I have been a wife and mother for over twenty years. Now I am becoming my husband's lover, too. We owe it all to my fellow bloggers who gave me the courage to come out to my husband as a spanko. I do feel like this is a New Beginning for us. You must be 18 to view this site.
I have a really great weekend planned. Nick and I are off on a special trip. Not only do Nick and I get to steal some time away together, we get to meet up with my twin and Adam.!! (And for all you new folks, Eva is a fantastic blogger that I met here in the summer of 2006. As we became friends and found that we had so much in common we became – the twins) We haven’t gotten to see Eva and Adam since New Years and three months is long enough.
But even more special than getting together with only Eva and Adam, on this trip we are getting to meet two more friends. We are going to be meeting Mthc and David, two long time friends and commenters. They have also written several Fantasy Friday stories. Now we’ve all been talking multiple times a day for over a year but we have never gotten to actual meet them before. David has had some serious medical issues and he is still having some problems but he is improving and we are all anxious to meet – Mthc is one of us now, the triplets.
Mollie just shakes her head at all my friends out here. The other day she said “Mom you know you have done every single thing you had warned me not to do on the computer. Talking to strangers, giving out you personal information, inviting these internet people to the house and traveling across the country to meet some. Now really is this setting a good example for me?”
She grinned when she said it because Eva is one of her favorite people and Mollie has been to her house a couple of times too. But she’s not wrong. Those are all the things we always warn our kids about. So as she stands there – hands on her hips – tapping her foot at me I couldn’t help laughing at her.
“You’re right” I told her, “And your rules are still the same, but” I added “I didn't start doing this until I was 49 years old. After you turn 49 I’ll let you use your own judgment.” I think that seems fair.
Internet - What kind of blogger would I be if I didn't list the internet? What a fascinating invention. The information it put at our fingertips is unbelievable! My best friends live on the internet and I would never have found them without it!
Ice – I don’t drink coffee but I still love my soft drinks. Summer or winter I love an ice cold drink.
Irises – I think irises are beautiful. A friend sent irises from ProFlowers.com when my mom died. I got them at home and their beauty brought peacefulness to the house.
Ipod – I love being able to have my music. Yeah I know that makes me old when I don’t listen to anything new but I like music from 1962 to 1975. I like some of my kid’s music so I can download a few of them too.
Islands – Islands are beautiful. Think Hawaii or the Bahamas; is there anywhere else as beautiful?
Indoors – I know how wonderful the outside world is but really I am an indoor person for the most part.
Ink pens – for all the typing I do I really love writing by hand. I am very picky about my ink pens. I go with pilot or uniball. These are the pens I use to do my art work.
Izod – I don’t really wear this brand all that much but I was just thinking about a friend who was sending her son to camp for the first time. She was fussing about being required to put his name in all his clothing. I remember her saying “I think it would be easier to just change his name to Levi Izod.”
On to the diet - I lost this week, about half a pound but I’ll take any loss I can get. I’m happy to tell you that Nick took Ronnie’s advice from last week and besides what I got Saturday night, he gave me a nice reminder with the hair brush before we headed to his mother’s for lunch.
Now the menu at Nick’s mom’s was pretty typical - fried chicken, country style steak, sweet potatoes casserole, carrots, mashed potatoes, gravy, corn, peas, green beans, crowder peas, apples, yeast rolls, biscuits, pumpkin pie and peach cake. Now remember she's 84 and there were 18 of us for lunch, like I said, the usual.
So do your see my problem with Sundays? Nick did help. Not that I could still feel the spanking by the time we had lunch but when he actually tells me not to do something – I mean point blank, I usually don’t do it. I still don’t snack in my chair since he told me not to almost a year ago. So when he told me not to do any snacking after lunch I didn’t. Don’t know if that will really make a difference in the long run but I usually am up a little on Mondays and I wasn’t today. Now just maybe if Nick keeps spanking and gets just a little bossier I may whip this weight thing yet.
We had a hot Fantasy Friday this week. If you haven’t had the chance to read it go here and check it out.
I hope everyone is having a good weekend. I did have to work Friday so this has been a nice long weekend for me. Mostly playing on the computer and helping Mollie get ready for a big night. She had a sweet 16 party to go to Saturday night – formal! I kinda resented having to buy her a formal dress when it wasn’t even a prom or anything but she did look gorgeous! I sure never looked that good at 16, or any other time of my life come to think of it. But she went and had a good time so I was happy for her.
Of course that meant she left Nick and I home alone and I was happy for us too! We haven’t had tons of time alone lately and I have to tell you we did make good use of it. A little wine, a little spanking (accent on a little here we are going to have to work on that part!) But I can tell you I have no complete about the sex!! That part was GREAT! The only problem is that we had so many toy out it was hard finding all of them when we were done. And although we might have had a hard time spotting it I was sure ol’ eagle eye Mollie would have stumbled across it first thing. We did find it all eventually.
Busy week coming up but we have a weekend away planned for next weekend. And this is a trip I have been looking forward to for a long time. More about that later.
I have to tell you I got a real kick out of this story when I received it. You need a bit of back ground here. Florida Dom sent me his first story. Kaylynn read it and it really got into her head! She loved it. Now being extremely happily married and assuming that Florida Dom probably was too she was talented enough to let her fantasy 'what ifs' lead her into a wonderful story. What if Florida Dom was like his character? What if some sexy and unfulfilled young woman read his story? What if she couldn't get having access to his email address out of her mind? And what if she kept thinking ...
She let her finger tips linger on the keys after reading the Fantasy Friday. They were slightly shaking as she raised them to her lips. “Oh my gosh, he’s in Florida.” She heard her desperate voice eek out in an inaudible whisper. She was only three states apart from, just four hours away from a man whose story had her mind reeling. She’d never been that turned on by a story. It was always the visuals, not the words that shook her to her core. “Thrown off” would be the way she preferred to describe it to herself right now. And she felt uneasy admitting that much. Trying to ease herself back into her comfort zone she wandered into the kitchen and fixed herself a cup of tea. Unlike her usual routine, she stared at the back of the stove waiting for the water to boil.
