Nowhere to go

*Cross-posted over at The Punishment Book*

I am only recently starting to get back my spanking mojo after an extended hiatus for pregnancy- and postpartum-related issues. Physically I was unable to bend over or absorb heavy blows when my belly got big enough, and then healing from my c-section meant that I was restricted for similar reasons. And emotionally/hormonally, I just wasn't there. Spanking didn't fire me up, intrigue me, or even really occur to me. Every once in a while I would think about it, but more in a passing sense. For a while I was ok with this break: I was exhausted, we had company, and the duties of motherhood and work were far more pressing.

After several months, though, I began to long for that part of myself. I missed the fire, the sparkle, the desire. I wanted to feel like me again. Still, nothing. I worried that motherhood had completely changed me, had replaced those fiery, sassy, desiring parts with nurturing, responsible, mechanical parts.

Then I had to take a two-day trip for work and I arranged to stay with some scene friends who live near the conference site. I got to enjoy a beautiful hour-long spanking that was heavy but didn't push my limits in any uncomfortable ways. It was perfect. It reassured me that I could still take a spanking--it reassured me that I still wanted to be spanked. It gave me a glimpse that I might still be me.

A big part of being me, however, is the punishment part. I am someone who needs to have limits, who wants to be disciplined, who must have a reason to be spanked. It has always frustrated me when I ask, "Why am I getting spanked?" and someone responds, "Because you need it," or just "Because." I've always known that I prefer to have an actual event or behavior that precipitates a spanking (though I can play for fun, it takes a conscious effort for me to put myself in the right frame of mind), but I thought it was because I wanted it to be logical, reasonable, contextual.

I don't misbehave (much) these days, though. I don't have the energy for it and frankly, M doesn't have the energy to punish me for it even when I stick a toenail across the line. We're both tired and I don't want to do something egregious in order to manipulate him into spanking me.

But I still want to be spanked. Which means that I can have spankings that are intense, but have no "reason" behind them. Having experienced a couple of them in the last two months, and finding them strangely lacking, I've given this a bit of thought. I first thought that perhaps my tolerance had dropped after the months-long moratorium on any play whatsoever. And it probably has.

But I've decided that the biggest factor is my brain. When I'm getting spanked, my brain needs a place to go. I can't shut it off: I need to engage it in some way. And punishment gives my brain something to experience while my body experiences the pain. A mental pillow to clutch. A way to make sense of the spanking. A way to transform the suffering into something useful (relaxation, release of emotions or stress, relinquishment of control).

When I'm being spanked hard for no reason, I can sometimes transcend the experience in a similar way, though the conditions are a little different. For those spankings I have to be eased into the intensity: start light, push the limits ever so slightly, back off, push again, back off, and I can eventually get to a place where I'm flying. The effect is then similar to the effects of a punishment, but it takes longer to get there. When it's punishment, when I don't have a choice (or when the agreement is that I've given up my choice), the intensity can start higher sooner because my brain has something to keep it occupied. But when intensity goes up without a reason and my brain is clutching around madly for a handhold (brainhold?), I can't cope as well and the effects aren't the same.

Which means, I guess, that I need spanking to engage all of me--I can't separate from my body and leave my brain with nowhere to go.

Hello, Dolly!

Don't fall out of your seats, either of you who still check this blog. It really is a new post. With a new look.

When I last posted, I didn't know if maternity leave would give me more or less time for posting. Apparently it was the latter. Sorry.

There really wasn't much to report, though. I barely got spanked, barely sassed, barely had room in my brain for spankings, sex, or other fun things from my previous, pre-baby life. Don't get me wrong, I LOVE motherhood. It just...shifts things a little. The lack of sleep, the hormones, the fun side effects of surgery: they all collaborate to make spanking, sex, and fun a little less..well, fun.

