the uniquely welcome newcomer in their midst. I really enjoyed the way they played their shared history off of me as both the only women in the group, and someone who shares the kinds of life secrets they do. I also felt and instantly recognized the intimate trust they shared with me so easily.

    After a full afternoon of sailing, evening brought us back to the beach condo my buddy’s friend was using. We broke up to shower so we could go out to diner and not fail the stink test. My shower space was off my buddy’s room. He waited for his friend to go into his room then he locked the double doors and decided that while the shower was running next door he had time to warm up my bottom.

    I was nervous about being overheard, but obediently let him pull my shorts and panties down and crawled up and over the pillows on his bed. He didn’t care, when I complained, that I was still all sweaty and smelly from sailing. He used his hand and a borrowed hairbrush to administer a particularly ouchie spanking. His hand is quite hard, and he likes to use it hard right out of the blocks. So I wriggled and yeah I giggled right from the start. He took particular glee applying multiple sets of ten to my sit spot with the brush after and preceding more formidable strikes of his hand. It was a short but memorably sound spanking. I got in to the shower smiling and content and then winced when the ‘hottish’ water rinsed over my bottom. “Oh, owie!” I avoided scrubbing so I could leave the owie intact.

    Once we all showered, it was dark and we went out for supper. We each ordered the same lightly blackened fish. I went with green beans & coleslaw; both of my mates elected fully loaded baked potato (one with the other without chives) and other veggies. I mostly listened to my mates chat and occasionally bicker about their shared history. T’was fun and informative, but now, knowing what I know about my buddy’s mind set, I understand why I felt like a third wheel the other night.

    After we left the restaurant, my buddy decided he had to have ice cream. Neither his friend nor I wanted ice cream or another stop to get it. I can’t have ice cream. I kept my mouth shut wishing that he’d realize my restriction, but nope, ice cream it would be.

    We got in the car drove a little bit, then knocked on the locked door of a small kitschy sweets shop. The owner let us in
    (even though she was closed) and my mates each ordered their preference of the creamy delight. It wasn’t until I declined to order that my buddy realized that the sugar-laden treat is verboten for me now. He apologized, but still ordered his serving for “eat in” instead of to go. We ended up in there for MORE than an hour and forty minutes. I tried without luck to find a comfortable place to sit and wait (the reed-caned chairs were too high edged and too low cushioned – the circulation to my legs got cut off after barely minutes of trying to sit!) The vinyl-covered chairs were also too high for my feet to comfortably reach the floor. That also caused aching pain to build up in my knees. I’m afraid fatigue and pain took over my mind so that I just zoned out of the conversation. After close to an hour of trying to get comfortable, my buddy entered into a ‘rescue the damsel in distress ‘little business owner’ exchange.’ I began to let my inner wench surface got a bit testy. I kept it to myself (until writing this now.)

    I barely contained the gasket that I was getting ready to blow by the end of the hour 40 minute mark when my input about the why and how of her problems (reasonable and probably accurate) had been repeatedly ignored by my male friends. Fortunately we got underway before I got bitchy enough to say more than “OK guys, I’m really tired could we please go.” I hate it when I get cranky, but at least I didn’t misbehave.

    Neither of my mates had anything but possibles’ to offer the poor gal (all of which she’d already checked out and exhausted with workmen.) Like typical guys though, they pretended they knew what they were doing and protracted the encounter – checking breakers, chattering about amperage, dirt accumulation, and other such maintenance things. We came away with nothing accomplished but a business card exchange. I hope the kiddo gets a proper fix for her equipment. Gotta love men’s instinct to go for the “fix,” even when a gal is just mentioning something in conversation. “How’s it going?” “Pretty good, just having some annoying trouble with my XXX.” “Really, let me check it out for you.” LOLOLOLOL.

    We didn’t go to rest after that though. We went to the condo parking to get a lock for the sailboat’s motor. Then we went back to the marina so the lock could be affixed.

    We got back to the condo after midnight. I was dead to the world. Friendly conversations about sailing, carried on from interrupted chats during the day & evening. They went left then right. I could barely keep up even though I wanted to. My buddy was already online for some other purpose. He decided to show me some stuff about a particular ship channel. It took a while to get the online maps to cooperate (he got booted, then it wouldn’t zoom right). By then I was totally limp toast. I was interested but zonked. He said, “you’re just humoring me aren’t you.” I told him something like ‘no Sir, I’m interested but just too tired to be attentive.’ The message got through.
    My bed was the huge cushy sofa.

    My buddy at first insisted on taking it, giving me his bed or having me share it with him. I snore so sharing wasn’t something I was up for (shyness, ya’ know). He’s got much more severe chronic physical pain than I do. The couch wasn’t a wise option for him if we were going to enjoy Saturday. I took the couch, but it was sometime after 1 AM before the lights went out and any of us cuddled under covers.

    I tossed and turned, but eventually Tylenol PM kicked in and I managed to get some sleep. By 7:15 AM when I decided to break the ice and get up to make coffee. Shortly after that my buddy’s friend stirred and got up. He was pleased that I’d made the coffee strong. Our movement and whispers woke our mutual friend and by 7:45 we were all up and deciding on the activities for the day.

    After some banter between my two buds got underway, I bulldozed in and offered and was allowed to make breakfast.
    My bud took a long shower and then stretched out to watch HSN News while his friend took his mile long run. Almost perfect timing ensued. Scrambled eggs with chunk cheddar cheese were served soft (just past runny). Biscuits were light brown and fluffy. Sausage was hot and drained of fat. Some diced, pan fried cherry tomatoes mixed with the fry pan’s left over essence of egg, sausage juice and a small amount of butter topped off my effort.
    Both of my buds said the breakfast was great. I believe them.

    I knew they had boat part shopping plans on tap for the day Saturday, and my buddy had already told me outright (on Friday) that he wanted to spend Sunday alone with his friend. After multiple cell phone interruptions, every one of which could have been ignored so we could have all gotten on the same page, I gave up and signed off to go check on and feed my kitties.

    I got back to my hotel, over fed my kitties (who I’d left alone overnight) and let my mind whirl about how my last 24 hours panned out. I couldn’t process any linear thoughts, so I put the TV on and fell asleep.
    Shortly after noon my buddy called me. They were done shopping, would I like to join them for lunch? They were right near me so I said sure. I was told to pack some overnight supplies and make sure my kitties were set up with over fill this time. I obeyed, hopped into the shower slathered on sunscreen & some loose shorts and an oversized men’s cotton “Bimini Bay” shirt.

    We had a terrific lunch in town and then returned to the Beach Condo. Just as we were discussing plans to go out and share the experience of going to a nudist recreation spot, my buddy ran out of steam and succumbed to his desperate need for rest and sleep.

