The conclusion to the spanking meme you thought would never end :)

And here it is - the last nine questions in the ultimate spanking meme:

41. Would you rather be humiliated or respected during your spanking? While I don't mind a little embarrassment, humiliation is a big no. There should always be mutual respect within consensual spanking.

42. Would you rather spanking become part of a bigger BDSM alternative lifestyle or spanking just be spanking for spanking sake? When I first discovered kink I had more interest in BDSM, but those interests now lean much more heavily to spanking. I do enjoy a little extra on the side from time to time, though.

43. Would you rather be filmed during a spanking to share your exhibitionist naughtiness or are you too modest to show your bum to the world? While my decision isn't necessarily predicated on modesty, I'd opt not to be photographed or filmed. I have no problem sharing my kink with like-minded people, or even open minded vanilla friends, but that doesn't mean I want videos of myself indulging in spanking out there where anyone could find it. There are certain people (my parents come to mind) who are better off in blissful ignorance and I intend to keep it that way.


44. Would you rather your spanking be gentle and gradual or painful and abrupt? Both serve a purpose and I enjoy both types fairly equally. The most important thing is to match the spanking to the mood. I would be disappointed by a gentle spanking if I was craving the physical and emotional release of a harder, rougher one and I'd probably be out of sorts if I was geared up for something light and gentle and was instead abruptly spanked much harder than I was prepared for.

45. Would you rather be defiant or fearful going into a spanking? Fearful. If I go into a spanking defiant, it never seems to end well (and it's only happened once or twice that I can recall). A little bit of fear adds a wonderful edge to a spanking that I always enjoy.


46. Would you rather be spanked exclusively in your own bedroom or anyplace else other than your own bedroom? If I had to choose one or the other I'd choose anyplace else. Limiting myself to only my bedroom would rule out so many other wonderful options!

47. Would you rather be spanked exclusively on your bottom or other places could be interesting too? My bottom would definitely be my favorite target, but other places are fair game. After all, sometimes my bottom needs a break :)

48. Would you rather a spanking be a surprise or be something you have to look forward to? Oh. Gosh. This one's tough. I really like knowing ahead of time so that I can squirm for a little while anticipating the upcoming spanking. But then again, I really love a surprise. There's just something about being dropped into that headspace suddenly and without warning.

49. Would you rather spanking be a part of role playing kinkiness or a response to events that have happened in reality? I don't mind a little bit of role play, but I much prefer to be myself in a spanking.

And there you have it!

Spanking and more spanking (meme) (part 4)

The fun continues!

31. Would you rather have a safe word or be pushed beyond your preconceived limits? Both. I think a safeword is an important tool when pushing "limits" because it frees the spanker to push and prod past those blurry lines without having to worry that they're going too far.

32. Would you rather your spanker know your spanking history or is ignorance bliss? I don't think every partner needs to know the blow-by-blow descriptions of every spanking I've ever had, but some knowledge of my experience and preferences is useful.

33. Would you rather be spanked by multiple people at one time or just by one person at one time? Multiple people could be fun, but for everyday spanking, I think one is more practical.

34. Would you rather be spanked once a day or once every few months? Multiple times a day isn't an option?

35. Would you rather your spanker be deeply in tune or be totally unaffected to your experience as a spankee? As spanking is an experience shared by the spanker and spankee, I'd want him to be in tune with me and my responses.

36. Would you rather a closer physical relationship or a closer emotional relationship with your spanker? Well, I wouldn't have a closer physical relationship without a close emotional one. But I have had very close platonic relationships with spankers, and enjoy those immensely.

37. Would you rather your spanker ice your bottom down after a spanking or send you to the corner to display his/her accomplishment? Neither? I'd just like a good cuddle, or well...

38. Would you rather your spanker be the person you wish to live the rest of your life with (i.e. marriage) or the person you can call on when your tushy tickles? I hope to marry someone who will enjoy spanking me as much as I enjoy being spanked, but I'm also hoping we'll both be able to share our love of spanking with others. Variety is the spice of life, after all!

