Public

We went to a movie last night. It was a long forgotten reservation for tickets for a classic movie and we made it into dinner and a movie. She got a little bit of her RLS (Restless leg) thing going and removed her shoes during the movie. During the movie, I rubber her back multiple times, helped her body relax a little and generally followed her cues to help her with feeling better.

At the end, the credits ran, she picked up her shoes and we went with the crowd, swept up in the people walking, then pulled off into the lower seats of the theater where we were both able to not be in the way. There, in front of the rest of the crowd, I helped her put her shoes on. Kneeling in front of her, I helped, she scratched my ears, it was obvious that I was helping her with her shoes. I handed her her jacket and her bag afterward and we walked out.

It was a lovely thing to be able to do for her. I hope someone was able to watch and see and know that this lovely FLR moment was happening.

Trigger Finger

127532515_0bbeb8b4ba_bDamn it, I miss my boy. Enough is enough. I completely get he is away for a very good cause, and never would I interfere with that. But damn it….I don’t like being apart like this. They say that absence makes the heart grow fonder, and that’s true. But what do they say about a Dominant woman? What grows within her during absence? The heart?? Yes, the heart does indeed yearn. The body? Yes, that yearns too. But so does my trigger finger. And it just so happens that my trigger finger is the same exact one that is used to point. To direct. To beacon. To silence. To snap. With that one finger, I can make my grown boy cry. And that I do very much enjoy at times.

I am missing our routines. Can I take care of myself? Yes, of course I can. But I don’t want to. Not in all aspects. I am missing the daily rituals of him undressing me at night. Of the gentle removal of jewelry from my body. I miss watching him as he puts away my clothing, my things. I am missing his daily devotions. His kissing of all my bits and places.  His licking. His attentive hands and mouth.

I am missing the petting. The holding. The coffee. The warming of the car. The bed being made. The perfect cocktail at the end of the day.

Yes, I am without him and I am making and drinking coffee. I am putting away my clothes. And making the bed.

But I don’t prefer to do these things. I much prefer to point. To beacon. To snap. To point and command.

Even if there is a huge, wicked smile upon my face.

Ruff Days!!

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My dog crawling around on his hands and knees, seeking a treasure from the sea

I couldn’t resist choosing this as the title. I giggle at it, smiling at the memories that are revealed in the photos for this post, and those memories make me happy.

It’s been a challenging couple of weeks for my pup. I empathize with the curve balls life has thrown him. Nothing insurmountable, nothing that time and patience won’t heal, but still – pain in the ass stuff. Mostly around his car. And travel plans.  And work. And logistics. All first world problems, we know. But still, we can feel it. It squeezes him much differently than I squeeze him. I dare say he likes My pressure much more than life pressure right now.

I’ve worked with care to keep him on a short leash during this time. My dog can have his day, but his upset is only allowed to go so far. He is not permitted to bring cranky into the bed. Like dust on a dog, he must shake it off before getting naked and jumping beneath the covers with me.

The other day we went to a small, local beach that is not widely known. It’s our secret gem right outside of the biggest city in the state. Being Maine, that isn’t too big of a thing, but still… it’s so wonderful to have it. It is really only accessible during low tide, and when the waters retreat, a beautiful little stretch of beach reveals itself to whose who know of its carefully hidden location. If there are 15 people on the beach, it’s crowded. It’s a place where almost anything goes. Small groups of adults will gather with a bottle of wine and a plate of nosh and watch the sail boats go by. Kids can strip down to their underpants and take a quick swim before heading home, and no one cares. And dogs are allowed off leash, at all times.

Nosh at secret beach

Nosh at secret beach

I took my boy there the other day. It was during the height of his crankiness. He probably would have rather stayed home, but I insisted that he come with me. We packed up and off we went. The tide was perfect, the day was stunning. And because dogs are permitted off leash, my boy was under strict orders to be under voice control at all times.

I got him up off his chair and ordered him to find a way to crawl around the beach area on his hands and knees. “But there are people here, all around us” my boy mildly protested. “I don’t care” was my reply. “Find a way to do it, and do it now” was my final answer.

And so he did.

