Friday, 12 November 2010

Punished


'You haven't been blogging for a long time, why is that?'

Felicia's voice was quite hard.

'Well, there hasn't been much to write about,' I replied.

'That is not really an excuse, your readers will feel abandoned, all the same.'

'What can I do?'

'Write.'

'About what?'

'I can help you. I have a remedy.'

'Not a surprise, you are the Doctor.' (this is a joke, Felicia has finished her PhD, maybe I should have written about that??).


At Felicia's request we reconvened in our living room. Felicia was equipped with a cheese board, a bath brush and the thick belt. I could see that she saw the need for a powerful remedy.


Without further ado, I was ordered to take off all my clothes. She explained that this was, really, a punishment and should be done properly. Properly means, in this context, maximal embarrassment and pain for Miranda.


I stripped off while she stood looking. There is something about being watched when undressing. And especially if the one watching is keeping their clothes on. At least I become quite self conscious and embarrassed. I knew this was what she wanted so I took it as part of it all.


I was placed on a chair so I could watch the tools she had taken out. Then she left me. I knew it was part of the punishment, but still it was quite nerve wracking to sit naked on a chair staring at some things that soon would be used on me.


Felicia is a patient woman. I am not, especially when in the nude. She waited for at least half an hour before she came back.


Then it was spanking time. Miranda had to climb the chair and kneel on it. Felicia set to work on Miranda's bottom and for this she chose the cheese board.


The cheese board is quite hard and quite heavy. At least it seems very heavy when applied on my naked bottom. Felicia is mean and persistent and soon my bottom was burning.


When she had stopped she explained that this was to be a good hiding so I shouldn't assume she was ready with me yet. No, she sent me into the corner. We don't do corners but maybe Felicia has decided to change that.


I don't know what is worst, sitting naked on a chair, staring at menacing tools or standing naked in a corner, with spanked bottom turned towards ogling redhaired woman, waiting for even more whacking of said bottom.


After a while it was time to climb the chair again and this time it was the belt. The feeling of the belt is quite different, although quite pronounced on a newly spanked bottom. And she kept on for a while.


I am not a girl who starts crying for all and everything, but now I was overcome with it and it felt quite good to let the tears come.


Then is was back to the corner. The third time I was placed in Felicia's lap while she applied the mean bath brush to my buttocks.


I don't know where she gets her determination. She has this strange ability to close her mind to the suffering of her fellow human beings. At least my suffering. She really kept on for a while, despite my bottom being quite red. I hadn't inspected it, but I knew what it felt like and I knew what kind of colour it usually corresponds to.


She was quite happy when she was done and in her kindness she placed me, yet again, in her lap, this time to apply lotion on my burning behind. I wasn't allowed clothes, so I lay there in the sofa, watching telly in the buff, the only light in the room, besides the telly, being my red bottom.


I will try my best to avoid this kind of punishments in the future. I will try to blog more.





Thursday, 23 September 2010

Funny Games

Gosh! I haven't been blogging for a while. I am so sorry. My only excuse is that my life has been quite boring, you know, work, work, and more work and not much of fun.


Today, at least, my bottom is sore. It is, actually, very sore, to the extent that it isn't very easy to sit down. We had a bit of a marathon yesterday.


We were both in agreement that there has been very little action lately. This had to be remedied. Felicia was quite keen and she asked me if I was up to it.


Alarm bells should be ringing by now. Felicia doesn't often ask me if I want to be spanked. It is part of our agreement, that she merely decides. Asking me meant she had some idea that could be a tad harsher than usual.


It was very kind of her to ask, but I was up to it, of course. I trust her.


Felicia had invented this spanking game, played with dice. It is very silly but what it does is that it adds an element of inevitability to it all. At least the kind of game she came up with.


I will explain. First you throw a die to decide how many different implements should be used and how many times you should be spanked. The four I got may not seem as a real marathon. If you are really evil or brave you may always add two dice.


For each of these times you are going to be spanked you throw one more to decide which implement. We had a range of hairbrush, bath brush, belt, cheese board, fish slice and bamboo stick (I know they are dangerous but if you are careful and check so they don't split they won't cut you...they are evil still).


Then for each implement you throw three dice and multiply to calculate the number of whacks. The clever ones have realised there is a range between one and 216. Bamboo stick only got two dice...there is some limit to evil.


You get the idea. What this does to you is that it introduces a certain amount of fear into the proceedings. You don't know what will come next.


My first was the belt and I got 45. So, I climbed the chair but not before taking my skirt and knickers off (what do you think? of course it has to be on the bare!). It was a bit scary to know that it was 45 to come, no more, no less.


Anyway, the belt isn't that bad, but when you know it is only the beginning. Felicia does take her task very seriously so I can assure you I was left with a certain stinging and burning sensation after the session with the belt.


The next was twelve with the hairbrush. That was almost a disappointment, but I was happy. Felicia tried to make the most of them, though.


