Monday, August 11, 2008
Almost There
This is being written from high above the Pacific Ocean. The lights in the cabin have been turned off as the flight crew has decided it is time for us to be sleeping. Since Beijing is 13 hours ahead of where the Spanko residence sits, I’m not whether or not this will help aid in avoiding jet lag. However, a few million last minute details as well as the excitement of the upcoming trip caused me to get little more than a nap last night. A long limo ride to the airport (I’m going to the Olympics, for goodness sakes, I’m not taking a bus), what seemed like hours getting through security screening, an hour sitting in the terminal, another half-hour on the tarmac, and by the time the plane was in the air, I was ready for a nap. So now, at the prescribed snooze time, I’m not especially tired. Since the rest of the plane is mostly quiet, I decided to take this time to do some journaling.
Since the last sundown that I experienced with my feet on the ground, I have lost all sense of date and time, but I believe that it was Wednesday evening when Angela and I partook in our planned Olympic Spanking. Armed with the huge number of suggestions (one) received from my esteemed readers, we designed our kinky little games. We decided to start with Opening Ceremonies, a nice, warm, ten swat paddling for each of us, to start things off. From there we would go to the diving competition, a belt spanking with the spankee in the position of a swan dive. Next would spanking gymnastics, being spanked while hanging onto the high bar, draped over the pommel horse, and then the freestyle spanking. Next there was the fencing tournament, with the swords replaced by a thin, flexible plastic rod (actually the handle of a former cat toy). Whomever lost the point had to be whacked across the butt with the same rod. Finally there would be track and field, where we designed a spanking pentathlon. That’s five events for those of you who are bad counting in Greek. The events were the 100-meter dash (100 swats with a hairbrush delivered as fast as one could), the hurdles (placing a two-inch-wide board across the spankee’s butt and being spanked with a belt around it), the high-jump (the spankee would jump in the air and the spanker had to try to hit their butt … if you hit their legs you lost a point), the long jump (seeing how far one could jump after getting whacked with a paddle), and the 1500 (the spankee had to count to 1500 as fast as they could while they were bend over and well paddled). We would conclude with Closing Ceremonies, which we decided to design later.
We were working on an excuse to go over to the guest house when Maribel came in and announced that she needed to do some “last minute shopping” and that she was taking Colette with her to help. We were more than happy to let them go, and even gave them fifty bucks to make sure that they didn’t “forget” anything. When the girls were off, we still headed for the guest house, since our kinky furniture was there, without needing an excuse. Once we were inside, the drapes closed, and the air conditioning cranked up, we wasted no time in removing our pants. It is so much more comfortable without pants.
After our Opening Ceremonies, we began the competition. The diving competition spanking turned out to be a trifle trickier than originally planned. It seems that holding a “swan dive” position when one is on dry land is very difficult. However, these were the Olympics, so we were determined to improvise. With strategically placed pillows and cushions, one could comfortably get into some semblance of a “swan” pose. Once posed, it was an effective position in which to receive the belt. When Angela concluded, I was one well-whipped swan.
Angela took her turn as the gracefully-spanked bird, and then we proceeded to spanking gymnastics. I hung a wooden rod horizontally from a hook in the ceiling, and reached up and grabbed it. I am rather tall, so, with my arms held straight up over my head, I can just touch the ceiling. So I wasn’t dangling, but rather just stretched out with my feet flat on the floor. Angela chose a short but sturdy strap, and gave me a nice thrashing. I couple of her strokes stung quite seriously, and I danced around a trifle. This caused Angela to “deduct points” and gave me a couple of swats across my thighs, causing me to dance somewhat more.
I attached a chain to the bar to lower it so that Angela could reach it. It turned out that Angela’s “target” was easier to strike when she was slightly reaching forward. Angela danced around quite a bit, but when I “deducted points,” rather than striking her thighs, I would tickle her. Angela acts really cute when she’s tickled.
We have a “spanking horse” if you will, so we took turns draping ourselves over it and tanning each other’s hides with a strap. For the freestyle spanking, I took ten strokes with the strap in five different positions over the sofa. I had Angela assume a number of different ways of touching her toes whilst I lashed her with a cane.