39. Would you rather spanking be a part of love making or not a part of love making? Both.

40. Would you rather your spanker have total control over you when you are being spanked or do you still want to have some control while you are being spanked? A little of both. Although I find that if I know I have some control, I have a much harder time letting go of it, which tends to make the experience more difficult for me in the long run.

And next time... the much desired conclusion to the spanking meme, after which you will know everything there is to know about me and spanking that can be answered in 40 questions or less!

Still another spanking meme (part 3)

And on to the third installment of this glimpse into my mind when it comes to all things spanking...

21. Have you received a spanking in the past week? Sadly not. Clearly the world is out of balance ;)


22. Would you rather be spanked for the physical pleasure or the emotional release? I enjoy both, but find that often when I'm really craving a spanking, it's the emotional connection and release that I'm seeking.

23. Would you rather tell your best friends you enjoy be spanked or keep it secret? Many of my friends know. Some know more than others.


24. Would you rather spanking be a lifestyle choice or just something you dabble in? As one of my previous posts on this blog indicates, I don't believe it is a choice. It is a very real part of me, one I wouldn't part with if I could.

25. Would you rather your lover be a vanilla or a spankoholic too? A spanko, through and through.

26. Would you rather be spanked by a stranger or by someone who knew you well? Some of my strongest fantasies involve being spanked by a stranger, but when it comes to real life I prefer to play with someone I know and who knows me. There's so much that goes on during a spanking, both physical and emotional, that a real understanding of your partner makes a huge difference. That said, everyone starts out as a stranger, and I'm always happy to meet and play with someone new.

27. Would you rather be spanked by despotic, mean person or by a compassionate, benevolent person? The first would be pretty hard for me. I generally need for there to be some compassion or connection between me and the spanker.

28. Would you rather be talked to while you are spanked or no talking at all? You can feel free to talk, but I can't promise I'll understand anything you say. My attention will probably be focused elsewhere.

29. Would you rather get one swat at a time with pauses to let the sting set in or a continuous tanning to build up the fire? I guess that depends on if you want me to be able to stay still, or want a wriggling, writhing, girl on your hands.

30. Would you rather be forced into a spanking or willingly submit into a spanking? I'd rather willingly submit, while maintaining a bit of fantasy about being overpowered or controlled.

Until next time...

Once more, with feeling

Authors note: I began writing this recap of a caning Jack gave me months ago. Before I had the chance to complete it, the bottom fell out of our relationship and I couldn't bring myself to revisit this happy scene. I've finally gotten around to finishing it off, and I do hope you enjoy it.

Curled up on the bed earlier this evening, Jack looked down at me. "What?" he asked, my face having given me away as it always does. I bit my lip and pondered, guessing it was still early enough in this conversation to reverse directions. I didn't feel particularly guilty over what I was about to confess but I was 99% sure it would result in a spanking. Which is what I wanted, of course. The question was what kind of spanking? I was aiming for something light, but I can never be sure what I'll end up with...

"Uhmm..." I bit the bullet and whispered the words that had stuck on my lips just a moment before. Watched somewhat nervously as his face darkened, eyes narrowed, and realized we had skipped way past any chance of a light, playful spanking. He slipped (maybe stalked would be more accurate) off the bed and out of the room without a word, reappearing a moment later with the cane. Big *gulp.* This couldn't be good.

The cane and I, we have what you might call a hate-hate relationship. There is no love between us, no tenderness hidden deeply under the nerves and fear it produces. I am not brave where canes are concerned, and whimpered as I was guided onto my stomach, stretched out across the bed and bared. My mind whirled, trying to get a handle on his mood, then eased as his hand stroked over my bottom, coming to rest lightly on the small of my back.