Then came the real horror. I got the bamboo stick. Eighteen with the bamboo stick can be terrible.


Obediently (what else would you expect from me?) I knelt on the chair and stuck my, still bare, bottom out. Ouch! I can tell you it took some time. There was a lot of wriggling of bottom, flailing of hands and wailing, I can assure you.


Felicia had me look at my bottom in the mirror and it looked, how should I put it, affected. She looked really proud, the evil woman.


One more to go. I wouldn't have minded four with some flat implement, but instead it was 90 with the belt, again. Ouch.


The belt isn't the worst kind of spanking you can get. The belt isn't too heavy but on an already whacked bottom, it hurts.


Evil red haired woman was actually quite fascinated by the state of my bottom afterwards. In her defence, it has to be said that she was really proud of me for having endured.


Anyway, this new game is silly but it adds something, I think. My bottom doesn't like it at all, but maybe I do...at least a little.


Thursday, 19 August 2010

In the Wild

Holiday was long and nice, that is true, but the way we spent it meant very little action, if you know what I mean. There is one event I thought I should tell you about, though.


For about a week we borrowed a car from Felicia's uncle and went around exploring the countryside. Yeah, we are that boring. This particular day we were driving along a rather small road with almost no traffic, believe it or not.


Suddenly Felicia pulled over and turned into a small dirt road. As it happened it was more like a crescent that ended back on the road again, but where we stopped we were hidden from the road by a lot of trees.


I don't know if she knew about this place or if she just saw it and chanced on it. Anyway, I didn't know why we had stopped.

'Too early for a break, innit?' I said.

'For tea and biscuits, yes,' she replied.


I should know her by now but the place and the occasion made me not read her face. She went out of the car, went over to the boot, rummages through it and came round to my side. She opened the door.


'Come on now.'

'Wha'?' I wondered, of course, but I stepped out of the car.


It was a lovely day, one of the really lovely days this summer. Felicia went over to a kind of boulder by the road and beckoned me to come forward.


It was then I saw that she had my hairbrush in her hand. I may be slow, but I am not stupid. Still I couldn't believe what I was seeing.


Felicia put her foot on the boulder and tapped her thigh. In any other circumstance this would have been a clear signal. I had to check the environment. In fact, we weren't completely hidden from the road. There was a small gap between the trees, where someone passing by could see us. Obviously this made me less reluctant to understand what she was saying.


'Come on now.'

I am a very nice girl, you know that, and with Felicia's supreme ability to convince me, I complied. I did, actually, lean over her knee.


'Knickers,' she said.

'You can't be serious,' I replied.

'Come on.'


So, there I was, knickers down, skirt up, leaning over her knee, in the middle of the day, by a public road, getting a spanking.


I was very nervous, thinking that a car passing by, with someone turning their head at the right moment, would get a glimpse of my bottom.


It wasn't the worst spanking of my life. But surely one of the most exciting. And scary. We both laughed and giggled as we returned to the car. There is something abut outdoor spankings that cheers you up.


Felicia had another card up her sleeve (although she wore a spaghetti strapped top with no sleeves, wonder how she managed that??). Before we returned to the car, she had me take down my knickers completely and give them to her. She put them in the glove compartment and we went on with me knickerless.


She even had me pull my skirt up, just like that scene in Story of O. She is clever, my Felicia. She knows how it makes me feel.


Monday, 9 August 2010

Back Again

Hello, I am back, we are back!! Have had a brilliant time and hope you have had a brilliant time, as well. The only downside with visiting relatives and friends is that there is not much opportunities for the smacking of bottoms. There is a clear deficit in that department at the moment, although redhaired friend has made an effort, since our return, to address this issue. I will tell you more soon. Take care and be happy.


Friday, 18 June 2010

F1 Racing and Its Consequences

We, that is Felicia, cat and me, sat down to watch the Canadian Grand Prix, this Sunday and to my great delight, I was treated to another Hamilton win. Now he has won two consecutive races and is at the top of the leader board. This causes for celebration. And who would suggest the form of those celebration but red haired and very proud woman?


I don't know what she was thinking but she frankly declared that although we didn't have any bets on the races this year, she thought it only right and proper that I would get to celebrate my hero winning by giving her a sound smacking.


Miranda is not a girl to miss such an opportunity. When I had made sure she wasn't just teasing me, I rushed off to get the hairbrush. Felicia had the smile on her face of someone who knows they are doing something good, like giving sweets to children or giving something to charity.


I wasn't seduced by her saintly smile and ordered her promptly to remove trousers and knickers.

'No, not on the bare!' she gasped and made big eyes.

'Oh, yes, young lady, on the bare,' I replied with my deepest voice.


Despite silliness, red haired woman's trousers and knickers came off and soon she was lying in my lap and I was having a go at her bottom.


It is hard to smack such a lovely bottom. When I told her, she said she had no understanding at all for my sentiment. I replied with a hard whack with the brush.

'Ha, that will shut her up,' I thought.

'That's not a spanking, you meekness personified,' she said.