Feigning a make believe interested in exploring up close the tiny sea critters that climb among the rocks when the tide is right, my boy crawled on his hands and knees. I was walking next to him, and to the average onlooker, it appeared as though my man was intently exploring some type of marine biology with intellectual passion, but really, he wasn’t. He was following my softly spoken commands.

Crawl for Me, boy. That’s it… crawl forward on your hands and knees”.

And he did.

Dig in the sand, boy. Find Me a gift. Dig for me. Fetch me a sea present“.

And he did.

Sniff something, pet. Put your face down low, and sniff something for Me“.

He did.

Dig for me, pet. Use that paw, and dig me a hole“.

Of course, he did.

If you’ve been a regular reader of this blog, you’ll know that we aren’t really into puppy play. It is somewhat rare that we actually do this sort of thing. We will use little, endearing dog references, but otherwise, puppy play is not our thing. But on this day, it was. I was enamored at the opportunity to play in public like this. It is one of my favorite things to do. Right out in the open, in public, for anyone to see, my boy was crawling around on his hands and knees, following the softly spoken orders that I gave him. No one seemed to notice. No one seemed to care. People walked by him, engaged in their own conversations, and occasionally someone would smile at the man on his hands and knees, exploring the rocks and seaweed, accompanied by a woman who was taking pictures. The only thing that could have made this better would have been to have him naked, with toy troy next to him. In my mind, and in my imagination, he was very naked. And collared. And leashed. Because even in a playground with few rules such as this one, it’s nice to have order.

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Gift from the sea. The sand dollar that my boy found while digging, placed on his back, next to the brand I had placed on his skin a year ago.

 

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My feet, and his hand, as he crawls near the rocks, digging and sniffing.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Getting Ready

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Camp. Kinky camp. It’s the annual trip we have been making for 8 or 9 years now, sometimes several times a year. It’s a place where over 1000 like-minded bring their toy bags and assemble their devious minds and play can go all day and all night if you want it to.

It’s the place where clothing is optional, and yet last night as I was packing, I was wondering why I am bringing more clothes than I’ll want or need. It’s the same question I ask myself every year.

So, round one of packing complete. Tonight, as my boy works on his own packing list, I’ll go through and weed out what I don’t truly need and what I don’t truly love.

This year, I am bringing both boys with me. Both will be in service, both will be my divine playthings, and all of us will sleep in one, big mattress pile.

I am so looking forward to exposing toy troy to all of this wonderment. It will be all brand new for him. Naked people walking happily. Sunbathers soaking it all in. Rope. Fire. Chastity. Costumes. Crosses and cages. I know not to do too much, too soon. Exposure and dabbling with be enough. But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t feeling giddy about it. I’m feeling really giddy about it!

John is working hard. Getting ready for camp is no easy feat. He does the bulk of the organizing and packing. He is the muscle and brain behind it all. The puppet on the end of my string. And with 106 days of chastity under his belt (pun totally intended), there is a cooped up energy that can’t be missed.

Our world is just like anyone elses. Busy, scheduled, frazzled at times. Juggling work, kids, home, money, chores, friends, activities. But then we get something like this…..this camp trip….and we realize how lucky we are. We get to do the things that most only wonder about, and I am forever grateful for that.

 

I have not decided about his release from his denial yet. I am not sure if I will allow him to have a cum. The start of camp will bring us to 114 days. And there are lots of benefits to that, but some challenges too. I like my fuckings. But I also love the energy that comes from him not cumming, even if it means less fucking. I’ll have to see. I simply have not decided yet.

It’s been a while since I have posted. Too long. I love that john has been picking up the slack, I appreciate him for that….very much so. I think sometimes that I don’t have anything incredible to blog about, but then I realize how lucky we are to get to do the things we do.  That’s pretty incredible.

Just the fact that I found both of these lovely men on Craigslist is amazing. What are the odds?? We have daily moments of extraordinary exchanges between us. Power exchanges. Female driven, and female lead. Some days are better than others. Some days are insanely perfect.  My confidence can vary, my energy can ebb and flow. But daily, no matter what, this is the way I want it…..the dynamic that feels exactly right to me. After all, we live in Maine… the land of “The Way Life Should Be”. Our life just happens to include collars and cages.

