Thursday, September 20, 2007


I took a test which I saw on Bonnie's page... I was lured by the cute pink graphic :-D Oh, I guess I am just juvenile sometimes, because I can actually spend hours and hours on useless internet quizzes when I'm bored. At least the quiz below is "relevant"! Haha! My comments on my own score below.


You are 80% spankable!

You love being spanked, preferably to a deep rosy hue. You like nothing more than being bent over anything, anywhere, and spanked by a strong hand or maybe a leather paddle. We wouldn't be surprised if you wore those panties with the ruffles on the ass. You are also probably guilty of wiggling the goods at people and bending over suggestively at every opportunity.

Link: The How Spankable Are You Test written by bazz22 on OkCupid, home of the The Dating Persona Test


I like it when my butt has a deep rosy hue = check!
I like being bent over anything: the knee, over pillows, the sofa arm etc. = check!
I like hand spankings, and am curious about paddles = check!
I own panties with ruffles = check! Haha! Actually, it has ruffles and a little lace ribbon. So cute!

The quiz was wrong with one other point though. Actually, I act very conservative in real life (too conservative? My friends used to call me a marm and joked that I could be a nun), and although I fantasize a lot when I'm with Marcus or on my own, I would never wiggle my butt or bend suggestively for just anyone! Guess I lead some kind of "double life" that way... marm on the outside, spanko in the inside (and whatever would I do if Marcus hadn't introduced me to spanking?)

But I can forgive the makers of the quiz for that... as I said, it's a cute pink graphic up there :-)


Speaking of double-life and spankos in their everyday life...

I am currently catching up with fellow spankos' blogs which I haven't been able to visit the past weeks. In my favorite site Creative Coaching Concepts, the blog owner Miss F asks us girls to do this hairbrush experiment in public (like flashing a fat wooden hairbrush in a train). If the social experiment goes well, the vanillas won't give a second look but presumably, the spankos will. Interesting like "wear your fetish to work day", isn't it? You can read more about it here. Unfortunately though, I wouldn't know where to try this experiment myself (I don't ride public transportation often), although I just wish I could try this in a train at rush hour and see what happens :-D


Tuesday, September 18, 2007

Have you ever been discovered?

First of all, I apologize to you all for the long delay in our posting. In the first weeks, as you know, Marcus was down with something (we actually thought it was salmonella since it coincided with some salmonella news here; but eventually we were able to rule it out). Then came the mountain of work for me, and it was just impossible to find time and blog! So again, my apologies.

Since no "real" spankings have been going on these past weeks (if you exclude playful ones that don't leave a mark, and zen spankings which I talked about recently), I thought I'd take a look at our own spanking photo archives from last year, to inspire me back to blogging.

I found this particularly cute pyjama picture of Marcus, from about this time of the year last year:

My broad brush had been used, resulting in pink round markings that raise slightly from the skin. Usch!

The funny thing is that my mom actually gave those pyjamas to us as a present (red for Marcus and blue for me -- our favorite colors), but she has no idea (to my knowledge anyway) that we have mostly been using it as a spanking costume. Perhaps if she mistakenly gets her way to this page, she will recognize the pattern from the pyjamas she had bought from Thailand.

I don't know how many of us would be able to share our kink with a family member. I've read some interviews of professional spankers (those that produce spanking movies), and how some of them have had to tell their parents so as not to lead a double life of sorts. As a "hobbyist", we never really felt a compulsion to divulge our hobby to anyone who knows us personally, but I remember how (because I failed to move some spanking pictures to another folder), my sister saw one of my red-butt pictures early on when Marcus and I became a couple.

I was showing her some cute couple pictures of us at Marcus' apartment, and as soon as I scrolled to the next picture, we were both surprised that it was a butt on the screen!

I deleted the picture in a hurry, red in my face as I would imagine. My butt was only slightly pink (it was one of our first spanking sessions, so I was eventually sorry that II deleted it), and Marcus -- who was worried that I might get turned off by the pain I wasn't used to by then -- fetched some re-freezable ice blocks to put on my bottom. So, the picture was actually of my pink butt, framed by a blue ice block!

