Back to Basics

When I started this blog 8 months ago, it was to test a few theories that were being passed around work. The main premise was how a blog can create traffic. The social media guys kept talking about all these little tricks and hacks to generate more traffic while the marketing people kept saying you had to focus on message and carefully craft every word written. I thought they were both full of themselves, but I needed some data to back it up since my expertise is nether technical nor marketing.

Originally I started looking for other sources which had tested various theories on generating blog content in order to drive to visitors and engagement. The following week, I was sitting in a HR seminar on Emotional Intelligence and impactful communication when it struck me that I should just start a blog and do the simple, logical things to grow it.

Choosing a topic took a while since I first considered all the topics related to work, where I have an inherit expertise. I quickly dismissed that course of action, since I didn’t want colleagues to intentionally skew my data then claim it was worthless. Looking beyond work, it struck me that I should enjoy the topic otherwise it would be hard to keep the blog alive. The natural choice was “In Hushed Voices.”

When I first started writing, I tried to make three posts a week. This was a little ambitious, thought it is something I want to return to. I have been working on and off on a couple of the long-running series (Willow Groove in particular) and hope to be able to get a few new parts out soon. Those, coupled with a short (1-3 part) story and a personal thoughts post should allow me to maintain the three posts a week rate I had previously.

That all leads me to a new section of posts I’m going to call “Coffeemaker Conversations,” named after those quiet discussions you have with a close friend over a nice hot cup of coffee (or tea for our English friends).  These will be weekly posts on my opinion, information I find involving the spanking community or just questions for discussion. These are meant to have feedback so please contribute as you like.

Today’s Coffeemaker Conversations

Yesterday I was reading the Wall Street Journal and came across an article about the impact of parental yelling has on long-term child development. One point in the article it mentions the impact of yelling, or harsh verbal discipline, was more detrimental and harder to reverse than spanking, on an individual’s adult romantic relationships. This got me wondering if this same concept applied to adults, particularly married couples. Extrapolating the concept, does an intimate relationship founded on Domestic Discipline principles fare better in the long-term than those founded on verbal discipline principles. Particularly interesting was the long-term impact of the different forms of discipline, especially the finding that the conflict between participants of corporal punishment is eliminated with simple praising of successes which does not occur in verbal discipline situations.

So, what are your thoughts?

Side Note: Original Research Article mentioned in the WSJ article can be found here.

New Years Recollections and Resolutions, Part II

The story begins with New Years Recollections and Resolutions, Part I.

It took me a week to make it up to Adam. I knew I really loved him and couldn’t let me leave me. Or rather, I couldn’t let myself push him away. I used every trick in Cosmo, and by the end of the weekend things were finally good again.

That was years ago, and the whole night had been totally out of character for me. I am no longer that naive girl. I am a mature, professional woman now. And if I only have a single Margarita, I should be OK. I just have to be careful. Or at least not careless.

“So do you want original or I have mango?” Brittney asked, holding up a green and yellow bottle of premade margarita mix.

“Ah, lets try mango.” I replied, trying to sound confident, through I am sure my voice gave away my hesitation. I watched her mix the ingredients in the blender, telling myself I would be ok. I knew I was wrong when the yellow iciness touched my lips. It felt so cold yet warming. Invigorating really.

I slide the glass a reasonable distance in front of me as I tried to hold off taking a second sip. I could only have one and the night was still young. Brittney started going on about their Christmas festivities, which helped distract me from the golden ice. Focusing on her really helped me forget about the margarita, so much so, that I took a second, long sip without thinking about it.

Bethany and Jake arrived as we finished our first glass. Well, actually I finished my first glass. Brittney still had half of her glass left. I wish it was because she was talking most of the time, but truthfully I just downed mine. The second sip burned through every resolution I had made to control my intake of tequila. I enjoyed the sweet nectar dancing across my lips as the icy shards tickled my tongue. It was a winter wonderland for my mouth.

Bethany joined us in the kitchen as Jake went downstairs to join the guys. Glasses were refilled as Bethany asked Britney about some family gossip. I didn’t really care what they were talking about, so long as my glass wasn’t empty.

“You know what we need, MUSIC!” I proclaimed, downing the last gulp of my second margarita.

“Yea!” Bethany and Brittney echoed. Brittney dug out a portable iPod player from the kitchen desk nook as Bethany dug into her purse for her iPod.

“Lets use my iPod. You have horrible taste in music,” Bethany proclaimed sliding her iPod along the counter.

Brittney smirked back, “You just don’t know good music when you hear it.”

