Being a Switch is Awesome Part One: Being an Excellent Spanky Winggirl

I had a very hard week last week—my job is seeming impossible at times and my body spent the whole work week fighting the urge to run away, leading to depressed exhaustion. I’m going to try and advocate for some changes, but over the weekend the only way to make it better was to spend time feeling competent, safe, and happy. So off to the dungeon I went.

I’m not usually one for costumes, but while I was out running some sex-toy errands I saw the above angel wings and satin cuffs and got inspired. I didn’t have any good-girl white underpants though, so I just went with my lucky ones. Actually, I think all of the underpants are my lucky ones lately.

It was Winggirl One’s birthday and she’d asked me if I knew any Doms I could introduce her to. I didn’t, but it occurred to me that if I invited my Asker-Outer guy from last week, I could test out his spanking skills and then pass him on to her if he did well. He had other plans but liked the idea of me coaching him into the local kink scene. Of course I’m almost as new at it, but I know what I like and I think I can show him—I got a warm feeling in my belly from that plan and assured Winggirl One that she would at least get spanks from me.

Anyway, so when I got there, I was happy/sad to see Cute Master and Pretty Slave at the bar. Even though I know it was the right thing to break things off with them, I felt terrible about not having that connection. She buried her face in my glitter-covered cleavage and I just wished I could whisk them away. She’s so pretty, you guys, I can hardly stand it.

Apparently, she felt the same, since she said: “You’re too pretty, go home.”

“You’re too pretty too! Let’s all go home.”

And we all wished we could but agreed that I oughtn’t fall for them. Supersigh.

The Fireman’s Girl (you may remember her draped pinup-style across the Huge Handed Fireman at that Labor Day party I loved so much…) was there too, and was, somewhat appropriately, waiting in line for fireplay. She convinced me to join the line, too. I’d run across a street fair with fire-juggling earlier in the day (as one does) and had been hankering to be set lovingly on fire. There were four fireguys working that night, none of them the Fireguy from this story. I love that the Fireman’s Girl was egging me on so encouragingly, what a good influence!

Winggirl One came over to watch and wait with me. A cute guy was watching next to her so she said hello, and I saw my chance to instigate some fun. “It’s her birthday!” I said helpfully, and from there they took it right to spanking. It was agreed that I would warm her ass up and then he would take it from there. Huzzah! Winggirl mischief managed. I asked one of the fireguys if I could be next and when his response was (ha) lukewarm, I decided I was bored of waiting.

Winggirl One’s new friend and I led her over to a kneeling bench and had her strip down to her (my) Hello Kitty nipple tape and sheer teal panties. I promised to remember this time that she doesn’t like wedgies the way I do. The DJ was having such a good ear for spanking rhythms, and after I asked her to give me a hand signal if it got too stingy, I got right into the rhythm of it.

Everyone should have the experience of spanking somebody while wearing lingerie, pretty shoes, angel wings, and a halo. I’ve never felt hotter. The more I got into the beat, the bigger my grin got. Joy was just shining up through me like a beam of sparkling light. It was a charge not just of power, but of I-can-do-this. I loved that my friend was smiling big and everyone who was watching was smiling too. I figured she was warmed up and handed her over to the guy, high-fiving him with my not-sore-yet left hand.

But I wasn’t done. The Puncher’s Girl had told me she’d take all the aggression I had, so I aimed to sneak up behind her, grab her by the hair, and pull her over to another free kneeling bench. She caught me, though, and I led her over in a more civil manner. She told me to hit her as hard ad I could and wiggled her ass with joy.

She looked beautiful, everybody. She was in a blue lace leotard and had matching bright blue eyeshadow. Her long, dark, wavy hair was streaming over the bench like a princess. When I wasn’t yanking on it, I was smoothing and arranging it to look even more princessy.

“You look so pretty and you’re being so good. You’re such a very nice young lady.”

She smiled and cooed and wiggled some more and I pressed her against my front to hold her still. I hit her harder and harder until my hand started to hurt and she offered to go get me a paddle.

“Are you sure? I’ve never used one before. Will you tell me if I mess up?”

She assured me that she would and went to their toy bag to get a smallish paddle.

“It’s just like a hand, but wood,” she said.

I tested it a little and found a good spot.