I replied with an even harder smack.


I got into it and despite Felicia's attempts of not taking it seriously, I think she felt it too. She seemed more focussed after a while and I felt better.

'Making an impression?' I thought but didn't say out loud.


It is fun spanking a woman like her. I can, sort of, understand why she does it. I am not an expert, but a happy amateur, but I did get something of the buzz, I think.


Anyway, I smacked her as good as I was able and her lovely bottom turned pink. Since Mr Hamilton had won two races in a row, I thought it only proper to continue with the spanking a little longer.


Everything has to come to an end and even great things like spanking a red haired woman have to. She looked at me in a very strange way when she emerged from my lap and before she even had time to pull her knickers up she kissed me. That was very nice. One thing led to another but that is another story.


I have something I have to let you know, before I stop writing this post. For various reasons – like relatives and friends and being away from home and that sort of thing – I will not be blogging for a while. I will be back in August, for sure, so come back then and perhaps I will have a story or two to tell you about the summer, we'll see. Take care and have a lovely time, Lovely Readers!



Friday, 4 June 2010

Stinging

As many spankos I tend to be a little preoccupied with the tools, liking some better than others and so. Yesterday my dear Felicia showed me an example of how I should think less of what I am spanked with and more of how it is done.


The hairbrush is a favourite of ours, it really is. It gives the right amount of pain and it is not too heavy, not too light. Felicia showed me, however, what a vicious thing it can be.


If someone you love takes you over her knee and pulls your knickers in order to spank you, it is something that can be quite enjoyable...in that very special spanko way, that mix of dread and pain and excitement. You know what I mean.


That happened yesterday and since redhaired woman was holding the hairbrush in her hand I thought of knew what was going to happen. She, on the other hand, had something different in mind. She wanted to surprise me.


If you use a hairbrush on someone's bared bottom and you apply it quickly and hard and keep on for a while even the nice hairbrush becomes really grim.


Don't think badly of fierce ginger woman. She did surprise me, though. It hurt and I was a little shocked but it was more like: 'blimey...ouch...that hurt...mean woman...didn't know you could do that with a hairbrush' sort of thing. And she didn't spank me that long, it was just that it felt like a long time while she smacked me. It left me with a rather warm and cosy warmth in my bottom and we did have a lovely evening afterwards.


Spanking is for fun and sometimes a little surprise can make it even more fun.


By the way, the removed comment issue is all sorted now. Thank you for being so understanding. Maybe I won't get a spanking for it then...



Wednesday, 12 May 2010

Apologies Where Apologies Are Due

Just a short one. I just wanted to set something straight. During the last couple of days I have been involved in an email conversation with someone who calls themselves Jim. This conversation started out friendly but has become increasingly abusive. I won't say more than this about it. And I am not going to apologise for what I said during this conversation, far from it.


What I wanted to say was that almost at the same time as one of those emails arrived in my inbox a comment appeared on my blog. This comment was perfectly friendly (given the nature of my blog suggestions to my red haired friend to make my spankings more painful may be seen as friendly...grins!). But it was signed by someone who called themselves Jim.


I assumed it was the same person, the one writing emails, so in my annoyance I removed it. Thing is, I am not completely sure, any more. So – this is what I wanted to say, really – if there is a perfectly decent person leaving comments on my blog calling yourself Jim and you are not identical to the one with the nasty emails, I wish to sincerely apologise to you. I am really sorry I removed your comment.



Tuesday, 11 May 2010

Slip of the Tongue

Did you watch the Spanish Grand Prix, this weekend? We did. I can only congratulate Mark Webber for winning but before he did, something extraordinary happened.


Lewis Hamilton was set to take second place and all was going smoothly. That is, until the penultimate lap. Can you believe it, he had a puncture. I was in shock.


When I am like that, I tend to say stupid things. What I said was something along the lines of 'Nooooo...I can't believe it....spank me...this can't be true....aaaarrrgghhh!!'


Someone very red haired in close proximity picked up on a tiny part of my ramblings. 'That can be arranged,' she said and I swear, she had a very content smile on her face.


She wasn't in her cruel mood, no she was smiling and said she was happy to oblige. She had me get the hairbrush and soon I was across her lap, skirt up and knickers down.


All right, it wasn't too bad. The hairbrush is not too painful, I kind of like the hairbrush. I hadn't expected it but when it happened I could, sort of, enjoy that warm feeling I always get in my bottom after a spanking.




Friday, 7 May 2010

Welcome to Reality

Warning, this is a completely spanking free blogpost, so if this will make you disappointed you may stop reading now. What I wanted to say was only that we have had a general election here in the United Kingdom which resulted in a balanced or hung parliament.


This fact is taken as a disaster by many, that not one party have a proper majority of MPs. They are upset that now the parties may have to negotiate and form coalitions. To this I only want to say: 'welcome to reality'.


