Cruisin' for a Bruising...

For the last few months I've been AWOL from this blog, and quiet on other formerly frequent haunts across the kinkosphere. It's not that it's been a kink-free time completely; I could have written about what an amazing time I had at the Lowewood Academy boarding school weekend back in May, about beginning to dip my toes and make friends on the Australian scene or about starting to play with someone new. However, it hasn't quite felt right and I haven't been in the right place so I've stayed quiet. All in it's been a very tough few months with a lot of challenging trips overseas, a few unpleasant incidents over here, too many courses of antibiotics and a lot of emotional upheaval, a lot of which I haven't wanted or felt able to share.

Things are slowly changing for the better, bizarrely following something awful (that I don't want to talk about) happening last month. I was horrified, upset and a lot of other things, both by what happened and the reactions of others but then something good happened...I got angry. Angry at how badly things ended with my ex, angry about all the shit that's happened in the last six months, angry at how some people have treated me, angry at Australia, angry at the world. Somehow that flipped something inside my head and a part of me that's been buried for a while awoke and declared war, because letting all the shit that's been going down ruin my life would be letting the world win. And that is not Rebecca's way.

Don't worry though folks, I have resisted the urge to acquire a brazier and burn the place down but mentally have been feeling a lot better. I've been back in Aus for two and a half weeks now, which is the longest I've spent in one place since January and finally seem to have kicked the flu that's been snapping at my heels for so long. It's also given me a chance to get out and socialise and just enjoy simple pleasures like actually working in my office, getting into a bit of a pattern, and being at home for long enough to make it worth stocking the fridge.

I've also found a new love in roller derby, which I think may be the ultimate sport...it's a team sport, it's full contact and you get to wear cute outfits involving knee socks, fishnets and short shorts - how could this not be made of win?! It feels good to be throwing myself into something again, more like me than I've felt in a long time. There is something strangely comforting about the awkward feeling of turning up and knowing nobody, the physical challenges of starting a new sport, the camaraderie, the joy of being part of a league, the whoops of 'nice fall London' when something goes awry. Mentally I enjoy teaching my body new things and adapting to a new discipline and the subsequent sense of a achievement. I'm not sure jumping over things in roller skates is an essential life skill, but it is a lot of fun. Then there's the fear, the delicious pressure of upcoming testing, silently wondering if I'm better or worse than the other freshies, wondering who will be first to bout...I've missed it.

It has all got me thinking though that maybe for the last couple of years kink has taken up too big a part of my life at the expense of other things. When a recurrent injury stopped me rowing perhaps I should have been quicker to find something new - there was a spate of pole dancing, another of martial arts but nothing serious or regular. Perhaps kinky socialising became too much of a part of my life, I was still busy with work and panto and seeing vanilla friends but maybe the balance was a bit wrong, or maybe it's just that now is the right time to indulge in some shameless athletic masochism. It made me laugh that the shorts above I found on a derby website would also suit many of my spanking friends - it's all about the synergies in life!

Whatever, I'm just looking forward to feeling confident enough again to skate around in tiny hotpants! And hopefully getting a bit better at this whole jumping in rollerskates malarkey...

Oh, and there is more to tell about kink-plorations down under, but that can wait for another day :)

Corner Time

"But you don't stand still...ever!"

Was my best friend's confused comment as I tried to explain a little more about what I was 'into'. Some of what we do is difficult for vanillas to grasp, particularly when it's not especially sexual and falls more into the 'DS' than the 'B' or 'SM' aspects of what we do. We've been talking quite a lot about it recently - she's going through some hard times with her partner and our occasional phone catch-ups have become much more regular. As I'm stressed out for different reasons it's been cathartic to talk to someone who knows me inside out for me as well.

We somehow ended up agreeing to talk about different bits of what I'm 'into' so she could understand and also because she's curious. I'm wondering if a pervert may be lurking in there somewhere but won't say more than that.

