Still Here....

As the title says, I'm still here.  It seems my muse went on a bit of a vacation around the middle of April.  I think she's returned, but I will know for sure when I sit down to write a proper post tomorrow.

There is plenty to write about; He's been spanking my butt, and other private parts, quite a bit lately.  However, it's late and I'm tired, so I will kindly ask for your continued patience.

Tomorrow, a real post, I promise.

Hoppin' Down the Bunny Trail...

Despite my fondness for all things chocolate, the Easter Bunny did not bring me any chocolaty goodies on Sunday.  But I'm not pouting.

Instead of sweets, the Easter-Master gave me a spanking.  While we didn't dye any eggs this year, He managed to color my butt-cheeks pink and red, with some tiny accents of purple, thanks to some help from Mr. Cane.

Not a bad way to celebrate the holiday, even if He did make me cry.

Be Careful What You Ask For...

"I need a spanking," I said softly, right before He walked out the door to run some errands. He paused, looked at me a little sternly, and replied, "What have you done?"

Um, not the response I expected.

So, I said, "Nothing. I haven't done anything bad, I just need a spanking."

Satisfied that I was still His good little girl (hah!), He said, "Okay," and went on His way.

I don't ask for spankings very often. At least I don't think I do. He might read this and spew coffee all over the place, but in my tiny little mind, I usually follow His lead in this area.

But yesterday I found myself thinking about being spanked, and thinking turned to wanting, and I finally I wanted it bad enough to ask for it.

When He returned from His errands, He took me in the bedroom, bent me over the end of the bed, and...

He whooped my butt.

No restraints. No warm-up (no surprise, I know). No pity for my cries of "Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow!!!!!"

He was rough. And mean. He used the paddle, the cane, and the leather strap. If I tried to stand up, He pushed me back down.

He kept going until I cried. Not little sniffly tears, but big tears, big sobs, snotty nose, the whole nine yards.

Once the tears start, the spanking ends, and sexy-time begins, because what's sexier than a sobbing, snotty slave-girl? (That's a rhetorical question, you don't need to answer that).

Afterwards, as we lay in bed together, He said, "Be careful what you ask for."

Indeed. But I'm glad I asked; it was just want I needed. And I have a beautiful bruise on my right butt-cheek as a souvenir.

Double His Pleasure, Double My Pain...

Last week Master gave me the first spanking of 2013.  He seemed, from my perspective (which at the time was bent over and face down into the mattress), to focus on the "Sweet Spot."

Again, from my perspective, the "Sweet Spot" is the area where your thighs and bottom meet.  It's the part of your butt you sit on, when you are sitting upright with proper posture.  It's the part of my ass that least enjoys being spanked (but that's beside the point).

The point is, to be specific, hitting the "Sweet Spot" serves a dual purpose.  It's multitasking, if you will, which is efficient.  Master loves things that are efficient.  So, when He first hits the "Sweet Spot" over and over and over, until it hurts/stings/burns/is-on-fire (take your pick),  He gets pleasure (He is a Sadist, after all).  

But then, when He takes a break from the spanking so He can fuck me from behind, He causes more pain to the "Sweet Spot."  When He enters me , His pelvic region meets up with/presses against/grinds unmercifully against the "Sweet Spot."  This in turn causes more pain/moaning/whimpering from the slave girl, all of which provide Him with even more pleasure.

Efficiency...it's win-win for everyone.  Master gets to double His pleasure and double my pain.