Sunday 16 January 2011

Dear Diary

Dear Diary.

It's not bloody fair. Stupid school. I'm so misunderstood. You're the only one who gets me. Even Caoilfhionn isn't on my side any more. It's NOT FAIR!!! You'd think, maybe, that people would have pleased with me, right?! I was in sick bay in the morning, so I missed all of morning school, and all the various pranks they played, so I looked like a mini angel in comparison to the rest of them. I behaved all through the classes. I really tried in Art, even though I'm crap. I listened in history to the new teacher, Major Payne, even though his map of the world was a bit freaky and mixed up... Someone said it was what the world used to look like, but it just looked like everything was sideways to me.

I was really enthusiastic in Religious Education, which was all about the dangers of Satanism. I even acted out a piece on the Milgram experiment. (Or it might have been Mildew. Mr S seemed a bit confused.) in English. Or was it Psychology? I wasn't quite sure. But anyway, I really paid attention and everything, and at the end of the day got not just PLUS housepoints, but PLUS THIRTY! And it still wasn't bloody enough.

I got pink slipped and had to go and see Reverend Jenkins. Some idiot had put pictures of the New Years Eve party I had on Facebook, so I got beaten for allowing minors to drink hard liquor. Like it's my fault if people go and raid the drinks cabinet.

You would have thought that I'd have some support in Caoilfhionn, but no, she was too busy being head bloody girl. And talk about a power trip. All that stuff everyone says about power corrupting, well, they are TOTALLY right. It was like she was possessed or something. Bossing everyone about. She spent all afternoon trying to get me to tuck my shirt in and straighten my tie. She was driving me up the wall. One tiny little bit of power, and it goes straight to her head. I want my friend back.

But worst of all was the end of the day. Everyone else ended up in detention because of the balloon stunt, and serves them right. (Of course I would have ended up in detention for that as well if I hadn't been in the san, but that's not the point.) I thought I'd be safe, not having been in class and all that. But ohhh nooo. Apparently, my uniform was a "disgrace" so that was what I was being put in detention for... I wouldn't mind, but the only thing wrong was my skirt!! I even had black knickers on probably for the first time in my life. And I was only wearing the wrong skirt because I couldn't find my uniform one because Grandmother and the servants had been sick with flu, so I'd had to do my packing myself. And the thing was, it was black, and pleated (though the pleats were in the wrong direction...!)

So anyway, I end up in detention with Mr Brown and Major Payne, and they say we're all getting twelve from each of them. Well, I was seriously pissed off about that, and I didn't bother to try and hide it, so then I got a lecture on attitude. Yawn. I got six from Mr Brown with the cane, and then six from the Major with some strap. I was still seriously pissed off, and was talking back to them, so they said if I didn't show a change in attitude after the next 12, then I'd have to have even more. Well its not me who needs to change my attitude, it's them! They were totally picking on me. All I'd done is wear the wrong skirt, which was NOT MY FAULT ANYWAY, like I tried to explain to them. But they wouldn't listen, and they said I was raising my voice to them and I wasn't and it wasn't fair. And then Major Payne got even more evil. He dragged me up to the front BY MY EAR and then they gave me six more each, and he used the most evil wooden paddle I've ever felt. In the end I said I was sorry, because I wanted them to stop beating me, but I had my fingers crossed so it totally doesn't count.

And do you know what, if Caoilfhionn had been there, I bet she would have said I even deserved it!
Diary, it's not fair, I'm so misunderstood. I try to be good but they all hate me. You're the only one that understands me.

I'm going to go and cry now.


(Editor's Comment: Eliane would like to point out that she had a wonderful time at Lowewood, even if Jemima did feel a little persecuted!)

Saturday 15 January 2011

Spanked Out Of A Strop?

I'm not all that good at being tired. Or ill. I'm one of these people who very quickly starts being affected by either. I have friends with young children who have got so used to disturbed nights and constant colds that they can go for days being really quite personable on a few hours sleep a night. I, on the other hand, need my eight hours. Well, seven at a push. And if I don't get them, I become moody, and stroppy, and not a nice person, very quickly indeed. It's the same with being ill. It doesn't take much to turn me into a bit of a grumpy cow.

I sometimes wonder how a top would handle this, if there was one around when I was in the middle of having a grump. Would it be best just to ignore me and let me get on with it? Possibly, but I also have a fantasy of having the grump spanked out of me. Of someone reaching tolerance point with me, dragging me over their lap and spanking hard, spanking me to tears so that all the grump and strop and mood was spanked right away. Thrashing it out of me. Teaching me that it's not OK to take it out on other people when I feel under the weather, that a few hours lost sleep or having a stuffed up nose does not give me an excuse to be rude and snappy.

In reality, I'm not so sure whether that would work. Fantasies are all well and good, but whether that sort of scene would work for me in real life, or whether my natural tendency towards insubordination and stubbornness would just make me too indignant with such treatment and actually make me worse, I don't know. But, as usual, I'd love to hear from others. When you're in that sort of frame of mind, would spanking help, or would it just make things worse?