After sucking the honey from her sticky fingers and discarding the teabag, she began to pace about the wooden floors. His story had *really* turned her on. She was suddenly antsy and needed to be outside. She bent down to the floor to raise the massive floor to ceiling windows of this 250 year old house that acted as a door to her balcony. The house had been her great great grandmother’s and sat proudly on Esplanade Avenue just two miles from the French Quarter. The live oaks were massive and the homes all historic with twenty foot ceilings. Lacey iron gates surrounded the homes like a giant sprawling hug.
Rarely had she ever been sexually entwined before 10pm but now she could feel the morning air between her legs as the evaporation began. It embarrassed her when she gave a quick wave to her next door neighbors. It was 9am and already 70 degrees, a hot March morning in New Orleans. The school kids were finally all tucked inside their buildings. The sidewalks and streets were clearing out. Trying to regain normalcy she brought her cup of tea and a raspberry protein bar outside with her. The powder blue ceiling glowed gently on the warming porch. She sat down under a huge hanging fern and let her left leg fall outside the wall swinging into space. Leaning back then tipping her head up, she relaxed against the huge column. Seriousness overtook her mind while her hair moved mindlessly in the warm breeze. Resisting her ultimate concept in a male had kept her safely tucked away in the “eccentric artist” category. It was always all or nothing with Margo. She was afraid to search for exactly what she wanted. Chaos could ensue if her situation wasn’t “just right”.
Previously she thought of the cyber world as a nebulous place, not with real people doing real things. Mostly what she did was read fiction about spanking late at night alone in her bed. The stories were there but she didn’t think of who wrote them. She never let herself consider that someone would be as close as Florida. It was perfect. She could keep her sexual preferences private by going to Florida. Always there was this pressure hanging over her head. Her last name was so politically attached to the past and present history of Louisiana but especially this city. Her blood was as blue as horseshoe crabs. And their eccentricities had caused enough infamy with the Boudreaux Family. She didn’t want to be on the “list”.
But her fantasies were lately saturating her mind and she was now in a position, thanks to Florida Dom’s email to at least try. Worst case scenario he was married or involved. She closed her eyes and bathed herself in thoughts of getting lost in his power. She caught herself smiling with her eyes closed and realized how funny she must look. But she couldn’t stop smiling throughout the day.
Margo was determined not to let decades escape her before she sought her passionate side of sex. She had always been obsessed with the Alpha Male. The strong silent type was her kind of man. He was also someone who led by example and tolerated only the best from everyone surrounding him. The consequences for breaching his expectations were obvious for the woman in his life. And the thought of that becoming her reality was what unconscientiously motivated her throughout the day, even though he was yet in her life. Her imagined external discipline kept her being the best she could be.
She had watched generations of Alpha’s parade through her family. They were intoxicating. But frankly their power scared her. It scared her and turned her on simultaneously. She had vowed not to get ensnared with them during her twenties. But with each passing year, she found herself secretly drawn to them. Not only was she captured by their confidence and demeanor, but she spent hours during the day thinking about what sex with that kind of man would be like. And thinking back to his character’s only allowed response “I will obey, Sir” made her wet all over again. She wouldn’t even let herself think of the spanking. And just as hot was that shaving scene…. And with that thought, she cracked open her laptop and began typing every letter with precision and courage.
Dear FloridaDom Sir, I would like to thank you for sharing your story with PK’s readers. I thank you too for allowing us the opportunity to ask questions or make suggestions regarding your writing. Please forgive me for being forward, but if you presently have no “Lisa” in your life, I would enjoy meeting you in Florida for coffee or lunch.
She impulsively hit send. She felt wild and outside of herself. Seconds later she realized with paralyzing fear that her email address contained her first and last name in order to perpetuate her artwork. She was certifiable, undeniably so. She shouldn’t have revealed so much of herself. She stalked around her bedroom like she needed a tranquilizer. What had she done? Anybody with half a brain and the likes of Ted Bundy could have her location within hours. She went outside again and sat down knees up elbows on top and head in hands. Brilliant, fucking brilliant! She could only hope she didn’t need to rent a Rottweiler by weeks end. And yet, speaking with pure logic, she was freaking out over an email of inquiry. It didn’t mean he would stop his life for her and come rushing into town to rescue her from herself. Her logic and paranoia wrestled throughout the day. She felt like the woman in Peter O’Neill’s painting, The Breakup.
Distracting herself in a positive way she focused on the fact that Mardi Gras had just ended and she actually had a few tourists buy some of her numbered prints. Since Katrina it was harder than hard. But her work was slowly making its way up the coast. A fancy Charleston gallery had expressed an interest in putting a few of her pieces in the same gallery with Peter O’Neill whose work of women she loved. She’d believe it after it happened, but it was sounding good.
She made herself paint all day before she’d look at her email. She could turn herself into butter otherwise. Saturday, Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, finally Wednesday brought a well deserved response. Arghhhh She hated this guy already for torturing her with the wait. Did he know how crazy she felt inside having no response from him? Did he know how vulnerable she felt? Who would do that to a woman? Knowing he had responded, she now felt safe allowing herself to feel all her pent up frustration. And so she began to read:
I will look forward to meeting you for dinner at Antoine’s March 20th at 8 pm.
She couldn’t believe he was coming to her city! She felt one step up on “Lisa” she still had her armpit hair and managed to score at dinner on their first get together. Thus far reality was gaining over fiction. Then of course the reign of worry enveloped her sense of joy. Just ten days and she would possibly be meeting a man who would…. Would what? She gulped hard. This had to be the best and worst moment of her life. She couldn’t wrap her head around all of this. It felt surreal. Which brought her right back to where she needed to be – painting.