“That hillbilly twang stuff is good music?” Bethany shot back playfully.

“Oh just admit you like it. I know you root for team Blake.”

“So, he’s the only hot one on the show.”

I watched the playful banter between sisters evolve I became jealous this time at being left out. I felt this growing urge to add something, anything. I just didn’t know what to add. I was an only child and Adam only had two younger brothers so I felt out of place dealing with a sister. I don’t know why, but I suddenly just shouted, “I’m on team Blake too!”

The kitchen went absolutely silent. Britney and Bethany just stared at me, unsure what to make of my outburst. I could feel their eyes burning holes into my cheeks as I started blushing. Luckily, the tequila saved me, and I suddenly burst out into a giggle, which the sisters quickly joined me in.

With music in the background, the small talk started flowing quickly, with our mixed drinks keeping pace. Where were finishing up the first bottle of premade mix when the conversation started to to get adult orientated.

“That’s like those Cosmo articles on 27 tips for better sex.” Britney remarked.

“Hey! I those articles,” Bethany retorted.

“Just because you have no creativity doesn’t make them good,” Britney replied.

“Ah, everyone gots to have their porn,” I quipped with a tight lipped smile.

“They are not porn!” Bethany shot back, completely ignoring her sister’s slight.

“Sure…” I giggled.

“So what kind of porn do you like?” Brittney asked me, her voice laced with sarcastic mischief.

Had I actually thought before speaking, I would have known that this would be a follow up question. Every L-1 knows not to ask a question that you are not prepared to answer yourself. My professors were sure to drive that point home every chance they got. It went well with the point of do not ask a question for which you do not already know the answer.

“What, cat got your tongue?” Bethany mocked, tipping her glass at her older sister.

I responded with a low growl and a squinting nose. “No, I prefer the erotic type.”

“What a lame answer. I knew you were just a prude.” Bethany laughed.

“I am not!” I blurted out, even though it was a complete lie. I just happen to like things simpler. It is more romantic that way.

“BUULLLLSHITT! I bet you only like missionary and with the lights out!” Bethany laughed.

“I do not! I’ll have you know that Adam and I have sex with the lights on.” I replied as I stood and place my hands on my hips. I was trying to act determined, but the huge grin across my face would not go away. Britney burst out giggling first and Bethany and I were close behind.

We were still giggling when Rick had the nerve to interrupt our girl talk. “Ah, where is the extra dip?” Rick asked from the kitchen doorway. The three of us gals hushed up instantly, causing Rick to slowly look over us. I am sure we looked like we had just been caught in the act of some mischief.

“Oh, we’ll bring it down in a moment, honey,” Britney finally broke the silence.

Rick let out a long sigh before leaving with an, “OK.”

As soon as he turned his back well all covered our mouths, trying to suppress our giggles. He had almost caught us talking about porn, of all things.

We made another pitcher of Margaritas and took it, tortilla chips and the dip down to join the guys downstairs. I had not intended in staying down there for very long, I was just curious as to what they guys were doing. Somehow one thing led to another and Britney put on music over by the pool table.

With a drink in one hand and a good beat filling the room, there was only one thing to do. I tried pulling Adam up to dance with me, but he was more interested in the XBox. All the guys were more interested in the video game than us girls, so we just started dancing without them.

One the second song, Britney noticed Bethany was just standing there while we danced, so she reached out and grabbed her sister’s wrists. A slight pull and Bethany was next to us with Brittney hugging onto her. “Sis, Jake doesn’t seem to approve you standing off like that!” Britney said into her ear.

Bethany opened her mouth to respond, but paused for a moment. Britney took this as a non-response and swung her hand out, and slapped it firmly onto Bethany’s bottom.

“Owe” Bethany cried out, trying to wiggle away from her older sister.

“Oh com’on have some fun!”

“No, let go,” Bethany whined as she wiggled her shoulders about.

A stroke of genius came across me at that moment. Bethany had poked fun at me for being a prude, I now had an opportunity to show how much of a prude she really is. I took a half step sideways so that I was directly next to her. She was still worried about Britney’s bear hug and didn’t even realize when I took hold of her skirt’s zipper. One quick tug and the garment was a pile at her feet. “Who’s the prude now?” I giggled, taking a step back.

“AHH!” Bethany squealed.

Instantly everyone attention was focused on the skirt-less Bethany. Britney let go of her, allowing her to take a couple tangled steps backwards. She quickly covered her front while bending over a little bit. She made a few awkward steps sideways and backwards, trying to cover herself from the guys, though giving me a clear view of her booty. I don’t know what she was trying to hide, because the pink thong did not cover much, especially on the back.

