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Nothing tragic or fatal, just a lack of new and interesting anecdotes and a hesitance to post fluffy crap just for the sake of posting. Then I had something to write about. This much is true. The reasons for the absence of photo proof of my day-to-day doings are pretty simple :. I actually have to look for the damn thing half the time when I want to use it, and even when I find it, have to turn it ON before use.

Vanity precludes me from showing the world what I look like when I wake up in the morning. With that all said, each person is entitled to his or her opinion s , and I hope that the poster of the originally referenced comment understands that I am entitled to mine. Everybody has one — a perspective, I mean. Not really. Tougher than usual, by my pretty tough standards.

We lost my dear paul to an icky and awful illness and an even ickier set of circumstances…. I started to list a few of my other grievances from the past year, but nothing else can or should follow that, so enough said. The contest ended around mid-September last year, and I was proud of the money we raised in such a short amount of time. That means that the people who originally participated in the fundraiser have CONTINUED to re-loan their original donations, again and again, to the tune of an additional dollars!

Really hard. We can look at ourselves naked in the bathroom mirror and shout it at the tops of our lungs, and we can usually manage it if someone asks us whether we want a fried egg on our hamburger, but barring those simple examples the word becomes more and more difficult to say. Then we complain about it and hold it against the other person.

Did you help someone move when it was really the last thing you wanted to do? And we missed it. The above question is for US, not for them. Why is it so hard for us to choose ourselves in the equation and simply demur? We automatically assume that the other party will take offense at our use of the word, and godforbid we should offend anyone.

Heavens to Betsy! Learn to say no. Learn to accept that the way another person reacts to your use of the word is up to THEM, not you. We cannot control what other people do; we can only control what we do. But thanks anyway. You have no responsibility to assholes. For them, only one answer will suffice :. Yes, Virginia, there are Other Things.

Anyone with any sense, or anything at ALL better to do, will choose to turn their attentions elsewhere right about now. What started as an ongoing water line issue has turned into an all-out Major Pain in the Ass, replete with fully-plastic-ed living area and garage-accessible bathroom. They removed the WALL downstairs, between the garage and water closet.

About average, come to think of it.. In other news, we almost went on a short vacation last week. Which, in retrospect, was better than nothing. They had a nice shady porch. Something about the transmission, according to the nice man in the triple a tow truck. All this fun stuff would drive some people nuts. Lucky for us, we thrive on a Good Challenge.

So, the place will be getting a new coat of paint and the car will be getting a new tummy or something, and we will be getting lots of spanking done in the meantime…upstairs. In other parts of the world: My family are having a mini-reunion of sorts. Since where I come from you can practically saddle those things and ride them, that usually trumps all.

I miss the flowers, and the food, but I do NOT miss the bugs, or the snakes, or the overly-familiar raccoons. Now I will entertain you with what is, in my estimation, one of the cutest things ever. Try to ignore the not-so-subliminal message to purchase the advertised brand of cat food. Lake Mead used to be this big giant body of water, all held back steadfastly by wondrous Hoover Dam, supplying life-giving water to not only the Las Vegas Valley but large parts of central and southern California.

Now that damn dam is holding back a muddy puddle. And something else about Harrison Ford growing almonds or was it avocados? Lots and lots of us, living in places that are lush with greenery and dripping with cement ponds that are, in fact, meant to be covered in sand, scrub, and skinny snakes. Most of the gnarly water waste goes on at the dozens of golf courses surrounding the valley, and in our very own front yards.

My neighbors have pomegranate trees and as green a gigantic-pool-surrounding-backyard as you can grow any wet place in the country. Why do so many people want to live here? Why are there nearly 2 million people squeezed into a valley that used to be home to a handful of tribes? We hit a seizure-inducing a couple days ago; that was the same day the air conditioning went out. I felt a little bad that he had to get so hot in order to make us cool again, but the cats are creatures of leisure and sacrifices must be made.

Speaking of the cats, Mister Pancakes is still feeling pretty crummy and would like everyone to leave him alone. This would piss anyone off, and he is duly offended. Contained within the shockingly-intricate workings of the mac…email. If you find yourself among those clinging to the handrail of unreturned messages, hair ravaged by the winds of waiting, you are not alone. Anything is possible during a storm. Reserve general anecdotes for one, nice, long email — rather than three to five.

