Sunday, May 31

Just like a woman

"She takes just like a woman, yes, she does
She makes love just like a woman, yes, she does
And she aches just like a woman
But she breaks just like a little girl."

Bob Dylan (1966)

These lyrics from 'Just Like a Woman' define my desires so exactly that it scares me. Sometimes I like to think that Bob Dylan wrote this song with women like me in mind. And when I finally went to see him and he sang this song the fantastical part of me believed he was singing it to me as a reward for finally setting my kink free.

"She takes just like a woman"

I am a woman, a grown-up, an adult. I have a career and responsibilities. I may fantasise about regressing to a school girl or a small child or a young teen but that's not how I want to live my life. In a scene that I chose to partake in I love to be dominated, controlled and disciplined, but not in my real life.

I am an equal partner in life and you have to earn my trust and loyalty. I will take from friendships and relationships just like any woman would. I will give in return. I am not a dependent being.

"She makes love just like a woman"

I may fantasise about being taken advantage of and being abused. We may play a scene where I'm forced to partake in sexual acts, in the context of not consenting and not enjoying what is happening to me. But I have given my consent as a woman and I will enjoy it.

"And she aches just like a woman"

You will hurt me and cause me pain, with your canes and your straps and your whips. I will take as much as I can bear and be pushed to my limits. I will ache knowing this is what I want, what I've asked for, what I need.

"But she breaks just like a little girl"

And sometimes you will break me. I will cry in your arms and let everything around me disappear. You will have brought me to that place that I crave so badly. I will break just like a little girl but will emerge again, just like a woman...

Saturday, May 30

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?!

Friday, May 29

Introducing Caoilfhionn

I've been invited to my first proper school roleplay day; lucky me! Sure I've done many school scenes, either one-to-one with a Headmaster or Housemaster or a class with one other girl, but I've never done a full day of school with separate lessons, multiple teachers and several girls. So I'm tremendously excited about my first day at Lowewood Academy (if you're interested in school stories and fantastic writing check out the blog here).

In advance of my introduction to Lowewood, I had to create my schoolgirl persona and I gave much thought to her development. I didn't want to be a particularly naughty girl, but rather a well-meaning one, who's exuberance naturally led her into trouble. And as an Irish girl myself, I wanted her to be distinctly Irish.

So let me introduce Caoilfhionn Ni BrĂ¡daigh. Her character description is below. Do let me know what you think of her and how you think I can best play her :) And I'll be sure to report back how she gets on at Lowewood!

From a large Irish family in the west of Ireland, Caoilfhionn is the youngest of six children and the only girl. Used to fighting her corner from a young age she’s fiercely competitive and very argumentative.

No stranger to corporal punishment she currently attends St. Mary’s Convent School for girls, infamous throughout Ireland for its strict discipline routine. However, now that all her older siblings are working or at college, her parents are looking for a quiet life in their retirement years and have decided to ship her off to boarding school. Lowewood Academy was chosen both for its strict discipline ethos and the fact pupils cannot go home at weekends.

Although a clever girl academically, she has no artistic or musical talent whatsoever and is very frustrated by her shortcomings in this area. She has bundles of energy and enthusiasm and can be exhausting to be around. She is easily bored and although always well meaning, she lacks discipline and self control and often ends up in very unfortunate situations.

To ensure that her Catholic education does not suffer, her parents have arranged for Fr. Murphy to visit her weekly at Lowewood and for her to attend his weekly services in the local village.

She's a keen sports woman and has been heavily involved in all sports from a young age; the more aggressive the better, with Gaelic Football and Rugby being her particular favourites. An easily adaptable girl she has no qualms about being sent to Lowewood and sees it all as a big adventure.

Wednesday, May 27

Sweet little lies

Yesterday I blogged about the difficulties of keeping my kinky lifestyle a secret from my vanilla friends. One of the biggest problems is trying to fit kinky events such as play weekends or club nights into the vanilla calendar and then tying to come up with a plausible excuse for missing such and such's birthday night out or not making that family dinner etc.