It is the common way in many democracies, that not one party gains majority, that parties have to compromise and negotiate. It is only in strange systems, as those in UK and USA, where the number of MPs, or similar, isn't proportional to the number of votes, this doesn't happen all the time.


No, I am not turning political and this blog will definitely not be a political blog. Just wanted to say this.


Anyway, this calls for the telling of a joke (mind you, a phonological joke, not a racist joke). It goes like this:


A British politician travels to the Far East and is treated to a fancy dinner where she has to politely converse with her host. She tries to show her interest in the political system.

'How often do you have elections?'

The man, by her side, looks confused and a little embarrassed. Then his face opens up in a big smile.

'Evely molning.'



Thursday, 29 April 2010

This and That

This will be a very short blogpost. Yes, Miranda is sloppy and lazy and she really deserves both this and that. Anyway, I don't have time to write much, just wanted to share this little thing with you.


Felicia is a busy woman, you know that, by now. Yesterday she took her time, though, to enjoy herself with the cheese board. You know what I think about the cheese board. It is way too hard and way too heavy to be really delightful. Felicia thinks this is good. 'It really packs a punch' as she so sweetly puts it.


Not that I dislike the cheese board, I love it, in my own way, but there is a bit of mixed feelings, that is very true. This time, I was leaning towards the 'no it is a tad too much' side of it all and when she took it out I began to negotiate with her.


She would have nothing of it. I got a choice between the armrest of the sofa and kneeling on a chair, but the removing of skirt and taking down of knickers were not negotiable. 'It has to be on the bare,' she said. 'Why?' I asked. 'Because,' she said. And that was that.


I negotiated a nice big pillow for the armrest so I went for that. Otherwise it is very uncomfortable. The price was no top and skirt and knickers completely removed.


Soon a very naked Miranda was placed on the armrest of the sofa, waiting for the cheese board to descend on her bottom.


I got twelve. It hurt and my bottom was really red afterwards, and had that kind of tingling sensation that sometimes comes after a good hiding, almost like a numbness but a numbness that is sharp, if you see what I mean...or rather feel.


Felicia was in a really good mood and I felt, kind of, relieved when it was over. It is strange how almost euphoric you can be after a spanking.


Right, an euphoric, newly spanked and very naked Miranda and a quite cheerful red haired woman with a cheese board in her hand. That can only end in one way.

No, not more spanking. I was thinking of something far sweeter than that.



Friday, 23 April 2010

You Know What This Means?

Right, it's not been much action on this blog including Miranda's bottom, lately. I do not count the last fantasies and stories as action...smiles. Anyway, the main reason is that said bottom has been quite left alone for a while.


That was until yesterday. It was in the evening, I had cooked for my beloved Felicia and fed the greedy cat. It is usually I who cook, not because I am some domestic slave or anything, it has more to do with health and safety. I will say no more.


Anyway, I was washing the dishes afterwards and was just done when a certain red haired woman came into the kitchen, holding a tea mug in her hand.

'Look what I found.'

'A tea mug...?'

'Shouldn't you have washed it?'

'I can do it next time.'

'I really think this is sloppy.'


If you don't know us, this may not sound weird but to me the conversation had taken on a slightly surreal tone.


'You know what this means?' she said and smiled a very evil smile.

I will remind you of the fact that we don't do the 'have you been a naughty girl' and any kind of 'discipline' or 'bettering of ones character' and that sort of thing. Spanking is for fun, full stop.


Yet I felt a strange kind of thrill when she said that. I knew what she meant. It was, kind of, silly, but I had to play along.

'It's just a tea mug.'

'Don't argue, go and get the hairbrush.'


I got her the brush. She had already placed the chair so she could sit down on it. I was wearing shorts in some sort of hope that the right dress would bring the right weather. Soon enough it was down shorts, down knickers and across redhead's lap.


Despite the silly pretext I had longed for it. Sometimes I really enjoy that sense of dread that comes with taking your clothes down and laying yourself down to get your bottom smacked.


Felicia is good with the hairbrush. In a way she was in a good mood, kept it on an acceptable level. It was stinging and demanding focus but not unbearable.


She is evil, you know that, don't you? She kept on until it became a little too painful, a little of 'I have had enough of this, now'. Then she stopped. But she wasn't done. No, she ordered me to remove shorts and knickers and climb the chair, while she got the belt.


'Oh, Miranda, your bottom is already red, almost a pity to use the belt on it.'

Not that it stopped her. No, the belt was there and it had to be used.


I don't know if the belt is really that bad, but the sound is very, how should I put it, terrifying. It has the right 'swish' and the right 'whack' to make an impression.


I was quite sore when she was done, and all for a silly tea mug. She even had me stand in the corner, bottom turned towards her, so she could see it while watching telly.


They say that variation spices up your sexlife, maybe that is true for your spanking life too. It is hard, though, to take this kind of thing seriously when you are giggling all the time. Not that hairbrushes and belts are not serious enough but what I meant was the silly pretext.




