Saturday, September 30, 2006

Yet Another Spanking Memory (part1)

I don't even know if this qualifies as spanking. It was more like a good whacking, with no panties coming down.

So I was seventeen and he was seventeen. And I was already a dedicated smoker, trying to keep pace with my kool group of friends in school, skipping as many classes as I could in order not to get detentions or suspentions. Pool addict. I was a pool shark at that age, since my skipped classes were spent in the pub that had a pool tables. I was playing for money and winning. (Now I can't put the ball in anymore. lol)

This guy, let's call him Mike, for the sake of it, taught me everything about it. All the small details a real player has to know. That's how I started: five-six hours a day, and two weeks later it was like I was born for playing. Of course, against him, I rarely won. We played using different rules. You announced the ball that was to get in, and if another one went in, it's penalty time. You didn't shoot at them randomly, like a dork! So, we smoked, we drank, we played pool, we partied. We'd known each other for way too many years, since we were babies, and our parents were best friends. The only problem was that he was living in another city, and it wasn't one close to us either. I saw him once or twice a year, for at most two weeks. I really liked this guy. He was like a big brother to me.

His behavior was dominant. I, back then, was a control freak, but still a masochist.

One evening, on the balcony, I was smoking again too much. Our deal was to cut down our smoking to no more than five cigarettes a day. We were puffing the famous Lucky Strike. (Haven't smoked those for years. lol) They didn't have Lights, or Extra Lights, or One. They just had one brand. A white pack with a red circle and the brand embossed on it. More expensive than almost all the other shit.

So we shared a cigarette from our common pack. We had just watched an action movie, and my mind had gone to spanking for some funny reason. Back then spanking was on the back of my mind. Latent. I confessed: "I like violence," I think I said. "I dunno why, but liking it bothers me."

"What kind of violence," he asked.

I couldn't tell him the truth. "Don't know really. The one that involves control, I suppose."

He looked at me funnily, so I elaborated: "Well, maybe it's because I don't know what violence can do to you, you know? I never got spanked, I only got into fights with people. It's curiosity, maybe." And I was hoping I was right. I was hoping that this was the reason why I liked spanking. Because such a cause can be easily removed, together with its effect.

He looked at me expectantly.

"Maybe if I get to see what violence means, it will pass."

"Do you want me to beat you up?" He smiled.

"No. I don't want you to beat me up. I don't want you to touch my face or use your fists."

"Of course I won't." The matter seemed settled. Fast, no fuss. Our brain waves seemed connected.

"What do you want me to use?"

"How the fuck should I know?"

"Kay, I don't like your language. I don't want to hear any more of those 'fucks' coming out of you. It's just not nice." My vocabulary back then was much worse than the one I have now. It was vulgar. To be in the 'kewl group', you needed to use such words. Every guy was a 'dick-head', I was 'fucking' everything, including the people's connections to their ancestors and families, 'shitting' around, and my personal view was that everyone was to go to hell and leave me fucking alone. "The Doors", "Cure", "Depeche Mode", cut jeans, black heavy boots, XL t-shirts and large shirts hanging around my waist... turning slowly into a rock maniac and a Gothic chick. Always black make-up or as dark as possible. But blonde and small as I was, I was cute.

I shrugged. "What can I do? It's just so addictive. It's hard to control. And saying 'fuck' is fun."

"Of course..." He was being sarcastic. "So... What should I use on you?" Back to the question. I don't think the option ' hand' had crossed his mind. He was flirting however with the option *good* whacking.

I raised my shoulders again. Suggestions from me? Never.

"I'll use the belt my Dad uses. What do you think?"

I turned red. Oh, God, so red. He was asking me to approve of him spanking me. I was to accept a punishment.

"You should know better," I passed the ball back to him.

"I'll use the belt," he concluded. He was calm and determined, as if he'd been doing this for all his life. "I'll spank you tomorrow with the belt."

"Wait, this is wrong. You can't spank me without a reason. It doesn't make sense. It sounds wrong and it feels fucked up. You need to have a reason."

He took a puff from the cigarette, looked at me, considered it. He was serious, but smiling.

"The deal is, tomorrow you smoke only three cigarettes. You don't curse anymore. You break the rules and I spank you. That shouldn't be hard."


"Three cigarettes. I will count the ones left in the pack and I'll count again tomorrow."

So now that I had got myself into a spanking, I was hoping to get myself out of it. If I were to follow the deal, no spanking was to happen. Sounded good and fair.

The problem? My deal was flawed. I didn't manage to get myself into a spanking, but in two. One day apart. I learnt to behave around him. *lol* Probably if we had lived in the same city, this relationship would have turned out into a permanent spanking deal. Never thought of it like this before, but now I do. Mike wasn't going to chicken on me.

*to be continued*

Diving into Spanking Fantasies

Yesterday night, while watching those vids, I experienced something weird. Ok, maybe weird is not the right word, but you'll soon find out what I mean.

I was so turned on by domestic discipline with Daddy/daughter stuff that I was knocked out. Ok, I've always been into domestic discipline related to Guardian (father figure though, of course) and some young chick, but probably my kink developed. A guardian spanking the girl is a forced fantasy, quite unlikely to happen. But a father spanking his daughter is plausible. My personal opinion: people who are scared to fantasize about Daddy/teenage daughter stuff go for Guardian/teenager. I am convinced actually that this is the truth. You try to put out from your mind incest thoughts and you do that by redirecting your interest. Well, for me, only the spankings related to Father/daughter interest me, and giving the fact that never goes for sex, it was easy to dive into this new kink. As a matter of fact, I think I have mentioned it before - spanking is a world by itself, and it doesn't need sex. Unless the real life story runs that way, and then it's okay. But mind me, I would never be able to go further with the Daddy/daughter approach.

Given my sudden view enlargement on the world of spanking, I reach the conclusion that spanking role-play fantasies - let's take 'role-play' out if possible - develope in time. Back then my interest was very limited - M/F domestic was the only thing that did it for me - then slowly slowly I got into M/f, into Father/daughter, teacher/schoolgirl. I wonder where this journey will take me next... I have a new respect for the cane, even though it scares the shit out of me and I don't see it as proper punishment by itself. Not proper punishment unless it bruises the heck out of you means out with this fantasy, not my kink.