    Yes, I went anyway with my buddy’s life long friend. We had an amazingly great time. 1) He was easy to talk to, and he was accepting and honest about what he thought of my buddy’s kinky activities together. He’s the only one who knows about our spanking. He told me he doesn’t understand it, but then he also told me that he doesn’t understand his own nudist impulses either. 2) Everybody at the nudist recreation center was sweet welcoming and so at ease. I’ve never once been to a church group whose membership was as welcoming as the nudist camp members were. 3) I was surprised to find that the place was primarily populated with folks in or older than my age group. I was also surprised that almost all of their fully nude bodies were aging just as mine is. My body (especially with my recent radical weight loss), with all its left over pudges, wrinkles and sags stood out only because I’m not tanned head to toe. Only one 10 (body) was there among the 40 or so people there. Interestingly the little hard body was the only one who self-consciously dressed after getting out of the pool. I kept my shirt on, but did strip my shorts and undies off and let my shirt stay unbuttoned.
    I’m amazed and comforted by the experience I had that day. Nobody could have told whether my bottom had been recently spanked or not. Everybody (guys & gals) who used the recliners in the pool area had striped and VERY red bottoms just from sitting on towels that do not cushion the PVC plastic slot chairs A few men had some yellow edged stripes and leathery brown sit spots suggesting their bottoms suffered more than just sitting too long on hard plastic recliners! Some guys & some gals had marks outside sitting lines, but their interactions betrayed nothing more than what they shared with this group.

    As I said, I was liberated enough to go with just a hint of bare with just my Bimini Bay blouse on, all buttons open. It fell off my breasts when I moved a few times, but I managed to tug the edges back. Once seated, I lifted and crossed my knees some too so that other parts didn’t get too exposed. The truth is no one was looking and my self-consciousness was unnecessary.

    Certainly we were scanned as new comers at 1st. We found seats at the poolside and initially kept each other company, but in no time we were greeted and welcomed by regulars. Some took seats nearby us and struck up easy conversations, and others came closer, offered their hands and invited us to join them for supper (we declined since we had a buddy at home that we needed to collect for supper.) My companion had a lot of history and shared military and living history in common with a few men there, and I found that a few of the women and I had travelled some surprisingly intertwined life and professional paths. In no time I found myself engrossed in conversations and pretty much oblivious to my semi nude/exposed state.

    It was enlightening. We really are living just a few “degrees of separation.” I’ll bet that everyday in our life, when we go out and about our lives, we cross paths with folks like us (maybe not exactly sharing the same kinks – but) living secret lives in the relative comfort of having found enough peace to dare live them. I found everyone we met at the nude camp to be genuine, emotionally healthy and more welcoming than any clothed group I’ve ever been invited to visit with or join.
    All in all, I can say that in all honesty, the nudist recreation camp was probably one of the most reassuring experiences I’ve had in kinkdom for a long time. The last one was when I met my buddy 20 months ago. He wasn’t annoyed that spankings make me giggle in the midst of the ouch, or that when it really starts to hurt I giggle through the “Owe’s” and “stops.” (Some spankers just find involuntary giggling disrespectful.)

    He says he loves my giggle. Many times he’s leaned into my ear and said, “Tehehe! I love it!” I think he likes it as a cue to know he’s not going to far. Even so, he’s told me more than once that I take much harder spankings (and yet keep on giggling) than most video models he’s seen … just maybe I otta consider a visit to Red Hot Videos to visit Greg … betcha he’s got few gigglers taking his 20 dollar tip after a long otk session. LOLOL – “the evil wench patty gets her due.” Wonder what he’d do if someone over his knee yelped, hollered and all through it giggled? LOLOL. Truth is, my buddy and I have had a lot of fun together, he’s diabolical and curious and I’m just me. We have fun.

    Besides the fact that we share spanking, and it’s my bottom that takes the licks, he likes that I’m bright even if we argue about work type stuff now and then. Who doesn’t argue now and then? He’s been around the professional block I’m on for many, many years. Often my questions, worries and disclosures accidentally launch advice sessions that become contentious when all I intended was to share an experience. I loose touch with how it started down hill and my original just a question and collegial intent in the heat of things. It happens, it’s normal … LOLOLOL men and their need to fix - women and our inability to recognize it when simple uncomplicated mentions of frustrations or second thoughts are likely to turn in to full fledge “this is how you should/could/better approach it next time…”

    I spent almost three hours in the nude recreation camp with my buddy’s life long friend. I missed my buddy even though I didn’t lack for any interaction. When the time came for my new friend/nude companion and I to leave (a severe storm warning was broadcast) both of us laughed. If our buddy had been with us, we’d have been there for hours and hours more. I recalled the kitchy store gal the night before and laughed even more. My new companion knows his friend well and he agreed and laughed when I made the comment that “You know if XXX had been with us we’d have still been there ‘till midnight?” Thing is, as much as he worries about surgical scars and his cute/very average (for his age) pot belly, his body wouldn’t have raised a single eye brow among these folks. Truth be told, we (his friend and I) both knew that he’d have bonded and gotten engaged in chats with everyone. If that had happened we’d all still be there. LOL!

    Again it was well after dark before we went for supper. We had marginal Mexican food for supper. My chicken salad with avocado was OK, (probably the best thing on the menu) but neither of my companions liked their grease laden enchilada dinners. The greasy fare didn’t limit their ordering a huge sopapilla plate. It didn’t go the way of the half eaten enchiladas either. The sopapilla plate went down the hatch and left over tortillas sopped up the cinnamon spiced honey. LOLOLOL.
    After we finished our marginal supper and my buddy polished off his share of sopapillas, he suggested ice cream again. Neither me, nor his friend answered this time. I did send a wishful “Please no,” out into the universe. We didn’t have ice cream. Instead we drove back to the condo. My wish was granted. I was again exhausted.

    Plans had totally changed for my buddy’s hopes for Sunday. Relatives showed up in a different condo Saturday and they called to say “hey.” As it was working out, my buddy lost his alone with ‘my best life long friend time,’ and it was becoming clear that my presence would be “hard to explain.” Originally I was going to go back to my hotel early Sunday AM… It turned out (because of unexpected evens) I’d better go back Saturday night. Feeing a bit ashamed (for being such an unexplainable secret) I willingly agreed that I’d better disappear and hide from any curious relatives who might question who I was and the why of my being there. I’m not sure exactly whom I was hiding from after finding out that it was a nephew and his lover who sort came out of the closet that weekend. LOL! Given that my buddy and I were already out with who we are with his friend, who knows, it could have been a whole-hog day of sensual/sexual disclosures LOLOLOL. Even though I know that I made the wiser choice, I almost wish I could have been there. I know that my presence and voice could have been helpful when the ‘gay’ disclosure/realization/discovery occurred. It wasn’t to be, nor was I invited to make it my place.

    Back to Saturday night …

    Shortly after ten thirty p.m. my buddy tucked me into his car to go back to my hotel. Honestly, even though I had overnight stuff with me and wanted to make them another breakfast, I welcomed a full night of sleep in a familiar bed instead of another night on a couch. We made it to my hotel after 11 p.m., before we got there my buddy asked me if I’d like to play. I wasn’t sure it was wise. He’d been in so much pain all weekend. I asked him if it was something he could do. He assured me it was.

    So, for more than an hour once we got to my hotel, we played with spanking ‘patty.’

