And now for something completely different.

Kara's birthday spankings.

She was already under the blankets, casually reading an erotic novel from my bedroom bookcase as I came in from work. I enjoy it when she lets herself in. She looked to me with a smile as I came upstairs, and the smile remained as I slowly stripped before her to get into the shower.

The day before, we strolled on Yonge Street to enjoy some birthday shopping. (Yeah. I'm a guy. And I shop. Deal with it.) At Northbound, we picked up a sharp black PVC evening gown and charming black satin corset, and later found some racy shoes to match both. Gradually, my little spitfire is creating quite the fetish collection, which is as it should be if she's going to drape her arm (or lap) over mine at deliciously sinful venues.

I had already given her a large box from Jacob the week before that contained a very sheer black sweater, a satin miniskirt and a shimmering bra and panty set. The metallic studs on the black and purple bra could easily be seen through the thin sweater, giving Kara an excellent dancefloor look. Our mission for the evening was to visit the store again and confirm my sizing choices, since we wanted her to be completely comfortable during the coming playparty before her impending fate made her completely uncomfortable.

Anticipation had been building up for weeks: Kara was to experience her first public birthday spanking session, and she had been left a-quiver as she waited for me in my bed. It had been at least two years since I last had the pleasure of administering birthday spankings with a lover, and so I thoroughly was enjoying seeing my waif whimper and whine for a while. She's so cute.

Despite how striking and precious the PVC is, she opted for the Jacob ensemble for the evening's play. Its miniskirt and panties would certainly make for easier access and more subby-appropriate vibe for what diabolical plans lay ahead of her. She had already taken it upon herself to polish the linked steel ringlets that adorn one of my favourite leather collars, and this fit charmingly around her throat to shower her upper chest with diamond-like glitterance.

Red attire was the theme for tonight's playparty, which I met with a sensual scarlet shirt under my leather officer's cap. Kara's contribution to redness would soon be her blistering, tight, naked and pert little ass.



Hands down, Goodhandy's is the most cosmopolitan venue I've ever been to. "Toronto's Pansexual Playground" is foremost a den for the local queer community, but is so adventurously openminded that people from any orientation or interest can and does taste its forbidden fruits and all in complete harmony with one another.

It was Dancing Nazi who first caught my eye as we entered the club. A buff dude grooving to DJ Jimi Lamort's tunage with his nearly naked partner, his Nazi replica uniform bugged me. Not because of what it was, mind you, but because the history buff in me was peturbed that he had mixed his insignia all wrong. Go figure.

And how often does one have the opportunity in life to watch a Nazi... dancing? Life can be so weird.

Leave it to Kara to steer my attention toward more topical eye candy. Nursing our ciders, we drooled at th sight of a sensual lioness n the dancefloor, a lithe and bald woman in a PVC gown very alike that which Kara chose not to wear for the evening. Alone, she swayed fluidly on the floor, and heartily beamed when we later shared how much we had enjoyed watching her.

Another couple, a plump Asian woman with a very athletic grunge blonde, kissed sensually as they swayed. Multiple couples of muscular men gyrated and filled the house with laughter. T-girls shuffled about in perfumed packs, eyeing one another enviously and each striving to command as much ambient space as possible. Kara and me took it all in, whispering to each other joyfully as we drank and moved to the tunes.

Until it was time.

I took her hand and led her upstairs to the play area. A blonde twink tended bar (yes, a 'drink twink'...) there, around whom a few voyeuristic dudes watched the dancing below from the balcony. A robust, mulatto woman with long, golden dreadlocks was receiving a light whipping on her naked ass by a muscular dark black dude as she rested on all fours on a table. A lesbian couple relaxed with their drinks in an alcove. Numerous individual men, gay and not-so-gay, enjoyed the action.

I made our way for a reasonably empty spot near the other end of the balcony where an unused spanking bench sat lonely and isolated. It wasn't very long before Goldielocks' nearby flogging came to an end and the area began to clear of most of the voyeurs. Once the space opened some, I commandeered it by turning the lonely spanking bench into a position that suited me, with its upper tier facing what I knew would become new voyeur space and its rear close to the back wall but allowing me plenty of safe movement room. The area was dim, with the blended scent of cologne, bodies, and drinks. Shafts of light from nearby spotlights in the rafters beamed down to the dancefloor but yielded an ambient glow to the area. The thumping thunder from the DJ's work below pulsated through the floor.

I sat Kara down on the bench as I lay my bag of tricks on a shelf that ran along the back wall, moving some candles and empty beer bottles. I went to Drink Twink for some ice, and he looked at me with that slight sneer that gay boys are wont to do when they feel like being judgmental, but his attitude cleared up rightquick when it dawned on wee li'l him that he was being addressed by a Top that wasn't just looking for free fucking ice.