Saturday morning on March 20th was a clothing crime scene that extended passed her bedroom and into her living room. Her cat, Furball looked at her with disdain as she flung pieces of clothing all over Furball’s couch. She remembered in the story about no underwear. How would that feasible? Did they make skirts of armor? If she wore no underwear she’d be sure to soak herself just by virtue of being across the table from this man who could, who might…. She refused to actually think about the spanking. She was only allowing herself to focus on the domineering power thing. Anything after that was lagniappe as far as she was concerned. She waited until 3pm to schedule a taxi for 7:45. She finally settled on a suit with a very long jacket. It was cream colored linen. An off-white silk blouse that hung a bit low was perfect. It was totally hot in a classy way. Then as she was almost at the door she decided ‘screw it’ I at least need a thong. It tangled six different ways before she could figure out what thin line lined up with what curve. Her hands were shaking and she didn’t like it.
Two thousand “what ifs” ran through her head with sticks and metal garbage cans attacking her mental foreplay. What if they weren’t compatible physically? OK too shallow, think of something else. What if he was creepy and scared her? She was not obligated for more than dinner. What if she ran into family or friends? She would introduce him as an investor considering small gallery in the Quarter. Little white lies are what held the mortar together in this town after all. No. Too many details. Besides how would he take to her lying about who he was? What if I’m totally turned on by him and I want to release years of trapped sexual pressure? Oh, now she was getting somewhere. Those other worries were masking the true issue. What if she liked and wanted all of it? What then?
The ride over in the cab was too quiet despite her mind screaming the last realization, the true question. She had so much nervous energy. She hadn’t discussed Dominic with her sisters or friends. He was too special to illicit outside opinions. It was with that last thought that she paid her cabby and headed inside. She rubbed her palms against her hips hoping her hands wouldn’t be sweaty for the hand shake at the introduction. She nervously looked around the restaurant. Andre’s weathered and handsome face greeted her at the end of the long entrance, he being the consummate maitre d' and it seemed unofficial family historian at times. His smile and double cheek kiss drew her out from her worries and she tried to stifle a giggle as she explained who she’d be meeting for dinner. He apologized but interrupted her, “Margo I am already aware that you are meeting Mr. Dominic for dinner over in the corner. That is the very spot your grandfather Landasch proposed to your grandmother. I hope it brings you good luck!”
“You realize you told me that about the table Jeanne and I sat at on Valentines Day?”
“I am getting older and must be thinking of your parents.”
“I thought they did their proposing and wedding the weekend before I was born in Vegas.”
“Oh ma Cherie you will never surprise me with your irreverence! Vegas! For shame. Your parent’s wedding was the classiest affair this city has seen in one hundred years. And for you to joke otherwise is a punishable offence! Wait until I see your Uncle John. He will have to refresh your memory of your pristine family.” She tried to look penitent. But it was hard.
“OK the Vegas thing was sleazy and uncalled for. I stand corrected. Antoine’s is the most historically romantic restaurant in the Quarter which is why” she rolled her eyes with dramatic affect and said the following words as if she were dragging her feet on the ground, “we have all gotten engaged here at Antoine’s and married at St. Peter’s Cathedral.” It was said with rehearsed force and Andre and Margo laughed a bit too loudly for the setting. But it helped her relax and she was exceedingly grateful for that.
“Your dinner guest is in the back. Come now I’ll bring you to him.” He offered her his arm. Her hands would never fit around his biceps. Andre would never grow really old she decided, just more handsome. As they rounded the corner her eyes caught sight of a man who could best be described as an Antonio Banderas in is his early 30’s. She actually gripped hard Andre’s arm a little tighter reacting to his handsome nature. Andre smiled knowing her youthful excitement. He noted Dominic’s demeanor was regal yet tolerant, a perfect match for unique Margo Her mouth went dry. Then she did the strangest thing and it was reflexive. She brought her chin to her chest and slightly closed her eyes, like some respectful bowing moment. His eyes were so piercing she felt as if she wore no clothes. He wasn’t looking at her in a sexual way; it was that she felt him looking at all of her. She honestly had to fight back the urge to continue to the kitchen and walk out the back door. She kept their shared gaze and vaguely remembered trading Andre’s arm with Dominic’s and being seated. She stared a bit too long at her linen napkin afraid to meet his eyes again. She felt like so much was happening in this moment. With the ultimate tenderness he lifted her hand from her lap and kissed it and set it on the table. He covered her hand with his while he gave the waiter their wine order, a Chateauneuf de Pape. The candle light flickered across their faces creating an undeniable romantic atmosphere. Margo’s blond hair framed what could have been deemed the happiest face there that night. He immediately put her at ease by getting her to talk about herself and her town. She was a true ambassador knowing New Orleans in a consummate and intimate way. The same exact way that old friends understand each others strengths and weaknesses. The dinner itself was always phenomenal. She was a little thrown off when he ordered for her her favorite oyster’s mosca as the appetizer, crawfish etouffee for the entrée, and then crème Brule for dessert. She assumed Andre had sold her out and she was grateful. She had never expected to give up that kind of control and have it work in her favor. She enjoyed conspiracies in her favor.
Dominic had offered very little about himself. Margo felt cautious about asking. Dominic was the kind of man who would reveal what he wanted to, when he wanted to. She respected that. But what he did say worked for Margo. He was an entrepreneur like so many in her family and city. He had a dedicated love for history and rarely missed Jazz Fest. His family was of Spanish descent but had been in Florida for four generations now. Prior to that his family had come from New Orleans! Apparently some gambling debts had landed Dominic's great great grandfather a new city on the Gulf. He had a huge family and spent too many chaotic moments with them. He like her had been busy in his career and hadn’t taken the time until recently to seriously pursue a relationship. Each fact had been revealed with a sentence of two. She couldn’t understand how he managed to say so much with so few words.
