Archive for December, 2006

I love y’all… ya know.. a couple of things OK

Wednesday, December 27th, 2006

The preface to my post about snotty folks calling me lewd and vulgar really was intended to be light hearted. Seriously, folks who read and regularly comment on sex & spanking blogs have much more serious issues than I do if they’re gonna label the blogger they voraciously consume as lewd and vulgar. And may I say it was a voracious consumer, and as a matter of fact, an on going, very regular visitor of this blog who made that observation. It’s funny, if sad, and telling at the same time, not about me at all any more, but about the ego of the person who considers their own interests and predelictions so objectionable that they would/must persue them daily, visiting sites like mine several times a day, and then dare label me as the one who is lewd and vulgar. Awwwwwww! OK enough about that!!! I meant to make you smile & yeah giggle just a bit with me …….

I’m not perfect, heck I’m extremely flawed as human’s come, but there is one thing I am not, and that’s even a little bit ashamed of seking an openess about myself as a sexual human being or promoting that quest for others. Yes I got off to a bad start on line (no more excuses!), but even in the unfortunate start, my message hasn’t shifted… trust your self… Normal is irrelevant, healthy is the key, and healthy is always going to be what strengthens and bonds healthy adults. Spanking has that capacity to bond, whether it’s purely for sex, a blend of sex and serious, mostly or only serious spanking. Outsiders don’t get to judge. Those of us who share, dare and care may seek to support if allowed. No matter what, your needs and desires openly and offered with trust and sincerity to your partner deserve respect and with your committment & your partner’s nurture love and understanding, CAN be…..

That said here’s some images to help poor o’l Doc Tsai’s interventions with me seem much more … ummm. eh- hm… I guess severe?? LOLOLOL Sorry Tsai You & I know there was no wimping on either of our part… sooo yeah here’s some pics that might help rescue your image as a mucho seriouso spankmiester (which we both know without question you are no matter how the audio sounds….) … hehehehehehe I can vouch for you as a VERY sound and and VERY severe spanker… - when you want to be… *grin* Of course I’m no whimp recieving either… LOLOLOLOLOLOL

This comes from a different visit that Tsai may some day choose to share… it shows the straddle position that gave him such ballistic access to the more vulnerabl parts of my cheeks…

the leather paddle he used during our 1st session… It’s a very ouchie implement by the way….

the result of the straddle paddle position and the uderside of the cheeks effort with the vermont country store bath brush that is very well ouched, ow, ow, owed in the sound bites…

May I point out that injuries like this have nothing to do with brutality, and virtually never can the spanker see it coming until it’s to late. They can happen after 10 whaps or 1,110 whaps. Don’t let them worry you. Appreciate the moment that produced them, let them heal and expect them if you should ever want to go further. Flesh is often not up to the heart….. :)

LOLOLOL

Wednesday, December 27th, 2006

Considering part of yesterday’s post ,,,, the you tube video you’ll find here, is just hilarious…

Fart Consequences

Boxing Day, Turkey Farts and Appetites

Tuesday, December 26th, 2006

As I contemplate the title of this post, I am compelled to smile. The why will remain my secret, though I want to share that it represents a healthy transition from taking someone’s ugly vitriol personally and finally being able to laugh at its meaning and ultimately letting it go. Vulgar, lewd, sinful. LOLOLOL Me? Of course I am, aren’t we all; some of us simply more inclined to examine rather than hide or judge that part of ourselves?

And so… today’s post….

I went to work today, lots to do so I can have next week off & go home to Canada, though I did manage to get away by 3:30. From my first hours there the relaxed atmosphere my co-workers exuded struck me. While I’m certain that some of the hooded sleepy eyes were made of real fatigue, the calm satisfied aura was definitely made of more. Most of the office, ancillary and administrative staff were off today, taking the day in lieu of Christmas Eve, even though in some parts of the world there is a perfectly legitimate and civilized holiday that needn’t have been a greedy substitute – yup, Boxing Day. Here in the US the day after Thanksgiving is the heaviest shopping day of the year, in Canada and the UK, Boxing Day is. The popular myth is that all good Canuks & Brits box up many of those oddly chosen gifts from various and sundry well meaning relatives and rush en mass to the exchange counter. Of course that’s not the true sentiment behind Boxing Day. But whatever it’s original meaning it is a holiday.

Whether it was relief that the mad rush is over, or contented bliss from lingering indulgence, everyone I interacted with smiled and visibly approached everything with a calm I haven’t enjoyed with them for some time. I hope the energy lingers for a while. Even the deadlines I was at work to get ahead of today, though hard to fully flesh out and even harder to put away incomplete on Friday, seemed easy to measure up to, and just flowed off my fingers into plans and presentations.