I stood before Kara and held her head in my hands, giving her a slow and wet kiss.

"How do you feel?"

She smiled.

I grasped the short, dark hair at the nape of her neck and slowly pulled her around and upward until she was in position, on her hands and knees on the two-tiered spanking table. I rested her forehead all the way down to the polished wood before turning away to stand behind her and near my bag on the shelf. Leaving her there untouched, I knew the voyeurs would begin to gather around again as I set my toys in a neat little row along the shelf while my back was to her. By the time I turned around, a gathering had come but nicely remained at a respectably workable distance. Among them was Goldielocks.

I didn't waste time. After a few gentle shoulder rubs, I went for Kara's backseat jugular and hoisted her hem up and over her pert heiney. Her panties framed her most nicely, and with only the minimal amount of warm-up, I began an openhanded assault on her delicious little ass. I wanted her to see stars. I wanted her to twitch and yelp aloud. I wanted her writhing and her face looking at me from over her shoulder with a shocked and embarassed expression, wide-eyed and stunned, as she received her birthday spanking. I wanted her to thoroughly entertain every hungry pair of eyes, male and female, gay and straight alike, with her public punishment.

And I got what I wanted.

I had count aloud, marking each of her years with every spank. Of course though, my memory lapsed from time to time... seventeen does come after thirty-two, right? Oh well. Damn that grade school I went to. Better start over.

Kara's ass was bare and red and glowing by the time I paused long enough to slip some ice into her mouth. She was panting yet breathless, her face even redder than her posterior as she strained to keep her forehead against the wood. She looked at me pleadingly.

"Are you alright?" I smirked.

She nodded slowly, blinked, panted some more, and gratefully swallowed the water that melted along her tongue.

Behind her again, and now I pressed against her lower back to guide herhips even closer to the edge of the upper tier to the bench. This raised her butt even higher, giving her lithe body a pretty but uncomfortable S-curve. By now her bare knees were feeling the wood too.

I drank a swig of my cider, and looked around me. Some looked right back, smiling and nodding most approvingly. Others couldn't take their eyes off of my pet. One man sat nearby, slowly stroking his cock. One of the lesbians gently played with her partner's earlobe as they watched.

I retrieved one of my slappers and began giving my pet a series of loud, cracking smacks on her raised behind. Kara wiggled and squirmed, especially when I used my other hand to hold the crotch of her panties and tug them upward to apply pressure to her swelling and drenched clit. I rained punishment along her thighs, which sent her into jolts. I held her head up by tugging her hair, forcing her to look at the crowd which so enjoyed seeing her suffer.

"I love you. Are you having fun?"

She smiled and nodded. "I love you too."

I paused. "Do you trust me?"

"Yes."

I smiled and returned to my cider. I took a long look at Kara's glowing ass, round and red but still somehow ready for more. I turned to one of the lesbians who had moved closer to me.

"Hi," I said. "So, it's her birthday... would you like to help me out?"

One of the things I learned when I was bouncing and supervising playparty scenes back in my pro-dom days was how to raise the bar of fun in a safe, well-considered way. If you're going to seek "audience participation," it's healthy and wise to know how to read body language and observe that someone understands a sense of protocol. If a Top is going to offer the utmost in generosity and actually offer his or her pet to a stranger, intuition and resilient observation is vital.

But this woman only blushed and stammered, smiling in her quiet and polite refusal. Oops: I had picked a submissive. Still, it was adorably cute. But I was undeterred and wanted a sharing. Somehw I knew I wouldn't be turned down again if I sought a guy. Call it a wild guess.

Greek Guy looked presentable and intelligent, and he had been enraptured with my handiwork. When approached, he almost came in his pants at the opportunity to participate, and I gave him a crash course in certain ground rules before squatting down near Kara's head. I gave her a sip of cider and more ice. Her ass remained high in the air. Caressing Kara's head, I kept a watch on Greek Guy as he stood behind my pet and began with a series of very light spanks.

He had a (shall we say) interesting technique, beginning with a rapid fluttering of his outstretched fingertips that only barely met her skin. Her firm ass jiggled slightly under each series of rapid butterfly swats, which he would then finish off with only a moderate final smack. He was completely enjoying and behaving himself, but for Kara this treatment was a cool-down. Not entirely a bad thing, but not where I wanted to take her yet.

(Later, Kara and I would call this the "good kitty" technique, and mimicked it while rapidly patting one of her cats on its head. "Goodkittygoodkitty...")