It was easy enough for her to understand some things. The spankings and canings and other painful pursuits make sense to her as another way of expressing the masochistic side of me that she knew well in sporting arenas. She gets why I'd enjoy fet clubbing and joked that after spending half my working life covered from head to toe in foreign countries it wasn't surprising that I needed to let my hair down - and our group were hardly shy about going out without much on anyway. The control thing she gets a little bit and understands that I need a man who can stand up to me be 'in charge' in the bedroom but questions things going beyond that. As an ex-history student she also understands why I'd enjoy role-playing but found some of it a bit strange (explaining a Victorian reformatory to anyone non-kinky is an amusing challenge if you're ever bored!).

Somehow though we really got stuck on the subject of 'corner time'. It's not something that happens very often or a huge kink of mine but she really fixated on it. A lot of it was not understanding the benefit for either me or the person enforcing it - it's not sexy or physical to an outsider and I think that makes it harder to understand. We talked a lot about the symbolism and also concept of reflecting before being punished and the humiliation factor as it's quite a juvenile position. How it can be an opportunity to swap from a bratty or 'high' head space into something calmer and more obedient and other things like that. That it's a way for a dominant to take control of the situation on their terms rather than necessarily dealing with something straight away.

She had a lot of sideways questions about how did people ensure that you really stayed in the corner. I shared the comic example of a Dom I'd played with quite early on who had made me hold a ping pong ball against the wall with my nose so I couldn't move at all. Unfortunately I'd sneezed, jumped in shock and accidentally kicked the ball which had dropped into a corner and behind the sofa. It was entirely unintentional but got me into trouble and she'd collapsed into fits of giggles as that was a very 'me' thing to do. I neglected to tell her about the occasion whilst role playing when myself and another girl had carefully shuffled out of the corner whilst the Dom wasn't watching as I didn't think it would help.

I'm still not sure how much she 'got' it in the end, although she was very fixated on the idea of me standing still bizarrely!

Airport lounge discipline

I'm off on my travels again with work. It's not too glamorous - 18 hour journeys in economy that leave you dying for a shower and a sleep (but what I do is worthwhile so it's ok). One of the pluses is that we can access the business lounges at airports so if we're in transit we can recharge laptops and chill out a bit. My membership card's only just arrived so I was very excited as I bounced off my horrid night flight and went in search of the lounge - and felt very pleased with myself as I settled myself down with a coffee, orange juice and some museli on a nice big sofa.

There were 'no sleeping' signs on all the sofas but it was pretty quiet so I commandeered one as I checked my email. Then stretched out on it, then lay all the way down and had a bit of a snooze only to be woken by someone telling me that was against the rules. It would have seemed rather apt if they gave overly dozy girls a spanking to ensure that they wouldn't fall asleep again - and with the view over the airport would have been quite a cool place to play. Sadly not, though I did charm the man into getting a diet coke for me to 'wake me up'...

Back to School

For real rather than play for once. Having sorrowfully graduated, packed my bags, bought a suit and moved to London for a grown-up job three years ago it's more than a little surreal. I'm not full-time, as my job is 5 days a week (and more when I'm travelling) it's just one evening a week for three hours, plus at least as much reading again. All in all pretty manageable but when you factor in the job, friends, exercising, coaching and music making I have some worries about whether I'll make time.

Despite involving a manic dash across town after work and increasing fixation on dinner as the class progresses the whole process is quite nostalgic. Repeatedly going back to the union to see if my card was ready, photocopying journals in the library at lunchtime, hiding the last copy of the book I wanted because my library card hadn't come through (naughty by necessary), taking the piss out of the really annoying girl in the class, stocking up on shiny new highlighters, pens and paper - lots of things. The deadline deja-vu hasn't arisen yet as the first essay isn't due for weeks - a huge difference from my first degree when I was expected to churn out 3,000 words three times in two weeks! I am fully anticipating that I will still procrastinate gloriously over it though!

Another big difference is that I'll be in trouble if I don't do the reading or make deadlines - with the boy interest off to study to be a Master (ho ho) a long way away we've made some rules. I'm determined to be good and keep *that* particular rule as the course is something I really want to do for me...as for some of the others...we'll see...rules and Rebecca have a somewhat rocky relationship (hence the blog title). Still it is rather brave of him - the first guy who spanked me in my last year at Uni didn't dare impose rules around me studying, not that I'd have let him if he'd wanted to! It does feel a little like I'm living in interesting times as rules and me don't tend to mix but I think it's important to have some to help us maintain our dynamic over a distance - I'll probably live to regret it!