My office is in a suite constructed within an office building next door to the hospital. My department shares the space (very cramped space) with IT & S, and Marketing. Don’t get me wrong, I like my office - it’s the first one I’ve had in 15 years in nursing/hospital management that has a window, but, there is only one bathroom in the entire suite, and guess what? It is located in a cul-de-sac hall that is completely occupied by men. Have you ever had to poop or pee on the day after Christmas in a bathroom with paper-thin walls? Let me just say one thing… Turkey farts! I happen to know I’m not alone experiencing this unique consequence of this season, and that each of the men occupying the offices flanking the lonely captive commode are long and intimately familiar with this fact of life, but I must say it was somewhat embarrassing. Turkey farts just cannot be controlled in the SBD tradition of pea soup farts… (SBD being silent but deadly, and every consumer of Habitant™ French Pea soup understand it’s association) but even if they could there is the problem of escaping the lavatory unseen and unconnected with that over-ripe seasonal, yet oddly so unique and personally imbued deposit. Flush, wait, flush again and wait…. The air handling system simply will not clear ‘the air.’ In fact your lingering and efforts only serve to draw attention to your plight. When I took too long answering the call after my quick cafeteria breakfast I was busted. Much to my demure embarrassment, after I flushed a third time washed again and gave up the closet to my distressed male co-worker, we both burst out laughing. The hallway was ripe with his plight. Poor guy! But so was the bathroom with mine! Turkey! And so the guys in the cul-de-sac hall let loose … yeah probably with hundreds and hundreds of unrestrainable turkey farts of their own, but more significantly with good natured chuckles. I had to giggle several times today, not just each time I looked their way, but each time I traveled the hallways of the hospital, went in to the dry cleaners, stopped at the money machine, stood in line to pat for gas and buy 3 liters of sprite, and realized that my nostrils detected that same tell tale remnant of the holiday and the generative indulgence shared with loved ones and those who care.

Words, hugs, laughter, smiling, sleepy, peaceful, and contented conversation and interactions and yes, even mild embarrassment and a seasonal olfactory onanism helped today feel special. Weird? Who knows…

And so….

Feeling contented and warm, as her day drew to a close, she let her mind stray to the places her flesh beckoned.

“Later!” she promised breathlessly when her hips squirmed impatiently in her chair. She was trying to work, and it was going well.

“Please! I promise!” She whispered when her fingers rebelled against reaching for the phone as it rang when her nipples tingled insistently.

And then she was home, her body ready for the shower, her flesh in need of much more than the flushing rush of hot water. Her body screamed, her flesh led the siren call … ‘The silken sheets of your bed and needy pulp of your finger tips want you first.’ The weak and the strong blended, and for her whole being there was no escaping what she had to do. Rich though the season was with indulgence of every kind, one appetite had been set aside in favor of family, work and fatigue. It would not be pushed away today, and there was nothing capable of pushing it down once all commitments were honored and the only one remaining could not be for now.

She dropped her clothing readying herself for the shower. Unexpectedly the cool air woke her nipples. “Warm!” they called to her hands, and instantly the call was obeyed. Palms and fingers pressed, the vestigial purpose of erection was not lost. No question, the effects of cold exposure was a sexual survival signal belonging to centuries past. At this moment, she didn’t know or care about that evolutionary possibility, though her body immediately responded to the sexual nourishment of the neuronal umbilicus that connected her nipples to her cunt. Her clit pressed up and out from under its thin protective hood, her pussy pulsed expressing the clear silken bubble of lubricant her body had been holding back all day.

“Please?” her whole being asked, and life conspired to say yes. As it should, now & then… ☺

Please, please please don’t leave the posts Doc Tsai made go un answered… I’m scared to death with worry about how they’ll be taken… please?

love

p

Visiting Doc Tsai…

Sunday, December 24th, 2006

Here I was lamenting there would be no holigay spankings for me, and what does he do? He lets me know he’s getting ready to post some of our old spankings togeher …. my first Spankings as a single woman are about to be featured on line… eep.

My friend Doc Tsai has assembled a number of platonic spanking friends, and I am one of them. He was the 1st to help me dare venture out beyond my past and inertia…. The 1st spanking is up under the heading Visit me (top right links section) ,then choose patty, then at the bottom of the page The sting. After reading Tsai’s accounting follow the link to the sounds…. Or you can check them out from here.

Visit Me

Patty’s 1st Visit

The Sting

The Sting Sound

If you go back up to Patty& WMD There are new links to Patty meets WMD (heavier implements) with two more different sound files these are from our second visit.

WMD 1

WMD 2

Thank you Tsai.

computer gremlins…

Saturday, December 23rd, 2006

I stopped by All things Spanking today only to discovery thy have to start over building their whole blog because of a server problem…. & here I’ve been whining about bugs,,,,

best holiday wishes you guys… hope you get some visitors to encourage you with the task a head… :)

Go say hi & say the spanked elf sent you…

The Winter Solstice

Friday, December 22nd, 2006

Just some thoughts…..

As we cross over from these past months of waning light, through the longest night and into the coming months where light is returned to us increment by increment, I think that it’s significant that so many religions and cultures mark this time with celebration. We have as a species, from the most primitive times, instinctively grasped the rebirth and newness inherent in this transition.