 

My slutty dungeon boy

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Please, ask john about the dungeon…..

So, my boy has been back for well over a week, and he has yet to blog about his trip away.

He went away for a week. Had all sorts of sexy adventures. Did you all know that??

He went south, DC area.

To a kinky event that holds thousands of kinky people.

He was in service to another Mistress there. A Lady, actually. A very fine Lady, if I don’t say so Myself.

He helped build a dungeon. A really really cool dungeon.

And sex spaces! Lots of sexy sex spaces. He helped build those too.

He got to be a bottom that took orders, dropped to his knees, and did what he was told.

He got to wrestle naked with a naked woman. The only reason they were naked was because they started fully clothed. The object of the wrestling was to wrestle one another naked. He did that. Did you know he did that?? Probably not, because he has not written about it. Bad dog. You should ask him who won. Go ahead, ask my dog john.

He got to cane a pussy. He got to cane a man made of military steel. He got caned himself. He had all sorts of adventures, but hasn’t shared by writing about it. Bad boy.

How should he be punished for this neglect?? What’s the point of an alternative kinky blog called Exquisite Dungeon if he isn’t going to blog about being in one of the biggest and best dungeons we have on the east coast? Doesn’t that sound like a very Exquisite thing to blog about??

Comments welcome. Verrrrry welcome. And if there are some good ones, I’ll blog about the results of those suggestions.

:-)

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Mad Crying

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Mad crying.

It is exactly how I felt last night. This morning I feel an indifferent sort of mad, but yesterday, it was pretty much mad crying.

I had gotten to work a bit early yesterday, so I was able to skip out sooner than usual and get to the indoor track to do my stuff. I was in a great mood; smiling at everyone as I did my laps, smiling at the kids I could see on the basketball court, smiling bigger when people smiled back at me because I was smiling at everyone. It was ‘that’ kind of happy day.  I was on the verge of looking  happy foolish, not caring at all if I did.

I had been asked earlier that day via email if I was available to go on an unexpected road trip to a neighboring city  and do an overnight with a play partner I’ve dabbled with on and off over the past 9 or so years. He is a good guy, and I am always happy to hear from him. He has a wonderfully and dastardly kinky mind, and has used it beautifully on me in the past.  But I have also long known he is one of those tortured souls who will forever feel terrible guilt for being kinky, and while his cock often do lots of his short term thinking, his conscious has always has the upper hand. In other words,  the ratio of cancellation-to-play has always been a steady 20:1.

After about a three year hiatus where he disappeared, explaining to me that he was finally putting aside kink for good, I ran into him again on the internet. He was back, he was thrilled to find me and we quickly and excitedly concluded that playing again would be good for both of us. We could jump right in where we left off, which was on the edge of some deeper, darker play….just the way I wanted it.

He is dominant. No chance of switching with this guy. I thoroughly like bottoming to him. Not submitting, because those kinds of bones never grew in my body, but I am….and can be…..good at bottoming, especially if it is for the short term. I very much enjoy bottoming to him, for him. He is wicked with his ideas, and his heart is huge. Exactly the ‘one-two’ kind of punch I love.

Except that at the last minute, he bailed. While I was alternately walking/running the track after work and before our date, I got the text that said, “Sorry, something came up”.  In an instant, all of my smiling vanished. All the good joy I was feeling disappeared. I’m still mad about it now, actually. Damn me for getting excited. I should have known better. That’s one of the big parts that upset me. I let myself get hopeful.  I knew the risk with this guy, I said yes, and then I got upset for being disappointed. I was running the track and felt that tightening in my throat. I was mad. And I was close to crying. Because really….I was being blown off. Again. By a dominant. It’s always the bottom part of me that gets the blow off. Not usually my dominant side. Or if my dominant side does get blown off, I seem okay with it. At least not vulnerable. But that tiny part of me that likes to let someone else be the boss? Yep, that is the side that takes the hit. And not the good kind of hit, either.

