Minxyness

It has been a bit of a playtastic weekend (she says with a smile). On Friday evening the boy interest and some other friends of ours went to the London Munch. I was wearing a very short skirt, though not the shortest one I own. To prove that it was short Jessica and the boy interest started slapping the fronts of my thighs in the busy pub and this somehow morphed into a competition to see who could leave the best handprint. Sadly they were both trounced by another good friend, Lady Emma who won 'hands down' with this rather impressive print!

Things went downhill from there (or uphill in the case of my skirt). An acquaintance of Jessica's then proceeded to beat me across the bottom with his walking stick, though thankfully not very hard. He then commented on the marks on my thighs and the boy interest chivalrously demanded that I give him some 'fresh flesh'. This led to me standing blushing furiously in the pub as the random man ordered me to spread my thighs and then smacked the insides really hard. Then the boy interest smacked me again for good measure. The marks are rather impressive - lots of fingerprints. Let's hope they're gone by the time I go on holiday next week!

The boy interest and I staggered home (this was accompanied by much moaning over sore feet from me) and were very pleased that my school skirt had arrived. I tried it on and he spanked me pretty hard, I think this may have been for being a bit late for dinner but don't actually remember (ahem!). The skirt is very cute though. Then we cuddled up and did some other things, all a good start to my much needed three day weekend. More about the rest of the weekend later...

Reaffirmation

I have noted a 'positive' for the feeling more grown-up, namely that it's bought back some of the self-confidence that has suffered a bit during a nightmare couple of years. That in turn has me racing after life's technicolour goodness and the training for the half-marathon has taken a huge leap forward. Suddenly I don't just want food, I want good food. I don't just want to exercise I want to go through the pain barrier and send my heart rate skyrocketing into the 200s and I don't want that to somewhat reluctantly match my training plan - I want to do it every day. I don't just want to go out, I want to see and do new exciting things. I want life's brightest and boldest colours right now.

So that's the vanilla side - I have bored you all a lot recently with oodles of vanilla ice cream and a bit of kinky coulis, largely because I don't really have two personas - I'm me and different aspects come out at different times. Part of the reason that I wanted to start a blog was to create a record of how it all comes together and what I'm thinking and feeling at the time, and to give myself a platform for some of my pervy fiction (which I'm being a bit shy about right now). Therefore if what I'm thinking about is mostly vanilla that's what you'll get I'm afraid...but I do promise you some splendid filth soon - I've just been a bit preoccupied with not getting shot.

AAaannyway, there are all these cravings for the afore mentioned vanilla things - athletic masochism (which will always be a favourite flavour of mine), good food, music, theatre, quality time with friends, walks in pretty places with trees and flowers. Thankfully my kinky motor has gone into hyperdrive too, which has resulted in far too much time spent looking for new school uniform and corsets. Exciting news for all girls - Tammy now do a 'gorgeously generous' range which has the same heights but bigger hips and waists - apparently I'm the equivalent of a generous 12/13yr old (hurrah!). New school skirt alert! I suppose at least one good thing has come out of kids getting bigger.

My play cravings are also returning. The boy interest and I played last weekend and he was giving me a 'jokey' punishment that he actually intended for me to enjoy as a bit of a 'welcome home'. Some yummy play followed and he finished with the cane and I kept being like 'no it's ok, you can hit me harder than that and I'll still like it' which was quite funny. I had some pretty stripes. I am also having the urge to be a bit experimental and explore things that I've been curious about but not engaged with in the past - more rope work, needles and some more head-fuckery seem particularly appealing. I also quite want to do some heavier scenes and push myself because I feel a bit safer about potentially allowing people to break me a little bit, which is something that can be very powerful, very hot but also quite intimidating. So feeling more Rebecca like in general helps with knowing that underneath I'm grounded and will find it hot afterwards, something which isn't always the case when you're feeling a bit down.

