The legacy of St Patrick

Patrick arrived in Ireland, captured as a slave, and was made to tend sheep high on the hills of Antrim. He was often cold and hungry and displeased with his lot in life. Then one night he had a vision of what life could be like and determined to change his destiny.

It was not for him to take orders especially from the shepherd's wife. Acting on his vision he turned her over his knee and gave her a sound spanking until she agreed to free him.

Pleased with this outcome Patrick decided to convert the rest of the land to his way of thinking. Picking up a long crooked handled cane off he went about the land preaching his message of order and obedience and consequences.


He had more than one way to explain to the men how to subdue their womenfolk. In one much lauded incident he picked up some shamrock and used each of the three leaves to show the rituals that come together to make a spanking effective: the bare bottomed girl, the positioning over lap or furniture and the implement of choice.

Of course it was his practical demonstrations, or miracles as they became known, that were of most interest. Such ways made men eager to follow him and practice what he preached. Any young maiden who disagreed with his teachings was put across his lap and his hard hand applied to her bare bottom until she listened to reason.

Or in the case of a particularly rebellious girl, often ones with flaming red hair and tempers to match, over a rock she would be held, to feel the burning pain of his cane.

So successful was Patrick that he was decreed a saint and a special day given over to his memory. One in which girls are given every opportunity to be naughty and give their menfolk the slightest excuse to punish them. Such is the popularity of this day, it is celebrated the world over and many a young lady gets the spanking she deserves.

Happy St Patrick's Day!

Self-discpline

A couple of weeks back I offered to help a friend out by reviewing a document she had written. I like being helpful and the document was of the type my real life persona would be very interested in reading, so it was no chore at all.

But as eager as I am to help out a friend I can be a bit of a procrastinator and weeks passed before she gave me a gentle reminder to look at it. So we agreed I needed a deadline which just so happened to fall today. And this morning she cheekily threatened to report me to Headmaster Higgins if I missed the deadline!

Well Headmaster Higgins is very scary at the best of times, but getting punished for real life misbehaviour is always way harder than for scene related crimes so I wasn't eager to get into trouble for that reason. Therefore this afternoon I duly sat myself down to do my assignment. To motivate myself further I decided to wear my new school skirt, acquired just yesterday. (It's a fabulous blue and black plaid one and I love it!)

So in full uniform, right down to regulation white knickers and a very tight collar I sat myself down and tried to focus on my task.Then shifted restlessly in my hard chair and tried once more. Until finally I put my head down and got to work.

Once I was done I sent it off to her, changed out of my uniform and then went out to play (well out for coffee with a friend!) completely carefree. I think that's the first time I've ever been happy to actually avoid a punishment!

(III) You know you're a pervert when...

You know you're a pervert when you constantly pervert reality.

Like last week when I was driving to work. I passed a group of very neatly dressed school children being marched along the pavement. All about 16 or 17 the boys were smartly attired in navy slacks, blue shirt, navy blazer and striped ties.The girls wore matching uniforms, with skirts down well below their knees. They were being marshaled along by a couple of teachers, who all happened to be older gentlemen.

One of the gentlemen stood at the pedestrian crossing ushering the students across quickly before the lights changed and I realised they were heading to a nearby church. The gentleman was quite distinguished and very imposing as he heralded the students across the road, at one stage holding his hand up imperiously to halt the traffic. (He was lucky not to be run over, tis a brave man that gets in the way of Dublin rush hour!). I determined this man to be the Headmaster.

As I was waiting for the lights to change I noticed a few stragglers accompanied by another teacher, arriving at the now red lights. The Headmaster did not seem pleased.

While I couldn't hear what he was saying, I was imagining the other teacher explaining he had found the girls trying to slip off on their own. There'd be a lecture of course and 3 shame faced girls would dash into the back of the church just as mass began knowing a trip to the Headmaster's study, and no doubt 6 of the best, would await them back at school.

Spank her here, spank her there, spank her everywhere

You'll be glad to hear that the big move is over, I'm all done. You won't have to listen to me go on about it anymore (thank fecks says you!).

Anyway I'm sitting here in my new house and seeing it through kinky eyes for the first time.

The sofa is perfect for getting strapped on. I can imagine being placed over the wide arm of it with my bottom high in the air and my head buried deep in the cushions. Or lying across the front of it over some toppy types knee. Or tipped across the back of it for a paddling. I could go on; it's a very versatile piece of furniture!

I can also see myself stretched across the dining room table for a caning. Or maybe I'd have to get up on my tiptoes to lean across the high backed chair. That would really pull my skin tight. Then there's the counter in the kitchen, the one with all the wooden utensils so handily placed atop.