The good news is that it reminds me that I am forever grateful to have john. He is still the best top ever for me when the occasional use of him in that way gets called into action. He knows what I like and how I like it and he still knows how to push  my happy buttons.  I  know that all I have to do is ask, and he’ll do it. Or, I can order him. That could be fun…..instruct him to be the exact service top I want now and again. But I only like to play that particular card with him very selectively. It’s not one I want to overuse. Or misuse.

So, there it stands. And….I will share the good that comes of out of this self pittying story: It makes me a better dominant having experiences like this. I really think I am more careful with people because I have been blown off a lot by dominants. I do not want to resemble the bad ones…..at all.  I still don’t get it 100 % right (thinking about “P” right now….), but I do try pretty hard to be considerate and caring. I do not do to others what I would not want done to me….that is how I try and play it. Results do vary on occasion.

But motherfucker……..being blown off like that sucks. I still feel mad. In truth, when I pull apart the emotions of what I am feeling (I am risk aware, after all…..), it is rejection. And who likes that, really?? I am being rejected by a dominant that I really like who continues to pull me in and that drop me cold at the 11th hour. No wonder some submissives get bratty sometimes. I think they are really expressing rejection at some level. And ya know what…? I totally get it.

I know that people get blown off all the time. I know that I get to do more things in a month sometimes than a lot of people will ever get to do in a lifetime. I am not unaware of that. But I also expect a higher rate of return because I show up. I don’t sit on my couch, surfing the net, watching the world go by outside my window. I am there, I am in the game and always have been.  I have taken steady, calculated, articulate chances since I started this entire course. I take pride in being a good person who tries to do things the right way. I am a sadist with integrity and heart. That is how I’d label myself.

It felt good to email him a ‘fuck you’ email last night. I was not kind when I wrote him. I pretty much had a dominants version of a temper tantrum on paper. And I don’t care. It felt good to write it. “Here. Take that, asshole!”.  But I was able to admit that I am as mad as I am because I actually like him a lot. I know he is good. And I know he liked me back. I think in a way he represents what I fear most in myself in some way….the paralyzing inability to feel as though you can’t do something, mostly because you haven’t even tried. I feel very solid in my kink, but perhaps less so in other areas of my life.

Not a great post, I know. But a truthful one. Thank goodness most of my days are good. And that I have two wonderful boys who I can’t say enough good things about. I am lucky. I wanted an itch scratched, and it continues to elude me. So be it.

I was excited. And then I wasn’t. But I will be better tomorrow.

The end.

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Waving and welcoming

 

 

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I like the two chains; one for each boy.

Well, my pup has hit the road late last night. South he goes, headed to the winter kink event that packs thousands of people in one big hotel for a long weekend. He is driving about 10 hours south of Maine and yet the weather is supposed to be frigid. He works the weekend (ok, volunteers is a more accurate word). I don’t envy him when it is this cold. I know what it is like. For many years, we have done and worked this event together, but not this time. My job gets in the way this year, so he goes as our representative. I will miss him and miss all the kinky delights that I know will take place. But, I am working on my delights, so there is definitely that to look forward to.

John will play as both top and bottom, and I like that he will get to do both. The lovely southern area ‘Lady” will help look after him for Me, and he will spend part of the weekend in perfect service to Her. I like hearing the stories when he serves her. I think she holds him to a very high standard, which I like. And she can be a bit of a sadist. Which I love.

My boy is going with a bit of a new look. Normally, I would consider him a very well manicured man. Right now, he is still that way, with a bit of “Sons of Anarchy” thrown in. I will be curious to learn if his looks influence his play in any way. I grin thinking about it.

I was a little verklempt  seeing him packing up all the toys, though. I would have loved to have gone with him, bringing with us my toy troy (yes, he officially has a name). I think it would have blown troy’s mind to be there, in a good way. I had fantasies about that. I am hoping that troy can accompany us for the summer event we will be going to.

