Tuesday, September 28

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. 

Monday, September 27

A small, small girl in a big, big world

Check out Pandora’s blog for a great post on whether play makes us feel small and young, or bolder and grown-up. The post and the twitter conversation that inspired it, came from me tweeting that a caning from HH had made me realise that despite my dress and heels I wasn't quite a grown-up.

Below is my comment on Pandora's blog:

“For me most of my play is about surrendering control and responsibility. My real grown-up world ceases to exist for that brief period.

And in order to do that I retreat to feelings of smallness. Even when I play dark and abusive scenes that I inevitably come out of stronger and bolder, I still play them to feel small, diminished, less than I am.

The only grown-up scenes I play are those BDSMy scenes where it’s about both pain and pleasure, where I submit for sexual release and an adult mind fuck and where I actually want to please the other person.

But that’s very rare for me. My core kink is where I am choosing not to be grown-up. I.e. to be in positions where I am vulnerable in the face of someone else’s power and that makes me feel small.”

But I think the comment might make more sense in the context of the scene that prompted my original tweet. It had been a lovely weekend with HH, playing a variety of scenes, from real life discipline to abusive dark scenes to lighter caring scenes. I felt looked after and very relaxed. Completely removed from the worries of my day-to-day life. Free from the worries of being me.

As I prepared to leave this morning my mind was already turning to work that coming afternoon and a presentation I was due to give to some of our senior staff. I had thought about this in advance and brought along suitable clothes. A smart grey dress that came demurely to the knee, black ankle boots and nude stockings underneath completed the picture. I wore my favourite white and lacy underwear, just for added confidence. I put my hair up and looked in the mirror. A confident woman stared back at me, one who looked like she could take on the world. Gone was the teary girl, gone the girl who was spanked out of bed, gone she who lowered her panties and put herself over his knee when ordered.

That image is the essence of who I am. An outwardly strong and confident woman, with a little girl hiding inside who sometimes just wants to be looked after. The vast majority of my play lends itself to that little girlish, small, being controlled, vulnerable feeling. And when I say little girl I mean the feelings that come with it, I can feel small at all ages. And yet I also have the other side of me that exists too. The bossy, almost domineering person who rules her world. And even though my main play partners control me to some extent, that is only at my request, with my explicit permission, Just ask them what I’m like when driving, or making plans or cooking dinner. (Both Abel and HH have slunk out of my kitchen or more than one occasion!)

And today I asked HH to cane me in my grown-up clothes so I could acknowledge that little person inside me. So I could sit at work and feel cane marks burn under my smart dress and feel that somehow my two words are co-existing just as I want them to.

And for him too it was nice to think of me dispatched back to work with something to think about!

Saturday, September 25

Punishments aren't meant to be easy

HH told me this and as I clung to him last night. I had just been properly punished for a real life misdemeanor and was suitably sorry, sobbing uncontrollably at one point. Give the actual punishment was a hair brushing, but of the firm (it really hurt, please stop) instead of the severe (I'm going to die) variety it may seem an over reaction.

But when it comes to discipline, real life discipline, such spankings impact me far more. It's not easy when there's no character to hide behind, when you have to admit you were at fault and accept the punishment. And whilst it's fine for a character to be told they are bad, or disappointing, it's a very different matter when someone you have great respect for tells you personally such things. And it's further compounded by knowing that they're right and that you have let them and yourself down.

It didn't come as a surprise that I was going to be spanked for this. He had told me by email I deserved to be and I had to agree. And I knew he wouldn't forget.

Most of the evening was spent eating and chatting and happily catching up. But just before bed I grew quiet, anticipating what was ahead and not looking forward to it. He started by telling me I wasn't always a good girl was I? A very small 'no' was his answer. We have something to talk about don't we? An even quieter 'yes'. I can't be allowed away with things just because they happen when we're not in the same country? A single nod.

When he got up to prepare I buried my face in the bed, already on the verge of tears. But I didn't protest when told to come to him. Put my hands on top of my head as requested and faced him as he sat on the chair. (The chair he only ever sits on when a girl is going over his lap.)

