Monday, 31 August 2009
When your hand beats so that I can hardly speak.
And I seem to find the happiness I seek
When we're out together spanking hand to cheek."
Today's song was brought to you by the letter S and then number 6.
And a combination of one very relaxed Eliane, some alcohol, a quiet(ish) street, and some lamposts to dance around.
The lesson I learnt was this: relaxing then drinking is a Bad Idea.
Saturday, 29 August 2009
I'm off to the spa today with friends. Kinky friends. Now, I like my spa, and I'd like to continue being a member, but there are multiple ways that one could get one's membership revoked. So these are the things I won't be doing*:
- Using one of the particularly strong and well positioned jets in the jacuzzi to bring myself off.
- Leaving someone on guard outside the steam room while I get spanked in there.
- Sneaking into the boys sauna to do naughty things.
- Singing rude songs with my friends in the girls changing rooms.
- Being bent over the sun loungers for a spanking.
- Sneaking off into the gardens for a switching.
- Figuring out whether it's actually possible to remove ones bikini bottoms in the jacuzzi without being seen.
- Breaking off a piece of bamboo cane and threatening to use it on my friends.
What other activities do you reckon could get me ejected?
* I may be telling a slight lie here, with regard to at least one of these!
Thursday, 27 August 2009
Having that feeling return was a big step for me. For the first year or so of my spanking journey it was a constant friend. I wasn't thinking "I need to be spanked NOW" every minute of the day, but often I would get that gut-churning longing and desire three or four times a week. To go from that to nothing was hard. The longing can be frustrating and tiresome, especially when you have no play lined up, but for me it's a sign that everything is functioning as it should be, kink wise. When it's not there for a while, you can't necessarily put your finger on what is missing, but you know that something is off kilter in your life.
So having that sudden longing return last week was a great feeling. I was overjoyed. It would have been nice if it had stayed for more than a few minutes, mind you, or popped in to say hi again in the week since it came back, but I will be happy about any and all cravings I have at the moment, no matter how fleeting!
Monday, 24 August 2009
This need for mischief poses an interesting problem for me. As I wrote about in my post on Saturday, I understand the consequences of misbehaving at Lowewood. I will get whacked. End of story. That in itself is not the problem. The problem is that I'm still not quite sure where I stand with regards to spanking at the moment. I've lost that horrible fear I had for a couple of weeks, and I've even had a couple of cravings. The fact of the matter is though that the way things are panning out at the moment, I won't have been spanked, apart from some gentle play at Nimhneach, for weeks. I actually I have no idea what I will be able to take at Lowewood, but I'm fairly sure it won't be the equivalent of what I'm going to earn if I carry out all my little plots. I do have the option of behaving, and not getting into trouble, but I think I've reached the stage where I do just need to let off some steam, or else the volcano really will explode.
Gah. The dilemma. Let off steam, pay the price, maybe have trouble coping with paying the price, OR, not let off steam, and well, who knows. I'm going to a spa for a day next weekend. Maybe that will help relax me and there won't be so much steam!
Sunday, 23 August 2009
This holds true, but I do my own particular brand of competitive subbing. With myself. I don't try and take more than anyone else (because I know I'll fail!) I don't even try and take things particularly stoically, if I'm not in the mood to. What I do try and do, though, is to compete with myself, If I take less than I have done previously, or don't take it as well as last time, I get very cross with myself. I berate myself for being a wimp, pathetic, and all manner of other things. Which is silly really, as so much affects how hard you can play each time that you should just take it for what it is and not beat yourself up if it didn't live up to the last time.
Easy in words. Not so easy in practice.
Saturday, 22 August 2009
Thursday, 20 August 2009
Anyway, having wandered off the point, let's get back to it. It often seems hard to be a submissive woman, especially if you're looking for your Mr Kinky Right. When you fish in a small pool in the first place, it reduces the number of fish in there. On the other hand, if you're looking for play, it's not quite so hard. *Quality* play might be another thing altogether, mind you, but there's always people willing to play with you out there. And if you're new on various websites and obviously sub and female, it might feel like there's hundreds of them!
So yeah, life isn't easy for us, but if you're willing to make compromises, you can generally get to have some fun.
Think how much harder life must be if you're a male dom, or a submissive guy looking for play. There always seems to be more dom men than sub women, and we (as women) can therefore be picky, at least to a certain extent, about who we play with. After all as subs we have to put our safety first, so if you creep us out at all, we'll be off, checking out the next prospect.
Even harder still, must be the life of a sub man. There are many fewer dommes out there, and it seems to be a seller's market. I think that Pro-Dommes comprise the biggest part of the "pay for service" market. If you're a guy wanting to be spanked by a woman, you're only option may well be to pay for it, from what I can see. On the other hand, I'm not even sure there's any M/f professional Doms out there.