    First he scooched up and took a very uncharacteristic spot seated against the backboard and told me to get my shorts and panties off and get over his lap. My goodness; another new twist! I know from experience that spankings from this position are diabolically merciless. I had a lot of trouble wiggling once my legs and torso were trapped. I couldn’t help flinching over and over again either. At first my flinches were from real sting and burn, then once my butt got cozy flinching became pure reflex based on stroke placement. Don’t get me wrong not one single swat was not formidable or memorable. I reveled in the whole thing.

    I think my weight across his lap began to hurt his left leg after he’d been whupping my butt for close to 40 minutes. I asked if I was hurting him, at first he denied it, then he ordered me to get up on my knees in a very specific position.
    First he caned me, then he whupped me with the tawse, and then he stopped spanking and probed. I was wet after having approached climax more than once during the vigorous preceding play. Again I lost it and came quickly but he wouldn’t stop. One, two, three, four, five, six and then I couldn’t take any more. He asked me if I’d ever been tied down and stimulated to orgasm so many times it felt like torture. I truthfully answered no, and he smiled. What a diabolical mind he has…

    The long spanking ended, we cuddled for a long time, and I sensed something was hanging between us. I’d felt it before. He had something to say.

    We talked through it. He’s not well. As much as he wants to keep spanking me, because of his health and my work schedule we have to back off and so he may become just a once upon a time spanking friend and we both are going to have to let phone and email become our last and best mode of contact. Travel to my neck of the woods has become very painful if not impossible for him, and my assignments virtually never take me to his territory any more. While neither of us has ruled out some future fun together, it was beyond clear that our shared clock was ticking too fast for either of us.
    We’ve shared an incredibly special relationship for quite a while. I’m not able or willing to let it go right now. Just as I’d never leave my husband because he faced an illness, I’m not walking away now. Yes I may still have spanking in my future … right now though I have a wonderful and rescuing relationship in my reality and almost no one can grasp how deeply it has meant to me/rescued me/re-empowered me. He needs my loyalty, and I need to give back every ounce of what he has given me. Loyalty, deeply felt love and deeply felt gratitude, that’s where I am right now…

    Life is interesting/convoluted and ever so isn’t it unpredictable isn’t it?

    I’m lovin’ and beyond bewildered by it … whirl, whirl whirl…

    Love patty

    28 May

    Back

    Hi y’all.

    I’m back from traveling and winding down from the energies expended from almost non-stop going (work, then fun, then more work with longer hours). I started writing about sailing, a nude recreation experiment and a couple of spankings while I was in the middle of experiencing them all. I’ll get back to the account and post it after I recover a bit. I’m exhausted, and yet mentally wound up. I will say that the sailing (LOL no, there was no bare bum & I stayed fully clothed) was amazing, the spankings were terrific and the nude recreation experience was brief, non-threatening and surprising - more on that later.

    It’s possible that I may have just experienced the last spankings of my life and that I’m now entering a phone and e-mail only relationship with my buddy though. Life throws curves, and the circumstances that made the past 18 - 20 months of getting together possible are changing for both of us as this year evolves. I’ve been feeling sad and have shed some tears thinking about it, but ultimately I must say that I’m incredibly blessed for having what I’ve had. At this point neither of us know if getting together again will be possible. If we can, we’ll make it happen together again, but both of our life situations may have already trumped our hands.

    I’ve just entered my 49th year on earth this month, this week actually. My gemini personality has my mind flipping back and forth. Life’s good, life’s sometimes hard - I’m blessed, I’m going to experience another loss… All in all I think my heart will choose blessed and that will be where everything settles out. - please excuse me if it takes me a while to get there all the way….

    Stay tuned… ;)

    18 May

    Travel jitters ;)

    Spent a few hours on the phone with my spanking buddy this evening, and helped him navigate to some blogs with visual content. He was hard to distract tonight. Maybe because things are shaping up for some together time later this week. For some odd reason he brought up the marks he made in some tender crevices last time. Then he reminded me about my somewhat more vigorous reactions to his experiments with his leather creation and the cane-iac birch cane. “I’m not hitting the brown parts,” he reminded me of his commentary at the time. He was referring to some ‘cheek’ spreading and stinging activity that involved getting at the tenderest areas between butt cheeks without actually hitting the most private delicate zones.

    He kept reminding me of how much fun he had making me struggle, whimper and of course giggle. I know his diabolical mind is planning our next encounter together even as I recline here with my lap top. He’s got this idea that he wants to see how I do with my hands tied behind my back and my waist held down so I have a limited ability to buck. I think he wants to see the exquisite wriggling that a bit of pain and restricted movement will cause.

    I won’t lie and say that the idea isn’t working to instill a pleasant anticipation … then again ooooohhh, ouch, owie!

    We shall see what evolves. He like reading my accounts too, so yes I will most likely share here.

    On another tack, this trip I’ll be away long enough that my kitties will travel with me. I’ve got their food litter and disposable litter pans in the car already. I still have to pack myself. I was a slug all this weekend and got no laundry done, and I know when I get home late next Monday that I will have no desire to do any then either, so I’m going to take two weeks worth of outfits and have the hotel’s (quite reasonable) concierge service take care of it for me. Considering that I start another long assignment with fifty mile (one way) commutes each day once I get back from this far away out of town work trip capped off by a holiday weekend extended stay, I think getting two weeks of laundry done for me is a good idea.

    Last time I travelled far out of town for work, I forgot the charger cable for my iPhone. This time I’ve gotta try not do do anything that spacy again.

    So tomorrow morning I get up early pack, shower and take my kitties with me. It’ll be nice. My oldest kittie is almost 15 & she likes to cuddle with my spanking buddy. She could care less that he whacks her mother’s ass with little mercy. She’s a lovey dovey purr motor who will find any willing lap or tummy to curl up on and get her bean scratched and her body stroked. Scrapscallion on the other hand has been a little less friendly. He checks out the situation, but then scampers away to hide. He’s just hit the one year mark and has had to adapt to being a travel kitty meeting all kinds of new people. I think he’ll warm up to safe company eventually. All my other shy kitty’s did. Cinnamin is unique in her sociability she never hides from strangers like most cats do. She climbs on them and insists on attention. Scrapscallion shows similar if less ’stroke me slut’ potential. Recently I’ve had both cable & Air conditioner guys come in to fix things, he sniffed them both out and found a spot nearby to watch without needing to hide. We’ll see.

    I gotta go find the Christmas birch cane from cane-iac. The light colored one has begun to splinter and there must be a birch cane in my suitcase for this trip. Oh my oh my oh my! Where the heck did I put it?????

    G’night y’all. Sleep tight. I hope I do. Long trips stress me out .. I always miss some critical detail.

    :) patty… (gonna get a spankin’)

    18 May

    Interesting juxtaposition…

    Image Hosted by ImageTitan.com

    17 May

    Group think.

    .

    08 May

    Have you ever? Would you?

    I am once again grinning at the odd lubricants prudeizm encounters. The ‘bad girl’ stuff that never even came to mind in my life that life brings up. Would you, could you, should you?

