Pathetic...

...is probably the best word to describe my performance tonight. I had tried really hard to get myself into the right frame of mind, and I think I probably had done. However, once the caning started all that went right out the window. I stood up after practically every stroke. I cried. I thought I was going to be sick. After stroke five I stood up and flat out refused to get back down again for about 3 hours. Well, that's what it seemed like. It probably wasn't quite that long. George, to his eternal credit, did not lose it, as I'm sure I would have done if the situation had been reversed. I was being a complete pain, and probably deserved about 20 extras which he very kindly did not dispense tonight, though he really should have done.

I'm mostly just so angry with myself. Even when I was in the middle of kicking up a complete fuss, I was furious with myself for not just being able to bend back over and damn well get on with it. I really wish I knew why my reaction to pain varies so greatly. I know some of it is headspace, and some of it hormones, and some of it tiredness and goodness knows what else, but it's irritating (an understatement!) for me not to know how I'm going to react to a spanking from one day to the next, and I'm sure it must be endlessly frustrating for George. Eventually we did get through the 12 (though it probably took getting on for half an hour I was being such a baby...).

Later on, after I had calmed down a bit, we had a bit of a conversation about vocabulary. We agreed that submissive wasn't a good term for me, but I don't think we reached any conclusions as to what was... ah well, I'm me and that's all I need to know! We also had a discussion about the phrase he used when he linked to my blog from his: "Eliane is mine and will regularly send stroppy texts and emails for daring to suggest she is anything other than independent." I took great exception to this, obviously, so he said he was going to prove it to me, as I would get over his lap and be spanked when he asked me to. Again, obviously, I refused... I mean, come on, a girl has her pride. We tussled for a bit. He nearly won at one point but I managed to shoot myself off his knees and onto the floor. Now comes the part where he would claim he won the argument. Yes, I did get back over his lap, and yes I did let him spank me but *only* because he uttered the words "if you don't get over my lap I'll use the bathbrush on you". Seriously folks, that's just blackmail, isn't it?! Of course I got over his lap, I hate wood!! So, I'd just like to state for the record, that I'm mine and no one else's and I will continue to send stroppy emails and texts (and blog posts) to that effect, because sometimes it's about the principle of the thing!


(Oo, and the kink came back on Wednesday evening, thank goodness!)

Vanilla Flavour

I've got a nearly finished post all about Monday's caning that I started last night, but instead of finishing it I'm typing a new post. Why? Because I seem to have turned vanilla in my sleep. I'm not quite sure why... it's never happened to me before, or at least not since I started being kinky in real life...
And the weirdest thing. I don't feel particularly bothered about having lost all kinky thoughts, urges and desires. Feel like I could stay vanilla and that wouldn't be an issue. What's that all about?
Anyway, I'm hoping today is a temporary aberration, and when I wake up tomorrow, I'll be back to my usual kinky self. And finish that post about last night.

A Punishment Book

A slightly edited version of a recent email conversation:

Him: "Would you like to have a punishment book?"
Me: "Um, not really."
Him: "Why not?"
Me: "Because at the moment, there's a chance things might be forgotten about before I get them. If they're written down, there's no chance of them being forgotten."
Him: "I hadn't thought about that. Excellent point. I'm impressed. Please buy a suitable book when you have the chance."
Me: "Sigh."

I don't know why I think it would make a difference anyway. The man seems to have the memory of an elephant when it comes to things like that. There's no way he would forget what he 'owed' me even if it wasn't written down.

Waiting To Be Caned

I'm getting caned tomorrow evening. 12 of the 18 strokes I'm owed for texting whilst driving.
I really, really don't want to be caned. I *hate* being caned.
But on the other hand I know that what I did was really, really stupid. I mean, I was texting while I was on the motorway. Doing 70 miles an hour. I'm pretty ashamed of that. You don't get much more idiotic than that. I could have got myself killed. Even worse, I could have killed someone else.
George asked me to email him what I was feeling knowing that I would be caned on Monday. This was what I responded.