“Right there,” she said “If you have any rage you want to get out, that’s the place to do it.”

It’s hard to be mean to someone so sweet but I went ahead and let it out, let myself lose control a little bit, even if I couldn’t help checking every so often if she was okay. I love hitting her. She feels so lovely underneath me, my right hand pressing down on her back between her perfect shoulder blades, my left hand wielding the paddle. Sweat dripped down. I felt like a goddess. I pulled her up, hugged her and thanked her. She said that if I wanted to, I could use her ass to learn all the tools.

Next: Fire tickles!

A Veto and a Happy Accident Part Four: Ropes and Girls!

“You got the rest of those ropes in your bag?”

“Um, yeah.”

“So maybe you could put them on me?”

“Maaaaaybe, since that’s your thing…”

“One of my things, yes.”

After some more smooching and spanking, I went to put tape on and we met up in the opposite corner of the room, the same corner where all of the Cute Master shenanigans too place last time.

It’s hard to put into words the feeling of unrealness that followed me throughout the night—I’d wanted to be here with him over the summer, wanted it so badly that I’d always been terrified to ask. The difficulty of asking for something is often proportional to how much I want it—a silly and counterproductive habit I’m trying to break. So Saturday night, although I was an entirely present animal, I felt like I was walking through a fantasy as well—a fine feeling for a pretty series of scenes.

I hadn’t even thought about having ropes on since Sweetie, it seemed like one of those deep things that might make me get attached. But all I felt as he sat there unwinding and sorting his shiny cream-colored ropes was glad anticipation—there’s a reason it’s called play. I think I’m done with ruling out things based solely on the idea that they might get me attached—it can’t be predicted and I think I can trust myself to decide from moment to moment.

After I made a comically awkward attempt to go over his knee, (One thing the Regular Dungeon really needs is couches.) he instructed me to kneel at his feet. I put my arms around him and he spanked. I don’t remember any pain, though there must’ve been some. He pushed my face down close to his crotch and held it there, gently forceful. (Which reminds me, pal, I’m pretty sure blow jobs aren’t what makes me fall in love…) While I was still kneeling between his legs, he started a rope corset. I loved the smell of him and the softness of his hands grazing my waist and back. Instead of going into a ropey trance like sometimes happened with Sweetie and others, I got more awake and more brazen.

He had me stand so he could work the ropes better, and in the process of standing I accidentally backed into another rope scene that was happening on the bench perpendicular to us—and look who it was! The rope top girl with her cute boy and pink rope who’d so inspired me last time. I apologized for backing into her and she said it was enjoyable. I told her how much I’d liked watching them last time and informed her that we should be friends forever.

It’s occurring to me that I should stop giving SG a hard time about being incorrigible—I am certainly getting there!

I kept chatting them up while Steampunk Guy focused all the way on the corset. The rope top girl complemented my boobs and I told her she could touch them absolutely any time. She got up and, one hand still tethering her boy by his blue-rope-handcuffed wrists, copped a feel. I think that’s the first time she kissed me, too, easy as if she’d been doing it for years, as if she was just naturally entitled. It just turns me on so much when people act entitled to me.

At another point during his corset-making, I decided that SG and I should catch up on some high-fives, since we’d missed so many over the past two months. The rope top girl joined in, showing me a tattoo on her wrist that simply said “Awesome.” If that’s not a sign that my life is on the right track, I don’t know what is.

As he was putting the finishing touches on the corset, I spotted Winggirl One across the room and remembered that she was supposed to be first, and I know how stinky it is to have to wait, so I asked SG if we could pause the ropes for me to go and give her the what-for I’d promised. He agreed but kept winding and weaving the rope, and when I started to wander off he yanked me to him by the rope at the center of my middle, and I bubbled over with glee, jumping up and down like the ridiculous girl that I am.

My idea was for him to help me beat her up, but for whatever reason it didn’t work out that way. She was at the corner of the bar, not really looking like she was waiting for anything. I grabbed her by the hair and led her over to the corner. Part of what she’d asked me to do was convince her to get as naked as I was, but she needed no convincing, stripping down to her sheer black panties and pretty pink and black embroidered bra. She was bolder than last time and chose a kneeling bench close to the center of the room.

