Friday, February 22, 2008


Ok, I'm still fairly new to blogging so I could be doing something very very stupid...

I've posted comments on others' blogs today, but when trying to post a comment on my own to reply to someone else's, it isn't letting me! I'm wondering now if it'll let me post a regular post. If anyone knows what the heck is up with this, please let me know.


Well, sorry for the boring post, but I'm trying to figure this thing out. Oh, and I guess just so that I can save the text of this response somewhere, I'll stick it on the bottom of this for now.

In regards to comments on "Men in Uniform:"

Sparkle and Chris,

Please forgive me for taking so long to respond to this... my own embarrassment over it has made it difficult.

Sparkle - I'm utterly tickled that out of 741 posts, my blog stood out enough to be worth a read through. That made my day. :)

Chris - Thank you for your understanding. This little issue of mine has been particularly concerning to me because I've recently learned that my neice is also afraid of firemen. A fireman came to her school and she was fine when he was out of uniform, but had a meltdown when he put his uniform on. Also, she's autistic, and from what I've heard, a lot of autistic children tend to hide in closets and under beds during house fires because all of the chaos is too overstimulating to them. So it is really really important to me that she knows to run toward a fireman instead of away. So I know that I need to get this problem under control NOW. How can I help teach her not to be afraid when I so clearly am?
Anyway, thanks to you both. :)


Tuesday, February 19, 2008

Kinky or Vanilla?

So, Red and I had house guests this past week, who just left this morning to return home. Our guests were a man who has been one of Red's best friends for about twenty years now (whom I will call "A."), and his wife (whom I will call "M.").

As far as we know, this couple is entirely vanilla, so before they arrived I carefully made sure that our toys were all put away and out of sight. After having spent the past week with these people, Red and I are left wondering whether our discretion was really necessary.

On separate occasions over the course of the week, Red and I each witnessed A. deliver a playful spanking to M. When I witnessed it, M., who is much smaller than A., was climbing onto A.'s lap. He was sitting in our recliner chair, and she is tiny, so it took a little effort on her part to do this. Before she could sit down, A. wrapped his arm around her, pulled her OTK (well, OTL, really) and delivered several firm (but not really hard) swats to her bottom. She wiggled and whined, and he let her up. And that was that.

Apparently Red witnessed a similar event later in the week, as well as being a part of an interesting exchange in a local store. Red took them both to a local Walmart-type store to do some shopping. As they were walking through the kitchen section, A. apparently pulled a spatula down from the display.

"Do you know how I know this is a good spatula?" A. asked Red.

"No... how?" Red asked.

A. slapped the spatula hard against his hand. M. jumped and again protested. A. laughed and put the spatula away.

Things like this, along with some other general toppiness that occurred, has both Red and I wondering if these people are spankos (or at least the guy, anyway).

So, what do you all think? What clues do you look for to tell whether someone is kinky or vanilla?

Thursday, February 7, 2008

Vanilla Spankings: Part 3

So, during my senior year of high school and freshman year of college, one of my closest friends was dating a guy whom I will call C. C was very tall and very slender - the kind of guy who, even though he was much bigger than me, I simply couldn't see as physically imposing because he looked like he was all skin and bone. I spent quite a bit of time with my friend and C, during which I learned that there was definitely more to him than skin and bone.

During this time, my favorite way to deal with stress and insomnia was to go for long walks. It didn't matter to me what the weather was like, or what time it was. When I felt I needed to walk, I walked.

C hated that I did this. In fact, Red hates that I do this too. It seems that I most want to walk when I can't sleep at night. Only last night I was told that there was NO WAY that he was going to let me go out for a walk in the middle of the night. He said it in that grumpy voice that makes me think I'd better listen.

I remember one weekend night I'd gone out for a walk. It was sometime around midnight or 1 a.m. C was driving home from his job as a dishwasher at a restaurant and happened to spot me. He slowed his truck to a crawl and barked at me through the open passenger-side window.

"I'm fine, C," I called to him, trying to wave him off.

Suddenly the truck was parked and I walked into a wall of C. My nose literally hit his chest. Suddenly I was airborne. He'd lifted me off my feet and tried to put me into the passenger seat of his truck. I struggled, and got a hard smack on the behind for my efforts.

"What the hell was that?!?!" I remember asking. He'd slapped my butt so hard that I thought he'd managed to make a paddle materialize out of nowhere. But it was just his bony hand. My butt ached for a while from just that one smack.

I remember that he scolded me the whole way home and made veiled threats about what would happen if he ever caught me out walking by myself after dark again. I pouted and tried to argue, but didn't push my luck.

Later, after I complained to my friend about what a Neanderthal her boyfriend had been, she confided that he'd spanked her once after she'd done something he found particularly frustrating.

I suppose that C is probably a spanko, though that was the last time my friend ever mentioned having been spanked. He was certainly always a toppy kind of guy. But I guess I'll never be sure about him though.