The naughtiness continues!

This evening Abel and I went out to dinner with some new friends. Let's call them Bambi and the Hunter. Mainly because one will really hate their name and the other will be bemused by it.

We've met Bambi and the Hunter a couple of times now. Enough for EJ to start escaping. Both are fairly new to the scene and meeting kinksters, although both experienced with each other. They're partly contributing to my kinky re-awakening as I look at their enthusiasm to play and their precious time grabbed with each other, making the most of it. I used to be like that; before I got spoiled and had play on tap. Before there wasn't room to flirt and brat and fantasise because my play was all around me.

But I digress, that's a blog post for another day. Needless to say with EJ escaping and finding a kindred spirit in Bambi the evening turned out to be playfully mischievous. First there was a ride on a carousel for Bambi, Abel and me. (Oh how we sniggered that Abel rode Joseph!) Then a trip to the big purple cow to sit on the magic mushrooms (work that one out yourselves people!) Before dinner in Yo Sushi.

Now this is one of my favourite places to eat at the minute but I hadn't truly appreciated the potential for brattiness. There's the water taps on the table: if you push the tap too hard everyone on the table gets splashed or if you overfill the drip tray people's feet underneath the table get wet! Then there's the fun of pressing the service bell, on and off, lights flashing and announcer claiming table 12 needs attention, followed by the exasperated look of the waiter arriving to find we weren't in need of anything at all. Or the fun of the carousel with the bowls of sushi. However, I'm not going to describe the strange chocolate dessert, save to say Abel's description of 'japanese condom' was very apt!

As the Hunter took Bambi off he promised she would pay for her naughtiness. Abel assured him I would pay for mine too. And so I got my first caning in my new home, with the dreaded dragon cane. I would have gotten six, but HH on hearing I was to be punished was so approving that Abel decided to double it, in his honour.

I can't tell a lie: the 12 strokes really hurt! But I was a good girl and took them bravely(ish). Didn't I stripe beautifully?

Up to Mischief!

Abel and I went on holiday recently. We had a lovely time and got up to lots of mischief. Of course some kinds of mischief can get a girl into trouble. Like when we visited a lovely walled garden, full of delicious fruit for any naughty girl to be tempted by.

I couldn't resist and got so distracted that I didn't hear the gardener enter. I was caught in the act, stealing his prized apples. I was so afraid I ran away, but didn't get very far. The gates were locked and despite my efforts I couldn't get over them!

The gardener was very annoyed and told me I was in for a sound spanking. Over his knee I went there and then, squealing loudly as his hard hand punished my poor bottom.

And aftwerwards he tied me to a post, my red bottom on show so that everyone could see exactly what happens to naughty little thieves!

The battle for sleep

Each time I visit HH there is a battle of wills over how much sleep I can have. Over the course of all my visits I have been tawsed or hairbrushed out of bed more times than I care to remember! 

Now to be fair to him, my getting up time is generally negotiated the night before and he does make allowances for the type of week I’ve had in the run-up to the visit. And in theory I don’t want to spend the entire weekend asleep and ignoring him. 

The problem is we both have different ideas as to what a decent lie-in is. (On Saturday I told him to wake me if I slept into a ridiculous hour, i.e. 1 or 2, whereas he had 10 or 11 in his head!) But even when we agree on a time when the morning comes I just don’t want to get up.  

My trick this weekend was to get up on time, present myself to him announcing I was up and then diving back into the nearest bed.  So on Sunday morning when I had come down to his room and he was checking his work emails while I happily dozed away in his bed, a short little scene came into my head that I quite fancied playing. Even better it was one that would allow me to get an extra hour in bed as he prepared for it!

I quickly mailed him this short scenario.

Sarah is still in bed, when she should have been up and gone to college an hour ago. When her Uncle comes to wake her she pleads that she's sick. He suspects she's actually hungover. This isn't the first 9AM lecture she's missed after being out the evening before. (She lives with him at college, it's her first term and he suspects she's getting led astray).