Another thing - maybe a scenario transforms into kink the moment you fantasize about it the first time, and sticks to your mind when you play it with your hubby/boyfriend/etc in real life.

So, have your fantasies evolved? And how come?

Oh, shit! I hope Jack doesn't see this post! I already worry about what he might think seeing my new interest. Not good thoughts, I expect. I don't know. I think I'm really ashamed of myself. lol Yeah... Hell, what can I do? It's not my fault my mind works like this! Hey, blame it on! Yeah! Go spank David! It's his fault! I didn't do it. Honestly, I'm innocent! *grinning like a Cheshire cat* Right, I'm off. I hope I can get some work donw around here before I post again.

Oh, I want so much to go read blogs now and post comments!! But first, to earn that right, I should write my letter of intent. I hate those things!! *puts cigarette out* Can't smoke anymore... can't breathe anymore either... *cough cough* Damn these cigarettes! But today, I'm not buying a new pack! Even if I go crazy!

I Can't Keep My Eyes Open

I swear I can't! My best friend, Jules, called last night around 12am I think. Of course I am was up. And we chatted for a good while and then I used her card to get access to Punished Brats - told ya I was in love with that site. Anyway, she's the best chica in the world! *happy smile*

Then she had to go out - unfortunately - but at least I was left in paradise. So I watched spanking vids until 5am when my Windows Media Player got stuck and I said "enough is enough". My cat, who had already napped next to me until 5, woke up a little later and forced me to stand up from my warm beddy at least like twenty times: either because I was trying to get her back to sleep, or because I fed her something to shut up, or to pick up her scratch post because she had managed to knock it down, to take away the plastic ball that makes a hell lot of noise when she rolls it on the parquet, etc etc. Then I fell asleep again and woke up with her next to me at 11,30am. So maybe I slept enough hours, but when looking in the mirror today, I met this chick with hollow eyes sucked into black sockets and an irritated face from lack of sleep.

I hope I will have time to post some stuff today - some spanky panky stuff, that is - since Ihave thousands of things to do. I start my work this Monday and well, gotta prepare. I'm quite nervous. It's a new career path for me, but you know what's kool? That mostly guys teach this subject and I will be among the few women to do it. Yeah, baby! Catch up with me in a few years and I'll tell you how it went. Anyway, more on the subject, some other time.

Friday, September 29, 2006

Spanking Quizzes

What kind of spanko are you?

Moderate: You are a dedicated spanko who knows what the scene is all about. You pay careful attention to your partners needs, believe strongly in communication, and work hard to make sure that everyone is satisfied. You might believe in the occasional spanking for purposes of domestic discipline, but its just as likely that you spank only for recreation. You can play from mild to severe as long as there is a clear understanding of limits, expectations, and safewords.
Take this quiz!

Make A Quiz More Quizzes Grab Code

And guess what!

"2336 other people got this result!

This quiz has been taken 10015 times.

55% of people had this result. "

So many spankos in this world!

What kind of spanking do you deserve?

You need a good sound paddling and you'd welcome it too.
Take this quiz!

Make A Quiz More Quizzes Grab Code

What is My Favorite Spanking Position?

You scored as Tied to the Bed, Propped with Pillows.
Your spankings are but one important aspect of a complex BDSM relationship.

Brought to you by My Bottom Smarts.

Over the Back of the Couch


Tied to the Bed, Propped with Pillows


The Bent-Over Ankle Grab


Over the Lap


The Diaper Position


What is My Favorite Spanking Position?
created with

What Kind of Spankee Am I?

You scored as Mental Health Spanko.
Spankings are a stabilizing influence in your life.
They provide balance and affirmation in a stressful world.

This quiz is brought to you by My Bottom Smarts.

Mental Health Spanko


Brat Spanko


Discipline Spanko


Pain-toy Spanko


Sensual Spanko


Submissive Spanko


What Kind of Spankee Am I?
created with

lol Mental Health??? Oh boy! I scored bit too high I think... for my own sake.

Why Do I Fake It?

So why do I fake it?

No, it's not what you're thinking of, since I don't want to discuss faking the big "IT", but I wanna wonder about the 'it' reffering to my cries during a spanking.

I believe I am able to take a lot without making the slightest noise. Pain doesn't scare me and even as a kid I've been known as a 'tough one', even when the pain was excruciating. If I ever cry it's usually because of frustration and fear. And for yelping and such, that just wasn't me until I met him. Until I fully got into spanking.

Could it be that I've watched too many spanking vids? That I've read too many spanking stories where everyone cried? That I owe my hubby an encouragement saying that he's doing a proper job? After all, a spanking with no sounds would be boring. So what makes me yelp and exteriorize my pain when I could keep it to myself silently?

Maybe it's just my bratty attitude or another way to brag to myself: "hey, look at me, I *am* getting spanked and hell, it *is* hurting!". Can it be also that, psychologically, your own cries convince you that you are getting the punishment you deserve? Or maybe it's a signal to my hubby: "Hey, I've had enough. I think I can behave now."

Honestly, I tend to vote for the last alternative. But it just doesn't make sense. Why would I want a spanking to end before it reached my limit? It's not an efficient punishment anymore and soon, I will be asking for another one. The worst scenario is me standing up, rubbing my bum, and being ready to joke and act up again. And then I see his frustration and I feel like I won the battle of my life - I am an untamed brat, after all.

Why would I want something that I love to end before it should end? Is this the ultimate and the most profound attribute of masochism?

Why do you cry? Why do you yelp? Why not just keep it to yourself? Are you pleasing yourself or are you pleasing him?

Butt Temperature

How hot does your butt get after a good hand spanking, in Celsius or Fahrenheit? I'd be curious to know that!

Thursday, September 28, 2006

Spankophile... only 60%?

If I score this low, God help me, how do OTHERS score?

I'm afraid to ask.

Serious Spankophile
You are 60 % a Spankophile

Spanking definetly floats your boat. You arent a dyed in the wool spanking fetishist but its definetly part of your sexual blueprint. You quite likely have had an interest in spanking since childhood and have been actively pursuing this interest for many years. You look for partners or are with a partner who at least occasionally fulfills your spanking needs.

