I am really, really depraved. I think I am. Something happened yesterday and it made me think.
You may have noticed the I am something of a submissive kind of girl. I can't explain it but there is a kind of cosiness in having my Felicia run the show. In the beginning it was the spankings, that was really everything to it. It was a bit of fun. But more and more, through the years I have come to enjoy the surrendering to the spankings.
In fact, I am so thrilled by it so I like Felicia to do things to me that I don't enjoy. In a way it has always been like that with spankings, both horrible and good, but sometimes I do long for being a little provoked so I have to struggle with the surrender bit.
I will tell you what happened. Felicia sometimes does things to me that are plain mean. I know she wants to provoke a reaction, take away some of my meekness and test where the limits are.
I do get terrible angry at times and Felicia has told me that this makes her proud of me. She is a strange creature, indeed. But sometimes the reaction is different.
I was standing in the kitchen washing dishes when she came in. I didn't look at her. Instead I continued with what I was doing. I sensed her coming up to me and I wasn't sure if she was to hug me or tickle me or something. That is as much thrill I can cope with.
I was a little surprised when she lifted my skirt. For a second I got this idea of her touching me in some naughty way. I had just started to blush when I realised what she was doing.
She gave me a really hard smack with the dreaded fish slice on my thigh. She managed to hit me on the inside, a good hit, some may say. It really, really hurt. I jumped. I even dropped the plate I was holding.
When I looked at Felicia she had that expression of curiosity and worry. She has that when she isn't sure about my reaction, I think.
Everything in my mind told me I should be angry. I should really have a go at her for being so mean to me. I should really let her have it, all my anger and irritation.
What happens? I stare at her. And then I feel proud. Can you believe it? I feel proud of her. She dared something mean to make me react and I was proud of her for it. And I felt how much I loved her for it.
I really love my wicked, evil and mean and wonderful red haired friend. That is how depraved I am. I love her for being mean to me.