And then fell back to sleep to awake as Sarah.

I was woken by Uncle Henry bursting into my room. “Sarah what are you doing in bed at this time of day?” Bleary eyed I gazed up at him before giving up and retreating back to the lovely darkness of my duvet. I was feeling decidedly unwell. My head hurt and my tummy was churning. So when he pulled my duvet down I told him truthfully that I was too sick to go to lectures. 

Unfortunately Uncle was sharp enough to suspect my sickness might have been self-induced, enquiring at just what time did I get home last night. I didn’t think it wise to admit I had no idea what time it was or I exactly how I had got there. So I mumbled a reasonable 2AM. The explosion this was met with hurt my ears. Why was he shouting at me? And why wasn’t he at work at this time? Bothersome man, sometimes free rent is not worth it.

Still I insisted I was ill, describing my fever and my aches and pains. When he put his hand on my forehead it felt lovely and cool, until he said there were no signs of a fever that he could feel. I pouted and whined that I really was sick and thought I had convinced him when he disappeared out of the room. But all too soon he was back and to my horror was dragging me out of bed as I complained loudly.

Before I knew it I was over his knee with my shorts and knickers pulled down and he was checking my temperature in the most absence way. I almost died in horror. Despite my protesting he wouldn’t let me up until he pronounced that I wasn’t sick at all and I needed to be taught a lesson.

He ordered me to bring him my hairbrush and then actually spanked me with it! Me, at 19 getting spanked, it was too horrendous to believe. And all time he was lecturing about missing classes and going out too much whilst I tried in vain to pretend the spanking wasn’t hurting. Cos it was, really, really, badly.  My bottom was all hot and I couldn’t help kicking and wriggling. In the end I begged him to stop and promised I’d be good. And I actually meant it to. 

To make it even worse he threatened that if missed any more lectures he’d ground me and tell my friends I couldn’t go out as he didn’t want to have to spank me the next day. This made me howl all the more.Horrid beastly, unfair man. 

When he finally let me up I practically ran into the shower nad spent a long time looking at my red bottom in the mirror. I'd have to be more careful around Uncle H, he wasn't as senile as I'd thought. 

And now for something lighter!

I just want to reassure you all that the weekend wasn't all about deep and dark painful beatings. Not at all. Actually there even more cheerful and light-hearted painful beatings too!

Like on Saturday morning. After much sleep I rose from a fine ten hours of deep sleep in a very good mood indeed. I hadn't intended to be mischievous at all but being condiment-ally challenged resulted in honey over the oak table, soon followed by me bare bottomed, over the oak table.

Forgetting it was HH dealing out the spanking I was semi-cheerfully answering back when the hand spanking got firmer and the voice got cross. It's not allowed to be so disrespectful during a spanking, no matter how light or sticky the situation.

Breakfast finally concluded without much further ado until some ridiculous declaration of innocence from Abel had all us girls howling in laughter. He wasn't too pleased to have us react so and over the table we all had to go, bottoms bared in a row; Catherine, Haron and I. And what a lively spanking ensued with a disgraceful amount of laughter and answering back.

After all that I found myself in a far more mischievous mood. I wanted trouble! But not for me, I still felt quite played out from the night before. But I was sure Catherine could handle a bit more beating. As Indy would say I then then threw her under a bus by remarking that she hadn't got that switching that was proposed, had she? Of course HH doesn't need much encouragement and duly fetched said switch as we all trooped upstairs to watch the show.

Now it's very unusual for me to witness someone playing and not want to join in, but this was such an occasion. I was very happy to watch as HH beat Catherine mercilessly with the switch. Happy to to watch her dance and wriggle away from him as he beat her more, to laugh as he chased her round the room still whacking away and to sigh as he eventually restrained her and whipped her til tiny bits of the switch scattered across the room and she was properly complaining.

Poor girl wasn't allowed be done with yet though. It was then Abel's turn with the dragon cane and the strokes rained down smartly until at least two dozen were delivered. Our girl was almost done. But I wasn't finished with my bus throwing.

