What is it about bookshops that makes us brilliant spanko girls want to drop our knickers and take a good hard punishment among all the beautiful, delicious smelling books?
Saturday, November 20, 2010
Spanked Among the Tomes
What is it about bookshops that makes us brilliant spanko girls want to drop our knickers and take a good hard punishment among all the beautiful, delicious smelling books?
the pink report: Contradictions
Don't we all just love Pink?
I"m reposting her wonderful post about the contradictions of this thing we do.
the pink report: Contradictions: "Just because I wrestle you with all of my strength does not mean that I want to win. My triumph is knowing that even though you can always ..."
I"m reposting her wonderful post about the contradictions of this thing we do.
the pink report: Contradictions: "Just because I wrestle you with all of my strength does not mean that I want to win. My triumph is knowing that even though you can always ..."
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Building a Basic Punishment Kit
As you may know, I'm looking for a mentor.
My goal is to be ridiculously capable of following instructions, and yet horribly bratty and recalcitrant.
First thing's first. I want to present a potential Sir with a collection of things that would make it easy for him to take me in hand (if he were to be able, mentally, do to such a thing).
Here are the first five items that come immediately to mind...
2 rulers (one 1ft, one 1 yard)
at least 4 rolls of electrical tape, various colors
one wooden hairbrush
one discipline notebook and pen
one yard of satin ribbon
What else should I include?
xoxo
Libby
My goal is to be ridiculously capable of following instructions, and yet horribly bratty and recalcitrant.
First thing's first. I want to present a potential Sir with a collection of things that would make it easy for him to take me in hand (if he were to be able, mentally, do to such a thing).
Here are the first five items that come immediately to mind...
2 rulers (one 1ft, one 1 yard)
at least 4 rolls of electrical tape, various colors
one wooden hairbrush
one discipline notebook and pen
one yard of satin ribbon
What else should I include?
xoxo
Libby
More Corner Discipline
The Mentor led me to the corner of my apartment by the back door that opens onto the little balcony.
It's like a little recessed pocket...having searched for a proper rug for it, I know that it's 20 inches deep and 38 inches across.
But he'd produced a tape measure and a pencil from his jacket pocket, and was handing them to me.
"Now, Libby. You're going to be making pencil and tape marks on the wall and floor. You have four colors of tape there...blue, yellow, red, and pink. Blue will signify the first position, yellow the second, and red the third. Pink will be a second option for each of the levels. So, for instance, if I were to say, remove your clothing and take the yellow position, option two, you'd know exactly how you should be positioned. It should take you no longer than 45 seconds to disrobe, fold your clothing neatly, and assume the position I demand."
My head was swirling with the new information, and he could see it.
"This is not unreasonable. When I leave today, you'll completely understand and easily be able to fulfill my expectations. Do you understand?"
"Yes Sir." My answer was automatic.
It was automatic not because I felt coerced, or because he had instructed me to answer as such, but because he was relating so directly to something so pure and reasonable in me that it pushed everything else aside. He was commanding my respect on an almost reptilian level of my brain.
But he'd produced a tape measure and a pencil from his jacket pocket, and was handing them to me.
"Now, Libby. You're going to be making pencil and tape marks on the wall and floor. You have four colors of tape there...blue, yellow, red, and pink. Blue will signify the first position, yellow the second, and red the third. Pink will be a second option for each of the levels. So, for instance, if I were to say, remove your clothing and take the yellow position, option two, you'd know exactly how you should be positioned. It should take you no longer than 45 seconds to disrobe, fold your clothing neatly, and assume the position I demand."
My head was swirling with the new information, and he could see it.
"This is not unreasonable. When I leave today, you'll completely understand and easily be able to fulfill my expectations. Do you understand?"
"Yes Sir." My answer was automatic.
It was automatic not because I felt coerced, or because he had instructed me to answer as such, but because he was relating so directly to something so pure and reasonable in me that it pushed everything else aside. He was commanding my respect on an almost reptilian level of my brain.
My Bottom Smarts!
Wow, Bonnie is a force of nature! I've received over a thousand hits in the last day from her brilliant blog.