My message, after all this rambling, is as follows: if you're a sub woman feeling a bit down about life, the scene, and your lot, think on this. It could be worse. You could be sub guy!
Wednesday, 19 August 2009
- A feisty, sparky 20-something heroine, prone to playing amusing little tricks on people, and in need of a good bottom warming, if you ask me.
- A crusty, but loveable guardian, with his ward's best interest at heart.
- A character called Birch.
- A 50s schoolgirl complete with boater, gymslip and satchel.
- A dashing but villainous man overpowering our heroine at one point.
- Some very nice furniture just made for using in spanking.
You see, once a perve, a perve forever... I can't switch off!
Tuesday, 18 August 2009
So, I played at Nimhneach :-D I wasn't sure whether I was going to or not, and I didn't for the first three or so hours. Eventually though, I plucked up the courage (i.e. got EmmaJane to do the dirty work for me!) and asked Master Retep if he would play with me. And very lovely he was too. We'd spent an hour or so chatting to him and his lovely wife, and I also knew that he'd read my blog posts about my head being in a funny place, so I was happy that we would be careful with me.
I know one should never say this about a Dom, but he was very sweet to me ;-) He kept checking I was OK, and kept everything on the right side of "the line" between bearable with the odd sting added in and "the other side" where there is more pain than not.
I couldn't have coped with being on the "pain" side of the line and Master Retep did a very good job of giving me a lovely spanking with his strap and flogger. The effect was to remind me why I like being spanked in the first place, or at least one element of why I like it: the bending over and feeling that sensation. In fact, I probably got more spacey than I've ever been in a club before. I don't know whether it was because I was lying on a comfy couch, or whether the flogging took me there or what, but I was actually really rather floaty and spaced out when I stood up, which I hadn't expected at all. It was nice!
So thanks, Master Retep, for reminding me that despite my mini meltdown, I'm still a spanko at heart.
Monday, 17 August 2009
Sitting on the flight over to Dublin, I realised that I could extend the metaphor. The curl/wave/kink in my hair is a fragile thing. Do the wrong thing and I can lose it. For instance, sitting in my seat on the plane, I realised the back of my hair was caught behind me, and I was trapping it, hard, between my back and the seat. This would have resulted, fairly quickly, in the kink being pulled out of it.
Maybe this is what I've been doing over the past few months? I've been pulling too hard on my new-found kink and it's a bit more delicate than I realise? Maybe I need to slow down a bit, stop pulling quite so hard and let my kink bounce back once in a while?
Oh, sorry, by the way, if you're waiting to hear about Nimhneach. I'm sure I'll get round to writing about it sometime soon ;-)
Saturday, 15 August 2009
I'm rather excited about my trip. I've not seen EJ for two months, so even if we were sitting inside the whole weekend doing absolutely nothing, it would be lovely, but the fact that I get to meet the lovely and supportive Lollipop, plus lots of Irish kinksters, is a rather yummy added bonus.
Of course, there is the big question in my mind. Will I play? To be honest, I really don't know.
I'm really not sure where my head is, and even if it is getting back to normal, I tend to find spanking in clubs hurts more anyway. Rebecca thinks that this is because clubs tend to be quite hot, and therefore you're slightly clammy and it all stings a bit more than normal. She's probably right as well. As for where my head is, well, I'm no longer cringing in fear at the thought of anything implement related, but I'm not yet anywhere near standing up and shouting "Oh yes, me please!" On the other hand, I did have two very hot spanking related dreams last night. I think I woke up both times before the actual spanking, but I'd certainly been turned on by the anticipation. That's a good thing, right? Hopefully my conscious will catch up with my subconscious sometime soon!
Friday, 14 August 2009
Two days in a row of very good theatre, one show featuring mentions of riding crops and random cane wielding, the other featuring a character who seemed to have misplaced her skirt, but that's by the by. The point of this short, and frankly mostly pointless post, is to comment on the fact that when you go to see very good theatre, you clap. Lots. Hard.
Lots of hard clapping makes my hands hurt. Lots. So, to add to the other 1361 reasons why I could never be a top, we have 1362: my hands are really wimpy and it would hurt too much to spank someone. The realisation that spanking someone by hand must hurt also gives me a sneaking admiration for tops. But don't tell any of them I said that.
Monday, 10 August 2009
"The strap was thin but wide and it HURT so badly. I cried from the first stroke. Not silent tears either, but noisy gulping cries. I don't know how many I got but enough to be truly sobbing by the time he switched to the wooden paddle."
Previously when reading this, I would have thought that it sounded extremely painful, but secretly rather hot. In my present frame of mind, it just sounds painfully scary, and makes me feel a bit sick.