Gently remarking that she hadn't nearly as much trouble as me on the wooden pony the night before I wondered how she might find it on the second time of asking? The love in her eyes for me at that moment was very special to behold. And when they had her strung up on the pony, with the board raised much higher than previously, I almost felt bad as she cried and pleaded for mercy. Almost.

It was a very floaty girl who was finally released into many waiting hugs.

Unfortunately we had to say bye to my lovely twin then, and alas the beatings were still not done. Haron was made to squeak as HH and Abel gently tortured her (as she recounts here) and I had yet more fun ahead of me.

That evening we had company to entertain and apparently I was part of the entertainment. Not only was I stripped down to my pretty gingham knickers in the garden, and nor was I just caned while standing on the pedestal in said garden, but I also had to demonstrate the wooden pony for said company as well as endure a harsh whipping with the two tailed whip at full force. Yes it was all very light indeed. Although I at least had the pleasure of watching lovely company being beaten too!

The weekend ended with the obligatory tawsing of a cranky Emma Jane out of bed, and just when I thought HH was growing out of that phase too...

The Jolliest Half-term!

Well dearest readers I hope you'll keep what follows to yourself. We wouldn't want the likes of Mr S or Rev J or any of the other Lowewood masters to find out what went on when Lowewood went wild in Dublin!

I was very excited to have Jessica, Sylvie, Rebecca and Beth visiting. Even more so I had blagged a free apartment for the weekend. If the teachers thought we were all staying with my parents what can I say, we may have misled them in some small way! It was an awful shame Jemima couldn't make it after all. Some excuse was made about having to supervise workmen but we can all guess that Jemima had even more fun lined up back home ;-)

Still we made a nice gang, very fetching in our brand new Lowewood Academy hoodies. We got many admiring looks and glances and endless questions about our school.

The weekend started in flying form as we each purchased several bottles of wine and spent Friday evening getting nicely tipsy and giggly. It was so lovely to catch up and be naughty without fear of being interrupted by the teachers.

Of course despite our high spirits we were up early the next day to get some of that culture we're always being told about. We saw some old book in Trinity College and spent ages in the gift shop trying to find naughty presents. And upon leaving we couldn't resist disobeying the sign and standing on the grass anyway!

In an effort to curry favour with Mr S we decided to visit the Georgian museum and see what life was like when he was a boy. It was very interesting but we couldn't find any canes or straps and even the governess didn't have as much as a hairbrush. We very kindly sent all the teachers a very polite postcard telling them how much we missed them (which wasn't very much at all!)

And one girl amongst us did a very naughty thing indeed but I can't possibly tell you what - let's just hope no-one ever finds out!

After a lovely lunch in a Church (chosen so we could truthfully tell Rev J we had been in one) we headed back to doll ourselves up for a night out.

It was a close call when we got to the pub and were asked for ID, perhaps the short school skirts and hoodies gave us away but luckily we managed to coax our way in. I was keen to introduce my fellow schoolmates to my local friends and they all got on famously.

The night ended with us partying the night away at Nimhneach. Truth be told I was flying high with the excitement of having everyone in my home club and danced and skipped about the place with gay abandon.

Unfortunately I manged to get myself into a fair amount of trouble over the course of the night. The teachers from my former school (It's for your own good) the beautiful Chalk and the evil Mr Dastardly weren't pleased that I'd been posting 'nudey' pictures on the t'internet. Along with the wonderful Officer Jizzle I was taught the error of my ways through a very harsh flogging. I meekly promised it would never happen again and was glad to finally be released.

Then Master Retep insisted on strapping me for some misdemeanour or other. As if that wasn't enough the London Tanner himself insisted on giving me a very painful rebate on the paddle I bought from him, half off has never been so unappealing!

My fellow schoolmates also managed to find themselves in trouble too and it was late in the night before we made our escape. All too soon the nexr day came and we treated ourselves to breakdfast at the aptly named Queen of Tarts, before I sadly had to let the girls leave.

