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Asking for it: II

Posted at 08:18 on 17 Apr 2009 by Pandora / Blake

The highlight of last week, in terms of play, was definitely the belated birthday spanking I got from Tom. (I still think it's horribly mean of him to beat me for his birthday as well as mine, not least because he's seven years older than me...) We hadn't planned to play that evening; in fact, I'd forgotten that I'd been promised 32 strokes to mark the passing of another year. I was working from home, and I still had work to finish when he arrived that evening. He relaxed with a book while I wrapped things up as quickly as I could.

By the time I'd emailled my client the finished project, I was feeling tired and frazzled. Tom was already installed on my sofa, so I couldn't use his arrival as a way to signal to my brain that it was time to stop concentrating on work and start relaxing. I went over and gave him a cuddle, but I couldn't seem to chill out, and the prospect of starting to cook dinner without a proper break was daunting.

So, I asked for a spanking. Politely and submissively, of course; despite my tentative bratting with D., I still hate the idea of being a demanding sub, all BEAT ME NOW. Tom smiled, kissed my hand, and said he was pleased with me for asking. So that was okay.

Upstairs, I obeyed his instructions to pull down my jeans and stack up pillows in the middle of the bed. I'd expected to go over his knee, but instead he held me in place with a firm hand on the small of my back while he spanked me with the other. It was lovely. Some of my thoughts were still snagged on work stress, but I tried to ignore it and focus on the sensations. He started lightly enough that I was soon squirming and making appreciative noises, and then he built it up, holding me in place the whole time, until each slow smack was so hard it seemed to melt my flesh to the palm of his hand for an instant. It hurt like hell, but only for a second or two, and then there was that hot stinging, spreading glow, and his hand on my back was warm and reassuring, and after a while I was definitely not thinking about work any more.

When he finally stopped I was flushed and giddy and full of energy. I wanted to bounce onto his lap, or make dinner, or do something else affirming and wenchly, but he had other plans. One gentle kiss, and back over the cushions I went. He found my medium straight-handled cane, and started to deliver my - his - birthday strokes.

They were swift, crisp, and shocking. By the end of the first six my giddy mood had fled, and I was clinging to the pillows for dear life. The next six and I was silently begging him to slow down, give me time to recover between each one, but I didn't dare plead out loud, and he kept on at the same relentless pace. Each biting stroke elicited a gasp that turned into a sob as soon as the next layered it, and the next, so that at the end of each set of six tears were running down my face. I struggled, helplessly, against the hand that still had me firmly pinned to the bed.

I felt well and truly sorry for myself. This wasn't what I'd wanted. I'd wanted a friendly, loving spanking, enough to ground me in my body and rejuvenate me for the evening. I didn't want to be pushed, I didn't want to cry, I didn't want my recently-achieved good mood to be torn apart by the flashing cane. This wasn't what I'd asked for!

But, of course, that was entirely not the point. This wasn't about what I wanted; this was my Dom's birthday caning, and my duty was to accept it with good grace. So I tried my hardest to be obedient. What my body wanted to do was jump up and refuse to go on, but my head and heart forced it to stay in place. I sagged onto the bed, weeping hot tears into the crumpled pillows.

Four firm strokes to round it off and it was over, and I was being cuddled, and it was all okay. I don't know if Tom would have preferred me to enjoy his birthday spanking unreservedly, but I didn't resist (even if I wasn't particularly brave) which I guess is what counts.

I suppose if I'd been allowed to keep my temporary euphoria I would only have crashed back down later on. The security of being caned whether I wanted to or not was rewarding in a different way.

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Tags: dominance and submission, kink, seasonal spankings, Thomas Cameron

7 comments

two valentines

Posted at 22:53 on 19 Feb 2009 by Pandora / Blake

I've been intending to write all week about the lovely Valentines weekend I had with the boys. About being surprised by D. when we got home from a delicious dinner, encountering him in the living room with the paddle, the yardstick and the cane already laid out ready to use. Being kissed by him. Told to bend over with my hands on the sofa, and warmed up until my whole body was humming and my knees were buckling.

