Tuesday, 8 July 2008

Summer Holiday

I am off on a long holiday so this is my last blog post for this month. I will be back in August. No time for blogging for me during holiday and I will even be cut off from the Web so if I don't reply to comments, please, don't think I have abandoned you!

Sometimes I see a fantasy situation as a scene in my head and it is not always obvious who I am in it. Mostly I know but sometimes I tend to see it from the outside and then it is easy to start wondering what this and that participant is thinking. I am a bit of a switch and writing makes it possible to explore that.

I may be a little preoccupied by this but I am always curious of what happens inside the head of people in my fantasies. In stories I read there is a bit of what happens with the spankee, there is some butterflies in tummies and some mixed feelings of fear, anticipation and arousal. But I have noticed that there is very little from the spankers point of view. Spankers seem to be busy figuring out ways of getting this or that gorgeous woman over their knee to smack their bottom. I don't feel that there is much about the hesitation, the fear, the joy that must be there.

To tell you the truth, I don't read that many spanking stories and I am happy to be proven wrong.

Anyway, I am not saying that this is a story that really address the problem but I did try to see if from the spankers point of view.

We were walking up the hillside, the forest was quite dense there and we felt like explorers and adventurers as we continued on our path. I Walked behind her as we climbed the steep hill. I watched her move as she walked before me.

She was dressed in jeans, tight jeans that clung to her bottom. Her jeans were orange, matching her hair. On her upper body she wore a dark green sweater that hung down and half covered her bottom. I stared at her bottom as she moved. I felt a strange stirring within me as I looked at her. She was my friend, sweet Fiona was my friend. But in my heart I knew what that stirring was about.

Time and again she looked over her shoulder and I looked into her face. She had freckles, not much, not as much as you would expect from a red haired girl like her. She was cute. I had always thought she was cute.

'What do you think?' she said as she stopped in a small clearing.

'This is alright,' I said as I felt my heart beat faster.

We had talked about it and we were both in on it. There was a silent agreement that there was no hesitation allowed, no turning back. We had decided and we were to do it.

She nodded and we started looking around the clearing. This was a remote spot, no one would see us here but it was a clearing and the sun reached the floor here. This was good, there were a lot of saplings and shrubbery here.

'How about that one?' she said and pointed to a light green bunch of switches growing beside a grey rock. I saw her face blushing. I looked at the saplings and saw that their surfaces were smooth and green and they were sturdy. Ideal for our task.

I think she trembled a little and I wondered what she thought. If she had changed her mind. I had to trust her to tell me if she had. I hesitated and then I knelt by the rock and let my hand caress the saplings.

I found a sturdy and long one and she gave me her knife and I cut it. It felt brutal to do that, to cut short this life but I knew it was only a part of a larger tree and it would survive.

I gave the sturdy switch to Fiona and she held it. She took the knife and cut away some small twigs making the switch smooth and clean. She held it in her hands and felt the spring in it. It was sturdy, it was very springy.

She gave me the switch.

'Are you ready?' she asked and I nodded.

I found it odd that she would ask me that.

For a brief moment I saw some kind of apprehension in her eyes but she turned around to show determination. I was odd, a low buzzing in my ears but I felt nothing. As if I didn't understand what was happening.

She took out the dice and gave them to me.

'You'd better do this,' she said, 'I may try to cheat.'

She grinned as she handed me the dice.

I looked at the rock and found a level surface at the top. I held my hands together, creating a small space for the dice and I shook them. I slammed my hand down on the rock and made sure the dice wouldn't roll away with my hand but without looking at them. I then lifted my hand and I saw Fiona crane her neck to get a better view.

I heard her draw her breath.

'Five and three,' she said.

'That means fifteen,' I replied.

'Yes,' and her voice sounded weak.

'Are you sure?'

'Shut up!'

She walked over to a small tree, a birch and turned to it. I took up the switch from the ground where I had put it when I had thrown the dice.

Fiona didn't look at me but I saw that she was hesitating. She stood still and for a brief moment I thought she would turn around and laugh and say that we should go back.

She didn't. Instead she unbuttoned her jeans. She wriggled them down her hips. I felt my cheek blush as I looked at her movements as her jeans came down. She pulled them down to her knees and I stared at her knicker clad bottom. The knickers were red, bright red.