The crack of the cane was shocking in the quiet room. But instead of tensing against it I let go, let the sensation flow through me and then out, releasing with it a hundred little worries and stresses. It hurt, oh god it hurt, but his hand was on my back, resting so gently, grounding me, as my body turned to liquid and my mind floated on the pain. The cane fell again and again, and my world narrowed, focused until there was only me and Jack, the cane, soft murmurs, flashes of pain, softer caresses between the heat of the strokes.

I don't think I've ever just given in to the pain of a spanking like this before. I've surrendered to it, after struggling and fighting or just gritting my teeth and bearing it. But I'd never absorbed it like this, never felt this languid sensation that lulled me into peace; usually the peace comes after when the spanking is done and the cuddling has commenced.

My legs, usually busy kicking and squirming in a grand show of discomfort, literally could not move. Half way through I realized I had slid closer to the wall and managed to rouse my arm enough to press against it to keep my head from crashing into it. Jack gently turned me and resumed his work with the cane. Time moved on, stretched out, spun before us. And still there was only us, only tenderness and pain and all of the things that can only be said without words.

The rhythm slowed and changed. The cane fell less, replaced more often by his soothing hand and gentle voice. I could have gone on forever, happily. I think perhaps he could have too. After what seemed forever (and was in actuality about an hour) it was the cane that, having taken all it could, broke and ended our play.

No, I wasn't smirking. Honest. I would never gloat over a broken cane, of course not. Well, maybe I would have, but not any more. I sort of think I like them now...

Yes, another spanking meme (part 2)

Here is the highly anticipated sequel to the spanking meme I started a few weeks ago. Enjoy!

11. Would you rather be spanked for the naughty things you have done or just because you enjoy the experience? I enjoy the experience of being spanked for the naughty things I have done :)

12. Would you rather be spanked with pants up/skirt down or pants down/skirt up? I like to be eased into a bare bottom spanking, going through all of the stages can draw out the suspense and the embarrassment so nicely. Often when I'm playing with someone for the first time I like to keep at least my panties firmly in place until we've gotten to know each other better.

13. Would you rather be spanked somewhat clothed or entirely naked? Somewhat clothed. It focuses the attention on my bottom, where it belongs :)


14. Would you rather your spanking be strictly disciplinarian or sexually attractive in nature? A little of both. Even with my "just for fun" spankings, I enjoy the pretense of discipline. There's something incredibly arousing about being a naughty little girl who is being taken in hand by a firm but kind disciplinarian. Mmmm!

15. Would you rather be spanked by a male or by a female? I'm pretty straight (ok, totally, hopelessly straight) and I've only ever been spanked by men. However lately I've been entertaining delightful fantasies of being spanked by a strict Aunt. So, who knows?

16. Would you rather be cuddled or scolded after your spanking? Scolded before, cuddled after. I have a very very hard time dealing with being scolded after a spanking. When the spanking is over I want to know that the slate (real or imaginary) is wiped clean, that I took my spanking well (or at least tried very hard to), and I'm a good girl.


17. Would you rather be spanked OTK or bent over a table/chair? First one, then the other!


18. Would you rather your spanker have physical contact with you? Yes. Especially during hard spankings or ones that are emotionally difficult for me, having that contact makes a huge difference in how I process the spanking.

19. Would you prefer to be spanked in the woods with a tree branch, bent over the hood of a car, or in a school with a ruler bent over the desk of your teacher/principal? Well, I've already been spanked over
the hood of a car, and it was delightful. I'd be up for trying the woods, depending on the area and as long as I was assured there would be no bugs feasting on my exposed flesh. But the school desk is such a strong fantasy, I think I have to choose that one.

20. Would you rather be a brat to your spanker to deserve a spanking or simply ask your spanker for a spanking because you know you needed it? I would rather ask, but at the same time I have a hard time getting up the nerve to ask for one. My shyness is not caused by nerves over the actual spanking that will ensue, but rather a concern (no matter how unfounded) that I'll be rejected, or that someone will spank me because I asked, but not really want to. While I've been called bratty on more than one occasion, and probably will be again, I don't care to overtly brat anyone, and actually get quite upset when I do. So, while I don't mind being a bit of a smart-alec (and in fact can't really help it), I'm not about to break out in hi-jinks no matter how much I might desire a spanking.