And as my friends are used to knowing every detail of my week I usually have to come up with some description of where I was or what I was at. Not helped by living with two of my friends!

It can be exhausting coming up with the stories and trying to remember what I've told to whom. Luckily for me I'm a fantastic liar when circumstances require. I really shouldn't be so proud of it, but it's come in so useful lately.

I'm one of those liars who believes in details, no vague "I'm off to visit an old friend, you wouldn't know them" for me; I have backgrounds, plots and characters! And my friend in the know is very useful for an alibi for club nights, always coming up with a band that we've been to see, where they played and how good they were!

I've even managed to create a fictional boyfriend living abroad to explain my increasingly frequent trips away. This also comes in useful for getting out of their matchmaking attempts with 'eligible' types. (Hmmm can he use a cane? No? Sorry not eligible then.)

He's actually based on one of my kinky Irish friends here who happens to live in Europe at the minute, and he knows that I'm shamelessly using him. I'm thinking of moving him from Europe to London though as that's where my travels are taking me lately.

Unfortunately the story has been going on so long that my friends think we are a serious item at the minute and want to meet him! So I'll probably have to be dumped which will then give me an excuse for 'staying in' and not being interested in any men at all, at least for a few weeks. But how shall I do it? Girlfriend on the side? Actually gay?

Or I could just tell the truth, he's a pervert interested in putting me across his knee and spanking my bare bottom. Hmmmm, that could just work....

You can't handle the truth

I'm a very lucky girl in lots of ways, but in terms of my circle of friends I consider myself extremely lucky. Over the years I have met some wonderful people and developed several deep and close relationships. Most of my vanilla friends I've known for 10 years or more and they've been around for every step in my life; supporting me and picking me up when I needed it and making the good times great.

And since getting into this scene I've met some equally wonderful people that already are, or I know will become, very close friends. People who I can be myself with 100%, but still share my values.

So I'm a very lucky girl, but I'm finding it very hard to reconcile the two worlds.

Only one of my vanilla friends knows about my kink. I mainly told her because I need someone to know where I am at the weekends, or when I go on play dates. I knew she would would keep an open mind and not be judgemental. She never tries to understand why I'm into this but is completely supportive. But most importantly she's not upset about knowing.

Usually I tell my vanilla friends everything and bring them all together for my traumas and celebrations. So I'm finding it very hard to shut them out now. Especially as this is such an exciting time for me. Finally releasing that part of me that was pent up for so long. Having the most amazing experiences and meeting such great people. I want to shout about it from the rooftops!

Having to be uber careful about what I tell them and tying myself up in knots with excuses is becoming very stressful. Not to mind trying to fit in all the vanilla and kinky events and people into my schedule!

I'm hoping to gradually tell some of them over time, but only when I think they're ready. Not because I'm concerned about how they'll react to me, but worried about giving them the burden of knowing something about me that they're not comfortable with knowing, or would cause them undue stress. Like having to fake interest in what I'm getting up to, or pretending to understand, or even trying to cure me. Let alone worrying unnecessarily about where I was and what I was doing.

I'd hate to cause anyone around me any discomfort or unease, least of all my best friends. So for now I'll make it work and hope the day comes around soon when I'm sure they can handle the truth!

Tuesday, May 26

Struggling with reality

"An emotionally abusive institution. Girls were humiliated and belittled on a regular basis"

Sounds like the brochure for a reformatory roleplay my friends are planning.

"CP was often administered in front of other girls and staff members. The use of denigrating and humiliating language was commonplace"

Sounds like the type of scene I've been fantasising about all my life.

"Physical punishment was severe, excessive and pervasive"

Sounds like a description of my latest play weekend.

But these aren't fantasies. They're the disturbing reality of a childhood experienced by thousands of Irish people.

The Ryan report into child abuse in Irish State Institutions, chiefly run by religious orders, has just been published. It details the endemic abuse that was widespread from the 1930's to the early 70's.

Over 200 institutions, including industrial schools, institutions for children with disabilities and ordinary day schools, have been found to have allowed the systemic physical, emotional and sexual abuse of children to take place. Incidences of neglect and abuse were the norm, not the exception. The perpetrators were chiefly Catholic priests, brothers and nuns.