Speaking of troy, I am spending our first significant chunk of time with him this coming week. He opted not to go away on a guys weekend this weekend, so I get V-day with one of the two boys, and that is very nice.  I am not a big Hallmark holiday kind of person, but still, it will nice to not spend it alone. At least the ‘breakfast in bed’ part. :-)

I am really, really looking forward to this time with him. It will include training, yes. I want him to know what I like, how I like it, etc. But I also want hang out time with him. Exploring time with him. I want to continue to learn about his body and his mind. I want to groom him in this service that I love. And I really like the idea of being at his place. I know he will be most comfortable there, and I want that for him. I think he will feel more confident this way, and that will work nicely as I perhaps put him through a few paces that make him nervous. In the best of ways, of course.

Saturday has me going to the Fetish Flea with a vanilla girlfriend who knows all about our lives, all about what we enjoy. I am most excited for this! She is an absolute treasure of a friend, and I know she will love the experience, if not for the shoes and shopping alone! Troy is providing a lovely service for us. I asked him to create a road trip cooler for us, as the last time I went to his event, it took nearly 3 hours at the hotel bar to get a simple burger. This year, I am being smarter and from what troy tells me, he is doing a fabulous job of creating something simple and elegant for us….just the way I like it.

So, that’s the update for now. Lots going on despite the cold and dark that keeps most indoors. Time for me to go pack up a few things I will need for the days I am with troy. I’ll start with all things leather and steel first……

 

Nutshells in review…

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So, I have not really posted since the holidays. Typically, January is my month of hibernation. I have to steel myself against the coldest, harshest month in order to get through it. I have done that pretty successfully, I am happy to say. I have spent the month with family, cleaning up body and mind from holiday over indulgence,  feeling confident and overall, things are good.

Here’s the nutshell:

My boy john continues to be a loving, patient, devoted presence in my life. My boy has not had his leash tugged at very often, he has not had his ass violated, he has not been beaten or sexually used like I know he likes, and yet, he stays close to my side, always steadfast, nearly always agreeable. I cannot appreciate him enough for this. I know he is happy to see my kinky awakening now that adult child has headed back south.

My toy “t” continues to be a lovely presence in our world. He is the toy I found on Craigslist. He is a gem, and I am delighted to have him. He is devoted, eager, happy, curious, kind, and a damn good cook. I am thoroughly enjoying how he tends to Me. My john has been instrumental in helping train and mold ‘t’ to the things I like and how I like them. It is going quiet well. ‘t’ is thrilled to be a part of things even though things have not been all that exciting in January.

I am dealing with guilt around ‘p’, the other craigslist contender. I am the one who dropped the ball on this one. I think I lost some mojo around the whole thing because I know he is straight out with work and I don’t like the idea of taking him from that when I know how important it is to him. I am not a perfect dominant. I wrestle with feelings and guilts like any other person. I pretty much let ‘p’ slip away and I am not feeling great about that. It still feels unresolved to me. I am still thinking about it, thinking about him.

There has been a sexy and interesting development;

Someone has emerged in January who I have been writing with for months and months. Oh, I do like him!!! I do believe that I will be writing about adventures with him a fair amount. He is dominant, and he is an excellent candidate for many of the deviant things I am interested in seeing happen to my boy(s). I am going to leave it at that. We have gotten through the “meet and greets” and the negotiations. I think there is a lot of potential in this. I am excited. If you enjoy reading about m2m adventures, you should check in often. I smile.

I received an email recently from someone who I really enjoyed playing with but who disappeared a while back. He is a dominant and I met him about 8 years ago as an occasional play partner for myself during the times I am interested in bottoming. I liked him a lot, but he fell off the radar and I moved on. He has returned and I find this very interesting and rather exciting. I am not the same person I was then, and he seems very at peace with that, and with himself. We will see where it goes, but it brings me joy to see him back, and that is a good thing.

I need to go back and re-read older posts from December. I feel as though I have unfinished stories to tell from last month. I will do that. For now, I wanted to post a brief update of the happenings and not-so-happenings in the house of the exquisite dungeon.

:-)

 

The “Looking Back” Series

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For the next week, starting tomorrow, I will be posting entries that take a look back over the past decade. This week marks the 10 year anniversary of when I placed my very first Craigslist ad, seeking to talk with someone who knew something about kink.

I didn’t know much about kink, except that I really, really wanted it, but I had no idea where to begin.

I found John when I cast that line, and I have never looked back.