I flushed when he took my trousers and knickers down to my knees. Tried not to make any protest when he asked me to hand him the hairbrush. The voice of reason in my head told me I'd be very lucky if I got away without being slippered. But still  I had to stand before him. 

"And why are you being punished?" he asked. I searched for the words but couldn't find any. I knew why, he knew why, please don't make me say it. I bent my head low hoping he would just move onto spanking me. When his fingers raised my chin up he could surely feel my lip quivering. But I could not look at him and still I could not speak.

The shame of having to articulate it was too much and I burst into tears, that soon gave way to sobs. The reason for the spanking was mixed in with so many more things I wasn't proud off, words that had not been said, but thought, and it was too much to be expected to speak. Surely he would show me this one small mercy.

Alas it was not to be. HH sat back comfortably in his chair, he could do this all night was the subtle warning. "Come on," he chided gently.

And eventually I choked out some words "because I over reacted about something."HH agreed, "yes you did and now you're ashamed aren't you?"

These words hung in the air as I sobbed even more. When I was finally ordered over his knee I obeyed instantly, never have I been so relieved for a spanking to start. Even though it hurt and even though I squealed and cried the whole time. Being properly punished leaves no room for bravery, there's nothing you can fight, only accept.

I did feel better afterwards though. There's nothing like tears and hugs and forgiveness to cleanse the soul.

Friday, September 24

More than a feeling

I've been thinking about relationships in the scene lately. How many types there are. How quickly they develop. How they evolve, often unpredictably.

I came into this scene looking for kink. In the back of my mind I was hopeful that someday I would find a kinky partner too. Abel had found his Haron, Pablo his Mija. It happened in this online dream world. Back then this partner was a Dominant male type, on my kinky level, monogamous and wanting a family.

Somewhere along the way I've fallen into several complicated relationships. People I love, people I share with others, people I play with, people I have sex with, people that I depend on, people who depend on me.

Relationships in the scene are quick to develop, with this online kinky community of ours a very potent catalyst. First of all there's the friendships. Thanks to our blogging and twitter community it was perfectly fine to make plans to hang out with Indy for a few days, before I even met her. Or to connect so easily with Casey the first time we met. Or to invite Irelynn to my home on first meeting.

These friendships are both casual and serious. Those who are part of my support network, my kinky family, and those who are amazing to play and hang out with.

And I found that there's a very brief period when these relationships are static, generally they are in a constant state of flux. Influenced by so many factors. Time, familiarity, exploration, egos. Brief flirtations in between. New play partners making their explorations through the mine of complex relationships they are barely aware of, let alone know how to navigate.

And  through my journey so far I have felt so many emotions, some fleeting, some lingering. The thrill of a threatened punishment, excitement at a flirty exchange, the hope of possibility, the disappointment of a something coming to nothing, the sadness of an ending, the relief of being included,  the loneliness at feeling left out, the euphoria at great play, the intense anger, the satisfaction of great sex, the peace of being cared for, the joy of being loved, the pangs of jealousy, the empathy with someone else's hurt, the fear of the unknown, the worry that I am not enough.

Of all these emotions I am painfully aware, often overwhelmed by myself and how I feel, muddled by so many contradictions. But these are not just random feelings, they sum to me. I feel, therefore I am.

Thursday, September 23

Answer Ireland's Call

It's all about Ireland right now. Well OK maybe not all about Ireland exactly, but with the Shamrock Spanking party just around the corner and so many kinky friends coming to visit me here it feels like Ireland is in the kinky spotlight. And I like that, not just cos it means less travelling for me, but I love people having a good time here.

At this stage most of my close kinky friends have visited me here and as you might have read on Irelynns blog, she and the lovely Sarah came last weekend. (You can look at our drawings from the Leprechaun Museum on her blog and you can imagine me bent over the giant furniture in spanking pose!)

We had a very lovely weekend together chatting, hanging out, shopping, eating and napping. In a funny set-up Sarah was in charge of Irelynn's behaviour, and I was in charge of Sarah's. Meaning I had to answer to Sixotb if Sarah was unduly naughty. Funnily no-one was in charge of me, apparently I was a risk not worth taking!

