Happy Christmas

Christmas is approaching and despite (or maybe because of) the darkness and the cold I am looking forward to it. I hope you do too or at least can have a nice time. I don't have much to tell you at the moment, other than that I will spend my Christmas with redhaired girlfriend and our cat. We will be visiting some relatives and some friends are coming over for New Year. We'll see how much bottom smacking there will be time for but there is always a new year coming.

Take care and be sweet and lovely to yourselves and to your friends and family. A Happy Christmas from Felicia, Bananas (the cat) and me.

Spanking Is Fun!

I guess you knew that already. And I know it too. But what I mean is that it can be fun to do the spanking. I suppose some of you knew that too.

What happened was that yesterday I thought we should switch roles a little. For once there shouldn't be my bottom on the line, if you see what I mean. I told red haired woman that she was in for a spanking. I even said she deserved it. That was stupid. She asked me and I couldn't really say.

I still maintained that she should get a spanking. She looked at me for a while, looking inscrutable. Then she nodded and said that I should go ahead on one condition. That condition was that I was to give her a good one. No fuss, no tapping and gentleness, no, a real spanking, was what she demanded.

Said and done. Felicia was soon lying in my lap, jeans down, knickers down and I was sitting with the hairbrush in my hand. I felt a little nervous and wondered if she ever is nervous. I have done it before but still it felt a little scary.

I began smacking her and tried my best but she wasn't happy. She wanted to feel it, so I smacked her harder. I think she began to feel it, because she was silent for a while.

Felicia has beautiful red hair and quite fair complexion, she isn't the typical freckled redhead but she is quite fair. And when her bottom is smacked it takes on a very nice pink colour. I was (again) fascinated and decided to apply the brush so as to get a nice colouring of her bottom.

I guess I got a little preoccupied with that and forgot about smacking hard. Felicia made some noises that seemed to imply that I was being boring. So I decided to really give it to her.

I felt a little scared but it was also quite fun. I smacked her really hard and I could feel it in her body that it hurt. I had some misgivings but she had told me to do it properly and I knew she would tell me if I hit her too hard.

When I was done her bottom wasn't just pink but had turned into a more fierce red. I knew that colour and I knew how it felt. I knew she would feel this for a while and I was wondering what she would think, sitting there at some seminar or talking with some lecturer, feeling her bottom being a little sore. I was, kind of, proud of what I had achieved.

And so was Felicia. She gave me a hug and told me I had been a good girl. Hadn't it been so silly to say that, I could have been a little annoyed with her, but when she smiles like that, I go for the hug, every time.

Poor Bottom

Redhead woman was in good mood yesterday. I knew it already when she came home. She was very cheerful in a quite worrying way. I shouldn't really say worrying, because when she is in that mood I often end up getting a spanking and you know what I feel about that. Still there is a bit of anticipation beforehand.

When we had finished our dinner she went into the living room and told me, quite arrogantly, that she wanted her tea served. I prepared the tray and brought it in, playing the good servant.

When I had set it down, Felicia told me we wouldn't have our tea, just yet. No, before that I was to stand in the middle of the room, where she could look at me while sitting in her armchair.

I know her well and I was sure this meant she had something on her mind. She had me stand there for some time, while she sat looking at me. Being watched like that is a bit of mixed feelings on my side. And I was, of course, curious, where this would lead.

She even had me turn around, slowly, before she ordered me to take my skirt off. Then I was quite sure where this would end. She had me turn around again before the knickers had to go.

At this time, as you may have guessed, I was blushing. I had to turn around again while she watched. I do get terribly embarrassed, knowing she could see...you know. I am not extremely embarrassed with lovely redhead, but being watched like that, while she was sitting there, fully clothed made me feel it more.

Then she told me to take my top off and lastly my socks (by the way, lovely over the knee, red and black striped socks...). Then I had to put my hands on my head and turn around again.

She knew what she was doing. She had me stand there and pose for her, in the buff, for a while. Then she said that my bottom was in perfect shape.

Although, I know she likes my bottom, she didn't mean it had a perfect shape. No, she was referring to the fact that it was unmarked, smooth and unspanked, and thus, ready for some smacking.

She then had me get the belt. I have mixed feelings about the belt. It is heavy enough to sting but not enough to really pack a punch. She often takes the belt when she wants to smack away with vigour, when she doesn't want to hold back that much.

With the belt in hand she ordered me to kneel on a chair and she began the smacking. Sometimes I think the belt is ok, and not too bad and at first I took it quite well but when she had been doing it for a while it began to be harder.

She is very good at this, she knows what I can and can't take and she noticed I began to be affected. It didn't stop her however, no she just took her time.

I didn't count but I was sure my bottom was quite red and affected when she was done. Then she ordered me into the corner. This is an unusual occurrence. She very seldom orders me into the corner Last time it happened, it also coincided with a hospital soap on telly.