My most recent post below was created and posted in less than ten minutes. After having spent very little time perusing spanking online of late busy busy! Pandora has, time and again, produced some of the most beautiful spanking content available. Does that make any sense to you whatsoever? Yeah, me either. Dreams of Spanking videos are still available, for the time being, on Clips4Sale.

Go to the studio now — clips4sale. Remember how intimidating is was to approach other people and make friends? Most of us do. Those of you who like to read as much as I do know that sating our need for the written word can get a bit pricey. Take a minute. Disrespectful Prisoner Paddled to Tears. All three volumes of Sternwood Academy are available, along with the specially priced! To see them all, have a click HERE. Life has dealt us another blow, in the form of another too-early ending, and I am again left with the opportunity to share with the world the story of a great and wonderful friend.

I know that I am not alone when I tell you that this man will be missed, and I know that the others among us who were lucky enough to know him are grieving today, too. If you knew Remo and are reading this, you have my deepest condolences and love. This is going to be another of those posts where I give my opinion on some things.

Internet piracy, doncha know. Proactivity, rather than preaching. Well, maybe. It was right there, on YouTube for free, so I watched it. And guess what? I did not send the creators of 50 First Dates a check for 3. Did I participate in internet piracy? Should the makers of the movie come to my house and shake me down for a few bucks, just to keep things on the up and up? And more importantly, they KNOW that some folks steal; they also know that lots of folks, when confronted with an easy, free, in-your-face option, will likely sit back with a cold beer and watch Joe Dirt on Putlocker rather than paying to download it from Amazon or something.

The concept that my business could be irrevocably damaged by internet piracy of my video content is somewhat ridiculous. If occasional or even regular, repeated theft caused businesses to fail, as a singular cause, no company would be able to sustain business for any amount of time whatsoever. Remember the peppermints? EVERY business owner deals with theft, and every one should have ways of keeping it to a minimum.

Go ahead, admit it. Even the big porno companies are obviously still doing a booming business in spite of enormously high piracy figures. Because there are over 8 billion people on the planet, most of them have internet connections, and most of them like porn. Yes, piracy is an issue with which we producers must deal. Do me a favor:. Here, in literally no particular order, are the current available scenes from Spanking Court and Sternwood Academy.

Longtime friends and spanking video enthusiasts will remember fondly some of my first professional spanking videos, made with our friends at Spanking Court, and later Sternwood Academy. What made it all even better was that we, to a person, had an amazingly fun time throughout every single shoot.

Many of my friends and playmates have lamented the absence, and honestly, so have we. You see, at the outset, I was not the one doling out the spankings — oh no! I was a bothersome, troublemaking girlfriend and neighbor from hell who was regularly hauled in front of the Judge for some infraction or other. And somehow, I never managed to talk my way out of Sentencing. You guessed it. And Michael was always happy to oblige whatever the Judge ordered.

Arguing, smart-mouthing, twisting and laughing and doing everything except kicking most of the time shackles …I was a pain in the ass. And even that was a blast, every time. Eventually, after spending a week in the Spanking Court clink, I saw the error of my ways and was given the post of Court Bailiff. In this capacity, I kept defendants in line during the court proceedings, assisted them in disrobing, and affected the shackling of inmates to the discipline benches before leaving Michael to mete out their sentences.

Throughout the years, Michael and I ended up giving some pretty damn hard spankings for Spanking Court.. Then Sternwood Academy was born. Surrounded by naughty schoolgirls we were during these shoots — knee socks and tartan as far as the eye could see — and again Michael and I took up the dubious task of keeping all these bad girls in line, he as Coach Michaels and I as naturally instructor Ms.

The things that private school girls get up to would likely shock you all, but luckily they were all captured on film:. This is especially great news since many of you may never have had the opportunity to see them the first time around…and boy, did you miss a lot. Between random minor illness, an enormous workload a bit more on that in a second , and a continuing inability to clone myself, I find myself with less time — which is strange because I know for a fact that there are still 24 hours in every single day.

