For the second time now, I've had to take my nipple piercings out for good. They obviously do not like the metal, the first time I tried, I even bought silver bars, that didn't stop them getting infected, sore, bleeding, just horrible.
They haven't felt nice with them in, and if Master tried to play with them, it would take at least a week before they stopped gunking up.
I had a little lump that appeared on one side which never went away, this was like a little cist, as it would leak, bleed, get infected then dry up, to start all over again.
Exactly what happened last time, its a shame as we both liked them but Master will have to play with them using other toys etc instead.
An opportunity has arisen for a weekend getaway at the lake with the girls! Hubs is so sweet. Even though he's been away all week he's insisting I go. I'm so excited! We leave this afternoon. Yes, yes, I know. I'll leave my lines on the dining room table for him to find...lol Have a great weekend, y'all! See ya next week. :-)
2001: A Space Odyssey - the most important film ever?
Released in 1968, 2001: A Space Odyssey was a film unlike anything ever seen before. It was the marriage of minds between cinematographer Stanley Kubrick and the writing of science fiction novelist Arthur C. Clarke. Through mind blowing special effects, Kubrick brought life to Clarkes work of the same name as the two collaborated on the screenplay for 2001.
It has been widely and often debated about the meaning of the film. The film was no doubt, ambiguous - it was intended to be...
"You are free to speculate as you wish about the philosophical and allegorical meaning of the film. I don't want to spell out a verbal roadmap for 2001 that every viewer will feel obligated to pursue for fear he's missed the point"
"If anyone understands it's meaning on a first viewing, then we have failed in our intentions"
Arthur C. Clarke
The film is multi layered in both themes and visuals. It was ground breaking. If you enjoy science fiction special effects, you have Stanley Kubrick to thank, this movie started it all. This is a thought provoking film that takes you on a visual ride like no other before it.
I have many thoughts on my own personal interpretation of the film but rather than bore you to tears, I would just refer you to a Wikipedia search of: interpretations of 2001: A Space Odyssey Wikipedia. If you consider yourself a film buff and you haven't seen 2001, you're kidding yourself. It's that important.
Please check out my latest release from Blushing books, The Reunion!
Each chapter features the story of a different couple at their ten year high school reunion weekend, which seems to have an unusual theme -- M/F spanking, both erotic and punishment.
“Okay! I get it!” she gasped. “I’m sorry already!”
“Not as sorry as you’re going to be...”
“Oh, no! Wait!”
Midway through winding up for a fresh volley of smacks, Rich paused and regarded her silently. He was nothing if not fair... if she wanted a chance to convince him to go leniently on her, he’d give it to her. Then he’d start in fresh all over again, anyway. In his opinion, Gwen had been needing someone to take her in hand like this for way too long, and no amount of wheedling on her part was going to dissuade him from his intentions.
It was during that brief moment of silence while she tried to think of something to say to spare her from more blistering swats, that he happened to look down, and that was when he saw it: her nipples. Her very obvious, rock hard, taut little nipples, standing up at attention. Despite the humid, oppressive heat of the evening and the fact that she was supposedly “scared” by what was going on between them at the moment.
The hard line that had been Rich’s mouth a moment before softened into a crooked grin. Very slowly, he drew his gaze away from her breasts and looked up into her wary eyes. Then, just as slowly, he returned his gaze back to her breasts. He cleared his throat meaningfully.
“It would appear that the lady doth protest too much,” he challenged.
“It’s not... I...” Gwen stammered.
Rich’s gaze warmed as he watched her squirming under his scrutiny.
“Move your legs apart,” he commanded, being careful not to break eye contact.
“Why?” she asked, her voice hitching breathlessly. “What... now what are you going to do?”
“You’ll see in a moment. Now, do as I told you...”
He saw the internal struggle on her face. The fight between one part of her that wanted to do as he said, and another part that probably wanted to punch him in the nose.
After a few heartbeats, she inched her legs aside by infinitesimal steps until they were roughly a shoulder’s width apart.
“Please!” she begged when she felt his fingers dip into the elastic at the top of her panties. Her eyes were wild on his face, searching his gaze.
“Are you begging me to stop, or to continue?” he asked. His mouth kicked up at the corners as he fought back a grin over the look of torn confusion on her face. “Do you even know which it is?”
When she didn’t answer, he decided to treat the question as another rhetorical one. With one hard tug, he pulled her lacy underwear down past her hips and over her bottom cheeks, exposing the round, pinkened hillocks to the summer air.