    My spanking buddy/partner has a very good friend who knows about us and is interested in our kink, but he has his own particular and unrelated interest and that is nudism. In the not too distant future my partner and I will be together for several days on a couple of different visits and his friend is going to join us for parts of each. We’ll do some sailing first visit for sure, which is the primary interest that brought all of us together as friends, and we’ll maybe try something totally new for my partner and I.

    If you were sailing out in the open waters and you’d been recently spanked hard, and the next day you were sailing with a nudist (on his boat) and your partner, would you dare agree to be a deck hand who worked in only a 2XL T shirt that without a breeze kept you mostly covered? Not that this is being asked of me, it’s actually an intriguing idea that has just come up in conversation because of timing. I can either get spanked and sail, or sail and probably have to put off spanking… You now me right? I want BOTH even if a second spanking could still happen after we go sailing. Under no circumstances am I expected to sail nude or even be bare bottomed during the trip. I’m welcome covered head to toe, but, well ya know, I’m curious and wishy washy, and curious, and curious….?

    Then there’s another twist. My spanking partner’s friend has invited us to join him at a nudist camp on another visit. The timing’s going to be such that if spanking can happen it will be before we visit the camp. I’m assured that most kinks (spanking & S and M) and body types are accepted, no questions asked - no judgements made, and that I can wear an over sized t shirt every where except the pool. Do I dare go to a nudist camp even wearing an oversized t shirt with a properly spanked bare bottom? And you know for me properly spanked is not a pinkish hue…. Having never even thought of visiting a nudist camp, I’m totally oblivious to thinking this one through all the way.

    I’m so out with my own fantasies I’ve got nothing to hide really. I went so much further than my own fantasies with Fred when he was alive and we shared ours. Now it’s just me and my heart seeking answers to the same kinds of questions Fred once asked. But actually now seeking answers to the questions of a new partner I’m not alone anymore … there’s this huge spanking internet world. Not that I won’t make my own choice.

    Could you? Would you? Either scenario.

    ;) waiting with baited breath …. patty

    07 May

    Swine Flu

    I’m on my feet again. I slept completely through the weekend of April 25 & 26. Had a disturbing day Sunday when my AM blood sugar was 204 for no reason, and at noon it was still high at 171. How could it be so high? I took my meds and ate right and just crawled back to bed. I woke up late Monday morning and raced to my assignment 50 miles away making it there by 7 a.m. (we were supposed to enter at 6:45). I was barely conscious, and felt like my whole body was lead and every bone and joint hurt. By 10 AM I was sweating and had a cough, by 1PM my nose had become a faucet and by 3 PM I had vomited and now had diarrhea. My blood sugar at supper time was 200. Again why???? I’d eaten only string cheese and tuna.

    My boss called me while I was driving home and asked if I was sick. I said I felt like I was catching a cold. He said stay home tomorrow and go see the doctor, I would be replaced by another nurse on my assignment. My 1st thought? Hey wow! Boss’s orders to take a day off. No problem. Then I got home and turned on TV for the 1st time in more than a week.

    Swine Flu. And while limited so far (as of April 27) had cases reported in every US city I’d been trapped in trying to get home the week before. Shit! Thursday through Monday - exactly the average incubation period, and the news was so dire! Not me though, not possible. It was just a stress and overtired related cold.

    My temperature was 102.4 and I was coughing and leaking from every … well you get the idea. I got up Tuesday morning at 6:30 to get to my doc’s by 7 so I could be one of the 1st appointments. My AM sugar was 324 - I had eaten almost nothing in days. I hadn’t had the ambition to eat either supper the night before or breakfast that morning. The office was full, everyone with kleenex boxes and sniffles.

    I got in at 11 AM. Lab work showed I had a low grade bacterial infection but the slight increase in my white cell count couldn’t account for my fever or the high sugar readings. Swabs were taken and sent off and I went home with a script for an antibiotic (too late for antivirals they should be taken within 48 hours of onset of symptoms which for me was apparently my totally lost to body aches, bone and joint pain and feverish weekend).

    I don’t remember much about last week. I know my friends called me every day, some called me several times a day. I missed quite a few calls probably because my snoring drowned out my phone. Everyone has told me I sounded awful. I vaguely remember feeling worse than that. I also remember getting really scared when my blood sugar hit 404

    I got cleared to go back to work this Wednesday, still a bit stuffy headed, but no more fever and feeling much better. I jumped right into a neat sounding assignment and walked into a can of worms. Definitely interesting but one of those things that will will take me some time to get it written up. Before I left yesterday, something came in, and since I was handy, today I started on a new assignment that is even more involved. I’m really appreciating the mind exercise and the chance to step out of my personal life - you know???? when you really like your job and it helps you keep perspective instead of tipping it out of kilter?

    Mostly I’m amazed. Swabs results came back finally today, and I had Swine Flu and recovered in only 14 days. My last cold laid me flat for a month - cold to sinusitis - to bronchitis - to sinusitis - bronchitis. I’m on my feet excited about work again even though I’m still a bit tired.

    I still have some stuffiness in my head, no sniffles or sneezes just that weird feeling like my ears are almost blocked but swallowing clears them.

    Aaaaaand

    my blood sugars have been normal consistently since this past Monday.

    Aaaaaaand

    yesterday my new printer/scanner/fax/copier arrived. With luck come Saturday I’ll find the time to get it set up and installed….. and some new artwork up for you.

    Aaaaaaand

    Chances are good that I have more spankings in my future within another few weeks….

    I hope you’re all well. I hope you all escape the flu.

    :) patty

    p.s. I’ve learned that unexplained high blood sugar is a warning sign of serious illness….

    24 Apr

    Sigh… I’m just gonna ramble… read at your own risk

    First the frivolous stuff:

    My laser color, printer, scanner, copier will print and copy, but neither of my computers will recognize its scanner … same with my old ink jet photosmart 3 in one…. So I’ve given up. After uninstalling and reinstalling them several times with no luck, I’ve uninstalled both from at least my mac book and ordered a new printer (I just love easy pay on HSN - 3 easy payments that just mean no Friday nights out for a few weeks - and immediate delivery, not to mention that the list price is 45 bucks cheaper than the same all in one I scoped out at best buy… First I’ll take my laptop to geek squad and make sure there’s nothing hinky in my photoshop software blocking scanner recognition.

    Then I can catch y’all up on my new drawings.

    I need a spankin but good tonight. I actually just need some human contact.

    Now the life stuff:

    Been crying over some sudden and sad family stuff, and fighting lack of ambition that comes with exhaustion. I flew home all of a sudden last Friday using standby tickets all the way. I wasn’t just stressed by why I was going home, I was distressed by the way my boss seemed more concerned by whether or not I could get back to get my assignments done for the next week. And when I called my good chatty friend I woke him up, instead of telling him the whole thing, I just said “I’m quitting this job.” He was exhausted, not feeling well and not in the mood to listen to me rant about work, so he declined to have the conversation at that moment. So then feeling lost and flailing in unexpected phone space I lashed out and said “OK then don’t ever call me again if we can only talk when you’re free and on your terms.”

    Then even because of work, my boss’s narrow view, having no sick time and not being eligible to use my accrued vacation, when things started gelling in my heart and becoming clear this was not an option. I went home. I called my friend and left him a cryptic apology.