Beyond Bethany, I could tell the guys all had different reactions to my little joke. Rick chuckled a little and tried to hide his amusement. Jake has started to blush a little, probably out of embarrassment at being turned out at his fiance’s embarrassment.

Adam expression through scared me. He clearly looked pissed and he did not make me wait long to find out how mad he was. Once Bethany was redressed, Adam got up and made a beeline for me. The next thing I know, we were halfway up the stairs to the second floor. He checked a couple of doors, finding one locked, a messy guest room in the second and settled for the master bedroom. He paused for a moment at the bed, then continued through the bedroom and into the attached bathroom. He unceremoniously sat on the edge of the bathtub, positioning me in front of his knees.

“I’m sorry,” I whimpered, looking down at my sock covered toes. It felt like I needed to say something.00

“I’m not the one you should be apologizing to, it’s Bethany,” Adam growled.

“I know,” I mumbled.

“You know? You know? Why did you do such a childish thing!”

“I don’t know. I..I…I…sigh. She called me a prude and I, hmm, wanted, hmm, to show her I wasn’t.”

“What! You pulled down her skirt because she called you a prude!”

“Hmmm, I guess,” I mumbled.

“Well, I guess you just earned yourself a spanking!” I knew it was coming ever since I saw his expression, but I wasn’t quite prepared when he flipped me over his lap so that all I could see was the white tile floor.

“Ah! Adam! No!”

SMACK! The intensity at which that first swat burned into by bottom surprised me. Adam had picked up the bathbrush laying next to the tub and started immediately with it. My short experience with Adam’s spankings had not prepared me for the shock that wooden brush of hell delivered. I can still remember those first few swats as if it happened a moment ago. The crisp sting of the initial contact followed by a deep, expansive burn, reaching all the way through my hips. It was a new kind of awful I never want to feel again, but then another swat would arrive.

Anticipation

Anticipation, a single word which means “the wait for the event is worst than the actual event,” or something like that. Yesterday, when I was posting a new story, I happened to check on my stats. Low and behold, I had 99, 342 views. This was a nice surprise, since I thought it was somewhere around 70k. With a little quick math, I realized I would probably break 100,000 views sometime this evening.

Can anyone guess what I’ve done about dozen times today?

Since I worked from home today, I was able to check the stats every hour or so, while I attempted unsuccessfully to avoid work. The time has seemed to drag on and on, inching up one viewer at a time. I know it is a Thursday, but it seems to be taking forever.

Somewhere in the middle of the early afternoon, I became more successful at avoiding work, and came up with a couple nice story plots surrounding the anticipation of waiting to reach a particular milestone. The buildup of having to wait on the inconsistent progress to a milestone. The knowledge that it could happen in the next minute, the next hour or even take another day. Seeing it get closer by a big jump one moment, then no progress for minutes. Yes, it maybe a little diabolical, but isn’t it just corner-time on steroids?

-Side note: As of the publishing of this post, I am 172 views short. Come on West Coast!

New Years Recollections and Resolutions, Part I

This story is a standalone continuation of the Three Ghosts of Halloween. The characters are the same, through it should enjoyable without having read the other story.

“Deck the halls with bows of Holli, Fa La La!…” I hummed along to the music of Jingle Bells as I dug around in my closet looking for something to wear tonight. I don’t know why tune was still in my head, being that Christmas was a week ago. I guess I was just in a festive mood. Tonight was New Year’s Eve and it was time to get my party on. Since becoming an adult, I had become to prefer the New Years celebrations to those of Christmas. Christmas is great and all, but it is a time for family, while New Year’s is a time for friends. The later is just less stressful for me.

I pull the bottom pair of jeans from the stack then give them a good shake. These were my best pair of skinny jeans and I prayed I could still squeeze into them after the holiday food frenzy. I took a deep break as the waist neared to top of my thighs. Releasing my breath, I pulled the jeans up and gave a slight hop. When I landed the waist had cleared by hips and settle into their natural place. I quickly zipped them up before attempting to breath again. I was quite amazed at how easy they went on. Maybe I hadn’t gained as much weight as I had thought.

Next up was a cute top. The first couple options I pulled from the hangers were too “worky” or “cluby.” I wanted something that had an understated sexiness to it. Part of tonight’s fun was going to be teasing Adam all night long before we christened the New Year our special way. I turned around and started on the other side when I pulled out a black cashmere sweater with a mild V-neck. Just the thing get his motor going.