Rich paused for a moment to gather the underwear in a neat line, stretched taut between her knees. He knelt beside her and noticed how her legs trembled.
“Let’s just see, shall we? Are you begging for me to stop or continue? Your body ought to tell the truth, despite whatever your mouth might say...” His hands cupped her low on her bottom, and he poised his thumb just below her nest of curls, now open to his hands.
He stayed there a moment longer, playing out the tension, allowing her to anticipate the moment when he would reach up into her warm, wet core. He looked up at her and grinned at the fact that her hands had stayed where he’d first put them, stretched out above her head, even though he was no longer holding them there.
When he felt he’d let her squirm long enough, he ran the fingers of his free hand over the crotch of her panties and smiled.
“You’ve got wet panties here, little girl. What a naughty thing you are! Getting all wet and hot over this spanking I’m giving you...” At that exact moment, a drop of her inner juices fell with once-in-a-lifetime precision onto the thumb that he still held poised, though not touching, beneath her pussy.
He chuckled throatily and stood up. Gwen was resting with her forehead leaning against the brick wall, her eyes closed in mortification. “Did you feel that?” he whispered into her ear, loving the way her face flamed intensely red even in the gathering dusk.
She didn’t have to answer him out loud. The tiny nod of her head and deepening of her blush was more than answer enough.
“Stay... Just... Like... That...” He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her against his side. Then he started spanking again.
This time, he made sure to give her time between the smacks to appreciate the heat and the sting. He scattered the slaps around the whole of her bottom, moving from side to side and up and down, even giving her a couple on the very tops of her thighs where her skirt would still hide any redness that might arise. She whimpered under his attentions, and her breath grew ragged and labored. She almost sounded, to Rich’s ears, anyway, as if she was on the brink of an orgasm.
But she stayed in the position he’d put her in. And she held on, in that dark side alley outside her high school reunion dinner dance, through a good solid ten minutes of open-handed slaps to her bare bottom.
When Rich decided she’d had enough, he released his hold on her waist and stepped behind her. He leaned over her shoulder, allowing the front of his pants to graze against the tender, red area of her backside, and he whispered in her ear, “Do you know what I want to do now, Gwendolyn?”
She glanced back at him with heated eyes. “What?”
“I want to take you, just like this, right here, where anyone could come along and find us. I want you to stand there, just like you have been since I put you in that position, while I fuck you from behind. I want to let your well-spanked ass cradle me as I glide inside of you. While I pump in and out of your pussy, I want your sensitive behind to feel my hips and pelvis with each thrust. And I want to cup those little nipples of yours while I come inside you.” He nipped at the earlobe that he’d guided her outside by.
“What do you think of that, Gwen?”
He allowed his thumbs, just once on each side, to gently graze her distended nipples through the thin fabric of her blouse and was rewarded with a throaty sigh.
“So, go ahead and do it,” she managed to say, maybe trying to sound bold and uncaring, but only coming out sounding like what she really was... desperate for him to do just what he’d threatened to.
“Don’t you want to dare me, first?” he joked.
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Sorry, I did it again... Please read #18, below, first. TY
“So be it”, he said. He stood her up and applied the cream, but he was anxious to move on, now. He was frustrated with her stubbornness, and he was ready to go to work. He brought her to the bench, holding her hand. She followed, but was a reluctant companion, on the walk. Once there, he placed her near the bench, and stood back.
“Take off everything… Now. Then, kneel at the bench and bend over it, while I secure you. I'm not restraining you, as punishment, Justina, but because it's important that you be still, for your own safety. It may be very difficult for you to do, without cuffs and straps.”
“Yes, Sir. Why would it be difficult? If you tell me not to move, I will obey you. I know, I moved around during my spanking, but I didn't put my hands in the way, or try to get away.”
“Because I said so, is reason enough, and it is not yours, to question me, young lady. To whom do you think you're speaking? I've given you more explaination, that I was inclined to give or that you deserved. I wanted you to understand my reason. Do you think, I don’t know best? Get those clothes off, this instant and get on that bench, before I get cross with you.” Again, she didn't answer, but complied with his instructions. He'd be more than happy to paddle her bratty bottom. He was shocked at her smart mouth and lack of respect.
“Did I ask you a question, and you failed to respond, again?”
“I'm sorry, Sir, what was the question?” She knew she was testing him, but she was getting her courage back. She'd been strapped by her Father, since she could walk. That, she was sure, was what he had in mind. She had no doubt she could hold up. She'd prove him wrong. He would not break her.
