Position Vacant

I'm single, and for the most part happily so. I'm fundamentally a loner, and a selfish one at that. I love my own company, being able to do what I want, when I want, making my own decisions, running my own life. Just once in a while, though, it would be nice to have a man around the house. Not so much to do those things I can't do, but to do those things I can't be bothered doing. So to remedy this situation, I'm thinking of placing a "Position Vacant" advert.
What do you think?

Position Vacant: Man Of All Work

Duties include:

Tyre pressure checking

Lawn mowing

Shopping Mule, especially when recreational rather than food shopping

DIY duties - hanging pictures, painting decking, tiling, plumbing.

Periodic insect clearance

Gardening advice (esp. regarding what are weeds vs actual plants that should be kept)

Sex on demand

Spankings as/when needed (must be handy with canes and straps)

Dishwasher unloading

Vacuum Cleaner bag emptying

Taxi on demand

Suitcase carrying

Payment:

The pleasure of my company (when I'm in the mood)

In addition accommodation will be provided. In the shed. It has a light, you know, and curtains, and if I run the hose from the outside tap to the door, it will have water as well. What do you mean it doesn't sound very comfortable?!

So, think I'd get many responses?

The Party

In which I get drunk, beaten and showered with presents...

I think a good glimpse into the evening would be via my tweets... in my defence when I'm tired I tweet nearly as badly as when I'm drunk, because I can't be bothered to force my eyes to focus. So some of the bad spelling was due to tiredness, OK?

5:33pm: Whoops, think I might be drunk!
8:45pm: They ALL just spznked me! All of the m...
9:35pm: House is undekinked and spankng somethinged. Thou i mightnbw a bit drnuk.
10:22pm: House is undekinked and spankng somethinged. Thou i mightnbw a bit drnuk.
12:06am: @lucythematron You can totaaky come ti the next one! This ine wax housewarming. Next one is brthday :-)
12:22am: @catherine_987 and i thank you for not soanking me. But i thunk you were the only one! Well dime for @lilemmaj tho, she deserved it!!
12:24am: I know it looks kikeilm drunk tweeting but realky it's inly coz i'm tired and can onky fodus with one eye.
12:36am: AM a very happy girl
12:45am:
@lilemmaj Omg, you totally climbed thru my 80's retro serving hstch! Bad girl! Did youmget dealt with for thst?!

It was true, as well, they pretty much all did spank me. I think only two didn't, and one of those held me down while the others did. You see, apart from the various beatings that people gave me through the evening (Jessica, Lady Emma, and Haron, complete with fear inducing lipstick!) there was a moment where everyone had a go. It was all the doing of Abel and Haron. They brought a little scroll with them, you see, and claimed it was an old decree that was still in existence... they are generally very truthful people, so I had to believe them, didn't I?
I don't have my scanner set up yet (I know, give me a break, I had a housewarming to get ready for!) so I will reproduce the text here:

By Order of His Majesty's parliament
24 April 1710

It is hereby decreed that, henceforth, each new resident of the parish of X shall receive a "housewarming" spanking", the number of strokes or spanks to be equal to ten times the house number of their new abode.

Failure of the said new resident to comply fully and willingly with this decree shall result in either a doubling of the number of strokes or spanks, or the use of more severe implements, or both, by the decision of the assembled guests.

So at a certain point in the evening, Abel decided to round up people to help give me my forty strokes. Of course I'd tried to convince everyone that I lived at number 1, but they'd all walked in the door of number 4, so weren't that easily fooled. (Which surprised me!)
I was bent over the back of the sofa, so I don't really know exactly who did what, but I think that Abel, Haron, Master Retep, Emma Jane, Irelynn and Olivia all had a go (six strokes each). If I'm wrong, and missed someone, I'm sorry!! What they had a go with is lost in the mists of memory, but I think I said "ow" a lot. Someone else finished off the last four. Was it Abel again? If this all sounds like I was too drunk to remember, can I just point out that when you have your head buried in the sofa and someone holding on to your arms in such a way that there's no way you're getting up, it's a bit hard to distinguish who is hitting you with what :-) (Well, that's my excuse and I'm sticking to it!)

So, was my house thoroughly warmed? Yes, and my bottom was as well. I don't really have any excuse now for not being comfortable with spanking in the house. Um, when I'm drunk, at any rate.

So Why Are You In Detention?

A vanilla friend on Facebook posted the link to a wonderful Huffington Post article. It is a picture story, with shots of detention slips given to people for the most ridiculous reasons.
I think my favourite is the poor boy who got detention for getting mad at his teacher when s/he insisted that a kilometre was longer than a mile...