The bath is also nice and wide. Lots of space for a girl to have a forced shower (cold no doubt) and inspection.

And then there's my new bedroom and its endless possibilities. Including the ottoman I bought with the exact intention of using is as a whipping bench. Its soft cushioned top will provide some comfort when I'm lying on it being thrashed. Or I could be made to kneel on it with my hands on the floor to present myself for whatever else the toppy type might do to me...

Yes a new house is full of so many opportunities for spankings!

Pictoral representation of kink

Below is a diagram that a potential supplier presented at his pitch a few weeks back. He was a consultant type charged with measuring the degree to which people liked and engaged with our brand.

How it works is that you ask a series of questions which you then plot onto the graph below to ascertain a customer's relationship with your brand. So he could tell us to what degree our customers were aroused i.e. engaged with us and where the points of pleasure and pain were.



Or something along those lines, I was too busy mapping myself onto the graph to hear what he was saying. I don't know how effective it will be as a marketing tool but it sure summed up my relationship to kink.

Dominated through humiliation and distress, to the point of arousal. Which then turns to powerful pleasure culminating in feelings of satisfaction, comfort and protectedness. All of which results in awe, fascination and infatuation with the kink.

Lashes anyone?

If I'm in Dublin for the weekend, my absolute favourite thing to do on a Saturday is to wander around town. Doing so on my own is quite lovely but hanging out with a close friend or a motley crew of random friends and acquaintances is even better. We stroll around our favourite haunts such as Dublin's best kept secret (it's the most wonderful bar and no I'm not telling you where it is but if you come visit I'll take you there), the Temple Bar Food Market, George's Arcade and a host of other cool places.

So yesterday was no exception and I found myself with a gang of lovely vanillas having a very late lunch that then turned into afternoon tea (as in it was afternoon and there was tea, no cucumber sandwiches anywhere).

Nothing remarkable or kinky about that I hear you say. And indeed there wasn't, except we were in a cafe I hadn't been to before and looking out the window I could see the following shop sign:


Oh what I would have given for a kinky friend to nudge and giggle with! Various thoughts of being bold enough to wander in, ever so innocently, and asking what sort of lashes they offered ran through my mind. Floggers, cat o' nine tails, martinets? Did they have any specials? Ask for 50 lashes and get 20 bonus ones, or sign up for 10 sessions and get the last one free.

I peeped in when we passed it later and was very disppointed to discover it was just another beauty salon with not a top nor flogger to be seen. But I love the fact that no matter how vanilla the company is, my mind is never far way from a kinky thought. It makes me very, very happy!

(I) You know you're a pervert when...

You know you're a pervert when you're sorry the school year is over cos you're losing a perving opportunity. No, I'm not perving on the girls themselves, but what they're wearing. The pleasure of enjoying all the different uniforms...

Kilts, skirts or pinafores (or God forbid trousers), whether pleated, straight, long or short. Jumpers or blazers. Uniforms in blue, navy, green, grey, maroon; so many colours. Plain, plaid or stripey ties. Tights, knee high socks or ankle socks.

It's like a continuous fashion parade!

'Yes I'll have that maroon pleated shirt with the white short-sleeved blouse and the white knee socks, but I'll swap the maroon jumper for a maroon blazer and the brown shoes for black Mary Janes.'

The day I saw a a pink uniform I had to resist the urge to grab the girl and ask for her uniform stockist. (Dark pink skirt, pink and white striped blouse and a pale pink jumper!!)

Alas now all this perving will end for three months. However, I shall console myself with the exciting thought that the shops will soon be full of uniforms that I can go in and buy. It'll be feast time, not just having to rely on ebay to bring me shirts and skirts in the wrong sizes! Oh how much fun I'll have stocking up.

And of course I'll truly feel like a pervert when I go in to buy them!

Kinky Holidays

Rebecca posted recently about a 'gap in the market' she's noticed. Having just been to a nice spa she suggested they should develop their treatment lists to fully cater for us kinky types by offering 'sound canings' and 'over the knee spankings' etc.

Fortunately I've discovered that hotels aren't as remiss in this area!

Take this place in South Australia, a restored jail house it'd be perfect for locking up bad girls.



Or this place in Berlin, excellent for abusing several girls at once.



Or my favorite, this one in Slovenia. Wouldn't it be perfect for a reformatory roleplay? If you were particularly bad you'd be handcuffed to the bars outside the cell. Then you'd be at the mercy of every passing guard who could do whatever he wanted to you...



So who's coming to Slovenia with me?!