After a quiet moment that lasted a bit too long for Margo’s fast paced brain, she heard him “I have a good friend who is allowing me to spend the weekend in his house in the Quarter. If you would like to come back with me, I would love to keep the night going. What do you say Margo?” The walk to the house was quiet for a Saturday and they were both relaxed and thinking of the night ahead. He had found out everything he could about Margo before dedicating a weekend away from work. He managed to text the housekeeper as they walked to have the candles on the balcony lit when they arrived. Tonight felt very special to him. All of it seemed exactly right. Margo’s mind was feverishly working to stay calm. While this sort of thing may have happened to Dominic each weekend, she had never done anything so indulgent. Her expectations could be dashed or she could be elated beyond measure. Not knowing made her a little crazy. He smiled looking over at her. In many ways, she was a virgin.
She tried not to cry when she saw all the candles on the private balcony that faced a private garden with fountain. This was one of the special homes built for the wealthy Spanish during their brief take over from the French. It was magnificent. They sat down in a love seat. He offered her some port. She took a sip then he took the glass from her and set it down on the slate table top. He held her hands and looked into her eyes.
“Tell me Margo, why you want this?”
She wanted to take her hands back and cover her face. Instead she looked down at the lit fountain and sighed. But it did nothing to relieve the pressure in her chest that had been there forever it seemed. Her voice shook and now she, like he, had too few words to describe what had been in her head for a lifetime.
“I sometimes think I…….. need to lose control………. all of it.” She thought she might cry again. Answering that question was costly. And with that he began to kiss her with a gentle building kiss that culminated when he took her hands from his and wrapped them behind her back, holding her wrists with his left hand his right explored her neck. She immediately responded when her chest came forward to meet his. Keeping her hands behind her he removed her jacket. He made sure her hands remained behind. The sleeveless silk blouse exposed her intense state of arousal. Dominic took a moment to enjoy his voluntary captive. Dominic knew she would gladly hand over all keys after tonight.
“I want you to take off your thong.” His voice was low and formidable. The request threw her off. It seemed so sudden, but then she wasn’t in control anymore. Then she felt him release her hands. He sat back to watch her. She felt a bit awkward staring at him for just a moment, then she stood and pulled her skirt slowly to her hips. She kept her eyes on his like some small prey judging when the attacker would strike. His eyes responded with travel. She reluctantly pulled down her thong, she had never felt so exposed removing such small threads of propriety. Her skirt bunched up and stayed high on her hips as she removed her a part of her vulnerability. She tried to readjust her skirt downward. But he held out his hand demanding she focus on the single minded task; then he took it from her. He stood up turned her around and with her skirt still high she was completely exposed in so many ways. He pulled down her skirt gently. He heard a sigh which he knew would disappear over time. Dominic then proceeded to return her hands behind her back and tie her wrists together firmly with her thong. Turning her full circle and facing him, he kissed her much harder this time and began to remove her blouse. He stopped kissing her when the last button was undone and watched her…… again. Her lips were a bit swollen now and her eyes wide with excitement. He brought the port glass to her lips and she took another sip.
He reached behind her and firmly holding her hips he lifted her to stand. He had her take a step away from the seat than walked behind her.
“Oh Margo, tell me what you’re thinking now?” His voice was musical, as if he knew her answer but he had to hear her say it. She was scared to speak. Scared she wouldn’t recognize her own voice.
“I’m a little afraid, but it’s OK.”
“Are you trying to reassure yourself that you’ve done the right thing tonight, but coming here, with me?” She stood feeling so shaky, especially with him behind her. They both knew she had no answer. And so he continued in that voice that would command her anything.
“Because I really know so much more about you than you do about me.” He smiled enjoying bit of his taunting.
“I think that’s why I came, Sir” Margo could not have been more surprised at her response. It came from deep within her and was too revealing. It was like a breeze had blown out all the candles and she didn’t know what would come next. But she knew she wouldn’t run. No matter what happened she couldn’t leave him. And with that hoist of her pristine sails, Dominic sat back down then turned her a quarter turn and beckoned her down over his knees. She chose to turn her head toward the back of the cushioned love seat.
“A beautiful woman such as yourself, waiting so long to please yourself in this way. You know you deserve to be spanked hard for that alone.” She nodded and a tear pooled quickly at the corner of her eye because the pain of waiting was to end. He raised his arm high enjoying the very beginning of a long night ahead. His foreplay began. Her lesson ensued.
The linen skirt did little to make its presence known as the first Crack! resonated on her behind with such shock that she bucked on his lap as if to propel herself from it. He smiled and brought down another three. Crack! Crack! Crack! His large hand dominating her with ancient pleasure, felt perfect to them both. He rubbed her and noted the flawless shape to be revealed after delivering the same four smacks. Margo inhaled with surprise at each blistering contact. Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! After that she started to breathe fast. She knew her skirt was coming off next. And as if Dominic had receptive telepathic powers, she felt her zipper coming down exposing her warm and stinging skin to the refreshing nighttime air. And she felt grateful for almost a second before it registered, that the sensation was fleeting. He stood her up while he sat and helped her step out of her skirt. She looked beautiful in her bra and high heels. But then the bra seemed out of place and removed. Her body shook with pleasure as it was returned to its spankble position. Her breasts welcoming the sensation of his hard warm thighs.
And so with her naked body over his clothed one she awaited the ambivalent joy of her most private thoughts. Her arms wanted so badly to wrap themselves around one of his thighs while taking his lovely punishment. But her wants were met on another level this dark night. And as he delivered the height of his discipline to her virgin behind he began to speak to her while he reigned down her pleasure. His phrases to her were meant to keep her attached to the moment. He reminded her who was in charge of her; how she had no where to run; how she needed him to be the one to control her. And with that phrase and the undeniable building pain he had exacted to her, she began to release all that was inside her. As her moans subsided he rubbed her and gently gripped her bottom. He stroked her hair from the side of her face then brought her up to sit on his lap. He released her wrists from her thong. She then straddled him. Her knees bent on each side of him where her high heels rubbed against her raw skin. Her kisses were as fire which filled the rest of her. Her figurative handcuffs had been removed that night. Her physical cuffs welcomed. And as this all unraveled, she began to see visuals which would undoubtedly hang in Dominic’s private collection one day.