Wednesday, 14 April 2010

Some More Running in the Park

It is obvious that not only my imagination is sparked by parks and goal posts. Jim sent me this story and with his permission I am putting it here. I think this is hilarious, a great thank you to Jim for this story.


Miranda and Felicia's have a friend called Tom. He is centre-forward for a pub team that plays football in the park. One Saturday evening Tom came round. He asked if he could leave two big wicker baskets at Felicia and Miranda's place:

'These need to be at the pitch by 11am tomorrow morning. I daren't leave them at my house tonight; my sister’s kids are staying and they are into everything!

Tom flipped open the lid of one of the baskets; it was full of tuck shop treats: Mars Bars; Twix; Bounty Bars; Kit-Kats; Yorkies. There were also packets of crisp with every imaginable flavour represented.

‘The lads have to have their snacks after the match; running around in the cold makes ‘em ravenous! This other basket has our clobber. I'll pick everything up by10:30, I promise.'

The girls were happy to help Tom out. Felicia intended to be up early this Sunday, anyway. She was going for a dawn walk with members of her climbing group. Miranda was far too lazy to stir at such unearthly hour; but she had promised to cook lunch.

A comfy Saturday evening was spent, in. Sitting side-by-side on the sofa, they watched Doctor Who. Occasionally, Miranda would lean over to pick some crisps from the bowl---allowing Felicia to slap the seat of her knickers, affectionately and appreciatively. A bedtime kiss and cuddle, and they were both soon sound asleep.

Miranda woke long after Felicia had left the bed. Looking at the clock, she saw it was 10.15. A bit too early to get up; but she didn’t half fancy a Kit-Kat; and there were loads of them in the basket downstairs; they wouldn’t miss one, surely? If she jumped out of bed, and ran downstairs, she could nick one before the basket was collected. That’s just what Miranda did; not bothering to pull on her pants, or put on her bra, she slid down the banister and pranced into the kitchen. She lifted the lid of the basket, and then reeled back in surprise. The basket was just about empty! There were a few stray packets of Maltesers, a Turkish delight, and four bags of prawn cocktail crisps---but that was all!? Yesterday evening the basket had appeared full to the brim!

Suddenly there was a noise in the yard! Through the crack in the curtains, Miranda saw Tom and his mates arriving to collect the baskets. She couldn’t answer the door stark naked! And if they peeked through the curtains they would see her there! On impulse, Miranda dived into the basket and pulled the lid down. She could hear Tom knocking on the door. She expected him to get fed up after a while, and go away. But that’s not what happened. Felicia had not dropped the latch on the door; and, when Tom tried it, it was open!

Miranda felt the basket being lifted into the air. Tom and his mates carried it for a few yards, laughing and joking as they went. The basket, with Miranda inside it, was slid into the boot of a car.; and the one with the clobber was slid in beside it. Despite everything, Miranda felt quite warm and cosy in the basket. She told herself that the best plan would be to wait until the basket was put down in the dressing room. Once the team had gone onto the pitch, she could: sneak out; put on a spare pair of shorts; and a shirt, perhaps---and jog off home. Of course, there was always the dreadful possibility that one of the lads might lift the lid of the basket and find her there! That would be mightily embarrassing—and something she fervently hoped to avoid; but it wouldn’t be the end of the world either; everyone would have a good laugh and that would be that. Comforted by these thoughts, Miranda closed her eyes and snuggled down in the warmth; and soon the motion of the car had rocked her to sleep.

Miranda woke to the sound of cheering voices; there were feet pounding along grass, and a ball was being kicked! Coming to herself, Miranda realised she was still in the basket. How long had she been there? She didn’t know. She could see daylight through the wicker; it seemed that the basket was outside, on the touchline, perhaps! So much for her plan of escape from the dressing-room! What was she to do? It was just then, while she was thinking, that someone came and sat on top of the lid. There was a dog yapping and sniffing too. All at once Miranda began to feel claustrophobic. Panic swelling inside her, she pushed hard against the wicker above her.

‘Here! What’s happening!?’ asked a gruff voice. Whoever had been sitting on the basket had now moved off. Naked Miranda emerged into the light like Venus from the sea.‘ Beside her was a sweaty player, just about to take a throw-in. His eyes swivelled towards her, and his jaw dropped:


Blimey!’ he said.


'Blimey' thought Miranda, 'it's the lad who came in for the Lacan book yesterday!'


There was a substantial crowd watching the match, and they let out a collective ‘Ooh!’ as they caught sight of bare Miranda. Feeling all the eyes upon her, she turned deep red. Looking to her right side; Miranda saw the gruff man who sold flowers in the market. He was busy restraining his dog, but paused and, for a moment, their eyes met in mutual recognition. That was enough for Miranda! She jumped out of the basket and fled across the pitch, weaving between the legs of dumbfounded players as the spectators roared:

‘It’s a streaker! Whoaahay!