Like many Irish people I have been shocked by the horrific details. The fact that it's so recent in our history somehow makes it worse. This happened to my generation's parents and grandparents. So many were affected that it's certain I know someone who experienced it.

Our newspapers and current affairs programmes are filled with outrage and disgust. Normal everyday people are struggling with their religious faith. Feeling sick that the Catholic Church knew about the abuse and covered it up, That the state were too afraid to challenge the Church. That the ISPCC took children from their families and placed them in the care of these institutions.

And I'm struggling with my kink. How can I fantasise about something that was a horrible reality for so many innocent children? How can I get off on being humiliated and physically hurt? How can I act out my fantasies of being punished and abused by priests and teachers?

I know I'm a consenting adult, playing out a scene that I have asked for. I know I have a safeword to stop at any time. I know that when I'm brought to that level of desolation and helplessness and completely broken my play partner will hold me and comfort me and restore me.

I know I'm not being abused but why do I crave these feelings? Has my life just been too easy? Have I taken my relatively happy childhood for granted? Perhaps if I had more turmoil and pain growing up I wouldn't need to act out these scenes?

Deep down I know that I'm not doing anything wrong, but right now I can understand why vanillas struggle with what we do; I'm struggling with it myself.

Monday, May 25

Emotional Pain

Over the weekend I was privileged to play with many wonderful and experienced people in the CP scene. And I had several opportunities to play hard, each scene taking my breath away with the harsh implements, wicked strokes and determined tops.

Some people consider me to be a relatively hard player. I'm not sure how accurate that is, but I know I can take a hard thrashing if needs be and that pain alone doesn't make me cry. So when I found myself on the verge of tears on several occasions over the weekend, up to that one scene where I finally shed them, it wasn't the pain of the (severe) thrashing that made me cry. It was the intense emotions that were created and are testament to the wonderful people I played with.

From the opening scene where I was humiliated to the core: a schoolgirl made to strip naked in front of her Headmaster and his guest before being spanked and caned. Yet the tears came not from their harsh treatment, but the small mercy of not having to put back on the tie that I couldn't quite arrange with my shaking hands.

Or the scene that Eliane describes on her blog. Not only did I earn us 4 extra strokes but my cowardly silence let her go first to face the Housemaster's wrath. Listening to her whimpers was much worse than suffering my own painful strokes and as we hugged afterwards I felt wonderfully connected to her.

But the scene that was my undoing came at the end of a long day of play. Another fellow brat (I was in good company!) and I had misbehaved deplorably while out at dinner and knew well we'd pay for it.

Being marched upstairs and lectured was bad enough, especially as it was no role play; we had been particularly naughty. But the terror of having to line up and hold out our hands for the tawse almost made me run away. Only the courage of my partner in crime taking hers made me try to be equally brave.

Then onto the bed, side by side and bottoms bared we braced ourselves for the wicked tawse. My turn first, taking 6, doing my best to stay still as it seared down on my bottom, tears pricking at my eyes at the helplessness of our situation. But as bad as the first onslaught felt, it was infinitely worse to hear my playmate get hers. Every hard stroke and her corresponding yelp tore me up inside and I buried my head in the mattress, trying to block it all out.

I was almost relieved when my turn for another 6 came around again. Determined to keep her distress to a minimum I didn't make a sound, didn't flinch a muscle. However, as he raised the tawse over her again I finally broke down and sobbed the whole way through her 6. He threatened to give me her remaining strokes if she didn't stay still and listening to her begging to give them to her, not me, made me cry all the more.

I continued to cry all through my final 6 and when she rubbed my leg to comfort me, I almost lost it completely, broken by the intensity of what was happening. As he dealt out her final strokes I swore I'd never get her into trouble again, that I'd protect her from anyone who'd ever try to hurt her. When we were finally permitted to get up we clung to each other for many minutes, before being enveloped in a much needed and comforting hug from our tormentor.

A very intense and liberating scene, ending a wonderfully intense and liberating day.