I just explained it quickly to my sister as a game we tried, and then clumsily changed the topic (I even tried to say that it was Marcus' butt, hopefully she didn't stare at the picture long enough to see that it was womanly hips on the picture). Then, we never talked about the picture again. How embarrasing!!!

So my question for today stems from this personal experience of mine. Have any of you ever been discovered by a "vanilla" acquaintance, friend, or relative one time or another? How did you feel? How did you try to explain your way out of it, or did you just share the whole lot?

Polls at Blogflux don't work right now, so I would love to have your stories as comments, out of curiosity and to see weather anyone has the same experience as me!


Monday, September 3, 2007

The nurse and the zen spanking

Marcus is currently not feeling so well, so any serious spankings are put on hold for the moment. Instead, I am busy taking care of the poor sick boy -- a great time to fantasize about being strict mom or nurse. I did get an unusual request from my "patient" yesterday though. When his head was aching and I asked if he needed a massage, he instead asked for some light spankings...

Before you say that it was mean of me to oblige, it really wasn't a hard spanking, I can say that. I don't know what to call them really, but they've been called "zen spanking" elsewhere: light-to-medium hard taps on regular intervals, made to make you relax and be very aware at the same time. They're not so hard to make one cringe, but not so light that you are not aware of them. Rather, all your thoughts concentrate on ... well, nothing at all. They just float there somewhere, on a point between the ceiling and your rosy butt cheeks. It is a spanko's state of no-mind, and I can assure you that it is very relaxing.

So, that is what Marcus requested, and I couldn't resist turning it into a small game, with me as the therapist, releasing Marcus of his negative energies. I sat on the bed beside him, just spanking decisively and talking gently. When I asked him, he actually said it took some pain away from his head -- probably my zen spankings gave him some other sort of pain to think about. After a 10- to 15- minute session, he was sufficiently relaxed and sufficiently tired, and slept like a baby. Then I sneaked this picture (I think the butt looked rosier than it looks in the picture though!)

I sound like a spanking testimonial here, but this is actually one of the wonders of a spanking relationship: it has so many dimensions, all loving, but with different degrees of intensity, seriousness, playfulness, even different purposes! Everyone would benefit in this stressed world if you could enter 15-minute spanking parlors during your lunch break, don't you think? Almost all domestic violence will disappear, too. We all need that endorphin rush from time to time, or that feeling of being punished, forgiven and caressed -- all of which the world of spanking can give. But before I start marketing consensual spanking as a cure-all, I'll stop here.

Just wish Marcus a get-well-soon, everyone, and send your zen spankings over for his speedy recovery!

P.S. Some religious weirdo has posted an incredibly long comment on many spanking blogs (including mine), about god's wrath and sexual deviancy blah blah blah. Well, not that I read the whole "document" of his, but ... where did this weirdo come from? Anyway, he's bonkers and antisocial enough not to know that comments can be deleted, and will be if the blog owner sees fit. And by the way, that person deserves a serious spanking with a "holy" paddle (which is what I call a paddle with holes) just because I saw his comment first thing in the morning. Ugh! D.S.

Thursday, August 30, 2007

Two very strict Swedish spanking stories

I was born after the Swedish spanking ban, so my knowledge about spankings in the past is limited and a bit abstract. From what I understand, spankings where actually pretty common in the past (not so long ago), even in Sweden, and I’m interested, or rather fascinated about the descriptions of spankings of those times. Perhaps it’s my interest in history, how people actually lived, how they thought, and so on, combined with my spanking fetish? In order to try to get the picture I’ve been surfing the web for stories of that time. Here are two I found at this site (in Swedish). I don’t know if they are true. I think that they seem to be a bit excessive and severe but they could at least based on some truth. On the other hand, since I don’t know anything about those times, what do I know? Can someone, older person who grew up in Sweden perhaps, help me gauge if these stories are reasonably plausible to have truly happened, and if they even could be commom/representative of the times? If anyone have more info about the spankings of the time (in Sweden or elsewhere), feel free to offer it.

