Spank or Treat?

Personally, I would prefer the treat bit,
The spanking part scares the knickers right off me...
For those readers who do the Halloween celebrations...enjoy!


Weather Forecast


A wonderful thunderstorm over Johannesburg had resulted in some rain lasting most of Friday night, resulting in much cooler temperatures and a very pleasant Saturday.

However, the forecast for my Sunday morning rather looks a bit bleak.

My posting of yesterday has resulted in a cold front emanating from the offices of HH. Frost was definitely detected in the excessive heat warning issued to me. Further advisory was received that early on Sunday morning, my bottom will be suffering some unusual warming, something similar to the El NiƱo phenomenon. Apparently this will be due to a localised high pressure system focused on both cheeks during the downpour from either the cane or the paddle, or perhaps both.

Wonder if I would be able to take a rain check?


Heat waves

We are currently in the throws of a heat wave, I had been stuck in a hot and stuffy room for two consecutive days attending a conference, AND it has been two months since my bottom was  significantly warmed up in quite another way...

I am definitely starting to show symptoms of the "Spanking Way overdue" Syndrome.
  1. Loud and impatient clicking of the tongue at any given topic.
  2. Rolling of eyes with hands being thrown into the air.
  3. Short, clipped sentences dripping with sarcasm.
  4. Deep, heavy sighs that could be accompanied with a slow side-to-side shake of the head.
  5. Impatient tapping of foot or fingers, could also manifest as hands on the hips, slightly leaning forward to ensure that body language could not be mistaken for anything else than what it is.
  6. Muttering, utilising language that would make a sailor blush centred on a theme of clarifying the different definitions of "idiot".
  7. Significant increase in the use of words, such as "NO!", "I will not", "I do not care", "Whatever" and "Make me".
  8. Temper tantrums. Lots of them. Really, lots and lots of them.
Therefore, I do believe in the very near future, I am going to experience another heat wave, of a more close and personal kind...



We are having wonderful summer weather, however,
When I said that I am in need of a tanning session...
THIS is what I meant...

and NOT this!


Five Lies

According to an magazine article I read, which were written for women by a woman, women tend to tell five little white lies to men.  Therefore, apparently while lovingly staring into his eyes, I will adoringly state that:

1. I love his family
2. I never think about my ex
3. I will never ever bring up old arguments
4. That size does not matter
5. And I really want sex.

Erm...in my reality, those little white lies are slightly different. While staring at him pleadingly with big innocent eyes, making sure that my bottom is well out of reach (or at least trying to keep it out of reach) I will vehemently state that:

1. I did not pull a face or mocked his tone of voice during yet another sermon.
2. I am not being cheeky and insolent.
3. I never backchat or argue a point when I know he is right.
4. I never, ever sulk.
5. I have NO idea what happened to his cane, slippers, tawse, belt, and paddles.

And the one thing I never lie about?
I really want sex (even with a sore and red bottom)!


Spanking Days

Monday's spanking turns her bottom pink and tender,
Tuesday's spanking seems so much harder and longer,
Wednesday's spanking leaves her full of woe,
Thursday's spanking is given at a tempo ever so slow,
Friday's spanking leaves her with glowing cheeks so sore,
Saturday's spanking makes her plead “No more!”,
And as she cups her bottom after the spanking given on the Seventh Day,
She is reminded to be good in every way.


Everything that can go...

It was not as if I did not want to write for the blog, but Mr Murphy and his stupid laws came into full force these past couple of days. On Sunday night I lost hours of sleep. Pure panic after hearing a noise at one in the morning resulted in a loaded gun being taken out and an absolute refusal to even consider switching my bedside light off. Of course, my totally erratic, slightly hysterical interpretation of various noises as signs of the imminent doomsday approaching, left me rather bleary eyed at work.

Monday night after a brief stop at a petrol station, I lost my laptop, cell phone and camera. A change of ownership happened although this owner was not quite involved in the agreement part of all this. Review of the CCTV footage reflected that the theft took a mere three minutes. Uncle Nick had to deal with a very "out of it" Raven, in actual fact, I cannot quite recall the first conversation I had with him...but I do remember crying my heart out.

Tuesday afternoon I lost my voice. I truly became the Hoarse Whisperer. So there I was, I had no phone, had a battle to get the spare laptop in a working condition (I think it was the shock that made me forget passwords), was not feeling to great in the health department, and on top of it - was in another city, away from my home comforts.

However, I am happy to report that I am back home and have slightly progressed in supressing the desire (if they catch him) to hand one opportunistic shopper's bottom over to a couple of people I know in these parts of the world. Oh, and although my voice is still missing in action, I am not complaining - I think its absence sort of guarantees the safety of my bottom for now.



Favest Spanko Pic of All Time

I absolutely love the images that Red Charls captures,
but between all his stunning photos, this one remains my favourite.


Playing with colours

I do have a love for images where there is a play between black, white and red....

Mystery and anticipation...

Alluring and secretive...

Playful and funny...

Then there is...
Uncle Nick's interpretation of the colours - black, white and red...



Thin Ice

I am the worst liar you would find in the world. Uncle Nick can attest to this - during my visit, I tried to lie about something, and was caught out literally within seconds. If the blushing, or the act of avoiding to look at you ...oh and the nervous laughter do not give me away, it will definitely be my voice. When I utter deviations on the truth, my voice change - the lie and the panic  very clearly audible.