Sunday, May 24

To switch or not to switch?

Eliane posted a while ago about switching and wondered would she ever switch from bottom to top. It reminded me of similar thoughts I'd had on that subject and the first time I ever topped anyone. At the time I posted about it on Fetlife and have reposted below. I was a little confused, as I had always thought myself to be 100% bottom and couldn't believe how much I'd enjoyed my first taste if topping!

I was advised not to concern myself too much with ill fitting labels, but to keep an open mind and not be afraid to experiment. It's an approach I've continued to take and it would be my one piece of advice to others starting out: if it feels right, then it is right.

While playing with some like-minded spanking friends over the weekend something strange happened. I don't mean the usual high jinks and all sorts we get up to when we play, but something strange for me.

Although I'm relatively new in the scene I have played in private for years, always as a bottom or sub. And even going back to my earliest 'spanking' related memories or associations, I've always been interested and gravitated towards the role of bottom/sub. I have never once fantasised about Topping or Dominating anyone. I like being spanked, disciplined and controlled. And in my usual introductions with new kinksters I announce firmly that I'm 100% bottom/sub and happy (almost relieved even) that I'm not a switch. For me it seems so complicated, working out when to Top and when to bottom and when to switch over!

But at the weekend while playing with another female bottom and a male switch I gave my first ever spanking; well two spankings actually!

Not quite sure how it came about but all of a sudden I had this very nice tall man over my knee. And even though I'm quite small (5 foot nothing!) and was wearing the cutest little schoolgirl's uniform, it all felt very natural to have him there and arrange him into a suitable position, all the while assuming a strict tone of voice.

And delivering crisp, firm smacks with my hand felt right, as did ordering him to call me mistress and scold him as I spanked. As I put him through the various implements (leather paddle, wooden spoon and hairbrush for those of you who like detail)I found I quite liked this new view from the Top!

It was actually quite enjoyable to create these feelings of pain and pleasure for someone else, to choose the precise area to smack, changing the rhythm and speed, deciding how hard or soft to land them, noting his reactions, drawing out whimpers and yelps, and then pausing every so often to rub his bottom gently and admire this new view.

And then to repeat it all again with a fellow bottom who I usually can't watch being spanked cos I feel her pain too much.

Have I just become a switch? Or is this a newbie rite of passage ;)

Saturday, May 23


Kami Robertson posted on her blog recently about a scene she played that culminated as follows: "(he) was strapping my legs, my whole body was shaking and my mind was flying". At the time of reading it, I was slightly envious at being able to get to such a place.

I'm a headspace player and the deeper I get into headspace the more the scene works for me. Pain is not my thing, it's a by-product of what I do, so I wondered would I ever fly?

Shortly after that I got my answer.

At our monthly BDSM club I generally play a lot, usually with a few regular play partners. Most often we play CP or OTK scenes but occasionally I like to play more BDSM style; being restrained and flogged.

My friend C had long been promising to flog me, but we never seemed to get around to it. Finally an opportunity came when we were both free and ready to play. With much excitement, and some trepidation, I followed him to the frame and allowed him to prepare me for what was to come.

My arms were cuffed above my head, legs spread apart, skirt up and head bowed forward. He started by holding me taut with his hand across my mouth: telling me what he was going to do to me; how much it was going to hurt; that I wasn't going anywhere; how much I deserved it. All the time speaking softly; getting into my head.

When he started it was slow and soft; sweeping the flogger across my front, back, bottom, thighs, and around my legs. I held my breath waiting for it to intensify, testing the restraints, tying to second guess his movements - to no avail.

He continually altered the rhythm: high then low, soft then hard, quick then slow and then bursts of hard and quick. After absorbing the first hard lashes I began to relax into it. I strained forward with my arms stretched taut behind me, legs spread apart, body perfectly still, head bowed, not moving a muscle.

As the flogging got more intense everything faded out: the people, the music, the restraints. I was soaring away from the scene, riding the pain and watching myself from afar. I was flying; it was amazing.