"Crap.
Worried.
Honestly, I'm trying not to think about it at all.
I'm considering not opening the door to you.
I'm considering breaking the cane before you turn up.
I'm wondering what on earth makes me think I like being spanked. Or caned. Or disciplined.
I'm worried about having to go out straight after getting 12 (and let's be frank, probably extras. It's not like I'm good at staying in position).
I'm really, seriously thinking about losing the cane.
I'm scared."

So think of me and my poor bum on Monday night! (And yes, I know I deserve it)

Vocabulary Issues

I have a tendency to overreact. This would actually surprise some people who know me as I generally manage to keep a lid on my temper. Sometimes, though, my buttons get pushed and wham, there I am, overreacting again. George used a word in his post on Friday that pushed all my buttons. He called me his sub. (Which he has now changed to spanking partner, thank you George!)

This is one word I have a real problem with. I am not naturally submissive, though I can have my moments, and the connotations associated with being "someone's sub" are not ones I am happy with. I am fiercely independent, and that is very important to me. Bending, in any way, to someone's will, against my own, is something I find intensely difficult. So when I read this word last night, I felt more than a little uneasy. That unease continued into the next morning, and, when he sent me an email, which on reflection was well intentioned, I took it completely the wrong way. I viewed it as an attempt to control me, and lost my temper. Stupid? Yes. Unjustified? Yes.

He and I probably still need to have a conversation about the labels we put on ourselves and our relationship, but the point is that they *are* only labels. It doesn't change what we do.

A Bit Of A Shock

I was innocently (because I'm *always* innocent) sitting at my PC last night when an email came through from George. All it had was a link on it. To a blog. "Oh, how nice", I thought, "he's sent me a link to a blog he thinks I'll like".
You could have knocked me down with a feather when I opened the link and realised it was *his* blog. That he'd just started.
So this is a bit of an interesting turn of events... I like the idea of George having a blog because I'm interested in hearing his thoughts and perspective on what we are doing. On the other hand, the idea also worries me no end. After all, how do I know what he's going to write? How can I control it? I can't. Which means I'm not in control. Argh!!!
I hate not being in control, except in some very specific situations . (I.e. being spanked. And even then not always!) I mean, I really hate it. He on the other hand, rather likes the idea of me not being in control...

So anyway, somewhat against my better judgement, I hereby introduce you to George's blog.

Limits

Someone who reads this blog very bravely plucked up the courage to write and ask me for some advice. Now, I would never encourage anybody to look on me as some sort of guru, because I'm really just muddling through trying to figure this out like everyone else, so take anything that follows with a pinch of salt. That disclaimer out of the way, this person asked a very interesting question. I said that if she was embarking on a real life spanking journey, she should make sure she set her limits when she was thinking about "playing" with people. She rightly turned round and asked "How can I set my limits if I don't really know what they are?"

I realised that this was a great question, and it got me thinking. So below, and I hope she doesn't mind me reproducing the body of my email to her, are some of my thoughts on how to figure out what your limits are:

I've been thinking a lot today about how I figured out what mine were, and I came to the conclusion that a lot of it comes just by reading fiction, being on websites like Informed Consent, reading blogs etc. As you are reading them, maybe try and think of the following things:
Do I like the idea of this particular thing that is being talked about (be it being caned, bondage, etc.)?
Can I see myself doing this thing in real life?
Is it something that scares me (and not in a good way)?
Is it something that goes against my values?
What appeals to me/turns me on as I am reading?

As you do this you will probably find yourself coming up with some things that you really don't like the idea of. For instance, I hate the idea of gags. I have asthma and the idea of having something in my mouth impeding my breathing scares me. So for me, gags are a limit. I would never want to be gagged. These things that don't appeal are probably a good starting place for your limits. It's also useful to have an idea of what type of spankings appeal. Do you like the idea of discipline spankings? Or maybe just for fun spankings? Or maybe what really appeals is erotic spankings as a prelude to more sexual activity.
It also helps to have a set of "first spanking meet" limits. It may be that you think that once you get to know someone you wouldn't mind them using implements on you, but the first time you meet you only want them to hand spank you.
Don't be surprised if your limits change over time. Accept that as you grow in doing "this thing we do", you will discover more about yourself, and what your likes and dislikes are. Don't think that just because you said when you started out that you would *never* do something, you can't change your mind three months down the line when the idea starts appealing more. We're women: it's our prerogative to change our minds ;-)

I think the key thing is research. Just try and figure out what feels right in your head (and heart) and what doesn't, and that's probably a pretty darn good basis for your limits.