He let me lay myself over the arm of the sofa, resting my weight so I could close my eyes and let the sensations wash over me. I wriggled and moaned and arched my hips. When he went next door I stayed where I was put, all my usual impatience drained away, content to wait and see what he had in store for me.

I didn't recognise the soft, shivery sound that came next. It wasn't until I felt the ice-cold tip of it draw a silvery trail on my sensitised skin that I whimpered with recognition. Swords have been part of my kink for years, and I hang onto every word when D. talks about holding past lovers at swordpoint, threats and coercion and cold steel pressing against the vulnerable hollow of her throat. But I've never felt one before. He teased me, slowly dragging the sharp point over the curve of my ass. I could have melted. When he started to use the flat, tapping it with increasing force, I was so turned on it took a while to register that the strokes weren't really having much effect. The blade held no sting at all; even when he used more force the impact wasn't as interesting as I'd hoped. But the kiss of the point, leaving trails of promise on my skin, made me tremble with desire.

The next night Tom and I went out to a fetish club. It was a wild night. Lots of kisses, lots of friends and lots of unexpected encounters. I didn't get as much private time with him as I'd have liked, but we stole moments where we could and I think he still managed to give the crowd a show.

When we first arrived, dropped off our things in the cloakroom and fixed our outfits, the first thing we did was find the dungeon. It was crowded already, but there was a leather-padded trestle in one of the alcoves which I quickly found myself bent over. Once I was in position my head was mere inches from the randoms on the sofa, who weren't really into it; I heard laughter and the comment " ... a bit too much like grammar school!" I closed my eyes, willing away the spectators, focussing on the space containing Tom and me.

He started to cane me. Lightly, at first, with a thin crook-handled cane. I knew he wouldn't be able to hear my whimpers and I was oddly reluctant to make a fool of myself in front of the sofa people, so I shut my eyes and focussed all my attention on the sensations, trying to communicate my responses to him physically. I tossed my head, wiggled on the trestle, twisted away from the harder strokes and, when every so often the pain jolted pleasure down my nerves like electricity, rose towards them. After each set of twelve he checked in on me, bent his face to mine to hear anything I needed to say, stroked my hair. I didn't need to say anything. I was fine. I was in the zone.

I can't remember how many strokes he gave me. 48? They weren't hard; just enough to set my head spinning and nerves tingling. Afterwards we found another couple to play with, and I held hands with a gorgeous girl as her partner cropped her through her latex. I caught her face and kissed her as she writhed under the strokes.

Later, I found myself kneeling on one of the seats, face to the wall, my skirt hitched up around my waist. I could only imagine the full moon of my bottom as it must appear to people walking by. Tom attended to it with hand, wooden hairbrush, and the cane again. I floated in darkness, aware of nothing but his touch, each stinging impact going up like a flare. I squirmed away from the stinging, spanking brush, but each smack illuminated our connection, keeping me linked to him from my shadowy half-world with my face to the wall. The half-heard remarks of passers by drifted past my consciousness. I flushed when the couple sitting next to us commented on my bottom, and Tom responded, discussing me as if I wasn't there.

It was easy for me, last weekend, to close my eyes and trust that they would take me somewhere worth travelling to. The journey wasn't an arduous one. The pain was welcome; it represented their attentiveness, their gift of love to me. I squirmed my appreciation. And, afterwards, showed my gratitude in all the ways I know best.

This isn't the only time of year I feel so cherished, by any means. But it's nice to have the excuse.

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Tags: D, dominance and submission, kink, seasonal spankings, Thomas Cameron

1 comment

New Year's Eve

Posted at 12:39 on 3 Jan 2009 by Pandora / Blake

I didn't get to spend New Year's Eve the way I wanted.

For a start, I wasn't able to be with both my boys. Tom works in the hospitality industry, and he had to stay at work past midnight. I decided to go along and keep him company, but we were surrounded by the other guests, and his boss and co-workers, so there was no opportunity for privacy.