It was Goldielocks who helped me make the evening. Even though I had seen her on the receiving end of a lash, somehow my instinct told me that she was an experienced, sex-positive switch. I was right: she positively beamed when she was invited to help me wish Kara her happy birthday.

Goldielocks was an earth mother. Those long, golden dreads rained down her light brown back like a lioness' mane, and her eyes shimmered with sharpness and wit. Buxom and broadshouldered, I could easily see her gyrating with thunderous feet around a bonfire as djembe players resounded on a lakefront beachhead. I could see her smoking cigars. I could see her downing whiskey. She resonated with fun. I liked her instantly.

I gave Kara a break and let her kneel up, sip some more cider. I introduced them.

"How shall she address you?" I asked Goldielocks. "Ma'am... or Sir?"

She chuckled deeply. "Sir."

Smiling, I looked down to Kara and back to Goldielocks. "Have fun." I walked aside and leaned against the back shelf, confident my pet was in good hands.

And she was. Goldielocks' hands were soon all over Kara, caressing and stroking and teasing her little faerie titties. Kara was in bliss, like a little domestic kitten caught by some wild mother tigress, and soon found herself back in position as her new friend had her way. The nearby lesbian couple sat up with rapt attention. Submissive girl practically drooled. The crowd of men doubled, and soon I was standing to maintain acceptable distance as I supervised what went on and guaranteed my lover her safety. With eye contact and the occasional ear whisper, Goldilocks and I handled the scene as though we had been partners for years, keeping it smooth and safe and fun. It was a treat.

Goldielocks spanked Kara's smart little ass to a glowing amber, and it glowed even under the red spotlighting. Each swat was decisive and true, and my poor little dear cried out with whimpering, gasping breaths. Her ass was squeezed. Her ass was gently punched, with Goldielocks smacking her bum with enclosed fists that would tenderize a slab of beef. We flogged her. We caressed her. We made Kara a shared little public playtoy, and when all was done, Kara was a puddle of living goo.

Goldielocks and I shook hands.

"We really need to do this again."

... and eating her too.

She had had a rough day, and so it began with a bath.

I caressed her hair as we talked, soothing her shoulders with drizzles of hot water as she told me of the trials in her day. Being a scrappy rake, a well-dressed rascal, or a nasty-ass leatherdaddy certainly doesn't prevent me from my moments of indulgent adoration and pampering. She is, after all, my pleasure. I watched contentedly as I dropped the bath bomb between her ankles as she sunk deeply into the antique claw-foot tub. For all the times I had given them as gifts, I had never actually seen one in action, and I smiled as the roiling scented froth filled the steaming water with her.



Later, naked, I stood in her kitchen and drizzled a swirl of organic chocolate sauce on the pottery plate. Setting a slice of vegan chocolate layer cake upon it, I flanked this sexy creation with four slices of fresh, ripe blackberries and made my barefoot way up the white stairwell to her bedroom.

I really have no idea where Cake and Cunnilingus Day came from, but when I happened upon its site during a casual netsurfing moment, I knew it was something I had to indulge Kara in.

She smiled at me from over her Laurel K. Hamilton novel, and her eyes popped open when she saw the cake in my hands.

"OoOOOOooo..." she cooed, holding her hands out eagerly for her treat, batting her eyes in oh-so-(not)-innocent fashion. The four layers of dark cake, fused by the rich and near-black icing, slid along the tip of the silver fork as she tried her first mouthful and held it on her tongue. Her eyes closed, her chest heaved with indrawn breath, and she chuckled very quietly as I drew the thick duvet from over her body and slid into bed with her.

Mammoth pillows firmly supported her back as she sat semi-upright in the bed, and my knees met her feet as I lay atop of her. I cradled her hips in my warm hands and began nuzzling into her taut belly as she slowly took another mouthful of decadence.

Pressing my lips to her soothed skin, I nibbled along her hips and thighs as I reached around her to caress her lower back from over her pillows. We each languished in our respective feasts for the senses as we relaxed. She nibbled on a blackberry, the juice staining her lips. I nibbled at her navel. She licked her fingers. I licked her thighs.

I smirked as I looked up, and with a teasingly small drizzle of chocolate sauce staining her lips, she smirked back. I leaned upward for a long, sensual kiss, tasting both sauce and flesh, before I bit my own lower lip as I started to part her thighs with a taunting finger. She chuckled as she opened her legs further, and soon I was breathing deeply in and smiling inwardly as she revealed her dark mound and pillowy folds to me.

She set the plate aside on the duvet as I leaned closer and began nuzzling my face into her soft, warm, downy, trimmed and womanly fur. The scent of the bath and her skin made sparkles in the back of my head as I drank her in, and it wasn't long before my hands were firmly grasping her upper thighs as I tilted my head to gently dart the tip of my tongue just above and around her raising clit.