Did you know that today has been designated Global Orgasm Day? I didn’t until I visited Sexoteric a little while ago. Princeton University has chosen the winter solstice for this random global event. The longest night of the year, is of course a great choice for promoting an activity typically given to the night. With luck you have had your orgasm today, or will tonight. If not, I don’t think that getting one in tomorrow will put you far behind, after all there’s a long season within which and from which we’ve collectively given this transition of light event significance. What if we tried to go for on or more everyday for the whole season?

From the first of the twelve days of Christmas, through Hanukah, Kwansa, Little Christmas & Chinese New Year, we’ve blocked out an expansive stretch for the celebration of the transition into the longest of the dark and then back to light, while in the southern half of the world the transition moves the other way.

I think that the summer Solstice should also be given global orgasm designation, not just to offer equality to our Aussie friends, or even because achieving orgasm is a supremely healthy activity, not to mention pleasant; but to acknowledge those of us who have always enjoyed coming in daylight. Double Global orgasm Day. Gift giving at its best… ya think?

Twas the Night Before Spankmas

Thursday, December 21st, 2006

copyright 2006, by patty

T’was the night before Spankmas and all through the brat
Ran shivers of need for a reddened spanked ass.
Her panties were down round her ankles with flare
In hopes that her spanker expected her bare.

Secret needs that hid down there deep in her soul
And dreams of her bare bum turned red was her goal.
Needy bum trembling, her panties half-mast
He steadied his strap for a firm well-aimed cast

When up she dared stand with objections and chatter
Saying “Ouch Sir! I’m changing my mind on this matter!”
Firm hands on his hips, his ire did flash
“You asked for this brat! We’ll let fly the lash.”

Her moons took the best of her Top’s focused ire
Illusions of goodness could not stop the fire.
Then what to her red bottomed woe did transpire?
Why, a black Martinet that laid stripes very dire.

With lashes so lively and ever so quick
She knew in an instant her bottom was whipped.
More rapid than ever the spanking strokes fell
“Take care what you wish for — you might get it well.

Behave brat, now listen and don’t be a vixen,
Because brat bottoms pay with this attitude fixin’.”
As visions of tears that with spankings should fall
Something fought lashes and forestalled them all.

‘Till the trust wall was breached by her deep need to cry
And his careful heart knowing she was more than just shy.
So in to the living their fantasies flew
Hearts filled with wishes had made them come true.

And then in a twinkling he gave her more proof
The harsh stroke of his hand became much less aloof.
The track of his fingers then brought forth a sound
So both of them knew that a gift had been found.

The bundle of toys her Top strung on his back
Made the brat crumble and stop in her track.
His eyes how they twinkled, her quest made him merry
Her lily white bottom was now red as a cherry.

The gift of her bottom, the gift of his hand
Was out in the open now tested and tanned
This holiday venture though hard to embrace
Fears overcome made trust worthy of chase.

A holiday themed drive by posting

Wednesday, December 20th, 2006

There’s something almost fun about composing posts in e-mail, then playing who’s more stubborn, me or this darned machine when it comes to getting the post pasted and uploaded… I’m on my 9th try tonight. hehehe… boy do I need a spankin… th air in this room is blue, blue, blue… a longshoreman would whither.. lololol

a little seasonal humor for you….

Please do check out these links….. lolololol. I’d love t know your thoughts…

A novel gift

Elvin magic

Jingle gas???

Twas the night before…

oops two more trys before it actually posted whole. lolol make that 13 total…. I’m nothing if not persistent…. oops strike that 14

snicker

Tuesday, December 19th, 2006

when you can only keep a connection for a minute or so … this is how you beat the boot beasties… I’m getting comments on my palm though, even if I can’t stay on long enought to finsh any answers. Just a few more days… ok

Limpy’s

Monday, December 18th, 2006

Aren’t these cute?

You can get one here ….Limpy

doing things

Saturday, December 16th, 2006

1. I ordered a basic new laptop from HSN at $233 a month for 5 months. Not quite the machine I have, but hopefully it will function until I get things fixed with what I have.
2. I found a 4 GB usb jump drive and that should help me transfer the files from my floundering laptop that I can’t burn to CD until I accomplish the system restore.
3. I bought namowebeditor software. I doesn’t care about Mac or windows, and seems to have some features neiher dreamweaver or frnt[age have….
4. I ordered a RAM upgrade for my iMAC G5 (at the recommendation of a few readers) I have 512 MB, but am probably trying to use software that needs more, especially if I’ve got several open at once. So I’ve ordered 2 GB. Windows doesn’t act quite so snotty as Mac when you do that, it mostly slows down. Give me my druthers to having things slow down and losing everyting by being booted & I’ll take slow any day!!!!
5. I’ve ordered an adobe creative suite/photoshop version for mac that will let me move the files I have saved on my laptop to both this mac and my soon to arrive laptop.

Man o man do I need a stress relief spanking. I’m feelin bitchy y’know? That kind of don’t mess with me mood that exudes growl to everyone who’s unfortunate enought to venture to close. I’ve done what I can, as pro-actively as I can practically to address the immediate shit. Now to get back to relaxing. LOLOL Which is supposed to be what this whole internet blog and enjoy thing is about right ….

