Posted at 00:21 on 29 Oct 2011 by Pandora / Blake
There's been a photoset going up on Northern Spanking over the last few weeks which I first blogged about a month ago. It's called 'Pandora and the Tutor', and is of interest not only for its evocative Blushes-era atmosphere, but because when the first update came out I was astonished - for the first time ever, I had apparently genuinely forgotten about a scene. I had no memory of shooting those pictures at all.
The thing is that I hadn't forgotten shooting all of it. I'd only forgotten the first half, upstairs, in which the tutor scolds me, spanks me over his knee, and forces me to adopt undignifying positions over a chair for further punishment. This isn't an ordinary detention - it's prolonged, horrible, a Friday night when everyone else has gone home, alone with this awful old man* with no way of knowing how far it's going to go, and no way to stop him.
*Michael Stamp is brilliant really, and not actually very old, despite the receding hairline.
Dissatisfied with my humiliation over the chair, the tutor decides that further methods are necessary. I am handed a PE kit and sent down the echoing stairs to the basement, where I'm to get changed and await him.
It's gloomy and dusty in the basement. There's a few odds and ends down here - a games table, some gym equipment - but it doesn't see much use. Goosepimples prickle my arms as I get changed. The PE kit isn't much of one, really: gym knickers and a vest. That's it. It's so cold I can't bear to go barefoot, so I keep my school shoes and socks on and hope I won't get into more trouble for it. I huddle by the only radiator while I wait, shivering, for the sound of footsteps on the stair.
I remember shooting the next part.
Altogether, it was a deliciously unpleasant, non-consensual, abusive sort of school scene, exactly the sort of fantasy to get me all hot and bothered inside my gym knickers. I got to wallow in victimhood and feel thoroughly sorry for myself, especially when the tutor put me into the diaper position on the ping pong table.
How unimaginably awful! I didn't know where to look: I certainly couldn't look at him. Thank god he didn't make me take my knickers off first. But the ping pong paddle hurt much, much worse when my bottom was all exposed like that, with the skin stretched tight and him deliberately aiming the whacks above the knickers, right on the most vulnerable part of my thighs.
Oh, I loved it really. Love love loved it.
Yes - of course I remembered that ping pong spanking. It was so exciting that it apparently eclipsed the whole previous section of the scene entirely from my memory.