How long have you 'known' you were a spanko?

As usual, I'm curious. This is a pretty much a constant state for me when it comes to spanking. I have always been a spanko. Of course, when I was eight or nine, and rereading those little snippets in books which dealt with someone being spanked, I didn't *know* that's what I was. And later on, when I realised what it was that I liked, I didn't want to admit that's what I was, but now, with the benefit of age (I would say wisdom, but we all know that's a lie), I can look back and realise that in fact, yes, I've been in to spanking pretty much all my life. I'm a spanko. This is part of who I am, always has been, probably always will be.

Is it the same for you guys, or are there people who have never considered this until someone introduced them to it in adulthood?

Tight vs Stockings - the next round

I can be a little absent-minded. I'm dyslexic and have a poor short term memory, so that's what gets blamed for all episodes of absent-minded idiocy. It's an excuse that's done me proud since I was 12 and I will be sticking to it, thank you very much. Anyway, I've discovered one major flaw with stockings when you are a little, um, "dizzy".

I'm putting on my stockings in the morning, right leg is on, and then I get distracted by some thought of something, who knows what, not important. Anyway, I get up to deal with said random thought, and put left stocking down somewhere. I only live in a two bed flat, so there's not that many places where it could be, but anyone who knows me will tell you it's a very messy two bed flat (G, don't even THINK of agreeing with me here, lol!).

It took my 10 solid minutes of looking to find stocking number two. Making me even later than I already was.

This is where tights get their own back. If I put one leg on and get distracted, the other leg is still flapping around. It can't get lost. This is a good thing for simple minded souls like me. I don't need to have a 10 minute battle with my memory and messiness.

So the current score, Tights 1, Stockings 1.

A Hair Metaphor (or something)

My hair used to be dead straight. I'm talking, poker straight, not a wave in sight. If I tried to wave, or curl it, the wave would drop out within about 10 minutes.
However, about 5 years ago, something changed. My hair started getting kinks in it. First one, then two, at the back, then at the front. The situation got worse and worse, and nowadays no honest person would call my hair straight. It's most definitely wavy, and well, kinky.

Of course, I've only come about my kink in the past six months or so. Think of all the fun I could have had if I'd listened to my hair when it first started giving me these signs!

Texting Etiquette

Texting whilst driving is dangerous and stupid, as I'm sure we'd all agree...

Texting the person who spanks you when you're driving and they *know* that you're driving, is, let's be frank, plain idiotic!
Various text messages were being exchanged, and then I get one that says "Hope you are not texting and driving...". Gulp. Whoops, busted. The phone gets closed and put in my bag for the remainder of the journey, my subsequent lack of response to that text probably being the most obvious of confessions.

Needless to say, my butt is for it!

It's For The Bath...!

George wandered into my bathroom the other day, and I heard this excited little squeal. He came out with a smile on his face and a glint in his eye clutching my bath brush. Given my dislike of all things wooden, I was not impressed by this turn of events.
"I like your bath brush!" he said with that evil glint still there.
"Yes, I use it in the bath, now put it back!"
"Come, on just one..." he wheedled, a little like a small child who wasn't being allowed to play on the swings.
"Fine."
So I bent over, took a swat with the thing and whinged for about 3 minutes.
"Well, you shouldn't leave these things lying around" he countered.

It's my bath brush. That I use in the bath. Which is in the bathroom. Where else am I supposed to leave the stupid thing? It's not my fault some people can't leave well enough alone...!