A general note: it seems that Swedish parents spanked a lot 60-40 years ago. Especially in rural, and religious areas. I (Marcus) translated some of them to English (that is, supposedly real stories from older Swedes who experienced disciplinary spanking). The pictures come from my collection which I built up in my computer over the years, so please just don't mind that the implements in the stories are sometimes not what they should be in the pictures!

Here comes a story about a spanking in the South of Sweden.


Gabriella: spanking with the brush

I grew up in Småland (a province south of Stockholm) in the 50's, when spankings still were commonly occurring. I was myself spanked a lot as a child. My mom spanked me, and my two sisters, while my dad mostly spanked my brother. Dad usually used the belt on my brother and on some rare occasions on my sisters and me.

Usually we were sent up to mom and dad’s bedroom when it was time to get spanked. Once there, you had to wait for mom to arrive. Mom kept us waiting, to give us time to reflect about what was going to happen. After what felt like an eternity she arrived and stepped in the room with a strict look on her face.

"Gabriella, you know what you’ve done so let’s get this over with. Lift your skirt to your waist and pull the panties down!"

If it was hand-spanking, mom sat down on the bed while you had to lie down in her lap.

If it was the wooden bath brush that were to slap your butt, mom piled some pillows on the foot board at the end of the bed. Then your torso would rest on the bed and the pillows raised the hips so that your back was arched and your butt cheeks pointed straight up in the air. The legs were draped along the foot board, and the feet where touching the floor. Mom always forced me to part my legs so that I wouldn’t clench my butt during the punishment. That made it hurt even more, and it also made it harder not to cry when you where unable to clench when the brush smacked you. I believed that I was alone in having to part my legs during spankings, but after surfing some the Internet I realize now that that it wasn’t the case.

Normally mom used her hand to vigorously spank our butts for a couple a minutes, usually that meant a couple hundred spanks over all of the cheeks and some of the thighs. In my teens, when mom used the bath brush, I never got less then 50 spanks on my butt. If you made a fuss during the spanking, put your legs together, threw your hands back or tried to twist around, you got 10 extra strokes for each “offense”, unless you fussed before the first 25 strokes had been given, in which case mom stared from the beginning, from zero. In the times that I got many extra strokes, I just couldn’t control myself and I “fussed” again and again, and I received extra strokes upon extra strokes. During those instances, my mom called dad to hold me down while she continued to spank and spank.

I screamed, howled and cried rivers during these sessions, but my mom just continued spanking mechanically until I received all the spanks. It was terrible, my butt was filled with yellow and purple bruises and the skin was deep red. After the punishment I had to kiss mom’s hand, make a curtsy and thank her for the punishment while the tears were flowing down my face. Then it was straight to bed!


Here is another story from that collection of "confessions", more severe, and this time from the north of Sweden.

Ulrika's Story

My name is Ulrika and I’m 53 years old. I have read the stories on your page and I though that I could write some about my own upbringing. I was raised with spankings and as Lisa (Ed: another person who contributes to the collection of stories), I don’t think highly about my parents. As in Lisa’s case, I nevertheless am fascinated by spanking and find it to be a turn on.

I grew up in the northern provinces, in a small village, where everybody, including my parents, where deeply religious. Almost all children where raised by strict parents, and spankings where absolutely nothing uncommon. Sometimes you could notice how your classmates grimaced when the sat down in school. Then you knew that they had been spanked the previous day.

We went to church every week and the clergyman advised the parents that children needed to be spanked when naughty. When it came to spanking, my parents where no exceptions, today however, I wouldn’t call it spanking, but rather verging on abuse. But spanking was legal at the time so I had nothing to say about it. You just had to accept that you got spanked if you misbehaved. I can’t even remember the first time I got spanked, it was something that followed me through all of my childhood.