My test tracked 1 variable How you compared to other people your age and gender:

You scored higher than 75% on variable 1

Link: The Spankophile Test written by Spankophille on OkCupid Free Online Dating, home of the The Dating Persona Test

Milk and Chocolate

I don't know what was wrong with me this week, but I bought no less than four milk cartons while I drank three glasses only. It's just like by the time I was in the mood to have milk, I had already forgotten I had in the house. Then I opened a new one and forgot it outside so it went bad by morning, and then I bought one again and forgot it unopened in the bag and went bad again till the next day. For some good time I've had similar problems with milk. I buy one carton everytime and it goes bad everytime, either forgotten in the fridge or opened and forgotten. The only reason I buy this stupid milk is my cereals... and my Nesquick.

And speaking of chocolate... I can devote pages and pages to the forbidden delight. Instead, I'll settle for some pictures. It has nothing to do with spanking, you might say. Do you honestly care about spanking when we speak of chocolate? Go and buy a choco snack!


Liquid chocolate...

Chocolate pudding...

A whole box only for yourself...

Well, have no one to spank you today? Get some chocolate and make yourself happy!

Wednesday, September 27, 2006

Belts Again

Belts - my favorites... To which extent, though?

When I searched for the word 'belt' on Google, I've found plenty of them. Somehow, trapped in my spanking mood, I was prepared to see only black masculine belts. What I got instead was a bunch of brown, beige, and even pink ones. It was a major turn off.

For me, a black belt is the ultimate turn on. If you tried to scare me with a brown one, you'd only manage to make me laugh. It can even hiss into the air and I wouldn't care. Because, to me, only black belts are meant to take care of a proper spanking.

To ramble a little more, let's talk about the perfect belt in your everyday spanking fantasy. (Actually, in my spanking fantasy, since I am the one rambling and you are the one lurking.) And we're talking here only about black belts, the mean ones. Never a long buckle, but always square. Wider, rather than thinner. Flexible, not rigid. When doubled and pulled, it should crack just like a nice hard slap. Simple, not a rock-star belt, one that winks at you from a business man's fancy suit. And if this belt matches a serious shirt and some rolled sleeves, then we mean business! A word of advice when you meet this guy and his belt - make sure he is not a spanker enjoying the view of the roundness perfection of your butt.

To end this pointless discussion...

...with all its masculinity though, if I were to give a gender to the belt, I would have to call it a 'she'. Isn't that weird? I felt the need to call this evil thing a 'she' all through my post! What's wrong with me?!

A Famous Butt

Easy question: spankable enough? I don't think so -

but it seems these cheeks were too much for Justin Timberlake at Brit Awards 2003. He grabbed a handful and was more than pleased with himself. Kylie was playing along...

Out of the context, this picture would be promissing... *weg*

*Picture by AP*

Tuesday, September 26, 2006

Finally I can add pics!

Just because I like it!

"The Rise and Fall of Paul "Spanker" Johnson"

About an article some of you might know about, written by Christopher Hitchens - "The Rise and Fall of Paul "Spanker" Johnson", that appeared in Salon Media Circus, in 1998.

It's an interesting article about a controversial man.

The following paragraphs caught my attention:

There is almost no English surname, however ancient and dignified, that cannot be instantly improved by the prefix "Spanker." So deeply is the habit and culture of corporal punishment imbricated with the national psyche that whole shelves of specialist literature, to say nothing of entire racks of newspapers and magazines, are regularly devoted to the subject.


For evidence, I had no more to go upon than certain suggestive and repetitive elements in his "work."

So it was decidedly invigorating to learn, in the dog days of mid-May, that he had been exposed by his mistress of 11 years, the writer Gloria Stewart, as a spankee:

"Paul loved to be spanked and it was a big part of our relationship. I had to tell him he was a very naughty boy."


And here's another, from "Left of Center":

Henry found his gaze straying to her round and rosy bottom, which rose and fell gently to the rhythm of her breathing. What to do? Henry pondered in the doorway. ... "There's nothing more calculated, old man, to excite a woman than a good hard slap on her behind. None of your playful taps, mind. A real stinger. They come up foaming at the mouth."

Dora's bottom invited him. Here was his chance, at one blow, to reassume his masculine, paramount role in their relationship. Draining his glass and setting it down decisively on the dressing table, he advanced purposefully over Dora's sleeping form and brought his hand down with tremendous force.

I really like this: "There's nothing more calculated, old man, to excite a woman than a good hard slap on her behind. None of your playful taps, mind. A real stinger. They come up foaming at the mouth." It really makes you laugh and wonder. Remember I was talking about friends who like it a little rough, but who are not into spanking? This quote surely applies to them.

The Jungle Book

I remembered "The Jungle Book", by Rudyard Kipling, one of my favorite books when I was ten, and how much a scene had troubled me back then. My edition had a picture depicting the paragraph below, with Mowgli getting whacked by Baloo. I have no idea why they added an illustration to this particular paragraph, when they had so many other options...

The story came to my mind last week, when I wanted to buy the unabridged version for my classics collection. But I didn't buy it in the end. Don't know why.

While the scene has nothing weird inside, I kept reading it again and again, and looking at the picture next to it. Anyway, keep in mind that I was only ten, will you? It was my only book with a spanking picture inside. It was quite easy for me to identify with another ten year old.

Baloo said to Bagheera, one day when Mowgli had been cuffed and run off in
a temper, "A man's cub is a man's cub, and he must learn all the Law of the

"But think how small he is," said the Black Panther, who would have
spoiled Mowgli if he had had his own way. "How can his little head carry all thy
long talk?"

"Is there anything in the jungle too little to be killed? No. That is
why I teach him these things, and that is why I hit him, very softly, when he

"Softly! What dost thou know of softness, old Iron-feet?"
Bagheera grunted. "His face is all bruised today by thy—softness. Ugh."

"Better he should be bruised from head to foot by me who love him than
that he should come to harm through ignorance," Baloo answered very earnestly.
"I am now teaching him the Master Words of the Jungle that shall protect him
with the birds and the Snake People, and all that hunt on four feet, except his
own pack. He can now claim protection, if he will only remember the words, from
all in the jungle. Is not that worth a little beating?"