    I had amost two days to see him (no names, no relationships) wake up, get off the breathing machine and talk with him about silly stuff and serious stuff. He asked me to help him make family and friends clear that he did not want to be kept alive on machines. I begged him not to make me do that, but it ended up that I did that, and we all witnessed his signature on that order. He had a lot of pain and was in and out, but I still had time with him for a few really loving moments filled with memories, wishes and dreams. The docs gave us a guarded thumbs up and transferred him out of ICU Sunday morning. He told me to go home, he insisted he was fine and told me in tears that he was really glad I came.

    Someday soon, I’ll share just how close this person was to me, the antics we got up to in our years growing up together and the reasons he’s one of the most important people in my life. Just not now, ok, I want you to laugh with us, not cry…. and crying’s all I’m able to manage right now.

    Work was stressing me out. I did have a lot to do. So, I gave in and kissed him goodbye, warned him he’d better listen to the nurses and stick to his physical therapy or I’d be back ready to shoot his ass. Then I caught an easy standby afternoon flight on the 1st 2 legs back home. By 4 PM, ready and tense about my second of 4 legs, virtually every darned airport in the US north east was shut down or backed up with planes trying to land in bad weather. We managed to land in a major hub, but once on the ground there was no where open to fly out to, and then that hub closed to all traffic too, so I spent the next 18 hours waiting, trying to sleep on the floor with my computer bag as a pillow; and then as morning daylight (dismal lightning filled daylight) and several more hours of “FDA has closed us due to weather, please be patient ” dawned I tried hopelessly to keep napping, and then when the sun came out … waited ‘hope fully’ if ‘helplessly’ for space on 4 different flights.

    Needless to say, with all the delayed and cancelled flights due to weather, standby flyers get last dibs after redirected fliers. I did get to Houston, but too late to get on a flight home. I called my boss and told him I would be late, but hopefully should make it to work by noon. I did get a hotel bed in Houston, but was so wired worrying about needing to get to the airport by 6 AM to catch the one flight the attendant said might have space, I got almost no sleep. I needn’t have worried. They gave 4 fliers free travel vouchers for giving up their seats to standby folks or others displaced by cancelations. Didn’t help me. I was #6.

    Unless I wanted to change carriers, pay full fare (way, way beyond my budget) and fly into an airport 30 miles from my car and 45 miles from home, I had to wait for a standby space. Finally, by 5PM I got the news that I had a seat on a flight that would get me home after 7:30 PM. I got home, called my boss and said I would try and get to work Tuesday, but I’d been without real sleep since Friday. He just aid, so you’ll be there tomorrow? I restated that I’d try.

    My mind spun out of control all night and I got no sleep. I called my boss again, I just couldn’t make it. I made the call at 4 AM left my home # and left it at that. Wednesday was worse. Another sleepless night and then Thursday morning my blood sugar was 48, I woke up dizzy, nauseated and starving. I ate two large peanut butter gobs and some cheese, and called my boss. I wasn’t going in again. I called in and spoke to all required humans. They didn’t really care, just was I going to make it to the Friday staff meeting. I promised to try.

    Then:

    Last night I got the call that he passed in his sleep Thursday afternoon while I was deeply asleep. It was a very good thing I went home when I did. I got to see him alive and spend some quality time with him. I can’t afford to go home for the funeral ($800 -$1200 standby ($2400 if I pay full fare and buy actual seats). It’s almost half my monthly income and I just can’t do it. People will think I’m shallow that I’m unable to loose two whole weeks of a 4 week paycheck. plus another 7 or more days because I decided only to visit him in what I couldn’t really know were his last days and then cheeped out going to the funeral of the best buddy I’ve ever had. Trust me my mind is still trying to find a sane way to do it. Make ends meet so I can go back…..

    Here’s my peace: He knows I came on time to spend time with him before he died. I got to surprise him, kiss him, and laugh, and cry with him; and I got to just be there while he slept. I know he’d laugh at me for buying a new scanner tonight. He’s one of the only vanilla people who knew everything about my life and he was all for living and being pragmatic about who we are and what our world is with a smile. If only I could be him …. I can only be some one he loved and influenced …. greatly influenced… he talked me into using diaries and letters and giving everyone pattyandFred … He never let me forget what an ass I was hiding from the hate when things got so hard….. maybe I owe him… and Fred. I think I’m ready too.

    I know he could have coped with the long course of painful physical therapy he faced, but I think God gave us those hours when he woke up lucid after the doctors told us his brain injury would make that unlikely. We don’t know what took him. It was sudden after what every one who visited and the hospital staff said was a “good” day. I’m guessing that all the pins and skrews securing his pelvis and both of his thigh bones combined with the trauma to his head that hamstrung his medical team’s choices for preventing clots explains it.

    He was T-boned by a SUV that ran a stop sign. No drugs, no alcohol, just plain old end of a work day pre-occupation.

    I did make it to work today and found strength in the support of friends even though they never knew him. Life’s changed again.

    sigh…

    19 Apr

    No spankings this week

    But I did enjoy the after effects for several days. Nice marks and some residual tenderness…. all the better to fuel ruminations and such.

    Just an update on the diabetes front … last high sugar reading - noon on April 1 = 122. Reading just now 88. 7 day ave. = 92; 14 day ave. = 96; and 30 day ave. = 111. Worked a lot last week, had some stress to deal with, but still managed to stick to my diet.

    Hope you’re all doing well.

    patty

    12 Apr

    Good Friday,

    Mine started out with a whiney moan - “pillow, please pillow, shackle me to this bed I don’t want to go to work.” I stretched and yawned and let myself languish for a few minutes, and of course you know that my hands found my bottom. A Alas even though the alarm clock never went off, I was awake and on edge. I had to be at my assignment by 8:30, and there was big city rush hour and cab response time to contend with. I elected to get to the lobby and call the cab for 7 a.m. It arrived at 7:10 a.m and delivered me to my destination at 7:24 a.m. “Duh patty,” I growled at my self. “It’s a holiday.”

    I was more than an hour early! Man o man I was cursing that pillow. It knew. I know it knew that I had another hour of snooze time and I think it secretly snickered and is still snickering. [Sunday I’ve got to catch a plane home… wanna bet that pillow withholds again… do I get up and catch the shuttle 2 and a half hours or 1 and a half hours before departure? I think I’m going to be contrary and go for 2 hours even… ] You know the pillow knows right? It is all knowing and it’s mean. It wants head time and it’d try and keep you there with it forever if it didn’t have your responsibilities and deadlines to contend with, so, having lost out after so many ‘play hooky’ collusion attempts it just sneers and ignores your pleas. I think all pillows should have to go to sensitivity training and that’s what should be on the ‘do not remove’ label they are sold with.

    Alone in the lobby of the suite where I was supposed to be acquiring some work essential software skills, I picked up an AARP magazine, and started reading. I got half way through it before anybody else showed up, but you know what I discovered? AARP articles are nice and short; informative, and short. You can finish reading an article in just a few minutes and you come away with information, ideas, stuff and references you can actually use if you want to pursue the topics further.