When I was younger both my mom and my dad spanked me. Usually I was placed over the lap. I believe that spankings always were given on the bare butt, except when in public. Then it was only skirt up or pants down. Mom and dad spanked with the hand until my butt was deep red. I was always spanked until I was reduced to blubbering. According to mom, who had a similar upbringing, it was important to the break the will of the child. That meant that spankings where given until, you where so exhausted that you just lay still and took the spanking despite burning and aching butt cheeks.

When I became a bit older, around 10-12, my parents started to use a wooden hairbrush to spank me with for more serious “crimes”. My grandma used the same hairbrush to spank my mom when she was young. It wasn’t unusual for my grandparents to be around when I get spanked. At one of those instances, I was about 10, when I just climbed out of mom’s lap after a spanking, my grandma said to mom:

"Isn’t Ulrika a bit to old for hand-spanking? You’re spoiling the girl. When you where in Ulrika’s age you certainly got the hairbrush."

"Yes, I sure remember that," mom answers.

"I still have the brush at home, I’ll bring it so you can start spanking Ulrika for real when she
doesn’t behave."

When I heard this I got scared and my crying increased. And since then I got to feel the smacking of that brush.

This was much worse then and-spanking, but after a couple of years you got used to the brush as well. When I was about 14, a new spanking implement was introduced. From now on it was that carpet beater for more serious “crimes”. I wasn’t always given the carpet beater; sometimes I was still spanked over that lap with the hairbrush. I never got used to the carpet beater, and it was really awful to get it. I was as scared and nervous the first time I was going to get it as in the last time, which was just some weeks before I turned 21.

My parents further thought that the humiliation was as important part of the punishment as the actual pain. So when I reached puberty, and started to become a woman, dad was the one giving me the spankings. Imagine how embarrassing it was as a teenager being naked in front of your dad, especially in the position, in which I received the carpet beater.

I would like to tell you all about the spankings I got when I was 16-17, and older. When I’d done something bad, dad said:

"Well Ulrika, then you and I will have to have one of our special conversations with each other."

The “conversation” simply implied me lying in over dad’s lap or on the bed, receiving a big spanking. I was given ether the hairbrush or the carpet beater. I wasn’t told which one I was going to get, instead I was sent up to my room in order to prepare. That meant that I had to remove all my clothing except for my socks and my bra. Then it was the waiting. Sometimes dad waited a full hour before he arrived to spank me. Sitting virtually naked on the bed, waiting was awful, and feeling the fear grows stronger and stronger. Would he come in 5, 20 or 60 minutes? The lump in my throat and the butterflies in my belly almost made me “pee in my pants”. Would I get the hairbrush over the lap, or would I get the dreadful carpet beater? How many strokes? Would I be told the number of strokes before the spanking? Would I have to count them?

And then, finally, I could hear dad’s steps up the stairs. If he instantly went to my door, I knew it was going to be the hairbrush that would spank me to tears. If it there was a long pause, some very long seconds, and I heard the hallway closet being opened, then I knew that he was going to get the carpet beater.

Klick, klack, Klick , klack, the steps echoed outside my door and then it became quiet. I tensed in anticipation as I stared at the door handle to my room, would it be pushed down instantly? Klick, some squeaking, the hallway closet opened. I froze in terror when I realized that it was the carpet beater that shortly would be swishing down on my butt. Dad opened the door holding the carpet beater, I instantly stood up, legs shaking.

"So, my daughter, as you can see your mother and I have decided that you need a dose of the carpet beater."

"How many will I get dad?"

"We’ll see, until I think that you had enough and your resistance is gone, buy the way, you don’t have to count them today sweetie."

That meant that the worst spanking awaited me. Not being told the number of strokes meant that it would be a lot. That I, on top of that, didn’t have to count them meant that the punishment was going to be very severe. Dad knew that it wasn’t any idea for me trying to count the strokes anyway when the strokes were many. I still lost count regardless due to the terrible pain.

