Saturday, May 4, 2019

Bamboo Switches; Curiosity becomes Cravings

"You're going to get spanked at the hotel," Eric stated threateningly (reassuringly?) on the phone the day before I was heading to the airport. "We just need to figure out what will be somewhat silent."

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I pointed out that Ronnie sells canes, travel canes to be precise, and the fact that though we'd discussed it for years, Eric had never issued the green light to place an order.   We'd used a blind wand and a stick from one of our hikes but I still wondered what an actual caning would feel like.

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Eric does not like to disappoint and when I come clean about a curiosity, he aims to please. Yes, my man walked into the hotel room carrying two, three foot, bamboo switches.  Resourceful? Frighteningly so.

The time came.  "I wanted to put you over my knee, Amy Lynn," he began, "but the rooms on either side of us have people in them so we're going to have to try something else."

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Eric told me to undress and stand against the wall near a tall brass lamp.  My hands placed on the beige nondescript plaster, he raised the bamboo and mentioned something about ending a pattern of self doubt before letting it swing through the air.

I heard a swoosh and then the thin bamboo landed squarely across both cheeks.  Searing.  That's the best way to describe it. Searing pain that caused me to leap from my position, grab my bottom, and double over on the bed.

"Oh geez," Eric exclaimed coming over to apologetically rub the pain away.

"It still hurts," I moaned, the burning sensation widening like a band of wasps stinging their way across my ass.  As time clicked by, the sharpness subsided and the trillion thoughts that constantly spin around in my head suddenly shut off, took a break, relaxed, and settled down. Peace and quiet between my ears.

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I looked into Eric's worried eyes and pounced; lips on his mouth, hips on his lap, hands running through his hair while my body became a sexual fire cracker. Without the distraction of the outside world, voices from the past, lists of responsibilities and fears, all I could see was him. He was hot, delicious, sexy, and mine. I wanted to crawl inside of him, feel him inside of me, become one person.

Later, after, we lay in each other's arms and talked about the wild extremes brought on by just one swat of the bamboo.

"I always wondered what that would feel like," I admitted again to my husband, "and I hated it, every second of it, HATED."

He listened intently, though exhausted from the unbelievable passion we had just shared.

"Afterwards," I continued, "the relief, the freedom, the overwhelming desire... I want more.  I need it, honey.  I crave it."

We slept hard that night.  Knocked out.

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Sunday, I had to board a plane and say good-bye for one more month.  Rode hard and put away wet does not even begin to describe the three days of incredible hotel sex, love, and play that we shared.  Everything packed away, Eric picked up the bamboo one more time and wearing nothing but his blue jeans, warned me to behave until he got home "or else".  Then he swished that stick through the air three times as though he were punishing me, a stern look on his face displaying the seriousness of the threat.

Eric put the bamboo down and smiled.  "I want to see my heart one more time," he said and I grinned, dropping my pants to the floor.  I ran to the bathroom, grabbed a small washcloth, shoved it between my teeth, and then presented my bottom to him by lying across the bed.

"I love that tattoo," he said moving in and kissing the small red heart with his lips.  "Now hold still," he warned.  "This is going to be a quick five for you to think about on the plane ride home."

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I bit down on the towel and closed my eyes, determined to stay put.

Whoosh. Strike. Whoosh. Strike. Whoosh. Strike. Strike. Strike.

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I flipped over, brain clear and the fire ignited inside my body once more.  Eric leaned in between my legs and rather than yell out from that searing pain, I kissed him deeply, fully, passionately.  His jeans hit the floor and we shared one last round, with welted cheeks and a wet squishy peach. That was our farewell.

When we started this lifestyle, Eric assured me he would never leave a mark. Sunday I left my love with five beautiful streaks of red placed lovingly on my ass just below his heart tattoo.  People may never understand ttwd but for us, it works. One week later, the clearing of my head and the searing of our love, on my skin is holding strong... 27 days to go.

Amy

13 comments:

  1. Hi Amy,

    Wow! That was certainly some three days together! So happy you had the chance to have this amazing reconnection. You are definitely brave with the cane!

    Hope the 27 days go quickly.

    Hugs
    Roz

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    1. Hey Roz, They are flying by. I think we both had such a grand time over the weekend, it's easy to just dance along the countdown. Good times! Many more to come. :)
      Amy

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  2. It is definitely a love-hate relationship with canes for me ( B has never played lightly with any he owns). During I absolutely LOATHE being caned, but the after effects are worth it-- I guess. Of course it's been a while so I reserve the right to come back and say I'm insane! (Note to Eric, if you ever find she's getting used to it, do the 'fence' thing as my friend refers to it- lay down your stripes and then lay a few across them. What Amy, you know you are curious...LMAO).

    So great to hear/read you made the most of your time away. Watch out now, those guys who swear they never want to leave a mark can turn into those guys who LOVE leaving marks...LOL..

    willie

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    1. WILMA! Really?! FENCING?! Granted, I am the curious kind and Eric has totally become "that guy" but what have you set me up for?! JK... now I'm curious about the old criss cross thing you're suggesting. Bring it on! Gently... carefully.... lightly. LOL I'm such a wimp.
      Amy

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  3. Yes, canes are thankfully pretty quiet. Another favorite for hotel sex is the Loopy Johnny. I like the washcloth in the mouth idea. I will have to remember that one.

    Glad you had such a glorious time with your husband. You can do this last month just recalling all those good times.

    Hugs From Ella

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    1. Hi Ella,
      We do not, with a huge chest full of toys and implements, have a Loopy Johnny. Washcloth = helpful. Much more comfortable than a ball gag which looks hot but just makes me want to ball; I mean, gag. Ha!
      Amy

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  4. Wow, not only was that incredibly hot, but marks like that are so lovely... and you'll hold that memory for a long time.

    And...
    Um.....

    Don't be surprised if you find yourself a bit out of sorts and down in a few days. Subdrop is a real thing. It passes though. <3 <3

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    1. I know what you mean about the down days following amazing sex and play but this time it didn't happen. Too excited that he's finally going to be home for a long period of time. Summer is going to be fabulous!
      Amy

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  5. Yay for all the fun you had in the Big Apple, Amy ... I think maybe I'd be willing to try a 'real' cane one day (Ronnie, get your order book out :>)) but those bamboo switches ... yikes! ... we have a little tomato stake one I've nicknamed the whippersnapper ... and I agree it stings - as you said ... like your ass was stung by a whole nest of wasps! ...

    Happy for you had this special time with Eric and you got a few days of memories to take home with you ... hugs! ... nj

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    1. Wasps - exactly... but quiet ones. Okay Ronnie, get NJ and me on your delivery list. We've got some exploration to do. :)
      Amy

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  6. Amy, so glad you got this loving interlude with Eric in New York. You were brave to take the cane!
    Rosie xx

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    1. What do they say, Rosie? Curiosity killed the cat? Uh huh. I'd me the cat in this scenario. :)
      Amy

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  7. Well done to you Amy for taking the cane. Kooboo to me is better than bamboo more flexible, Yep we have travel canes, Loopy Johnny and a braided Loopy Johnny all quite:)

    So happy you had special time with your man.

    Love,
    Ronnie
    xx

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