In the meantime, please exercise your patience muscles and, if at all possible, refrain from writing an email or two to express your sympathy at my behind-ed-ness…I promise you it will not help. Yep, you read right. Quit your bitching. We all get free passes on the big stuff, every time, and rightfully so. We are all stressed out. We all have aches and pains. Everyone experiences disappointment.

By the law of averages, the person next to you is unhappy just as frequently as you. Does that mean that they want to hear all about your daily bitchlist? What good does it do the general consciousness to unfetter ourselves at every opportunity — splash our bile and venom on unsuspecting bystanders, loved ones and friends?

What, you have something better to do? Something to lose in the endeavor? Okay, moving on. Every day — hell, every hour! Recently, though, after a number of big changes some great and some decidedly not, as is life , I find myself again interested in mingling with the other end of the paddle, so to speak.

Dana Kane gets spanked sometimes, please feel free to avert your eyes. And feel equally free to keep any negative commentary to yourself, as with much love I could not care less whether or not you approve. For more spanking videos, preview photos, scene description, and join links, visit: DanaKaneSpanks.

Individual downloadable spanking video scenes also available on my Clips4Sale , Scolding and SpankingLibrary studio page. Word List. Search Area. Either print the word search and do it the old fashioned way — or save the Search Area image above and open it in your photo editor to use the highlighter tool on your computer.

And yes, I made it extra hard by setting all the letters to lowercase. You know you deserve it. Put it in the comments area here on the blog, as my inbox is stuffed. Besides, everyone else could probably use the diversion too. Is it okay for me to grieve openly my loss, attend your bedside, and offer my condolences to your family?

Keep in mind that the following are my experiences, feelings, and actions. My paul died a while ago. Hold on.. I met paul less than a year after I arrived in Los Angeles, around His initial email was clear and respectful; he was not into spanking at all — in fact, far from it — he was a foot fetishist also interested in masochism and humiliation. This was agreeable to him and we planned our first meeting.

We got along splendidly; while I admit enjoying the hitting and stomping more than the foot worship it takes a little getting used to , we had a great conversation after our playtime and he seemed to have a million really cool and interesting stories to tell. As our second meeting approached, paul emailed to say that he was sorry to say that he would be unable to keep our appointment because he was on a fixed income and was, essentially, broke. I should mention here that paul was 65 or 66 when we met.

After a little back and forth, he agreed. That was the first of several times that I saw paul cry. He fantasized that she would step on his hands with those lovely shoes while telling him how very bad he was. It was a preoccupation which followed him fully into his adult life, and which he continued to keep secret for decades. Why, he wanted to know, was he so fucked up? He was certain that no woman would ever love him enough to understand.

During our playtimes, he was required to call me Mistress, and I was just as stern as you all know me capable. And paul was capable of taking quite a lot of physical discomfort even though he barely tolerated the occasional spanking I insisted on foisting upon his unwilling backside …we had fun. I got to wear lots of really sky-high heels and lead him around on a leash — it was absolutely silly and serious at the same time, in all the best ways.

We all — paul, Michael, and I — enjoyed these visits immensely. He also did a lot of little fix-it projects around the house for me. Once, I almost missed the only bus leaving L. I cannot stress enough how much I loved that about him — his constant enthusiasm and willingness to help even in the face of glaring inability to execute the task at hand.

This was highly unusual as paul had a tendency to email three to five times a day, every day, and never less than once. He was constantly writing to tell me of his day, his thoughts, how much he loved me…and to send me his doodling; sketching out his fetish fantasies as quickly as they came. Over the years I received hundreds if not thousands of little pieces of art via email, and I always asked that he bring me the originals when he visited next. He always did, and I now have possession of what is quite possibly the most interesting and diverse collection of tiny foot fetish art ever compiled.

I plan to build a dedication page from which to share many of these wonderful, quirky, excellent little treasures with the world at large. He deserves that much. Turned out paul had gotten short of breath while out with his guy pals one afternoon and ended up in ER. Did he want to go ahead with treatment anyway, they asked him? He said yes and began what was to be his final fight.

When I received an out-of-the-ordinary text message from him saying he was in hospital, I immediately picked up the phone to call him. Grudgingly, I agreed to stay home. After having been released from the hospital, he did indeed follow up with all those doctors, precious weeks sliding by while everyone decided who was going to pay for what and sending him for blood work what seemed like about a million times.