New Rules

I was chatting to a friend earlier on today. She isn't kinky but knows that I am. We were talking about various things and got onto the subject of how our inhibitions have held us back over the years, and have also held back several of our friends.
We all come from quite similar backgrounds. We are middle class, from stable homes. None of us were brought up "in religion", but we all have what could probably be called "strong moral values". Of course, there are many different sets of strong moral values. No doubt cannibals have a set of strong values that they hold to. I'm sure you can imagine, though, the sort of values that I'm talking about. Nice girls don't drink too much. Nice girls don't smoke. Nice girls don't swear. Nice girls are polite. Nice girls don't think mean thoughts about others. Nice girls have sensible relationships with nice men, don't sleep around, eventually marry, and have nice babies. Nice girls should be, well, nice. All of which is fine, don't get me wrong, but often makes for rather screwed up adults. Which, to be frank, all of my friends are to some degree, because hey, those values are damn hard to live up to.
But, and forgive the pity party, I contend that it's even worse for me with my kink. When you get to the stage where you can't just feel free to be who you want, see who you want, do what you want, just be your true self, at least for some part of the time... that's when it's time to re-evaluate some of those "strong moral values", and what they actually bring to our lives.
It's taken me a hell of a long time to allow myself to be OK with my spanking desires, because, well, nice girls don't do things like that. There are very few things I regret in my life, but I think that not allowing myself to be who I truly am for so long is probably the biggest one. I've eventually realised that if I want to live my life in a way that doesn't meet with 'the Nice Girl Rule Book' what does it really matter? So I'm making up my own rule book now:

1) Don't put yourself in danger
2) Don't be stupid
3) Don't hurt other people
4) Be true to yourself

That should cover most bases, right?
It just might take me a while longer to tell my mother I won't be bringing home Mr Nice anytime soon!!

So Unfair

I've spent a fair portion of the past day and a half in an antibiotic fuelled haze of exhaustion, sleeping lots. And dreaming lots. You'd think with all those dreams, I might get some nice kinky ones, right? Wrong. Being in a boat in an earthquake in Venice? Check. Getting lost in the middle of a strange city with my least favourite work colleagues? Check. Watching some random army invade the local stately home? Check. The nearest my dreams came to kinky was one involving suspender belts. Unfortunately, it involved Gladys Pugh, from Hi-De-Hi, selling them on television. I realise that that reference will probably only mean something to anyone who was living in the UK in the 1980s, but think "scary desperate Welsh woman with too much make up" (http://www.bbc.co.uk/cult/ilove/years/1981/tv3.shtml). The point being, not in the slightest bit kinky or sexy. Or at least not for me. If it works for you, hey, who am I to judge!?
So it's back to sleep for me. And here's hoping I get luckier with the dreams this time.

Look What I Bought!

When on my trip to New York, I was lucky enough to meet up with Kate James. We had a lovely meal, and it was great, though a little humbling to meet up with someone who is already so sorted about their kink while still in their teens. I'm not one to regret things, but it does make me wish I'd allowed myself to be OK with my spanking desires at a much younger age. Ah well, I may as well try and make up for lost time now!


I do have one bone to pick with Kate, though. Thanks to her, I'm $100 poorer. As I was hanging round in SoHo waiting for her to arrive, she texted me the name of a great toy store I could go visit, Babeland. So I did, and saw a beautiful flogger that I just had to buy myself.





















It's lovely, and so soft! I can't wait to try it out. So thank you Kate, both for a lovely evening, and the store recommendation!

Trying New Things

When a girl discovers she's kinky, she starts to try lots of new things. Some are obvious: being spanked for the first time, being tawsed for the first time, being caned for the first time... you get the picture. Some new things are slightly less obvious, and also slightly less kinky. I wore stockings for the first time today. I'm a bit of a girlie girl, so I wear a lot of skirts, but I've always, always, worn them with tights. Until I started exploring my kink, I had never even thought about wearing stockings. After all, when you are wandering around Boots, or Asda or wherever, and think, ooo I need new hosiery, it's always tights sitting on the shelves.
Of course, there is a problem with tights. I HATE wearing them. A lot. So when I suddenly realised that stockings weren't just part of wedding day underwear and there are lots of people out there who wear them*every day*, I thought I might try them as an alternative to tights, on the basis that the less yucky nylon there is touching my skin, the better.
And the verdict? Yes, stockings are good. Much nicer than tights, slightly more of a faff to put on, but it also makes you feel very sexy knowing you are wearing stockings instead of tights. It's that nice feeling of knowing "I've got something on under my dress that you don't know about", a bit like cane marks. Well, not really, but you get my drift. So the score? Stockings 1, Tights 0