Basically I want rainbow colours right now :)

When I grew up

It's been a funny couple of months - not so much a storm as seemingly living in the middle of a tornado. A new job, which finally is worthwhile and has real purpose but has seen me take in four countries in the last five weeks and dumped me back down feeling washed out, if ultimately pleased. Throw in a few scary situations - a shooting outside the hotel, machine guns on every street corner, dodgy people and coping with the culture shock and jet lag of doing London and back several times and I'm a little bit broken.

It also feels like suddenly I've grown up a lot almost over night. It was when running that night in the gym that the realisation hit me. I felt pretty angry but stood my ground and did my session, staring myself down in the mirror facing the treadmill. I've watched myself sweat my way through numerous sports sessions over the years but this felt quite weird and a bit like I didn't know the girl staring back at me so well any more. Somehow, somewhere she'd grown up and it's a bit scary. I'm finally doing what I've always wanted to do and making a difference, and when those two little girls got on the treadmills and started running when I'd finished I felt proud, even if their father did make them stop. I don't think I quite bargained that it would all make me feel older though and am feeling a little bit sad.

I think I shall have to take it an excuse to plot lots of fun and mischief and debauchery though - to just let go...

Bad Rebecca...

Between travelling with work and attempting to recover I have not had time to post but fear not people I have not been shot, kidnapped or sold into white slavery (phew!). In the meantime if you haven't seen it go and book tickets for Avenue Q immediately - the most brilliant, funny and true show I have seen in a while. The boy interest and I went on Friday and I want to go again.

After all...

The internet is FOR PORN...

I wish I could go back to college...

Everyone's a little bit unsatisfied...

YEAH!

Yes I am a girl - get over it

Aka 'Girls Run Too' or

'Breaking the Gender Rules'

Soooo I am in a rather scary conservative Muslim country peeps. So much that I have purchased long skirts and baggy tops to wear (anyone who knows me will confirm that this is very out of character!) and am wandering around with a headscarf on. Despite this I still look very British but at least not as bizarre as I would in a burkha!

I decided that I needed to do some running training as I have my half marathon coming up. The promised 'fitness centre' at my slightly dodgy hotel was apparently 'broken' so they gave me a card to go for free to a hotel down the road to use the gym, which was apparently five minutes but took more like fifteen. An interesting exchange took place when I explained why I was there and got the reaction "You want to exercise? But you are a woman!" which I would hope was fairly obvious. Much conferring followed and in the end they agreed to let me. Then I asked about changing rooms (which had been promised by my hotel when they sent me there) and got the response of 'No not for fatimas' which also wasn't terribly helpful. In the end they let me change in the room a lady used to give massages, making me feel pretty seedy and a bit concerned about possible concealed cameras!

Heading into the gym which was a couple of treadmills and a broken exercise bike with pool and football tables and lots of lechy men behind me I almost turned back but felt it would be wrong to do so and rather like letting myself down. Plus in letting myself down I'd be letting down all the women who couldn't run because of their repressive culture. So I got on the treadmill and started running, feeling horribly aware of all the eyes boring into my back, bottom and the rest of me. Then I got angry - after all who are these guys to impose their values on me and restrict their women from doing so many things and got into a mode where I wasn't just running to clock up miles for my half marathon, I was running to make a point. Then it got a lot easier and I found myself in a mindset I've missed since giving up my beloved rowing due to injuries that I was running not against myself but against the World, and got high on the feeling of pushing my body harder than is probably wise and transcended the stuffy, hot and downright dodgy room.

I finished and stretched off and could have cheered when two little girls whose father was working on the door got on the treadmills in their traditional clothing and started running and giggling. Then their father made them stop. But if I've shown two little girls that girls can run too I feel like I've achieved far more than just clocking yet another session. So that's one positive thing this week!

They saw me coming...

Last night I stopped over in Dubai en route to another work destination, this time in the Middle East. I have to say that I was exceptionally impressed by the hotel's attention to detail and efforts to ensure that every guest felt at home. For not only was I upgraded to a suite but it came complete with it's own spanking bench! Clearly the hotel go beyond the call of duty to make sure that guests feel at home! There were also numerous cushions on the bed, including a bolster that would be just perfect for propping under a girl's tummy as she knelt on the bench - could a hotel spanking set up be much more perfect?