James took a deep breath, and exhaled slowly, releasing the anger, he felt welling up in him. It was silly to let this little girl irritate him. He knew what the outcome of this little session would be.
She was foolishly assuming, that he had tried, in their past sessions, to break her. He had not. He did NOT fail, at whatever he set his mind to. He would not stop, until he had reached his objective. In the unlikely event the paddle, did not have the desired effect, he certainly had other options at his disposal. If she was lucky, she would break quickly, because he had all night, if necessary.
Justina felt a little bit of panic, as he fixed the last strap into place. He,then, used a foot pedal to extend her legs. Her body resembled an upside down “V”. Why had she she agreed to this? Why had she taunted him? It was too late for questions.
James blindfolded her, for good measure. He unbuckled his belt, and slid it out of its loops. He wanted her to think, that he intended to give her his belt. He'd give her a few licks to maintain the illusion and then….
She knew it, she almost laughed. She wasn't afraid of the belt. It was like meeting up with an unpleasant acquittance. It was uncomfortable, but it was no big deal. She did worry, that she was already so sore. It might hurt worse on her damaged buttocks, still she felt no real threat.
James took a ballplayer's stance and gave her a good lick, low, across the thighs, nearly at her knees. She reacted, more than she wanted. She'd rarely received a hit there, and it burned, badly. So THAT was his game, to get her, where it hurt the worst. Do your best, old man, she thought, wickedly. She didn't mean it, though. She was psyching herself up for the whipping. It was all bravado.
The next one was high on her ass and the fold of the belt, bit her hip, like teeth and dragged across her tender globes. The third, soon followed. He caught the underside of her curvaceous rump. All three hurt much more, than she'd imagined. He was not her Father, an arthritic aging man, who had children, too late in life. He was in his prime and she began to realize, into what, her mouth had gotten herself.
He stopped and rubbed her bottom a little. He went to the front and offered her a sip of her drink, with a straw. She eagerly gulped down the entire drink. He put the glass down and slid the paddle out of his briefcase. She was in for a shock.
James looked over the damage to Justina’s hindquarter. The birch had scratched through the skin in a couple of places, but for the most part the wounds were superficial, but painful.
He rubbed and squeezed her hot as cheeks. He felt her legs shake, an aftershock of the whipping. His hand couldn't help but search for her wetness. She was drenched… He marveled at how erotic, the punishment could be even when it was harsh. Her lips were swollen, as the birch was indiscriminate, in its touch. He had not intended this injury but there it was. He parted her asscheeks and find that the branches had found their way between them. That tender area had a few bites, as well.
“Open your legs, Justina, let me see.”
His fingers pulled at the skin, leaving white trails behind, and even her inner thighs were not spared. Those willowy strands had insinuated themselves, fiendishly between, leaving a trail of misery behind. He told her to stand. He could see a few tears, drying on her face, and kissed them. They were a sweet reward but he was thirsty, for more. She had an impudent look on her face. It annoyed and challenged him. He was up to the task, was she?
“How are you doing, my beauty? Harder than you thought?”
Though she felt the fire burning behind her, her pride would not let her admit it. “It was hard, Sir, but I could handle myself.” It was over, she thought,and was relieved. He'd only pried a couple of tears, from her eyes. She felt triumphant, he hasn't broken her!
“Let's address those wounds.” James had the necessary items at the ready. “Come lay across my lap, dear. You did very well!! Why, just Look at this bottom, why it's so red and hot!!” He loved having her across his lap. “And it's even hotter in here, is it not? I've exited you, haven't I, or why would you be so juicy?” His fingers were at work opening her up, making her relax…
“Yes, Sir, I was excited.”
“You wanted this, didn't you - to find your limits?
We haven't quite gotten there, though, Love, but we will. I'm quite sure of it. All those tears you've saved up, inside… They'll be mine, tonight.”
“Oh, no, James, you don't mean…. There's more?”. The defiant tone was gone. Uncertainty crept in. Trepidation made her tremble. His fingers felt so good and she could feel the endorphins, flooding into her bloodstream.
“Oh, Sir, it feels so… “, Her heavy breath, swallowed her words. His other hand grabbed at her cheeks, letting his digits sink into her tissue. He worked her towards pleasure but tempered it with pain.
