Tuesday, 30 November 2010


Thank you for your comments. It seems as if my latest post triggered something. I am glad to see that. I will try to reply quicker to the comments, in the future. I really like having a dialogue with you. Nikolai wrote about keeping the lookout on a ship in freezing weather and I think he hit the nail on the head, that it is the helplessness and vulnerability that are key and to some extent that makes it more easy to understand, I think. It seems as if something gruesome evokes this feeling of vulnerability that can be quite sensual. And maybe it is therefore it works...if you see what I mean.

And now a short something:

The night was falling and the thin layer of snow that had fallen that morning had almost melted away but now the cold air was descending again. He took me across the yard and to the stable. I could see in his eyes that he was in no mood for discussions.

The stable was not as cold as the outside but I still felt quite miserable standing in the dark. He switched the light on, but there was only one bare lightbulb hanging from a wire, spreading its gloomy light.

'There,' he said, and pointed on the sawhorse, 'you go on that.'

I shivered. The sawhorse meant he was angry.

'It is really cold here,' I tried.

'I know.'

I approached the dreaded device.

'Take your clothes off.'

'I can't do that, it's too cold.'

'Take your clothes off.'

I looked at him and I knew there was no room for anything but obedience.

I slipped off my jacket and trembled. I had to go on. I took off my shoes, my jeans, and my top. When he kept staring at me, I slipped off my socks and my knickers.

'Get on the horse, now.'

The concrete floor was ice cold against my bare feet and I shivered as I placed my hand on the rough wood of the horse. My fingers felt the coldness of the surface. I shook my head.

'I can't do it, it's too terrible.'

'On the horse, now!'

It was easier to do it when he was this determined, this harsh with me. I climbed the horse and gasped when my thighs and bottom touched the wood.

'Down over it.'

I laid myself down and held my breath as my belly and breasts came in contact with the coldness of the surface.

Without a word he took the ropes and tied my hands and my feet to the horse. When he was done, I did no longer have to do my best to stay on it. The ropes helped me.

'I feel cold, I will have a cup of tea,' he said and walked to the door.

'No,' I cried, 'you can't leave me here.'

'Can't I?'

He closed the door behind him.

When being tied naked to a icy wooden device in a stable seconds appear like minutes. I didn't know how long he stayed away. I was naked and helpless and shivering in the cold. I wanted him to come back, even if it brought me closer to what he had in mind.

It could have been hours, minutes, a lifetime, I didn't know, before he returned. I was happy to see him, even if he didn't speak a word as got the terrible horsewhip from its hook.

The horsewhip is fierce and horrible. It is brutal and bites into the flesh like few other things. And he was angry. He used it well on me and I could do nothing but cry and squirm and wriggle and pull at my ropes.

I was sweaty and aching when he was done. He seemed calmer, more content, but he took his time and decided to walk around the stable and look at all his gruesome tools. I stayed on the horse, naked, cold, and whipped.

Finally he untied me and we went back to the house. He carried my clothes and as we walked across the yard, towards the inviting light from our living room, snow had begun to fall.

Wednesday, 24 November 2010

Four Years and the Perils of Cold Weather

Today it is four years since I posted my first post on this blog. I just wanted to let you know and say that I am, after all that has happened, quite proud. I know it is slower now, but that doesn't mean I will close the blog.

I thought I should address another issue, while I am here. I have thought a lot about why I chose the picture for the last blogpost. Why did I take a picture of a naked woman in snow? The truth is that I have a thing about snow and cold weather.

Don't get me wrong. I don't like it. Snow can be beautiful and fun, but I don't enjoy freezing and being miserable in cold weather. What is it that attracts, then? I don't really know. But there is something fascinating about being forced into the cold, and especially when you are exposed and vulnerable. Being forced to pull down knickers in the outdoors and get a spanking, or being stripped naked and bound and marched in weather you would need a good jacket to endure, are things that crops up in my fantasies and stories.

There is something about the utter unpleasantness of it. If you walk out into the cold autumn and you feel the wind through your jacket and sweaters, it is a strange and terrifying, but yet exciting, thought that it would be so much worse to naked in that weather.

Maybe it is one of those things that you know you would survive, at least for some time, but that would be terribly unpleasant. And thus something that could be done to you, if someone had the power to punish you. Maybe it is the utter vulnerability, the sense of being outdoors, being exposed and unprotected. I don't really know.

I have had a hard time explaining this to myself. A lot of other things may be traced back to something pleasurable. Spanking includes intimacy, and there is a clear connection between pleasure and pain that gets exciting when you think about someone controlling that for you. All this about being bound and enslaved is not that strange to understand, after all (well I have been fretting about it on the blog, but I do see the logic in it). Being looked at, and being looked at without clothes, is something nice, at least if you are desired. And being a slave holds a lot of promises of pleasures, and without the burden of responsibility.

But being cold? Being marched naked into the snow? There are few things that are so utterly unarousing (new word) than freezing. It must have something to do with the utter helplessness and vulnerability.

I remember watching some film clip on the Web where some woman who was quite tied up and gagged and very naked was taken out into the snow and even pelted with snowballs. I remember feeling shocked at the sheer meanness of it all. But, then, there was this strange excitement. And when I had seen it I began to include it in my fantasies and I began to let it happen to me (in my mind, of course). I guess, though, that it ties in with older fantasies about being outdoors and risking being seen or, actually, being seen.

Never mind, I just wanted to write about this and welcome any input from you, Dear Readers.

Friday, 12 November 2010

No, I Haven't...

...abandoned my blog. I have been busy in Real Life, as they call it. There have been some illness in the family and a lot of worry. I am ok, but it has taken a lot of time and energy. I guess you don't really want to hear excuses, I still thought I owe you an explanation. It just hasn't felt right to be scampering off into fantasyland at the moment.

I just wanted to blog today, to say that I am still here, I still read emails, I still communicate with people, although not so much from the blog. And I hope I will be more active soon and I apologise to you Dear Readers for having being so absent from here.

It is slowly becoming winter here (although it is still autumn), so I thought I should post a picture to cheer you up, of a young lady in the snow, in the buff, so to speak. Take care!