On emerging from the void

So I have returned from that scary place called Real Life.

Real Life is a scary place indeed. In the last three years …maybe four I almost lost my mum, her heart problems were more serious than I thought. I did two training courses which I had hoped would lead me to a great job/career but didn’t.

Worzel moved into the spare room. I got a job in a Plastic Injection Moulding (fire extinguisher parts, klaxon horn parts) factory which I enjoyed but lost due to lack of work 9 months later.

My dad had a mild stroke which took him a year to recover from, during this time we noticed he had started to have trouble keeping food down.  Oesophageal Cancer. Diagnosed in May, gone in October 2014.



Dad. 6/4/34 – Oct 2014

So I grieved, am still grieving I think.

January 2015 mum decided to put the house on the market. February 2016 the house is sold. Selling a house is stressful. Watching brother no#2 sell the house on behalf of Mum and not tell her everything for fear of stressing her out…is more stressful.

Worzel and I are renting a flat from my sister but even that is only short term. Right now we are sure that thing we wanted was in that box….but where is that box?? There’s so many boxes!!!

I have taken a job at a coffee factory which I am enjoying. The work is easy, for the most part the people are nice. The language barrier is hard. Most of the staff are Asian and speak Punjabi, and forget that there are only English speaking staff members around.  The two packs of free coffee each week are rather nice also lol.

Now that Worzel and I have our own place I find that I am craving spankings and other play. Usually I get my fix in the morning before work and again when I come home or before bed, although I think Worzel may not like the idea next week when I am on 6-2 lol.

We still attend parties regularly and travel up to Yorkshire for the bi-annual spank retreats as well as spend time with kinky friends.

Oh and I have joined the ranks of the mad English on their bicycles and purchased a nippy little fold up thing for commuting.

Until next time friends.




Categories: Real Life | 1 Comment

On the subject of outside play, in Yorkshire, in October.


Its cold, that’s what. And the slightest bit of wind has you looking round for dog walkers or people in general. Of course your worried about those lovely new pink trainers getting all muddy or wet…but he dosent care. And once you have tripped over your third bramble branch thingy, he stops in the middle of a clearing and looks at you.
You know ‘The look’ right? The one that says ‘now i have you right where i want you muawhawhawhawh!’ (that’s an evil laugh btw).
Then he orders you to drop your jeans and grasp your ankles, and you gulp….loudly. This isn’t fair, it can’t be happening, not to you…you’ve been sooooooo good all weekend. Then his fingers are at your waistband…struggling with the jean buttons and you realize that this is actually going to happen. Soooo, being the big brave woman you are (Emile Pankhurst eat your heart out), you nudge his fingers away and snap the buttons yourself…it saves time. Of course you glance up at him through kitten eyes and stick that bottom lip out…but he is resolved…and you know this because he fingers his belt meaningfully.

Then comes the order to bend over, grasping your ankles and do not move one inch. Do you guys know how hard it is to keep that position…even indoors the first whack will have us rocking!
But your a good subbie, so you do as he says without question (and jeans are at ankles so running is futile), and just to make it harder..once you are bent over he insists that you can go lower and that bottom can stick out more. Which you roll eyes at (he can’t see so its safe) and grip lower down…and straighten your legs so your bum sticks out, and just as you settle into position….

Oh my giddy aunt that stings like a bitch! The first one is the mother of all! And its worse because you know he will never stop at one. 2,3,4 & 5 follow in quick succession and you whimper and hiss but never ever move…because that would be downright stupid. He has full rights to start over if you move. Then comes 6, and 6 is a real doozy because it lands on the inside of your cheeks catching a rather sensitive part! If there were any birds in those trees…….or animals scuttling around they are gone now….you sounded like a wounded animal yourself! And you moved!
Your Sir is a very kind man, he just added an extra 6 rather than starting again (same thing???) so those come down rather quickly too and when the 12th lands you sigh with relief, its over. You made it.

Then you feel a sudden breeze where you really shouldn’t feel any breeze at all!!!!!! He bloody did! Ooooh you just know he’s got a Cheshire grin now. Suddenly you feel an intense appreciation for knickers.
Then it burns…lots….and bloody hell he got the bits again…you are sure he’s just aiming for them now, he must be, no man can be that accurate 3 times in a row! You grip your ankles that much harder cos bloody hell does this hurt!
Your bare bum wriggles from side to side as you try to shake the sting out…its futile but you try anyway…of course this brings newer ..stingier problems of its own…like much clearer access to the bits (even though secretly you hope he does hit them…your not sure why it just feels good when he does).
But no, he has decided that your sit spot will get the final three, and what a final three they are. Lovely, intense, hot, burning, tingling, you moved on purpose didn’t you! 2 extra for that!

It’s over. You survived.
You stay in position as he examines (or you think that’s what he’s doing), then he puts his coat on the ground and kneels on it with one knee while making a box with the other which he orders you to bend over it.
This means putting your hands on the wet ground with your bum high up over his thigh. It’s ok though, he’s just taking a close examination and rubbing it better ….mmmmm.
Then you look down (from where you are bent over) and there’s a slug between your fingers!!

Categories: Real Life, Sir, Spanking, Underwear | 2 Comments