I would like to be able to have self play slide shows I could post for each gallery, and I’d love to make a single site to go with this blog that makes it possble to post a story that nestles in it’s permanent home at the same time as it posts on the blog. Lindy has been very busy getting herself three chapters through her sentence, & I have two new Eamon & Sheila Stories ready, but this blog shrinks posts based on word count…. With luck by mid week next week I’ll be able to post new artwork too. The printer/scanner/fax software needs an image/photo editing program to function so I can upload files that are managable.

I’m sure there’s got to be an easier way… I’m starting to feel abaout computer functionality the same way I feel about car mantenance…..
\

There once was a woman named Pat
Who frittered resources on scat
So much did she spend
To no useful end
Her banker just called her a brat

Miss Patty just did as she pleased
She quibbled, she barked and she teased
Her pocketbock balked
Though spending *needs* stalked
Control missed a stern pair of knees

FUCK!

Wednesday, December 13th, 2006

and I’m literally in tears with this!!! What makes the be all and end all of tghis Mac computer sytem that I invested huge money into yet IT has turned into a? Why does everyone on earth have this spiritual experience with Mac, yet I can’t seem to get more than a functional day out of this hugely expensive system?

I gave up earlier after being booted, crumpled, shut down and disabled for no reason. Shut down literaly with no warning - sometimes just one program - some times several programs, just sponaeously close on me — every day, multiple time a day. The only clue, a predictable chaoic big,little, big, little - dissaray of the letters in titles of toolbar and program titles on on screen or desk top. Like a kids play tease… the words on the screen literally look like this but with every other letter missing too. i T h a S B e E n G i V e N = it has been given. EVERYONE told me I was an idiot sticking with MS. hence paying for two new gateway’s (one for me & one for Todd)since I got this MAC lemon has made me worry that I’m missing somethng with this hugely expensive schell I’m stuck with right now. I was lured to MAC precisecely to avoid the recycling short lived (& 18 month or so) MS experience…. BUT, I’ve at least been able to use every MS product beyond a week or two before having to problemsolve a connectivity or simply ’stay on’ feature. The same cannot be said for this MAC.

Well, until I get my 2 year old gateway laptop fixed it seems I’m at the mercy of the slimey rip off Macintosh. It cost more than double what my laptop did. Just so you know!!!!!

I’ve cleaned and completely reloaded everything, I’ve avoided reloading the so called culprit programs. None of this matters! I am firmly coming out with this declaration…. I have had two Mac’s neither worked well enough for me to stick with them beyond a year, this last and MOST expensive, >$2,700.00, this one I’m trying to make do with & really haven’t ever been able to use withjout bugs galore for even 3 months at a stretch. Let’s not count the 1,700 plus dollars worth of Mac only compatible software I’ve invested in but NEVER really had the opportunity to test or use.

I’m officially ANTI Mac!!!!!! Nothing will change my mind except an actually working version of their software and better yet a working physical computer that doesn’t crash everytime it’s turned on. I’m serious!

Even though I’ve invested literally thousands of dollars in my connectivity this year, my connectivity is hit and miss. I’m sorry for ranting again… I’m fit to be tied!!!!! (and darn it no hope of getting tied any time soon) Fixing my lap top right now means doing a system restore. That means loosing everything I haven’t backed up off my c-drive. Leaving it alone to save everything means buying a new back up drive machine because the DVD RW drive needs the winsock thing that the malware seems to have corrupted.

I could pay another 500 a month for 5 months on a new gateway system, but hey… I’ve got sooooo much invested here… and this useless mac is way up there on the list of must resolve issues. grrrrrrrrrr

ty for listeningggg

Santa Baby

Wednesday, December 13th, 2006

Got a karioke machine? Try singing the lyrics typed here along to this original tune …. Santa Baby

Santa Baby, slip a paddle under the tree
For me
Been and awful bad girl, Santa Baby,
So shimmy down my panties tonight

Santa Baby, a sturdy leather tawse and switch too
From you
I’ll wait bent for you, dear, Santa baby
So shimmy down my panties tonight

Think of all the swats I have missed
Think of all the Toppies I’m gonna tease
Next year I could be just as bad
If you’ll check on your bad girl list

Santa baby, I need a spanking that’s firm and sore,
A lot
Been a bad girl all year, Santa Baby,
So shimmy down my panties tonight

Santa Honey, one little thing I really need
The deed
My bare ass on the line, Santa Baby
So shimmy down my panties tonight

Santa Cutie, stripe my backside well with a tawse
And cane
Sign your X on my flesh, Santa Cutie
And shimmy down my panties tonight

Come and tan my errant ass
With some straps bought at Leatherthorn
I really do believe in you
Lets see if you believe in me

Santa Baby, for got to mention one little thing
The sting
T’s what I’m counting on, Santa Baby
Hurry down my chimney tonight, to shimmy down my panties just right, hurry … tonight

a little decorating

Tuesday, December 12th, 2006

A mental health day…

Can’t call it a snow day, since it’s 74 degrees outside, even if it is cloudy. Could call it a sick day, since I’ve had this bug that just won’t let go for well over a month now, but even though the morning started out with a headache and very tight chest, sick is stretching it. Tired of it is more appropriate. I have moments where I feel almost well in the morning, and then by noon my head aches, I tremble with chills, and if I’ve had to do much talking I spend a lot of the afternoon and evening coping with spasms of dry irritated coughing that is coming from a raw area that deep down in my chest. Sometimes the cough spasms are so hard the muscles between my ribs get Charlie horse like cramps. Man that hurts! This morning I woke up with chills and the whole right side of my chest feeling like I’ve been mule kicked. So, since my calendar at work had only one meeting, and I’m already prepared for what I have to do Wednesday I called in to take a personal day.