What I'd have liked, if we could have stayed at home, would be to ring in the New Year with twelve cane strokes. Each in time with the chime of midnight. Perhaps, for extra dramatic effect, we'd have the BBC on in the background, and the strokes would fall in time with the ringing of Big Ben. Or perhaps he'd keep time himself. I've written about the concept of a caning clock before, and I like the idea of using the emotional curve of a caning to more powerfully mark the changing of the years. How much more acute would the anticipation be, in the countdown to midnight, knowing what was coming? How intense would it be, flying into the new year on a wave of endorphins, snuggled and content in the aftermath of a punishment well-taken? What better way of cleansing oneself of those aspects of 2008 one would rather leave behind?

Sadly, this year it was not to be. At midnight we enjoyed a toast and a kiss, and saved the play until the next day, once we'd had some sleep. I'm hoping to write about that in more detail tomorrow, but until then this should give you an idea of how much fun we had:



I'm not the first person to think the idea of a midnight caning is hot. Abel from the Spanking Writers had a similar idea, and Prefectdt posted a cute caning clip to mark the ten-second countdown to midnight. And if you're interested in cleansing rituals, Olivia has written a beautiful post about her own personal traditions.

I'm looking forward to being able to start my own.

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Tags: Fantasies, kink, Photos, seasonal spankings, Thomas Cameron

1 comment

on being a grown-up

Posted at 19:20 on 30 Dec 2008 by Pandora / Blake

I spent Christmas this year with my partners and family of choice. My parents have just moved overseas (which makes it slightly easier to have a porn career, I'll admit), and while I'd normally want to spend Christmas with my lovely brother and sister-in-law, this year their filial duty required that they visit her family. My sister-in-law is practically my sister, and I love her to bits. I was sorry not to be able to spend the day with them, and as soon as my first glass of champagne was poured on Christmas morning I phoned them up to wish them merry Christmas.

We gossiped for ages, and I chatted about how weird it was not having my mum and dad around. But it was balanced out by how awesome a time I was having, sharing Christmas just with friends and lovers. "I mean, we could have sex on Christmas day and everything!" I exclaimed, "it's a complete novelty!" My sister agreed enthusiastically, saying that this was exactly why she and my brother had gone on a dirty weekend just before Christmas.

Of course, because this is us, my Doms and I didn't just have Christmas sex. I was the happy recipient of two Christmas spankings this year, one from each of them. My sister isn't quite close enough to want to know about them in detail, but hey, that's why I have a blog.

For D, I wore a figure-hugging minidress in festive red, fully-fashioned stockings, and my new Christmas shoes. I'd made him and Tom stockings this year as a surprise, traditional red velvet with white fur trim like the ones my mum made for me when I was little.

After D. had opened all his presents I was fooling around wearing the empty stocking on one foot, and making bad puns about being a stocking filler.

"Go on then," he quipped, expecting me not to have brought stockings with me, but I had. I'm good like that, me. So I grinned and nipped next door and got dressed up, and he sat down on the corner of the bed and he tied my red ribbon around my neck, the one that I wear to remind me I'm his. It matched the dress and made me feel like a present ready to be unwrapped. Then he kissed me and pulled me over his lap, and gave me a firm and sensual spanking that pressed all my buttons and made me more than ready for the fucking he then gave me, with my reddened bum lifted for him and my face pressed into the bed.

Yum.

I saw Tom the next day, and we had langourous morning sex with the sunlight spilling into his room - giving his bed, with its white cotton sheets, a profound sense of peacefulness. This we proceeded to thoroughly disturb with a slow, hard over-the-knee spanking that had me moaning. Every other stroke he paused to rub my tingling cheeks, and I clung to his thigh and wriggled in delight.

No edgy play, no implements, no scene formalities. (No santa hats, either, despite the photo.) Neither of them sought to push me and the mood was joyful, celebratory. I may even have laughed with delight, inbetween yelps. It was simple and loving and perfect.

If this is what being a grown-up means, I'm all in favour.