Wednesday 12 January 2011


There has been much debate recently on twitter, and on blogs about body shape and size of spankees. This debate has stemmed from two main sources. One is the comments that some people think it is acceptable to make about a spankees size/weight/appearance, especially about professional spankees and models, as discussed by Leia-Ann here. Commenting on people's appearance in a negative way is not cool guys, OK? Though I'm sure you know that. Also there is this perspective from a taller lady in response to a blogpost where someone implied that tall bottoms should only be spanked by taller tops!

It's an interesting point. Is there some sort of rule that says that a top should be physically bigger or stronger than the people they are spanking? Is it in some way aesthetically unpleasant if this doesn't happen? Does it mean that the top will be less effective or that the bottom will somehow have a poorer experience?

Well, as far as I'm concerned, any suggestion along those lines is utter rubbish. I'm, as I've said before, not small, and probably larger than at least half of the people who've topped me over the past couple of years. So has that made a difference? Of course not. I've played with people who are six foot plus, I've played with at least two people who are barely five feet tall – Adele Haze and Amy Hunter. And at both ends of the spectrum they've been able to top me just fine. In fact, I'd go as far to say that Amy, in her guise as Miss Hammond-Grant (or HamandEggs, take your pick!) at Finishing School, is quite possibly one of scariest tops I've ever met!

For me, the ability to top me, or even dom me, bears no relation to size. It is all about mindset. It is all about putting me in that place where I am willing to bend over and take what's coming. It's about demeanour, tone of voice, what you actually say. The truly successful people are those who know just the right buttons to press to get the reactions they want from you. They don't need to be physically superior. They don't need to be intellectually superior, though many are. They just need to have that ability to say the right thing at the right time!

Tuesday 4 January 2011


What constitutes bravery in our world? I suppose many people who look at us from the outside might consider that there is an element of bravery in what we do. That, or stupidity! But what do you consider to be brave?
Is taking your first ever spanking brave? Undoubtedly. Bending over to experience something that you've thought about, dreamed about, fantasised about for possibly many, many years is brave. What if it doesn't live up to all those wonderings? Can you trust the person you're playing with? It's a brave thing to do.
Giving your first spanking is similarly brave, not only are there the years worth of fantasies that you might be about to ruin, but you also have the responsibility for someone else's well-being in your hands.
Is letting someone strap you down to a whipping bench for a judicial punishment that will be the hardest thing you've ever experienced, brave? Having read accounts from Emma Jane of her judicial birchings and canings, can there be any doubt that it is?
Taking a spanking or caning without flinching or making a fuss is brave as well, I doubt I'll find any argument there.
But how about this scenario? A caning. Standing up after every other stroke. Clutching your bottom, eventually crying. Doesn't really sound that brave... But how about if I position it a little differently? Standing up, and clutching yes, maybe even begging for it to stop. But it is probably the hardest caning that you've ever had. One that will leave some serious bruising. One that is a punishment, but a punishment that you requested for having done something that you don't want to do again. I think (and to be fair, I'm pretty biased!) that even though the caning isn't taken in a “perfect” manner, it's still a pretty damn brave thing to do.

Sunday 2 January 2011

2010 - The Year That Was

2010 was a fantastic year for me. In my personal life I moved house, found a new job, and took part in something that I really wanted to take part in. In my kink life I did a whole host of wonderful things.

I had a wonderful relaxing weekend away with friends in January, where I had a seriously hot beating, which was totally unplanned.
I spent February in the throes of moving, punctuated only briefly with an embarrassing trip to Coco de Mer.
March was really a kink free zone, but in April things got back on track, with my first proper spanking in the house, my first birching, a kinky girls trip to Wales and the culmination, my house warming party.
May had Lowewood, where Jemima failed miserably to behave.
In June I decided that the time had come to expand my spanko horizons beyond Europe, and I headed off to the Florida Moonshine Party to taste my first ever big American spanking party. Jemima also got into trouble AGAIN at Lowewood for wearing inappropriate knickers. Poor girl.
July saw me having in mini nervous breakdown trying to learn to cane, as well as celebrating my birthday, and going to some very fun parties.
August was the month my birthday party actually took place, shared with the wonderful Indy. In fact there was quite a lot of spanking happened in August.
Stubbornness was the word of the month in September, which saw me being caned to tears over a marshmallow, and beaten as a reformatory girl who was going to need a hell of a lot more reforming.
October disappeared in a haze of rehearsals, with the shining point of a holiday in there. Most of November was also eaten by show as well, but there was a kinky light in the darkness, which was Jemima being shipped off for a weekend at finishing school.
And so we reach the end of the year. December was filled with parties, spankings, more spankings, more parties, snow cancelling kinky trips, balls, and Christmas. It culminated, as is the way in December, with New Years Eve, which contained both one of the hardest canings I've ever had, and me packing my house with kinksters for a New Years Eve party. After all, if you haven't stripped down to your underwear and started dancing round the room by 12:15, it's not really New Year's Eve, is it? Or something...

Briefly skimming back through this post to write this has reminded me of all the amazing times I've had this year. All the "old" friends I've got to know better, all the new friends I've made, these are the people who make this life for me. At the end of the day, a kinky life is not actually about the physical kink, not deep down. That can only happen and be really successful if you have the people to share it with, to do the beatings, or watch the beatings, or share in the beatings, or the fun, or the weekends away. So to every single person who has shared in my kinky life this year, thank you. Here's to many more adventures together in 2011.

Happy New Year, everyone.