As you might imagine, the fencing competition disintegrated into silliness rather quickly. We were both quite naked by this time, so I’m sure we looked rather ludicrous dancing around trying to touch each other with our little plastic “swords”. The plan was that, whomever got the first touch would spank the other with the little plastic “sword.” This worked for one or two rounds, both of which I lost. I found the plastic rods wonderfully stingy. The next round resulted in an argument over who got the first touch, so we decided to call it a tie and spank each other.
When we resumed, I decided that it would be more fun if I were to aim my little plastic stick for Angela’s cute little tushie rather than just touching her. I quickly darted in and flicked my wrist, catching her on the side of her bum. This caught her by surprise, and she momentarily gaped at me. I gave her little whipping, and when we began fencing again, Angela tried the same maneuver on me. We ended up dancing around in circles as we tried to smack each others’ butts. We twirled faster, and I started to back-pedal, when I danced into the back of the sofa and fell backwards over it. Angela’s momentum caused her to follow me over, and she landed on top of me, laughing hysterically.
She stopped laughing. Suddenly she planted a big, wet kiss on my lips. “I’m going to miss you, Frank Spanko,” she said. This caught me somewhat by surprise.
“I shall miss you too, Angela Jane Spanko,” I responded. Jane is not really her middle name, but I think it sounds cute, so I will occasionally employ it. “But I’ll be back before you know it, and I’ll have plenty of exciting stories to relate to you.” Together, we rolled so that we were now laying properly on the sofa. Angela kissed me again, this time longer and deeper. It was then decided that the Spanking Olympics had concluded, and without further ado, we proceeded directly to the Closing Ceremonies.
After, shall we say, the torch had been extinguished, Angela said, “We’d better get back to the barn. The kids will be back any minute, and I promised Maribel that she and The Boyfriend could have the guest house for the night. They’ll probably have their own Spanking Olympics.” This last statement made me cringe. I don’t mind that my daughter is a spanko, but I don’t want to know that some other man will be doing to my little girl that I just did with Angela. Fathers are just like that, I guess.
So now the cabin lights are starting to come up and the flight attendants look like they are preparing to serve breakfast. It won’t be long before the plane lands and our Olympic adventure begins. There will be so much to do that I’d better save my strength and my words for when we reach Beijing. I have a feeling that every new experience will simply be fantastic.
Since the last sundown that I experienced with my feet on the ground, I have lost all sense of date and time, but I believe that it was Wednesday evening when Angela and I partook in our planned Olympic Spanking. Armed with the huge number of suggestions (one) received from my esteemed readers, we designed our kinky little games. We decided to start with Opening Ceremonies, a nice, warm, ten swat paddling for each of us, to start things off. From there we would go to the diving competition, a belt spanking with the spankee in the position of a swan dive. Next would spanking gymnastics, being spanked while hanging onto the high bar, draped over the pommel horse, and then the freestyle spanking. Next there was the fencing tournament, with the swords replaced by a thin, flexible plastic rod (actually the handle of a former cat toy). Whomever lost the point had to be whacked across the butt with the same rod. Finally there would be track and field, where we designed a spanking pentathlon. That’s five events for those of you who are bad counting in Greek. The events were the 100-meter dash (100 swats with a hairbrush delivered as fast as one could), the hurdles (placing a two-inch-wide board across the spankee’s butt and being spanked with a belt around it), the high-jump (the spankee would jump in the air and the spanker had to try to hit their butt … if you hit their legs you lost a point), the long jump (seeing how far one could jump after getting whacked with a paddle), and the 1500 (the spankee had to count to 1500 as fast as they could while they were bend over and well paddled). We would conclude with Closing Ceremonies, which we decided to design later.We were working on an excuse to go over to the guest house when Maribel came in and announced that she needed to do some “last minute shopping” and that she was taking Colette with her to help. We were more than happy to let them go, and even gave them fifty bucks to make sure that they didn’t “forget” anything. When the girls were off, we still headed for the guest house, since our kinky furniture was there, without needing an excuse. Once we were inside, the drapes closed, and the air conditioning cranked up, we wasted no time in removing our pants. It is so much more comfortable without pants.
