The things I do for my readers...
Last night I was dared by a nice young man from America called Nick to perform a cartoony ‘gulp’ in public. Because a) I can do them, and b) girls doing them turn him on. Good enough for me!
So this afternoon I popped out for lunch at a nearby tearooms – clientele mostly ladies of a certain age, atmosphere one of slightly sniffy pretension – purely because I thought it would be a suitable spot for a bit of cartoon gulping. It’s unusually sunny and warm in England just now so I wore a breezy white floral dress, sandals and a sun hat. Bare legs in March! It’s hard to believe.
(In case you’re interested, once seated I ordered a pot of tea, some cucumber sandwiches and a strawberry muffin).
The room was quite small and the tables quite close together, so I could hear every bit of conversation. Most of the talking came from one woman sitting at a table just to my right. She droned on and on (in an unnecessarily loud voice) to her friend (who couldn’t get a word in) about the exploits of her grown-up offspring. “Mark’s just back from Marrakesh, you know... blah blah blah... Eleanor attended a lecture given by an authority on the Restoration...” Woop-e-do, I thought, daintily munching my sandwich. I didn’t really mind her showing-off; I just wished I had a dining companion at that moment so I could tell her made-up things with overdone gravitas as a bit of mischievous fun. “Well, you know, the only really authentic zebra meat is that farmed in the mountains of Kenya*. My partner has a tea concern in the region, you see, so we find ourselves out there quite a bit.”
* pronounced ‘Keen-ya’ for extra pomposity.
My big moment came when I asked for the bill. The waitress (a girl probably about the same age as me) came to my table and handed me the slip. I reached for my bag and idly rummaged around in it for my purse. And then I rummaged some more. And then, with an air of slight panic, held my bag open and looked right into it.
Moments later I did my best ‘I’m in trouble now’ cartoony gulp, looked up at the waitress with my best worried expression, and said “I’m terribly sorry, but I don’t seem to have my purse with me…”
Suddenly I could feel the eyes and ears of the room on me. Even the loud, proud woman at the next table had stopped talking. I could imagine the thoughts of my fellow lunching ladies so vividly I could practically hear them:
“Oh, how embarrassing!”
“Poor dear. And such a pretty little thing!”
“Silly girl! Of course, I’ve never forgotten my purse in fifty-seven years!”
The waitress’s reaction? She somehow managed to look at once amused, surprised, suspicious, embarrassed (for me), generally nonplussed and unsure of what to do. The funny thing was, I felt sorry for her! She was a second away from summoning the manager, I sensed, when I patted a side pocket on my bag, unzipped it, and produced my purse. And then she looked relieved, and laughed politely. As did I. And everyone thought me very silly and went back to their own private intrigues.
What an actress I yam!
Last night I was dared by a nice young man from America called Nick to perform a cartoony ‘gulp’ in public. Because a) I can do them, and b) girls doing them turn him on. Good enough for me!
So this afternoon I popped out for lunch at a nearby tearooms – clientele mostly ladies of a certain age, atmosphere one of slightly sniffy pretension – purely because I thought it would be a suitable spot for a bit of cartoon gulping. It’s unusually sunny and warm in England just now so I wore a breezy white floral dress, sandals and a sun hat. Bare legs in March! It’s hard to believe.
(In case you’re interested, once seated I ordered a pot of tea, some cucumber sandwiches and a strawberry muffin).
The room was quite small and the tables quite close together, so I could hear every bit of conversation. Most of the talking came from one woman sitting at a table just to my right. She droned on and on (in an unnecessarily loud voice) to her friend (who couldn’t get a word in) about the exploits of her grown-up offspring. “Mark’s just back from Marrakesh, you know... blah blah blah... Eleanor attended a lecture given by an authority on the Restoration...” Woop-e-do, I thought, daintily munching my sandwich. I didn’t really mind her showing-off; I just wished I had a dining companion at that moment so I could tell her made-up things with overdone gravitas as a bit of mischievous fun. “Well, you know, the only really authentic zebra meat is that farmed in the mountains of Kenya*. My partner has a tea concern in the region, you see, so we find ourselves out there quite a bit.”
* pronounced ‘Keen-ya’ for extra pomposity.
My big moment came when I asked for the bill. The waitress (a girl probably about the same age as me) came to my table and handed me the slip. I reached for my bag and idly rummaged around in it for my purse. And then I rummaged some more. And then, with an air of slight panic, held my bag open and looked right into it.
Moments later I did my best ‘I’m in trouble now’ cartoony gulp, looked up at the waitress with my best worried expression, and said “I’m terribly sorry, but I don’t seem to have my purse with me…”
Suddenly I could feel the eyes and ears of the room on me. Even the loud, proud woman at the next table had stopped talking. I could imagine the thoughts of my fellow lunching ladies so vividly I could practically hear them:
“Oh, how embarrassing!”