So, there I was, naked, with a well smacked bottom, standing in the corner. I wasn't allowed out until Holby City started (the hospital soap). I could sit with her and watch but wasn't allowed any clothes.

It was then I did something stupid. I said to Felicia that she reminded me of the Naylor (a rather mean character in Holby City). She didn't take it well. My advice is: never compare your beloved partner with a soap villain (of sorts) when you are sitting naked beside her in the sofa, and just have been spanked.

After the programme, she told me to get the hairbrush and I had to go over her knee. A dose with the hairbrush is always much worse when your bottom is prepared with a belt beforehand.

Anyway, Felicia was quite cheerful when we went to bed and I, I slept well.

Feeling Sexy?

This is something I have been thinking about lately. I have been asking myself what makes me feel sexy? I know a lot of people take this for granted but for me, no, it hasn't been like that. For a start, when I grew up, feeling sexy wasn't a luxury that was bestowed on me.

When I was really little, before this question arose, so to speak, I was skinny and looked like a stick. A very small stick but a stick all the same. If I wore a short wide skirt I looked like an ostrich. I wasn't pretty or anything.

I remember a period when I found I wasn't looking as much as a stick any more and for a while I was quite pleased. I did have a bosom, although a small one, but a bosom.

Many women grow up knowing that they are sexy. They may be dissatisfied with this or that but somewhere they know that they are sexy. I don't know if they feel it, I mean, if they get the buzz or what to call it, from it, but they know they are attractive, know they are sexy. I never felt that way.

Felicia was a very quirky girl and weird in many ways but she was also immensely confident. She just didn't care. She was her own and didn't give a toss. I admired that and with her I got confidence and allowed myself to be different and a little quirky too.

It never made me feel attractive, not like she did. She seemed to know, inside her, that she was. I have always doubted myself.

With her this has been changing. First step, I guess, was to realise and accept that she found me attractive. I didn't believe her but she made me understand it was true all the same. There was one person to whom I was attractive...and sexy.

Still I didn't really feel it. It didn't made me feel sexy, it didn't give that tingling feeling in my body.

I know there are so much about this that I don't mention here. Touching, kissing, looking at a gorgeous red haired woman, hearing her say she is going to smack my bottom, all those sort of things make me all tingly but now I am talking about feeling sexy, in yourself, maybe when someone look at you or so.

I had this very private thing (I still blush to write it) about dancing. When I was alone, listening to good music (there are some really sexy music) I could dance and when moving my body, I could imagine I was sexy, like I could feel it was nice to be seen like that.

In reality I was stiff as a stick when out dancing, when other people were there. Alright, it worked when I was too drunk to appreciate it or with really good friends, but it never came easy.

My dear Felicia picked up on that and although she is generally cruel and mean she does want to help me. It was a long journey but I kind of got over my worst inhibition and I could dance with her and even allow her to look at me and sometimes I could feel that sensation in my body, I felt beautiful.

One day, some time ago now, she was sitting down, I was on the floor, dancing. She was watching me and she had that gaze that made me know she liked what she saw. I surfed on that feeling and let myself be watched.

Then she told me to stop. She looked at me and I knew she had something on her mind. She said that I should go on dancing, but not until I took my tunic off. I was wearing a kind of dress/tunic thing, that was rather short and now she commanded me to take it off.

It was a special moment and I decided to not listen to the voice that said I was being a silly girl that looked like a giraffe. Said and done, I slipped out of the dress and danced for her, dressed in knickers only.

It was like I was stripping for her, like I was on a stage and she was the audience. It was magic. I danced for her and I threw caution to the wind and let her watch me. I knew she saw me, my body and all that and I wouldn't let myself feel awkward.

It was one of those moments when you do something you are dead scared of and feel quite happy for being daring. I danced for her and I saw she liked it. I liked it too, I felt beautiful. I felt sexy.

Knickerless Dinner

Some of you may have read about how redhead woman sometimes makes sweet and innocent librarian go to work with no knickers on. This is very mean and unusual and doesn't really cause any problems except that a certain Miranda feels like a naked librarian.

This sort of thing is better done during summer when skirts often are not accompanied by tights. Anyway, Felicia has been bad at this kind of meanness during this summer. She blames it on stress and being generally busy.

Now, come autumn, she seems to have regained some of her inherent meanness and has decided that a knickerless Miranda is a hoot. Since it wasn't really appropriate to have her thus at the library it had to be at home. So yesterday she promptly commanded me to take my knickers off when she got home.

Since I am such an obliging and obedient girl I did what I was told. I even accepted to stay knickerless when cooking our dinner.

Felicia wouldn't be the mean redhead she is if she didn't find ways of utilising this state of affairs. She took it on herself to inspect my work in the kitchen and do it often.

Every now and then she popped into the kitchen, equipped with a bath brush, to encourage me and urge me on. This urging on meant lifting my skirt and delivering a couple of hard swats with said brush on my unclad bottom.

She found it quite hilarious and the cat was amused. Miranda, herself, was less keen but since she is so kind and gentle she let redhead have her way.