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Tags: D, dominance and submission, kink, Photos, seasonal spankings, Thomas Cameron

1 comment

what I've been up to

Posted at 19:27 on 6 Nov 2008 by Pandora / Blake

Well, it turns out I have even less time to blog than I'd hoped. I'm working pretty much flat-out, with barely enough time to catch up with my boys and certainly not enough to catch up on sleep. Even my cat is feeling neglected.

There's been some fun stuff, though, in amongst all the work. Such as a lovely shoot yesterday with Amelia-Jane and our mutual friend Olivia, who was an unexpectedly excellent top playing our very no-nonsense governess. Amelia and I whimpered and whined our way through our punishments - really, we were completely graceless - and Olivia's poise was breathtaking by comparison. But it's okay for my character to fancy her governess, right? Older female role models, and all that?

I spent last weekend with D, which was absolutely lovely, and included lots of rudeness which was far too kinky to discuss on this blog. The highlight of the weekend was the Torture Garden Halloween Ball on Saturday night, which was superb - one of the best TGs I've ever been to. I was very proud of surviving the whole night in these shoes, which gathered many compliments and were surprisingly comfortable, and I kissed a pretty girl, chatted to friends, danced and enjoyed myself immensely. I was disappointed that the hedonistic D/s foursome which D and the pretty girl were plotting as a birthday present for a friend of theirs, which would have involved me being given to said friend to punish, didn't happen in the end. But later in the night D bent me over a whipping bench, flogged me on my back and bum until I was dizzy, and then dealt me one of the hardest hand-spankings I think he's ever given me, so I wasn't too deprived in the end.

Next weekend Tom and I are going to Night of the Cane, the annual CP extravaganza hosted by The Firm and incorporating the famous Annual Caning Competition. I'm pretty sure we'll be entering again this year, which will of course be awful for me given how much I hate being punished in front of other people. (Hee.) Hopefully I'll see some of you there? Do come and say hello - I may be quiet on this blog at the moment, but I'm much more chatty in person!

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Tags: Amelia Jane Rutherford, D, kink, Night of the Cane, other pictures, seasonal spankings, shoot writeups

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prickly heat

Posted at 02:03 on 30 Jul 2008 by Pandora / Blake

"I've told my blog that you're going to spank me with my new hairbrush," I said to Tom as I left my desk yesterday evening. He grinned at me. "So it'd be nice if I could post a photo tomorrow, if you take one after my spanking? Would that be okay?"

"Sure," he said, accepting my camera and putting it on the bedside table. "I'm sure something will present itself."

We hadn't played since our dramatic session a couple of weeks ago. I'd been anticipating it all weekend, but as the moment neared I found myself procrastinating. I took a shower, tidied up a bit, and then flopped on the bed, hoping the water evaporating off my damp skin would cool me down a bit. It was too hot to move, and I'd been stressed all day. He waited patiently while I fussed and made small talk, before gently but firmly guiding me over his lap. I was already naked after my shower, and I was still slightly damp as well, although whether from bathing or just fresh sweat provoked by the day's aggressive humidity, I couldn't tell.

I wiggled on his lap, wanting to get into a submissive headspace but aware that I was distracted and fractious in the heat. As he started to spank me I yelped and bit my lip, trying not to flail around on his lap as his hand stung me with little biting smacks. I hadn't been spanked in ages, and it was hot, and it hurt. I found myself giving bratty responses, exaggerating my stroppiness and making a great fuss as a way of defusing my very real tension. But I'm usually so eager to please that we don't really have a framework for engaging with my brattiness, and half the time I think my OTT pouts and shrieks were genuinely aggrieved. He held me firm and told me to be calm, stroked the back of my neck. I didn't want to be calm. I wanted to fuss. I sobbed into the pillows. The over-reaction was sort of helping me get into the right mindspace to accept the pain, but I just couldn't relax enough to be properly submissive.

