Before you...

My gratitude to China Hamilton for his kind permission given to use his images.

 

 

 

You are talking to me?

I have the view that when a general statement is made, it is nothing more than a lot of words being bunched together, with the actual message hidden in there somewhere. At times, it is a way for a person to assess your mood, whilst summonsing the courage to actually tell you what they want. Alternatively, the statement is made on the assumption that you will decipher the hidden code, get the message and react accordingly.

As such, I do not have a very receptive ear when they are uttered and quite actually tend to ignore it. Let me illustrate by an example - during a heated discussion, or maybe in the attempt to convey some slight mistakes I might have accidentally made, a statement like “Bottoms will burn” will not mean anything in my life.

 Firstly, the term, Bottoms, refer to more than one bottom, plainly put - anything from two and upwards. I also do not suffer from some obscure mutation disease, and the last time I checked, I only did have one bottom. Granted, perhaps slightly bigger than what I would like it to be, but that does not mean that it can be quantified as “bottoms” either.

 Secondly, regarding the “will burn” bit. Will burn when? Today, tomorrow, next week, maybe next year? Oh, and burn how...too much sun, hot water? More importantly, why on earth will bottoms burn? I might be curious, but such vagueness is far too much even for me to try and obtain all the information.

 Therefore, since there is no actual definition and clarification that it is a direct reference and/or threat being made to my anatomy, I will ignore such utterances.

Nothing left...

That cold and clear moment when reality sets in. 

When nothing but contemplation and the wait remain.

Piano Lessons

Getting ready for a lesson...

or on her way to face the music...

perhaps both?

Zebra Crossings

I had a look at my bottom in the mirror this morning and they are still neatly striped thanks to HH's enthusiasm with the cane on Monday...

Seeing that it is nearly thirty degrees again today, and I will be spending the day in a swimming pool, I am frantically trying to think of excuses if anyone might question the zebra crossings on my rump.

What I do know is that I should inform HH that stripes should rather be displayed like this...prettier and far less painful...

Caned

I left my office shortly after five yesterday afternoon for my meeting with HH. I had a brief conversation with him a couple minutes before that, wanting to confirm that the appointment is still on. He answered my question with a question: "Do you think that you want to keep the appointment?” He knew that given the chance I would have wanted to opt out, but that little question took away any escape routes I might have considered. I tried for a clever retort; "Yes is the correct answer, but No features quite a bit as well" but his response was just as quick: "Yes No then".

True to myself, I was trying for a way out, but I realised that there was not much of an option, and that this appointment should be kept. He knew it as well and by understanding me rather to well, he was gently directing me towards total submission – a simple acknowledgement that I will report to him as was agreed. On my arrival, he did not waste much time. We had our chat, albeit much shorter than usual, and when he uttered the dreaded “Right, let’s get down to business”, I did not argue. I must admit when he reached for the cane, a couple of words were muttered, which dried up drastically when he threatened to take out the paddle.

Bent over, waiting with a bared bottom, I could feel that panic was close at hand. The last time I could barely manage six strokes, and I knew that this time, he will not stop at six. However, instead of receiving that first searing stroke, HH started striking my bottom with quick and light strokes gradually increasing the intensity...and then, that first hard swish of the cane could be heard, but before I could even draw a breath, the cane was back, quick and rather harder little strokes warming my bottom all over. This was, I soon found out, to be the format of the caning.



http://red.charls.free.fr/



I started dreading the tapping in-between the hard strokes...never I have been so alert, so tense – on tenterhooks, not sure when I would feel the deep line of fire across my cheeks. There was no format to the taps (that I might add, grew a little bit stronger in force as time went pass) that I could accurately anticipate the hard strokes. And, the little quick taps started to add to the soreness; it was as if they were sealing in the deeper strokes...my bottom soon felt as if it was on fire!

I have no idea how many strokes I did receive in the end (I lost count after twelve), but I do remember staring at the yellow files on the desk, trying hard not to cry...for I did not want to get his files wet, and my bottom was hurting so badly that I could not summons the energy to move them out of the way. Although I slept on my stomach, and had (and still do) some problems in sitting comfortably today, I am calmer, more relaxed and reacting to the world in a much softer way...

Thank you, HH.



http://red.charls.free.fr/



Between a Dentist and a Spanker...

I managed to break a tooth yesterday, which for most of last night left me scrounging around for any pain medication that might alleviate the fire in my face, whilst fervently praying for daybreak so that I could visit a dentist. The fact that I absolutely fear a dentist, diminished with the pain - agony was a clear winner over any misgivings of looming needles that will "only be a small prick" (yes sure!) and shrieking drilling machinery in my mouth.

As is habit, I performed my early morning messenger greeting to HH - who in turn had read my blog posting for Saturday, where I SO very nicely declared my absolute need to be spanked. Obviously, the gentleman that he is quickly offered me a spot for later in the day - which would have turned out to be three hours after my dentist appointment. As I rolled my eyes at myself, I thought that it can only be me - without any great effort or difficulty, I again had put myself between a hard place and a rock. However, I totally forgot about the bit of space between the two...

An internal argument immediately started raging about which fear was conquering which - reporting to the dentist and leaving with a sore mouth, or reporting to HH and leaving with a sore bottom. In this process, my thought processes took a definite knock, and my small little comment (that should have not been uttered at all!) about hoping that he would be able to ensure that I remain in place, and not opt out as before, resulted in a conversation that made me totally forget about the dentist, his needles and the drill.