More Links

Lots of other bloggers have been kind enough to leave me comments over the last few weeks. Here are some links to their sites that I'd like to share with you, in no particular order!

A Well-Disciplined Girl Olivia always leaves such lovely, thoughtful comments!

Journey To The Darkside Check out Padme and Master Anakin's adventures.

Mac Girls Escapades Mac Girl is starting out on her own journey discovering spanking and her sexuality.

From My Other Side: Where Anything Goes Ofia has been blogging for about 18 months, and is always a good read.

The Naughty Side of K Another newish blog, hey, there's lots of us around here!

Time Out For Love Maryann started her blog when she was in a relationship, but has bravely decided to carry on blogging since the relationship ended.

Spanked Italian Girl I-Girl has been a spanko her whole life. She and her husband started incorporating DD into their marriage last year, after 25 years of marriage.

American Spanking Society Todd and Suzy over at A.S.S need no introduction, but for the two of you left who have never visited their site, head on over there and check it out!

Freshly Spanked Smudge and Irelynn are two freshers who are completely lovely, slightly mad, and well organised enough to fit in blogging around other compulsory fresher activities (drinking, missing lectures, drinking, chatting up boys, giving up on boys, drinking, learning things)

Emma Enchanted Em is yet another new blogger, go over and say hi.

Spanking Kate James My friend Kate James blog, who I met up with in New York. But that's another post ;-)

also check out her forum, Young Spankos

Robin's Red Bottom Robin is another great writer :-)

Harry Potter Theme Park

I am proud to admit that I'm a massive fan of the Harry Potter books. Yes, I am well aware they are not great literature, but they are bloody good stories, and anyone who disagrees with me can go and bathe in the products of a potions class! Whenever the latest book came out it had to be read as soon as possible, and as a consequence I missed work, was late to a friend's evening wedding party, and at least twice spent 8 hours solid doing nothing but reading. So imagine my excitement last year when I found out that they would be opening a Harry Potter theme park at Universal Studios.

And I'm sure I'm not the only spanko Harry Potter fan who is secretly hoping that in the lovely castle part of the theme park, there will be a secret Hogwarts spanking chamber...?

Oh, it was just me then...!

The photo is undoubtedly copywrite of Warner Brothers, Universal etc. etc.

Knickers

I'm wondering whether buying 12 pairs of knickers (and not in the cheap five packs from Marks and Spencer) could be considered to be excessive? Usually buying too many books is one of my favourite shopping vices, but I seem to have got carried away and bought rather too many knickers this trip, instead of books. Ah well, all to the good, knickers are much lighter to carry home!

Butt Cheek Favouritism

Does anyone else suffer from butt cheek favouritism? He's right handed. He's fairly even handed with he's handspanking, but once an implement comes into play, oh my goodness... my poor right cheek gets such a bad deal. Tawse, cane, and crop all naturally fall with the most impact on that beleaguered area. Even the hairbrush of doom (currently in retirement) seems big enough that it's a bit unwieldy to use too much on my left cheek when I'm OTK. For me, this makes the spanking even harder to take. It gets to the point where I just want to scream 'Dammit, will you just aim for the other cheek for a bit?!'. Luckily, my inner brat has not yet snapped... I tried to mention it the other day, but basically got told that he was right handed, he'd tried with his left before now, and it didn't work, so suck it up... more politely than that, obviously ;-)
So what I really need is an ambidextrous spanker. Or to put some sort of analgesic gel on my right butt cheek... ooo, now that's an idea!

