Of Knickers and Bottoms and Things That Make Me Go “Oh!”

As I am new to this whole blogging thing and as I am much more about the words than the vision I am having to start anew with finding pictures to go with my scribblings.

This is very hard but I think , like most hard things it is probably good for me. Each picture I choose forces me to think about what I want to say and how I feel. So I thought I would write simply about some of my most evocative pictures- pictures that speak to me and stay in my head, just like some words do.

I make no promises not to use these pictures again. I am picking some of the images that really affect me so they may have to pop up when I write in detail about whatever it is that makes me show them in this piece.

I do not like pictures that are … TMI. Sometimes it just seems so hard core, a picture of a bottom that is all a bit too revealing and shows all the way through to everything else. I do not think I am a prude but find those sorts of pictures more gynecological rather than erotic. The ones where she is bent over and is showing just everything, everything is all ready to go and available and there is no mystery or delayed gratification. It is here and now and just not at all sexy.

Instead I choose a curved bottom that shows its vulnerability, that is a little exposed, the light and the dark showing its range of emotion. I like these aspects because that is how it feels like to have a bottom that gets exposed. Seeing the gyneological detail ignores the full exposure and it detracts from what is really happening. If the bottom has been spanked it should look red but not as though it should be taken to ER because some careless Top felt like getting all show offy and competitive and the resulting welts and black and purple mess just worry me, to be honest. I would not trust a man who made marks like that to help me pack my shopping let alone with my bum.

I like pictures where the men look like they are up to the job, although they need not be solid blocks of muscle or look as though they have been groomed like a dog at a parlour. But they do need to be dressed nicely (I could have no respect for a man who wears polyester) and to be matched to the girl they are seeing to. They need not be the same sort of person as the girl, just look as though the relationship works. I like it when the pose shows the intent, where you could imagine how it would feel to be held like that.

Sometimes when I see a picture I get a flash feeling back to how it felt at that moment when I appeared to be in the air, when I lost contact with the floor and I knew in that split second that there truly was nothing I could do to protect my poor defenceless bottom. I know just how it feels to have my legs held up in the air like this. The shame and the added ouchiness of it is as fresh in my head as if it were yesterday. This picture brings it all back.

There are many photographs that remind me of a real event or how it felt, or how I know I will feel one day when himself takes it upon ourselves to do that or go there.



When I get told to go to bed and I get mad and sulky and desperately want to throw a tantrum but I dare not quite say what I want, or do what I want because the man in my life is horribly, overwhelmingly strict and he tells me off in a way that makes me feel tiny and my stomach sinks and I get a bit scared. So I push just as far as I think I can and pull back just when I think I can save myself. I would like to tell you that I always judge this fantastically well but I do not and am sent to bed with stinging ears or a stinging bottom, feeling shy and small and for some inexplicable reason able to sleep soundly and deeply

The belt. I have to steel myself before I write about this properly but this is how I feel about the belt. I can’t say more yet; it makes me shy. I will write about it one day, properly and deeply, and before I have looked at a picture of it. No implement should have this much power over a girl, it really should not. People should wear braces.

The idea of grownup girls dressed as school girls also makes me sit down quite quietly for a while. Not slutty school girls who look as though they would be quite happy getting naked and shaking about in front of several hundred chanting men but rather girls who are prone to blushing and do honestly try to be good except when they would rather not, the kind of girls who get caught very often when they do wrong by men who are attentive and thorough. I want to write about this too.

I like any picture in this style, that is cute and fun with just a hint of voyeurism, a picture that lets a girl be a girl as she knows for sure that the man who perceives her has the wit to know what it is that he sees. Gil Elvgren did this one and he does a lot of wonderful pictures, some of which I have framed in my bedroom. I also like the fact that these girls can fall over and drop things and be silly and still be adorable. I like this because there may be girls somewhere who do fall over and things of that nature and I think we should do all we can to support them – not because I am prone to that sort of thing myself.

This picture is from Brambleberryblush and

I love it so much. The delightful curve of the bottom, the coy head with the tousled hair, those scarlet marks which I know were made by the man who adores her, it feels intimate and real and relaxed and loving and gosh – but her bottom looks like it hurts. This is what it is like; this is how it feels.

Here is one more picture. This is what made me think of writing about pictures at all.

Just look at it.

I know it has limitations, it is posed into woodenness, and that raised palm is lacking any real intent. But the rest of it is just delicious. I love the glamour of the clothes, those dinner jackets, the smart hair, her evening dress, and of course, what we can’t see. I bet she has on underwear that is silk and demure and sleek and ill matched to her sulky countenance. I know that each of those men has a silver cigarette case in his pocket and I am sure a handkerchief too, monogrammed no doubt. It is more than that though.

I like the girl. She is not taking this lying down, she is more than capable of expressing herself and I am sure she is witty and acerbic and would be great fun to have a girly gossip with. There is no hint of fear or of being bowed from her and the man standing over her must have a wonderful evocation of authority to be able to make her bend like that.

I like that he is so sure of himself that he can turn from her. He knows he has her and he is not apologetic or anxious in the least. He is happy to take his time and I suspect will have no compunction at all about making her very sorry indeed for whatever it is she has done.

I love the interplay between him and the other man. I am not even going to try to write about this now. Another day, another time I will. There is too much to say and I am shy about how I feel about it.

Maybe I am starting to like pictures after all. Font sizes, however, are another matter altogether

Would you like another?