In the last two weeks, however, I have been relieved to discover that I haven't lost those parts of me. They're not always accessible or convenient, but they're starting to re-emerge. M has spanked me a couple times. And I got a beautiful, intense, heavy, hour-long spanking when I went to visit some good friends this past week. Canes, hands, straps, floggers, the works. It's prideful, I know, but I'm also relieved that my tolerance hasn't gone away for good. I can still take a hell of a spanking. And quite frankly, I need it.

There are lots of posts about motherhood, spanking, my identity, and other things swirling around in my brain. I can't promise to post them soon, but hope they'll emerge over time.

In the meantime, it's just nice to have my brain and kink back where they belong.

Random Thoughts

I've been a little intimidated by the length of time that's gone by since I last posted, but then I read sparkle's post from yesterday and realized that I could do something similar. So here we go:

-We have a new person in our house! Our son was born three weeks ago, after a fairly good pregnancy and a very complicated delivery. He spent the first few days of his life in the neonatal intensive care unit, but is doing just fine now. M and I are exhausted, but very much in love with him. My mom has been staying with us to help and she's been incredible, but it's still overwhelming.

-Punishment Book is 5 years old. What an amazing forum it has become, thanks in large part to Mija's persistence and leadership, her curiosity and boundless energy. The women she has united as authors are smart, articulate, funny, and creative; I am consistently awed and humbled by their thoughtfulness and intelligence.

-It has been a Long Time since I've been spanked. The last trimester of pregnancy is not terribly conducive to bending over or absorbing blows/spanks/swats of much vigor, and now I'm recovering from a c-section and it seems like it will be a Longer Time until I'm spankable. Someone else got spanked in our house a few days ago and I got to listen (and then see the results), which was lovely. But I miss that part of myself.

-I got a Valentine in the mail from a 6-year-old, with a chocolate heart that said "Hottie." Which kind of made my day, since I'm feeling anything but these days.

Since I'm home on maternity leave now, I may have more time for posting, so you may see more of me. On the other hand, I may have less time--my schedule is no longer my own. But I'm still here, plugging along, thinking about things, and gathering ideas.

Blast from the past

I just posted over at Punishment Book for the first time in a looooong time. Go check it out: Blast from the past.

I Like Canes? (aka, Spanking and the Pregnant Girl)

Who knew?

Well, I sort of knew. I knew that pregnancy could make one feel tired, nauseated, weepy, grumpy, horny, and hungry (sometimes all at once). I knew that pregnancy could radically change one's body type and shape (duh). I even knew that pregnancy hormones could make one's nose run, feet cramp, ankles swell, and hair grow. What I didn't know is that pregnancy could make me like canes.

Over the last five months I've been noting all the different changes in my body, from my suddenly bountiful breasts to my thickening waist and finally protruding belly. I've had little to no interest in spanking, but I attributed that to hormones and a pretty miserable first trimester, so M and I haven't played much for a long time.

When we first started thinking about having a baby, I met with my Ob/Gyn and asked her if it was safe to play while pregnant. She said it was fine as long as I was careful about any direct blows to my abdomen (which isn't really my kink anyway), so I definitely would have felt ok playing, but I didn't have the interest.

Cut to the Shadow Lane party this past weekend. I tend to play very hard, but since I haven't been spanked much lately I didn't know what my tolerance would be like. M and I talked about it and decided it would be easier for me to refrain from playing or only play lightly. Truthfully, I would have been fine to go without playing for the whole party (I've certainly done that before!), but then Bridget asked if she could spank me and I agreed.

We had to figure out a comfortable position for me, since I'm just getting to the point where I can't lie on my belly for too long, so we propped some pillows over the end of the sofa arm in Pablo and Mija's room. Bridget and I have played before, several times, and she knows which heavy strap is my favorite. After a very brief warm-up, she went right for the strap. Which hurt. A lot. At first I chalked it up to my lower pain threshold (getting waxed before the party almost had me in tears), but I still couldn't settle into the pain or relax into the strokes.

