A Dragon's Song

He did not say anything when she arrived, but stood quietly, waiting patiently until she had removed all her clothes. It was not only the act of removing her garments; it was a removal of her defences, her protection, leaving only an offering - naked, open and in his hands. When the last piece of clothing sagged onto the floor, he turned away, not looking back as he walked into the house, knowing that she will follow. In the large room with the clock and dark furniture, he had prepared for her - an altar of his choice, only waiting for her. 

 

As she took in the sight of what awaits, her nipples hardened, and she knew that he was aware, but yet, even as he bound her, not a word was exchanged. He carefully ensured that the cane was left in her sight during this time, a dragon cane. She could see the terribleness, the loveliness in the smooth, thick bamboo, she could imagine the hard promises of its fiery kisses, and a heat started burning inside her. He gently placed the cane over the back of her knees and walked away, his footsteps muffled by the thick carpet. 

 

In her open, displayed nakedness, air was gently folding over her, softly caressing her, her body responding without qualms, she was swollen and moist. As she made a small movement, she could feel the crackling leather underneath her knees, but no allowance would be given to her now - she was bound to her situation, her choice, her needs, and her desire. She could feel the cane as it was resting on her legs and she was yearning to feel the burn, leaving hot, warm stripes of exquisite pain across her sensitive flesh.

 

She could smell the heavy oversweet scent of the dark shining mahogany. The polished grooves were cool against her skin where her hips touched it. The uncompromising cold embrace of the metal around her wrists kept her hands together in the small of her back, her palms open in what could be interpreted as a near entreating gesture. The alternating sensations of coldness were in concert and maybe, with slight sympathy, small whispers of goose bumps were raised over and over on her skin, spiralling into heat and moistness between her legs. The heat was amplified with her desire, her wish for his return, and her anguish at waiting for him.

 

The deep silence in the room was only broken by the tick of the grandfather clock and out of the corner of her eye she could see the pendulum slowly swinging from side to side, counting down the seconds. She has lost track of time, not that it mattered anymore, as she has forsaken her identity, her being, for this moment, this infinite moment of acquiescence. She knew he will return, she knew he will gently feel her heat, her wetness - test her readiness and if she was, he will remove the cane from the back of her legs. For then, he will create her desire, a song, a dragon’s song...

My gratitude to China Hamilton for allowing the use of his images.

 

Love our Lurkers Day

(A huge thank you to Bonnie at My Bottom Smarts)

Dearest Lurkers,
It always leave me with a smile,
when I see that you came along and lingered for a while, 
When you do pay me a visit...



You might find me laughing, or in a teasing mood
Not cheeky - I am never, ever cheeky...
I am sure you will agree. 



Or I might be in a state of rebellion -
most likely because I was judged to be cheeky or insolent...
Really? Me? 



You might come along and see that I have once again landed myself in hot water.
I have been told that I have a natural born talent for being in trouble...
I have no idea what they mean...



Invariably, somewhere along your visits, you might find me in quite akward positions,
with my bottom undergoing some changes in status.
Something along the lines of red, sore and rather tender...



Oh, and at times, you will find me sulking - slightly sarcastic even,
lamenting about how misunderstood I am,
normally around my definitions of cheeky, rebellious and insolent..
and quite often about my problems in being able to sit down.



But whoever you are, and wherever you are from...
I appreciate your visits more than what you would really know.
And if for today only, you would like to leave a comment
I would really love you to do so...
(Erm...even if only to agree that I am NOT cheeky...ever!)



Made in China

"Sweetums? Come up here for a second, please". I remembered my fingers becoming motionless over the computer keyboard, where up to then; I was happily researching the place that he was going to take me to for the day. The voice might have been sweet and inviting in its request, but the gods above has abundantly blessed me with self preservation instinct. While frantically wondering what I could have done wrong, I did manage a calm voice when sweetly asking him if he was in need of something downstairs, but then spoiling the attempt and presentation of innocence and calmness when panic overrode all common sense, and the "What have I done?" was blurted out immediately afterwards.

Uncle Nick at this stage had been on the odd occasion making noises about a spanking that was required, but up till then, the effect of sentences that contained "spank, bottom, standing for a week" had an amazing reigning in effect on my quick tongue and well, behaviour in general. I was quite relieved when his reply came that he was only looking for socks or something to that effect, and as such, I happily climbed the stairs to go and help search for whatever he was looking for. This happened about four weeks into the two month visit, and up and until that fateful morning, I have made sure that whenever I was done with brushing my hair, my hairbrush would disappear into a suitcase.