Love your curves...

I am not renowned for loving my body. Not that there's anything significantly wrong with it, it's just not quite as teeny tiny and muscle bound as I was in the height of my sporting days, when my mother used to jokingly refer to me as 'the hipless wonder'. It's also a 'girl thing' as by nature we're never happy with our bodies - we want bigger boobs, smaller boobs, more curves, less curves, hate our wonky little toe.

Having just got back from a few lovely days in the sun with the boy interest, which were mostly spent on the beach or by the pool I am feeling a hundred times better about my body. It's bizarre what a bit of sun and being justified in walking about in a bikini and tiny sarong and posing as a mermaid on rocks can do for your confidence. Enjoying your body reminds you why you love it, much like the glow you get after a good workout in the gym. The government should clearly prescribe beach holidays for all those with confidence issues...immediately!

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 :)

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.

Cocks, Condoms and sickly bunnies

I have been a bit remiss in posting as I have been a sickly bunny and totally excelled myself in managing to come down with the flu in a big way whilst in Bangkok. Everyone is swine flu mad here so spent most of yesterday at the hospital where after some time it was established that I have normal flu, not swine flu - panic over! However me and my friend came up with something quite funny - they are also still a bit paranoid about bird flu here and she commented that it would almost be worth getting both as then you could say that you had flying pig flu! Can you imagine the headlines?!


We went to the best restaurant ever - it is run by a charity offering HIV and sexual health services and called Cabbages and Condoms. There are whole people, flowers and statues made out of condoms and they give you a condom instead of a mint at the end of the meal. I'm wondering if we could start a similar model in the UK - Steaks and Spankings in aid of the education of delinquent girls?


I'm in Bangkok - which is a silly name as it is but was still a bit surprised to find a stall near my hotel that literally sold wooden cocks. I am debating buying one as a comedy souvenir for a friend but am not quite sure how I'd fare getting it through customs or quite how I'd explain the purchase to my colleagues if they somehow saw it! There is also a large billboard advertising 'The future of masturbation' which is some sort of male sex aid, various female arousal aids where chewing gum would normally sit in the supermarket and condoms in my hotel bathroom! It's probably just as well I'm feeling sickly otherwise I'd probably be able to think of nothing but sex all week!

I have seen some other potentially kinky purchases though - particularly super cute hair bows that would go down a treat with 'school friends' and some rather interesting underwear. I'm not sure about that though - I'm not a big girl but still bigger than most Thais! Am still in search of suitable implements but we are going to the weekend market hopefully on Saturday so maybe I'll find something then...

Wanderlust...

As a teenager I was obsessed with the idea of travelling. Not cruises, 5 star hotels or trips to New York though - I devoured travel literature and dreamt of turning up in strange and exotic places with just a backpack and my dreams. Bangkok, Annapurna, Kathmandu, Bhutan, Machu Picchu, Zanzibar and Mozambique were all places that haunted me. I remember sitting around a campfire at Leeds Festival age 15 listening with rapture to a couple of guys talk about backpacking around South East Asia whilst a girl with dreads laughed and called it the tourist trail and talked about overlanding in Africa. I was wildly jealous and begged my parents to let me go the following summer but was met with a sharp no.

I spent my A-level years working a bizarre array of jobs to save up for my gap year, which was spent volunteering in South America and Malawi (I taught at a school and lived in a little hut nearby where being woken up by monkeys running across the roof was the norm). Whilst at university I managed a couple of shorter trips and dreamt of working for a charity abroad and making the world a better place.

Then the reality of student debts kicked in, coupled with the horrible realisation that I wasn't really qualified to do anything terribly useful - my teenage dreams of building refugee camps were a little unrealistic to say the least. So I did the boring corporate thing for a couple of years and hated it.

Now I am working for a charity that operates in the developing world and am off to Bangkok today to run a capacity building workshop. I'm struggling a little with the concepts of staying in a hotel, airport transfers, travelling with a case and packing suits. I mean what's that all about? I remember arriving in Bangkok four years ago in my second year of university and filled with excitement. I was meeting a friend who'd been working in Australia and who wouldn't arrive for a couple of days and flew in on the red eye, arriving early in the morning. I battled my way past the touts offering taxis and air conditioned mini buses and caught a packed local bus, got off at the wrong place but finally found my way to Khao San Road, which had been somewhere of mythical acclaim to my teenage self.