Starring role

In my fantasies I play a variety of roles and delight in stepping outside of the bounds of my normal experience. In real life, my spankings are more mundane, if such a thing can be said of spanking.

I don't play a part and I never have to run my thoughts or responses through a filter of what would be appropriate for someone else to feel or say or do. All that changed a few weeks ago.

I was catching up with an old spanko friend, chatting about where our lives had taken us, what we were up to, how we had been. Intermingled was plenty of taunting and teasing of the friendliest sort. Until all of a sudden it changed and he wasn't my good buddy joking around with me, he was a strict looking teacher and I was a naughty schoolgirl caught sneaking off the grounds.

I paused a moment, surprised by this new twist and not at all sure where it would lead. But I'll try almost anything once, and if that anything involves me getting spanked more's the better.

Sneaking off school property was a huge infraction and a girl sent to the principal for such a thing could surely be suspended. In fact, Mr. Michael's voice assured me as it broke through my frantic thoughts, that would most certainly be the penalty I could expect. Suddenly I was very much a school girl - terrified to be sent home in disgrace. How would I tell my parents? How could I face their displeasure or worse, their dissapointment.

I was sorry, I pleaded, I would never do it again, the Principal didn't have to be told... And in my heart I still believed, as only an innocent young girl can, that the very worst thing that could happen in the world would be my parents learning of my disobedience. So I was genuinely relieved when Mr. Michaels suggested that we deal with the situation privately and equally as crushed to learn exactly how he proposed to do so - with a hard wooden paddle drilled through with holes.

Spanko-emma knew how much that paddle would hurt, knew exactly what to expect, and dreaded it. But I was naughty-schoolgirl-emma and had never been so much as spanked, let alone paddled (Oh, and how embarrassing it was to have to admit that to Mr. Michael's when he asked). I knew only that the paddle looked incredibly large and scary, that Mr. Michaels looked very stern, and that I wished ferverently to be able to rewind the clock and not sneak out or at least not to have been caught in the act.

Butterflies battered my stomach. My knees felt weak and I was almost relieved to be ordered across his desk so that I wouldn't embarrass myself by collapsing in front of him. The height of the desk forced me up onto my tip toes and my arms stretched tight so that my fingers could find purchase on the opposite edge. The wood was smooth and cool and solid beneath me and comforting in a way I couldn't have explained but was as old as the time honored ritual to which I was now being inducted.

I blushed a charming shade of red, soon to be surpassed on my backside, and protested as my skirt was raised and panties lowered. Shame, which had been hiding distantly behind fear and nerves, now stepped boldly forward in my conciousness. Only the crisp crack of the paddle, following a moment after a stern directive to count the strokes aloud, could send the shame skittering out of my mind as quickly as it had come as the first blush of red spread across my cheeks and my first taste of pain burned itself into my flesh.

Any girl would have jumped up, I told myself, embarrassed by how quickly I had lost position; shocked and startled by the fire the paddle had ignited with barely any effort. It's harder, so much harder to bend over that desk a second time, fully understanding now what will happen when you do. The paddle fell hard igniting another flame and then another. Pausing between each to let me suffer fully, pulling cries from my throat along with each count.

At some point I reached back, promising to be good, promising that I had learned my lesson, pleading for leniency that wouldn't be shown. Again I forced myself back into position. Again the paddle landed and again until all twelve strokes had been delivered, until my bottom was sore and red, and my throat caught with little girl sobs.

As quickly as we had assumed the roles we shed them and I was caught in comforting arms, pleasantly warm and sore and absolutely content. Looking back I know that the spanking was firm but not harsh and that spanko-emma could have gotten through it with a minimum of fuss. How lucky was I then, to be able to experience it as a girl not accustomed to such things, as a girl off-balance and vulnerable in a way I often find it difficult to be?