"Okay, Ulrika, get the pillow!"

"Yes dad."

In my cabinet I had an especially thick and hard pillow, which I was placed over when given the carpet beater. I got the pillow and placed it in the middle of the bed.

"Then, lie down over the bed!"

I climbed up on the bed and draped myself over the pillow so that the lower part of my belly was resting on it. Then it was just to wait for my dad’s instructions, that would put my butt into the most vulnerable position possible.

"Ulrika, move forward a bit!"

I slide forward, feeling how my butt being raised further up in the air.

"Good, assume the spanking position!"

Ooooh, assuming this familiar position was really awful. I brought my arms forward and gripped the edge of the bed, buried my face in the mattress, arched my lower back, and parted my legs. I stared snivelling some when I parted my legs so that the knees where about 50-60cm (20-24”) from each other. Now I was in the position I been taught to be in when given the carpet beater. My butt was now the highest point of my body and my butt cheeks where ready for the punishment. I was painfully aware how it looked, and what I displayed in front of dad. With the butt pouting up and my cheeks apart, nothing was left to the imagination, my vagina and my anus were both displayed. My “lower lips” were also parted some.

"Good Ulrika, let’s start. If you put your legs together, twist your hips or let go of the grip of the bed frame, you and I will have to have yet another conversation tomorrow, right?"

"Yes dad," I answered pitifully.

If I didn’t cooperate during the punishment, I knew that I could expect an additional spanking the following day. Every time I put my legs together, let go of the bed frame I would receive 6 more spanks the next day, in the exact same position, and with the carpet beater. Dad and I both knew that I was bound to fail to comply if he only hit me long and hard enough. I actually suspect that he sometimes did it on purpose sometimes just to have the pleasure to spank me again the next day too.

Dad lay the carpet beater on my butt for a while, the he tapped my butt with it for a couple of seconds. Then he rubbed my butt with it. This gave me with strange sensations. The knot in my belly grew bigger, but it also started to tingle between my legs. The feeling of the carpet beater this close to my genitals aroused me. This added to my shame and humiliation as my lips started swelling, and I could feel hoe the clitoris stiffened. Dad must have observed this, but he never said a single word about I during all the years I was spanked in this position. Over the years I got more and more turned on by the spankings. The last times, when I was in my 20’s, I know that I even was wet.

I felt the carpet beater raise from my butt cheeks and I prepared myself for the first blow. I tried to relax, although it wasn’t exactly easy. I closed my eyes, clenched my jaw and hugged the bed frame tightly. BANG! The first stroke hits my wide-open butt, and that hard. For a tenth of a second nothing was felt, then the sting and burn washes over you. I clenched my jaw even more without making a sound. Swish BANG! The next stroke lands on the same spot, right in the middle of my butt. I’m still quiet. BANG! The stroke hits my left cheek only, and the tip of the carpet beater wraps around, hitting the inside of that cheek very close to the vagina. I grunt some, but I don’t scream. BANG! Ahaaa. Same stroke again, but this time the edge off the carpet beater hit close to my anus. The pain is so terrible that I scream for the first time. BANG! BANG! Aaaahhh Aeiii! Dad gives me two more in rapid succession across both cheeks. A faint “ah” leaves my lips and I can feel how the tears start to burn I my eyes. BANG! This one hits low on my right thigh, and now dad starts hitting as hard as he can. AAAhh! I scream a bit louder this time. BANG! Another one, full force, left thigh, and the edge of the carpet beater hit very close to my genitals. Now I lose it, I scream loudly Aaahh!!!! I sniffle and teardrop rolls down my face. BANG! The stroke hit my left thigh and a scream once more Aaahh!!!. The tears were now rolling steadily down my face, and my sobs increased. BANG! Ow! BANG! Ohh! BANG! Aaaouw ooohhhh! 3 strokes in rapid succession in the middle of the butt across both cheeks again. I start crying and the tears fell faster. BANG! BANG! Both ones hit my right cheek. BANG! Another one on the left cheek, and it hit my anus. AAHHHH, OOhhhhh, aowww, I scream for all that I’m worth, and I start to cry hysterically. I really try, with all my might, to keep my legs apart, but the pain is too bad, and I involuntarily put my legs together. Dad wait a couple of seconds until I’ve regained some of my self control.