After a few weeks he finally started a round of chemotherapy, requiring him to drive or be driven to the treatment facility each time for several hours, then home again for several days of hardcore sickness. Refusing my offer to come and stay with him at home, paul set about trying to go through the chemotherapy process by himself, with the occasional visit from previously-mentioned friends.

It was awful but not at all surprising when, after another somewhat long period of quiet, I received another text from him — back in the hospital. He spent another few days in hospital, getting stabilized, only to be sent back home alone again. We were in touch as much as he could be, and I checked in on him often daily, always offering to hop on a plane and come take care of his old sick ass. He always said no, he was doing good.

We both knew he was lying, but who was I to call him on it at such a time? Once more he said okay. And once more they set in motion the routine of home, hospital, home, hospital, which inevitably occurs when someone who is already dying is wracked with poison. This time, his stay in the hospital was longer, and the prospect of his release even more forbidding — how could he possibly care for himself?

This time I did the pushy thing — I told paul that I was coming, was going to take care of him, cook for him, and make him comfortable. He flat out refused. He was ashamed of himself, and thereby, me. On top of the already near-paralyzing pain of impending loss, I now felt absolutely abandoned in my grief, and by the very person for whom I was grieving. I was a little pissed at him for that. Because of his own fears and shame, paul took from all of us the ability to say goodbye.

Neither I nor Michael were given the chance to hug him or properly express our love and immense gratitude for our time with him, and paul was sadly and sorely without the people who absolutely loved him most in this world at the end of his life. His choice. A terrible one in my opinion, and having to live with it, I think, gives me the right to disagree with him. I loved paul, so I let him be alone. All the events in our lives are processes, and this is now one of mine.

Most people take their secrets to the grave, and my paul was no exception. Anyone want to make my month? The three actually five stories with the most votes, below, each receive an unlimited 30 day membership to DanaKaneSpanks. Sister Dana and The Leprechaun The Resort See how that works?

MY software screws up and even more of YOU win — you should all hope this happens more often. Every single one of the other winning entries will receive a spanking video download of their choice from my current catalog.

All story entrants will receive an email containing details on prize redemption in the coming week. All you who have been paying attention, take a moment to use the comment feature to tell me what you remember the top three stories to be. Although it was a bit cool, and he was completely distracted by everything going on around him, he did manage to wade his old creaky butt out into the shallows a few times:.

Pretty view from the hotel balcony. And lucky for everyone visiting, the whole London-Bridge-tarred-head-on-a-pike thing has been replaced by chi-chi restaurants and kayaking retirees:. Probably for the best…. For new content after April 6, just scroll down past the poll. Mary was a young college student at the ripe age of nineteen. She attended a small out of state college which carried a high reputation in mathematics and science.

Mary was an excellent student who studied hard and performed well on tests. Her favorite class was biochemistry. Which was taught by a tall and beautiful female professor named Professor Varney. Professor Varney was a sharp witty woman with a genuine liking towards Mary. Mary being the intelligent young lady that she was could definitely recognize the contrasting attention Professor Varney would give Mary verse the other students in her class.

Mary took delight in this special attention and looked forward to the days of the week when she had her biochemistry class. Mary began sitting in the very front of the room. Choosing to sit right dead in front of Professor Varneys podium. And as the semester went by Professor Varney continued her unquestionable preference she had towards Mary.

Mary began to dote more and more with this unusual type of attention. And in return she began fantasizing about Professor Varney on a consistent basis. Being that Mary had been a spanko since the day she could remember. Mary longed for Professor Varney to put her over her knee and spank her for all the naughty things she had done in her past from the time she was a little girl. One day as Mary was sitting outside on the campus lawn she was approached my Professor Varney.

What has happened all of a sudden to my top student? Would you be able to make it? Varney said. Mary again shook her head and watched in awe as Professor Varney walked away. Mary dressed in a classy tight black outfit and decided to leave her kinky hair down for once in a great while. Mary wanted to purposefully show up late to see if Professor Varney was actually being serious about spanking her for being tardy.