Finally, I had to give in. "I think I'm only good for a few more," I said.

Bridget nodded. "Can I give you a couple with the cane?" she asked.

I had to think about this for a moment. Normally I really don't like canes. But Bridget likes using them and I figured it couldn't hurt worse than the strap. Plus, for as much as my bottom was telling me the scene should be over, my head wasn't ready to have it end so quickly. So I agreed.

"Only a couple," I said.

She chose the thickest cane on the table (thoughtfully laid out by Pablo) and gave me one stroke. Not bad.

Another stroke. Still not bad.

Another stroke. Still not bad?

I was starting to realize that rather than tolerating the cane strokes, I was welcoming them. After those first three (interspersed with gentle cane tapping), Bridget dutifully stopped and checked in with me. "You can keep going," I said.

And she did. She tried several different canes on me, varying the intensity and speed--I ate it all up. I was finally getting to that pleasant place in my head, the floaty, warm place where I look forward to the next stroke. Yum...

After a bit, however, I think she got nervous about my sudden affinity for the cane and offered to finish the scene up with a few licks from the strap. I agreed, thinking that I was safe and floaty enough to welcome the familiar heavy thud. But it was horrible: sharp, biting, jarring. I found myself clenching my stomach muscles as I tensed for the next blow. She only gave me a handful of strokes with the strap, but I had to stop her quickly and ask for a few more cane strokes to finish.

I am more puzzled by this turn of events than any other single event, craving, feeling, or experience in my pregnancy thus far. Wine smells like paint thinner, pork makes me want to throw up, TV commercials make me cry, and canes make me purr.

Weird.

Vignettes

Uhhh, sorry I've been gone for a while, guys. It's been pretty rough around here lately, which means that M has been focused on taking care of me in gentler ways than average.

But that doesn't mean that nothing goes on around here...

So here are a few vignettes from our life, with my apologies for the delay.

***
Last month, M and I went with a friend of ours to see Vivaldi's Motezuma. It was my first opera and it was beautiful, but all I could focus on was the spanking. No, not real spanking, darn it. But the main characters kept prancing around the stage with "weapons" that were supposed to be some kind of Aztec throwback but were actually giant paddles. Seriously, my friends. Giant paddles. And the father figure threatened his daughter with the paddle if she didn't do what he wanted. (He was really threatening her with death, but whatever. Spanking, death. You know.) It was wonderful.

***
This weekend we went hiking in Yosemite National Park, which was amazing. At the end of one of our hikes, we came back to the trailhead and saw a small knot of people standing there. Two vanilla acquaintances hushed us as we greeted them and said, "Shhhhh, there's a bear over there." Hey, don't look at me! I was good! I stood at a respectful, safe, appropriate distance from the bear and tried to take a picture with the zoom. Which wasn't very good, but I was prepared to be satisfied with that. Until the girl turned to her boyfriend and said, "Watch the backpack. I'm going to go closer and try to get a better picture." He said, "No. It's not safe." And she ignored him. [grin] Being the responsible, good girl that I am, I turned to M and said, "Is it ok if I just go over there behind that big rock and try to get a better picture, as long as I stay there and don't bug the bear?" And he said, "Yes." So I did. And I stayed put and stayed respectful to the bear. But our vanilla friend, who joined me, was clearly in defiance of her boyfriend. The poor guy was clearly not toppy enough to stop her (since he thought it was too dangerous), so even though she and I both made it back completely safely, M and I had a lot of fun thinking about how our kind would have handled her defiance.

***

Miss Lily managed to get herself a sunburn last week, which is something she (and possibly someone else in the household) has been spanked for before. So she got spanked again and I got to watch. It was lovely... M spanked her hard, but not too hard (pout)--she has such a lovely bottom and it's even lovelier when it's pink.