Eventually he brought me back down, talking to me again and making me count the last 10 excruciatingly hard lashes. And afterwards he held me as I overflowed with the adrenalin of it all.

Friday, May 22

Getting your kink on

Those of us not in relationships, or living with our spanking partners, don't have the pleasure of playing whenever we feel like it (cue violins!). We have our fun too, but it usually turns out to be of the organised variety. We make play dates with our friends and perhaps attend spanking parties or BDSM clubs. There's no room for spontaneity, especially when your play partners are all over the place.

This isn't a complaint just a simple fact, but it leads me to my point, when a play date is on the horizon I have to get my kink on!

Partly it's because I don't want to let the other person (or people) down by not being in the mood to play. And greedily, I don't want to miss out on the opportunity either. Still being relatively new to the scene, the memories of a non-spanking existence are way too close.

But also because, so far, the pure escapism of what we do always makes me feel better. Whether it's a fun roleplay with friends or an intense emotional scene, everything floats away and I'm reinvigorated.

So no matter what's going on with my vanilla world or my internal psyche or how little sleep I've had, or how many drinks the night before, I just get my kink on and go for it: it hasn't disappointed me yet.

Thursday, May 21

Shy, moi?

I wouldn't describe myself as a shy person. If you've met me you wouldn't describe me as a shy person either! And generally I'm not, I love being around people and making new friends.

But I also have the philosophy of 'fake it til you make it'. So for those rare occasions where I am shy or nervous, I act like I'm not.

Mostly this comes in very useful for my job, but also I've discovered it's invaluable as a newbie in the kinky scene. Like when I made that initial (brief) visit to my new friends, knowing I was going to be spanked for the first time in years and then making that second (longer) visit for a whole weekend of play.

Or for my first BDSM club night, dressed as a schoolgirl and meeting all these people who already knew each other. Then doing my first public scene: spanked OTK, strapped and caned in front of so many strangers.

But really it was going to London, to meet 14 other spankos I had never met before, where it really served me well. I had been emailing one of them on and off for a few weeks and another I started chatting to just a week beforehand. But I'd never met any of them before.

So when I arrived in the hotel to meet the first 3, the ones I was staying with, I spent a few nervous moments downstairs plucking up the courage to go up to them. When I finally met them I appeared like I wasn't nervous at all, greeting and chatting away as if I'd known them all my life. And later when I met the other 11 people I was pretty much the same. On the outside laughing and chatting while on the inside trying not to succumb to the urge to run away!

Although really I was having too much fun to do that. And later when EmmaJane the brat came out she took over completely. She managed to get herself into all sorts of trouble goaded on by persons who shall remain nameless, isn't that right Eliane?

So much so that by the time we were on our way back to the hotel my nerves were of a different kind, knowing a spanking and possibly a caning were in store, (which duly took place!).

I guess I'm lucky because either way, whether I'm feeling shy or not, I don't let it affect me and it seems to put other people at ease meeting me. So this weekend when I'm making another trip to meet friends, both old and new, I know I'll be ok.

I'm just a lil bit nervous about what they are going to do to this poor little innocent Irish girl...

Wednesday, May 20


For lots of people escapism comes in many forms, through drink, a social occasion, a TV programme, a sport, a hobby, whatever. But for me escapism has always been as easy as retreating into my own head. Even better, I can do it anywhere: on the bus, in a boring meeting, at the supermarket. I can happily let my mind wander off for hours.

As an only child for years, who lived in the middle of nowhere, my imagination provided all the friends and entertainment I needed. When I had nothing new to read I'd make up own stories: sometimes brand new, sometimes sequels to stories I'd read.

Even when I was too young to realise what I was into, my stories had a distinct theme. The early ones had no CP in them, but lots of rules and people being very disappointed in you if you let them down. Playing my fictional characters in my head I often felt ashamed and sorrowful. Sometimes I'd make myself feel so bad that I'd cry. Even then, I craved that feeling of desolation.

It wasn't until much older that I started introducing punishment into these fantasises, and it wasn't always me being punished. I was just thrilled by the whole idea of discipline and punishment.