And speaking of sick, I'm getting sick and tired of feeling like this. What's the solution? I'm wondering whether I just need to get on with it, and get a caning/strapping/whatever instead of gradually building things up in my head to be something more than they are. You know, some type of kill or cure scenario. My worry is that it might kill rather than cure.
Sunday, 9 August 2009
The DVLA have the following on sale:
SP57 ANK at £785
F1 LOG, only £1275 to you, sir!
G9 BOT, £390
ST05 RAP, £245
AM51 DOM, £245
AM51 TOP, £245
Or, the best, in my opinion - how about His N Hers?
Saturday, 8 August 2009
I suspected that my pain threshold might be low - I had been ill all the week before, and things like that do have an impact. But that low?!
What I don't understand, though, is that I've lost all desire for anything harder than a hand spanking. The thought of canes, straps, belts, even floggers, makes me feel slightly sick. I know I often don't enjoy some of those (canes!) in the moment, but I still fantasise about them, and want them, even if I know it's going to be excruciating. I wish I could start doing that again. Stupid wonky kink.
Thursday, 6 August 2009
Wednesday, 5 August 2009
The bus was barrelling along a road at about 30 miles an hour when it came up to a patch of low hanging trees. It didn't slow down, and though I ducked enough to avoid most of branches, a VERY low hanging weeping willow managed to catch me pretty hard on the shoulder and arm. It was very whippy, and left a mark dammit.
So that, ladies and gentleman, is how I got birched on the bus.
I hope you weren't expecting anything naughtier?!
Tuesday, 4 August 2009
I'm thinking of solving this problem by creating a vanilla - spanko dictionary. It would have commonly used spanko terms with an explanation of what they are.
"birch" - you know those bunches of decorative twigs that people have in their house? Or maybe a load of young tree branches cut down and tied together? Yup, a bit like that. And yes, it does hurt (or so I'm told!)
Then I could just hand this over to my vanilla friends, they could do some study, and conversations would be much more straight forward.
Monday, 3 August 2009
Apparently a school invited a cane manufacturer in to give them a talk, and then the pupils proceeded to set on him and "give him a taste of his own medicine with his worst cane, all with the approval of the headmaster. (It was a progressive school).
Of course I'm imagining a slightly different scenario. Cane maker gets invited into Sixth Form assembly to give lecture, half the Upper Sixth proceed to set upon the gentleman, wrestle him to the ground and cane him with his own implement. Head of Sixth Form is distinctly unimpressed, and orders all the culprits to the headmaster, where they receive the six of the best they inflicted on the cane maker from the headmaster, and then from the cane maker himself, all using the thick dragon cane he had showed them during assembly, saying that it was his most severe implement.
Sunday, 2 August 2009
If I recall rightly, my introduction to the world of boarding school books was probably Enid Blyton's St Clare's, and the infinitely superior Mallory Towers series. For some reason I think the Naughtiest Girl books mostly passed me by, I certainly don't have any real memories of them.
I loved the Antonia Forest books about the Marlow family, consisting of six sisters (and probably some brothers, though I was never much interested in them in boarding school books!), and focusing on the youngest two, twins Nicola and Lawrie's trials and tribulations and they followed their successful elder sisters to school. I also discovered the Trebizon books, by Anne Digby which I enjoyed, though they were much more contemporary than most of my previous reading. All of these were series consisting of between about 6 and 10 books.
My holy grail, however, was just around the corner, for I was about to discover an author who gladdened the heart of any serial lover: Elinor M. Brent-Dyer, the author of 58 Chalet School books. Yes, you read that right. 58! This series follows a school from its founding, with 3 pupils, through to the eldest daughters of the original first pupil leaving school. The books would never be classed as great literature, or even as particularly well written, but the appeal for me was the consistency of the characters through the years, both in terms of their personality traits, and their presence in the series. The consistency of the world as well - the "ideals" of the Chalet School and its traditions stayed the same through all the books. No, they may not have been well written, but the universe that Brent-Dyer created was an intriguing and enticing one for any young boarding school series fan.
So while my primary motivator for reading boarding school books was not the spanking references, I can't help feeling that years (and I do mean years, most of those books are still sitting in storage!) of indoctrination have left me with a taste for a certain type of school girl role play (and of course sadly departed boarding school blogs!)
Saturday, 1 August 2009
I also hate peanuts. My parents had a friend who worked in a hospital who used to tell horror stories about having to treat children who had choked on peanuts. I think the moral of the story was supposed to be 'chew your food', but the message that I received was 'peanuts are bad and evil'. So, again, I still don't eat peanuts.
Now if someone had just told me a horror story about chocolate when I was a kid, life would be so much simpler now!! Yeah, I know, I know, I could try spanking to put me off chocolate ;-)