They could be the basis for some great scenes for those of us with a liking for unfair punishment. In fact I issue a challenge to my readers. What's the silliest/most unfair reason you can come up with for someone getting whacked in detention?

Reality Show Spanking

I was innocently surfing online (it happens once in a while, promise!) looking for the lastest forum gossip on a new reality TV show in the UK called Over The Rainbow, which is searching to find a leading "Dorothy" for a new production of the Wizard of Oz. (Yes, I am at least 30% stereotypical gay man.) Anyway, in my totally innocent browsing, I stumbled across this article about the latest series of Britain's Got Talent:

http://www.digitalspy.co.uk/tv/s107/britains-got-talent/realitybites/a216109/some-spanking-action-on-more-talent.html

It's about an act, who, from the sounds of things, either performed the spanking scene from Kiss Me Kate, or possibly quoted Shakespeare while spanking. I'm trying to find a video and not having much success, so if you do, please share!

It sounds like some of us have missed out on a career opportunity though. Maybe we could do some sort of orchestrated spanking?

Time To Get Over It

The time has come to get over it. It being my fear of being spanked in the house. This somewhat irrational (OK, maybe not that irrational!) fear has been with me for the past two and a half months, since I moved, and is occasionally heightened by hearing the neighbours sneeze!

I now no longer have the option of being squicked by the thought of spanking noise being overheard by the neighbours. This is because in under 48 hours there will be up to eighteen spankos in the house, invited by me to my kinky housewarming party. It would be more than a little unreasonable to invite a bunch of kinky folk to a kinky housewarming, and then ban play, wouldn't it? And to be honest, knowing the propensity of some of this lot to starting to whack people with merely the slightest provocation, I suspect banning them from playing would be a pointless task anyway ;-)

So yeah, time to get over the anti-spanking-noise hang ups. I suspect the most effective way of doing this may just to be get rather drunk, lose my inhibitions and not care what's happening. The other option, staying sober and freaking out, doesn't seem like such a good idea.

Longing

This weekend I ended up in a leather shop at a craft site on the Lowewood Go Wild In Wales trip. Leather shops are nice. I love the smell of leather. I love the feel of leather. And there I was talking about feeling it with my fingers, but I also love the feel of it on my butt cheeks as it hits home. This shop had the most wonderful selection of belts. Proper, beautiful leather belts, soft to the touch, and as I was staring at these things of beauty, and a not unfamiliar, but more recently somewhat unaccustomed longing came over me.
I longed to be bent over, waiting, and hear the sound of a belt buckle being undone. Hear the swish of the belt as it came out of trouser loops, the creak as it was doubled in half. The swish as it was tested. The crack as it landed. Again and again. It's very cliched, but I find a man taking off his belt and using it on me an incredible turn on. There's an impromtu-ness to it: I don't need implements, I don't need canes or paddles to use on you. I can still deal with you. Here's an implement I carry round with me all the time... yum.
I'm still longing, a day later, but now it's bedtime, so I might take my longing up to bed and see if I can't turn it into a nice little fantasy! Night all ;-)

Postscript To A Birching

Some of you may have concluded from my account of my first ever birching, that I was perhaps not quite as contrite as I could have been.

Abel apparently thought the same thing. When he asked if I was sorry, I made some sort cheeky remark in response, so he bent me back over the bed, and unleashed the big gun in his arsenal of weapons... his hand.

A mere four whacks with that was enough to have me genuinely apologising, proving once again, if proof were needed, that Haron's claim that "Abel’s hand is the most awesome, most frightening weapon in his collection of implements" is indeed a true and accurate one.

My First Birching

I had my first ever real birching yesterday. It was to teach me a lesson, namely that I should not be a bad influence. I learnt a lesson as well.... don't get caught being a bad influence!

So what is a birching like? Well, first of all, let me explain for those who don't know something that I didn't know: there are two kinds of birches. The first is a spray birch, show here:
Spray birches are basically made up of lots and lots of twigs, leafless, but possibly (I think) with buds still left on. They are relatively light.

The so-called "Manx" birch, on the other hand, is made up off several long straight twigs bound together. As someone said to me, "like six or seven canes hitting you all at once."