But what a jolly trip it had been!

If you can't do the time...

Kami, HH and I were relaxing in the hot tub. The warm water was soothing very sore bottoms, And although Kami and I may have been a little over playful and maybe flapped around a bit too much or splashed HH once too often, we were quite well behaved, for us anyway!

When we were done Kami and I got out first, put on our robes and returned to the house. Then I got an impish idea. 'Wouldn't it be funny if we took his robe' I giggled to Kami, nodding at HH who was lying back with his eyes closed, enjoying 5 minutes peace. Giggling in return she agreed and we crept out and snatched his robe before racing back into the house.

Pausing to shut the door and hang the robe on the back of, we scampered upstairs and peered out the window. We watched HH slowly get out and shut up the hot tub. Hmmm we'd forgotten that part. He must have been a good 5 mins outside. And it was cold.

When he disappeared from view we waited in anxious silence until his familiar step could be heard on the stairs. Darting round the room but finding nowhere suitable to hide, we gave up and stood against the wall with our towels over our heads. (He did laugh on finding us like that, but not enough to let us off).

Kami was first. He likes to make me wait knowing it kills me. As he positioned her face down over the whipping bench he loftily asked me had I ever had a wet bottom strapping, to which I shook my head in terror. It suddenly wasn't funny anymore!

Wetting Kami's bottom he then aimed the tawse. A few practice strokes before it cracked down properly. I jumped at the noise and Kami's resulting scream. Again and again I watched it fall, feeling sick. This was a bad idea. A really bad idea. HH meant business.

But as he finished with Kami he informed her that we'd have been caned too if we'd actually locked the door, and brat that I am, all I could think was 'damm, we should have locked the door'.

I was quickly distracted from such thoughts by his order to get over the bench. Feeling the water on my bottom I flinched. As he raised the tawse he softly told me that it was true, wet bottom strappings did hurt a lot more. When the first stroke branded my poor bottom I had to agree. Yelping in shock I immediately sat up and clutched the hot welt. Before resignedly lying back down. I have no idea how many he gave me. All I can remember is a band of pain. It really, really hurt. And I did regret the joke. Why were we angering him?

At one point I felt like safewording and realised I couldn't, this wasn't a scene. I couldn't just end it. I believe in playing fair and HH is always clear on the rules. If you can't do the time, don't do the crime. (Of course I could really if it was too much for me, but if seemed like I couldn't).

Comparing notes with Kami later she admitted to having the same thoughts. Whether we were consciously doing this or not is hard to know. But it truly felt like a punishment spanking. And the hugs and forgiveness afterwards were even more gratifying.

Here I go again!

I'm off again people for another weekend of play. The kinky suitcase is packed. I'm suitably apprehensive and more than a lil bit excited. Playing with HH so far has been a wonderful and usually intense experience. The scenes flow as we play against each other and I simply have no idea how I'll react. That's what makes playing with him so great. He surprises me and derails me at every turn.

But I'm extra excited this time cos I shall not be facing HH alone. I will have back up. The incorrigible Kami Robertson will also be there. I'm thrilled to think of how much trouble we'll get into. Cos Kami brings out the brat in even the most well-behaved girl. The last time we hung out we got strapped by Juliet for fighting, caned by Abel for having a water fight and severely tawsed by HH for misbehaving while out to dinner!

Still I wonder if a whole weekend of us is too much for even HH. One of us brats on her own is bad enough, but two of us plotting together can be ten times the trouble!

Anyone care to bet on the outcome? Emma Jane in tears? Kami in tears? Or HH having a nervous breakdown?!

And no, I'm not going to ask any of you to contribute to the scenes or the number of strokes. I learned that lesson the hard way!

Stir, stir, stir

Most of the time I'm a nice girl. A good friend, empathetic and sympathetic. But sometimes I like to stir it up and get other people into trouble. Especially when I'm not there. Getting a comrade into trouble is almost like playing vicariously. And the brat in me loves it!