How Long Can You Last

How long can you last without a spanking? For those of you who live with the person who spanks you, this may not be a question you have to deal with very often. For those of us who have to make time to meet up with the person who spanks us, it can be a slightly more vexed issue. I'm writing this sitting in another airport on my way to another country, and lamenting the fact that it's now been a week since I was last spanked. I'm learning that a week is about my limit. For about a week after I've been spanked, I'm satisfied, and while it's on my mind (it always is!) I'm not getting obsessed, Leave it much more than a week, though, and I get antsy, obsessed, annoyed, and generally in great need of having my bottom warmed. The real annoyance at the moment is that I know it's not going to happen for ages. Work and life are combining at the moment to mean it's probably going to be close to the end of October when I'm free, let alone trying to match diaries. It's not that I don't want to be doing all the other stuff that I'm doing, I do, just I want to get a spanking in there as well. So I'm sitting here, knowing the spanking cravings are going to be hitting sometime soon, and knowing that I can't do a damn thing about them for at least three weeks. ARGH!

LIttle Challenges

It took me 2.5 hours instead of 1.5 hours to get to my hotel last night. This was partly because I got hit with the stupid stick again, and forgot to buy a map at the airport or get one from the hire car desk, partly because I have a fundamental objection to Sat Nav (it seems to make people switch off their brains), and partly because the Tolls here are evil and if you don't go in on the right side, you come out onto the wrong road, which I figured out a little too late.

As I was driving along having rectified my mistake, I was reminded of a comment an aquaittance once made to me. She said "Oh, you're so brave to travel alone, I could never do that." I explained that I had had to travel abroad, on my own, for my job, since I first started working when I was 23, and I didn't see anything "brave" in it at all. Brave is putting your life on the line, or facing up to your greatest fears, not travelling to a foreign country on your own.

I will admit though that it sometimes gives one little challenges. I could have had a cab for the 130km journey each way, but to me that seemed a waste of money, so I hired a car. Yes, I got lost, but I stopped at a petrol station, asked someone and figured it out. It's about setting myself a little challenge and not taking the easy way out. I'm glad I do that, because if I hadn't spent the last however many years setting myself these little challenges and meeting them, I wouldn't have believed I had the strength to face the bigger challenges that came my way, and I also don't think I would have been able to take that final step and challenge myself to make my spanking dreams become a reality. So every time I do get a bit lost in a foreign country, or worry about attending an event I don't want to attend, I don't panic, I'm just thankful for another little challenge... because who knows where it might lead? (In this case it was leading to the east coast of Spain when it should have been leading to the west, but hey...!)

Tidying Up The Toys

I'm sitting in the hell hole that is Heathrow Terminal 2 off on a very boring business trip, but things are looking up now that I've got out my new “Porn Book” (an Acer Aspire One Netbook), cute, tiny, and a joy to the heart of a gadget freak like me. My new toy means I can write kinky stuff to my heart's content, even while on boring business trips, without risking getting the sack for having dodgy material on my laptop.
Leaving the house today was interesting. I'm very lucky in that I live close to my mother, who is a wonderful woman, and will often come and clean for me if I'm away, as she knows how busy I am. (And, let's be honest, how truly lazy when it comes to housework!) She is generally pretty good at just moving the rubbish to clean round it, and not looking in the cupboards, but it does mean that I have to be a lot more careful since I let my inner kinky girl out to play. So today, before leaving the house, I had to do one more scout round. Cane, tawse and crop hidden in a cupboard, rather than on the sofa, chair, and ottoman respectively. Spanking porn strewn all over the bed stuffed in the bottom of the wardrobe, vibrators hidden back in the underwear drawer... Hopefully I've remembered everything, but it's just become so much a part of who I am that I sometimes don't 'see' the naughty stuff any more. Ah well. It could be worse, I could have to tidy up more often. The good thing about being out practically every night of the week is that nobody bothers coming to visit, as I'm never in, so I can keep the place as messy as I want generally! It just means that when I do have to tidy for vanilla eyes, I have to be extra careful.