When he switched to the new hairbrush, it was even worse. Oh god it stung. I don't know how such a small piece of wood could cause so much pain. Was I just out of practice, or was this hairbrush pure, concentrated evil? Maybe something to do with density, or the ratio of surface area to weight? It was heavy, and smooth, and stingy, and it burned, and dear god I could not take it. I started yelling as well as yelping - we aren't normally very verbal during spankings - and during a fast volley of smarks I was shrieking "PLEASE NO, SIR PLEASE NOT SO FAST, NOT SO FAST!" When he paused and rested a warning hand on the back of my neck I think he was surprised. Yelling made it easier to take, and I was getting a perverse enjoyment out of my stroppiness, but it wasn't the response he wanted. He talked to me quietly until I calmed down a bit, and then he slowed the pace, waiting for my reaction to each stroke to die down before delivering the next. I couldn't cope with those spanks at all. Each smack felt like he was touching a red hot poker to my bum. I tried to be quiet but I was so clearly over-sensitive that he eased up a little, and the last few smacks were pitifully light, but I still complained piteously after every one.

He helped me up, we hugged, and talked it over. I wasn't sure if the hairbrush was just made of evil, or if the heat was screwing up my body's responses. Maybe the dampness of my skin was making it worse? I thought that the sensation of the new hairbrush could be very erotic if I wasn't being such a wuss, and I told him that I wanted to try it again sometime. When it was less hot.

In the meantime I felt bad about not taking my spanking like a good girl, and despite the fire in my bottom I said to Tom that I wanted to keep playing. He said he'd been considering getting my tawse out. I thought that a stinging tawse would be horrible in this heat, but I could see why he thought leather might work. So in a fit of stupidity I asked if he had a belt that were suitable. He said yes.

Moments later I was lying over pillows in the middle of the bed, bum raised and fists clenched, waiting for the first awful stroke. He took me by surprise; starting oh-so-light, alternating each stroke with a teasing caress. I was soon getting turned on, the pace of my whole body slowing down, becoming languid as I accepted the increasingly heavy strokes. The belt is an extraordinarily warm implement, yet somehow my sizzling bottom and overheated brain found it deeply soothing. He made me count the last eighteen, and when he'd finished I felt like I'd got the whipping I wanted. I was grinning as he kissed me. The weather was almost so hot and humid that we didn't have the energy to take things to their usual conclusion. But not quite :)

So, no hairbrush photos - in the end the spanking was so difficult and emotional that we didn't get the chance, and although it hurt like hell, the pinkness in my cheeks faded too quickly for it to be worth posing a shot. But I did upload a whole bunch of photos from Tom's phone this morning, including home spanking photos dating back several months. I've used two from March this year to illustrate this post.

(Speaking of phones, mine was stolen today ... which hasn't helped my stress levels. Any of you who had my number, I'd appreciate it if you could drop me an email so I can make sure I have your details. Thanks!)

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Tags: admin, dominance and submission, kink, otk spanking, Photos, requesting assistance, seasonal spankings

1 comment

gift-wrapped

Posted at 18:23 on 27 Dec 2007 by Pandora / Blake

Happy Christmas! I hope you're all enjoying your holiday. I had a lovely time spending the last few days with my family, my partners and my best friend, eating and drinking far too much.

In the evening we watched Hot Fuzz, the latest Simon Pegg film, about an over-achieving metropolitan police officer transferred to a sleepy rural village. I hadn't seen it before and thought it was brilliantly funny. I particularly appreciated Jim Broadbent as Chief Inspector Butterman, head of the sinister Neighbourhood Watch. Now there's an actor who can project authority. The character starts off as endearing and twinkly, but as the film progresses he becomes increasingly commanding. It's all in the eyes and the voice. I'm not sure I'd be so keen on encountering Inspector Butterman in one of his axe-wielding moments (I'll leave that to the more adventurous Niki Flynn), but I certainly wouldn't mind going over his knee.

In keeping with the spirit of the season, I'm posting a couple of free photos of me tied up with ribbon. I'm afraid these aren't from this year - the observant among you will notice that these shots were taken before I got my tattoo. But I'm currently in the process of booking some shoots in January, so I should have some new photos for you soon. In the meantime, I'll keep raiding the archive for pictures to keep you entertained :)

I haven't been giftwrapped and put under the tree yet ... but my parents have gone home now, and there are nine whole days of Christmas left :) I'll let you know how we get on.