***

I was given a reading assignment over the weekend, to read X pages of a book M bought for me about grad schools. Like a good girl I finished the reading, but you should have heard his dire threats, whispered in my ear: "If you don't read all those pages, I'm going to spank you every night for a week. And I'm not going to go lightly on you just because you're sore. I'm going to hairbrush your bottom very hard every night, little girl." [shiver, yum]

Broken

I wish I were writing a post about all my glorious exploits from Shadow Lane and Las Vegas. I wish I had some exploits to write about. But I spent the entire weekend in my hotel room and I didn't play once, not even with M. Not once. And it sucked. I ventured out for the vendors' fair on Friday, the dinner on Saturday, and a lunch on Sunday: about an hour per day. Other than that I was stuck in our room, sick. I am really, really tired of being sick. It's ruining important events and getting in the way of my life, damn it.

I know I'm whining. I know lots of people who wanted to go to Vegas and couldn't go at all. I know lots of people who struggle with chronic illnesses far worse than mine. I am grateful for the loving support of my friends and my wonderful husband. Truly. But it still sucks to feel broken all the time.

The Twilight of my Days

Sorry I've been so quiet lately. I've been struggling with some health things that are screwing up daily life, work, and other plans, so there hasn't been much time for posting. And though you'd *think* that would mean a halt to all things spanking in the house, it's been quite the opposite: M has taken to spanking me daily. I think it's his way of trying to make me feel more secure and loved in the midst of confusion and chaos. Which is a pretty good approach, actually.

But the real topic of this post is Twilight. When I first posted about the Twilight series, I had no idea what I was starting. Do you know that if you Google "Twilight spanking fanfic" that this blog comes up #4? "Edward spanking Bella" earns me #3. And a full third of the people who found me via search terms on the web came through some combination of "Edward," "Bella," "spanking," "Twilight," and "fanfiction."

Which means there is a serious dearth of Twilight fanfiction out there, people! I haven't written any: I've only written about my desire to read some. I shouldn't be famous for this! (No comments about what I *should* be famous for, thank you very much.) Get going!

Obsession

It started innocently enough.

I needed something to read on the honeymoon and hadn't packed any books before leaving Los Angeles. So in the airport on the first leg of the honeymoon trip, we stopped in Borders so I could browse and find something interesting. Half an hour later, M had three books picked out and I was still dithering. I wanted something light and amusing, but not so light that I would devour the entire thing before landing in St. Lucia.

Finally, at Mark's insistence, I settled on The Other Boleyn Girl and The Little Lady Agency.

Oh, and this book:



Oh.

My.

God.

I had no idea what I was buying. I had some vague notion that it was coming out as a movie and I saw someone reading it at the place I go to get waxed. But I didn't know it was about vampires and love and desire. Didn't know that it has a screaming teenage girl fan base. Didn't know that said movie would gross over $70 million in the first weekend.

I didn't know it was so ridiculously hot.

I was panting with desire at parts of the book, so unbearably turned on that I wanted to close the book and tackle M, but so hooked in that I couldn't stand to be separated from the story.

I finished the entire damn thing on the plane and in the hotel in Miami (our layover). The next day, I told M that we weren't flying anywhere until I got the other books in the series. This is no small commitment, since there are four books in the series. Each is about three inches thick. The last two only come in hardcover. And I didn't care: I had to finish them.



Now, I've never been a vampire lit fan. I've never read any of Anne Rice's stuff, never really found vampires sexy or alluring. But this little series has converted me. The funny thing is that there's almost nothing overtly sexual about the romance between Bella and Edward. For the first three books it's almost platonic: he won't kiss her and he flat out refuses to have sex with her. She pines and lusts for him (in subtle language that skirts the issue), but nothing happens. From all the reviews I've read, this point makes the series especially popular with mothers of teenagers, who want the abstinence message to come across loud and clear.

