A post by OldFashionedGirl, in which she ponders the motivation of a blog visitor using the search term ‘volleyball dominatrix’, really put me in a sporty kind of mood. Well, okay, if I must be strictly accurate, a kinky, sporty kind of mood.
And I found that, even though her post concerned volleyball (and dominatrices), I involuntarily began to imagine myself as a tennis player – in public, a dedicated, professional athlete, famous and respected; in private, a brat who needed to be (and was) frequently spanked, my little dress flipped up, my tight knickers pulled down, and my spoilt little buns toasted right there in the locker room – and then I started a little search for sexy pictures that would provide vivid colour to my imaginings...
…like this picture of the gorgeous Maria Sharapova, for example:
Such a pained expression on her pretty face, and such an undignified position to find herself in – it’s almost as if she is being spanked. Mmm... what a lovely thing to think about! The elegant Russian beauty held firmly down across her coach’s lap, her knickers halfway down her perfect, long legs; a proud little Miss reduced to squirming and kicking pathetically as her pert, bare cheeks are smacked an ever more painful red. And how she howls! ;o)
Yet even without spankings, I can’t help thinking how terribly humiliating it must be to be a female tennis pro: to be obliged to wear such short skirts, which fly up and reveal your knickers with each and every movement (and this in a sport that demands constant motion); to have to play outdoors, so that your modesty is at the constant mercy of the slightest breath of wind; to have the world’s cameras trained on you, ready to capture and transmit your image around the globe (whether you like it or not)...
...so (to return to our favourite subject!) just imagine having to go out and play with a freshly-spanked bottom! The very instant that pitilessly short skirt gusted up so much as an inch, your status as a brat would be plain for all to see. There would be no hiding place, no concealing your glowing derrière, no way to save your blushes. Ooh! :o)
And, I know, I’m being a hypocrite, expressing sympathy whilst adding (in my own small way) to the panoply of internet images of Miss Sharapova. But hey, it’s my blog. And besides, I really have quite a crush on her...
Yum. (If you’re reading this, Maria, call me! xxx)
And I found that, even though her post concerned volleyball (and dominatrices), I involuntarily began to imagine myself as a tennis player – in public, a dedicated, professional athlete, famous and respected; in private, a brat who needed to be (and was) frequently spanked, my little dress flipped up, my tight knickers pulled down, and my spoilt little buns toasted right there in the locker room – and then I started a little search for sexy pictures that would provide vivid colour to my imaginings...
…like this picture of the gorgeous Maria Sharapova, for example:
Such a pained expression on her pretty face, and such an undignified position to find herself in – it’s almost as if she is being spanked. Mmm... what a lovely thing to think about! The elegant Russian beauty held firmly down across her coach’s lap, her knickers halfway down her perfect, long legs; a proud little Miss reduced to squirming and kicking pathetically as her pert, bare cheeks are smacked an ever more painful red. And how she howls! ;o)
Yet even without spankings, I can’t help thinking how terribly humiliating it must be to be a female tennis pro: to be obliged to wear such short skirts, which fly up and reveal your knickers with each and every movement (and this in a sport that demands constant motion); to have to play outdoors, so that your modesty is at the constant mercy of the slightest breath of wind; to have the world’s cameras trained on you, ready to capture and transmit your image around the globe (whether you like it or not)...
...so (to return to our favourite subject!) just imagine having to go out and play with a freshly-spanked bottom! The very instant that pitilessly short skirt gusted up so much as an inch, your status as a brat would be plain for all to see. There would be no hiding place, no concealing your glowing derrière, no way to save your blushes. Ooh! :o)
And, I know, I’m being a hypocrite, expressing sympathy whilst adding (in my own small way) to the panoply of internet images of Miss Sharapova. But hey, it’s my blog. And besides, I really have quite a crush on her...
Yum. (If you’re reading this, Maria, call me! xxx)
Very nice Posting, Penny. Very nice blog. You must be a very good girl -- when you want to be.
ReplyDeleteYou actually hit on a big part of the fantasy that a lot of writers neglect: the AFTER impact of the spanking, in particular the humiliation of "showing your stripes" in the gym, in the showers, or (if the Headmaster is really mean and marks you low) in town in the days following your punishment.
ReplyDeleteFrom TIPTOPERS brilliantly written Cat's Curiosity on The Spanking Library Fiction Board, which I highly recommend to one and all. If you like it, please leave him a wonderful comment there!:
Even if those ninth graders had not been there it would still have been impossible to hide her punishment. Students at the school were very familiar with the aftereffects of a caning. They would instantly be able to spot the odd walk of a freshly caned girl and the way she gingerly sat down or squirmed on her chair. And some of the marks were on her upper thighs where they would sometimes show.
Then there were the showers after gym class. All the girls would want to examine and exclaim over the marks. Also she had an away lacrosse game at another school on Saturday and she knew the everybody, including the spectators, would be sure to see the marks that Mr. Brewster had purposely put lower on the back of her legs.
Cat knew many of the girls envied her good looks and high standing at the Academy and would love to tease her unmercifully. As she pondered on the humiliation that she was going to have to go through in the next few weeks she again started to get horny and her hand found its way back between her legs.
The more Cat thought of how embarrassed she was going to be the more randy she became. Thinking of all the humiliation to come was making her more and more aroused. Something then popped into her head that she had heard one of the freshman boys say outside the principal's office as she walked away. He had laughed and said to the group, "Catherine P. Sorbon. Now she's Catherine PP Sorebum." The other ninth graders had found that hilarious.
Cat knew from experience that everybody in the school would pick up on that nickname and from now on she would be and remembered as Catherine PP Sore Bum. That idea that she was going to go from being known as "Perfect Catherine Sorbon" to "Catherine PP Sorebum" made her feel as if she was going to die from mortification. That thought pushed her over the edge and she suddenly cried out with an earth shattering, explosive sexual climax that was even stronger than the first two.
Welcome, taskmaster! I'm glad you liked my post, and I can assure you that I am a very well-behaved girl! Ask anyone xxx
ReplyDeleteMmm... I like the sound of that story, imreadonly2... and I can completely identify with naughty Cat! Is there anything more arousing than humiliation? I know the effect it has on me, at least - I'm getting a wonderful, naughty, horny feeling in my tummy (and between my legs) just imagining being in Cat's shoes.
ReplyDeleteWould it be very bad if I slipped my hand into my panties and touched myself?
yes nice full fitting white panties pulled down for big spanks from her mummy for bratting .
ReplyDelete