The birch used on me was a spray birch (or wimpy birch!) I don't think I'm quite ready for the more hard-core version yet!
I was quite nervous, nerves made worse when I went to the bathroom and saw a whole bunch of twigs soaking in the tub! Pleas of birch pollen allergies (actually true, by the way!) were ignored, and after a rather nice dinner it appeared the time had come. Bending over the end of the bed, knickers off, skirt raised.*
The first few strokes weren't that bad, a little stingy but OK. The cumulative effect is what I've always heard people talk about, though, and they weren't wrong. The sting very quickly builds and the birch continues falling, and rapidly becomes really rather ouchy! Apparently I had 40 strokes, though if you'd paid me I wouldn't have been able to confirm or deny that. That left me with a rather warm, and slightly itchy bum, that was a delightful shade of red. I always judge how much a spanking has affected me by "bounce back time", this being the amount of time it takes for me to start being a cheeky madame again. I think it was about 10 seconds this time, so I probably could I have taken a few more strokes, but it was nice to stop when we did given how ambivalent I've been about my kink recently.
Now for the all important question: would I want to be birched again? Yes, with a spray birch. I'm not sure I'd ever be ready for its big brother!

Thank you to Abel for my first birching. Even if I have been sneezing all day today. Birch pollen allergy, you know....

*As an aside, I had worn the best skirt in the world for spanking. Silky, double layered, falls back down over your bum at the slightest movement!

Kinder, They Say

I always wonder what's worse. Is it worse to know beforehand, so your mind can dwell, for days or hours, on what's going to happen to you? Playing it over in your mind, imagining the scene, the implement, the pain. Does this help you cope?
Or is it better not to know? To not even realise that you are going to be punished until retribution falls? If you know beforehand, have you mentally prepared? Does that make you more stoic? Better able to take the strokes?

They always used to tell us. Even if we didn't know the exact day, we knew that the transgression had been noted, that retribution would be coming our way at some point. The thought would be there, at the back of your mind, squatting like a toad, until the appointed hour came.

They've changed the rules now. Kinder, they say. Now you don't know that you're going to be whacked until you're standing on the carpet in front of his desk, mind jumping everywhere. What? Why? How much? Help!

Kinder, they say, but the few minutes I have been standing here have been nothing less than the concentration of all those days and hours of worry that I used to have. A few minutes, but overwhelming minutes, of sickness, panic, nerves. Until he announces the sentence.
Pausing. Standing and looking me straight in the eye, though I can barely return his gaze.

“Twelve, I think.”

"This Will Hurt You More Than It Hurts Me"

A serious piece of research, reported in the Telegraph last week, has an interesting slant for us spankos. It seems that scientists have discovered that talking about pain actually makes it worse for the person experiencing it. So saying to someone: "this may hurt a bit", or "you might feel a little pain" can make feelings of discomfort worse. The researchers hypothesise that

"It is possible that those conversations intensify the activity of the pain matrix in the brain and therefore intensify the pain experience"

For the tops among my readers, this could probably go one of two ways. The nicer among you may well read this new piece of work, and think "oh gosh, well, I really should make sure that I don't compound my poor bottom's pain by talking about it and making it worse."

Of course, the more likely scenario is that ALL tops reading this will rub their chins in a gleefully evil way, and go "Mua-ha-ha, what interesting information, I need to refine my patter a little bit!"

Then there'll be no end to the "This will hurt you more than it hurts me"s and "You do realise this is going to hurt, don't you"s. Of course, I'm not a top, and therefore not that imaginative in this area, but I'm sure there are plenty of other phrases that could be used to exacerbate a poor bottom's pain.

Head Vs Other Head

The kink is slowly returning. I had my first "proper" spanking courtesy of Emma Jane last weekend. I survived ;-) I think it was good, but if I'm being very honest (and this in no way a reflection on EJ!) mostly I remember being panicky about the sound travelling. Hopefully I'll get less worried about this as time goes on, or maybe experiment with different locations.

That spanking, and conversations with EJ have kick started the kinky part of my brain. There are various fantasies spinning around in there. Dark fantasies, for me, if not for others. Strappings, birchings, canings. Being tied down, having control taken from me, being in someone else's; prison scenarios, reformatory scenarios, things removed from my more normal schoolgirl fantasies.

So that's what the fantasy part of my poor little confused brain is longing for. However, then the other part of my head intervenes. The realistic part. The part that actually has to process the pain. And it tells me to shut the hell up immediately. Because spankings hurt, and strappings hurt, and canings hurt, and though I've yet to experience a birching, only a very silly person would bet on them not hurting. And I don't like pain... and I haven't been spanked in a while... and I don't want to be spanked... probably.

Ack. Which part do I listen to?!