I had a lot of aggression to let out, and she let me. She helped me to figure out how to give her the thuddy spanks she wanted, coached me when I got to stingy. We had to pause for a moment so that the auction items could be announced (It was starting in a few minutes. I had donated a painting and the idea of watching it get auctioned felt much more vulnerable than any of this…) but when I started up again I just lost self-consciousness and whaled on her until she stopped me. I gave her a kiss and a hug, asked if she was okay and she was, except she had to remind me that she doesn’t love wedgies the way that I do. Ohno, sorry lady!

I ran back over to Steampunk Guy, worn out but warmed up from the spanking, ready and excited for more ropes.

Next: Just like in the dream.

Kissed, Punched, and a Little Sadistic, Part Four: Got in Trouble for Running

When it was Winggirl One’s turn to get spanked by Cute Master, I got all excited and offered to help hold her down—I’ve always wanted to do that! He thought it was a pretty good idea and I like being helpful.

So WO knelt down in the same spot I’d just been in. Pretty Slave held down her left shoulder and I held down her right. She relaxed into his strikes at first, but then started to buck and fight. I loved the tension of her body pushing against me. Forcing her back into position, I felt a real mean streak come out, all the way up from my belly. I didn’t really hurt her, but I was sure riled up to hold her down and I loved that PS and I were working on this together, as a team. I’ve always aspired to be a good team player.

When he offered to beat her up front, though, I had to tag out. I just don’t want to be a part of boob-hurting. I wandered off to where Old-Timey Guy and co were situated and caught the eye of The (soon to be) Puncher. His face lit up with an enormous grin and he said “Oh, I know that look. You’d better run.”

How to have complete and utter joy, if you’re me: be in bra, underpants and heels running as carefully as I could through the party (didn’t want to mess up anybody’s scene or get a stray single-tail in the eye) with a boy in pursuit. What a perfect moment, even after the Dungeon Owner called out “No running!” and I had to only pretend to run. “Run slow!” a member of the crowd called out helpfully, and that’s what I did.

There’s a bar in the corner of the party that they don’t use, and I’ve spent many a happy moment bent over against it. That’s where I chose for our scene. I realized I was still in my bra and had to go get situated—I ended up bonding with some new friends in the bathroom over my Hello Kitty tape, it never fails.

The Puncher was responsible and considerate (part of the reason I trust him is because he’s been guided by Old-Timey Guy) asking what not to do. Most of my limits didn’t seem like things that would come up, but I rattled them off anyway. They just don’t feel the way they used to, the limits. Should write about that sometime.

Aside from his youth, The Puncher is exactly my type--tall, big, and scruffy-smiley, and his big hands did not disappoint. They stung against my end-of-the-night tender behind. I grabbed hold of the bar and held steady, screaming my head off as I’m wont to do.

“Do you mind a little punching?”

“Go for it!!”

And that felt even better than the spanks. Deep, emphatic thuds I could feel all the way through my pelvis. I felt my hoo-ha swell up and get wetter and everything started to seem really out of control down there. I’ve never felt anything quite like it—aroused in like six directions at once and throbbing/pushing back in rhythm with his hits. It hurt so bad and felt so wild but I just kept white-knuckling the bar, braced myself and pushed my ass out for more.

He came close behind me and leaned up to my ear to check in. (Is there any better feeling? Well yes, but Dom-leaning-in-to-ask-how-I’m-doing is definitely close to the top of the (LOOOONG) list.) I was out of breath and flustered, sweaty and a little scared, but I said keep going, and he did for a while. It was one of the few scenes I’ve stopped because I’ve actually had enough. He said I hung in there longer than most.

We hugged a good long time standing up, but I knew I should ask for more snuggly aftercare. (I should’ve asked beforehand, bad girl, but I don’t always want it or need it.) I felt shy about asking because I didn’t know what his agreements were—aftercare just seems so much more personal than all the other parts.

But he was so sweet, and he said it was up to me, not him if we had aftercare, and we went to find a quiet spot. I was still flushed and panting and so was he. It was such a nice purely animal-comfort feeling wrapped up in his arms. His heart was racing so fast and I liked the vulnerability of that. Snuggling with The Puncher didn’t have the same emotional resonance as the CBATP cuddles from the week before, but I loved just feeling like happy animals with him.