Best wishes from all of us for a happy and spanking-filled new year :)

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Tags: corrupting the innocent, films and TV, Photos, reviews, seasonal spankings

1 comment

Easter spanking links

Posted at 19:03 on 10 Apr 2007 by Pandora / Blake

I hope you all had a good Easter! Mine was excellent, if slightly irreligious - I spent most of my Easter Sunday alternating between the jacuzzi, pool and steam room in the company of Mr C, and three exceptionally pretty young people. After we'd thoroughly soaked ourselves we all went for a picnic in a beautiful nearby wood - if it hadn't been for the 5 hour train journey back to London that afternoon, it would have been a perfect day.

Almost. Alas, it didn't involve any spanking. Upon my return to the internets, however, I discovered that Abel and Haron of The Spanking Writers have been getting up to more than enough to keep us all entertained. A kinky friend is staying with them, and her accounts of their weekend are well worth reading. Here are a couple of my favourites so far:

Rods for their own backsides: two reformatory girls cut their own birches for their final Good Friday punishments.

A spanking for Easter: the seasonal celebrations are interrupted when two sisters discover that daddy intends to punish them for breaking their Lenten promises...

Sympathetic as I am to Haron and Martha's plight, I must confess I'm greatly looking forward to reading more of their adventures :)

And finally, the best Easter spanking comic I've ever seen, courtesy of Spanking Blog:

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Tags: other pictures, seasonal spankings

1 comment

Happy Wednesday

Posted at 13:30 on 14 Feb 2007 by Pandora / Blake

Like most modern free-thinking people, I have mixed feelings about Valentines day. On the one hand, the commercialism and consumer guilt are totally unnecessary - I don't want to feel obliged to spend money I don't have on flowers and chocolates and greetings cards that are, to be honest, fairly politically dodgy in origin. On the other hand, I'm not one to object to a bit of love and romance, as long as it's sincere.

As meish.org has it: 'One day in February isn't special. But you are.' My own Valentines has been scattered over several days, starting with the Torture Garden Valentines Ball with both my Lords on Saturday, and continuing with a quiet evening in with Thomas tonight and a free gig with D. tomorrow. And I may possibly have secret romantic plans for this weekend. ;)

In the meantime, it seems appropriate for us kinky types to celebrate the Roman Lupercalia tomorrow:

'The sacrificial feast followed, after which the Luperci cut thongs from the skins of the victims, which were called Februa, dressed themselves in the skins of the sacrificed goats, in imitation of Lupercus, and ran round the walls of the old Palatine city, the line of which was marked with stones, with the thongs in their hands in two bands, striking the people who crowded near. Girls and young women would line up on their route to receive lashes from these whips.'

Sounds far more romantic than teddy bears and hearts to me.

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Tags: Politics, seasonal spankings, Spanking and bondage porn

8 comments

A brand spanking new year

Posted at 10:03 on 3 Jan 2007 by Pandora / Blake

Well, my old email address is working again, so hopefully your mails should reach me whichever address you send them to. I've still lost my email archive, but I'll be able to re-upload my websites today. The problem with using the server run by your boyfriend is that he's faced with crucial decisions like choosing between going home and working on getting his girlfriend's professional websites and email back online, or staying in bed with her for more cuddlings and spankings.

In fact, now I come to think of it, I haven't actually been spanked yet this year. I don't think so, anyway. There was an incident with a wooden hairbrush that made quite an impact, but I think that was on New Year's Eve ...

The problem with updating your blog from your laptop in the morning while snuggling with your Lord is that when you ask him "Actually hang on, have I been spanked yet this year?" He has a tendency to respond with a wicked grin and a promise to do something about that before he goes home. I guess the server will have to wait to be fixed a little while longer. Gotta go...

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Tags: admin, dominance and submission, kink, seasonal spankings, Spanking and bondage porn

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