Drifting off to sleep that night, still warm from memories, I was so very glad to be reminded that there are always new experiences waiting to be discovered. I can't wait to see what they are and where they'll lead.

first time's a charm...

My internet connection has been spotty lately, so I haven't been able to spend much time in the blogosphere. So, for your patience, here's the story of my very first spanking...

We met in what is so often the usual way nowadays, in internet chatrooms dedicated to the love of all things spanking, and became fast friends. We were different in so many ways; but the ways in which we were alike bonded us together and our differences infused the friendship with a flavor all its own.

Over time that friendship blossomed, spilling out of the chatrooms and into hour (or more) long conversations on the phone. Despite this bond, it was years before fate stepped in and brought us together in person. You see, Brad's job took him all over the country wooing clients and training new sales managers, and after many years it finally brought him to me.

We were, first and foremost, friends. And so we took things slow. Dinner at a local establishment stretched on through drinks as we enjoyed the pleasure of each other's company face to face for the first time. In fact, it stretched on for so long that we had to rush to catch the 9:30 movie next door. We lingered in the theater until the last of the credits has scrolled off the screen and the house lights came up breaking the intimacy of the dimly lit room.

The parking lot was deserted when we finally exited the building and we paused at his car, neither of us quite ready to say goodbye but knowing that he had a long drive back to the city yet that night. We embraced, his arms wrapping warmly around me, and I was pleased and disappointed all at once. Our first meeting had gone swimmingly and I wished we had more time together before real life intervened. Those thoughts and more lingered for a moment before being chased away by the feeling of his hand sliding down my back to rest gently on my bottom.

I tilted my head up, smiling, as rubbing turned to gentle patting. When the patting became a little more forceful and his grip on me became more firm I swallowed against the fluttering of butterflies in my belly and throat. It's a hard step to take - from fantasy to reality - and I was nervous. Looking back I was probably nervous about all the wrong things. I didn't worry that we were in a public area and anyone could have stumbled upon us at any time. I didn't worry that it would hurt (it only did a little bit) or that it would leave marks (I discovered that night and the following days how much I love to be bruised; how I enjoy watching the marks blossom across my skin and change during the coming days). No, I couldn't worry about those things because all of my focus was spent worrying that I would discover I was wrong. That maybe I only thought I liked this spanking thing. That maybe everything I had considered myself to be for as long as I could remember wasn't true.

I shouldn't have worried. Very soon, in fact, I couldn't. Stretched across the hood of his red miata I couldn't think of anything but the feel of the silky steel beneath me and his hand falling again and again in a delicious rhythm. It was that night that I discovered the thrill of hearing a belt pulled through it's loops; the shock of pain then throbbing warmth that follows as it slices down against yeilding skin; the language of a body begging for more as it arches up into the strokes in silent entreaty.

No, I shouldn't have worried at all. A lot has changed since that night many years ago. Brad & I drifted apart. Jack & I found each other. I've come a long way from that girl stepping off the edge for the first time but every now and then I like to go back there and remember that night and the feeling of finally knowing.

the goldilocks theory

Although I've been into this spanking thing for a long time Jack is only the second man to spank me. The first, well that's a story for another time... This story is about finding balance.

When we first met we were understandably cautious with each other. I hadn't yet had the chance to really test my limits, to see where they lay. Jack needed time to learn to read me before he felt comfortable judging on his own. And so, at first, we took things slow.

This one was too soft...

In the beginning I was like the little bear in Goldilocks' house, except I was sampling spankings and not porridge (much more interesting that way) and after I'd gotten over the initial shock of "oh my god spanking REALLY hurts" I found that they didn't quite get me where I needed to go. Don't get me wrong, they hurt in all the right ways and while I was draped over his lap (or desk or bed) and his hand (or belt or paddle) was coloring my bottom to a very hot shade of red I wished for nothing more desperately than for the spanking to end and the cuddling to begin.