Sunday, September 24, 2006

Story: Coming to Senses, M/F, nc, birch (part 1)

Intro: It's been so long since my last spanking story. It was nice that something came out again, finally! Originally, this story was written as an M/m - before I knew I had an interest in spanking. So now I pretty much kept the setting, but changed the idea. I like it better as an M/F. I really do.

Picture from Kawaii Wallpapers. They have pretty ones...

Coming to Senses, M/F, nc, birch (part 1)

Kayley collapsed under the chestnut tree, in front of her house. She started laughing, her mind quite puzzled about the source of humor.

“Damn it, girl, don’t do this to me! I have to get home. C’mon! Up!” Bending over, Julia tried to grab her best friend’s arm and haul her up. “It’s past my curfew time, Kay. Don’t be a bitch! Mike is gonna kill me.”

She brushed her hair, measured her friend with an amused look then stared at the impressive red brick house a few feet away. All windows were dark, except for one. And through the living room’s wide French windows she could see the silhouette of the man pacing around.

"Girl, you’re in fucking big trouble.” She laughed. “At least I won’t be the only one getting it tonight. Will you stop laughing? It’s not funny. Stop laughing and start thinking about a way to get us out of this mess. And it’s all your fault, by the way!”

The last giggles escaped Kay’s mouth a bit forced, as if trying to hide her own uneasiness. The uncountable numbers of Bacardi glasses were starting to leave her brain, and the reality kicked in her foggy consciousness.

“He’s still up?” – She asked, turning towards the house. “Why on earth isn’t he sleeping?”

“Surprise, surprise,” Jules shook her head. “Honestly now, were you expecting him to be asleep? You’re dumber than I thought! Listen,” – she bent down again, helping Kay to her feet – “I gotta go now. Tell me you’re okay.”

“I’m fine,” Kay gave a bored smile. “Just piss off already and stop annoying me. If you get whacked tonight you’re gonna blame it on me.”

“Of course I will,” Jules smiled. “Are you sure you’re fine? You know you’re home, don’t you? Just walk to the door and go in, you know?”

“Fuck it, girl, I’m not that drunk! Duh! I know I’m home. Just go and stop pissing me off.” Then, as if coming to terms with her anger, she extended a drunken hand towards the road. “Just go. We’ll talk tomorrow. Drive carefully though.”

“Yeah. Sure… I will. See ya…”

Kay watched her friend fade in the dim light, towards the main street, where her car was expecting her. Jules reached the corner, turned back and waved at Kay. Kay waved back, half heartedly.

It had been Jules’s idea to leave the Ford on the main street, just in case Jack would see her driving. And Jack was good friends with Mike and the rest of the story would have come out with a bruised butt for Jules.

Yes, Jack *was* up. Kay wiped away the grin from her tired face. She was cold, even on a hot summer night like this, and the chills had raised goose bumps on her arms and the hair on her nape.

She remained rooted to the ground, slightly aware of her thoughts, eyes following the impatient shadow pacing behind the curtains. God, she was in trouble! She wasn’t sure how ‘trouble’ was spelled at this hour of the night, but she had a vague idea in which form it would reach her.

Her hand rested on the trunk of the chestnut tree for support, as the red moon seemed to dance on the sky. The whole world was engaged in a mocking ballet and her stomach acknowledged it the moment her guts twisted and crammed. She puked her life out, in a disgusting jet of brown liquid. She fell on her knees, one hand resting on her hot forehead. “Shit,” she thought as her body contracted once more, and she felt the acid burn on her throat. “God, let this be the last one. I swear I will never drink again. Let this be the last one!” She wiped the drip of saliva off her mouth slowly, recovering. Her head pulsed painfully, as if a vice had caught her temples. Her eyes rose full of pain to the house; thirsty and burning inside, she dragged her feet through the wet grass towards the entrance. She had no recollection of her previous train of thoughts. The whole world resumed to now. And now was pretty bleak when she touched the doorknob, pushed the door open, and risked a peak into the dim hallway - her future.

“What time is it, Kayley?”

The voice caught her in between tiptoeing towards the stairs. Her feet froze, her breath stopped.

Nonchalant. You are definitely not drunk!

She turned around slowly, poker faced. Yet her traits twitched nervously, incapable of following her orders. She smirked.

A black outline in the lighted doorway, the man was fixing her. You did not need to see his face to understand his state of mind - Kayley had a good idea about it without seeing his expression. The tone was enough – enough to send her small body sinking in the parquet covered floor.

“Heeeey…” – she grinned. “I didn’t know –“

“Kayley, what time is it?”

Just cutting to the chase, huh?

She turned her gaze to the big clock on the wall. She knew it had hands, and she knew there should have been two; now she could see a couple of them. She opened her eyes wide, like the drunk that she was, trying to figure it out.

“Thank you, Kay. I’ll tell you what time it is: it’s only three in the morning.”

“Oh… It is?”

Yeah… Don’t let him get you. Play stupid!

“Get your ass over here.”

We are so fucking doomed. Walk straight. Straight… And don’t talk when you’re too close...

She glided carefully in her eyes, and more like stomped in his, towards the open door. Close enough to see his tired and stern face. He looked worried and disoriented, with his white business shirt hanging loose over his pants.

“Do you have any idea how worried I’ve been?”

She didn’t answer, instead her eyes traveled to the floor.

“Do you?”

Kay shook her head. No, she didn’t. She didn’t care about how worried he had been. She was too drunk to care about anything. She was hardly aware of what was going on.

He seemed to sniff something and his voice fell hard on her, accusingly. “Did you drink?”

“No, I –“

“March your ass inside!”

Her heart pounced against her ribs. “But I just –“

“Young lady, if you make me repeat something one more time, I’m gonna spank your ass until you won’t be able to stand up and you won’t know what hit you. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Sir…”

“Then march your sorry ass inside. Now!”

“Just let me explain! Why can’t you ever let me explain? It’s not fair!”

Hell, did she stomp her foot? She certainly did not.