I took a nap until about 9 AM then got up and came out here to see what I could find in a leisurely surf on line. I visited probably 30 blogs and spent time catching up by reading back well into October’s posts on many. I found that some friends have moved, one or two have expanded, a few have closed up shop, everyone’s tackling holiday stress and preparations, some have done or are doing battle with microbial beasties too. Some Gratitude Tuesday posters are up to Z, some Y and I even saw a few who’ve just tackled X. I came across a new idea being called Masturbation Monday on a couple of blogs and had to giggle. My post from last night certainly qualifies and was accidentally on time. Although I must admit I didn’t know there was such a movement going on out there. Padme’s been interviewing many of our amazing community’s willing players, asking neat questions and getting some insightful answers. Figleaf’s been consistently sensual and brilliant, and thank you to the godess of sensuality, Magdelena is back and still worships so honorably at her feet. !

I read several meme’s and responses from various points of view. I was tempted to take the hint and post one of my own, but then that would take away from reading everyone else’s. All in all I surfed, read and smiled quietly enjoying the view into so many richly creative minds. All in all I spent well over 6 hours surfing blogs I haven’t visited in weeks.

Well, then came three thirty and Dr. Phil was being particularly pedantic which turned my mind off whatever topic might otherwise be of interest. Bum (as in homeless people) bashing and stick thin models banned from Spain’s runways. I’m not quite sure what the connection is, but the opening tone of he show pissed me off, so it became back ground noise.
My legs were stiff so I kicked off the covers and flexed them a bit.

Gee I have nice calves and shins. The muscles and sinews are full and healthy, although I think I’ll make a date with my Lady Gillett this evening. Even my right calf muscles have shape and definition, odd considering my right knee is contracted by severe arthritis and since it no longer straightens properly due to thick bone spurs the thigh muscles above it that help your leg lock have atrophied to almost nothing. Strange things we do with idle time huh? I gave myself almost a full 5 minutes flexing and admiring my ankles and calves. The perspective is very different when your legs are lifted where you can admire them supine. Standing, checking out the fit of a skirt and appropriate match of shoes is a whole different experience.

I then shifted my ambition to looking for some seasonal images and backgrounds, and then after about 40 minutes of false trails finally figured how to use the godaddy ftp client that I pay for with my pattysgallery account, most of it spent hunting every possible folder on this Mac until I found where my uploaded pictures were hiding…. That done, I tweeked my template and added what I hope you’ll agree are nice subtle stock backgrounds that add a quiet seasonal feel.

Did you know that my old blog still gets more than 2,000 unique visitors a day? This one enjoys just under 1000 though the nicest thing for me is the 200 – 300 of you who are regular returning visitors. One of the things that really surprises me is that the traffic to pattysgallery is not the same traffic to this blog. Even the incoming links and came from urls are different. Odd, and something I may need to study a bit.

I noticed Bonne’s most recent Sunday brunch (December 10) topic about the degree of being out. It was interesting to read everyone’s responses. Lot’s of thoughts about that are sifting through my brain. The honest truth is, that while the subject simply doesn’t come up in everyday work related conversations, having been cornered by a blackmailer so that it just made sense to pre-empt them and reveal my blog and all of its implications to my employer, has, so far at least, not ruined my life or career. Sure it was incredibly upsetting and intensely stressful at the time, in the fallout, life has gone on and very little has changed. In truth, in-spite of the sensational nature of the revelations about my private predelictions and the sensitive nature of the work I do, my career has not ben hurt, but rather has enjoyed several challenges and boosts this year. I’d already been found on line by a co-worker who made sure to share his discovery with most of my peers by then even though I had no clue. They knew, and had known for more than a year. I wish I’d been aware of that at the time, but I wasn’t, so I went through a very stressful period of extreme worry, that could have been much easier than it was if I’d known. No one in my real life treated me differently, and no one in my real life treated me as a bad person. I’m out to my therapist too, and while I’m still grappling with some uncomfortable insights about my life until now, I’m now more sure than ever that healthy relationships are not about being “normal” as much as they are about open mutuality, acceptance, unselfish generosity and way up there on top, mutual trust and respect. My mother already knew I’d been threatened with a spanking now and then, I don’t know what she really grasped of it. She recently got on line when my brother, who is an animation entrepreneur moved back home from France and needed internet connectivity. He’s not going to be there long, but his passage through her home has forced connections she’s never had the impulse to explore. I’ve sent her some of my better drawings in e-mail. I’ll let her be the one to lead if further disclosures are welcome. In the last 5 years on line, I’ve gone from living in abject fear of having my secret spanking desire revealed, to gradually opening up and putting more and more of it out there. So much of what I shared from that initial place of deep insecurity came out in a relieved torrent, into the 1st format that welcomed it. No more recriminations about mistakes made though …. It’s out. It’s out here forever, and really, I’m not ashamed of who I am, and sincerely believe that everyone who matters will adapt and integrate what they need to in order to keep you.