I teased her, and when she opened her legs further for me, hunching lower onto the bed, I coated her puffy mound with slow and sensual swabs with my wet tongue. I slid it between her folds. I nibbled on her thighs. She moaned quietly and began to seethe lustfully as she eagerly enjoyed my attention, and when she began thrusting herself closer to my mouth I gave her what she wanted.

Slowly, I slid my tongue into her as she opened like a feral orchid, and I tasted her elixers joyfully. Kara has such a clean and feral texture to her, as if she were a polite fruit with a scorchingly auburn center and fragrantly sweet nectar underneath her smooth and charming skin. A mango.

I bobbed my head slowly as my tongue trailed circles around her clit, which always sends her into a frenzy. She gyrated on the bed when I began to suck on her nubbin, gasping and tugging my hair, almost sending her plate of cake to the floor. It was then, as I heard the fork clatter and clink, that a deliciously naughty idea occured to me.

I knelt up and held the plate before her. Kara blinked, then smiled when she watched me scoop a rich, black chocolate icing flower from the edge of the slice upon the tip of the fork. Still holding it, I brought my mouth back to her drenched and gorgeous pussy and began swabbing her clit even more earnestly then before. She bucked and groaned, and I brought the fork to her mouth. She chuckled again.

Both of hands now held her hips as I began licking and sucking her clit deeply into my own mouth, her tiny pebble darting in and out between my wet lips while I sucked, as the dense icing swirled along her tongue. Immediately, Kara was awash in a sensation of complete and total decadence, every nerve and synapse in her faerie body responding to combined heights of pleasure. In both tasting the rich chocolate at the very same time she was getting sucked in the way that always sends her off, she cascaded into blissful oblivion.

She came almost immediately, and didn't seem to know whether to laugh or cry while she tried to scream through a mouthful of chocolate. She shook uncontrollably under me, and I held my sucking mouth firm to her as she thrashed through her waves. All the while I caressed and held her thighs until she finally began to slow herself down. I lessened my pace until my tongue was only barely touching her with short little swirls.

She took a long time before she caught her breath, and even when she did, it was the rapid blinking of her eyes, her deep gasps, her spechlessness that told me just how much fun she had just had. Mmmm.

Sunday comics.

to be continued...

Having my cake...

I love the slow tease when my face is pressed against her taut stomach, my hands slowly caressing her arms. I rain soft and tender kisses to her there, and can feel my cock harden in my jeans when I press my jaw against her own denim-covered nexus.

As I snap the button, my head of my cock is straining against the denim I'm wearing, and the rough material makes my glans widen as I anticipate the scent of her.

The zipper gets lowered and I'm gently tugging her jeans down from the waist, while my eyes are greedily taking in the sight of her soft panties. I'm squirming under her. She raises her knees. One by one, her legs emerge from the jeans, and when one is raised enough to remove the pants entirely, I sneak a glance at the small stain of wetness on her covered crotch.

I want to bury my face there, and do. I'm drinking her in, flicking my tongue against her and over ther underwear, soaking her panties more. My hands are massaging her thighs, caressing her, biting her, enjoying her muscles and her skin and the cute ripple that comes from a gentle smack.

Slowly, teasing myself, I tug the hem of her panties lower. Her navel entrances me. The first sight of a wisp of fur captures me. My cock is made of steel and my tongue is wet velvet. I close my eyes, move even closer, and fill my lungs with her clean, feral allure.

I roll the cotton downward until they seem little more than a string connecting one outer thigh to another. I kneel up and peel them away, smiling as each of her legs, each of her feet, escape its confines. I lay back down, and she rests an ankle on my back.

I look into her eyes. I don't close them again until her moist, tender warmth has met the width of my curious, insatiable tongue and her essences seethe across my mouth, lips, and into my throat.

If you didn't know already, tomorrow is Cake and Cunnilingus Day. Enjoy.

The hazard.

The scene: In my car as I'm cruising toward Kara's house.

Radio host #1: "...and Tiger's gotta know that everywhere he goes, everyone he's with, everything he says is being watched now. He may as well live like a cloistered monk. He can't even be seen asking a hotel cleaning maid for a box of Kleenex without..."

Radio host #2: "Saying a 'box of Kleenex' is an innuendo for something?"

Radio host#1: "No, I mean, he can't ask for a real box of Kleenex without someone with a camera phone jumping out of..."

Radio host #2: "You know, he said that he had 'hit bottom.' Right. I bet he hit a lot of bottoms."

Radio host #1: "Well, I was gonna say 'a camera phone lurking behind every bush,' but I reconsidered that one too!"