I just loved this story and how it came about. Kaylynn I can't thank you enough for all the wonderful help you have given me with Fantasy Friday. If any of you want to read more of Kaylynn's stories go to the bottom of this post and you will find several.
If you do get the chance to comment, Fantasy Friday is where I always hope you will take the time. When our writer doesn't have a blog of his or her own your comments are the only way they can get any feed back on their writing. So let Kaylynn know what you think.
As usual I am in need of more stories. I hope some of you out there that have never tried writing before will give it a chance - and to my friends with their own blogs, I would love to have a contribution from you if you are ever willing. Please send any stories to firstname.lastname@example.org
NOTE : I just wanted to thank everyone who came by and read this post yesterday and a very special thank you for those who left a comment. Your comments showed me that most of us are in the same place. We that write blogs really enjoy writing them and the comments that we get really help us to continue to share. We are also alike that we don’t always have the time to comment everywhere we what to. I feel better just knowing we are all in the same boat. So the things I want to keep in mind that the blogs are supposed to be fun! We can enjoy each other as we share ideas and support each other. No one should feel any pressure to comment anymore that we should feel pressured to post. But it’s out there now – comments are important to us all – the connection and encouragement are what blogging is all about.
Hmmmm… I am the only one who feels things are kinda quiet out here, maybe not as many people posting, fewer comments. At first I thought maybe people were mad at me (paranoia, don’t we all have a little of that?) But I have noticed that comments are down all over. I think many people just have more important things on their minds than spanko sex blogs. The news is not exactly cheerful these days. People have many serious real life concerns. I understand why there are fewer comments out here. But I do miss everyone. Most people say that they blog for themselves and for many that’s true, but I blog for another reason. I need the contact with people. I am too comfortable living inside my head. I think all of you who have been reading long know that's true! I can close myself up in my head and day dream my life away – which was what I was doing before I found blogs. I did it too much and I ended up so comfortable in there I didn’t let real people into my life. I even block Nick for many years.
But when I came here and found that I could really write and post my thoughts. And I found others that understood me and they were willing to talk to me. I started coming out a little. The more wonderful people I met here the more I was willing to tear down the walls and let more people in. Not only in blogland but in real life too. I know that writing the blog has helped me more that anyone can imagine.
But I guess that everyone that writes wants to know that what they write is being read. I am blessed to correspond with many wonderful people by email, some a dozens of times a day or more. Eva and Mthc keep me sane this way! And there are so many other that I keep up with through emails some daily, some weekly and some maybe monthly. Each of these friends mean a lot to me and seeing that ‘I have mail’ is a very cheerful part of my day. Meeting new people, often through their contributions to FF is a true joy to me. Each time I get a comment it just makes me want to write more. The readers that leave me comments are very special to me. I learned early on that if someone took the time to comment to me I was going to answer them and there are very, very few times that someone has commented to me that I have not answered that comment. And I always go back if I’ve left a comment to see it that person had anything to say to me. That’s why I blog - to have a back and forth conversation with others.
Many, but not all, of my good friends have gone private and each one for a very valid reason. For the first time since this started I have toyed with the idea. I have email relationship with most of the people that comment. I wouldn’t lose contact with them and rarely does a new person or a lurker leave comments any more so maybe no one else is reading. Private blogs allow you to post pictures of your family and share things you normally wouldn’t out here. The one thing that stops me is remembering how I began. What if I had come looking for someone that understood my kink and Eva and Grace and CeeCi and Theresa and Bonnie and many of the other wonderful bloggers that I did find had been private at that time? What I would have missed out on – wonderful friends, the fantastic change in my feelings toward sex, the ability to discuss my desires with people who understood and my closeness with Nick, all of these live changing events would have been lost to me if these people hadn’t been here for me when I came looking for acceptance. I want to be here for anyone else that comes out here looking for what I was looking for.
This post has no real point, I am just rambling a little. I hope as we have the time we will keep encouraging each other through comments. We just did gratitude Tuesday yesterday but I want you all to know that I am grateful to everyone who comes here to read and I hope we can talk sometime.
Husband – I can’t think of anything I am more grateful for than my husband. My kids rank up there nearly as high but without Nick I wouldn't have them. Some day the kids will grow up and have spouses of their own. But my husband - I really believe him when he promised ‘so long as we both shall live’.
Hands – especially Nick’s hands. I love it when he will reach over and take my hand during church. I love it when I crawl in bed and he runs his hands all over my body and warms my shoulders when they are cold. Then, of course, there’s the spankings. We have wonderful toys but I love him to use his hand when he spanks me. As my pain threshold seems to be low my butt and his hand are about even in what we can give and take.
Hyacinth – my favorite flowers. The smell of hyacinth is the smell of spring itself!
Health – anyone that can say they have their health has everything.
Hamburger – a thick, juicy, medium rare burger with bacon, cheese melting down the sides. On a bun lightly toasted bun with ketchup and mayonnaise, maybe some crispy fries on the side and while I’m at it I’m thinking maybe a strawberry shake.
And please let us not forget the hard on!! Sorry no picture.
On the diet front I stayed exactly the same this week but I have higher hopes for this week since it has already gone done just a little since Friday. I thought I might be up slightly because Mollie and I at out that Thursday night but I held on. My biggest problem each week is going to eat at Nick’s mom’s for Sunday lunch. I love her cooking! And even after lunch is over and we are cleaning up there are little yeast rolls to nibble on, several different desserts to neaten up the edges! Even the cold bacon left over from breakfast is delicious when it’s at her house. It’s just hard to control myself. So cross your fingers for me and let’s see if I can’t get a down ward spiral going again.