When I laughingly said to him that I really thought I was up for a close and personal encounter of the spanking kind, it did not cross my mind that perhaps before I make any references to spanking, I should scan the room for any bottom harming implements that might have not been put away. I watched him with a sinking heart when he sauntered over to my side of the bed and gleefully held up my hairbrush. I could feel my whole body stiffen whilst listening to him singing the potential praises of his discovery, but we were late, and thank the gods, no spanking was forthcoming. As he placed  the brush back, I was eyeing it - wondering whether I could get it away from him without being caught, but as I glanced at him, I realised that every thought must have been written on my face. Although his, “Do not even think about it!" resounded in the room, it was too late - I lunged to grab  the offending article in question.

As he caught me around the waist, and I grabbed the brush triumphantly, we looked at each other, and then collapsed in laughter - although I will frankly admit, mine was tinged with a bit of pure nerves. He tilted my head back and softly warned me of consequences if the brush did not stay out in the open.  As  I firmly believed, and still do, that my bottom, Uncle Nick and a cane should not occupy the same space, the hairbrush were for the rest of my visit, no longer exposed to deep and dark suitcases.

For the record - Uncle Nick did attempt to start a spanking off with the hairbrush about two weeks later but after the first smack, the brush broke in two. Must admit, I would have loved to see his face when he was left only holding the plastic handle, but unfortunately I was quite pre-occupied with his hand coming down on my bottom after the handle was flung into some corner of the room. Oh, and personally - I will NEVER EVER complain about anything again that boldly states: “Made in China".

The day I forgot about the popcorn...

Now this might sound a bit strange, but at the height of my denial about being fascinated and some more about spanking, I practised a very strange version of ostrich philosophy. I would be on the internet, searching, reading and looking at various spanking web sites, then guilt will set it, and I will pray to all  deities above to spare me from any potential lightening strokes - I will be a good girl, and never, never look at these sites again.

Head in the sand, suffocating in the process, and after about three weeks, I would not be able to contain myself anymore...and once again, I would invade cyberspace for the cycle to start all over again. Somewhere along this pattern of having my head fully submerged in denial, or sticking it out literally feeling as if the gates of hell were going to open up underneath my feet, I missed the whole thing about the movie; Secretary in 2002.

Bored out of my mind about two years ago, I sat down one afternoon to watch a movie, and well... I missed the first ten minutes or so, but let me assure everybody, not another minute was lost. I had a bowl of popcorn - I never touched it. It was supposed to be my turn to cook in the house that afternoon - I ordered pizzas. I was supposed to go out with a friend for a drink - I went to the local video store. Oh, and I could not sleep for a couple of days thereafter...

After I received my first spanking as an adult, I rushed back home, stormed into the bathroom....

Therefore, in my very belated way, here is my favourite piece of a movie that I do believe was in the final element for me to step onto this road, and to find myself content and happy, where I am today.

A huge Thank You to Uncle Nick for helping with the clip – apart from not knowing a thing about editing, I most probably would have spent the whole day watching it, with my finger stuck on the rewind button....

Strangely enough, I became an avid follower of Boston Legal...James Spader can be my spanker laywer anyday...

Celebration

At the end of September 2010, I uttered a couple of words partially in jest, partially serious to Uncle Nick, and before I really knew what had hit me, I was the proud and very uncertain owner of a spanking blog. Please note, I have learned my lesson well, I now think carefully before I speak, for it is inevitable that I will have to act upon what was said. Uncle Nick lives by two simple creeds; practise what you preach and/or implement what you agreed upon; failure in these two regards might have some dire consequences to a certain part of my human anatomy.

My IT experience at that stage was limited to pushing an "On” button, putting in a password, waiting for everything to appear, and then happily clicking away getting my work done. If anything did go wrong, it was not a problem at all, the IT department was only a phone call away to sort things out for me. However, all of a sudden I was overwhelmed by conversations in a language I did not understand. HTML, URL, banners, leader boards, links, buttons, SEO, page ranking and keywords were total foreign concepts. I have a good idea what the people busy building the Tower of Babel felt like when suddenly, in a blink of an eye, his neighbour was sprouting some gibberish...

