(whistling quietly to myself)
("...da da dah da, the girl from Ip-a-nema goes walkin'.....")
Oh! You're back? Good.
So now, three or four weeks later, it's my turn to add my experiences to the list. (I never claimed to be punctual.) There are two tales that I can recall.
The first one happened while I was in Chicago attending a Crimson Moon spanking party. Now, I must admit, when I go to Chicago for these parties, I never really see anything of Chicago. I go from O'Hare airport to the hotel to my room to the hospitality suite where the party takes place. The weekend is spent in the hotel. Maybe I'll walk across the street to a restaurant, but that's the extent of my sightseeing. When the event is over, I take a cab back to O'Hare.
This time, some of us decided to get out of the hotel and see a little bit of the city. We were led by a few of our members who lived in Chicago and knew the town well. We went down by the Navy Pier, did some browsing, some people did some shopping and then we had reservations to eat lunch at this charming place:
The description one of our Chicago people gave to me for Dick's Last Resort is that it's a place where the waiters (and waitresses) are deliberately rude to the guests. Not rude in a nasty way, mind you--it's done with a sense of humor. On their website, Dick's describes the waitstaff as "energetic and surly". Ask for a menu, and your waiter will be only to happy to point to where they are and tell you to be sure to get enough for everyone at your table. Leave your chair for a minute, and when you come back your waiter might be sitting there and nibbling on one of your french fries. Dick's aspires to be a dive, and I imagine one day they'll get there. And the food is quite good, in case you were wondering. There's a Dick's Last Resort in, oh, about 7 cities nationwide. If there's one near you, give them a try. http://www.dickslastresort.com
Apparently one of our gabby group leaders informed our waiter exactly what Chicago Crimson Moon was all about. The next thing we knew, the P.A. system was activated with the announcement, "Ladies and gentlemen, dining here with us this afternoon is the Chicago Crimson Moon group, a group specializing in adult spanking. So everybody behave yourselves, or we're going to turn them loose." This prompted a few laughs, along with some questions from folks at nearby tables. Two of the ladies sitting near us were from Minnesota, and sounded rather intrigued. I should have gotten their names and numbers!
We finished the meal and were getting ready to leave. Chris--the lady sitting across from me--put on her coat. In doing so, the bottom of the coat swung across the table, colliding with her half-filled tumbler of Coke. The glass tipped over and the liquid started flowing in my direction. Luckily, I saw it happen and quickly pushed my chair back from the table. A couple of us threw our napkins at the mess, hoping to stem the tide....and it worked. The napkins did what napkins are supposed to do, and no one got liquid spilled on them.
Chris came around to my side of the table, leaned down, and said she was sorry for spilling her drink. Well, I was already pushed away from the table, so I said, "Not good enough", grabbed her arm. Pulling her over my knee, I gave her bottom about 10 swats right there in the restaurant! (She later told me that had always been a fantasy of hers, and she thanked me for making it come true.)
She stood back up--and then our waiter came over, grabbed her around the waist, and added a few swats of his own! It was all done with exaggerated facial expression and arm movement, played for comic effect, but he did get in a decent swat or two! We all laughed, and I don't think Chris minded in the least. I believe one of our group leaders gave the waiter our card and invited him to attend one of our parties, although I don't believe he ever did.
(photo from the former MSN group Public Spanking)
The second story happened during summer many years ago. I had been exchanging some e-mails with a lady who lived in Northern Minnesota, and she and a friend had made plans to come down to the Twin Cities and see the Mall of America. They were going to stay at a hotel near the Mall, and she suggested that we get together for a cup of coffee and maybe some spanking play.
Her friend was going to meet up with someone she'd been talking to on-line, as well. They planned to have dinner and take in a movie before heading back to the hotel, which would leave the room free for us to play in. At least, it was supposed to work that way.
I met the lady, we had a beverage or two and talked for a bit, and then decided it was time for her to be spanked. We went back to the hotel room--and discovered that her friend had hit it off really well with the man she met, and they had decided to skip dinner and the movie and were back in the hotel enjoying each other's company. The room was not available. They did offer to share the space, but frankly, the idea made me uncomfortable. We decided to go somewhere else.
This was easier said than done. The obvious solution would have been to go to my apartment, but I was worried about nosy neighbors--I'd never done any spanking in my apartment before, and didn't know if they would ignore the sounds, or call the cops, or what. So my apartment was out. And that left......what?
Have you ever just driven around aimlessly in a city that you're not familiar with and look for someplace private enough for a spanking session? I have to admit, I don't have a lot of nerve when it comes to something like that. I know a lovely couple in Texas who are absolutely fearless when it comes to Public Spanking--anywhere, anytime is pretty much their motto. I don't know how they do it, but more power to them!
So we drove.....and drove.....and drove. Every place I could think of had way too many people around. I found a park with a small lake that I hoped would have an empty bench or two that we could put to use, but there were bicyclists, roller skaters, people out walking. No good.
It was starting to get dark, and I was about ready to give up and head for my apartment when passed a small parking area by a place called Shingle Creek. There were no other cars parked there, and it looked like there was a path that lead to some privacy. I parked the car, we got out and started walking toward the water.
This, too, turned out to be a disappointment. We went over a small rise and were still within sight of the car when the path ended abruptly. Beyond was a small stretch of dirt and mud that led down to the shore of a fairly good-sized pond. Houses lined either side of the water in the distance. It wasn't the best of circumstances, but we decided it was probably the best we were going to do. I told her to turn around and put her hands on her knees. I scolded her briefly for a few things that had come up in our e-mails, and then I started to spank her.
The sound of my hand connecting with her bottom carried out over the water with a bit of an echo-y effect. I think one of us commented on it, and then we just concentrated on the spanking. After the warm-up, I pulled her sweatpants down and started laying the swats on a little harder. Then her panties came down, and my palm landed with a with a resounding whack! And then we both heard it--probably the one sound no spanker or spankee wants to hear......
We both immediately got the giggles. There was a duck on the pond, somewhere!
I gave her bottom another spank, and again we heard, "Quack!" Everytime I swatted her bottom, the sound echoed over the water, and the duck answered. It was just like a call and response: "Whack" "Quack" "Whack" "Quack" "Whack" "Quack"
That's when I noticed something else--the sound was getting closer! Can a bottom being smacked sound like a duck mating call? I decided it might be a good idea to bring the session to a close.
There were a few more swats, a few more quacks, and then came the sound of flapping wings. Apparently our aquatic friend had figured out that, whatever was causing the noise, it wasn't a potential mate, and it was time to get the heck out of Dodge! One final salvo of spanks, and we decided to do the same.
She pulled her panties and sweatpants back up and we started walking back to the car, laughing amongst ourselves. As we topped the rise, someone in a white shirt went by on a bicycle. He didn't stop, didn't even look our way, but my first impression was that it was a cop on Park patrol. We had finished up just in the nick of time.
Maybe the duck had called in a complaint.....?