Jack’s fingers grabbed her ear before she had time to protest and he dragged her in, after him. She cried. He slammed the door shut. She whimpered, hand reaching tentatively to her burning ear, trying to protect it. Suddenly she felt very awake. The Bacardi had escaped to a part of her body she wasn’t aware of. Her voice went up by a few octaves. “Ooof… I’m sorry I’m sorry… It’s not my fault. Pleaasee…” Towed by his grip, she followed him around the room, to the cabinet, from where he retrieved the birch she cut last spring. “Noooo…” Her legs weakened, and if he hadn’t held her by her ear, she would have been already hugging her knees on the floor, in the corner of the room. “Nooo, I don’t want the birch. Jack, pleaaasee…”

The swish cut the air high-pitched, in her sight. She shrank.

“I didn’t plan on using this on you tonight, but you’ve earned yourself a few strokes, Kay.”

His determined hand dragged her to the massive desk across the room and bent her over.

“It wasn’t me talking, it was the alcohol…”

“And that’s why this is going to be a warm up only, to teach you proper behavior when talking to me. Don’t you dare move,” he snarled when she tried to push herself up. His hand reached to the front of her tight jeans, undid the buttons, hooked down her Tommy Hilfiger navy cotton knickers. “Even drunk, you are going to learn to behave, do you understand?”

“Yes, Sir!” The far end of the desk became blurry, as she recognized the needle-like sensation in her sinuses and tears began to form in her eyes.

“And never ever again you are to stomp your foot when I am talking to you!” His palm forced her torso closer to the wood. Her small protesting sounds filled the room until his hand came down, birch on her white skin, and then her howl exploded. “No more, no more, I swear I won’t do it again. I won’t drink again!”

The birch rose again, without wasting any time; the swish, followed by her scream, by his lecture. “Kay, I assure you this is not the spanking for drinking. This is for your previous behavior.” Another swish, another yelp. “This is what that big mouth of yours has earned you.” The birch landed again, making her struggle against his palm, pressed on her back. “This is for stomping your foot.” Her tears smeared on the smooth surface of his desk, her feet kicked. The welts burnt like fire licks. “And this is for trying to sneak in past me.” She cried again, from the top of her lungs. She fought back with all her might, against her mind asking her to behave. “And even if you are dancing now in Booze Land, I still expect you to keep a position and control yourself.” She subsided finally. And lay limp, as he threw away the birch and went on slapping her butt with his hand. “This is hardly a spanking, as you well know it, Kay. If you weren’t drunk, for such a behavior, I would have really thrashed you.”

As her cries changed into sobs, he stopped. She was hardly aware of his hand leaving the small of her back. He picked the birch from the floor and went around the desk, sitting himself on the chair facing her. She didn’t look up. Her fingers were still tightly entangled; nail mark scratches raised on her skin as she had tried to stop the pain in her butt.

He waiting patiently, his sympathy covered behind a stern mask.

He placed the birch on the desk in front of her eyes.

“Do you see this birch, Kayley?”

She risked a look up. Wet mascara had painted black traces of the tears on her cheeks.

“Yes, Sir…”

“This is what you will get again tomorrow. This time for drinking.”

She wailed. She begged. He hushed her.

Her eyes followed his hands reaching for his pants and unbuckling the belt.

“Noooo… Please not the belt…”

He slid it out slowly, doubled it, and put it next to the birch.

“Also the belt… for staying up late, putting yourself in danger, and worrying me to death.”

“But I don’t want the belt,” she managed to mumble between hiccups.

Jack smiled indulgently, raised his eyebrows, and locked her eyes into his.

“Since when do you decide what you want for your punishment, young lady?”

She looked down.

“Thought so,” he added. “Go wash your face and go to bed. Tomorrow morning I will deal you. And then we’re gonna have some guests coming over. Needless to say that I expect your best behavior, since they are important business people and our money depend on it.”

Kayley mumbled softly her protests.

Jack raised an eyebrow again and forced her chin up.

“Do I make myself clear?”

Silence. Small, timid protests.

“Kayley, if you don’t go to bed this instant, I have a feeling that you’ll get to taste that birch again tonight.”

He picked up the birch. She straightened up, fought to pull her panties and jeans up. Her lip trembled. Her feet scampered on the floor. She stopped in the doorway for one second. Jack watched her amused. He knew she would do something stupid. She was still drunk after all. But he hid his smile when she turned a rebellious look to him: “I’m not going to any bed tonight.” She flew in an instant, but she had time to hear the evil swish of the birch cutting the air, emphatically. “You heard that, young lady?” – Jack retorted sternly, without bothering to run after her. “That’s gonna come on your butt tomorrow morning and I’ll make sure to add five from the house, for that little comment you’ve just made.”

“I’m not gonna sleep!” – her answer came tauntingly from the top of the stairs.

“Well,” he raised his voice for his words to reach her, “I’ll be in the bedroom in twenty minutes, and I better find you in bed and sleeping. And trust me, I’ll have this birch with me!”

A door closed with a slam upstairs, marking the end of the discussion.

“And I’ll make sure to include that on the list,” he added to himself, placing the birch back on the desk, and grabbing the belt. He stood up, slowly sliding it back in its loops. He knew she would be sound asleep in twenty minutes, and he also knew that her punishment would seem a lot more real to her in the morning - especially before she would see the belt out again. So let her have her fun tonight, because tomorrow she gets to pay for it, he mused, buckling his belt.

*End of Part 1*

Quizzes Time!!

Sometimes I just love them!

What Your Bathroom Habits Say About You

You are very independent and self-centered. You don't solve other people's problems - and you don't expect them to solve yours.

You spend a lot on clothes, and you tend to be a very dresser. However, it's hard for you to throw away trendy clothes when they go out of style.

You are a very outgoing person. You are true to yourself, and you never hold back.

In relationships, you tend to be very romantic and demanding. You'll treat your partner like gold, but you expect a lot in return.

You Are From Neptune

You are dreamy and mystical, with a natural psychic ability.
You love music, poetry, dance, and (most of all) the open sea.
Your soul is filled with possibilities, and your heart overflows with compassion.
You can be in a room full of friendly people and feel all alone.
If you don't get carried away with one idea, your spiritual nature will see you through anything.

Your Learning Style: Curious and Brilliant

You are a very abstract learner. You can grasp even the most complex theories.

You Should Study:

Computer Science

You Are 55% Left Brained, 45% Right Brained

The left side of your brain controls verbal ability, attention to detail, and reasoning.
Left brained people are good at communication and persuading others.
If you're left brained, you are likely good at math and logic.
Your left brain prefers dogs, reading, and quiet.