He apologized for sweating all over me but I explained about Lesbian Island, how I’d been deprived of men so long that dude smell is always such a very very good thing. The Puncher’s Girl came over and I thanked her for lending him to me—she was so excited that we’d played.

***Note: I am a terrible feminist when it comes to handing out pseudonyms. I keep naming girls after the names I’ve given their boyfriends, when of course they have their own identities and could be named a million other things. But there are getting to be a lot of characters and it’s helpful to keep track of who belongs to whom. Also, I keep referring to women as girls, but that’s just because I like to.***

We all sat around and chatted for a bit before I realized that I was satisfied to the point where I kinda needed clothes back on. (“Boring!” said The Puncher’s Girl, who herself was back in her pretty, flowy dress.)

I went back over to where I’d left my suitcase and got dressed. Pretty Slave very helpfully took my tape off for me. It was time to start saying goodbyes, and in the process I found out that Old-Timey Guy and Punk Rock Girl have a party coming (at this house that I got chained to one time) and once I got myself invited I jumped up and down with little-girl glee. Old-Timey Guy always brings that out in me.

I squeezed Cute Master and Pretty Slave into a three-person hug and thanked them for everything.

“Keep inviting me to stuff, ‘cause I’m only gonna get sluttier!”

“We’d like you even if you weren’t.” said Cute Master.

Aw.

The next day I realized I maybe had pushed myself a little too far. I felt a little like I’d smoked a cigarette, even though I haven’t in ten years, and a little paranoid that I’d messed up somehow, even though there was absolutely no evidence. I think partly I’m nervous about how well things have been going, that it somehow won’t be true, but I’m going to do my best to just keep letting awesome things happen, after a teensy little break to process and let all of those fantastic bruises heal.

Kissed, Punched, and a Little Sadistic, Part Two: A Rope Daydream and My Winggirl Has to Go Buy Panties

Friends, the day might come before too long when I might learn the knots and start tying up good, sweet boys. As I sat around with Pretty Slave and Cute Master snuggling and watching the crowd, such a cute scene unfolded on the bench across from us.  They were a youngish couple, clearly smitten with each other, and the girl had the boy all done up in fairly tight but mostly decorative ropes. To add to the heartstring-tugging, their ropes were pink.

She pinched and prodded him some, but mostly she kissed and caressed him. The rope bottom guy reminded me a little bit of CBATP—same scruffy-but-sweet face, similar deer-eyes. Something about this bottom’s docile, adoring expression just woke something up in me, and I started to understand what was behind the expressions I’d sometimes enjoyed seeing on Doms’ faces: proprietary and protective, sweet and whole. Because ropes stir up such deep emotions, I feel like that kind of play might be a ways off, but it’s so cool to have felt those things.

I think it’s important right now not to over-identify with these feelings, but just try and slow down and experience them. I’m such an unformed cloud of energies and urges, I just need to sort of go with them without attaching or trying to pin myself down to any one identity or role. Not-attaching is so not my strong suit, but still!

Winggirl One pulled me out of my rope-inspired reverie when she came over with her CVS bag. She doesn’t wear undies and you need them to play at the Regular Dungeon. The resourcefulness of the moment cracked me up. Plus, she gave me the rest of the pack.

I stayed in my seat and she bent over in front of me, pulling down her pants. I reached up and pulled her shirt up most of the way, just for the sense of power pulling her out of her clothes gave me. I spanked her for a while, finding it easy to get a good rhythm going with so many spanks going on around me.

She wanted to kneel down so we switched spots. Kneeling on the bench, her face was kind of smushed into the wall. (I’d enjoy the same feeling shortly thereafter…) Cute Master showed me the best way to pull her hair, and then he and I high-fived. I think this is my record for most high-fives in a dungeon night!

When we finished, I gave her a big hug and told her she’d done an excellent job. She returned the compliment.

While being the spanker is still not the thing I go bonkers for, I like that I can give my subby friends a little extra fun in their evening. I also like the feeling of strength that comes out in me when I do it—I think the power-surge that came from topping served me very well throughout the rest of the evening. Also! Sexy arms are one of my goals and it was quite the workout!