Although Mary was a bonafide spanko since the beginning of her time, she unfortunately had not yet been spanked. As Mary reached the Golden Eggroll in the middle of Chinatown she immediately saw Professor Varney waiting outside the front door. Mary waved innocently as she approached the door. But too bad for me. I was looking forward to having you over my knee.

Professor Varney then opened the door for Mary and they both went inside together. That was it! Mary knew now for sure that this could actually be the first opportunity in her life to get spanked. Mary and Professor Varnney sat in a corner booth of the small restaurant away from all the shuffle and bustle.

There Professor Varney did most of the talking. Mary was mummified by Professor Varneys presence. And the only thing she could think of was getting spanked by this ultimate fantastic women named Professor Varney. Can you do that for me? Mary shook her head yes. Suzanne smiled. Mary liked having that assurance.

It made her feel safe. She smiled at Suzanne and stood up. Or I will have to spank you. I promise. And off she went. As Mary washed her hands she looked in the mirror and began thinking that all of this was too good to be true. Mary finally knew what she really wanted for the very first time in her young adult life. She wanted Suzanne. But what Mary did know for sure was that she wanted Suzanne to give her the spanking she always longed for.

As Mary exited the bathroom and began hustling back to the table something shiny caught her eye. There, standing practically right in front of her, was a large golden Buddha. The Buddha statue was surrounded by shiny silver quarters and a basket of Asian fruit at its knees. Mary slowly walked up to the Buddha. She noticed the statues wide naked belly sticking straight out at her. A tall Chinese chef saw Mary standing in front of the Buddha. Suddenly the chef came out from behind the kitchen entry way and stood next to Mary.

He told Mary to rub the Buddhas belly and make a wish. Mary looked at the Chinese chef in amazement. Mary slowly brought one of her hands up from her right side. Her fingers moved back and forth and round and round. As she rubbed the belly of the Buddha Mary made her wish. She wished for Suzanne to spank her. To spank her hard and thoroughly. In a way that would bring her to tears. The way she had always fantasized about. That very same night Mary returned home from the the Chinese restaurant.

She was sad and she lied in her bed all alone. Mary was disappointed that nothing further happened after dinner with Suzanne. Then Mary stared at the ceiling wondering if only the wish she had made at the Chinese restaurant would actually come true one day. Soon Mary began fantasizing about getting a really hard spanking from Suzanne until finally she fell fast asleep. The next morning Mary woke up. She looked around and noticed that her room and all her things were completely different.

All of a sudden, she heard a very familiar voice. The voice was of a women talking in the hallway right outside the door from where Mary had awoken. It was the voice of Professor Varney. Unexpectedly, Mary heard Suzanne,s voice again. You are going to be late for class! Mary then rushed out of her bedroom and ran down the stairs as fast as her legs could carry her. Surrounded by friends gathered to celebrate her birthday, Lindsey closed her eyes, a serene expression taking over her features.

Her face showed animation, the hint of a smile at the corners of her mouth revealing hope for the future. Opening her eyes, she took a deep breath and blew out the candles that covered her birthday cake, silently thanking Mr. Edwards, her band director, for continually reinforcing lessons in breath control throughout her years of playing the trumpet in the school band.

As the last candle to gave up its flame, applause erupted from the onlookers. We all wish that for you, too. Winning the first one was a major victory. Everyone laughed. Though all the guests at the party were good friends, these four—Lindsey, Sherry, Andrea, and Mindy—had known each other since they were toddlers.

Though they had different interests, their close friendship had endured through the years. As Mindy removed the candles and Andrea brought paper plates, Lindsey busied herself cutting the cake, placing each portion on a plate Andrea held steady. Mark will be in the courtroom for moral support.

Everyone always wants ice cream. Later, after most of the guests had left and the party remains had been cleaned up, the hostesses relaxed in the living room. They all laughed. When they had left, Lindsey went to her bedroom and opened the closet door to take out the clothes she had decided to wear to dinner.

She went into the bathroom, undressed, and showered. When she was finished washing, brushing her teeth, dressing, and putting on makeup, she called her boyfriend to let him know she was about to leave. She turned into his double driveway and parked next to his car. He greeted her at the door with a strong, comfortable hug and a kiss. Mark got his suit coat and put it on. I feel like a queen just to be brought here. They were seated in a secluded area and leisurely enjoyed an excellent prime rib dinner.