Yet even with all the innuendo and subtlety and non-action, these books are HOT. Edward is solicitous of Bella, but glowers when she is unsafe and scolds her soundly when she puts herself in danger. Delicious. There are scenes in all four books that just beg to be extended, for Edward to put Bella over his knee and spank her soundly. She is feisty, but also submissive. Delicious.

If you're wondering, yes, it was the perfect reading material for our honeymoon. The fires burned long and bright and hot.

And I don't care if I have the same taste in literature as a 13-year-old.

Post-Wedding Bliss

Hi everyone!

We're back. We're tired, jet-lagged, not ready for work tomorrow, and still reeling from the whirlwind of activities, but we're back. In a nutshell: The wedding was gorgeous and went off with no major catastrophes and plenty of lovely memories. The honeymoon in St. Lucia was an adventure, though also romantic and beautiful. The California reception yesterday was festive and fun with people we didn't see at the wedding.

I managed to be married for almost a full week before earning my first hairbrushing. :-) I'll spare you the gory details, but suffice to say that the St. Lucian sun is a bit stronger than I thought.

Thank you for all the good wishes and notes over the last month. The experience has been wonderful, but we are more than content to settle into married life without the extra drama of wedding-, travel-, and reception-planning. I'm especially looking forward to getting back into online life and having the time to read blogs and post here.

Pre-Wedded Bliss

I wish I had lots of kinky things to report from our household. After all, we are a young, healthy, kinky, soon-to-be-wed couple with a kinky girlfriend. We should be reveling in the excitement and love bubble, but instead we're caught between the extremely mundane (work, housecleaning, daily meal preparation, family obligations) and the temporarily insane (thank you notes, last minute decisions, tuxedo comparisons, floral options, indecisive guests). All of which conspire to divert our attention from each other and, ahem, more interesting pursuits. We've managed to entertain ourselves and stay connected, but there's been no interesting misbehavior on which to report. No sexy romps or spankings. No serious strappings or hairbrushings or paddlings. A few smacks here and there, but nothing blog-worthy.

I'm sorry, my friends. I don't expect you'll hear much from me in the next couple months. The glorious date is November 8th, and I'll be pretty busy from now until then. We arrive back from the honeymoon about 36 hours before our California reception, the Saturday before Thanksgiving. But rest assured, as soon as I'm feeling back in form I'll do something spunky and sassy and bratty and we'll be back in business. :-)

Go!

Advice, Please

Thank you all for the wonderful marriage/sex/kinky advice. I'm sure we'll, um, use all of your suggestions in one way or another. :-)

Anyway, I need help on a more serious front. M and I have a dear friend who has agreed to be our iPod DJ for the reception, but I have to help her make up the playlist. I'm seeking ideas for the dinner playlist and the after-dinner-dancing playlist. Dinner music will be Michael Buble/ Frank Sinatra/ jazzy-ish. After dinner, anything goes.

We need to fill up several hours with music, so I'd appreciate any and all ideas. sparkle suggested that we take our top ten or twenty favorites and make them into an iTunes playlist, so maybe we can do that.

The Fickle Blogger

It would be totally unacceptable for an entire month to go by without a post. So, um, even though it's been a full month since I last posted, I'm going to register at least one post for the month of August.

Sigh.

It's not that life has been hard. Just full.

Full mostly of wedding and work and life. M and I spent one full weekend at a premarital counseling event alternately referred to as "Jesus Camp" (though most of it was truly wonderful). We've been trying to be intentional about spending time with each other, even when I chose to work 12 days in a row and made myself sick, even when work for him is stressful off the charts, even when we're working on getting 70 wedding invitations assembled and mailed on top of the 100 California reception invitations printed and mailed. Yeah, life's been busy.

We've found some time for spanking. I'm really not stressed about the wedding or the preparations--I've chosen Flexibility as a spiritual discipline and I'm not letting myself be overworked about any single wedding issue. Wrong return address on the invitations? Who cares? Too many decisions to fit in a single day? Take one at a time. I'm proud of how I'm handling each individual thing. But the cumulative weight of it all is starting to get to me. (It doesn't help that I'm also trying to compile a voluminous file for professional certification at the same time.) So I've been spanked for general stress levels and for that ultimate sin, Not Taking Care of Myself. Which seems like a highly overrated value right now, if you ask me. But nothing serious.

