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What I Scribble About Most
- a girl who gets spanked
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Category Archive: being told off
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The Look
The spanking man has a weapon unlike any other. It is not a paddle or a belt- it is a skill, a quality that shows his soul through his eyes. It is known as “The look.”
His look makes a girl sit still for a moment and try to think other thoughts. It makes her tummy drop so low that it seems almost that she wants him to touch her.
But she doesn’t. She doesn’t even want him to look at her.
She wants to hide and then maybe, after some time has passed, she would like him to kiss her.
But I have a look too and this is it.
This is such a perfect drawing of my expression when I am about to be spanked. I get a bit angry, although I would deny that. I tell myself, and Dexter if he would listen, that I would be perfectly happy to be spanked if only he had a good reason to do it. It is just that today, right now, he is being a bit ridiculous and it is only fair that I tell him so.
I would like to tell you that this attitude changes before I end up over his knee but it doesn’t.
I would also like to tell you that he realises his mistakes and stops before my mood is stripped away from me. But he never does.
Would you like another?
Tagged spanked to tears, spanking, strict Top
Advent Day 13: The Secrets We Must Keep
I have come to tell you something very important as long as you are a brat.
If you are a Top then you need to go and have a look elsewhere- may I suggest here?
Brats, gather around and listen carefully.
You know how there are some things that you would rather not admit to? The things that maybe, perhaps you might not ought to have done. I am not saying you did anything, I can only imagine you are entirely innocent, as am I. I am just talking about a possible eventuality.
So he says, “Is there anything you should tell me?” and a brat that had indeed done something a little uncalled for might think of admitting it but at this time of year she must do no such thing.
You see this is the time of year when some people are buying presents and preparing surprises. These must be kept as secrets or people will be sad. Any loving brat will have lots of surprises for those she loves and so she must keep quiet when asked the dreaded question, “Is there anything you should tell me?” lest she spill the beans about all the delights that are in store.
This is not to avoid a spanking. I have included a picture of one here because good girls like us might not understand what I am talking about.
It is to help make happy little Tops on Christmas* morning.
Christmas depends on you keeping schtum.
This is a selfless act.
Have fun.
* Or whatever your festival of choice may be.
Would you like another?
Advent Blog Day 3: Anticipation
Mija has come up with a splendid idea. She has suggested that we bloggers join in with an advent event. It involves making a post every day until Christmas day.
I am very excited. I love Christmas and this seems like a marvellous idea. Shall I tell you why?
It is the waiting, the anticipation.
It is like the moment where he turns to me. His eyes cast their net. I take up his field of vision and stop still. It had whiskers they would twitch. I am still.
This is the moment of anticipation. I know, to my delight and trepidation that I am the focus of all his attention. I do not know what will come.
Is he about to put one hand to my cheek and kiss me? A film star kiss, a weak at the knees, blood whooshing through my body kiss that makes me know what my lips are for.
Is he about to ask me a question? Those dreaded questions that set butterflies alight in my stomach and look to the side to find the way out. The question that will not let me lie even though it will lead to a whole other dire consequence.
Is he about to take me firmly to the corner? To place me there, hard voice making me put my nose against the wall and leave me until my mood alters and I am pliable for punishment?
Is it that he is about to use a tone and manner with me that will make me melt, my voice soften and bring me to offer a thousand little kisses to his hard body.
I anticipate until he releases me.
Anticipation is delicious, isn’t it?
Also I have added a mood bar to the bottom of each post- it is so that people can leave a bit of feedback without feeling they have to write things. But if you write things please also tick the box. I am designed to like knowing what people think.
See you again tomorrow.
Would you like another?
Tagged bent over, spanking, submission
Fantasy Monday: Perfect.
This is an impossible position. My arms are strained, I can feel the stretch in my shoulders, and even though I am hanging onto my elbow to try to make it easier, it doesn’t help.
My back hurts. I can feel it shake with this stupid angle he has me in. I don’t know how long I can hold it. I really, really want to rub my bum; it’s burning so badly that I know if I could just rest it against the wall I could cool it. I swear I can still feel that strap. God, it’s agony.
I don’t know how long I can do it. I can’t do this, I can’t. I could say something. I could ask him to let me move. But I can’t. I can’t.
I just don’t understand why he would do this. It was ok (almost) when it was just him, but now it is the two of them. I just can’t bear to think of it. I can hear them, maybe five feet away, standing there talking about their next business project. I know they can see me. I know they can. I just want to melt into this wall.
I will be perfect. He won’t have to say one word to me. Being corrected now would be even worse than anything. They would both look at me. I will be perfect.
Would you like another?
Tagged corner tme, fantasy monday
Fantasy Monday: All It Takes
It starts before he touches her.
He calls her to him, his voice sharp and sudden in the quiet house. She walks towards him with hestitent steps, a child again if only he could see her.
She stands as far from him as he will tolerate, head down, and listens. If she could shrink now she would but she would not leave. It is not that she could not make a dash for the door, It is not that she does not dare. It is just that something in his manner takes the will from her.
At some point he stands up and takes her chin in his hand. She raises her head at his demand and is forced to look into his eyes. It is there that she sees it. Her sense of self is lowered, not demeaned or lessened, but lowered into a deeper part of her.
When he puts her over his knee he speaks to her. He uses all of the words that make her ears prick up at parties, all those magic words. “Spank,” “Naughty”, “Little girl” and all the rest that make her sink lower across his knees. He describes her behaviour, how she has let him down, how she has this coming to her and what he sees. He tells her that he can see her there, a silly little girl with her knickers round her ankles waiting across his knee to be punished.
