The Spelling Bee Sting

BabyMan and I have never gotten into the facebook phenomenon. A few years back when we first heard of it, we went in, created a page, and never found the time or the inclination to return. It's a lovely tool in which to make and maintain connections with people one would otherwise lose contact with, but we've resigned ourselves to the old fashioned method of cultivating connections with people we love through physical contact, the telephone, and maybe an email once in a while. The new practice of calling someone you hardly know a "friend" is still a little foreign to us, and for now we've chosen to remain in the dark ages.

About a month ago I was surfing around the internet, and came across a site called SpankoLife. It advertises itself as the "Facebook for Spankos." I thought the whole concept was hysterical, and as my curiosity piqued I just had to go in and take a tour. I signed up for a membership and tooled around for about 20 minutes. It was just as it had described itself. There were thousands of spanko personalities with their own pages who invite each other to become their "Friends." There is a forum, an area for videos, a chat room, others can visit your page and "write on your wall," (whatever that means). You can sign up for different groups such as BDSM or Domestic Discipline, Age Play, F/M discipline, etc. There's an area for announcements and upcoming events like spanking parties all over the country. It was like walking through a spanking carnival.

While it was fun to take a look, it didn't take me long to realize that nothing in this site was for me, and I exited, with no intentions of returning.

So a few days ago, I'm going through my favorite blogs, when I noticed that a fellow blogger mentioned in her post that she had recently joined SpankoLife. I hadn't given it any more thought except for the occasional email from a spanko requesting to be my "friend." I decided to go back in and take another look around. I hadn't been there 2 minutes when a window popped up in the lower right hand corner with one word on it:

Hello

Oh, how cool! People can Instant Message each other in here. I wrote, Hi

I like your Username.

It's my husband's pet name for me,  I shot back. Good. Let this guy know I'm married, things will remain fairly tame. I saw that his username indicated the state he was from. Coincidently, also my home state. I'm from your neck of the woods, I wrote. What town are you in?

That kicked off a conversation that lasted almost 2 hours. At one point BabyMan walked in and asked what I was doing.

"I'm talking to this guy on SpankoLife," I said.

"Oh yeah? What are you talking about?"

"He's an Engineer living ten minutes from my home town. I used to do recruiting work for the pharmaceutical companies in his area. I bet I probably have his resume in the computer." I thought the coincidence was a hoot. I was excited to find a connection, however remote.

"Do you know his real name?"

"No. Don't want to ask. I'd feel obligated to give him mine," I said.

"Good thinking," he said, and left the room after reminding me that we were going to a play that evening and leaving in about an hour.

I continued with my conversation as I enjoyed a cursory, superficial exchange with a total stranger.

Until...

The conversation turned to a sexual context. I became a little tense as my cyber-companion asked questions that began to cross the line into intimacy. Suddenly I was torn between wanting to keep my new "friend" and cutting him off to maintain a reasonable distance and propriety. He had been perfectly civil and courteous, but his last question to me had suddenly removed the mask of modesty and teetered on the edge of titillating. Okay, I mean what was I expecting? I was in a site for spankos, and the subject of sex was going to eventually come up.

I was caught up in the anonymity and the excitement of talking to a stranger with such openness and candor. There was certainly no fear of ever meeting him. I began to give him what he wanted: a detailed description of a sexual encounter involving implements of punishment and…

And then BabyMan walked into the room.

"You still talking to that guy?" he asked.

I looked at him, then back down at my screen. Oh my God, what the hell am I doing? I felt my heart start to beat faster. I knew that if BabyMan were having this conversation with another woman, I'd be furious.

"Uh huh," I choked out.

"What are you talking about now? I heard you laughing a few minutes ago."

"Oh... “ Holy shit, was I laughing? "Nothing." My voice was cracking, I couldn't look him in the eye. He could tell that I was nervous about something. He sat down next to me on the couch, and peered at my laptop. But before he could focus on the conversation, I suddenly hit the escape button, and the chat window disappeared.

"What'd you do that for?"

"I didn't. The chat system in that site keeps kicking me out,” I lied. “We must have lost each other 20 times in the last hour."

I felt my face become flushed, hoping that my cyber-buddy wouldn't make another entry. If he did, the chat window would reappear with the entire conversation intact. I immediately exited out of the site, closed my laptop and attempted to get up from the couch.

"Just a minute..."

I froze.

"I want to know why you ended that conversation when I came over here."

"I didn't. I told you, the chat system keeps dying."

He stared at me the way he does when he's trying to search for the truth in my eyes. He knew I was lying. He always knows. "There's something you didn't want me to see, and I want to know what it was."

I laughed nervously and looked away from him. He remained stoic as he held me captive for the next five minutes. I dodged his questions and maintained my innocence as he cross examined me with all the agility of a litigating attorney. The bottom line, he had the burden of proof, and since there was too much reasonable doubt, I was acquitted.

Frustrated, he finally left for the shower, and I sat breathing hard and trying to hold my heart inside my chest.

I eventually got up and went to my closet to pick an outfit for our evening out. After I was dressed, I sat on the living room couch and stared at the floor. What had I just done? I was having an inappropriate conversation with a man and then lied right to my husband's face about it. We were on our way to a major production in the city. I had been looking forward to it for weeks, and now I was sinking into the abyss of shame and guilt. In our BS days, I would have rejoiced in the thought that I got away with lying to BabyMan with no consequences. Now it just felt...Wrong. Sickening. Ugly.

When BabyMan had finished dressing, he came into the living room to put on his shoes. "What's wrong?" he asked.

As I looked up at him, he was surprised to find tears in my eyes. "I'll never go back into that site again, I swear, " I sniveled. "I'm so sorry."

"Sweetie, you can go into that site if you want. I'm not trying to police you. I just want you to be honest with me. If you start doing things behind my back, we're going to get into dangerous territory.  If I start to think I can't trust you..."

My head snapped up. "YOU CAN trust me."

"I know. But if you lie to me how long do you think that'll last?"

I put my head in my hands and started to cry. I never wanted to test his faith in my honesty. Not at this stage of the game. After a moment I felt him touch my shoulder. I looked up and he had his hand extended, beckoning me to take hold of it. I grabbed on to it and stood up. He walked me over behind the couch and told me to bend over the back. What the hell, I wasn't going to protest this. I didn't have a leg to stand on. I bent over the back of the couch and placed my hands on the cushions and waited. He left the room, and came back with the paddle. I closed my eyes tight as I felt him lift my skirt and pull my panties down below my sit spot. With as much dignity and elegance as I could muster, I stayed as still as possible as he assaulted my bottom with enough force to make my knees buckle as he lectured me on the importance of integrity and honesty.

After about 10 swats, he told me that I was going to get a swat for every letter in the word, TRUST, and that I was to spell it out.

“T,” (WHAP!) I felt the paddle push the tears through my eye sockets. “R,” (WHAP!) these were so much harder than I ever imagined. “U,” (WHAP!) I started wailing and couldn’t get the last 2 letters out.

“Come on, Baby, it’s almost over,” he whispered.

I collected myself, took a deep breath… “S,” (WHAP!) I screamed and bolted upright. He gently put his hand on my back and guided me back over the couch.

“T,” I finally blurted out.

Needless to say... I won't be lying to BabyMan anytime soon. The stupid part about all of this is that it was never necessary to lie to him in the first place.