At this moment, M is in Las Vegas for the Shadow Lane party; I'll follow tomorrow night. M, Chris, sparkle, and I have gotten a suite for this party: a new thing for all of us and something we've wanted to try. Sparkle has something fun planned for Sunday afternoon (I'm sure we'll fill you in upon our return). And I am trying to pack, clean our apartment for unexpected company that will stay here while we're gone, and get in as much relaxing as possible. Shadow Lane is lots of fun and it will be wonderful to see friends, but it's not what I'd call a real vacation. Too much to focus on, too many people around, and too much to do/see.

Friends, forgive me. I'm tired and a bit overwhelmed. I truly am looking forward to the weekend and despite my complaints, I truly am doing well. Life is very, very good. I am deeply in love with the man I am going to marry and I am lucky to be planning our wedding. Hopefully, the next time I post it will be with something interesting and something kinky.

Happy Birthday, sparkle!

I know I've been delinquent in posting lately, but this is important.

It's sparkle's birthday!

Even though she's been sick lately. Even though she's been strapped in mean places lately.

Happy birthday, dear one! May your celebration be loud, long, and lusty. ;-)

A Cure for the Common What?

If you're itching to know the resolution to last Friday's injunction--join the crowd.

;-)

The perfect, storybook ending to this story would be this:

M came home on Sunday night to find me sprawled on the bed in my sexiest lingerie. He took one look at me, growled, and then fucked me till we were both sore and exhausted. (Oh, and in this dream, he isn't tired, sore, or smelly from hiking for two days straight.)

But the real story goes like this:

On Thursday I started with a headache in the back of my head.

On Friday it came back, just a little. And then M forbade me from orgasming for at least two days.

On Saturday night it came back with a vengeance (and a special little twist).

On Sunday, I started my period and there was a crazy mudslide on the the ONE road back from the mountain M was hiking. My headache returned in the evening and M didn't get back until 2 a.m.

On Monday, I went to work and left early because my headache was creeping back in. Monday night we had dinner with family.

This morning (Tuesday), I opened my eyes with my alarm, realized that the headache was still f*&#ing with me, and cursed.

Then I rolled over and started kissing M's neck. Fortunately, he's fairly persuade-able, even when tired, so he was amenable to suggestions.

We had lovely, lovely sex, even if it wasn't the thunder-crashing, apocalyptic sex of the fantasy.

I got up and showered. M went back to sleep.

My headache was 100% gone by the end of my shower. And hasn't returned all day.

I don't know whether to tout this as a cure for migraines or conceal it from M. He's either going to want to fuck every time I have a headache or he's never going to do the insanely hot orgasm-injunction again. I'm kind of stuck.

Although thoroughly enjoying myself. Grin.

48 Hours

I'm sorry. I know you're waiting for the follow-up to yesterday's post. And it's half-written. But something new has cropped up and it takes precedence.

There's no way to tell this story but down and dirty:

I am sore from last night's spanking. Really, really sore.

M is leaving for two days of hiking. Tonight.

He was mostly distracted while packing and getting ready--until just before he left.

He grabbed my incredibly sore bottom and twisted. Then pulled me over his lap and spanked me HARD.

Then gave me a rule for tonight: at least one hour of work on my project before I go to sleep. Or else I get woken up Sunday night and strapped hard with the horrible plastic-y strap from Cody and Nisha.

I helped him carry things to his car in the garage. He grabbed a handful of my hair, pulled me up tight against him, kissed me passionately, and informed me that I am not allowed to orgasm for the next two days.

WTF?!?!