And one more thing - stolen right off my twins site are the answers to the sex toy/kitchen gadgets...
Just because a few of you asked..................
This is a grill press. It is grooved and used with a similarly grooved square grill pan. It's awesome for grilling meats on the stove top but even better for making panini sandwiches. My favorite is a bbq chicken sandwich with roasted red peppers and cheese on it.
This lovely number is a BBQ Grill Basket. I've used it for cooking Tilapia. It holds 3 fillets. Perfect. Two for Scott and one for me. I have also used it for grilling veggies. Asparagus is PERFECT in it!
This is a meat tenderizer. Get your minds out of the friggin' gutter. Geeze. Citrus juicer. I mean is that not obvious?
Garlic press. I gotta tell you when my daughter showed me how this worked I had to get one. You don't have to peel the garlic. Just pop a clove in. Squeeze. Out pops finely diced garlic pieces minus the skin which is left inside the press... completely intact and easily pulled out. How the heck does that happen?
Do you folks NOT know a cookie dough scoop when you see one? Although this LOOKS like one of those apple thingies it's actually much bigger and used for pineapples. Look close it only has the dividers to do 4 pieces. It removes the tough outer rind or whatever it is, the core, and then leaves you with 4 chunks that are easy to slice and/or chunk.
Here's another little gem which I'm sure sent PK and others into the mind gutter. No, it's not sexual. No, I didn't add it in here to throw you off. It's a "tart shaper" and is used for making those little mini pecan tarts and other similarly shaped cookies. Saves you from having to press them with your fingers. Spray it with Pam and there you go. Works GREAT.
This can be used to grate spices, cheese, whatever....
This little item is for me and the grandbaby. The day is coming when I know she'll appreciate it. I already love it. It's a sealer/crust remover. You press down on a sandwich and ta-da. The crust comes off and you have a neatly sealed pocket sandwich. Great for PB&J.
This will zest your fruit... citrus, that is.
And last but not least this is a crinkle cutter. It's great for veggies, fries, cheese. I've had it for years and years and it still works as good as new.
My sister sent this to me and I made the mistake of opening it and reading it at work. Thank goodness it was after three and the students had left. It was only my co-workers who heard me laughing so hard they had to come see what was going on. There is nothing in this story to indicate the husband was a spanker - but if he had been so inclined the wife's butt would be toast, but she would have still been laughing!
I had to take my son's lizard to the Vet. Here's what happened:
Just after dinner one night, my son came up to tell me there was 'something wrong' with one of the two lizards he holds prisoner in his room. 'He's just lying there looking sick,' he told me. 'I'm serious, Dad. Can you help?'
I put my best lizard-healer expression on my face and followed him into his bedroom. One of the little lizards was indeed lying on his back, looking stressed. I immediately knew what to do.
"'Honey,' I called, 'come look at the lizard!'
'Oh, my gosh!' my wife exclaimed. 'She's having babies.'
'What?' my son demanded. 'But their names are Bert & Ernie, Mom!'
I was equally outraged. 'Hey, how can that be? I thought we said we didn't want them to reproduce,' I said accusingly to my wife.
'Well, what do you want me to do, post a sign in their cage?' she inquired (I think she actually said this sarcastically!)
'No, but you were supposed to get two boys!' I reminded her, (in my most loving, calm, sweet voice, gritting my teeth)
'Yeah, Bert and Ernie!' my son agreed.
'Well, it's just a little hard to tell on some guys, you know,' she informed me (Again with the sarcasm!). By now the rest of the family had gathered to see what was going on. I shrugged, deciding to make the best of it.
'Kids, this is going to be a wondrous experience,' I announced. You are about to witness the miracle of birth.
'Oh, gross!' they shrieked.
'Well, isn't THAT just great? What are we going to do with a litter of tiny little lizards babies?' my wife wanted to know. We peered at the patient. After much struggling, what looked like a tiny foot would appear briefly, vanishing a scant second later.
'We don't appear to be making much progress,' I noted.
'It's breech,' my wife whispered, horrified.
'Do something, Dad!' my son urged.
'Okay, Okay.' Squeamishly, I reached in and grabbed the foot when it next appeared, giving it a gentle tug. It disappeared. I tried several more times with the same results.
'Should I call 911?' my eldest daughter wanted to know. (Was that sarcasm??) 'Maybe they could talk us through the trauma.' (You see a pattern here with the females in my house?)
'Let's get Ernie to the vet,' I said grimly. We drove to the vet with my son holding the cage in his lap.
'Breathe, Ernie, breathe,' he urged.
'I don't think lizards do Lamaze,' his mother noted to him. (Women can be so cruel to their own young. I mean what she does to me is one thing, but this boy is of her womb, for goodness' sake.)
The vet took Ernie back to the examining room and peered at the little animal through a magnifying glass.
'What do you think, Doc, a C-section?' I suggested scientifically.
'Oh, very interesting,' he murmured. 'Mr. and Mrs.Cameron, may I speak to you privately for a moment?' I gulped, nodding for my son to step outside.
'Is Ernie going to be okay?' my wife asked.
'Oh, perfectly,' the vet assured us. 'This lizard is not in labor. In fact, that isn't EVER going to happen. Ernie is a boy. You see, Ernie is a young male. And occasionally, as they come into maturity, like most male species, they um .. Um . . Masturbate. Just the way he did, lying on his back.' He blushed, glancing at my wife. We were silent, absorbing this.
'So, Ernie's just, just . . excited,' my wife offered.
'Exactly,' the vet replied , relieved that we understood. More silence. Then my vicious, cruel wife started to giggle. And giggle. And then even laugh loudly.
'What's so funny?' I demanded, knowing, but not believing that the woman I married would commit the upcoming affront to my flawless manliness. Tears were now running down her face.
'It's just .that I'm picturing you pulling on its . . . its. . . teeny little . .
She gasped for more air to bellow in laughter once more.