With this in mind we went to Nimhneach, my local fetish club and proceeded to beat each other soundly in the hope no-one would think we had shirked our duties. As usual I delighted to be back in my home club and it's always extra special when I can bring some of my friends along from across the water.

The night passed in blur of conversation and play, catching up with Master Retep, Bandree, Frank and Caroline Grey in particular. Despite not feeling up for serious play I did end up in a really intense scene with Frank. My first scene play partner I still love to play with him and always let him use the dreaded hairbrush (or the puppy killer as it is better known!)

Bandree, Caroline and I were spanked, strapped, caned and hairbrushed in turn with quite a crowd watching (perverts!!) Frank was in fine form and we did not get off at all lightly. It's a very scary state of play when you're over someone's knee wincing at a handspanking and knowing that this is the lightest part of it.

Otherwise play was generally light and fun, and I beat almost as many people as beat me. Including spanking and caning both Sarah and Irelynn. And I very much enjoyed a scene where we three took it in turns to whack Bandree as she tried to guess who had each implement. Poor her, but that gorgeous bottom is just too difficult to resist!

So roll on next Nimhneach when I'll have a very strict Headmaster in tow - this may mean I will be VERY well behaved ;-)

Thursday, September 9

Living without kink

Well it's not quite that dramatic, but I have been kink free for a whole 2 weeks now. In fact by the time my next kinkevent comes round (Nimhneach on the 17th) that will be a whole 3 weeks without headspace, bratting, cheekiness, squirming, pain, bruises or tears.

I should add that if I had so wished it, I could have easily arranged a beating or two, there being one or two toppy tops nearby who would be only be too willing to oblige.

Unlike on previous ocassions this kink free period hasn't worried me all. Partly because I know where my next spanking is coming from. I no longer binge myself on kink. Weekends with kinky friends are about being with the friend as much as any kinky stuff.

And also because the break has been good for me. For one thing my bottom has fully healed from quite a few serious sessions that I've played over the summer. A very good thing as I don't want weak spots. And more importantly my head has cleared.

At one point I was feeling overwhelmed by roleplay and deep scenes. And I retreated to the safety of serious pain and exhibitionism. No headspace just pain and fun and a lil bit of showing off! I want to go back to those deep scenes now. Back to scared, frightened characters who aren't at all brave, who submit to authority and control. And feel ready to disappear completely inside myself again to re-surface with the glow of survival.

Just as well this is where my head is at, given I have a weekend with HH coming up soon. We haven't played properly in forever, so I'm starting to mull over ideas for scenes.

There'll be a school girl yes - she'll probably only get a few cane strokes but it will be enough to break a good girl who's let her school down. And maybe there'll be a workhouse rebel who's defiance is dealt with once and for all? Or a lost young woman who needs her guardian to be firm but fair with her?

I can't decide but I'm not short of inspiration right now. All the same do feel free to add your ideas to the mix. If we play it I promise to write it up!

Sunday, September 5

The hairbrush challenge

Let me preface this post by admitting (or reassuring you?) that I don't watch Big Brother. As a social experiment I think it's actually a fascinating idea, but when put into the hands of TV producers the reality gets edited to the point it's as fake as if it were scripted. So I don't think it's worth giving my precious time to. I'd rather while away the time reading kinky blogs and tweeting about the minute detail of my day.

Anyway this is not a post about that show (or indeed about what I consider to be a good use of one's time!). But although I don't follow Big Brother, I was intrigued by this headline when I came across it:

Ultimate Big Brother housemate Brian Dowling had to plunge his hands into a pile of nettles in a bid to win contestants a party for the evening

My curiosity suitably piqued I read on. The contestants, it transpired were set the challenge of undertaking a a series of painful tasks for 3 minutes, without making a sound. One had to put his hands in a bowl of nettles, another had to search for a needle in a hay stack and another had to crawl over rows of upturned hairbrushes.

It couldn't have been all that bad seeing as they managed to successfully complete the challenge. Whereupon they were subsequently rewarded with lots of beer in the hope (no doubt) they would get sufficiently drunk to have an orgy or confess they have a crush on Tony Blair or whatever makes compelling TV these days...