I could romanticize about us, when we were setting up the blog, complete with butterflies, doves, and cotton candy clouds floating in a blue sky next to the rainbow, but that would be a blatant lie. There were a lot of “Can you repeat that in English?” or “Are you speaking English?” but most often it was “What the *&^% are you saying?” The replies were not much better, “What is so difficult to understand?” and “For an intelligent woman, you can act silly” and then the dreaded “F*&^% hell, honestly!!”

At the same time, even though clearly not always impressed with my lack of understanding, he would explain it all over again, until finally Raven Red’s blog made an appearance in early October 2010 for the first time. Uncle Nick’s comments regarding my grammar or my "awful colonial dialect"...well, those ones are not to be repeated in public domain, but every step of the way since the first posting appeared, he still gives me advice on my blog. He continues to compliment me on the number of visits and when finding a photo that he knows I will like, forwards it to me.

I have realised today that I have already posted a hundred times on the blog, and my, how time flies when you are having fun!  And thanks to Uncle Nick interpreting my “maybe I should think about a blog” as “I want to start a blog within the next five minutes”, I have met the most wonderful people along the way, which has made this particular journey worthwhile.

Bonnie  (My Bottom Smarts) that announced the arrival of Raven Red on the blogging scene, Pink  (The Pink Report) that encourages me every day and even proofread a couple of postings for me, and Ronnie (Heart and Soul) with her quiet, wicked sense of humour that came visiting every so often. Then there is Hermione (Hermione’s Heart) that has the most amazing ability to find the oddest, weirdest and funniest photographs on the internet.

As time went past, more and more people came visiting, stayed for a while, and forged very special friendships, Poppy, Devlin, Michael and Season, Erica, Emanuele, Zelle, Arianna, Dioneo and Libby. I eventually plucked up the courage to start commenting on a blog that I regarded as one of thé spanking blogs, and in the process met a wonderful man, erm...lets rather stick with nice man. Okay, fine...I am to report to his study for some obscure misdemeanour, not that I can think whatever I have done wrong that I should be summonsed to appear in front of MarQe.

Then there are the regular commentators whose input I so much appreciates, B’Man that is sadly no longer blogging, Brett B, dd, and Joey. Four months ago, none of these people was in my life, but now, everyone with their little quirks, great sense of humour, wonderful insets and outlooks on life, are there every morning when I wake up, brightening up my world. A hundred posts may not be the biggest achievement, but the rewards so far, are worth every post that I have written.

Blog of the Month - The Spanking Bloggers Network

I am VERY much still the new girl on the block, and therefore was very pleasantly surprised to see that I was nominated for The Blog of the Month, January 2011 on The Spanking Bloggers Network.

Somewhere after the mayhem that we call Christmas, I thought I should at least check if I received a vote, but there I was, in a three-way tie, with the blogs of Discipline Her and Accountomax's House. After visiting their blogs, and being waylaid for a couple of hours, reading the blogs from top to bottom (eh...no pun intended), I was quite happy with the fact that I had made it to this stage, and did not expect anything thereafter.

I then proceeded to celebrate my birthday (eh, rather it was a long moment of sad silence), dealt with an attempted break-in on the same day, which resulted in me amassing an arsenal that will put a SWAT team to shame, and went onwards to welcome the New Year...Shortly thereafter, The Spanking Bloggers Network delivered a late Christmas/Birthday present....

Taking into account the company I was in, I am really honoured and humbled that my blog has been chosen as the blog for January 2011. Even more so, I am so happy that my general ramblings, more specific complaining-, definitely targeted mocking-, and all the other arbitrary notes were found worthy of being read, and even better that it is being enjoyed.

So, for the nominations and the votes casted in favour of my blog, a huge Raven Red thank you!

Thank You

Wow!

A massive "Thank you" to all of YOU.

I have 107 visits to my blog yesterday alone, which has left me somewhat speechless (and that does not happen often!). My heartfelt gratitude to those who have been leaving words of encouragement and support on the blog, as well as on my Facebook profile.

I will be updating the blog every Monday, Wednesday and Friday.

Some of the roads that I have travelled on in my journey, cannot be told in one sitting, therefore on occasion, I will be telling the story in Parts. (Part 2, of Good Girl Guilt, will be posted on Wednesday morning.)

Again, to all of  you, "Baie dankie/Thank you"  for reading and sharing in my journey...

Raven Red