They drove in silence to his house. She went to his bedroom and began taking off her clothes, while Mark hung up his suit, threw his shirt into a hamper, and put on a pair of pajama bottoms. He sat down on the bed and watched Lindsey remove everything but her panties.

She walked to him and lay across his lap. He showed her a short paddle made of beautiful light-colored wood. It will be the warmup and the spanking. He began with swats so light they could hardly be called spanks, moving to different areas of her bottom and the upper part of her thighs to make sure every spot received attention. She lay comfortably across his lap, finding a surprising level of enjoyment in the sensation.

After two or three minutes, he stopped and began rubbing her bottom and thighs gently. Then he hooked his fingers in the waistband of her panties and pulled them down to her knees, exposing the bare skin of her bottom. How do you feel?

He picked up the paddle again and resumed spanking her gently, making sure to spread his attention to all areas. All this time I thought I was allergic to wood. Mark laughed out loud. He rubbed her bottom a little longer and then began spanking again. Almost imperceptibly, he began to increase the force of the swats. He listened for verbal reactions from Lindsey and watched for flinching, relying on her indication of distress to guide the amount of force he used. A few minutes later, he paused and began rubbing her bottom again.

You know the old story about the frog in the pan of cold water? Or drama. That was involuntary. He started spanking her again, alternating sides and continuing to cover all areas. He gradually increased the intensity, always on the lookout for clues that Lindsey was experiencing more stress than he intended. As the minutes went by, the force increased. He again paused and began rubbing her bottom and thighs.

This is going to be a little change. He swatted her sharply with it. She flinched slightly. He waited about 30 seconds and smacked her again, in a different place. He hit in still another spot, and she breathed in deeply and then exhaled, but remained still.

He continued in this fashion, with second pauses, each swat slightly more forceful than the last. She continued to lie still, with only minimal reaction. Mark laid the paddle down and reached for her shoulders. He pulled her to a sitting position on his lap and held her while she cried. He spoke to her softly, soothing her. Your bottom looks like a couple of eggplants. Lindsey burst out laughing, even as the tears flowed. Let me see. Mark helped her off his lap, and she walked to the full-length mirror on the back of the bathroom door.

Mark handed Lindsey a box of tissues from the nightstand. Lindsey was supine on the bed, and he draped the towel over her. When he returned, Mark had a kitchen towel and a freezer bag filled with crushed ice. Lindsey raised herself up on one elbow. Mark sat on the edge of the bed and rubbed her arm. Now lie down and relax.

Mark laid the towel across her eyes and placed the ice pack on the towel. Is it on both eyes? It feels nice and cool. I want it to stay on for 20 minutes unless it gets too cold. Lindsey squirmed and reached down to touch an area of her right buttock. Something bothering you? They were quiet for several minutes. In court, I mean. I was counting on it. Are you warm enough? What time is it? Mark looked at the alarm clock on the nightstand. You probably want to get on the road pretty soon.

I need to get home and get ready for court tomorrow and then get to bed on time. Mark chuckled. Lindsey smiled. And she says it like I can understand it. I figured if they were too close together, and built in intensity, the effect would be something else entirely. I was hoping you would cry, because I thought you needed the emotional release. I do feel better, but kind of weak. As her eyes adjusted, Lindsey gazed up at Mark. And your body has been stressed.

The nutritious dinner we had will help a lot. She put on what she could while sitting down, and Mark knelt to put her trouser socks on. These pants hurt! It feels good, though. Lindsey turned to him. This lawsuit is a big deal, and these people have caused you no end of turmoil, not only financially, but physically and emotionally, too. I hope the decision tomorrow also goes your way. Now, get going. He opened it, and they walked to her car.

He reached to open the door for her. When she was behind the wheel, he closed the door firmly as she lowered her window. He leaned down and kissed her through the window. As she changed gears from Reverse to Drive, she looked at him and he waved.

A short time later she was home and in the house. She locked the door and made her way to the bedroom. What she would wear to court the next morning was all prepared. She took off her clothes, put them in the hamper, and took her nightgown from the hook in the bathroom door. The garment felt cool as she put her arms through the sleeves and it slid over her head and down her body. She looked at her face in the mirror and saw that her eyes seemed normal.