He slapped her bottom hard, and she bucked and groaned on his lap. “Shhhhhush now, you need this”, he said. He was warning her up for the paddle. It was a mercy, he was showing her, because that paddle was going to hurt. The devious nature of its design, was to loosely contain a series of metal plates, between soft leather. The dynamic was whip-like, with a thud of power and weight. The end would snap, with a twist of the wrist, and it grabbed as it swatted, dragging the damaged tissue with it, pulling it. Gregory had described its effect, and James had been anxious to test it out. The metal plates, weighted the blow, so the damage reached deeper, into the flesh. He knew from Mr. Stern, that Erin, who had been trained by Raven herself, had broken completely, with just a few whacks, and she was at least as tough as Justina and better trained.
She was fluid on his lap, now. He didn't really, even try to contain her. Let her thrash around, he thought. When the paddling began, she'd be tied down, for her own safety. He wouldn't risk a errant hit. No, she'd be fastened, tightly to the bench. He was going to raise the rear deck, all the way up, and lower the front, nearly to the floor. He swatted at her legs, and then opened them. The impossibly translucent skin was almost blue-ish. He slapped it until it was crimson. Each spank, was designed to surprise and sting her. He pulled back her cheek and got colored her there, too. He pushed her way over his lap and smacked the little triangle of sensitive nerve endings, leading into her crotch. She let out a howl. That pleased him. He whacked her sit spots, and soon it was hard to see the welts, because her entire bottom was very red.
“Oh, that was very nice, Justina… Very nice!
Your bottom is nice and ready, for the main event….. Unless you've had enough, but you haven't, have you? Justina… You need it, don't you? You deserve this, for that false pride, and insolence… Don't you?!”
“Yes, I mean no...I m-mean, I can take it.”, she said shakily. I have been prideful, Sir. I'm sorry, Sir.”
“I'll take you to the bench, and there, you won't have to control yourself. You won't be moving all over the place, like you did on my lap. You know better, my pretty, than kicking and twisting, but I let it go. You are a naughty girl, though and you’re in need of correction. Come into the bathroom, and I'll put some cold cream on your bottom and wash your face. Then we'll start fresh, yes?!” She said nothing. He turned, raising his brow at her. “Yes?”
“Oh, yes, Sir, I'm sorry, Sir.”
“Do not be disrespectful. I will not tolerate that, do you understand me?”
“Yes, Sir, I'm sorry, Sir.”
He lifted her onto the counter of the sink, sitting her hot bottom on the cold marble. He knew the cool would be soothing, but the weight of her body, on her scorching rearend, would also be painful. He washed her face and neck, with the cool cloth, and kissed her forehead. “Can you take more, Justina? Be truthful, look me in the eye.” He still saw defiance. Sighing he knew she'd have to taught this hard lesson. She had not let go, her pride kept her at bay, but it was unacceptable! He had been patient with her over the last several months, but she would submit fully, and that meant surrendering herself, to him.
*Due to file size, the rest of this chapter is above #19. Sorry for any inconvenience. TY.
I'm a strong believer in the 1950's household way of life, where the man is the head of the household and his wife/girlfriend follows his lead. She's able to have her career and opinions and stuff, but her husband/boyfriend has the final say. Period. And if she breaks a rule or misbehaves in brat behavior form? She can expect a spanking, and maybe some corner time. Period. I have experience in running a home smoothly, my mother taught me how to do this while I was growing up. All through the relationships of my first two Doms, I ran the home while he was at work...buying groceries and necessary items for the home, making the meals and balancing the checkbook, and helping to raise my 2nd Dom's children. I'm in my element as a submissive housewife, and I love it more than anything.
Y'all are so well spoken and articulate! Some of the things that I've read here and on FetLife have really stirred my soul. Things felt deeply within my heart. Things my brain tries to think through and process, but yet can never fully express or explain. I'm learning so much about myself. Thanks for sharing.
Justin's laughed at James, as he joked about the evenings possibilities.
“How hard???” Her fingers went to the front of his pants. “You'll soon see, won't ya, now?”
James was already stiffening, but it would be
awhile, before he was ready for any of that. He had other plans in store, for Miss Justina, and she was as game as he was, at least right now, she was. He wondered where her line would be. He'd punished her before, and she'd taken it in stride. How would she handle the birching and the paddle? He withdrew a few sticks from the bundle…. Let's start with a switching, he thought.
“Come here, Beauty, dance with me.” James held her, gently, kissed her and nuzzled her neck and ear, using his breath, to bring shivers to her spine. He felt her generous, but shapely behind. He squeezed it, hand on skin. Her panties were tiny in comparison to her full hips.
He loved how they jiggled, when they were hit.
He wondered how her thick thighs would handle the switch. He wanted her to dance, but a different step, than the one they were sharing now, but one must be civil with a friend. He would have liked to pull her straight to the bench, but he'd give her a few minutes to settle in.