'That's enough,' I warned. We thanked the vet and hurriedly bundled the lizard and our son back into the car.. He was glad everything was going to be okay.
'I know Ernie's really thankful for what you did, Dad,' he told me. 'Oh, you have NO idea,' my wife agreed, collapsing with laughter.
Two lizards: $140.
One cage: $50.
Trip to the vet: $30.
Memory of your husband pulling on a lizard's winkie: Priceless!
Moral of the story: Pay attention in biology class. Lizards lay eggs!
Friday again folks. I would really like just one weekend that seems to last longer than a few hours! I hope Fantasy Friday helps get your weekend off to the right start. It did wonders for me when I first read it! This is the second story from Florida Dom. His first story (which was his first fiction story) was Training Lisa I thought it was hot and this continuation just got hotter!! I have no doubt you will enjoy
Training Lisa, part ll
Tick tock. Tick tock. Tick Tock. Lisa was waiting patiently for the hour to end so she could email Sir tell him that she was ready to go where he wanted to take her. She was now his. She had just experienced the most wonderful night of her life and she knew she wanted more of that. But Sir had told her that she had to wait at least an hour before telling him, "I will obey, Sir.'' Not that she needed to wait that long.
Even though she hadn't even see him yet because he kept her blindfolded during their first session, she knew he had unlocked something deep inside her that she had been trying to get out all these years. Ever since she was a teen-ager. But she never knew there was a man who could unlock those desires and let them out. She knew that even though she was dominant in the board room, she always wanted to be submissive in the bedroom and she had finally found the man of her dreams to take control of the rest of her life. She was ready to give herself to him and start an exciting journey. She tingled just thinking about it. She wanted him to be the HOH and she wanted to live a DD lifestyle
When Sir gave her that first spanking, she knew it wasn't a hard one because he only used his hand and he warned her that this was just a warmup and that if she wanted more sessions, she would feel searing pain from the welts that would make it difficult for her to sit down. But the spanking had sent a jolt right to her pussy. She knew she became wet immediately. And she wanted more even when he stopped.
And she could live with the fact he denied her an orgasm because he said she had to learn that it was not about her pleasure, it was about his pleasure. He was not one of those slam bam men who was content to finish before she was even warmed up. He knew how a lot of foreplay could leave a woman begging for more. He played with her body as if she were a rare violin. He kept sucking her nipples until they were sore. He ran his hand down her body, slowly running his hand in circles and he slowly ran his tongue up and down her slit until she almost couldn't bear it because she was almost desperate for a release. But part of Sir's training was to make her wait for pleasure on his timetable.
Each time he saw her getting close to orgasm he would stop and ask her how she was feeling. She almost couldn't answer. She would just moan and ask for more, beg for more, please, please, please. But he would just run circles around her tummy with his hand until she calmed down. Then he would start again, running his fingers over her clit and that would bring her back to the brink And then he'd stop again. Then he'd start again and pushed one, two and then three fingers into her slit and massaged her G spot and she thought she was going over the top. But then he quickly pulled out again and she was left gasping. The next time, she tried to disguise the fact that she was close, hoping she could slip over the top before he realized how close she was to an orgasm.. But he was too good at judging the signs that a woman was close to release and he kept teasing her. And all the time he made her keep her arms clasped behind her head so she couldn't touch him or herself. He would do all the touching. He was in charge. He was running the show. He told her he could tie her down, but if she kept her hands behind her head, he wouldn't need to. And he deliberately didn't want her to enjoy an orgasm or have sex on their first meeting. He wanted her to looking forward to more the next time. The way to train a woman was to show her that her pleasure depended on him.
She kept remembering and savoring every detail of the unforgettable evening like when she could hear him leave the room but she could see nothing behind her blindfold and he had told her not to speak unless she was asked a question so she waited in suspense. He quickly returned and she felt something being sprayed on her nipples and her freshly shaved pussy. It felt cold, but she didn't know what it was. It was whipped cream and he worked her back into a frenzy as he slowly licked it off. But again, he stopped when she was just at the brink. By this time she was exhausted and sweaty and he figured she had had enough. So it was time for him to enjoy his pleasure. He came between her tits and then rubbed his cum all over her chest and scooped up a bit of it and let him lick it off her fingers. This was her first taste of his cum, but it was a taste she was to become as familiar with as her orange juice in the morning.
As she came down off her high and gave up begging for a release because she knew she wasn't going to get one, he stayed long enough to tell her how much he had enjoyed the session and she showed the potential to be the woman he was looking for. He wanted a smart woman he could relate to. He liked the fact that she was a success in the business world. But he wanted a woman who would obey, a woman who, if she came on this journey with him, would always defer to him and his wishes. There would be no safe words. She would accept whatever he decided she needed. He might push her past what she thoughts her limits were, but he would always know what her real limits were. If at any time, if she decided she couldn't take it, she could say no and the relationship would be over. She had to have him on his terms or not at all. She wanted to tell him she would accept his terms, but he had told her she couldn't talk unless she was asked a question. So she just listened and thought about how lucky she was. And he told her she couldn't say yes right now. She had to wait at least an hour to email him. He didn't want a rash decision while she was still on a high. He would give her up to a week to make a decision, but she had to wait at least an hour. He then prepared to leave and told her she had to stay on the bed for another 15 minutes until he rang her cell phone number. She could then get up and take off her blindfold. And before he left, he wanted to leave her something to remember him by. She could feel something on her tummy as if he were writing something on her. She wouldn't find out what it said until he left.