The right side of your brain is all about creativity and flexibility.
Daring and intuitive, right brained people see the world in their unique way.
If you're right brained, you likely have a talent for creative writing and art.
Your right brain prefers day dreaming, philosophy, and sports.

You've Changed 68% in 10 Years

Compared to who you were ten years ago, you've changed a great deal.
In fact, you're probably in a completely different phase of your life - and very happy about it!

And this is an interesting result:
You Are 68% Grown Up, 32% Kid

Congratulations, you are definitely quite emotionally mature.
Although you have your moments of moodiness, you're usually stable and level headed.

You Are 12% Paranoid Schizophrenic

You're so far from paranoid schizophrenic...
you probably found this quiz to be quite amusing.

They were right. It was amusing. lol

You're Totally Sarcastic

You sarcastic? Never! You're as sweet as a baby bunny.
Seriously, though, you have a sharp tongue - and you aren't afraid to use it.
And if people are too wimpy to deal with your attitutde, then too bad. So sad.

Can Spanking be Hereditary?

Remember the article I was talking about a few posts back? The Sound of One Hand Slapping by Ashlea Halpern?

I found an interesting reply she got to her article.

To be fair to my mother, she knew of my preoccupation from the saucy little
drawings and bits of original punishment prose I wasn't careful enough in
hiding. And the reality of her own childhood spanking fantasies (disclosed to me
in later life) may well have figured in her reluctance to ever put me over her
knee. When I was 14, she privately confronted me one day with a naughty
paperback (I didn't waste much time in doing all I could to obtain related text
and images) I'd forgotten in the bathroom. To my face, she asked me if I felt
I'd "missed out by never getting a bare bottom spanking." I melted in a puddle
of shame and was told to stop being silly.

I wonder if my Mom knew my interests? I assume she did. My journal, my normal stories were filled with spanking moments. I think I got deeper and better only when I wrote these bits. I also know she read many of them. So I'm just curious what she thought of them. But I'll never find out. And I'm happy with that.

Sometimes, when she talks to the cats, I have the feeling that she was into it too. And if that is the case, can spanking be, hereditary? Can there be more to it than a state of mind? Even if we develope the interest around four or five, the predisposition has to exist, thus something biological too. Of course, I tend to believe that it's all related to the mind, but things like this just make me wonder. Can there really be something in our genes that makes us susceptible of catching the spanking virus?

I Wanna Quit Smoking Already

Yesterday I shoved two packs into my lungs. True, they are the lightest cigarettes on the market, but still, two packs. I panicked. Like I said, he's not around, I lose control.

I spent a couple of hours on yesterday, checking out funny clips with my other friend online. Then my best friend called from abroad, Sweetgirl, and we've talked for three hours. We rambled about everything. God, I miss that chick! I dragged her into the spanking chat rooms once upon a time, while she was not a spanko. She got her virtual spankings though and had fun. *grins* She's the chick that knows me better than anyone else and keeps my secret safe. And I haven't seen her for almost six months now, with no chances of seeing her too soon either. It sucks. Your best friend being so far away...

Anyway, we've been on the phone until almost 4am my time. And she'll call again tonight. She's such a good friend that she is willing to let me use her card to get the punishedbrats membership. lol I wish there could be something I could do for her. I just feel like she's done all these awesome things for me and that I'm not doing anything. I feel bad.

Can't wait to get a job again - yeah, I quit my previous job - and have some money to spend. And do that soon, before our bank account goes completely empty.

Anyway, gotta pack now and all that. And need to go to the shop downstairs to buy ciggarettes. Ahhh, Jack, move your damn sexy ass home already! I can't take myself anymore. I have to ask him on the phone to suggest "a slight improvement in my smoking behavior or else..." Maybe *that* would help, if I can't help myself.

Saturday, September 23, 2006

How My Kink Developed

I've been wondering for some time now. It usually becomes obvious when you read your old fiction or when you try to use your cliche fantasies and you discover it just doesn't trigger it for you anymore.

One of my oldest and best fantasies related to Jack - that should be my hubby, - always implied the same setting - our house, - and domestic discipline. It's not that I'm not interested, but the situation changes: I don't picture myself as a total brat anymore - probably because I am not what I used to be - and I don't resist the spankings. I tend to focus more on the ritual now, a ritual copied from our real life spankings. The reasons for a spanking were never far brought, but now they really are down to earth. Being sassy, nagging, or just needing a spank are all good enough to get your butt spanked. Before I needed deeper crimes.

Like I said, now I'm alone, and he won't be back for a few good days, and I started acting up a bit already. My shopping plans tend to pass our credit card limit. The smart part of me says - watch out, you don't want a crazy interest now when you're money situation is bad - while the bratty part says - hey, you know what, I don't care about the card, all I care about is to have that cool underware I saw at Marks & Spencer. It's a hard decision, because his answer was already "No", you won't get it now, you get it later, blah blah. If I get in trouble if I buy it? I don't know. Probably. Probably that's why I want it so badly! And from there, the fantasy grows. Pathetic but real reason. Keep it simple when it comes to fantasies, that's my motto.

The OTK and over the lap positions are still the ones that work best, but I developed a preference for couches and feet not touching the floor. I like long lectures that take me into headspace, that increase my anticipation. I don't really want to be restrained anymore - I developed into someone who can finely cope with being whacked soundly and if not I don't cope, I am ready to face the consequences. I want to be treated like a brat that knows the spanking routine and is expected to follow the implied rules. I don't test the waters anymore, because I know how deep they run. And if I have a big mouth and a colorful language, then whack my bum for it, I deserve it. I can count the strokes if you ask me too - one thing I wouldn't have done before unless thouroughly spanked. No problem for my mouth to utter "sorry" and "Sir"'s anymore. No problem in begging my way out of a spanking while also accepting it if it comes my way. As for running from one - no way, that belongs to the past.