Sadly I only had eight hours to enjoy the suite (and bed, which was bigger than my entire bedroom at home!) because I had to catch an early flight onto my final destination this morning. This unfortunate timing meant that I missed my complimentary spanker, who would normally visit ones room to administer a firm spanking designed to ward off any homesick feelings a girl might have. The administration of traditional Arab implements following this would obviously be entirely optional! I did feel a little bit sad though because I had this fabulous huge suite, with a living room that would seat about six people and no one to share it with or do rude things in the huge bed with...sigh! However, there is another kinky connection in my current location - the local brand of bottled water is called 'Bared'! Ahem!

Greedy or adventurous?

I've been thinking a bit recently about the differences between vanilla and kinky, between heterosexual and heteroflexible and the distinction between monogamy and more 'open options'. Bizarrely this was all bought on by evening meals on my work trip, because whenever we had dessert my colleague would always order plain vanilla ice cream. I worked my way though a coffee wafer basket, a 'Williams' which consisted of pear sorbet and cinnamon ice cream with marshmallows and red wine pear compote and chocolate flakes and a chocolate sundae. My colleague steadfastly insisted that vanilla was the best...I countered that it was boring and he pointed out that at least he knew what he was getting...

This got me thinking a bit - was I just being greedy? Would a few scoops of vanilla have satisfied me as much as my assorted choices? Would my life have been a little bit less full without experiencing pear sorbet and cinnamon with all the wonderful trimmings? It may make me greedy and extravagant and lots of other things but I think it would have been. I mean vanilla's nice enough but at it's best when offset with dark chocolate and cherries if you ask me...or rhubarb and apple crumble...or...

All the vanilla analysis got me thinking about sex and play and other things. I'm most definitely not vanilla - there are some flavours I avoid (liquorice and bubblegum spring to mind) but on the whole I like a mix. Definitely kinky. I love nice vanilla sex with all the cuddling and stroking and looking into each others eyes but I also love the hair twisting, head jerking, forceful sex after a heavy play that's anything but vanilla.

The other thing is I mostly fancy boys. I can't actually imagine myself in a relationship with a girl but sometimes it's fun to kiss or do rude things with girls. I view myself as heteroflexible not bisexual - I mostly like men but occasionally girls too. Is that being greedy? Or indecisive?

There's also the whole monogamy issue. I don't think I could commit to more than one person emotionally, so I think in terms of the emotional love issues I am monogamous. That doesn't mean that I don't want to play or do rude things with other people though, the ivory tower just isn't for me. The way I see it is that playing with other people adds to the fun and pleasure rather than taking it away from what you might have with your partner and you can both benefit.

I don't think I'm greedy...I think I'm just adventurous and open and in favour of anything that is fun and pleasurable and doesn't hurt anybody else (in a bad way). Surely that's not such a bad thing?

Imperial Dreams

I am feeling rather pleased with myself - I may have worked about 60 hours this week but I have finished - which gives me tomorrow to explore exciting city rather than going back to the office. To celebrate we went out for dinner at a totally fabulous hotel, which in the glory days was the peak of Imperial hospitality and hobnobbing. It was also quite simply beautiful, with many of the period features still in tact.

All of this got me thinking that those walls must have seen some interesting sights in their time...

- The spanking of the sulky daughter of an ambassador of a distant province the night before she enters the International School in the capital. Angry and resentful, she would rather stay at home where she is cared for by a maid than go back to her strict school, ran in the traditional English way with traditional English punishments...

- Some rather unorthodox disciplinary measures for a young female attache in the late Imperial period...perhaps for behaving inappropriately at one of the great banquets that were served at the hotel, drinking too much, flirting with important politicians?

- Numerous chastisement's and corrections for the hotel maids - the hotel had exceedingly high standards and only the very best would do and any failure to perform would be punished in the traditional English manner...

Yum. Am all floaty and dreamy imagining congresses between Mountbatten and Ghandi, sumptuous dinners and the such like.