I pulled the sweater over my head and adjusted the front to show a fair amount of cleavage. I moved over to the full length mirror to admire my outfit, “Damn I look hot!” I ran a hand down my body, smoothing out a couple of wrinkles. “Why hadn’t I wore this combo more this winter?” Like a tidal wave, the events surrounding my last wearing of this sweater came back.

I snuck the bags through the backdoor, hoping Adam wasn’t home yet. I had left before him, but I wasn’t sure where he was going, so he could be back already. It would wreck the surprise if he saw his Christmas presents before Christmas. Also, I might have spent a little bit more than I had intended, but the deals were so good.

I tip-toed through our house, like a teenager trying to sneak in after curfew. I had to bump into everything in my path and squeaked every floorboard I could on my way to the master bedroom. I was sure I had made it when I opened the bedroom door only to have the same outcome as most teenagers, being caught.

“Ah, you got home,” Adam said from behind the glow of his laptop. In the low light, I wouldn’t make out much, but he looked a little annoyed from here. “Put away the gifts then we need to have a talk.”

“But..but..but…” I tried defending myself against the unknown accusation.

The next few minutes were a blur. Adam quickly informed me that he knew exactly how much I had spent, and that it was considerably more than we had agreed to spend jointly. Like a thousand dollars more. And that any purchases made for myself would be returned in the morning, plus, he was going to implement our post-Halloween agreement. The next thing I really remember was being face down over his lap as he went to work on my butt. I was squealing from his hand within a minute. When tears started to come he stopped, and began scolding me about my poor spending habits. I have to admit this wasn’t the first time I had spent a little bit too much.

“Ok, stand up,” Adam commanded. I was half expecting him to continue for another 10 minutes of stingy spanks, but he had asked me to get up, like my spanking was all over.

I eased myself off his lap, and immediately started to rub the sting out of my bottom. I barely touched my bottom before he took my wrists and held them together in front of my pussy. “Hey!”

“Not yet, your spanking is even close to being over,” Adam chided as he got up, holding my wrists together with one hand. “I think this is much too serious for a hand spanking.” My heart sank at those words. After the Halloween incident, I had gotten this great idea to look up adult spankings online and spent most of the weekend learning all about the subject as well as domestic discipline and a couple things I wish I could unlearn. The masterful part of my idea was the Discipline Agreement I wrote up and presented to Adam at dinner on Sunday. It basically said he could spank me anytime I was naughty and anyway he deemed appropriate. The thorough fool I am, I provided him examples of misbehaviors and appropriate punishments.

I was spun around and escorted over to the decorative chair we kept in corner of our room. Adam must have pulled it away from the wall, because when he popped me up onto it so I was kneeling, facing the back, I had plenty of room to hold on to the back without bumping my head into the wall. I closed my eyes, waiting for want additional punishment he had in store for me.

I heard it before it’s fiery touch exploded across my bottom. He was using my white leather belt and not holding anything back. In a split second I regretted ever agreeing to be spanked as a second stroke came back. Adam followed my directions exactly, giving me just over dozen horrible strokes while ignoring my pleas for mercy. I was a crying mess when his hug surrounded me and carried me to bed.

“Honey! Where is the bottle of champagne?” Adam’s call from downstairs broke me from my revile. I blinked a couple of times, before noticing in the mirror my hand was rubbing a phantom throb from my bottom. I blushed slightly as I hurried downstairs to find the champagne for him. I had no intention of repeating the Black Friday incident tonight. How could I? We were just going over to our friends for drinks and some games.

It took me only a minute to gather up the champagne, deserts and couple of games we were taking over to Rick and Brittney’s. Once Adam helped me in to my new winter coat, a Christmas present from him, we were off to walk the block and a half to our friend’s house. I had contemplated asking Adam to drive, but the crisp winter’s air felt refreshing. It was quite romantic actually, gazing up at the stars as I held onto my man’s arm. The old fashion light posts lit our path while gentle breezes tried to tickle beneath my pea coat. I felt like I was living in the middle of a romantic movie.

After a brief greeting, Rick took Adam downstairs to show of his new toys. I heard something about XBox before I lost all interest in their conversation. Boys and their toys; things I’ll never understand.

“Do you think we’ll see the guys before midnight?” I asked Brittney as she led the way to the kitchen.

“Yea, the fridge is almost empty in the bar down there. I give them an hour before they come looking for food or beer.”

I chuckled as added, “They can have all the beer.”

“You know it girl. I got big bottle of Jose Silver so we can make margaritas. Let the men have their beer!” Brittney responded, pulling 1.75L bottle of tequila from the counter next to the fridge.

