Twitter tweedled out

I apologize if you had problems loading the blog yesterday. It was all Twitter's fault (naughty superfluous blogging function!). And since it's rather unnecessary, I ditched it.

Now back to good ol'perverted blogging. And if my tummy ache goes away (which I hope it does 'cause it's feeling strangely reminiscent of the one I had with my PE), I'll tell you all about playing Slutty School the other night. A little hint: it involved studying the British monarchy in the seventeenth century. And some red lace knickers.

Moving slowly to the girlie side

For the last month and a half I've been in a bit of a dommey mood. Or rather, I haven't really been in much of a kinky or sexual mood at all, but if I had to be kinky, I found it easier to be the demanding goddess than a child-like submissive (and when I did feel child-like, I just wanted to be cuddled). Hormonal craziness, unresolved grief, and just plain feeling like shit left me with little inclination towards sex. But it did leave me hungry to be in control of something. And I have to say, I found it rather satisfying making my beloved happy by dressing seductively, barking orders at him, and taking out my frustrations on his backside with a riding crop. I even ended up with a foot massage to boot.

Yet as that last post of mine demonstrated, I'm starting to feel more like my bratty, little girl self. With a touch of slutty school girl thrown in for good measure (more about that in a forthcoming post). I could feel the girlie side slowly taking over the other day while I was topping. Not that it came all at once. I was enjoying my foot massage. I was relishing A.'s wincing while I whipped him. And I was loving the view from the top while we fucked.

Then A. grabbed my breasts and broke the dommey spell.

I slapped him reflexively and castigated him for touching what he knew he was not allowed to touch. He apologized and said he thought I was switching back to subby mode.

"No. I'm not done riding you yet," I said with another slap. Which, I wasn't that exact second, but within three or four minutes I was. I laid down next to him and meekly said, "okay, you can top now."

He seized my breasts.

"These are mine and I will have them whenever I want them." He pinched and pulled my nipples until I yelped.

"Yes, Sir."

"And this is my cunt that I will fuck when I want to." He grabbed my legs. "That's it -- legs up! That's the proper position for fucking."

I grinned. And spread my legs wide.

Now it had been awhile since we had had good ol' missionary position sex as during the last time few times, I would start to pass out. This time as he entered me, I hoped that everything would be fine.

Wrong.

At first it was just a little bit of nausea. Then I started shaking -- almost like shivering, except I wasn't cold. I kept telling myself to take slow, deep breaths. But this horrible, icky feeling flooded through my whole body until I could feel it from my sternum to my fingers and toes. And aside from the light shining out of the lamp next to me, the room had a darkish-tinge. I began pushing A. away and started crying.

"I have to stop! I can't...have to stop..."

Immediately he was beside me, pulling me to himself.

"Hey...oh, baby..."

I cried softly for a few minutes until the icky feeling subsided and I could speak normally. We talked about what had happened. Tried to figure out why (we didn't -- and still can't). And cuddled a lot. Needless to say, the cuddling made me feel like his cherished little girl.

As I mentioned, this always seems to happen when we do it while I'm on my back. It never seems to happen in any other position. However, when I orgasm -- usually from wanking on my back -- I do get this sort of full-body twitching thing going on. Again, almost like shivering, except I'm not cold.

But last night when A. was wanking me off, it was a lot like what happened the other night. I didn't feel so much like I was going to pass out. At first I thought I was just too tired to come -- my clitoris got too sensitive before I could orgasm. Then the twitchy thing started and I thought maybe I was coming, except within a minute or two, that horrible icky feeling started again and I couldn't speak much. And again I cried a bit and we cuddled. And I wondered, am I going to be able to come again anytime soon?

I have no answer to that question (and if you have any idea what's happening to me, feel free to comment), but for the meantime, I think we're going to stick to spanking -- spanking me, that is. Indeed, I'm off to put my school uniform on. I'm feeling like a cheeky schoolgirl tonight.

Brat rule #34

• Never brat when you've just had a bath. Spankings -- even hand spankings -- can be nearly unbearable on freshly bathed skin.

Yes, I bratted right after having my bath tonight -- er...this morning rather. A. told me to go to bed and I made the mistake of telling him to "make me" with a cheeky glint in my eyes.

Needless to say, he grabbed me by the hand, led me to the bed, and took me over his knee.

Ouch.

It was just a hand spanking but...OMG did it sting! Even after I'd taken my nighttime narcotic dose (which, paradoxically, could be making my spankings hurt worse).