Dashing around the black-clad referee, who was frantically blowing his whistle, Miranda tried to make her way to the far end of the pitch, where the crowd was a little sparser. But she slipped on some mud, and went full face into another patch of mud. Big hands tried to grab her; but she was pumped full of adrenaline and easily shook them off.

Running straight towards the goal mouth, Miranda dodged the spidery goalie, but found herself caught, like a fly, in the sturdy netting. She managed to wriggle her breasts through; but her bum wouldn’t follow. Miranda was stuck there, her tits and legs dangling and her bottom exposed to whatever wrath might be wreaked upon it. The stern referee approached, causing her a thrill of apprehension. She imagined he might take the linesman’s flag and smack her bottom with it. Miranda could hear Tom among the mêlée of voices. Luckily, he hadn’t recognised her face under all the mud, and was less likely to recognise her bum! Someone said:

‘We need to cut her out of there!’

‘No!’ said the referee, ‘We mustn’t damage council property! It’s the groundsman’s job to deal with things like this. We need to carry on with the penalty shoot-out and finish the game.’

‘But the ball might hit her!’ someone objected.

‘If it does,’ the referee said in reply, ‘it will only hit her on the arse; and her arse deserves to be spanked---hard! If you were my daughter, young woman, you wouldn’t sit down for week, after causing all this mayhem. I advise you to move away from here, so we can carry on with the match. If you choose not to…well, it’s your own lookout.’

Of course, Miranda couldn’t move, but had to stay there as the hard leather ball was blasted towards her behind. Five times she was thwacked! The first one scorched into the left side of her bottom! The second shot seared her on the right! She yelled and kicked her legs throughout. The spectators cheered ecstatically as each of the next three balls landed smack bang in the centre-line of Miranda’s smarting bottom, which, by now, was glowing red. In fact, the force of the final ball was so great that it knocked Miranda straight out of the netting which had been holding her. Naked, muddy, and red---she ran off for home. She passed all the Sunday morning regulars--who she and Felicia saw so often in the park. Out onto the boulevard she raced. Cars, mistaking her bottom for a stop sign, screeched to a halt. On, and on, she ran until she was home.

Closing the door, thankfully, behind her, Miranda headed straight upstairs and ran the bath. Her bottom was throbbing, her heart was pounding; she was out of breath, but hugely invigorated by he whole train of events. All she wanted to do now was relax in the bubbles.

Later on, as they sat down to dinner, Felicia had no idea why Miranda kept shifting uncomfortably in her seat. ‘It’s not as if I spanked her this morning,’ she thought.

For her part, Miranda had no idea that it was Felicia’s climbing club who had raided the missing treats. Felicia, herself did not know about that. As for Tom, he and his mates were still celebrating their 5.3 victory. Missing Mars bars were the last thing that Tom was giving any thought to. Only the gruff flower seller was thinking about Miranda—or, more specifically, about her arse.


Wednesday, 31 March 2010

Running in the Park

Sometimes I wonder if this spanking business is about showing off, a way for shy girls like me to get all the attention without having to say we want it. Of course it isn't just about showing off, but I believe, sometimes, that it is part of it.


For example, where I live there is a big park. We often take a stroll in that park and I use to go for a run there at times. Sometimes there is a lot of football being played in that park and there are a lot of goalposts all over the place. Thing is that whenever I pass one of those goalposts I get very weird fantasies.


In my fantasy I see someone, preferably me, tied to one of those goalposts, you know, if you tie the ropes to the crossbar so you have to stand with your arms spread out, so you look like a big Y. Then, you have guessed it, there is a mean person with a whip. To add to it all there is a lot of people watching (the showing off bit?).


This fantasy gets its edge from the thought that it is ordinary people, like the ones you see walking their dogs in the park and annoying teenagers and all that. They are all there to see me being whipped. And, yes, of course I have no clothes on.


So much for showing off. Today I was out running in the park. Bad idea, it was cold, really freezing. It didn't seem like spring at all. You know how your brain can be. I couldn't help thinking about those goalposts and the thought of being tied there, in the buff, in the cold wind really made me shiver inside.


The weird thing was that I thought it was quite intriguing. I won't say that the thought was exciting, few things turn me off more than being cold, but there was definitely something about this thought of being naked in the cold and watched by all and everyone that made me blush a little.


That's really everything I had to write about today. I have told you, I am a very boring person, really. Take care!



Monday, 8 March 2010

Knickers...Again

Felicia, the love of my life, is one of those who really can look glamorous if she wants to. I find her irresistible all the time but in addition she has that ability to put on something, like a stylish dress or something, that makes her look fabulous. Otherwise she is the kind who wears jeans and a simple top, like a t-shirt, at least at home.


My point here is that she is always wearing jeans at home. I know there is a reason for that. She wants to feel safe and deny me the possibility for revenge. I on the other hand am often dressed in skirt, or if I am wearing trousers they are pyjama or track suit bottoms. I can understand if you are not quite aware of where this blogpost is leading, yet.


What my clothes have in common is that they are easy to pull down. Felicia's clothes are not like that. The former fact in combination with mean and resourceful girlfriend creates embarrassing situations for a certain Miranda.