    The work was tedious, thankfully the cafeteria was open for breakfast/morning service, I’d skipped out of my hotel in such a hurry, I forgot to take my Januvia and only took a bottle of water with me for breakfast. I had two tubes of mozarrela string cheese in my purse, and they served as breakfast. It was the 3 gram carb diet Welch’s peach juice I bought from the cafeteria during the morning break that helped get me through lunch when I discovered the cafeteria was closed and I had no independent transportation.

    I was starving, but afraid to eat anything with too many carbs because I’d forgotten my medicine. Thankfully one of the departments (related to the one I work for) in the building had a ‘store.’ For a dollar I was able to get a huge (humungous – seriously) dill pickle (the only low carb option they had) and a large bottle of water.
    At the end of the workday, when I got back to the hotel I was sure my sugar would be high due to starving induced ‘liver dump’ and the stress of calling cabs and dealing with a boring class that I could have taught ‘stress.’ Well it wasn’t. It was 108 mg/dl. Wow & whew! I took my medicine and settled on the sofa to catch up with e-mail, family etc.

    My spanking partner arrived in a little while and we had a nice long chat not to mention a pretty terrific supper. Mine was a huge steak & grilled monster asparagus. He had steak too, but I had to rescue his steak from stray skinny asparagus stalks that were touching his steak. LOLOL. Seriously! My side order of huge grilled asparagus had an amazing crust of burnt parmesan cheese on and around it and when I offered him a nibble he said “No, the asparagus has touched it too long.” I just had to laugh. I’m still laughing.

    [A hearty meal and a really long evening of spanking and at bedtime when all the stress and effects of my day should show in my system, my blood sugar was a perfectly normal 97. I thank goodness for the drug researchers who created Januvia and of course I thank very, very, very, very, very goodness for the sage education and advice my doctor has given me. [No more than 10 gm of carbs per meal and less than 25 gm / day if possible.] I’ve been watching my food intake with care, and so, I was even able to be 9 hours late taking my meds & my sugars didn’t spike. ((yes George)) I’m really diabetic, I guess being scared shitless has made me make changes I’ve known I should have made long ago, and now I’m seeing how immediate the impact of those changes would have been from the start. But here I go again, I digress…]

    We chatted and watched TV longer. We had more time.

    But, time or no time, a spanking there would be. Ropes came out and so did a hint that I would be nude (my top would come off,) before the night was over. As it turned out flexibility and spontaneity prevailed and neither of these eventualities came to be. The spanking that ensued didn’t need these extras. It was well and truly complete and perfect on its own.

    On Thursday he’d discovered something. Taking control of pulling my pants off and baring my lower half was a powerful, if shivery thing for me. If I have to do it there’s a whole different dynamic than if he does it. I like them both, but I associate me pulling my pants down with serious spankings and him doing it with He is in control and there will be some fun spankings. Not the same thing at all. He discovered that he liked the tentative shiver my body surrendered when he did it Thursday, so he decided that he’d do it Friday too, only this time I was standing and facing him.

    I had to pee first…. and he let me go….

    I know because of how we’ve meshed that emotional hurt and humiliation are things he can’t/won’t imagine doing to even with a willing partner (which I will never be where those two things are concerned.) –[My take: Consensual pain isn’t hurtful and limits crossed in knowing regard for a partner’s limits, with whole or limited consent isn’t humiliation.]

    I shivered when he pulled my jeans down, I’d left the zipper down expecting what was coming. I wish I hadn’t – I know I’d have kept the auditory memory of that unzipping in my memory forever. Instead I have a sweet giggly memory of his acknowledgement … “ Oh, you didn’t even close your zipper.” And my reply, “no ‘cause I knew you were gonna pull it down in a minute anyway.”

    I shivered when he unbuttoned then pulled my jeans down. I started to help by stepping on the denim so puling my foot out would be easier, but he stopped me.

    “I’m doing this, if you need to lean on me to keep from falling you do that. I’m taking these off.”
    Then came my panties. I kept my eyes locked with his. He was enjoying this. I’m pretty sure I blushed red hot, and then guess what he wanted to do first?

    Any guesses? ………………….

    Sheesh,,,,,, the silence is deadening, but I guess that once I tell you not a spanker among you will be surprised.

    He turned me around, pushed my torso down and examined his handi and leather and wood- work from the evening before. He wanted to make sure that a small blood blister that came up midway through hadn’t broken.

    “Oh look, there, you’ve got some bruises,” he chuckled, but there was worry in his voice. He ran his fingers over them, and I didn’t feel any pain, so I reassured him they were just fine. They were evidence of just how far wonky straps and multi twig cane ends stray. Most of the bruises were inside the tender diamond where upper thighs meet butt cheeks and inner thighs merge with the sexy bits.

    It was time for spanking. He picked the two most handy pillows to place for me to lean over. I said, “those are down pillows.”

    He said, “do we have any foam that will keep you up?” and I dutifully admitted that all the other pillows including the huge European shams were foam. [I always ask for a couple of down pillows when I stay in hotels. I sleep on down at home, and I find my neck gets too kinked if I can’t mold my pillow to support my neck and let my head smush just right. Ooooops another digression….]

    Firmer foam pillows were placed and I held back.

    “Get up there now, you know the drill,” he was ready. I was too, but there’s always that moment where I have to adapt to the pain that’s going to be first even though my sexy parts have been working up to this all day … [it took three wipes after I peed to dry those other juices!]

    This spanking began with his hand, and he set a steady cadence on one spot that my right cheek quickly embraced. I wiggled in the middle, he laughed. I was close to cuming by the time he got to 100. The left cheek was next, another 100, then he asked me “how was that?” and I answered “green,” and giggled. Well now that was probably not the smartest thing I’ve ever said. But then being smart and having a smart mouth are actually contradictions in terms, so no one should be surprised by what followed. Another 50 centered on one cheek first and then repeated on the other. My butt churned trying to get the other cheek in the way of the one he was targeting. My lord he has a deliciously hard hand!

    When he stopped I admitted that I was very hot, and asked if he could tell. At first the slick evidence of just how his ministrations worked on me was confined inside, but a few deeper probes toward my clit and he said, “Oh yes, there it is,” and so began the first interlude in our spanking play. I came four times, and collapsed before #5 could crest the hill.

    That treat required payment, and since my butt wrote the check, it paid. His toy, the one born of mischievous thoughts and idle time, got lots more use (honestly I think the leather has gotten such hard use these last two days that it’s begging for a proper landfill repose.]

    He flicked it. He flicked and flicked and flicked it and flicked and flicked and flicked it. And then after playing with my bottom like that for an unfathomable period of time he had the chuckling teasing audacity to tell me that he was ‘just’ flicking me. My butt had been twisting and gyrating wildly to escape every ‘flick’ the whole time! He knew darn well it was stinging. I couldn’t help it, I giggled and giggled and wriggled and wriggled. In case you’ve ever wondered, flicking produces a sting that remains sting and can’t every become zing. Yes it’s sexy as heck, prolonging the whole experience because it’s not something an already sore butt can fully adapt to. One reason of course is that no flick ever lands in the same place twice (especially with wonkily cut strips of an implement born of a dedicated spanker’s idle time.) The second is that I just don’t want it to stop until I find the pattern, while I just can’t keep from reacting to the sting either.