'This will not do,' she said.

'What?' I said.

'My sweater is too long, it is in the way.'

She quickly slipped the sweater over her head and hung it on a small branch beside her. I looked at her back as she revealed her light green t-shirt. The sweater had been too big but the t-shirt clung to her frame and now I could see how slim and delicate she was.

She took hold of her shirt and knotted in front obviously thinking that this was also too long. When she was done it fell only to her waist and I saw her skin above her knickers. I felt a lump in my throat.

'Alright,' she said.

I heard a slight shiver in her voice. I knew she was a little apprehensive. I was apprehensive. We both wanted this but I felt it must be so much easier for me. Still I hesitated.

She quickly pulled down her knickers and held out her hands and put them on the trunk of the birch tree. I stared at her naked bottom. This was part of our deal but now it looked so very vulnerable. It seemed so terribly wrong to take the switch to it.

I stared at her fair buttocks as I placed the switch against her skin. Full force, that was our deal, our pledge. It scared me to think of it but we had a deal.

I heard a faint sigh as I removed the switch. I aimed at her buttocks, somewhere between her thighs and her back. I didn't know the best place but it seemed to be about right.

I let go of the switch and it fell with a menacing swishing sound before it hit Fiona's buttocks with a loud crack. She drew her breath. I stared at her bottom. I saw a line appear on her fair skin. I saw her buttocks tremble a little, she seemed to shiver as if cold.

I knew it had hurt. I had switched her on her naked buttocks and it had hurt. We both knew it would hurt. She knew it and that was the deal, that I should do it, that I should switch her.

'One,' she said.

It seemed like a long journey ahead.

I switched her again and tried to make sure I did it properly. She jumped as I hit her tender bottom.

'Ow, ow, ow,' she said in a low voice, as if the try to drive away the immense pain. I knew what it was like to hit my own leg with a switch, through my trousers. It hurt. Now I was switching her bottom, her naked unprotected bottom.

'Two,' she said and now I was sure that she would do the counting.

The third blow hit a little higher, closer to her back and she jumped again. She almost turned her head and I saw her close her eyes and contorting her face. She was in agony.


The fourth hit her thighs and she desperately lifted her leg. This was hard for her.

'Four,' she said meekly.

I looked at her and thought about our deal. She had chosen this. I shouldn't hesitate. I could let go of my inhibitions. I could switch her. I didn't have to think about how painful it was for her. She could do that. I could aim and hit. That was my part of the deal.

I felt a strange surge of power run through me. I felt my cheek blush as I realised that I could do this and not feel bad about it. I could switch her and let her deal with the pain. I could just do it and...and enjoy it.

The fifth blow was delivered in the right place, a little below the middle of her buttocks. I saw how it hurt but now I felt I liked it. I enjoyed the power of it. I felt guilty about enjoying it but I did.

I delivered six and seven in rapid succession and now Fiona jumped up and put her hands on her bottom. She looked comical, I almost burst out laughing. It was something immensely silly about seeing her naked bottom, jeans around her knees and knickers pulled down. She was prepared for a switching and she had no protection. She was in a sad situation and I wondered why I should feel bad about it. We had a deal and she wanted this. She had to deal with her pain. I could just switch her.

When I gave her the twelfth blow she held up her hands as if to stop me. She was overwhelmed and wanted me to wait. I could do that. I wouldn't stop unless she told me to. She could always do that.

I gave her the last three in quick succession and she squealed as she jumped up and jumped around. We looked at each other and started to laugh. For some reason we had stayed serious during the switching but now we had to laugh, had to take away some of the tension.

'I am numb,' she said her voice almost cheerful, 'it really hurts.'

She put her hands on her bottom and gently touched the wails and bumps that had occurred on her skin. Her skin was striped in red and a slightly deeper colour in places and her whole bottom was pink where it wasn't red.

'It is hot,' she said, 'I can feel it.'

I said nothing, I was still trembling, overcome with the sensation of actually enjoying it.

'Here, touch it!' she said, 'it is hot.'

I approached her and she took my hand and placed it on her bottom. I blushed but I felt that it was hot.

She looked at me and she smiled. I smiled too. I removed my hand and we stood in silence for a moment.

'Time to go back?' she said.

'I think so,' I replied.