I have more favorite moments than I can fit in a few days, so I picked stories that speak to me for a variety of reasons.

I started as a submissive, as most of my fantasies as a young person had to do with being powerless in a sexual situation. That is what I initially thought being submissive was all about. Little did I know, but that was why I was here…..to find out.  John was my first dominant, my first experience, my first kinky partner.  Soon after our play began, he asked me to try switching, to see how we both liked it.

I liked it. A lot.

He liked it. A lot.

And that “liking” took us through miles of trial and error to the place we are now….in a Female lead relationship that has as much full time status as we can muster. Which is pretty much 23.7 hours a day.

We still switch. I love the versatility of switching. John and I are…..at a minimum…..4 people in one relationship. We each have our top and bottom side. That makes four. And truly, things stay very interesting with four people in one bed.

But overall, I am the boss. I run the show. I call the shots. John is my partner, and what he thinks and feels matters to me completely. For us, it is real, our FLR status. But in that realness, we have a lot of fun. Some hard moments too, but overall, a ton of fun.

Me being a dominant is a natural fit for me. My personality is Dominant. And for john, his fits him perfectly, too. Switching into a bottom roll for me (and note that I did not say submissive roll) is akin to getting an itch scratched. “Scratch, scratch, scratch, stop!”.

I love to bottom sometimes because I think it’s fun. I like it. And….it has therapeutic value for me, too. I sometimes want to put myself through the paces I am going to put someone else through. For me, it is important to keep connected to that empathetic thread that helps connect me. I am a sadist, and this continues to grow in me. So, yes….bottoming is fun, but it helps me too.

So….this week…..five different stories about five very different things, involving 4 different people who are really 2 people in total. Got that??

I hope you read. I hope you enjoy. I hope you have favorite moments of your own that you take joy in, or that you are on your way to creating a cache of your own beloved kink.

Power exchange for us is a beautiful, wonderful, sexy, productive, twisted, exhilarating, versatile, expressive thing. Simply put, we don’t leave home without it.

Thank you for reading. Please come back again soon!

 

:-)

Battling it out…

Today is going to be a quiet day in terms of posting.

john and I are battling.

John and i are battling.

It is a beautiful Sunday, and we are home for a large part of it. A lazy Sunday of sorts, as our plan is to drift through cooking and some cleaning….perhaps digging out holiday decorations. Perhaps not.

Except we are not getting as much done as I’d like.

Because we keep going at it with one another.

We are fighting.

With each other.

All four of us, swatting, pulling, grabbing, hammering, pawing, clawing, grasping at one another.

One house, and it’s me, Me, john and John.

Top vs bottom, Dominance vs submission.

John keeps pushing me into the bedroom, thrusting himself deep inside me, knowing I can’t talk when he does that. He is big. I’ll just say that. And when he really hammers it inside of me, I can’t get past it that easily.

And that is exactly what he is doing. Smiling the entire time he hammers into me. I don’t know how I know he is smiling, because my eyes are closed, because I can’t open them, because the hammering can be that hard.

I love it. I hate it. I love it.

I love it.

Hate it.

Love it.

Love it.

It can be uncomfortable, which is why he is smiling, I think. That, and the fact that he knows I love it far more than I hate it.

He stops either when he has had enough for the round he is in, or, because I have managed to push him off of me with my foot. Or, something like that.

And then it’s my turn. As soon as the fucking is done, the caning begins.

Boots and a santa hat

Boots and santa hat, is anything more needed?

Because, if he’s gonna play, he’s gonna pay.

Because despite everything, I am the boss, the leader of this household, and that trumps everything, all the time, for every reason.

It’s not even noon, and I think I have caned him 100 times. And the bastard keeps coming back for more.

We can’t stop laughing today. We are both wearing hats in the house. His is a Santa hat, mine is an Elf hat. He is naked and collared and he’s wearing a Santa hat. I am still in my pajamas, in my hat.

If we get too close to one another, either one of a few things is going to happen; a fucking or a caning.

Or a deep, lingering kiss. That leads to the bedroom. That leads to a fucking. That results in a caning.

It’s a beautiful fucking day. Literally.