"Ulrika, now we will have to have our “conversation” tomorrow as well. Part your legs again!"

I part them. Dad raises the carpet beater again, and brings it down with all his might on my lacerated butt. My cries and howls echoes through the house and I fling my head back for every blow. Dad waits patiently for me to resume my spanking-position before the next stroke. I cry non stop for the rest of the punishment. The tears were flooding and stream down my face, and I can feel how the mattress was soaked. After an endless row of strokes on my butt and thighs I loosen the grip of the bed frame two times in order to rub my butt. Dad carefully counted how many times that happened. Finally, after some more strokes, I run out of mental energy, and a collapse into a hiccupping, crying and sobbing pile, faintly shouting as the strokes continues to rain down my deep red, sore and skinned butt. My skin was scratched in some places. After an eternity, it ends. I lie down, immobilized, over the pillow that raises my butt for the carpet beater.

"Ulrika, you had 38 strokes. Your backside is really battered, but you’ve deserved it. You didn’t comply throughout the punishment so unfortunately we will have to do this tomorrow as well. You’ll get 18 strokes tomorrow evening. Do you have anything to say to me?"

"Thank you dad for punishing me. Sorry that I didn’t take my punishment so well."

"That’s good Ulrika. I send mom up so she can rub some ointment on your butt"

Dad pats my lower back, and kiss my forehead before leaving. Some minutes later my mom arrives. She sits down on the bed beside me, and patting and hugging me.

"Ohh, my little sweetie. Poor you, so much you’ve been spanked. But I know how it feels. Your grandpa had a real rattan cane that I got to taste on my bare butt."

I look at her, and I can see that she’s been crying. Mom always felt bad when I was to be spanked with the carpet beater. She washes my butt with a wet sponge, then she massage my butt with some ointment. She also gives me a couple of aspirins and a glass of water.

"So, try to get some sleep now dear"

I stand up, on shaking legs, remove the pillow and the bed spread. I crawl down under the sheets and lie down on my belly. I’m still crying. After about half an hour, my crying subsides to a faint sniffling. With the immediate pain gone, it starts to tingle down there once more. I can’t stop thinking back at my spanking, how I lay there, with the butt in the air, feeling the carpet beater dancing on my butt. I arch my back, raise my butt in a similar position to that which I’m spanked in. My right hand travels down to my pussy, I’m wet. I insert the right hand, middle- and index finger into my vagina and start thrusting them in and out. With my left hand I caress my clitoris until I finally cum in a fantastic orgasm.

Hoped you liked the stories!

Thursday, August 23, 2007

Show me your sloggi!

While reading an internet forum this week (that had nothing to do with fetish), we came across a link to an interesting contest called "Show me your sloggi". Actually, the author of the comment tried to feign disinterest with the contest and the pictures there, but shared the link anyway. Heheh. Typical. Thanks for that though! B-)

Basically, the point of the contest is this: you put up a picture of your bum online (by country -- in our case Sweden of course), and visitors can vote for whose butt they think looks the best. Especially after my "MyButt: I'm lovin' it" entry (and my comment to a comment there), this makes me think: whose butt looks best, really? The pseudo-philosopher in me wonders if this contest is actually perpetuating or changing our idea of what a good-looking butt should look like. Who dictates it and who shapes who -- the viewers, or the underwear manufacturers and the fashion world? For instance, the main page of this contest show their own model's butts, with the headline: "See beautiful bums". When one clicks on this link, (to get to the butts with the best votes), the top of the roster show pictures of butts in that suspiciously generic shape in somewhat glossy-magazine poses... Maybe they just shouldn't have turned this butt-sharing PR-stint into a contest -- the kind of promotes a certain way to judge beauty by and puts a premium on a beauty standard that have after all been created by their industry.

