I received this pic and message from Kid Karisma last night:
|My Birthday Present|
For those who may not be tracking, for my birthday, I went through the mental exercise of deciding which homoerotic wrestler I’d pick to deliver my spanking in honor of my birthday. There are plenty of wrestlers who I’d be more than happy to be bent over their knees for them to slap my ass repeatedly. But in the end (so to speak), I decided that my top choice for the job would be my reigning favorite homoerotic wrestler (non-pornboy), Kid Karisma.
|I’m ready to assume the position!|
Now, Kid K mentioned that he reads this blog, and he even granted me a dizzyingly delightful interview. But I swear, I wasn’t angling for a shout out by the karismatic one. However, I’m thrilled to get such a sweet gift, and absolutely anything that Kid K would want to do to my ass to make it so sore that I couldn’t sit down would be just fine with me! He’s probably just lucky that I’m not inclined toward stalking, because his message makes me want to track down where “here” is in order to make him pay up.
|He’s my favorite for so many reasons…|
Do other cultures have tradition of getting spanked on your birthday? I know that there are neverland readers from other parts of the world, so I’m not sure if the concept of swatting someone’s ass to celebrate their birthday translates everywhere. I remember a number of birthdays as a kid getting held down, protesting, as I was spanked, one painful swat for each year. As I explain this for readers who might not have heard of the tradition, it suddenly strikes me how completely bizarre and non-sensical it sounds. I suppose that’s the way with a lot of traditions.
|Kid Karisma is practiced at bending a lucky opponent
across his knee.
Now that I’m all grown up (sort of), a little celebratory corporal punishment takes on a whole new significance. If Kid K got down on one knee, I really wouldn’t have to be forced to assume the position, though putting up a token fight would just make it that much hotter. I really wouldn’t sincerely protest feeling the sting of the palm of Kid K’s hand cracking down on my naked cheeks (because let me assure you, I’d insist on them being naked for this ritual!). Sure, I’d make a good show of grunting and whimpering, perhaps even a little pleading for mercy, but it would just be to contribute to the drama of being in the clutches, under the control, and entirely at the mercy of a certain freckle-faced, dimple-chinned, gloriously-gluted, muscleman of my fantasies.
|Gorgeous, merciless, and generous!|
Thanks, Kid Karisma! Your hold on the top spot of my favorite homoerotic wrestlers us just that much tighter. Poor, lovely Lon Dumont has merely more distance to make up if he thinks he’s going to knock your gorgeous ass off the throne!