Shrouded forms that start and sigh

Eye of toad, and wing of bat – it’s Halloween and Penny’s a brat! Thought I’d make a bit of an effort and spook this place up this year. Hope it isn’t too scary for you :D

Come on in and help yourself to a glass of witch’s blood (fruit punch); don’t mind the cobwebs everywhere. I’ve been meaning to tidy up for ages.

Little Penny’s out trick-or-treating, dressed as the cutest pumpkin you ever saw, so it’s probably safe to turn the lights down and spin a tale of terror...

*****

‘Twas a night as dark as the grave... a night so dark that even the bats that fluttered about had trouble seeing where they were going...

And over the misty moors came a pair of eerie, shuffling shapes, the smaller of which made a terrible sound; a forlorn wail, like a tortured spirit...

“Are you sure this is a short cut? My feet are killing me!”

“Oh shush, Penny! You’ve done nothing but moan the whole time we’ve been out!”

Penny pouted. Her feet did hurt! She was all set to moan once more when she saw a faintly glowing amber light in the distance. A house!

“BH, look!” she said, excitedly. “We can ask there for a drink and a sit down!”

Upon reaching the house, a little cottage set in a clearing, the weary pair were surprised when BH’s knock on the door went unanswered, for the house glowed brightly at every window and smoke puffed cheerfully from the chimney.

“Maybe they went out?” Penny offered with an unconvincing smile.

Both Penny and BH jumped as, the next moment, the heavy wooden door swung open with a long, loud creaking sound. Still with no-one apparently at home, BH cautiously stepped inside.

“Come in, it’s okay!” he called a few moments later. He showed Penny a note that he had found.

Help yourself to refreshments, travellers, and rest yourselves.

“Great!” Penny smiled. “I could do with just exactly those things! I wonder if they’ve got any cookies?”

With that, she trotted off in search of the kitchen and returned shortly afterwards, a gleeful smile on her face and a cookie jar in her arms. “Cookieee!” she giggled.

“Hang on,” BH said, putting a hand to Penny’s arm in caution. “There’s more.”

Don’t take more than your share or you shall get what you deserve.

“Yeah, right!” Penny smirked, plunging her hand into the jar. “That’s a good one!”

“Well, as silly as it sounds,” replied BH, “we’d better take it easy. We don’t want to upset anyone.”

Penny, cheeks bulging with cookies, gave an indifferent shrug and plopped herself down into a comfortable armchair.

“Mmm...” she smiled contentedly a good half-hour later, wiggling her toes in front of the fire, the white of her knee-length socks glowing orange in its light. “Those cookies were lovely. And so was that cheesecake! We should have found this place sooner!”

BH, decidedly less at ease than his near-horizontal girlfriend, knitted his fingers. “Okay, Penny, we’ve had a nice rest... perhaps we should get going soon.”

“Hey, not yet! I saw some chocolate cakes in the kitchen! I’m gonna make some more tea and see how many I can eat!”

“No, really, Pen...” BH cautioned, but his words were met with a sassily pushed-out rear and a stuck-out tongue as Penny hopped to her feet. “Penny want choklit!” she grinned.

But the greedy girl had only made it halfway across the lounge when a ghostly whisper came through the room like an icy breeze. “You shall get what you deserve...”

“Oh!” Penny squeaked as her dress suddenly flew up around her, revealing her bare legs, her tummy, and her bright red Cookie Monster panties. “Help!”

Penny’s ever-protective partner leapt to his feet to assist but was held from her by a mysterious power: he could only watch in dismay as Penny was lifted into the air as if by magic, legs kicking, her face a picture of anguish. “No! Help! Put me down!” she cried, but suspended in mid-air she stayed. And, try as she might, her pretty blue tea dress would not be pushed back down, and her most intimate attire remained steadfastly, and mortifyingly, on show.

BH, almost – but not quite – as horror-struck as Penny herself, gasped as he caught sight of a wooden spoon floating in from the kitchen... and right up behind his unsuspecting girlfriend. He winced, unable to speak, as Penny was bent forward as if over an invisible knee. And then, to his horror, the enchanted wooden implement drew itself back... and arced itself painfully down upon Penny’s soft bottom, right on the sit spot of her right buttock. WHACK!

“Oww!” Penny cried, her mouth and eyes thrown wide open with the surprising – and painful – sensation. She howled again as she was treated to a second fearsome swat, then a third, then a fourth.

“P-please! Let me down!” she cried, kicking her feet in futile protest as swat after hard swat scorched her squirming rear, the spoon roaming at will over the inviting target her backside presented and leaving stinging, pink marks wherever it struck. “I’m –OWW!– I’m s-sorry!”

But her pleas went unanswered and her naughty bottom was walloped until it glowed just as red as her childish panties. What a spectacle she made, wailing and bucking as she was beaten, her dress shamefully raised in the time-honoured tradition: she looked and sounded every inch a naughty girl getting just what she deserved. By the time she was let down and she ran into the arms of her boyfriend her sorrowful little face was soaked with tears.

