Spanking video? What Spanking Video?

In South Africa, apart from the public holidays on Friday and Monday that formed part of the long Easter weekend, we had another public holiday on Wednesday. Therefore, in the end, I had six glorious days of absolutely doing nothing. It rained for most of the weekend, and apart from talking to Uncle Nick on Skype, I curled up in bed with a good book, stayed away from my laptop and refused to answer my phone. It was a most welcome break away from the past month's twelve to thirteen working hours every day.

Later today is the Royal wedding, and with most likely every person slowly disappearing from ten in the morning under some vague pretence of it being another long weekend, with Monday as a public holiday, I rather do believe BBC’s South African viewing figures will reach record levels though. I only know that I have another three days of nothingness to look forward to. After that, it will be back to reality for all of us. Schools will re-open, traffic will return to its normal nightmarish routine, and my days will resume with its non-ending working hours. However, these are currently minor factors in my life, as I do rather have a more pressing issue at hand, and even though it was really an accident, Uncle Nick’s disbelief in my version of the story is quite palpable.

I had agreed to have my last session with HH recorded on video and with HH all chirpy and happy in a holiday mood looking forward to his two-week break, he did cordially agree to the filming. The camera was set up, and shortly thereafter, and with a sore bottom, I had my first recording of being caned. Arriving home, I had to download additional software to view the footage on my laptop, which I duly did. I had a look at the short clip that was made, and immediately hated it. The light was not right, the angle funny and well, I did not like the camera’s representation of my bottom.

Later that night while chatting to Uncle Nick, I told him that I did have video footage of the caning, but I really did not want to send it to him, because mostly of how my bottom did not correspond to what I thought it would look like after nearly a year of dieting. I was depressed and angry that it appears that it will most likely be the last place for the weight to disappear, and on top of it, that I will most likely have no breasts left. What is it about dieting that the boobs are the first to reduce in size?

After a bit of cajoling from his side, I decided to send the footage to him, but horror upon horror. Looking for the clip, it was gone. I searched in every file I could think of, but it was as if it never existed. I quickly figured out that during my total disgust at the footage, and in my haste when removing the software from the laptop, I must have inadvertently deleted the footage with it. Apart from being informed by a voice that originated straight from the South Pole that an “idiot” proof camera will be bought on my next visit to the UK, it was clear from the shards of ice flying my way, that the accident was deemed as “convenient”.

Chucking hot lava back his way, I firmly declared that I refused to be described as an idiot, upon another Tete-a Tete ensued, and I was notified that he did not call me an idiot, but said he will make sure I get an idiot proof camera. Eh...it is the same difference in my books. With my temper ready to flare, and sulking levels hitting critical intensity, he then proceeded to defuse all my readiness to engage in some serious battle with one sentence. “Well, I suppose, you will have to do it again, won’t you?”

All the gods above, HH is due to return next week, none the wiser what has happened and I will have to re-explain this little accident again. However, for some odd reason, I can feel it in my bottom that I am most likely to encounter some problems of a rattan kind...