It was quiet - nothing much is happening at 7am and I remember being a little disappointed - it was all rather touristy but spending twenty minutes arguing with someone and finally taking a room in a bog standard hostel. I slept for about an hour then was off exploring. The photo above is one of my favourite 'me' photos. We were only in Thailand for a couple of days (too touristy) then headed off to Vietnam.

So it's strange to be going back in a 'business' capacity. However, what I'm doing is really valuable - these days international development has accepted that actually the locals are far more qualified to build their schools and clinics than we are and charities focus on skills training and capacity building - which is what I'm off to do. I'm still packing my flipflops and thai pants though and hoping I'll escape for a few hours at some point. Apparently there is a phallic temple - I'll try to get pictures.

Sorry that this post hasn't been about spanking at all but I will have lots of time in hotel rooms and airport lounges to muse on that. :) But you may not hear too much from me for a day or two!

Run Fat Girl Run...

Also known as blind stupidity meets latent masochism. I have just entered myself into the Royal Parks Half Marathon in aid of a very worthwhile charity (subject to my place being confirmed). Given I haven't run that far for five year I suspect this may be somewhat stupid but my 'must save the World' radar has come into play, which is always dangerous! I am running for a charity that sets up sport and play programmes to enhance the lives of children in the developing world who have been affected by poverty, war and disease so it's also very worthwhile.

It's also far enough to be a real challenge at my current level of fitness so will be a bit of a test, which I think is important if you're asking people to sponsor you. I can feel the shin splints already :-$

So bring on the motivational stickies on my bedroom wall! My mind is also drawn to the scene in 'Run Fat Boy Run' where Simon Pegg is chased by his coach on a moped who whacks him when he doesn't run fast enough...any volunteers?!

On friends and frolics...

Well peeps has been a very very busy few days catching up with friends, partying, playing and general all-round sparklyness and fun. Am a bit too tired to say anything more profound than I feel very lucky to have such fantastic friends (of all varieties - vanilla, raspberry ripple and even mint choc chip) and to be both basking in the glow of fabulous fun with nilla friends and have stripes from playing with lovely friends last night. One of whom has thankfully forgiven me for extreme lack of tact, which is even more lucky. Also to have met some great new players and all round nice people who will hopefully become friends, partners in crime or involved in the resulting struggle to make us behave...Thanks to wonderful people who made things happen, fed me yummy food and played with me :)

Too sleepy to say anything too much about play or fabulousness but am rather proud of this photo - who says ball gowns and bouncy castles don't mix?

Threats and promises...

Have just got back from dinner with a vanilla friend who knows about my proclivities (though only because my ex told him in a fit of pique) and whilst catching up we were bantering about it a bit. I commented that I had nightmares about my parallel lives running into each other at some point, and he grinned and commented that it might happen sooner than I thought, to which I reacted by asking if he wanted to come play (we had just been discussing house boys) to which his response was.

"Oh no, I'd want to deal with you - you have no idea how long you've had it coming!"

Which made me blush and change the topic quickly. Am not sure I could cope with the headfuck of someone I've known for years in a vanilla context spanking me...

I am also in trouble. Again (she says trying to sound sorry!). This time for sending my boy interest a photo of me all dressed up in my corset, stocking and non-existent skirt whilst out clubbing on Saturday. Apparently teases get dealt with...severely. He is such a lovely boy!

A gap in the market?

I've just returned from a rather lovely day at a spa so am feeling all floaty and lovely. They had some rather interesting treatments which included a Japanese Salt Steam room which was supposed to be particularly good for boosting the respiratory system, a tropical shower to improve circulation, an ice fountain which was apparently good for your skin (I was not convinced) and an Indian Blossom Steam Room which was supposed to deeply relax and soothe your nerves. Not to mention the rather bizarre Zen meditation room for relaxation which featured water dropping off the ceiling or the Greek Herbal Bath which didn't involve water!

This got me thinking about other treatments they might offer - what about

A sound caning to increase focus

A firm over the knee spanking in aid of posterior circulation

A nice tight hogtie to increase flexibility

A gently birching to bring colour to your cheeks

Hot waxplay to moisturise the skin

What do you think folks? Is there market mileage in the spankos spa?