As she lay there waiting for the cell phone to ring, she knew she had never felt this way in her life. She was almost in a trance. She had never had an experience like this one. She felt like she had been given a drug and she wanted more. A lot more. Finally, the cell phone rang and she took off her blindfold and her legs were weak as she slowly got out of bed. She looked in the mirror and saw that he had written "Sir's Slut'' on her tummy. She was proud of that. And she saw the bite marks on her tits. They were like badges of honor to her. And there was even a bite mark on her neck. She hadn't had a hickey since she was in high school. She knew she was going to have to wear a scarf to work tomorrow.. And she saw the hair under her armpits, the only hair on her body below her eyebrows now that he had shaved her pussy. It was Sir's mark on her and she accepted it although she figured if would be awkward when she went to the beach in the summer. After she had a cold shower, she dried off but was careful not to touch her pussy with her hand. Only with the towel. He was clear that she was not to touch herself without his permission, much less have an orgasm. After putting on her bathrobe, she went to the computer to do some surfing and wait for the hour to be over. Her right hand kept wandering inside her bathrobe because she wanted to touch her smooth, freshly shaved pussy and her wet slit, but she'd always catch herself just in time. She didn't want to disobey him.
As soon as the hour was up, she went a four word message, "I will obey, Sir.''
He wasn't surprised that she was so quick to send the message. He could tell she was a natural submissive, but she still needed to be trained. It would be an adjustment for her to switch back and forth between the board room and the bedroom. He didn't want to mix the two worlds. Oh, he would make her wear thongs to work to get used to having her cheeks bare at all times, but she could still be a dominant in the office. Many people who don't understand the DD dynamic don't realize that a woman can be a feminist and a submissive at the same time.
He then reminded her what he had told her in the bedroom that she must obey all the rules he set down and submit to his wishes and that she understood that they wouldn't interfere with her work in the boardroom. When she came home at night, all the rules would be suspended if she had any work to bring home. Or if she got any work-related calls. The rest of the time in her condo was his time. He asked her if she understand and she wrote back, "Yes!''
"Yes, what?'' he responded.
"Yes, Sir,'' she was quick to replay.
He warned her not to forget to use Sir in the future again or there would be consequences, but he would let it pass the first time because he hadn't stressed it. He then asked her if she was sitting on her bare butt on the sandpaper on the computer chair the way he had ordered her to.
She quickly realized her mistake. She was in such a state of euphoria that she had forgotten. She had plopped down on her computer chair in her bathrobe and forgot to sit on the sandpaper with her bare butt. She hesitated because she hated to tell Sir that she had not obeyed him. She knew that Sir wouldn't be happy.
"I'm waiting for an answer,'' he replied before she had a chance to tell him about her mistake.
She figured there was nothing to do but take her medicine and she told him that she was awfully sorry that she had simply forgotten but that it wouldn't happen again.
He was not amused. He figured it was time for her first lecture. He told her this wasn't a game. Submitting to him was going to be part of her life if she was to be a part of his life and she had to learn that she had to pay more attention to the rules. He wasn't going to tolerate her being careless because he was going to put more rules in place in the future. This was just the beginning. She had to pay attention and obey. Forgetting a rule wasn't an option. And he couldn't let this pass. There had to be a punishment to send her a message that he was serious about this. She would enjoy a lot of pleasure being with him, but she would learn that she was strict. Did she understand that?
"Yes, sir,'' she typed. She knew there was no point in making excuses. She had failed him and she deserved to be punished. She understood that. He told her he was now postponing the first date they were going to have in public in the next few days. First, she was to suffer her first punishment session. And she obviously still was not ready to see him. She wound be blindfolded during the entire session. He would pick her up and she would be waiting just inside the door blindfolded. He would take her by the arm and lead her to his car to take her to his place for the punishment session because he had many more implements there. This would be a major test for her to see if she was ready to continue their relationship after a punishment session. He was sure that she would be. He figured she was hooked after the sensuous play he had treated her to earlier in the evening. He told her that he would check his calendar to decide when the punishment session would be.
But first, she learned, there was going to be immediate punishment. She would punish herself. He told her to get a hairbrush and a ruler. She would bend over and deliver five blows to each cheek butt with the hairbrush as hard as she could swing. And then she was to add five swats to her pussy with the ruler. She was stunned by how harsh he was being and she wanted to beg for some mercy, but then she thought the better of it. She knew he was strict and there was no point in begging.
She simply typed, "Yes, Sir,'' and went to get the hairbrush and the ruler.
She took a deep breath before she started. He told her to email a picture of her butt after she punished herself. He wanted to see some marks. She decided she would deliver all five on her right cheek as fast as she could to get it over quickly. But the first one stunned her. She didn't know how much a hairbrush could hurt. And this was punishment. There were no endorphins. It just hurt. But she had the satisfaction of knowing she was pleasing him. That's the only way she could stand the next four. And then she delivered the five to her to her other cheek. The pain seared her, but when she looked in the mirror, she could see marks. He would be happy. That's all that counted. She would endure the punishment for him.
But she still had to deliver the five to her tender pussy. She almost doubled over in pain as she delivered the blows but she again knew he would be pleased. That's the only way she could stand it. She had tears in her eyes when she went to the computer to send him the picture and tell her she had obeyed.
He was pleased. He knew that she had passed another test and this was a woman who could be trained to meet his desires. He told her to go to bed now but to remember not to touch herself. He even told her to tie her right wrist to the headboard of her bed so it didn't wander between her legs. She again did as she was told, but it took her a long time to fall asleep because she was so wet between her legs and desperately wanted a release. But she knew that she had to obey. She had to serve him.
And then she wondered what his punishment session would be like and how severe it would be.
As she drifted off to sleep, she knew she was just beginning a journey that she had been waiting for all of her life.
Florida Dom I have to thank you for this story and for pushing all my buttons! I hope everyone that enjoyed this story and your last one will leave a comment and let you know. I sure hope that there are more parts coming. If you have any question for Florida Dom his email address is email@example.com.
Next week's Fantasy Friday story comes with an interesting twist so I hope you will be here to read it too. I know many of you come here to read but I sure hope some of you are writing at the same time. I need more stories!! I need you to try to write one even if you don't think you can. You might surprise yourself. Just let it flow and have fun. Please send any stories you are willing to share with us to firstname.lastname@example.org