She really has a knack for this. Being in the same room as Felicia and doing something stupid like reaching for a book high in a book shelf or bending over to get something from the floor is a bad idea. I am an irresistible temptation for her and when she acts she acts swiftly and with great skill.


I don't know how she does it but in a fraction of a second she has reached out, taken a hold of my bottoms or my knickers, and down they go. If you have something in your hands, like a flower pot or a wok there is nothing much you can do.


She finds this very funny. She thinks the expression on my face when I stand there with my clothes around my knees is something that makes it worth the effort, many times over.


I can't do the same to her, jeans are much harder to pull down. But sometimes I try to take my revenge. I chase her through the flat and when I catch up with her she gets a well deserved spanking.


At least in theory. Sometimes I manage to get her jeans down and she gets in on the bare, as it should be, but that is only if she thinks I deserve revenge. Felicia is stronger than me and if she doesn't want to be spanked, it sometimes happens that I am the one who gets my bottom warmed.


It is all very unfair and very mean. Whatever happens, it is good exercise, you should try it yourselves, sometime.

Thursday, 25 February 2010

Good Morning


Yesterday morning, Felicia had to leave early. Something about her tutor going to some conference and had to plan an early meeting. Anyway, Felicia was up early and I was still in bed, feeling very sleepy.


She was kind enough to bring me tea and toast in bed. She can be a very lovely girl, sometimes. As I sat there in bed, propped up on my pillows drinking my tea, Felicia was rummaging around preparing to go to her meeting. I was just sitting there, happy I still had some time to stay in bed.


Just before she was to leave she came into the bedroom.

'I have neglected you, lately,' she said.

'I know you are busy,' I replied.

'I want to make it up to you.'

'Plenty of time for that, after your viva.

'I want to begin now.'

'Now?'

'I have something for you.'


Since I am writing it here you all know what it was, don't you? It wasn't as obvious for me, there and then, still sleepy, sipping my tea.


What Felicia had brought was our bath brush (again!).

'I thought I would give you something to make you think of me, during the day.'


Since Miranda sleeps in the buff there was no need for the removal of unnecessary clothes. It was just a matter of arranging some pillows so her bottom would be in the right position, in the right angle.


It was something of a shock to go from being under the duvet, all warm and sleepy, to lying on the bed, all exposed. And the bath brush is fierce. Already after the first whack, I didn't feel sleepy any more.

'Ever heard of warm-up,' I said after Felicia had delivered half a dozen stinging smacks to my behind.

'This is the warm-up. This, my love, is the real thing.'

She gave me a really hard whack.


I didn't count but I think she gave me a dozen really mean ones. They were hard enough to make me feel that tiny bit of panic that comes with something that is so painful you don't know if you will cope. Luckily it is over in an instant and you have plenty of time to concentrate on your smarting behind.


Then she kissed me on my bottom and said good bye and left.


I know that some of you will say that she was very cruel and that it is important with aftercare and all that. I do know that aftercare is all important and that you should be careful with the emotions you set in motion. But she knew, when she left, that I wasn't upset or in tears or anything. She knows me well and she knows I cope with this kind of thing.


In fact, when the shock had passed, I felt quite cheerful. It was such a cheeky thing to do, to deliver a set of hard smacks and then just disappear. And, after all, she did it for me.


My bottom was smarting as I went to work and as I stood there, talking to our customers (or is that clients?) I was very aware of my well spanked bottom. It made me think of Felicia and in a way, I felt that she was there, like she still touched me. She had wanted my bottom to smart and smart it did. I felt quite happy about that.

Friday, 5 February 2010

Bath Brush

I hope you don't think that what happened with my friends, what I wrote about in the last blogpost, was anything close to abusive. I may have expressed me as if I wasn't in on it but I was. I know them well and I trust them with my life, they are really great friends. I can assure you that no Mirandas were harmed and that we were all very happy for it to happen.


Anyway, I just wanted to say that Felicia and I are very different. She is very dedicated to her job, her research. I am dedicated to my friends and to her. I am not saying she isn't but she is in addition very focussed on her work, while I see mine as something I like doing, for the time being.


When a thesis is nearing its completion the workload for a dedicated researcher becomes heavier. This means less time for boring partner. I am quite fed up with her thesis to be honest, and so is she. But it has to be done.


This means less time for hobbies. Yes, I said hobbies. I have realised that spanking is a hobby for us. Some people go angling, others climb a rock wall when they get the opportunity and a third gets hot under the collar at the sight of steam engine. Our hobby is spanking. 'So, what are you doing on bank holiday? I am going to work on my shed.' 'Oh, I don't know, if we have time, I will get my knickers down and have my bottom smacked.'