Working overtime...

I dedicate quite a lot of my spare time to coaching a certain sport that is surely beloved of many bdsm-aficionados as it involves lots of strokes, not to mention cox-boxes and a degree of inherent masochism.

I've been planning a seminar on race psychology and motivation during stressful times (in this case many of my coachees' exams) and somehow my brain has wandered from more traditional content such as time management onto somewhat pervier avenues...late for training, take that many strokes of the paddle...slower than your last test piece? That'll be a good spanking then.

The only problem being that I'd have loved a certain one of my coaches to spank me when I was competing myself. I remember almost falling over my feet in excitement on one occasion when this particular object of my affections sent my team up to the gym and ordered us to get out the canes...sadly it wasn't quite what I hoped for and they were put to a most boring and mundane use...though I still have fantasies about a darkened training hall on a wet night after an unproductive session. I was the last girl to leave, having wearily dragged myself through the shower and into my tracksuit for the slog home.

"A moment Rebecca, we need to discuss your concentration during that session. Wait here whilst I find my cane..."

First Post, First Spanking

A first post, always a horrible thing to write. I suppose this is where I'm supposed to try to make myself sound fascinating and charm the world, or something like that. Rarely an easy thing to do so instead I'm going to write about my first spanking, the one which probably catalysed my subsequent descent into becoming a bit of a deviant. And more surprisingly a submissive.

Looking back there were definitely warning signs. The somewhat bizarre hobbies that saw me whacking and getting whacked with thick rattan sticks (yes, there is a sport involving that), that I preferred sports with a distinctive masochistic streak, preferably coupled with sadistic instructors. A fledgling sex life that had seen me doing it outside, inside with the lights on and once kneeling on the floor whilst the poor boy attempted to write an essay. It was probably only a matter of time before someone recognised the need to take me in hand.

That someone was a boyfriend in my final year of university. I didn't pursue him, he chased me, I remember a friend asking me 'who that was' once when he stopped to flirt with me in town and shrugging as I didn't have a clue. In the end I consented to a date, he took me somewhere nice and then shocked me by choosing a wine from the menu without even asking me, not the second to cheapest either. I wasn't sure whether to be outraged or impressed but actually thought it was very sexy, he clearly knew what he wanted.

What he wanted, it turned out was me. To my friends' surprise we started going out (in those days I wasn't really the commitment type) and pretty soon were having a lot of sex. And doing all the cute clichéd stuff like going for picnics, to the movies or for late dinners after we'd both finished training. It was one of those evenings that it happened, he had the misfortune to be doing a somewhat comic PhD and I used to tease him mercilessly about it. We were lounging on the grass enjoying the last of the sun and I pushed it an inch too far, he rolled over and smacked my bottom hard.

"When we get home I'm giving you a good spanking."

"But you can't, I'm the athletics club captain."

Suffice to say he could, and did. Apparently that my argument consisted of why he couldn't spank me as opposed to threats to call the police or claims that he was a pervert convinced him he'd get away with it. We finished the picnic and wandered back to his flat, where we went into his bedroom, he sat on the bed and beckoned me over his lap. I insisted that he couldn't, he told me to shut up and bizarrely instead of slapping him or storming out I ended up over his lap.

Thirty seconds later my knickers were around my knees as he proceeded to give me exactly what he'd threatened earlier on - a good spanking. I was utterly mortified, even though it didn't really hurt and proceeded to exhort exactly why he couldn't do what he was doing. He pushed my head into the covers; I stopped whining and about a minute later he stopped. It hadn't hurt that much but psychologically was a big step for both of us. Then I remember him laughing wickedly as he pushed me onto my back and felt between my legs and pretending to be outraged ceased to be an option.

Afterwards I felt quite confused. I was strong and independent so why had I liked it, or even allowed him to spank me? Thankfully I had the courage to step away from the rules of the sexual status quo and explore, though not the wisdom to learn when to avoid pushing my luck...I'm actually thankful for that too.

So there you go, my first spanking. No whips, no canes, no chains, no tears; all of that was still to come. But a rather beautiful beginning :)