A rather detailed informative session followed mentioning words such as ropes, spanking benches, dungeons, St Andrew's cross, oh, and a tree...(rather do not ask). As my eyes widened, and nervousness left me quite wordless and unsure what to reply, I inadvertently took a sip of very hot coffee, totally forgetting that it should stay away from the left side of my face. The pain was short-lived, and the quick flash of fear when remembering about my upcoming dentist visit was brief - I had more important things to panic about! Somehow my glib little utterance was interpreted as an invitation, therefore accepted and I was the recipient of the RSVP.

I must be honest, I could not think of one thing to say in order to retract the "invitation" and back out gently without being detected...I still will have to work on that. Currently it is taking the form of a formal pledge to stay in place, not move and so on...It did appear though that the gods above took some mercy on me - HH postponed the spanking until tomorrow afternoon, but as I left for the dentist, the gods gleefully displayed their perverted sense of humour again. I received this last little message from HH..."Had an additional thought – thinking about making a birch from the willow tree in my garden for tomorrow". I wonder if I would be able to schedule another dentist’s appointment - perhaps for the whole day?

Open Drawers

 He tells you that he thinks you should get yourself a pair of open drawers....

Pros:

You can admire your bottom anytime - happy for all those hours in the gym.

Cons:  

Uncertainty whether his request for you to bend over is based on the same admiration.

Cons:

It was not! All you have left is a sore and red bottom due to unrestricted access.

Conclusion:

Open drawers are lovely,

however their safety record in terms of bottom preservation is quite appalling.

So, in answer to his request, 

I think I will opt having the attitude of the lady at the till ...

Knowledge and Wisdom

Difference between Knowledge and Wisdom?

Knowledge is acquired when realising that a spanking leaves your bottom red and sore....

Wisdom is the realisation that a concerted effort should be made to invest in chairs with a specific focus in soft seating designs...

Another learning

Okay. I have made a note to myself. Never, ever will I ever again allow a nearly two-month period between spankings or in this instance a caning. The overdue interest manifested itself in a way that even took me by surprise.

As I was driving early on Sunday morning to HH's offices, I was trying my utmost not to think of what was coming. Not that it worked very well, I was as nervous as a long tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs - except - my tail was going soon going to be in the firing line of a swishing cane.

I was in no disagreement that the caning was required; in general my decline in good behaviour had reached a stage where even I was getting quite fed-up with myself. I was well aware that bottoms (well, mine) should be turned a shade of red. What I did not take into consideration was how said bottom reacted after quite an untouched state.

Bent over, bottom bared and eyes firmly closed - the first stroke of the cane sent a shudder through my entire body. Rebellion! Although knowing better than to straighten up, or to grab at my bottom, I did stamp my foot and seeing that a good foot stomping should be accompanied by some noise - I did revert to some muttering of not a very ladylike kind.

By stroke three I could feel the perspiration trickling down my back and although I would love to say that it was the summer heat - I was not happy, but my bottom was even in an unhappier place. At the fifth stroke I did ask very hopefully if it was not already number six, but alas...

Six strokes of the cane later, with me very gingerly holding onto my bottom, HH looked at me quizzically - and then stated very quietly: "This should hold you for a couple of days, but I will be seeing you in a week." Cheeks galore! I am not sure whether my bottom will be ready! Six lines were prominently displayed for a day or two, but yea gods, I will have to have a serious talking to my rear anatomy. It rather does appear that the holidays are over…and in any event, Christmas is coming- canes and red stripes are good. Aren’t they?

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

Finally!

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 Niño 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...

Tanning

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!

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.

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.

Desperation

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...

SIGH...!!

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.

Best behaviour...

It has been a couple of days since I have last posted, but I have been a full time tourist...to poor Uncle Nick's frustration. Tomorrow we are off to the munch somewhere in the middle of London. Now taking into consideration that my feet and legs hurt, and that I urgently require to be able to sit down...I am in the process of trying very hard to stay out of trouble from this moment onwards. There will be no " insolence", arguments or attitude from my side...really...

Spanking clips, DUI and English weather

The idea:

There are certain times when I do question my own sanity. Today was one of those days - in actual fact, the questioning into my cognitive functioning actually started yesterday morning, as soon as what the words: " Let's make a spanking clip" left my mouth. I am no actress, to that my looks and purse can sadly testify, and previous attempts at role-playing left me helplessly in tears - from laughter. So, to make matters worse, after the first couple of words were uttered, I added that the spanking clip should be linked to one of the outstanding “misunderstandings" between me and Uncle Nick in order for me to react in a genuine fashion.

The " What was I thinking!" moment 

An incident of driving after having a drink or two, turned into a drunk driving offence with any changes of wiggling my way out of it, disappearing like the sun in English rain. I did rather fervently prayed last night that today would bring bright sunshine - one should explore and not stay indoors while the sun does shine over here - but the steady dripping of rain against the windows dashed that hope early this morning. My attempt to sleep late due to " exhaustion" was further nipped in the bud by Uncle Nick whispering that he had decided that my errant ways in not only disobeying him, but that of the laws of a country were to be rewarded by twenty-four strokes of the cane by lunchtime today.

Current...er... "status":

My first ever spanking or rather caning now captured on footage being edited by Uncle Nick. I did have a look at it - but the involuntary clenching of my bottom muscles in sympathy soon put an end to that. We did go out for dinner afterwards- and what was comfortable chairs yesterday had for some strange reason changed overnight into the most unyielding and uncomfortable seats. I have been knicker-less since lunchtime - and it is not that I am that daring; it is a sheer question of trying to keep anything away from touching a very sore, rather striped and red bottom. And I am now going to bed, to sleep on my stomach, and to repeat the following mantra: "You will NOT have any more bright bottom ideas..ever."