Thank you most sincerely, Love.
xooxo
Libby
xooxo
Libby
Sunday, November 14, 2010
Thoughts on Discovering the Joy of Being a Brat
Of course, like all bona fide spankos, I know that I was born with this predilection. I've enjoyed many a nice hard spanking, mostly with boyfriends, on the thin pretense of some invented infraction.
As if there were a lack of infractions in my real life.
Heretofore my fantasies have been about being a good girl. Doing exactly what my hypothetical Sir asks for and earning only good girl spankings.
But in the last fortnight or so, I've begun to give myself permission to fully explore my wish to be held accountable with a good, hard spanking at the hands of a confident, successful man. I've engaged in discussions with a few gentlemen who seem to have an innate understanding of this bad girl streak. As such, I'm coming to discover the joy of being a brat.
I'm a very polite girl. I don't mouth off to authority figures, normally. But, of late, I've discovered that when I've already captured a potential Sir's attention, I truly love to become bratty.
When I'm in my normal frame of mind, I gasp when I think about my rudeness, and about how a gentleman who truly understands me can take me in hand and sharpen my attention to a quick point with his discipline.
And so, who will be that special Sir for me?
When the Mentor had finally finished instructing me in all the details of how I was to keep my house clean, I was exhausted. Three hours had passed, and he didn't seem tired at all. I'd been standing for most of that time, taking notes and asking him questions to clarify.
Though I'd been only in my panties and t-shirt, that had stopped feeling so embarrassing. I had been mortified when Sir had briefly stood me with my hands clutching my ankles, and panties around my knees, and after all the studious labor of the last three hours, I was almost hoping I'd find myself in such a posture again, if nothing else but for novelty.
"Alright, Libby. You may fetch a glass of water for me and one for yourself, and then you may take a 10 minute break."
Break? I thought the lesson was surely near ending! He noticed my reaction, though I thought it'd not been visible.
"Girl, you've not learned the proper way to accept cornertime, yet!"
"I bet I can figure out how to stand in a corner." Immediately I regretted saying it.
"What was that?"
"Nothing, Sir, I'm sorry."
"And if you had been so impertinent during a proper session, do you believe I should let that slide without comment?"
"No Sir. You shouldn't. You should correct me."
"And impertinence warrants cornertime. You may take your break, now."
Without having to be told again, I went and poured two glasses of water, and took one to him. "Good Girl, now, before you begin your leisure time, bring me my case."
From it, he drew an egg timer, handed it to me and told me to set it for ten minutes, and place it on the table beside him. When I did, he nodded, waved me away dismissively, and pulled a book from his bag.
When the bell rang, he put his book back into his bag and pulled out what looked to be a bungee cord run through several spools of electrical tape. It frightened me a little. He handed it to me.
"Don't look so scared, Silly Girl. Come on, let's have your lesson.
Though I'd been only in my panties and t-shirt, that had stopped feeling so embarrassing. I had been mortified when Sir had briefly stood me with my hands clutching my ankles, and panties around my knees, and after all the studious labor of the last three hours, I was almost hoping I'd find myself in such a posture again, if nothing else but for novelty.
"Alright, Libby. You may fetch a glass of water for me and one for yourself, and then you may take a 10 minute break."
Break? I thought the lesson was surely near ending! He noticed my reaction, though I thought it'd not been visible.
"Girl, you've not learned the proper way to accept cornertime, yet!"
"I bet I can figure out how to stand in a corner." Immediately I regretted saying it.
"What was that?"
"Nothing, Sir, I'm sorry."
"And if you had been so impertinent during a proper session, do you believe I should let that slide without comment?"
"No Sir. You shouldn't. You should correct me."
"And impertinence warrants cornertime. You may take your break, now."
Without having to be told again, I went and poured two glasses of water, and took one to him. "Good Girl, now, before you begin your leisure time, bring me my case."
From it, he drew an egg timer, handed it to me and told me to set it for ten minutes, and place it on the table beside him. When I did, he nodded, waved me away dismissively, and pulled a book from his bag.
When the bell rang, he put his book back into his bag and pulled out what looked to be a bungee cord run through several spools of electrical tape. It frightened me a little. He handed it to me.
"Don't look so scared, Silly Girl. Come on, let's have your lesson.
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