    We took an intermission. I stayed where I was supposed to be (butt up over pillows), he reclined on the wheeled desk chair with his hand on my back. CBS was on the tv, and whatever follows that took his attention while I dozed off. Something about suicide and “I’m not watching that shit,” brought me to. I reached back ad stroked his thigh, we talked, again about everything, anything and nothing, and then it was time for the spankings to resume.
    I had a long strapping with the blog strap and another near bliss inducing long, long, long tawsing. Of course before he started with the tawse he teased me.

    Several hard whaps and he asked me “what’s this?” I said “the tawse.” “Really?” he said and then he whapped me again several times with the real tawse. There was definitely a different sensation.

    “What is it?” his chuckle was gleeful. Then he alternated, tawse, ‘thing,’ tawse, ‘thing.’ I was stumped and wriggling like crazy.

    It was a loop of the rope we were supposed to be using! My goodness! So rope was used during our play that night, but not the way he’d planned to use it.

    After that he decided he wanted to see where my limits for that session were. He really let me have it with the tawse.

    “Is it yellow yet?” he paused and asked me.

    I struggled.

    “Say it,” he chuckled.

    I giggled, my desperation to get away was way too close to the surface, I said “yeah.”

    Several more times he challenged me with both his voice and hard licks of the tawse aimed low and setting fire to my weakest most tender spots. I was stubborn too long for my own good, but eventually I did say “Yellow, yes, yellow.”

    It was a good stopping point as it so often turns out when plans are circumvented by spontaneity.
    TV watching, some heated chatter about current events and the news, and the time came for him to go home and me to go to bed. It was close to midnight. I’m not a stay up late person…. Night night.

    ***

    On Saturday morning, nearly noon, I’d just gotten up to pee and take my Januvia when guess who was on the phone. Some plans had shifted and maybe we could play again that night. That would be nice, but so would his making time for the other things he needs. I was hopeful, but not really set on it.

    ***

    I used my quiet Saturday afternoon to finish my Thursday write up and I enjoyed a very special afternoon connection with an old (semi-old) friend. I had coffee, he had French onion soup, we talked, and we caught up on several fronts.

    ***
    Saturday spankings were not in the cards, but my Saturday ended up being blessedly refreshing anyway.
    Annnnnd remember that nasty pillow? Well, this morning it let me get up at 9. My flight wasn’t scheduled till 12:35. My breakfast came at 9:45 and as I was eating it the phone rang it was himself … we chatted for sometime, and then I got up and into the shower. I caught the 10:30 shuttle to catch my 12:35 flight. I was there at 10:40 & through security by 10:55. More lost pillow hours!

    Thunderstorms delayed my flight for well over another hour and I just know that darned pillow is still snickering and lying in wait for the next tired traveler who might beg for just a few more minutes of sleep…
    Home now, a long and full week is in my future… glad I got this written before work cut me off,

    Hope y’all are well.

    ;) patty

    11 Apr

    Good Thursday and … Friday still in progress

    A hello hug and some catching up, and then the segue.

    “Let’s try this out shall we?” he said, and I watched him roll his chair over closer to me while he formed and then crossed two loops in one of two lengths of nylon rope that he’d taken from his duffle. He had mischief shining in his eyes, and I should have known he wasn’t just testing out an idea. Nooooooo. He was hatching a plan…………

    At first the loops placed around my wrists were loose. “How’s that?” he asked.

    “Not too bad,” I answered, my mind was racing.

    Then some additional winding twisting and looping, and there was much less slack. When twisting my wrists (or should I say trying to twist my wrists) I discovered that my wrists’ range of motion in any direction was controlled by a hard stop. Too much twist and my bones bumped either rope or each other.

    “Too tight?” he grinned.

    “Well, no, not if I don’t twist my wrists.” I could have lied and said yes, but I was curious, and you know what they say about curiosity don’t you…. Sitting there with my wrists daintily folded in his hands was quite comfortable as long as I didn’t pull or twist against the rope.

    “Then don’t twist your wrists,” his smile was evil, and then he pulled me up to my feet.

    There was a brief suspension of time while furniture was rearranged, and then I found myself over the arm of the sofa with my sweat pants and panties being removed. I could support my torso on my elbows, but pushing up so my chest was off the seat cushions made my wrists twist enough to encounter the hard stop right over that outside wrist bone at the end of my right arm.

    I don’t recall which implement was applied first, but I do recall the sting.

    Multiple rounds with different toys brought forth many “oooooh’s! and aaaaaah’s! and giggles from me. And here’s one of the best signals that we are well matched as spankos, several times when particularly stingy swats landed and I could not control my giggle, he leaned down and tickled my neck and ear with “Te he he! I love that giggle,” then he went right back to whacking my poor (lucky) bare bum.

    The spanking was well underway, and I was past that initial adaptation to pain stage and getting in to the delicious sting stage when he interrupted our play to retrieve something from his duffle. He’d told me about a creative project he’d engaged in during some idle time he managed to scoff earlier in the day, now he wanted to show it to me. No, show it to me is not the right word. Demonstrate its diabolical functionality is much more descriptive of what he really wanted to do.

    [[How not to (or if you’re a mischievous spanker how to) recycle old leather belts: Cut a good 12 - 14 inch section and then cut slices at random widths leaving enough of an end to be a handle. Don’t worry if the slicing tool strays and you get side cuts and different lengths of strips. Just wait, you’ll find out why variable lengths of leather in your make shift tawse-cum-flogger are diabolical. Of course I must acknowledge that recycling is environmentally friendly. Then again when the environment most affected ends up being my lily white-pink bottom, well, I guess it’s better than having all that leather pile up in the landfill. But I digress….]]

    And demonstrate he did.

    “Oooooh, hey, owe!” I giggled even more, and as things progressed the demonstration impressed three pieces of information on me.

    Number one, pushing my torso up off the sofa cushions causes wrists to twist just enough that when the rope has been tied by a seasoned rope guy, that wriggle room hard stop will be encountered.

    “Oh, Owie!”

    Number two, diabolically recycled old leather belts modified with wonky blade strokes do not confine their impact to the area of bottom being aimed at. They have bits that stray and find narrow clefty places and when they dooooo, well, pushing ones chest up off the sofa cushions becomes instinct.

    And then number three, when my arms so wantonly betray my so artfully restrained wrists, and my torso raises up, the diabolical implement gets used with more intent, and it finds even more tender places for its wonky strips to stray to.

    I dropped my torso pretty quick and reverted to wriggling my bottom and kicking my legs. A lot more stinging whaps and a good deal more giggly “ouches” followed and then there was another brief suspension of activity.

    “No don’t get up,” his chuckle was infused with more mischief.

    I buried my face in the sofa cushions, half whining and half laughing. “Oh no, what now?”

    And then he was down on the floor behind me.

    “Spread your feet apart,” he said using his hands to help direct my ankles.

    “More rope!” my mind churned.

    First my right ankle was secured to the back leg of the sofa and then the rope was slung across to the other leg. Dumb me, my nervous energy caused me to move my right foot back toward the middle.