Such as ringing Sylvie's phone during class at Lowewood so Mr Basford strapped her for having it on.

Or like trying to get Eliane a few extra spanks for her birthday by asking everyone to give her hugs and spanks from me. And then trying to get her into more trouble afterwards by insinuating that Abel's birthday caning, delegated to Sylvie, wasn't as hard as it should have been.

And then there's the chance to get my own back on Kami for all the times she's wronged me. Like that time she begged HH to hairbrush me just to see how long I'd stay still for. So in return, knowing she hated his slipper, I asked him to give her 10 hard strokes of it from me. Which he duly did.

But even more gratifying was getting revenge for her 8 comments on the Over to you post. I innocently suggested that Abel should give her 8 strokes of 6 similar implements. Only fair right? But was it wrong to tease her about it, then tell Abel they weren't hard enough and get her punished again. Too far?

Is it very mean of me to enjoy getting others into trouble or is it just natural? Thing is, while I'm quite delighted at the thoughts of getting them punished, having to witness said punishment is another story. I've cried watching Eliane and Kami getting it in joint scenes and would have done anything to stop it. Oh the irony of it all!

Still I do like to stir it up now and then...

More justice for knickers!

Well it seems at least one top took heed of my Justice for Knickers campaign. In fact Abel is now so understanding about how precious girls are about their pretty knickers, that he's determined to return this lovely pair to their owner.



Of course I'm a little bit baffled as to how anybody could leave them behind in the first place; they're so yummy!

Nobody has claimed them yet, but in true girly style many of the commentators have admired them and Eliane even wants to go off and get a matching pair.

So if they're yours drop Abel a mail and reclaim them. I dare ya!

Justice for knickers!

I'm certain I have an underwear fetish. And what's more I don't believe I'm alone in this. Most of (all?) my kinky girl friends seem to have one too. Adele and Eliane and Niki have all posted at some stage about the numbers of knickers they possess. I'm tempted to follow suit and count mine too but I'm too lazy so let's just say they don't all fit in one large drawer and hardly a week goes by where I don't buy a pair or three.

Then Haron posted recently about favorite types of knickers for getting spanked in. Mine are certainly white cotton and most days just even wearing white cotton or white lacey knickers is a turn on for me. Probably because I mostly get spanked in such knickers, which then makes me associate being turned on by them all the more and then makes me want to be spanked in them. Hmmm it's all a bit of a chicken vs the egg scenario really and I've no idea which came first.

So anyway it's lovely being able to chat to girl friends about the latest knicker acquisition and to admire oneself posing in the mirror or dancing around wiggling one's bottom enjoying the thrill
of new knickerrs.

But to my dismay the toppy types I know don't seem to have the same appreciation for such things. Knickers are far too often whisked down without so much as a grudging compliment or a lingering rub of soft lace or delicate silk. Even cheeky messages on such knickers, agonisingly chosen for their needling ability are mostly ignored. And poor knickers spend most of the time around knees or even worse hanging off feet. It's really no way to treat such beautiful and sexy items. If I wasn't so busy suffering at the time I'd make my feelings on the matter known.

And to add insult to injury, one toppy friend laughed when I said I'd bought some new undies especially for our next playdate. 'What's the point, it's not like I'm going to let you wear them' he mocked. Cue much huffing and puffing from me and threats to turn up in just a fur coat and no knickers! (Except I wouldn't ever wear fur and he'd probably like that more anyway.)

So to combat this knicker vendetta from toppy types I'm suggesting a sleepover for all my kinky girly friends where we'll just sit around in our yummy knickers and bras and such and admire each other all night. We'll even try out the most suitable bending over angles that show of said knickers to best advantage. And it goes without saying there'll be unlimited changing of knickers with various hands helping in the removal and adjustment of such. There might even be an occasional gentle pat on the bottom, over knickers of course. And there'll be no toppy types allowed in to ruin the fun by making us take them off.

There, that'll teach 'em!