Fiona pulled up her knickers and contorted her face as she seemed to find it quite painful. We laughed at that and we laughed as she pulled up her jeans.

We started our descent with Fiona walking very stiffly.

'I will not be able to sit for a while,' she said.

I was amazed that she was so cheerful. She seemed almost elated, as if she had achieved something, done something scary and survived. I was elated too but I felt more held back, as if I shouldn't enjoy this so much.

As we walked down the hill, Fiona turned to me and smiled.

'You liked this, didn't you?'

I nodded. I couldn't speak but I couldn't lie to Fiona either. I had enjoyed it.

Thursday, 3 July 2008

Dark Side of the Loon

I though I was immensely clever when I came up with that title but googling it returns 672 hits so I wasn't the first. My reason to choose that title was that I am about to post a story, I wrote some time ago (perhaps you can tell), that is towards the darker side.

Sometimes an image in your head gets stuck and it is not always this image is a nice one. Sometimes it is cruel or brutal. One way to get rid of it, of course, is to write a story about it. This is what I did. I, kind of, like this story, despite the theme.

I have to say that there is no blood and notice subtle details such as 'flat nosed' that make it just a tad less horrible than perhaps it could have been. It still makes me cringe so I don't expect you to enjoy it, but here it is.

And for those of you who try to figure out the scene, I just want to remind you that in the world outside the Commonwealth you mostly drive on the right side while we drive on the correct side (chuckles a little at her own joke, that she, of course, has stolen).

He drove her to a secluded spot where they could be alone. They sat in his car overlooking the glimmering lights of the night city. He looked at her and she looked back but lowered her gaze almost as if she was shy. He smiled.

'You are beautiful,' he said.

'Thank you,' she said and blushed.

He looked out of the window and they sat in silence for a while. It was not an awkward silence but a moment of anticipation, a short wait before the real thing would start, a time for taking a deep breath before plunging into the water.

He turned to her and regarded her. She was dressed in a short, tight fitting black dress that seemed even shorter than it was as she sat beside him. He looked at her bare legs.

'Take off your knickers, now!' he said with a soft voice.

The young woman blushed and nodded. She seemed agitated and he could see that she was trembling a little in the dark. She had to pull up her skirt to get hold of her knickers. Her movements were a bit awkward in the confined space. Soon she slid her knickers down her legs and took them off. She gave them to him. They were black and tiny and plain. He took them, looked at them and put them in his pocket.

'Pull up your skirt!' he continued with the same soft voice.

She complied but not without a slight moment of hesitation. He saw that and smiled. He watched her slide the skirt up and regarded her naked skin that became exposed with her movements.

She blushed as she felt the fabric of the seat against her buttocks. She looked down and rested her hands in her lap in a very innocent pose. His eyes glimmered in the dark as he looked at her.

A moment of stillness and silence followed. The man gazed at the woman and she looked down. He smiled and she looked serious. After a while she turned to him with a quick smile, a fleeting moment of connection before she turned away again.

He moved. He reached for the glove compartment and opened it. Her eyes followed his every movement with anticipation. She gasped as he took out a pair of pliers. Her eyes moved rapidly in bewilderment. She didn't know what the pliers meant but she felt a sting of fear as she understood that they had something to do with her.

He held out the pliers and smiled at her. She looked up and he could see fear in her eyes. She looked vulnerable with that expression on her face, vulnerable and to him utterly desirable.

He leaned forward and kissed her on the lips. It was a soft, quick kiss, a kiss of comfort for her. She relished the kiss but had no time to reply to it. He leaned back, put the pliers on the dash board and turned to her.

He reached for her with his right hand. Without hesitation he put his hand down between her thighs. She spread her legs quickly to give him space. She moved as if it was a reflex.

She held her breath as his fingers entered her. They felt cold against her sensitive skin. They were intrusive and demanding as he groped her. She couldn't understand what he wanted for the hand was not caressing her. They moved as if they searched for something, sensing their way inside her. It reminded her of being examined by a doctor. The determination and the matter of factly way he touched her made her feel humiliated and strangely aroused. She felt groped, invaded and degraded. He touched her most intimate parts and the way he touched her made her ashamed and excited. Images of being put up for sale on a slave market and being examined by a prospective buyer flashed through her head, degrading images but still with some pleasure in them.