Justina was a lovely girl. She'd held his interest, because though she could be submissive, she was also strong. It was an odd juxtaposition, her absolute self sufficiency and confidence on one side and her ability to defer...to just set aside her choices and bend to his will, on the other. She was smart, too, though not well educated. She'd been forced from school, at fourteen to tend to the family, when her Mother died. She read voraciously, which made her a wonderful companion. She could converse, in almost any subject, without seeming foolish, even one she knew nothing about. He did admire her, in many ways. It was precisely why he wanted to try to define her limits. He needed to find her vulnerability. Even in her submission, thus far, she seemed in control, and he just couldn't abide that. He needed to feel he had taken the upper hand, not just that she let him have it, for a time. He wanted to grab it from her and see her acknowledge it. Tonight, he'd find what was behind her playful eyes.
“Shall we begin, ‘Tina? I've cleared the desk. I want you to bend over it, holding on to the edge on the other side. I know it's a stretch, but I want your on your tippy toes. Try not to have them leave the floor. If you come out of position, your return at once. Am I understood?”
“Yes, Sir.” She bent, seductively, over the desk,
glancing back with a sly smile. She loved to play with Mr. King, he didn't talk down to her and he was one of the few men, she truly respected. He wasn't a liar, or a pretender. He was, as he appeared to be, a resident of the top of the food chain.
James took the two birch switches in his hand, and approached her lovely bottom. Bent over, like this, he could see her femininity glisten with her juices. His palm was rough. He prided himself on his physical prowess. He would never tolerate weakness, in himself. Though he could distance himself, from any physical labor associated with his commercial development firm, he instead found, he liked to keep his hand in the work. His calloused fingers danced over her skin.
His hand was barely lifted from her thigh, when he delivered ten, very quick and wicked lashes.
The branches tore their way through her pale flesh. She yelped, out of surprise, as the devilish duo striped both her bottom and her thighs. She took them gracefully, though he knew they pained her. There ware angry red lines across her butt and legs… Two for every stroke. Let's progress he thought. He took the birch bundle. They were notoriously painful.
Justina was waiting, she knew it was coming. She'd as much as dared him, to play rough and she was ready. It wasn't so much that she liked pain, it was that she transcended it. It took her to a different place. It made her feel things that nothing else could bring out of her. She knew he was testing her. She wanted to know herself, how much could she take? She had a safe word. She could stop it, if she needed to, but she'd never used it, not even once. Would he make her say, “Uncle”?
James took the bundle of long whip-like branches. They must be over two feet long and began thrashing her. They dragged over her Ivory skin like paint brushes, leaving behind a tail of fuscia. Her complexion brought out such amazing color!! She wasn't screaming, but she was definitely moving, and her breath was fast and loud. From one toe, to the other, her weight shifted as the birch struck again and again. Her whole bottom rippled as she wiggled and jiggled to the beat of the birch. At last, dozens of strokes later, she was twisting, and her calves were bending up, as he hit her. Her bottom and legs looks like she'd been scratched by a band of wild cats. He had not warmed her up first, purposely. He wanted her to feel every lick, of every switch. He knew it was hurting, as the new strikes crisscrossed, the last. He was beginning to hear mewing sounds, sneak out of her mouth. Ahhh, now we're getting somewhere!
He did not stop just yet, not to allow her to catch her breast and not to rub or sooth her. He changed sides and deliver about dose of that bitter medicine. He was really putting his arm into it. Her torso began to rise up, and he warned her. “Back into position!!”
“Ye-yes, Sir.”, Justina’s voice was catching in her throat. She was holding back the tears. I will not cry, she told herself. There were so many points of pain and heat!! She struggled to shift away, from the strike, but it caught her and wrapped around her hip. Some of the branches were breaking and they were sharp. They were catching her, between her cheeks and legs. They stung like crazy, then the pain grew and the skin blistered. Oh, okay, okay. She heard the sounds of breath, turn to sobs, and felt the tears well in her eyes. James heard them too, and he was very thrilled. His own heart raced and his breath was ragged. His cock was huge.
He stopped, to admire his work. He felt her smoldering skin. The welts were amazing, like a work of modern art, striping the pale canvas. There were hundreds of lines twisting and stretching across the expanse of her derriere. They varied in shares of red, pink and purple, a virtual palette of her pain. Her thighs were battered too. Mr. Stern's paddle would top, even this. She had no idea that this was only the warm up.