She splashed water on her face and then patted it dry with the hand towel. She brushed her teeth and went into the bedroom. Lindsey pulled back the covers and sat down on her bed, unprepared for the sensation she experienced. It was as though her furniture had become petrified while she was gone from the house. The comfortable mattress she had bought a year ago was now more like a bed of stone.

Admittedly, she relished the way it felt to her backside, because it proved that she had been soundly spanked, which was what she had wanted and needed. She checked the time——wrote it in her bedtime journal, and set her alarm. She lifted her legs onto the bed, turned off the bedside lamp, and promptly rolled over onto her stomach. The next morning, Lindsey opened her eyes and looked at the clock. The alarm would sound in nine minutes. She closed her eyes again and lay still, remembering her wish.

It seemed like everything should just fall into place and she should be victorious in this lawsuit. The other side had clearly invaded her privacy. It was definitely a sound not to be ignored. Lindsey swung her feet off the bed and sat up.

That was her first mistake. She reached for the clock to turn off the raucous sound. She turned on the lamp, stood up, and walked to the bathroom. But she needed coffee first. Resigning herself to the necessity, she gently lowered herself to the seat. At least it was cool. But it HURT.

She breathed deeply, in and out, her eyes watering. This was going to get worse, too, as the day progressed. Finished with that task, she padded to the kitchen to make coffee. While it dripped, she added a bowl of wheat flakes, orange juice, and a vitamin tablet to her breakfast menu.

She ate while looking out the window over the sink. It was barely dawn, and there was little to see. After spooning up the last of the cereal, she drank the remaining milk from the bowl, rinsed it and the juice glass, and put them into the dishwasher. By then the coffee was ready. She poured some into her favorite mug and added milk. Putting the milk back into the refrigerator, she picked up the mug and returned to the bathroom. Lindsey turned on the shower, waited 15 seconds, and stuck her hand in to check the temperature.

It was nice and warm. She stepped into the shower facing the stream of water. So far, so good. She let her face and hair get wet and then turned around. For a few seconds, she was paralyzed, it hurt so much. That was the worst part, though. She then shampooed her hair, washed, and got out of the shower and dried off.

Between sips of coffee, she dried her hair, got dressed, and put on her makeup. She carried her coffee into the kitchen, drank the last of it, rinsed the mug, and put it in the dishwasher. She was ready to leave. She checked to make sure the bathroom light was off and the coffeemaker was turned off. She picked up her purse and went out the front door, locking it behind her. Breathing deeply and evenly, she started the car and was on her way.

Because she was early, traffic was lighter than what she usually encountered when leaving later. That made the drive time shorter and also lessened the typical stress she had to deal with when traffic was heavy. She also was able to find a convenient parking place easily. She waited patiently for several minutes and then heard the sound of a familiar car horn to her left. Mark was pulling into a parking space three cars away. He got out and came over to her window. We can loiter a little while before going into the courtroom.

Mark opened the door for her and she got out of the car. That bad, huh? She looked at him. Mark smiled back at her. All the spanko girls would line up to sample your wares. Mark put his arm around her and they walked into the courthouse. He looked at his watch. Maybe we should go in. Several people were already present. The jurors filed in and took their assigned seats. The bailiff closed the door and moved to his table. Then everyone again sat. The judge indicated to the bailiff to get the piece of paper with the verdict written on it from the foreperson and bring it to the judge.

The bailiff did so, the judge read it and handed it back, and the bailiff then returned the paper to the foreperson. The Plaintiff, the Defendant, and both attorneys stood for the reading of the verdict. They left the courtroom and walked out of the courthouse toward their cars. We ought to go out to dinner again, with Mindy, Andrea, and Sherry.

Maybe even another celebration spanking. I stood at the top of the little wooden bridge and looked down into the cold, dark water below. A few leaves and branches slowly drifted beneath me, then for a moment the surface of the water was calm and flat. I straightened up and looked around for a sign that someone might be watching, but I was alone.