Next: I watch, I get hit, I hold a girl down, and so on, and so on…

Kissed, Punched, and a Little Sadistic, Part One: Maybe I Am a Girl Gone Wild

At the M/s meeting last weekend I got an interesting piece of advice. The head Master said “The only way to really learn what you want is to go out and try lots of things. You can’t do that with just one person.” That might explain the trapped feeling I’ve gotten even in recent lovey-dovey relationships I really liked. It’s probably just time to run and play on my own terms for a while.

But as I was getting ready to go out to the dungeon that night my heart was kinda full of the Cutest Boy at the Party. I was fretting about my crush on him because I knew neither one of us was in a place for too many feelings and had to admit I had the beginnings of them. I also knew that if I let the crush win, there wouldn’t be any more cute boys at all, just the missing of parties. So I put on my favorite black and white striped dress and cute underpants and drove over to the beloved Regular Dungeon. I didn’t know if I was gonna play but I knew I wanted to be surrounded by friends and spanky energy.

(By the way, since it was the weekend after my birthday, my brother had originally offered to fly me up to my sister’s to spend time with her family. I agonized over the two choices, but ultimately decided I’d spent too long using her family as a substitute for making my own. This is my way of making my own family, I think.)

When I walked in the door, the first people I spotted were Pretty Slave and Cute Master, sitting all cute in a row with their date plus their friend that I’d liked from the previous weekend’s party, the lady-sub who was so good at spanking me and whom I shall call Winggirl One--I have a feeling there may be some more Winggirls in my near future. I waved frantic-cheerfully to them across the room as I paid and rushed over as soon as I had my door bracelet on.

“He says I have to kiss you,” said Pretty Slave and I know I balked at that last time but apparently this time I had absolutely no problem with it. Maybe I really am a Girl Gone Wild but more likely, I just like her. Jeez she was so pretty with her collar on and her flowy hair and her being shorter than me so I feel all nice and protective.

I asked Winggirl One if she would beat me up after I had a glass of wine and she agreed. Pretty Slave was all, “Oh, I’ll have to see that,” and I was superhappy at the idea of entertaining her.

Old-Timey Guy and Punk Rock Girl weren’t there yet and it was a little strange focusing on other characters. I was starting to feel like I didn’t need protectors as much as I had before and that was a little sad.

Two bottomy-types trying to work out a spanking scene is pretty funny. I of course wanted to be out in the middle of things to show off but she felt self-conscious about it so we stayed in the bench (regular bench) area to the side of the room. I took off my dress and leggings, left on my purple shiny bra and lacy peach-with-purple-polka-dot underpants.

Winggirl One is about as Amazon-like as me but she has eensy little stingy hands. She hit hard and fast and it was so sweet that she didn’t want to make me uncomfortable by pulling my panties up my ass-crack for better cheek-access. I reached back and helpfully yanked them up for her. Unsurprisingly, I love a good wedgie.

I was kneeling on the bench and bent over a railing. My head was pretty close to some dude’s ears and I apologized but he just decided to become an instigator, egging her on and inspiring me to be louder and louder. Of course I’ll take any excuse. I met other strangers’ faces in the crowd and smiled.

After she was done hitting me, we had a nice long hug and Cute Master (being Cute Master) said “Kiss her!”

“Ohno,” said Winggirl One, “I don’t know how to initiate that.”

“Let me show you,” said Pretty Slave. She got up and gave me a kiss that went all through my body. I lost the self-consciousness of it, pulled her towards me by the waist, ran my hands up the back of her hair, and kissed her like I meant it, and I did.

Winggirl One was still hesitant still so I said “Do you need me to initiate it? Do you like your hair pulled?”

Her face got all lit-up and we practically high-fived for the awesomeness that is hair-pulling. She grabbed the top of the back of my hair, close enough to the scalp but still stingy, pushed me to my knees and put my face on the bench. I just lay there flattened and gasping.

“Wait, what was I doing?” I pulled myself back up, took off her glasses and handed them to Pretty Slave, grabbed the back of WO’s hair and went in hard for the kiss. I hadn’t tasted lipgloss on another girl since high school, and I have to say Katy Perry was not wrong about its appeal.

Then we really DID high-five and Cute Master admonished us for wrecking the hotness. But high-fives are awesome!

Next: There’s a LOT of girl-smell on this bench.