I know that some of you who look upon spanking as a lifestyle may disagree and think I am belittling it, but I don't think I am. It is about the role it plays in your life. Spanking for us, is something that makes us happy and cheerful and it is a stress relief, something we do because we like it and enjoy it and means something important to us. We don't live in a 24/7 Mistress and servant relationship and Felicia isn't my guardian who has to punish her naughty girl to make her go to work. I think, for us, it sounds more like a hobby, a much loved one but still a hobby.


We had time yesterday for our hobby. Felicia found the bath brush and came out to me. I was sitting in the sofa reading.

'I had forgotten this,' she said.

'What a pity.'

'I want to use it.'

'I am in the middle of a chapter.'

'Now.'

'Sigh.'


After not having had any hobby activities for weeks, it was now or never for her. You know me, don't you, always obliging, wanting to help my friends and be there for them. Yes, that's right!


It didn't take long before I was lying across the armrest of the sofa, skirt up, knickers down and was waiting for the bath brush. It is a powerful tool and can be a little scary at times. But, you know, being just a little scared actually makes you more alert.


It seemed as if Felicia almost had forgotten how to use the bath brush because she was really hesitant and rather cautious in the beginning but after a while she got it right. I guess it is with spanking as with cycling, once you have learned how to do it, you really never forget.


She decided for some sharp and very stinging smacks and didn't keep on spanking me for long.


I know how important it is with warm up and that and if you gradually increase the power of the smacks you can take more but if you know what you are doing a dozen hard smacks can be the thing if you are so inclined.


It hurts more, is sharper and more sudden and you feel it more in your person, if you see what I mean. There is almost a kind of 'no, I don't want this, it hurts too much', so there is a bit of a struggle but it is also quite nice to overcome your misgivings and endure that pain and in reality, it didn't last that long.


Since it had been so long since the last spanking I really enjoyed it. As you understand, not exactly when it happened, but afterwards, when my bottom was tingling and warm, it was quite nice. I just lay there and felt a kind of bliss.


Sometimes it happens, when you are placed over an armrest with your bottom all bare, that you imagine that the other may touch you. All kinds of touches are possible, from a chaste stroke on your bottom to more, how should I put it, intrusive endeavours.


The first reaction, at least for me, is to protect myself, to pull down the skirt and thinking it may be just a little to intrusive. Then next thing that happens, is that a part of you decides to not fight this sensation and then the fact that you are lying there, all bare, becomes a bit of a provocation, for yourself, if no one else. And you actually feel that you want the other to take the opportunity to be, well, at least a little, intrusive.


Felicia is good at knowing what I need. She knew I wanted the spanking, although. I am sure it was a nice combination of she wanting it too. She knew I needed the sharpness of it. And I can tell you she could read my mind afterwards.


There was no more working on the thesis that evening.

Monday, 11 January 2010

Brand Spanking New Year

Spankos are weird people, I guess you knew that already. It is strange how you can be all normal one moment and the next you do things that you would be reluctant to show other people.


Anyway, lovely Fiona and Kate came visit for New Year. You know, Christmas, family, New Year, friends. It is great to have good friends over for an occasion like that.


It didn't happen immediately but sooner than you may have expected. We were sitting there talking about this and that, you know, as you do. I think that Kate and Fiona has started to meet up for a bit of mutual bottom smacking. That is good, lacking properly introduced partners and all that. Anyway, it turned out that Fiona had bought Kate a kind of bottom smacking thingy for Christmas. It was some kind of leathery thing with a handle, rather heavy. Not a pervertible but a proper spanking thingy.


It was now it happened. Felicia gladly told our friends: 'You can try it on Miranda.' Very typical her, not consulting me...sigh. I am prudish, you know that, and showing my bared posterior to all and everyone is not something that comes easy to me. But it is a little like swimming outdoors, it is much worse before you take the plunge. When you are lying there, no skirt, no knickers, it is not as bad as before, when you know you are about to. Having an audience certainly makes it more intense, though, that's for sure.


Felicia warmed me up with some hairbrush smacking and soon it was time for the new thingy. Kate got to try it on my poor bottom and I can tell you it was quite heavy. Fiona explained that although she was happy seeing Kate use it on me, she gave it to Kate so that she could use it herself. Felicia suggested, then, that Fiona should have a go as well.


Fiona is a strong woman. I knew that before but she only confirmed it.


Then they became all enthusiastic and started suggesting different thingies they could try on me. They went through most of our collection and some experimental, as well. I can tell you that a rolled up newspaper was a disappointment, for all parties involved, while some books actually can be quite useful, but only if nothing else is available.


It was kind of surreal to listen to their conversation.


'I think you should stand up, you'll get a better swing.'

'Try smacking the same spot many times over.'

'This you can use on the thighs.'

'She looks funny when she jumps.'

'I wonder how hard I can hit with this.'

'Nasty mark, she will be sore.'


I was sore the day after. Girls in a group can be such nasty beings. They urge each other on and find it quite hilarious to smack someone's poor bottom...sigh.


Truth to be told, I am quite vain and I do like the attention. On the whole we had a good evening, although I wasn't so keen on sitting down, afterwards.