    “Oh, now that’s not good,” he laughed. “I’ll have to fix that.”

    He directed my errant foot back to the proper sofa leg, and proceeded to modify the loops he was making around my left ankle. He was satisfied, and stood up. I discovered the effect of my blunder. Now there was no slack, and my legs were secure and spread apart!

    “Thank you for showing me that I needed to pull up the slack.” He patted my bottom, and then he got hold of my blog strap (the gift from some of my readers.) Oh man! Sting and burn, and now my inner thighs were far too easily accessible.

    I thought I was already well and truly spanked. As it turned out we were not even close to halfway through.

    “You know, your bottom is nicely red,” his smile was audible. He was definitely proud of his hand and leather work.

    I giggled and said something silly like, “done red or not red enough yet red?”

    I got the answer pretty quick when I heard and felt the whistle sting of the Cane-Iac 5-twig spanking cane. He likes that one. He really likes it.

    My bottom likes it too, but my thighs and inner thighs! “Ohhhhhhh! Man o man!” It makes my giggles increase in frequency, that’s sure, but it also makes me wiggle and squirm and that sometimes increases the stray factor of toys with multiple tails and tips.

    I know we continued to play for quite a while, but as I got deeper into the wondrous state where sting and pain turn into a bliss inducing zing, I lost track of what was used how. The tawse (another of his favorites) came out and both ends were used with some force. His diabolical leather creation got quite a bit more use too.

    We reclined on the bed for a while after the main spanking was over. Our chat was easy and rambled over countless subjects from his work, to my work, to gas mileage, to spanking, to spanking web sites, to health (his and mine). I showed him my glucose meter with my 7, 14 & 30 day averages all under 120.

    Quiet time had to come to an end though, it was getting late and both of us were tired. I’d been up since 3 a.m. doing a surprise off shift inspection, then rushed to catch my flight, check in to my hotel, shower, then get to the assignment that brought me here, finish the first 4 hours of it and cab it back to my hotel.

    He started our ‘good nights’ by pushing me over so I was prone on the bed and really popped me for a good long hand spanking, and then finished with the tawse, giving me some real bum burners and a nice long volley of moderate strokes, the kind that sting just right and build up to a perfect burn that would keep me warm all night.

    Our evening closed with a good night hug in the doorway of my hotel room, with me in my t-shirt, and exposed bare and apparently very red bottom tingling in anticipation of a Good Friday night.

    And it was going to be a very good Friday….

    Tease, tease, tease….

    No pics from this visit I’m afraid. I forgot both my camera and my cell phone charger cable. Both highly spankable offenses I know, but trust me that has been well and truly dealt with this weekend. More about Friday is in the works… ;)

    [Edit: 4/11/09, 7:00 p.m.

    Oh my, I’ve been reminded of something that for some reason escaped me as I gave you my recounting of Thursday evening’s activity. There was a bit of activity that sort of snuck in between our quiet time and the end of the evening prone spanking.

    For the life of me I can’t imagine why it escaped my fingers as I typed this. It’s certainly not that I forgot that it happened that’s for sure.

    I was given even more education on Thursday evening, and the primary lesson I’ve taken away from it is that – when taken by surprise during a quiet moment, if you are curled on the bed innocently watching TV and your are wearing only a t-shirt, that a determined and gleeful spanker can get your legs, twist you on your back and spank your bum in a position ignominiously called the “diaper” position before you’re even aware it’s happening.

    In case you’ve never ‘enjoyed’ this experience, may I please share these tips?:
    • hand swats to butt cheeks make full contact and fingers wrap and sting a lot,
    • twiggy multi strip canes and wonky cut leather creations find even more ouchie places for their errant tips/strips to stray to, and
    • solid leather swats across the whole expanse of bottom do not bridge the divide, they scald the puffy islands in the stream/valley between the mounds.

    Just so ya’ll are more prepared than I was…. ☺ I should have been wary, but ya’ know, I was just so cozy. He’d asked about it and explored it in conversation many times in the past. I shared my reticence (the exposure and all ya’ know?) but left it there for him to opt for. He’s getting to know what I can’t do, he’s getting to know what I’m uncomfortable doing and he knows that when all he gets is a blush and a shrug he’s hit on a ‘now there’s an idea worth pursuing.’ The diaper position inquiry was one of those blushed shrug things. I should have seen it coming.

    There was a nice and instructive interlude of this play between quiet time and the prone good night spanking and hugs…

    I’ve been told that this omission will cost me. Lordy, lordy, lordy … I can only ‘anticimagine’ or maybe ‘fanticimagitipate’ just what that means…. ;) there you go… full disclosure.]

    08 Apr

    5 days ….

    My blood sugars have stayed in the normal range for 5 straight days. 7 day average 108, 14 day average 111 and 30 day average …. ta da …. 119.

    Aaaaaannnd….. things are looking up for some serious spanking activity tomorrow night. I sure hope I’m awake for it. Gotta get up at 3 a.m. and do a surprise night shift inspection, then hit the office to write it up before hopping on a plane to get to my next assignment before noon.

    I’m going to use some of my points to extend my stay in the city where I’ll be working tomorrow. That should increase the odds for a few spankings fitting in.

    Should spankings occur details will follow.

    :)
    patty

    05 Apr

    Goal almost met…. holy cow!

    remember my last post where I set my next goal ..”So next goal, 7 and 14 day averages below 120 and at least 3 days with no readings over 120.” Well today, only 2 days withall readings in the normal range, but with the past few days of good readings seem to have made another change up, todays normals brought my 7 day average to 111 (the 191 from last Sunday morning dropped off my 7 days, my 14 day average is 120, and my 30 day average down to 134. I have normal 7 & 14 day averages and two full days of normal…

    Oh and the universe willing that all thing go as planned, some spankings are in order very soon. I have a congratulations session coming for passing yet another national certification exam in my longgggg nursing career as well as some good natured stingers for finding certain “that’s life” type things funny. Then again I have uncounted less fun whaps coming for self doubt, general whining, and of course boring bitching. Could be the stars are lining up to take care of these things. We’ll see soon enough.

    Back to drawing. Night ya’ll.

    patty

    Remember this one?

    03 Apr

    One wish granted, another…?

    Well, I got the wish I was hoping for related to my blood sugars. Morning = 118 (normal), noon = 91 (normal) supper = 100 (normal) and now right before bed = 109 (also normal). My 7 day average is 124, and stranger than strange my 14 day average is 119, thirty days has really come down from the high 200’s to 144, but really the 200’s were really the readings from my 1st week skewing everything. I have only just reached 30 days today so the drop from the high 200’s to 144 actually shows that overall my progress has been good. So next goal, 7 and 14 day averages below 120 and at least 3 days with no readings over 120. After that 30 days below 120 and then only very rare days with any reading over 120.

    Next wish … getting spanked again soon. Looks like that just might happen within the next two weeks, maybe more than once. Keeping fingers crossed. Send positive thoughts this way ok?

    Going to try and write some more spanky stuff this weekend, and get my scanner problems solved.

    :)
    patty

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