Not at all. I am not allowed to come until he's home and fucks me. If I come at all in the next two days I will not be allowed to come for a week--

WTF?!?!?!

--and I'll be strapped hard every night of that week.

O.

M.

G.

And then he left. Kissed me hard and pulled out of the garage.

I was so turned on.

And then he came back.

He'd forgotten his fishing rod. Looked inside the carrier and found four canes. As a testament to how turned on I was, I bent over and invited him to try them on my (have I mentioned?) incredibly sore bottom.

He did.

I squealed.

He grabbed a fistful of my hair, pushed me into the wall, grabbed my pussy, and we made out like horny teenagers.

But I didn't come.

I was literally panting and moaning. Close to begging.

He said, "You may need a cold shower in order to get your work done."

And before I knew it, he tugged me in the bathroom, stripped me, turned on the cold water, and literally shoved me into the shower.

Not just into the water a little.

He pushed me into the water, then he pushed my head (my hair!) under the stream, then pulled me back so that my face got wet too.

Then he pulled my head out of the water, kissed me hard, and said, "I'll see you in two days. Be good."

I stood there, spluttering and shivering (from cold and turned-on-ed-ness) before turning on the warm water and watching it run off my rock-hard nipples in sheer frustration.

That may have been the single sexiest, single most frustrating encounter of my life.

I better get to work on my project.

I'm so gonna need another shower.

I Admit It

I so want an ass like these women.

Sigh.

So much.

Would you please buy me WHAT?

A quick check in. No, we're not maimed or dead. Or sick. Or even on a spanking break. We're just living.

We had a FABULOUS time at the Florida Moonshine party at the beginning of the month.

Chris and sparkle were here last night and we had a delightful time with them. (I even got a good girl spanking!)

I've been mostly well-behaved lately.

And today I asked M to buy me a hairbrush.

No, seriously.

I even spent five minutes with him on the phone while he wandered around Target looking for the right one.

Sigh.

No worries, my friends. We have enough damn heavy wooden, flat-backed ones in our house. This one was a round brush, to be used strictly for drying Iris' hair.

Fun with Text Messages

Did you ever notice how sometimes one simple phrase leads to a whole other conversation? And how those other conversations often lead to someone getting spanked? I had two of those last night.

Grin.

The first one was with Chris; he reported on the events fairly accurately here, so I won't reiterate them. But I did have a hunch that texting a fireman about a potential fire hazard in my bed might get a reaction.

The second one happened over the course of the evening. M had a meeting last night, so he set the Tivo to record the Lakers-Spurs game. Before he left I said, "I'm going to watch the game. Do you want me to text you periodic updates?" Being the diehard fan he is, he answered in the negative, rather emphatically. About half an hour later I texted him and said, "The Spurs are up by 80 at the end of the first quarter!" He texted back a raspberry. And that was all in good fun.

Fast forward to the fourth quarter of a very exciting game. I was chatting online with a vanilla friend of ours and mentioned that I'd teased M about the score--and that I thought he should do the same. A few minutes later he wrote, "Just sent the text." And we pretty much left it at that. M's meeting went really late and by the time he got home I was half-asleep. The conversation went something like this:

M: Are you asleep, love?
I: Mmmphgf.
M: Ohhh, I'm so tired!
I: I'm sorry, sweetie. Wanna snuggle?
M (climbing into bed): I actually want to watch the game.
I: OK, baby.
M: S wrecked it for me, though. He sent me a text that said, "Bummer about the Lakers."
I: [snort of repressed laughter]
M: What?
I: [snort of less repressed laughter]
M: What?
I: I told him to do that.
M (leaping out of bed): What?!
I (squealing and flipping onto my back): No, no, no!
M: You're going to be saying that more in a minute!
I: Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow ... ow! (You get the point.)

We were both laughing, though he spanked me really hard with his hand and the hairbrush from my nightstand. :-( I fell asleep happy. And he did too: the Lakers won.