I’ve learned something just recently, as much as I fear losing others, most of those who really matter in my life are subject to the same fears in reverse.

Certainly there’s no need to bombard casual friends with details of your sexual life, by the same token withholding intimacies from your intimates creates barriers. The more you invest in a barrier, the harder it becomes to explain why when it gets breached and what you’ve been hiding comes out.

Most parents want happy children. If your life with your significant other is strong, and your basic comfort and stability is what you lean on and they see, having them find out and ask questions is nothing more than one of those discomforting conversations kids & parents have on any number of topics. And I have a theory about you and siblings… You are a spanko … there’s good evidence this is a consequence your basic genetic wiring. The chances are very good that your siblings and several other of your relatives are too.

Anyway, I’m out, not just on line, but also in my day to day world. Nothing about being out other than the discomfort of the initial realization that what I though was secret wasn’t has proved out to be the thing I’ve feared and hidden from all my life…. What a waste of precious time!

Well I’m off to the shower & an early bedtime…. Y’all be well

Mental muddles & where they let you go…

Monday, December 11th, 2006

Do you ever have stretches of time where you feel out of touch with your own mind? Where completing a linear thought feels like a super human task? I’ve started and abandoned a hundred posts about topics from copyright to spanking to going to weddings to just being to silly poems and sexy sensual vignettes over the last weeks.

LOL, Yeah I’m admitting that for the last several weeks I’ve been close to vegetative. Having computer problems hasn’t helped, especially because in my muddled pre-occupied state I’ve made the mistake of mostly hoping they’re transient glitches and will go away. Well they weren’t and they won’t. My laptop has officially crashed as far as internet connectivity goes, and I will be lucky to rescue anything before I have to resort to a full system restore. The real challenge is not just going to be getting back my half done never posted writings and all of my saved archives from he old blog, but also finding the CD’s & what the heck I did with my software including the discs that came with the laptop.

In the meantime I’m back using my G-Mac. It was buggy, shutting down with no warning, every 20 minutes or less, but since I did its system restore, upgraded the Tiger OS 10 version it came with and have refrained from loading any windows based programs on it, so far … touch wood … secret no jinx prayer and water & salt “keep this system up and going please, please, please all you IT gods & goddesses,” it’s been behaving… well for the 36 hours I’ve had it back on and in use anyway.

I’m without a scanner & printer driver & without my photoshop or any equivalent image managing software. Yeah I have some new drawings done including a silly CSW logo thing, but before I can use my scanner, I’ve got to bite the bullet & buy the Mac versions of Photoshop or the fire thing that comes with macromedia. I’m also without Frontpage, the software I used to create this blog and the connected gallery website. I’ve got Freeway, but it’s very different than Frontpage. I’ll have to rebuilt the whole gallery in Freeway and re-upload it in order to be able to edit any of the pages going forward. Even my more complex, but paid for Dreamweaver Macromedia suite version is the Windows version. At least with Dreamwaever I know how to preserve the Frontpage basics. I’ve got three very expensive programs that I own, paid for legitimately & can’t use on my Mac! That really pisses me off. This business of license by machine is a racket. I’m the owner, I’ve paid a whole shit load of money, the fact that I have to move every year or so to a new machine, or that I may own two different operating systems at one time should not limit the portability of products I have paid through the ringer for!… I can move every other high dollar appliance that I own with me wherever I go. I should be allowed to move software that I paid more than my computer for with me too!!!!!!

OK, I’m done ranting…. But… just so you know,

The wordpress interface for this blog supports absolutely none of the rich text posting tool bar, just like blogger didn’t, so I’m back to having to use raw code just to make simple posts y’all can read again … but … when I restored this Mac to it’s basic system to try and cure it’s bugs, I lost all the sample how to code for this & that files I’d saved and clustered in a tool box folder, so, I’m once again barely literate and in need of motivation to go hunting for how to tutorials again.

Like I said I’m not quite competent to complete an actual thought lately, forcing myself back into adapting to a Mac environment instead of riling against its incompatibility with 90 % of what I want to do the way I’m economically set up to do it, is a bit beyond me for the moment… It will have to do & I will have to fix my laptop or do without it; even buying a new one will not give me back everything I had loaded on it….

Getting myself organized so I can actually get a post up at all has taken me three days.

Oooooooooohhhhmmmmmmmmmm mMmMmMmMmMmMmMmmmmmmmmmmm Uhmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm…..