She gasped again as he got hold of her inner lips and pinched them painfully. He, now, reached down his left hand and took over the grip on her. The free right hand reached for the pliers and returned without hesitation.

The steel of the pliers felt cold as they brushed her thighs. She let out a tiny, pathetic sound as he applied the pliers to her and squeezed. The steel cut into her soft flesh. It was a flat nose pliers but the grip was still steel hard.

He leaned back still holding his grip on the pliers. He looked at her. She looked back. He saw pain in her face, pain and bewilderment. Her cheeks was a little red. She was affected by his grip.

'Does it hurt?' he asked.

She nodded.

'Good,' he replied.

She blushed at this. The thought of him wanting to hurt her made her shiver with a strange combination of fear and excitement.

For a while they just sat there, she with pulled up skirt and slightly spread legs and he with his hand on the pliers between her thighs. Then he smiled.

'Now, my dear,' he said, 'unbutton the dress!'

'But I have no bra,' she said, with a tone of alarm in her voice.

'I know,' he said.

The dress had a number of tiny buttons in front and she sighed as she reached for them. She moved cautiously because of the pliers. Her fingers shivered as she unbuttoned her dress. He regarded her as she did this. It took longer than she wished. Still she was reluctant, unbuttoning her dress in a car where anyone could pass by.

The dress was tight and when the fabric was free from the buttons they parted exposing her skin. Her breasts were still covered but her dress was now far more revealing than before.

'Slide the dress down from your shoulders!' he demanded with the same cool and soft voice. It was something formal in this way of exactly demanding what she should do.

She gave him a frightened gaze, looked out through the window and then complied. She slid the dress down from her shoulders, the left before the right.

'All the way down,' he said.

She slid the dress further down and now she had to reveal her breasts. They were quite small but still round and full and rosy. He regarded her and his eyes rested on her bosom. She looked back at him. Strangely enough she seemed more self assured now. She still blushed but she looked him in the eyes for a long time before averting her gaze.

'Do you love me?' he asked.

'No,' she said in a low voice.

He tightened his grip.

'Ah,' she said.

'Now, do you love me?'


This time she didn't speak but he could see the pain in her face as the pliers cut deeper into her.

'Do you love me?' he asked again.

'No, I don't,' she answered.

This time she didn't have to endure a harder grip.

'Do you want me to remove the pliers?' he asked.

'No,' she said.

He smiled.

She had to lean forward as he tightened the grip again, her knuckles white as she held on to the seat, her face contorted. He held on for an eternity. She didn't give a sound.

'Still?' he asked as he had loosened the grip.

'No.' she answered, breathing heavily.

He looked at her for a long while. She looked back, determined not to let go. He could see strange things in her eyes, things that made him admire her.

Then he leaned forward and kissed her. He put his left arm around her shoulders and held her. She felt the fabric of his jacket against her naked skin. He still held his right hand between her legs and as they kissed deeply he tightened his grip slightly twisting the pliers. He felt her shiver as they kissed but still she responded to him, still he twisted a little more but she didn't let go. She kissed him back.

She cried out as his lips drew back. She leaned her head back and groaned. He still twisted the pliers and she shivered in pain.

Then it was over. He withdrew his hand with the pliers and she was relieved. She still felt the pain from the grip but she was free.

'There is not time now,' he said. She lowered her head, breathing, composing herself.

'No, I know,' she answered.

'We have to go back,' he said. She nodded.

He put the pliers in the glove compartment and reached for the ignition key.

'May I put the dress on?' she asked.

'Of course,' he said, 'but don't slide the skirt back down.

She nodded as she started to button up her dress. He looked at her and thought that he saw a smile on her face.

He drove her back to her place and stopped the car on the street below her window. He turned to her. She looked back.

'See you soon?' he said.

'See you soon,' she said as she slid the dress back down. She opened the door and stepped out. He put his hand in his pocket and felt her knickers. He didn't give them back.

With the door still open he leaned forward and looked up into her face.

'You don't love me?' he said.

'No, I don't,' she answered.

'Maybe that is good?' he said.

'Maybe,' she said and smiled.

Just before she closed the door she stopped short for a while and gazed at him.

'But I do adore you,' she said and slammed the door and walked away. He gazed at her as she crossed the street.