“Poor dear. And such a pretty little thing!”
“Silly girl! Of course, I’ve never forgotten my purse in fifty-seven years!”
The waitress’s reaction? She somehow managed to look at once amused, surprised, suspicious, embarrassed (for me), generally nonplussed and unsure of what to do. The funny thing was, I felt sorry for her! She was a second away from summoning the manager, I sensed, when I patted a side pocket on my bag, unzipped it, and produced my purse. And then she looked relieved, and laughed politely. As did I. And everyone thought me very silly and went back to their own private intrigues.
What an actress I yam!
sounds like some one is a naughty lil actress if you ask me . "grins" You like doing things that others tell you to , of go to a store that you never go to , purchase a belt that you can wear and as your checking out mention that your not looking forward to the evening since you will probably get a spanking when u get home
ReplyDelete"chuckles"
The only thing missing was you penelope having your knickers pulled down and your bare bottom spanked in public.
ReplyDeleteCorrection Man.
I am impressed-my only wonder is, do you think the waitress knew what you were doing when you gulped? Also, I wonder if people at other tables could really hear you. Was it one of your better louder gulps?
ReplyDeleteThe whole experience sounded very humiliating. Actually, could this be the first time you've tried public humiliation in actual public!? You finally did it! Was it a turn on?I mean, it wasn't a public spanking or anything, but it was humilating none the less.Must have been a thrill.
aq4u2008: nice idea - I'll have to do just that sometime!
ReplyDeleteCorrection Man: aw! Pout, pout! Not in front of everyone!
Nick: aha, the villain of the piece!
I'm pretty sure the waitress just thought I was genuinely embarrassed at forgetting my purse. She definitely heard my gulp. Others, possibly: it was pretty loud, after all!
And it was the first time I had tried public humiliation, yes. It was quite a thrill, but in a strange kind of way, because I knew I was only pretending to be unable to pay. So I guess it felt primarily like a naughty game that I was in charge of. Kind of like a prank, I guess.
But, having said that, I did feel butterflies; I did have to summon up the courage to go through with it, to make myself look silly in such a snooty establishment. And I did feel quite embarrassed when I knew everyone was looking at me. And that was quite nice :)
I like that I was able to make you humiliate yourslef in public-quite a feeling of control over you! I will have to think up some more dares to see if you really will "do anything for your readers"
ReplyDeletealthough because you ar british you were drinking tea, but have you ever had coffee? if you haven't I dare you to drink a mug full!
Hehe!
ReplyDeleteNow you're putting words in my mouth (and I bet that's not all you want to put in there, too) - I said "the things I do for my readers" rather than I'd "do anything" for them. But I'm glad my obedience gave you pleasure, and I'm always open to suggestions...
I have tried coffee, but I'm not that keen on it (too bitter) and I haven't had any for quite a while. From what I remember, though, it does tend to perk me up a bit!
I know your game - you want a hyper Penny to get herself into trouble! Bouncing around like Tigger, lol!
I was wondering if you were actually spanked when you were a kid in real life. Don't you kind of have to get spanked in order to develop the fetish for it? Personally, I wasn't really spanked-but my fetish is more for me punishing the girls then for the taking of punishment myself.
ReplyDeleteAh, the perennial question: 'is a spanko born or made?'
ReplyDeleteI was only ever spanked by a parent (my mother) once, aged thirteen, when I broke a window. Yet for as long as I can remember - certainly for years before that day - I've found the idea of being spanked exciting. I even used to spank myself as a little girl in an attempt to satisfy the strange urges I felt.
So I'm very much in the 'born' camp :)
Oh, and funnily enough, I didn't enjoy the spanking for window-breaking one bit. Because I knew I had genuinely upset my Mum, caused her real distress at a time when she really didn't need it, and I just felt so bad that any spank-induced arousal I might have felt in different circumstances didn't get a look in.
I know that's not a sexy answer, but it's the truth :)
so you have an overall good relationship still with your parents/family?
ReplyDeleteOy vey! Always with the questions he is coming! (I'm not Jewish really).
ReplyDeleteMy Dad's no longer with us, sadly. I miss him a lot.
ReplyDeleteBut sure, I had a great relationship with him and I do with the rest of my family. We're tight. As they say.
I wonder, do you think the girl who was waiting on you thought you were doing a fake "gulp" to be funny? Or do you think she thought you were actually gulping and it just sounded loud?
ReplyDeleteDo you work at a real job by any chance or are you just a pro writer? I think a job would be a great place to work in some gulps. I dare you to do that! if you are talking to a co-worker-come up with a hypothetical situation and say something like "what do you think the boss would do to me if I (fill in the blank)" then of course they would tell you the dire consequence that would happen to you and you could do a gulp in response.
Or even if you are a pro-writer, just ask your editor what will happen if you miss a deadline or something and then do a gulp.