Come with me to the sensual release of all the preceeding nervous tension… As Magdelena of Myths and Metawhores suggests with Water Baby’s hmmmm… here’s an attempt at a distracted erotic aside….

I came in the door, a disconnected urgency disrupted or rather I would better say, prevented, my peace. Lately, everything and anything had taken on the power to occupy my mind. I was overwhelmed with my own mind’s miriade of voices, thoughts, baseless urgent impulses that chattered and carried on with little more than disconnected, disjointed just noise. Nothing at all with any semblance of meaning managed to pierce the din, until the sensual silken cool of the evening air made it possible for me to find the simple words tonight. “Shut up!” I whispered to the muddled, chatter that had been my thoughts for days.I’d driven home with my car windows open, and the bordering on cold air had just about taken my senses over. Some of you may not be able to identify with this, but as a woman raised where there are seasons, and real and severe cold was an entrenched part of life … there are times when it truly feels like nature takes that kind of cold and turns it into a cruel tease down here. An evening kissing the 50’s where driving home reminds you what cool feels like and that sweaters have a purpose, both refresh senses and pester them. By the time I chirp locked my car, collected my mail and locked my front door behind me, my flesh was awake and wanting the kind of attention that, while it might eventually sooth, would first bring a crest to all the screaming desires that my intellectual confusion couldn’t drown out any more.

I needed to feel a a no holds barred spanking. I needed to come. I needed my flesh to properly answer the teasing, and trembling that the cool front driven air that I revel in and grumble so much about this time of year; the cruel tease of the cold, the sensual far too transient cool, and then the persistent, cruel, dominating heat that always comes back too soon, and will not even let the cool possess a week to play with my senses…. My senses, my needs, all of me was on edge.

The hot water and stiff pulse of the shower massage were completely successful in capturing and corralling the scatter my mind had become. The heat and battering of the pulsing water even tried to reign in my errant and needy senses. My flesh blushed deep pink with the heat, my mind fell asleep with the warmth and rhythmic drum of jets, my nerves came alive and expectant with the harsh pulsing throb the water became.

Just as the tease of the silken cool of the south TX winter air left me feeling a nameless restlessness, the heat and vigorous pulse of the water focused my needs. Warmed, feeling cleansed and needy I took the bath brush to bed, my sheets covered with bath towels, my pillows piled ready to take my hips propped for what was to come.

The spanking began slowly inhibited by the sting of wood directed with purpose against water warmed and very wet flesh. The purpose quickly won out, and achieving more sting beat that. There is an odd sensual glory in the experience of a very scalded bare bottom. There is nothing at all on earth to compare with coming hard an more than once as a hard wood brush relentlessly and frantically impacts your battered bare bottom, unless it happens when someone you care about is the one who wields the brush.

My shower was sweet, my spanking sweeter, and then, as much as I took the warmth of the water to reinforce my love of the truly transient weather, the hot pulsing shower massage took my pussy again the way he would have…. Hot, hard and rough…

Like I said, I’m in a mental muddle…. slightly refreshed … now though, but Lordy!

Shameless plug…

Tuesday, December 5th, 2006

I’ve added a new Christmas card & ornament and undies to my store in case anyone’s looking or spanky gifts to give… check out the For the Holidays section…

and these are still there too..

 

An Evening……..

Sunday, December 3rd, 2006

His firm hand pressed the small of her back quieting her instantly.  He placed it with perfect, crisp, weight, guiding her away from flames her temper just ignited and threatened to fan.  Her bottom cringed and her body shivered with gooseflesh and secret knowledge.   Both felt the millisecond of stiff rebellion that froze then trembled through her.  The salsa lilt that filled the room as the band opened a new set, gave him an almost perfect rolling wave to use to lift and lead her away from table chatter trouble and on to the dance floor.  She let her body answer his.  “Look at me,” his growl perceptible over the rush of blood in her ears and the frenetic music that blanketed the whole room, only because her shoulder pulled up hard against the sudden cringe against his hot breath on her neck and forced her mind to pick the words out by instinct.

She couldn’t obey.  Instead she buried her face in his festive tie, wishing the lapels of his dark jacket would stay propped and keep her face forever hidden from everyone. 

It was the music, the gleefully oblivious progression of the salsa, that gave her no choice.  Natural steps took her back, lead her around, and while his one hand still held firm on that one most meaningful spot, the other gave its hold on her shoulder over to his elbow so that fingers found and took ownership of her chin.

“Look at me now!’

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.  Reluctant to face the awful image of herself in is eyes, she tilted her face up to his obediently, but her eyes rebelled.  She managed only momentary eye contact, able to hold his gaze only long enough to find the deep glowing light there that belonged only to her, and then disgust with herself forced her eyes to close again.

“You’re going to be when we get home.”

She pressed her face back into his chest and nodded her head.  She knew.  She was finally freed.  It was done.  She’d felt it coming all day.  The witch that just escaped her mouth had been bouncing off the walls like a child on a sugar high, barely kept in check for hours.  All day she’d been nibbling the sickly sweet marshmallow of fatigue and frustration, its effect, a cloying barely perceptible headache, a fully loaded temper clip and a trigger worn thinner than a hair.

