After Dark: Bottom…things & Orange Socks

I will be using the “After Dark” category to identify writings that touch on topics beyond spanking or that may be more sexual for some folks, so people can skip them if they want. There’s no shame in these topics for me, “After Dark” is just a fun term to refer to adult content…within adult content ha!

In a recent post, I mentioned Daniel and I have an “orange socks” rule about asking permission – you know, for me to touch myself. Our permission rule only applies to masturbation/orgasm, but the concept of an “orange socks” rule came from the Usenet news groups alt.sex.spanking (ASS) and soc.sexuality.spanking (SSS). I was too young for ASS but I found SSS (I’ve linked here to the google group archive because it’s easily accessible) when I was a teenager and it’s part of where I got my online start and found stories to read – the newsgroup gave rise to many of the classic spanking authors folks still remember today, and was the origination for Laura’s Spanking Corner. I even became a moderator of the group later on when I was 19. I don’t know who originated this concept, though an older SSS veteran might, but it’s the idea that you can have something basically arbitrary with no real world implications, like wearing orange socks for example, where when you do it, it prompts a disciplinary-style spanking. It’s a way of signaling a need! So I can confess to having an orgasm without permission, to prompt this kind of play.

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R/L: Dear You / being exposed, feeling seen

This was written as (and shared with him first, of course) a “letter” to my husband, processing a spanking he gave me a week ago Saturday. He said he wouldn’t mind if I shared it here and I felt it fit nicely with the anecdote at the end because it’s an illustration of an example of what I am talking about. I’ve experienced a few other moments of this feeling I describe, and maybe I’ll write about them someday.

This is about being seen, not just someone physically noticing you’re there with their eyes, but seeing inside of you, to the core of who you are, your vulnerabilities, your insecurities. Being seen like this is a form of knowing someone. To me, it feels like a form of love, a way of loving (and I don’t mean romantic love).

It’s a retelling – but not in story form or even as a reporting – about an intimate, close, hot, intense, beautiful moment between my husband and I.

o0o

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