So very alone. I reached into my pocket and pulled out a shiny quarter which I had been saving for this moment. It seemed a bit silly to me to be doing this. I closed my eyes and imagined my desire, my burning need and then dropped the coin gently from my hand into the deep pond below.

With a little splash, it sunk and was gone. How was it supposed to happen? Would I magically receive a call, inviting me over for a spanking? Not likely. Now I felt even sillier for thinking this would work. But at least, I tried. I visited my uncle often, to help out with little fix-up jobs around the house and to help stockpile the wood for the coming winter. Many times I would be working in the yard, and I would look over and dream about those beautiful, firm legs….

Whenever she was there, I would make a point of making small talk and try to get to know her better. Sometimes, Ed would invite her over and we would sit on the patio in large, comfortable wicker chairs, and chat about everything and nothing. I almost choked on my julep when she mentioned it in passing. My world went dark and I thought I might pass out. We all laughed at the humorous little remark and the conversation continued.

However I became suddenly very flushed. I wanted her to repeat it again. And again. Maybe just a couple more times. We had been talking about customer service, more or less in general, and Uncle Ed had mentioned how rude some of the service people in town had become. We all agreed that many folks here in our community had become bored with their jobs, and that customer appreciation no longer mattered. Ed thought about boycotting a few of the local shops but Dana seemed to have a better solution.

So that was when I learned she was into spanking. Or at least she could be into spanking. Hopefully spanking me, of course. If they do well, they graduate to the title of hang around, where they can't wear the patch but are considered an associate.

Next, they become a prospect, where they get a half patch that shows the chapter's title. If they continue to perform well, they become a full patch member and get the Winged Death Head emblem. Kane was upset because he had worked with the gang for several years and was not even considered a hang around. On 1 April , Kane was arrested in Belleville, Ontario for having two handguns in his car, being sentenced to four months in prison.

It's a clear case of corruption Events have proved C [Kane] right and once again demonstrated the reliability and importance of our source". At the same time, Kane was caught between a power struggle between Carroll and another Hells Angel, an American living in Montreal named Scott Steinert. In April , Sergeant St.

Onge was approached by a Montreal police detective who wanted to know who informer C was, and was so persistent in demanding the identity of C that St. Onge suspected he had been bribed by the Hells Angels, a suspicion later confirmed when the detective was arrested for taking bribes. Onge at about 2 am to say he just had sex with some stripper and then hand the phone over to have the stripper tell St.

Onge about his sexual prowess. Sauveur , which by had been so successful that Carroll had started building condos in St. Sauveur as it was "a great chance to launder a bit of money". Unlike the control freak Kane, Simard was reckless and out of control. Along the way to Halifax, Kane and Simard were pulled over in Oromocto , New Brunswick by the RCMP under the suspicion of smuggling drugs as the two men were dressed in such a flamboyant way that the two officers, Constables Gilles Blinn and Dale Hutley, thought they must be drug dealers.

With pressure in Montreal from the newly formed federal-provincial Wolverine bike squad and the recent arrest of his partner, Simard, on an unrelated murder charge, Kane would be brought into custody by the Nova Scotia RCMP for 18 months but would then be released due to the RCMP's contradictory evidence. Onge stated: "He was very smart. He knew Carroll had been accused of murder in Halifax and that the police had tried a similar ploy with him. And so he also knew that Carroll would understand and pass the word to the others that Kane was not talking".

The French-Canadian Kane insisted on his constitutional right to have his trial in French, which delayed the proceedings as the Crown had to find a French-speaking judge, jury and Crown Attorney for his trial in Halifax. During his time in custody for a murder that he would be acquitted for, the RCMP would drop Kane as an informant. A former Hells Angel in Halifax named Randy Mersereau had broken away to form his own gang, and was reported to have put out contracts on the lives of Carroll, Boucher and Mike McCrea, the president of the Angels' Halifax chapter as a prelude to joining the Bandidos.

We're going there [Halifax], I don't known when we're coming back, but bring a gun". After his murder, the leadership of the Mersereau gang passed on to his younger brother, Kirk Mersereau, who vowed to avenge his brother. Am I a biker? Am I a policeman? Am I good or evil? Am I heterosexual or gay? Am I loved or feared?

Dana kane memory 2048

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