He pulled her closer and his right hand slipped lower and squeezed.  Her whole body relaxed, and for the rest of the entire 60 minute set they danced.   Salsa, waltz, C&W line, C&W /blend polka, waltz, salsa, waltz, line dance, waltz, tango, waltz, waltz, waltz, waltz, salsa, salsa, salsa and then super salsa ended by longest slow waltz.

He’d taken her on to the dance floor to burn off steam.  She felt lighter and breathless, her body coated with a fine film of sweat.  Laughter during recovery from the hour’s exertion was the only energy left.  The reassuring strength of his embrace, augmented the athletic ritual of the dance, and consumed the poison of the day and totally damp the inflammatory venom that had been fuel to the flames he’d had to save her from.  Even though the night would continue into wee hours for many, for these two this dance signaled their good night.  With him behind her, she made a graceful round of the ballroom; thank you-s and embraces of all who’d made the year successful were mandatory before she could leave.  This time her mind was cleared enough that every kiss and hug was sincere.

He held the car door and helped her tuck her dress in.  The timber of the door’s closure and purpose in his stride around the car sent a prickling reminder across her bottom.  Her evening was not over yet.  There was nothing to say on the drive home.  Both allowed the cool evening air to work its silken magic, soothing tense muscles, cooling sweat damped flesh, and cleansing exhausted lungs.  She allowed calm submission envelop her, letting go of all will not imparted by him.  Their car, their destination and all that would follow were completely under his control. 

Once in the driveway, shortly after the tires crunched to a halt, her door opened and his hand reached down for hers.  She came up to stand with him gracefully, her body easily molding to his.  The welcome home embrace they shared was brief, replaced by the short sensually rich walk into the house.  The chirps and clunk of the keyless lock securing their car played accompaniment to their fist few steps inside.  Surrendering her will often had the effect of heightening her senses.  His hand on her back, pressing and slipping against the cool slinky fabric of her dress infused heat and power to her flesh.  The air carried the scent of deepening fall and coming frost.  The dark amplified the sounds of tree limbs groaning and squeaking pressed gently together by the weight of the night, rusted by an almost imperceptible cold breeze. The cold hardened gravel and angel stone aggregate crunched under shoe leather loudly enough to obscure thought, and then keys coughed up a short if intrusive brass chatter.  His arm instinctively wrapped her shoulders when she shivered.  He held her close, acknowledged her shiver with a kiss behind her ears and then pushed her forward into the living room.

“Go inside and get ready for bed.  I’ll be with you in a few minutes.”

The ritual of the long familiar wind down after of an evening out took over.  Zippers, hooks and clasps in multiples were let go.  The weight of clothes fell away the uncomfortable irritation of cold pretentious glitter lifted off mercifully. Water ran, soap suds and terry cloth cleaned still more camouflage away.  By the time he joined her in the master bath she was wrapped comfortably in bulky well worn cotton jersey imbued with his scent and was settled with just as much ease on the toilet.  It never ceased to amaze her how brushing his teeth seemed to be the only step in his ritual, and how as soon as she flushed the toilet, he took her place - and that when she finished with her teeth, they were both done and he was patiently waiting for her.

She followed his lead to bed knowing the house was locked up, the security system on, all windows closed and the A/C was switched to heat and the temperature reset to 45 degrres F.  The sensual silk and cotton chenille throw was tossed over her side of the bed.  The Vermont country store bath brush rested on the pillow on his side.  She’d left panties off tonight because she knew something would be there.  Momentary panic made her halt against his guiding arm.  It wasn’t a cane or switch, it wasn’t the brat loop, it wasn’t the school master strap … she’d almost expected one of these were owed her, even so, the implement laid out ranked among the first of her most feared.

“Please no?” she begged.

“You know the rules,” he reminded, and she did.

She cried out with every impact.  “Ow!  Please!”  In short order her bottom as on fire, red, hot and even deeply bruised, marked and punished by the harshest of blows.  Pian made her riggle and buck.

Now that her world was changed forever and his active arm gone, she’d let herself ease away from fear.  Until now, like no, when fearful implements gave her dreams of him back, the kind of power he’d really kept and owned with her 

His image and expressed faith in her stayed with her.  His passing and the physical change in her life still managed to let her keep it to lean on. 

“Why do you let so much venom into your temper?”  His hand took hers and she laid down across his remembered thighs.  She had no answer.  “I don’t know!”  The brush laid in hard until tears crested her lower eyelids. 

“Please!” she whimpered, and she felt him soften.  He spanked her only just to tears this time.

“You’re getting soft sweet thing,” his essence whispered quietly as she fell alseep.  She nodded and let him lift her properly to bed.  Penetration was delicate though the thrusts that followed took more than her submission and pleasure. 

Dreams and time feed this.  Friday’s cold lonely must go to parties no matter what reality fed this.  She lives alone, yet really never is alone, her memories and desires invade, engorge and yes even enrich her truth. 

She missed this.  She soooooo missed this.