After our Opening Ceremonies, we began the competition. The diving competition spanking turned out to be a trifle trickier than originally planned. It seems that holding a “swan dive” position when one is on dry land is very difficult. However, these were the Olympics, so we were determined to improvise. With strategically placed pillows and cushions, one could comfortably get into some semblance of a “swan” pose. Once posed, it was an effective position in which to receive the belt. When Angela concluded, I was one well-whipped swan.
Angela took her turn as the gracefully-spanked bird, and then we proceeded to spanking gymnastics. I hung a wooden rod horizontally from a hook in the ceiling, and reached up and grabbed it. I am rather tall, so, with my arms held straight up over my head, I can just touch the ceiling. So I wasn’t dangling, but rather just stretched out with my feet flat on the floor. Angela chose a short but sturdy strap, and gave me a nice thrashing. I couple of her strokes stung quite seriously, and I danced around a trifle. This caused Angela to “deduct points” and gave me a couple of swats across my thighs, causing me to dance somewhat more.
I attached a chain to the bar to lower it so that Angela could reach it. It turned out that Angela’s “target” was easier to strike when she was slightly reaching forward. Angela danced around quite a bit, but when I “deducted points,” rather than striking her thighs, I would tickle her. Angela acts really cute when she’s tickled.
We have a “spanking horse” if you will, so we took turns draping ourselves over it and tanning each other’s hides with a strap. For the freestyle spanking, I took ten strokes with the strap in five different positions over the sofa. I had Angela assume a number of different ways of touching her toes whilst I lashed her with a cane.
As you might imagine, the fencing competition disintegrated into silliness rather quickly. We were both quite naked by this time, so I’m sure we looked rather ludicrous dancing around trying to touch each other with our little plastic “swords”. The plan was that, whomever got the first touch would spank the other with the little plastic “sword.” This worked for one or two rounds, both of which I lost. I found the plastic rods wonderfully stingy. The next round resulted in an argument over who got the first touch, so we decided to call it a tie and spank each other.
When we resumed, I decided that it would be more fun if I were to aim my little plastic stick for Angela’s cute little tushie rather than just touching her. I quickly darted in and flicked my wrist, catching her on the side of her bum. This caught her by surprise, and she momentarily gaped at me. I gave her little whipping, and when we began fencing again, Angela tried the same maneuver on me. We ended up dancing around in circles as we tried to smack each others’ butts. We twirled faster, and I started to back-pedal, when I danced into the back of the sofa and fell backwards over it. Angela’s momentum caused her to follow me over, and she landed on top of me, laughing hysterically.
She stopped laughing. Suddenly she planted a big, wet kiss on my lips. “I’m going to miss you, Frank Spanko,” she said. This caught me somewhat by surprise.
“I shall miss you too, Angela Jane Spanko,” I responded. Jane is not really her middle name, but I think it sounds cute, so I will occasionally employ it. “But I’ll be back before you know it, and I’ll have plenty of exciting stories to relate to you.” Together, we rolled so that we were now laying properly on the sofa. Angela kissed me again, this time longer and deeper. It was then decided that the Spanking Olympics had concluded, and without further ado, we proceeded directly to the Closing Ceremonies.
After, shall we say, the torch had been extinguished, Angela said, “We’d better get back to the barn. The kids will be back any minute, and I promised Maribel that she and The Boyfriend could have the guest house for the night. They’ll probably have their own Spanking Olympics.” This last statement made me cringe. I don’t mind that my daughter is a spanko, but I don’t want to know that some other man will be doing to my little girl that I just did with Angela. Fathers are just like that, I guess.
So now the cabin lights are starting to come up and the flight attendants look like they are preparing to serve breakfast. It won’t be long before the plane lands and our Olympic adventure begins. There will be so much to do that I’d better save my strength and my words for when we reach Beijing. I have a feeling that every new experience will simply be fantastic.
