"Are those 'ows' real 'ows'?" my top asks in concern, resting the tip of the cane on the bed.

"No. Well, yes, they're real as in it really hurts, but it's the difference between owwww!" (high pitched squeal) "and 'Gerroff, you fucker'." I twist around and look at him through my eyelashes. "Basically if I'm still being cute, I'm consenting."

"Aha." He smiles, and picks up the cane.

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It was D's birthday this week. Birthday spankings aren't generally on the menu when it's his turn to be spoiled - they aren't exactly his core erotic theme. But we did both take the day off work so we could devote it to pleasures of the flesh. Good food, lots of kinky sex, and a certain amount of lounging around on the sofa... the perfect self-indulgent day.

I came to his place the night before with a bag of toys. No spanking implements, true - but we were still going to have a good time.

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