However, now that it's been a month, I think, without a spanking - God knows if not more - my butt starts tingling and I'm close to begging for one. My actions are, I think. And I'm already trying to anticipate how it will happen. Of course that I have no clue, but fantasising is nice. It will definitely involve a hand but I am also hoping for and dreading the belt. I don't have any hairbrushes left in the house so I am a bit puzzled if to buy one or not. Yeah, if he was to buy one I would laugh my ass off, but that is very unlikely. I'm curious if we go for routine or something new. I think I prefer no role playing this time. *sighs* I just want to be punished for my misdeeds and carelessness while he was gone. It's almost like I deserve it.

Yes, so let me wrap it up by adding that one last thing which has changed for me - I would have never accepted that I deserved a spanking before. As for asking for one? You wish.

Adding some Blogs

Hey again!

I added some blogs today to my links. When luck strikes... Well, I found the blogs of some people I really cared about on SSS: Haron, Mija, Pablo, Sparkle... It's good to know they still write about spanking. *grins* And they write good stuff too! I would check their blogs if I were you. :)


My First... and His First Too

It is understandable that his first doesn't matter as much as my first. *eg* I have to thank Bonnie for reminding me that my spanking experience also had a beginning.

I was abroad visiting him. My spanking interest was dormant, given that my sexual interest, aroused by him, was climbing the Everest. He has a tendancy - hell, it's no tendancy, it's who he is - to be in control when doing it. It might be one of the things that attracted me in the first place. So my mood for spanking popped up again when, teasingly, he slapped my butt. Now go figure - if you haven't had a spanking yet and your subconscious is craving one, what do you do? You fidget about it until you can't keep it inside anymore, and you start leaving small pieces behind, for him to complete the puzzle for you. Which I did. A bit ashamed of myself and stattering and all that, but I did it. And then, knowing his interest for school girls, I thought that mixing the two would be a good idea.

Schoolgirl outfit? Never had one. But I surely had short skirts and plenty of them too. I went shopping for white socks and a white shirt, and I managed to put something together for the evening. His parents went out, leaving us alone. So I prepaired. Didn't know for what, exactly, but spanking was not really something on my mind. I was thinking more in RP terms. Some kind of punishment, screwing around and all that. So when he came in the room, he had his story ready. I was the bad girl, failing the test and not wearing a proper uniform. He was the teacher, ready to give me something to remember. I wish I would remember the dialogue, but by the time his attitude became dominant, I started melting in a puddle of thrills. Fog seemed to cover my mind, my legs - I couldn't feel them and couldn't move them either. I couldn't speak.

He lectured me about the test, my general behavior, and I kept mumbling something. I think I called him "Sir", but I did not do it willingly. And then he simply asked me to turn around and bend over. He had to repeat it, since I was already in Neverland and could hardly absorb the situation. I was quite impressed. I had turned into a doll for you to play with the way you want. And that's when I got my first real swats. All my answers had to be reapeated, since my mumbling didn't make sense. And then came the second part of the punishment. And I was in heaven.

For a long time - months maybe or years - he held back, scared of my screams and complains, scared he would hurt me. He got over it. A few times he got over it better than me even - I'll remember the spank I got with the hand, belt, and jumping rope for the rest of my life, that's for sure. And God, he learns fast. He never ceases to amaze me. I mean, I wouldn't call him a vanilla anymore. I wouldn't dare. Because someone who manages to get over his fear of hurting and manages to make a spankee cry is no longer a vanilla. He knows his business already.

My hubby absorbs spanking information like a sponge. Let me see. He was quite clumsy before about over the knee business. Then he learnt that, plus how to hold me down and spank my bum while sitting on a chair. Then sofa, with my head dangling close to the floor. Then pinning my hands, then punishing me for not keeping my hands home - we apply this as much as we can - and now pinning my legs. He even learnt how to spank in the most effective way. I don't know what he is doing when he is home alone and where he is learning all this from, but who cares? The job is done. I even did corner time and it was quite strict.

I'm a brat. And when it comes to spanking, I'm worse. But any smart brat learns in time to behave, if she has someone to teach her to. So while I still make a big fuss about spankings, I know when to shut my mouth now. Before, I was testing, pushing limits. What will he do if I go on being bratty? Will he spank more? Naaaah, he is not into spanking after all and he won't. Now we are somewhere where I have a 'position' over his lap, and he'd better not see my hands coming back to cover my butt. Where I still whine about my pants and panties being pulled down but I don't slap his hands anymore or try to stop him - unless I really want to get it. Where I don't curse at him anymore and I call him "Sir" when I can't take it anymore. And where he doesn't believe my "I'll be good" and "I won't do it again" any longer, and makes sure I mean it. He learnt where my limit is - where I can stand up and behave and where, still hurting, I stand up and act up again. Yup, we are a long way from where we were and still plenty ahead.

Probably his early successes, and the ones he still scores are pretty much related to the impact of his voice on me. He has the right tone and attitude. And headspace, I'm sure everyone agrees, takes you half way through the spanking. The headspace makes the difference between a spanking and a beating. He knows that. He exploits it.

So why would I need a real spanker when I have him? He is better than anything I would have ever wanted to witness. And God, do I love him for that!

Friday, September 22, 2006

Actors that Would be Nice in a Spanking Scene

I would vote for Mel Gibson, for some reason. If you find out why, let me know. hehe

Anybody watching "Lost"? Good. Then you know Sawyer. That would be a guy good in a spanking scene. I can't picture one he would be good into, but I know I would know if I saw it.

"Bonanza" - Adam, that is Pernell Roberts. He has a scene spanking a spanish chick. I don't remember the epidose, but I remember watching it. It's good enough. You can find it on if you're interested.

Dr. Aaron Shutt from "Chicago Hope", Adam Arkin. How did I come out with that? I was watching "Hitch" a while ago and I just thought he would do a proper job. Funny thing is that I also thought Will Smith capable of a good spanking. Yeah, you have to see the guy mad if you want to understand his potential. hehe If he looks sexy and impressive when he's mad, he has all the chances to be a good spanker. Even if only for the movies.

The Review

Like I said, today I lost a post. I'll try to recreate. It usually doesn't work. I like being spontaneous and generally, you can't be spontaneous more than once.

Anyway, I wanna quote something from that article.