Personally, I would have much preferred if it were the contestants that were upturned (over a convenient knee) and the hair brushes applied rightfully and vigorously. It would have been a more painful task indeed. Not to mention far more entertaining for us kinkier folk watching. And I really doubt they would have been able to stay silent for the whole 3 minutes!

I can't help wonder if I could take 3 minutes of the hairbrush without crying out either. I've certainly never tried. It's an implement I very rarely strive to be brave for, I want the top to get a very clear understanding of how much it hurts. Now I can do 3 minutes quietly of most other things yes, even the spray birch, but not so sure about the hairbrush. And to be honest I'm not really sure I want to find out the answer!

What about the rest of ye? By all means please feel free to carry out the experiment for me and report back!

Wednesday, September 1

The art of verbal sparring

When Indy came to visit we played a lovely school scene with Abel which she's done a great write up of on her blog. On reading her account I enjoyed reliving not just the scene but the verbal sparring between us the errant pupils and Headmaster Jenkins. Despite the fact we were 'playing to lose' we did our best to get out of the inevitable and delivered some off the cuff lines that a less experienced roleplayer than Abel might have been undone by!

I do love playing these scenes, where the pain stakes aren't high (although canings do hurt!) and I'm playing a character who has some license to be talk back or be just a little bit defiant. Very different to some of my more submissive characters who immediately surrender.

Over the weekend with Abel I played a similar type of scene as int it was light enough to allow my character free reign resulting in a great sparring match. At one stage I wasn't sure how Abel was actually going to get a spanking in at all so evenly matched were we.

The scene was inspired by us staying in a very fancy hotel where there were some very minor service issues that a more demanding clientele would have made a huge fuss about. As it was we were not hugely inconvenienced and happy to get on with things, but it did inspire this scene. I would be the VIP Guest Service Manager trying to deal with Abel, a very difficult guest.

We hadn't really discussed any details beyond what our roles were and therefore played out the whole scene entirely on spec, both surprising each other, and at times trying not to laugh at what the other came out with.

As Ms Carroll, I began the scene predisposed to think this guy was an asshole. A regular guest, he was forever complaining and even though we had given him an upgrade to one of our finest suites he still wasn't happy.

I was addressed with a barrage of complaints as soon as I entered the room: towels not folded to his liking, a bulb missing in the lamp, the remote control in the bedroom missing a battery, the curtains not drawn.

There were so many things wrong with his room I had the suspicion that he was causing the trouble himself, and I told him so. That was the start of a long verbal row where I accused him of looking for trouble and suggested I could move him to a smaller, plainer room with less potential for anything to go wrong.

In truth I was a very up-myself trainee manager who saw this man as nothing but trouble. He on the other hand was shocked at the way I spoke to him, clearly lacking the respect he felt he deserved. Things came to a head when I asked him was he he just lonely and could I provide him with a lady friend for the night?

He was so infuriated that in one quick move on his part, I was over his knee, knickers down and having my bottom spanked very hard. I was outraged but no amount of kicking and squirming could free me from his grasp. And despite my attempt to be brave it was clear that he was hurting me.

When he finally let me up I was temporarily stuck for words. But having succeeded in shutting me up, he wasn't finished yet. He made me remove my knickers and place myself face down on the bed in the next room. It didn't seem wise to ignore him so I obeyed, looking at him warily. Slowly he removed his belt and told me he was going to whip me until I learned how to treat the guests properly.

A few strokes in I was already feeling sorry for myself. Not just because of the stinging pain but his lecture was also making an impact. I seemed liked a bright girl but how did I expect to progress with that attitude? What would happen if he complained to the general manager?

And so I began to apologise in earnest and promised to do better. Much better. When he finally let me up I had to endure one final humiliation. He requested my knickers and placed them in an envelope, warning that if the rest of his stay wasn't impeccable he'd deliver them to the General Manager with a note as to how he acquired them. I nearly died at the thought and scuttled from the room, completely chastised!

Afterwards we giggled over the lines each of us had come out with and how the verabl sparring had really made the scene. But I had to admit that Abel had certainly won once again. But maybe I'll get him one day!