Dirty minds and dark thoughts

So I am off on my travels again with work. Rather dodgy hotel and my boss is driving me absolutely insane (I can cope for 8 hours a day but 24 is threatening my sanity!). However I have seen a few signs that made me snigger...

'HORN PLEASE' is plastered all over the cars and vans here. Am feeling a slightly sex starved so I know exactly what they mean...

There are also 'STDS @50p/min' on offer, which is more than a little bizarre. 50ps here is less than 1p in the UK. I'm pretty sure it must be some sort of telecoms or something but it's a bit odd seeing it on banners all over the place!

Aaaannnyway, it's not been the smoothest of trips thus far. I ordered fresh cut fruit this evening and it came coated in curry powder - eewwww! One thing I find is that the more stressed and bizarre I am feeling the darker my dreams get. I am less interested in nice good-girl spankings or sweet scenes and want something darker, almost more elemental. When I feel like this the vision is invariably inclusive of stormy weather, or cliffs or heavy metal chains.

I'm a girl in a terribly abusive workhouse, complete with obstinate streak that ensures I'm always in trouble despite being beaten until I cry on a regular basis.
Or harsh punishments for real life stuff that I'd really hate.
I'm a girl locked in the dungeons of a medieval castle at the whim of my father's enemy who really, truly wants to hurt me (but stops short of permanent damage - honour and all that).
I'm at a terribly cruel finishing school where I'm regularly punished and humiliated for my own good.

All the types of scenes that are generally not my first pick. So it's a bit strange when I find myself craving this sort of scene, scenes where I break and have no control over the situation. We all have our dark sides and it's interesting what they bring out, even if I'm not too sure where I'll go with it...

Meet Dorothea...

Jessica recently posted about plotting for Lord Fawcett's annual house party, for which she is the glamourous hostess. I am very excited to be attending as last year was a really incredible experience. She has posted about her character, Mrs Juliet Derby so I thought I would post about mine, not least because I am travelling with work again and sitting in a very dodgy hotel with jetlag so not feeling too creative!

Last year I was a very highly ranked Lady, who also had a lot of money and managed to be both American, so educated at one of their progressive universities and next in line for an Earldom. This year I have decided to create a character that is less highly ranked and also a little less controversial. So meet Dorothea...or in full The Honourable Miss Dorothea Latimer

Dorothea is the only daughter of Lord Augustus Latimer, the Baron of Radcliffe. Whilst the family is not terribly powerful, the Latimers are extremely rich. Dorothea’s grandfather invested heavily in trade with the Far East, importing silks, cotton and spices that delighted London’s fashionable crowd. Her father is hoping that this wealth will secure a match for Dorothea with a suitably titled gentleman to enhance the family’s prestige.

Dorothea is naturally vivacious and of an excitable disposition. A talented harpist, she also loves to dance and attend the theatre (only suitable titles for a young lady of course). She enjoys a generous allowance and frequents the most fashionable new arcades and boutiques in search of the latest styles. Dorothea is also heavily involved in the Benevolent Ladies Association headed by Mrs Drummond Burrel and recently coordinated a project which knitted five hundred pairs of socks for poor orphans. Largely ignored by her father, she is the apple of her Grandfather’s eye and enchanted by his tales of distant lands.

Dorothea’s mother passed away giving birth to her fourth brother Charles when she was four. As the only girl Dorothea’s education has largely mirrored that of her brothers, meaning that she can sometimes be prone to unladylike behaviour. Her father has recently secured the services of a Governess to prepare Dorothea for coming out later this summer, as it would not do for people to whisper that she was badly brought up. On the whole Dorothea is sweet and mild mannered but she can be somewhat outspoken and prone to outlandish thoughts, though she is learning the consequences of this can be painful.

Dorothea is honoured to have been invited to Lord Fawcett’s House Party, and well aware that she must be on her best behaviour to attract a suitable match. To this end her grandfather has asked his friend Mrs Derby to act as her chaperone, feeling that Dorothea would enjoy her tales of the Americas and relate more ably to a younger and forward-looking chaperone. Dorothea is greatly looking forward to meeting the other guests, especially the young gentlemen.