“Margaritas, yikes!” I thought. It tastes so good, and makes me get so bad. I took a quick glance around the counters, looking for some alternative. Anything other than tequila. Wine? Vodka? Whiskey? Nothing was present, and I doubted the fridge would offer anything other than beer. What to do? What should I do? What will I do? Brittney had never seen me after a couple shots of tequila. I actually hadn’t had tequila since that bonfire party Adam dragged me to a couple months after we started dating.

—-

“Hey Babe, what a shot?” Adam asked as he pour some cheap off-brand, tequila into plastic shot glasses.

“Sure!” I grabbed the pink cup and held it high while Rick took a blue one and Adam took a neon yellow.

“Cheers!” I said tapping the guy’s cups then tossed back the shot. The tequila burned in all the good ways. First my throat warmed to its embrace, then a couple gentle tinges in my stomach before I could feel it coursing through my veins. All of a sudden I felt extra alive.

I grabbed the bottle of tequila and poured out another round. I threw mine back before the guys had their plastic cups in the air. The second one was better than the first. The third was even better. We ran out of tequila on the third and Adam volunteered to go get more, and some much needed chasers.

The music felt so good at that moment I just had to dance.

I placed a knee on the edge of the table and tried to propel myself onto it, but my lack of balance was sending me backwards. Luckily, some gentleman saw my problem and provide a little help, and with big hand planted firmly on my ass, I was standing on the table. I let the music do its thing, guiding my hips to the beat as I raised my hands above my head.

Eventually the rock song ended and was replaced by a more upbeat song, “Opps I did it again!” Brittney’s music video shot through my mind, as if it was a personal challenge. I could show her sexy. That little Disney star didn’t know sexy if it was looking her in the face. I closed my eyes as my hips popped with the beat.

My pleated skirt joined my hips, swaying to and fro as the hem danced it’s way up my thighs. The cool night air seeping into the previously clammy confides invigorated me. I just started to increase my gyrations when the song ended and a new, quicker beat song started. For a moment, I was tempted to get down. The singular repetition of snare and bass was sapping my energy. Tequila convinced me to give it a try, and I began putting out my left leg an tapping along with the beat. Two measures later the guitar joined in and recognized the song.

“Sweat Baby! Sweat Baby!” the lyrics blasted from the speakers, encouraging me pantomime the story being portrayed. ” Imitated brushing sweet from my brow, will keeping my hips swaying with the beat. “Put your hands, down my pants, and I bet you’ll feel nuts!” I slipped my right hand down the front of my skirt while making a mock surprise face and cover my mouth with my left hand.

“Come on, get down from there!” Adam yelled over the music. I swept my hand around to brush him off, but depth perception had left my vision at least a shot ago. My hand missed him by two feet and instead getting him to move back, provided him with an anchor to hold me.

“No..” I continued to sway along with the beat which by now only existed in my head. “Let maaa danccce!”

“Hey!” came a collective protest from every guy around. Adam ignored them all, and swept his left arm around my knees and hoisted me into his arms. I squealed in surprise and started wiggling about, trying to free myself. It was at that moment I realized a real problem with dating a linebacker; he is expected to physically stop men three times my size out on the field. I have no chance of escaping his grip if he doesn’t want to let me go. And I am fine with that fact.

Adam took only a couple of steps before gently setting my feet upon the ground. He had thoughtfully assumed I would not like gravity at that moment and set me next to the wall. I held onto the wall until the floor decided to quit titling and stay still. I was then able to look at Adam in the eye, and tell he was quite upset.

“Awe, don’t you like me dancing sexy?” I purred as I ran a finger down his chest.

“Not like some 2-dollar whore!” Adam snapped.

“I am not some whore!” I responded, trying to stand upright. The alcohol was having an effect on my balance, but I knew I could overcome it.

“What you were doing up there sure looked like it!”

“Fuck you!” I waved my right index finger about before landing it on his chest. “If you like it, you can find another girl!” I gave a slight push, turned and walked off to find a guy who liked my dancing. I have no idea how I walked away, but somehow accomplished it.

Ice + Tree = Two Weeks MIA

I need offer my apologies for the lack of posts over the last 2 weeks. I had intended on putting up 3 new stories (well 3 more parts to current ones) however a nice little ice storm decided to eliminate power then internet access before Christmas. Since then I have been playing catch up with work so something had to fall by the wayside. Since I’m deeply in love with my bed, writing had to take a second row seat. I’m still going to publish the New Year’s story, even if it is a couple of days late. Better late than never….(things a sub never got away saying:)

Happy New Year and may it be full of spankings. Especially the good kind 🙂