I say the Dove ads rule over this Sloggi PR. And I'm not posting my butt there anyway (because most of my butt pictures show them bruised or welted anyway... The voters might not think that that's sexy no matter what we think!) Besides, I don't own a pair of Sloggis. Ha haH!

Still, I would like to hear what you guys think... is this the classic MTV-like imposition of norms? Or do you think that the contest is democratic since people get to vote out of their different tastes? Who influences who, and do you see that as a good or a bad thing?

Saturday, August 18, 2007

MyButt: I'm lovin' it!

They say you can never look at yourself from behind, but that doesn't stop you from loving it...

I know, I know... I'm totally hogging the scene in this blog whereas Marcus now prefers to stay on the sidelines and to read my (slowly increasing) entries instead. I have to think of some "project" for him to write about someday >;-D In the meantime, you'll keep on hearing from moi...

First, an observation. One of the other wonders about blogging about one's spanking journey is a kind of "relationship", empathy or understanding you suddenly share with other fellow spanko bloggers. Lately I have been able to relate to almost every spanko blogger entry I've come across. I read their spanking fantasies, their sensation while being spanked, being taken over by this blogging addiction, etc. and I think to myself, "Exactly, sistahs!" :-)

There was actually a time (in my sheltered youth!) when I thought this whole world of spanking and BSDM was strange one and that only "fake" people and fabricated personalities engaged in such activities. Quite the contrary! In fact, it was stupid of me to have thought this, which shows that it's always wrong to give judgement on people whom you don't really understand. People whose blogs I have read and who have shared their experiences with people like me are in fact some of the most honest, genuine people I have heard from, definitely much more true to themselves than some of the religious marms whom I grew up with. Also, being in a spanking relationship myself at present, I should be one of the first to know that spanking is possible in stable, commited relationships of people who truly love each other. It's not all that strange from any other sort of sex life or love life ... except this one is a tad more exciting and a just bit kinkier, to use some English understatements!

Being in this world is perhaps one of the best, most liberating, self-discovering events that has happened to me. This leads me to my second point, a revelation:

Within the two years I have been spanked and have been giving spankings, not only has my own self-image but even the image that I have with my own butt improved. It has changed from indifference, to self-consciousness, to (thankfully), a confidence in my own skin... or rather, my own backside.

When I started out with spanking, I was actually very conscious of how my butt looked like. I never thought that I would ever be conscious of it in the past, but after a few butt-fetish conversations with Marcus then, I was convinced that I wasn't blessed with oh-so-spankable "double juicys," which at that time, kind of depressed me. Too bad that butt transplants were expensive, risky and just plain silly, I thought. Besides, who would want to sit on a kind of hard cushion 24/7? I found this obsession of wanting to make my butt look bigger kind of strange and against-the-grain. Actually, most European girls probably have a butt-problem of the opposite nature: magazines depict the ideal model's backside to be slim, not shapely. Advertisements thrive on the "need" to reduce one's hip- and thigh fat. If they only knew how I would like to grow hip fat!!! Since the only fat I grow I seem to tuck under my belly, I even had a 6-month stint at the gym, working out my legs and my butt at the quite lazy pace of twice a week. I don't actually know if it worked or if it was just wishful thinking; at any case, I moved to indoor cycling which I also thought would improve my butt tone.