So, um, note to self and all that.

Notes on blogkeeping

Alrighty, the dust is gone. I may tinker a bit more, but changes have been made. Widgets and buttons added. A blogroll finally -- FINALLY -- sorted and organized (now that I've figured out 1-click Blogrolling, I'm in blogkeeping heaven!). I still want to put my archives in a drop-down menu one of these days. But, you know, one of these days.

So the changes are as follows:

Recent comments widget: This way you'll be able to follow a thread of comments on a post without having to scroll down, click on comments, scroll through comments, etc. Hopefully this will make for easier reading and commenting. Not that I'm a comment whore or anything like that...

Yahoo Messenger button: Now you can see if I've got my messenger open so you can chat with me via instant message. I do tend to be slightly bi-polar between introverted and extroverted. When I'm extroverted, I'm really chatty on IM. And when I'm introverted, you may not see me on messenger for months.

Pillow Talk: Cunning Linguists is a list of well-written journals that talk about sex. A number in our spanking community are among this fine group and as my blog has become increasingly sexually-oriented (though will probably never be much about fucking), I thought I might join the fun.

The Essential Natty: Sorta like an anthology of what I think are the pivotal or favorite moments in the life of this blog. Note that a few more have been added to this list and a few dropped off.

The Blogroll: I've finally got a 1-click blogroll (I know, where the hell have I been for the last several years?) so now I'll be able to update my list of favorite blogs instantly. And it's in alphabetical order so you -- and I -- will be able to find the blog we're looking for. Though I do reserve the right to change the order as, well, alphabetical order is so done, ya know?

Great Spanking Sites: Somehow I forgot to include Laura's Spanking Corner when I first created this section, a travesty I've now righted. I've also added a link to "This Thing We Do," an online forum Jigsaw Analogy (aka Dyke Grrl) started for those of us in real life disciplinary relationships who want a place to chat with other people into WIIWD.

Tip Jar: The tip jar started out as me trying to figure out how to put a PayPal button on a friend's blog and practicing on this blog. I decided to leave it on last Christmas when we were desperate for money to make A. come back to me faster but I was limited physically in just what I could do to earn money (and still am). Since then it's been a handy source of spare cash from generous readers (you know who you are) to add to our plane ticket fund. I decided to move it further down the left sidebar to give readers a chance to read a bit before they choose whether or not to tip. I've been considering advertising, but I dislike the idea forcing people to view advertising against their will. That said, I may include advertising someday down the road, but it will only be from carefully selected vendors (no Google ads, no random dodgy spankingporn outfits) and absolutely, positively will not include any animation of any kind. In the meantime, I'll just stick with you all and the PayPal button, as well as hopefully finish a spanking story or two to sell (if I ever finish physical therapy, that is).

That's it, dear reader. Those are the changes that I hope will make your time here more pleasant. Enjoy!

Pardon the dust

I've been meaning to clean this blog up for awhile. My blogroll -- or lack of one -- has made for a messy group of urls with glaring omissions and broken links. And I've been wanting to add some goodies like the comments widget, Yahoo Messenger button, Twitter, etc. Some of that I've accomplished tonight (er...this morning). Some of it I have not. But I will get it finished this week (tomorrow, insh'allah as my Arab friends say -- God willing!), and I appreciate your patience while I try to make this blog a even more enjoyable.

In the meantime, my spanking mojo is coming back here and there (well, my domme mojo has been back for sure and my little girl mojo is also creeping back). New juicy posts should be forthcoming both here and the Punishment Book soon.

A swinger of birches

Afraid my spanking mojo has gone to "tentative" the last couple of weeks while I've been a bit sickly. Nothing serious, just the ebb and flow of a weakened immune system, adjusting to new medication (my insurance company finally approved the long acting narcotic my doctor prescribed -- yay!) and too many doctors appointments (now that I'm done with pelvic floor physical therapy, it's on to hand therapy for that finger I broke during my tumble down the stairs back in November).

I keep wanting to post something, especially as my StatCounter numbers have been higher than ever. But while I've plenty of material in my mental notebook to post, I haven't had a matching level of energy. So tonight I will simply leave you with the closing line of the Robert Frost poem, "Birches," (alas his mind is not as prurient as mine) which I came across at my new favorite web addiction, poets.org:

One could do worse than be a swinger of birches.

I daresay that more than a few of us would share such a sentiment.