As it turns out, there are two main types of spanking: sexual or romantic, and

I know there are people out there who like it sexual/romantic. They are usually a variation that is closer to vanilla, I think, than to spanko. I know real people who prefer their boyfriends to be restrictive or harsh during sex. But hell, from there to being a dedicated spanker, it's a long road. And it's all about being born with it. And since we came to this:

Both [David] Pierson and Wells believe spankos are born, not made. Pierson was
never spanked by his parents but remembers sneaking peeks at Penny Birch novels.
Likewise, Wells would look up the word "spank" in the dictionary and thrill at
books and cartoons that depicted the act.

I honestly believe that I have finished all the materials related to spanking in my house or my gramma's house. Maybe even my neighbor's books, for that matter. I read through any biography searching for what I was interested in. It's good stuff, especially when you have no idea that your kink is actually a sex deviation of some sort. The thing that freaked me out though was Freaud's work on 'spanking'. According to him, all of us, spankos, should go completely nuts in time. When you are young, you believe it. Now I don't anymore. Not after I got to see so many others like me out there. It's all about not being alone.

Another thing I have heard about, came from a guy. He hasn't been into spanking, it seems, until his girlfriend got him into it. Then he started looking for spanking partners. Very funny indeed. And I still think he was born with it, but it was only a matter of time until he would figure it out by himself. Thanks God he had someone to show him the light. hehe

Yeah, this post is really bad compared to the one I wrote this morning, but I'll have to live with it I'm afraid. I am too tired and bored to be original.

A Nice Review

I am gonna kill this blogger!!! It doesn't have an undo button! I wrote a huge article and instead of saving, like the idiot that I am, I pressed ctr-v. And it was gone. I cursed the sh*t out of it IRL. It's so depressing... And what the heck is the ctr-z button, presumebly the 'undo', supposed to do? 'Cause it didn't do a sh*t for me! *grumble*

You know what? I' in no mood to rewrite, so here's the link. Enjoy it. The Sound of One Hand Slapping, by Ashlea Halpern.

Wednesday, September 20, 2006

A New Site

I thought it was one of the best ever, dealing with videos and DVDs. It's farely new and I wish my credit card didn't have a problem with buying things online. hehe

The idea is, I don't know about you, but their sample videos certainly trigger something for me. For once, the acting doesn't resamble acting. The stories are nice and real, not brought from outer-space. And the spanking... oh, boy, it's hot!

Well, check it out and tell me if I'm wrong! ;) And if I'm not, come back and thank me for giving you the addy. lol

Monday, September 18, 2006

Mija's Treehouse and a Memory

Anyone who has ever lurked or posted on SSS knows Mija and Pablo. And those who know Mija and Pablo, know their Treehouse. I love that place. Each time I get into the spanking mood for stories, I visit it. It's the only place that has quality spanking fiction, in my view.

I was just reading "Playin' House" and the story reminded me of myself when I was - maybe five? It was before kindergarten so I must have been younger than five and a half. My grandfather used to play a lot with me back then. I loved playing war scenes, and we were marching around the house and singing songs and I was hiding and shooting around and all that. I used a miniature wooden pool stick as a weapon and made phhhhphmmm sounds as my fire gun shot down the German soldiers. My grandfather had seen both world wars, and the army was a tough thing back then.

I also remember at some point asking him to spank me. His face was puzzled - I remember that. And he playfully swat my butt. And I recall telling him - "Not like that. Real spanking." And I got on his lap. Even funnier - I've never been spanked on anybody's lap, but I got the now and then swats for being too independant and savage. Maybe I saw the thing in a movie, maybe I heard stories of kids being spanked. In any case, I knew a spanking would happen with the child over the parent's lap. So I got in position, a bit thrilled, and my Grandpa playfully whacked my butt. But that wasn't enough for me even then. "Not like this," I said. "It doesn't hurt. I'll bring you something from the kitchen."

I went to my Gramma, in the kitchen and asked for an implement I can't remember. "What do you need it for?" - she asked me a bit puzzled. And then, for the first time in my life, I was ashamed to say I needed because I wanted my granfather to spank me with it for personal pleasure. So I lied. "We want to play with it," I said. And Granma gave it over.

I brought it back to Grandpa and then, maybe I got swats with it, maybe not. The scene eludes me now. The only thing I am left with now is my wonder. Was that my first step into becoming a spankee? And if so, was that what started it, out of curiosity. Was that excitement and shame and thrill related to what I would become?

So this is my first memory related to spanking.

I also have a picture of me, sleeping like a little angel, in a hotel at the seaside. I was around two. I don't remember, of course, but that summer I had plenty of happy pictures taken on the beach, in the water, playing, running, building sand castles, caring water in a red plastic bucket from the sea. I was a very pretty blond baby. So that picture was one of my favs. Until a few years ago, when I was looking through them with my Dad and I made a comment about how nice they were. And he pointed to the one with me sleeping peacefully. "You made a huge scene and cried that you didn't want to sleep. You were very tired. Here I spanked you with my shoe laces. It didn't hurt but you still cried and fell asleep instantly." Quite funny again, because my Dad very rarely slapped me and never spanked me.

The story of my life was of me making a scene about eating and napping, and then, after a few swats from my Grandma, I would sleep like an angel for three hours at least. That was always after she had told me stories for an hour and she had fallen asleep herself a few good times. After she had played with my hair until her hand went numb. And God help me, I had a reach vocabulary at those times.

Another strong memory was when I almost got the belt for being a brat again - bratting was on my everyday schedule. My Granma called me for lunch I suppose. I dreaded that because, being all day outside, I was eating all the fruits and veggies you could find in the garden, including onions. At lunch time, I was full. And I hated meat or chicken. I would chew it until it lost flavor, and then spit it out. I hated boiled veggies and my soup was always sieved. I ate it counting the spoons - always ten. Sometimes I stopped at five. So that day I refused to come. She called who knows how many times, until she decided to come and get me. We had a corn field, good for hiding, so I made my Grandma run after me in the corn field. She couldn't catch me. And then my Granpa came and tried to catch me. I dunno if they caught me or not or what happened, but my next memory switched to me being inside and me crying because Grandpa had never been so furios before and he had never taken his belt out to spank me. He dind't. But the feeling and the thrill remained with me forever. Yep. My grandfather never touched me. My grandmother did the job now and then, with me kicking her back for every slap I got. Being spanked was something that happened to other kids, but not to me. I was too proud to accept it.