It was after that, as the heat faded into a gentle warmth and the fog of pain lifted from my mind, that I slowly realized not all my buttons had been pushed. Last week Bonnie had as her Sunday Brunch question the topic of whether a spankee can ask for a longer or more severe spanking. I did ask for more, quite frequently in fact, and Jack always smiled and gave me exactly that.

This one was too hard...

Time went by and I had many firsts with Jack. It seemed each time we were together I learned some new fact about myself and although I often thought these revelations were mine alone, Jack was diligently cataloging them away for future use. As our comfort with each other grew the balance shifted. Jack, now knowing my limits, pushed harder and farther than before and I stopped having to ask for more. The spankings progressed but that wasn't all. We added new experiences to our arsenal and Jack delighted in finding new ways to torment and embarrass me. I sometimes cried, but the release I was seeking remained elusively out of my grasp. I continued to learn: that for me, the physical experience was secondary to the mental and that while he would never give me more than I could take, when a spanking became "too" hard physically without my being in the right mental state I spent so much energy focusing on getting through it that I couldn't let go and just experience it.

This one was just right...

I've always loved fairy tales. When I was a little girl my favorites were those of the Brothers Grimm. Now that I'm an adult my favorites are a little different... You see, what I was searching for was the spanking you read about in so many of the best stories. The release of just giving in and trusting yourself in someone else's hands. It took me a long time to find that because, as it turns out, I had been looking in all the wrong places. I thought the key was being pushed past my limits but as I eventually learned, for me, the key is not the force of the spanking but the mental build-up combined with a moderate amount of pain. Too little and I can't push myself over that edge, too hard and I struggle against it.

I'd been struggling a lot with demons in my vanilla life the past few months. It seemed that just about everything that could go wrong did go wrong - I felt like I was sinking and a large part of me wanted to curl up in a ball and hide from the world. And then there was Jack. He showed up on my doorstep, his toy bag slung casually over his shoulder, and I was in his arms in under a second flat. If it had been up to me I might never have let him go, but eventually he eased me from his arms and arranged me face down on the bed. I'd spent so much of the last months fighting everything that I had no fight left. I didn't even complain as he bared me and took out the dressage whip - probably my least favorite of all the toys in that bag.

He didn't talk and I couldn't think as it lashed down again and again. Not nearly as hard as it could but enough to make me squirm. Enough to sting and turn my flesh red and even welted. He didn't chastise me for moving as I wriggled forward (but never out of its reach - it followed me with painful precision) until there was no where else to go but jump off the bed which was clearly unthinkable. And stuck there, with no where else to go and the whip falling over and over - never slowing, never flagging in its attention to my vulnerable skin - I realized that it would never stop until he wanted it to.

The tears came then along with the realization that I hadn't truly given in yet because in the back of my mind I thought he'd stop, now that I was crying he would surely stop. He didn't. My hands, which had been gripping the edge of the bed for dear life loosened their hold, then hung limply over the side. My head fell, dripping tears onto the floor. And still he didn't stop. After a while the strokes became harder, my sobs louder. And then, when I had cried out every last frustration and fear the whip dropped to the floor and his hands found mine, pulling me into his arms.

I smiled and thought "that was just right."

morning pleasures

Today was my favorite sort of morning...

There were no alarms this morning, instead I woke early to the sun streaming through the bedroom window, his body close behind mine. I curled back against him, his arms wrapping around me hugging me to his chest. It was still too early to speak and we drifted in and out of sleep, always coming back to each other - our bodies linked: his possessive, mine soft and yielding.

I stretched, a soft morning moan escaping my lips as I rolled onto my stomach inviting his hand to find my bottom and linger there... Gentle rubbing turned to patting and pinching, checking for soreness left over from last night's spanking (and paddling and strapping and... uhmm.. is cropping a word?). I feigned surprise and just a bit of indignation as patting turned to swatting; but really this is my favorite sort of spanking: fresh from sleep, still warm from his arms, with a whole day of possibilities stretching out before us.

Yes, this is my favorite sort of morning...