Yet, even then (I was enjoying myself to much with the cycling perhaps, so that I wasn't thinking primarily of my butt anymore?), I started to become "friends" with my butt. I never made any conscious decision to. Just one day, probably because of a particularly good spanking or a particularly loving butt-pat, I learned to be comfortable with how it looked -- regardless if it still isn't the most oh-so-spankable booty there is. When we started watching spanking videos, I realized even that butts indeed came in all shapes and sizes and mine was nothing to be ashamed of, as all the other parts of me. And like a good pat on the back, it felt good inside to know this. Externally speaking, this poured into other things: I started loving how my profile looked in a skirt, I'm now always on time for bikini-waxing and eventual plucking so I can use my sexy underwear more often (though I must admit I'm a sucker for the comfortable cotton ones). I also regularly moisturize my butt cheeks after the shower. But internally, I in fact learned to appreciate not only myself butt the humongous variety of body types there is in this world. I no longer look at big-butted people bitterly, nor do I envy them now. Instead, I learned to appreciate good-looking butts of all sizes when I see them, and actually manage to smile to myself authentically.

How about you? Are you comfortable with your butt? Please feel free to add your vote and to leave a comment if I missed anything out!


Wednesday, August 15, 2007

Food and fetish

I don't know if it's the blogging that is affecting my subconscious or if the subconscious thoughts that were always there just got a chance to be heard -- and are therefore making their presence ever-known to me -- since I started this blog (or "we" rather, because -- despite me hogging all the blog space here-- Marcus was the one who actually had the idea of starting this up and I would never have considered it without his suggestion).

But here's what I know. Since starting this blog of ours, I...

1. Have been having vivid dreams that involved spanking, bondage, and sexuality almost every day. Some are sexy, and some are just plain weird. The weirdest one so far came to me a few nights ago. It involved me being tied on my back to a giant cheese wheel, my arms bound together, my knees apart and my feet on the cheese -- probably anticipating some light flogging. I imagined that you guys (the readers of this blog) loved the pictures of the cheese-bondage, and Marcus and I eventually came up with a series of close-ups involving my hands or my feet tied to various blocks of cheeses of different sizes and variants.

I know... it's crazy. But incidentally, while trying to find a picture of a giant cheese wheel, I found this picture of a milk maid lying on one, her butt pointed at the air and her feet seemingly held up. There are a few differences in our poses alright, but she could also be taunting you for a spank, don't you think?

(Picture by Don Emmert, AFP/Getty Images -- who may not be at all flattered that I have used his picture in this site. On the other hand, you never can tell!)

2. I realized since a few weeks ago that I really *really* enjoy anal play. Mostly, I enjoy touching Marcus' hole, just flicking my fingers around its edges, looking at it and even smelling it from time to time. I know that it sounds pervy... I would have thought so a few months back myself. However, I can't explain the feeling of plain excitement that I get from just having my fingers nearby, pinching some flesh now and then. Sometimes I even think I could get carried away massaging him this way and find my bare finger there by surprise! On the other hand, I find that Marcus' little peeps of surprise during these moments when I'm just about to enter my fingers are one of the most pleasurable sounds I have ever heard. During my recent visit to the hospital, I even managed to steal a bunch of latex gloves to fulfill my mounting curiosity and to satisfy my itchy fingers... :-D

This leads me to think that the strap-on is the way to go from here. Strap-ons were just plain invented for people like me! At the moment however, with neither a dildo nor a strap-on in my possession, one can be amazed at how necessity (or just plain desire to fulfill a curiosity) becomes the mother of invention. Funny as it seems to me now, I actually got the permission to use a carrot to fulfill my purpose -- an opportunity that I jumped at with eagerness! Haha! I actually laugh like an evil lady-dom when I perform these things on a probably humiliated Marcus. Actually though, I was actually very gentle -- when I wasn't over-excited, that is -- and I asked him a lot about what he felt, what he liked or didn't like. On the whole, my man here reports that he likes it, despite the strange choice of implement.

I swear I will never look at carrots the same way again though (however healthy and delicious these vegetables are)! Luckily, while looking for other weirdos like me under Google (searching for "carrot + butt" :-D) I found out that I am also in good company. Long ago, our dear friend Arnold Swarzenegger also tried to place a carrot between someone's butt cheeks (full article here). The difference between him and me though, is that I actually succeeded!