When dinner was ready and we were about to sit down to eat, Felicia thought I should have a proper spanking before having my dinner. A proper spanking meant, skirt up and some twenty hard smacks with the bath brush.

Then when we sat down, the mean woman had me lift my skirt and sit directly on the chair. This was, however, not such a bad idea. Hot bottom was actually cooled down by surface of kitchen chair.

Well, to be honest, the evening was a rather nice one and since Felicia had time to swat my bottom she also had time for some hugging and cuddling and what that sort of thing may lead to.

Plimsolls

Where we live there is this shop that sells clothes and shoes really cheap. It's so inexpensive so you get suspicious, you know, lovely pink ballerinas for a couple of quid and that sort of thing.

Anyway, the other day I found a lovely pair of plimsolls for almost nothing there and took them home to proudly show them for lovely redhead. They were red and very nice, that kind of colour you can't deny yourself, a colour you want to paint something in.

'What a splendid idea,' someone said when they saw the shoes. And it wasn't the cat. I thought it was an odd thing to say but she approved of my shoes and I didn't think more of it.

The next day, Felicia came home with a similar pair, from the same shop. My first thought was that I finally had influenced her in her choice of clothes. I was wrong.

She had chosen a black pair that looked very nice too. She wanted to try them at once. I told her to go ahead and try them.

Thing is, she hadn't bought them to put on her feet. No, she thought that a pair of plimsolls was missing in our collection of toys and trying them included yours truly.

You have heard it before. I was soon lying face down, on her knees, skirt flipped up and knickers around my knees, prepared for a 'slippering', which is the correct term for it. I suggested 'plimsolling', which she liked.

It's amazing what impact a brand new plimsolls can have on your naked behind. Although she had never done it before, she showed her immense adaptability and general skill and got in some really bad ones.

She didn't spank me for long, that is true, but she did it with some vigour and she thoroughly enjoyed it, I could tell.

Although they were brand spanking (pun intended) new and clean as anything, it is, kind of, degrading to be spanked with a shoe. This aspect was to the liking of mean redhead. She even said that 'kick arse' got a whole new meaning. She chuckled at that. Personally, I don't think it wasn't very witty. I didn't tell her, not then, anyway.

The bright side of it was that I got a spanking, which was long overdue and that was a good thing. It hurts, indeed it does, but it cheers you up.

A Brilliant Idea

'I have a brilliant idea,' a certain redhead said to me yesterday evening.

'Hmphff,' I said, or something similar. Her brilliant ideas often mean just one thing.

'You had some good response for your delurking post, right?'

'Yeah.'

'I thought that I should do something too.'

'Yeah.'

'I think I will go and get your hairbrush and give you, say, ten smacks for each of the comments.'

'What a stupid idea,' I said.

'No, it is a brilliant idea.'

'So I am going to get a spanking because I get comments, and more because I get more comments?'

'Yes.'

'That's not fair.'

'I think it is very fair. Your readers have made an effort to comment and it is right and proper that you should do something in return.'

'Like getting a spanking?'

'Yes.'

'Hmpfff.'

'I'll get your hairbrush while you take your knickers down and then we can begin.'

There is always something very annoying when something like that is said in a very cheerful voice. And I hope you noticed that she called it my hairbrush. She is the only one who use it.

A little later I was lying across her knee, knickers down and skirt flipped up. There was a bit of bargaining, me thinking ten for each comment was a little too much, but lying like that is not a good position for negotiations.

'Do you want warm up?' she then asked.

'Does the warm up count?'

'Of course not.'

'No, then.'

She then began in earnest to make sure I was grateful for all the comments. She smacked me in tens and waited a little in between. The hairbrush is very big and very heavy, at least in Felicia's hand.

When she had come to the sixth comment, and I was thinking that it still was a long way to go, although my bottom thought it was quite enough, she stopped and thought for a while.

'This really cheers me up. I think, there should be one with the belt for each comment too.'

'That's not fair.'

'Two, then.'

'You can't just change the rules all the time.'

'Three.'

'Oh, I'll keep my peace,' I sighed, knowing that she was impossible to talk to when she was in this mood.

She promptly delivered the rest with the hairbrush, and I can tell you that it was far from as easy to take them as it is to write it here.

You can't kneel on a chair with a skirt, at least not when you are supposed to present your bared bottom to be smacked. So it had to come off, along with my knickers.

39 with the belt sounds a lot. I didn't mean the pun when I wrote this, but it is true that it sounds a lot. There is a very special sound, when the belt hits the skin. And the fact that it is your own skin makes the sound even louder.

Anyway, it was quite a thrashing. Felicia was in a good mood afterwards and I would be lying if I said I wasn't. You know how it is. It hurts and it's bad and all that but when it is over it is quite nice, bottom is warm and your friend is happy.

Today my bottom is still a little sore, which makes me think of you, dear readers. I am a very nice person because I actually enjoyed taking the thrashing for you...smiles.