My dieting is still going strong (well, most of the days), but now there is the little thing of having to study. We did agree during my visit that time was precious, hence no studying was done. (I did take the books with though...at least there was some attempt!) Being back in South Africa, I diligently started once things had settled down, but then went on a business trip or two and somehow the studying went out of the window.  

That is, until yesterday. Happily chatting away on Skype, I was NOT prepared for the question: "How is your studying going?” In theory, I should have gotten away with a lie - we were not video streaming, so he could not see me and I could have pinched myself not to laugh - but the voice....the damn voice...

At the same time, I know when I treading on ice so thin, that I do actually already qualify for walking on water. It is something in the way that he became quiet - a small silence, the throat clearing...then his voice changing a gear, becoming a low hum and the question repeated ever so slowly and clearly. Although I miss him more than anything in life, I was eternally grateful that a huge piece of water was between us. Sometimes, the negative does have some positive results as well.

However, I am off to get some studying done...I have come to the firm conclusion that I do seem to run the real risk of having an impact study being performed on my bottom if books are not opened soon.


I wonder

I wonder whether he knows as he takes my arm,
I want him to pull me over his lap.

I wonder whether he knows that as he caresses my face,
 I want him to lower my knickers.

I wonder whether he knows that as his hand holds mine,
I want him to hold me down.

I wonder whether he knows that when I look at his hands,
 I want to feel the heat on my bottom.

I wonder whether he knows as his hands rests on the table,
 I want him to spank me, until I beg him to stop.

But then I see him looking at me
and I know that he knows.


Nobody warned me!!

The day I left my parents house, I was overjoyed that apart from my newfound freedom, I would never ever hear dad-isms again such as: "It is my house, my rules!" Nobody bothered informing me that some odd years on, I was still going to be exposed to similar conversations that only do and go downhill fast and furious:

Am I speaking a language you do not understand?!

Because I said so, that's why.

What part of NO do you not understand?

Do NOT look at me in that tone of voice.

Enough is enough!

Am I talking to a brick wall?

I am going to count to ten...1...2...3...

This is your last warning, young lady.

Do not make me stop the car!

Just wait until I get you home.

Stop crying or I will give you a reason to cry.

If I did not love you so much, I would not punish you...I would let you do whatever you wanted...

Nor did anyone bother to tell me that I will still react the same way...and I that I should rather not for I will be and am suffering the same consequences...



Raven Red on being Submissive

If I had to tick a box, my tick will be firmly be against that of being Submissive and/or Bottom.  The Oxford dictionary classifies submissive as "ready to conform to the authority or will of others; meekly obedient or passive". A bottom is classified as the partner in relationship who takes the passive, receiving, or obedient role, to that of the top or dominant.

But how does this qualify or quantify me? I am not a passive or meekly obedient person; in fact I am quite the opposite. Nor am I a mindless puppet that can be conscripted to a role as another sees it fit. I speak my mind as I see fit, even when I know that what I have to say might not be liked.  I will argue about a point if I believe I am right, but I will concede when I am wrong. I do not back down if my values or morals are trampled upon, however, I do not judge another for believing in something else.

I believe that respect is earned and is not a given, and as such, with the best will in the world; I cannot call another “Sir” simply because it is “expected”. However, when I know that I am wrong, saying “Sir” is not an appeasement, it is my acknowledgment of being in the wrong. I have a sense of humour which for most of the time can get me out of trouble, but on the other hand can land me in hot water even quicker.

I have a desire to be spanked, although I will attempt near anything to avoid it when I have overstepped the line and it becomes inevitable. I will not deny the fact that I am aroused before and after a spanking, but during the spanking I become stubborn, the resentment and anger spilling over my inadequacy to control and break the hardness within. I will sulk and provoke but at the same time, my need to return to softness will take me back over his knee.

At times I am exposed to some of those on the outer edge of the spanking world, the make-believers that become angry and nasty when their predetermined scripts and role allocations do not happen. Even worse are those that believe that if rules are not followed according to their own believe systems, condemnation and judgements are the only options to follow.

Although degrees of interest in spanking might join us together in one way or another, and we might found ourselves with some similarities, I remain a unique human being, just as others are unique in their own ways. I submit to another according to who I am, and not to what might or might not be rules or expectations. I can only be what I am, just as the next person can only be what he/she is.


One year later...

It feels as if it was only the other day that I decided to explore this hidden part of me that I had denied myself for so many years.  I can remember the nervousness, the butterflies and the mental turmoil when I had to present myself to HH for my first adult spanking.  A couple of months later I met Uncle Nick and with his rather gentle way of persuasion I found myself with a spanking blog soon after.

Here I am - exactly one year later, and celebrating my first blog anniversary.  There were the first tentative steps with uncle Nick patiently helping, suggesting ideas and oh dear gods, editing whatever I had written. But, Raven Red has become so much more than just a blog for me.

I have met wonderful people on the way, in cyberspace and in real life, and being in a relationship that has to cover many miles, the blog has become my sanctuary as well. As the man who knows me in every way, Uncle Nick will confirm that Raven Red is me, as much as what I am Raven Red.

I have laughed, cried, ranted and sulked. I have shared my hurt, my anger and my disappointments, my happiness and my love. I have teased, been cheeky and a couple of times were plain provoking, and then of course, there is the  faithful reporting of having a rather red and sore bottom mostly because all of the above.

So, on the start of a new year, and as I blow the candle out, my only wish is that on Raven Red’s next blog anniversary, it will be with Uncle Nick, with me not having to leave ever again. Oh, and I would not mind having a slight erm...meeting with this guy...


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