Now I'm lucky enough that my escapism extends to acting out these fantasies: being brought to the point of desolation for real, getting punished for real. But sometimes my own head is still my favorite place to be and I know whatever else happens in this scene I can always retreat there: infinite escapism.

Tuesday, May 19

Ill Disciplined Sleep

I have a love/hate relationship with sleep. I can go for weeks in a nice normal sleep routine. You know: go to bed, sleep, wake up refreshed. Weeks where I can spend whole Saturdays in bed dozing!

Then there are weeks of little or no sleep: lying awake for hours, tossing and turning and swearing out loud, generally falling into a coma just before the alarm. And no, hot milk, or lavender or whatever else you're going to suggest, doesn't work for me! I know that it's all in my head; if I can't de-stress my mind I can't sleep.

I need to totally switch off and not think about that presentation, that early start, that girls night out, that exercise class, that terrible meeting at work today, that person who was so unhelpful and so on and so on. And the more tired I am the harder it is to do; a vicious circle if there ever was one!

And this being kinky business doesn't help at all. I'm way too easily distracted on the net at night, reading just one more entry in a blog I've discovered, or writing just one more email. Nor is having instant email updates on my phone a good thing either. On more occasions than is healthy, I find myself waking up in the middle of the night and reading my emails, sometimes even replying to them. Like this morning where I found myself in a three way email conversation at 6am: I didn't have to be up for another 3 hours!

Far too often I'm unable (and unwilling) to switch my kinky brain off, encouraging it to wander over a story I've just read, a scene I'd like to do, people I'd like to play with. Great fun, but plays havoc with my sleep patterns!

I've often wondered if I was in a DD relationship would rules around bed-time help with this? But I suspect not. Sure I'd go to bed at a reasonable time, put the books and laptop away and turn out the light, perfectly obediently. Except I couldn't turn my mind off; it's more ill disciplined than the rest of me.

Monday, May 18

A Painful Awakening

I spent all of 5 minutes coming up with a name for this blog. As is the way with most things with me, I decided on impulse to create it and once I make my mind up, I'm all action. So a name was needed quickly.

Apart from the fact most great kinky blog names are taken, which left me with limited options, 'a painful awakening' floated into my mind all by itself. It's exactly how I'd describe my kinky journey: from ignorance to denial to acceptance.

The more I read and talk to fellow kinksters it seems to be a similar journey. We all have those initial feelings as an innocent child; you don't know what they mean but you quickly learn it's best not to share them. You enjoy the thrill of coming across punishment and discipline in books and films.

Many happy hours are spent day-dreaming of a world with rules and punishments. As you develop sexually you realise these thoughts are very powerful and can result in great pleasure. Your friends fantasise about kissing George Clooney, you fantasise about being put over his knee and spanked. Periods of shame and self-loathing, always followed by a determination to cure yourself of this sickness.

The first attempt at self-spanking, culminating in more self-loathing and another resolution to get over this thing. Denial that this is important. That first furtive attempt to hint at your needs to a vanilla partner and not quite succeeding. More denial and self loathing. Discovering the Internet and a world you feel you'll never be apart of. Sense of loss for something you've never had.

Emotionally painful.

To finally plucking up the courage and reaching out; connecting with the world you've been coveting from afar. Discovering who you really are. Making new friends, going to new places and hiding it all from your closest friends and family.

Confusingly painful.

To moving out of your comfort zone: new scenes, new implements, harder strokes, new partners.

Physically painful.

To feeling free and comfortable in your own skin, to feeling accepted: for the first time.


All about me

Well there's really enough information about me in the side bar, including '10 things you should know about me'. Do let me know if there's anything else you want to know and I might be kind and respond.

What I really mean is that this blog is all about me; selfishly so. I'll only blog when I feel like it; so no daily update I'm afraid. In particular you'll hear from me when I'm trying to make sense of something that's wandering around my head: a common occurrence since I embraced this kinky life.

No doubt there'll be feasts and famines as the mood takes me. Hopefully there'll be some posts of interest to you, but I forsee just as many that are just for me.

If you stick around, I hope it's worth your while!