“IdidntwannaspankinanImsorryIstolethecookiesanIwonteverbenaughtyagain!” she sobbed.

It wasn’t another minute until Penny and BH had dashed from the house and started back towards home, thankful to be out of the reach of witchcraft.

“I’m glad we’re out of that crazy place!” BH said, once they had got beyond sight of the house.

“Me too!” sniffled Penny, rubbing her well-spanked bottom with a rueful pout. “That was dreadful! That horrid spoon really stung!”

“Don’t you worry, princess,” BH said. “We won’t ever visit there again.”

Penny smiled and hugged her boyfriend’s arm, glad to feel so protected.

A little further down the road, she spoke again.

“Well...” she whimpered in a small voice, “maybe... maybe we could pop by again sometime...”

*****

Spine-tingling story, huh? Hope you liked it!

And just for a little more Halloween fun, here’s a spooky maze. Penny has wandered off and got lost and now she’s being frightened by bats and cats and all manner of things that go bump in the night. Can you help her find her way home?

Happy Halloween!

Ho ho oww!

Yay! My Christmas-themed short story is now complete :)

Called ‘The Spirit of Giving’, it’s a fun little M/F sketch with Santa as the M and a self-centred TV hostess as the naughty and deserving F, and I hope it pleases like a snifter of liqueur after a big turkey dinner.

It’s set to appear in an anthology of festive fiction, so I will let you know all about that as soon as I have the details. Excited! :D

On the subject of holidays, now is the perfect time to tell you about the rather fetching purple image adorning the top right corner of my blog. It’s in support of an event called ‘Spank or Treat’, a multi-blog extravaganza with free stories, quizzes, prizes, and a whole lot of spanking! The fun starts tomorrow, October 25, so get in the spooky spirit and check out the participating blogs :)

I’m not part of Spank or Treat but I’ll be putting my witch hat on and spooking my own blog up on Halloween itself. Fans of pumpkins, ghouls and other such creepy accoutrements be sure to pop by!

Forbidden pleasure

News of a brand new book. Not one by me, but by the prolific Anastasia Vitsky. The first in an ambitious new series, Ana’s fascinating new story is titled Becoming Clissine.

Set in another reality, a dystopian land in which heterosexuality is outlawed, marriages are arranged and corporal punishment is firmly ingrained into everyday life, the story follows one woman’s struggle to overcome the intolerant society she was born into; her struggle to pursue love and retain her identity. It’s a darker piece than a lot of spanking fiction, and an affecting read.

There’s a lot in there, a lot of layers and several different expressions of kink, and one element that might be of particular interest (to some) is the presence of ageplay. The protagonist is forced as part of her ‘re-education’ to start life again with a new family, quite literally in the role of a child, and is treated accordingly (at least in spanking fiction terms). Speaking personally, this is one of those fantasies that really touches a lot of my buttons – including ones marked ‘visceral fear’ and ‘blissful escapism’ – and Ana explores it with sensitivity.

The beautiful cover image below links to the book’s Amazon page:

And a video trailer is on YouTube!

Round Table Discussion: Bringing spanking into a relationship

Is it time for another round table discussion? It is indeed! Today’s topic comes from the lovely Katherine Deane and concerns the hows, whys and wherefores of bringing kink into relationships. So no theorising for once!

I can say without hesitation or fear of contradiction that I am the one who brought spanking and all the other kinky stuff my partner (BH, my Better Half) and I do into our relationship. He was quite the vanilla gentleman before I got my hands on him, in fact. Whereas I had been a twisted little pixie since forever.

We’ve been together for four and a half years now, and my ass being smacked has been a part of things for four of those. I really didn’t waste much time in revealing my kinky side to him...

I can still vividly remember the moment I raised the question. We were lying on his bed in his student digs, sleepily cuddling after a hard day’s studying (no joke: we both worked our asses off at uni; my eyes hurt from the amount of reading I did sometimes), the lights were low, it was just a really safe, cosy, loving environment. (Very red, too: crimson wallpaper!) Neither of us had said anything for a while, but it was one of those not-a-problem silences, where we were both totally comfortable. And I turned my head slightly toward him, and said, “BH... [that is his actual name; amazing coincidence] ...this is going to sound very random, but... have you ever spanked anyone before?”

A gentle, surprised laugh. It turned out he hadn’t.

Looking back, I think I was pretty brave to just put it out there in the way I did. I knew BH pretty well – we had been friends before getting together – but I didn’t really know how he would react to his girlfriend dropping an ‘S’ bomb out of the blue. I guess I just trusted some instinct that told me he would be receptive rather than dismissive; that he would be open-minded enough for me to reveal something that was important to me, even if he wasn’t kinky himself, and not ridicule me for it. He’s just that sort of person.

The hardest, scariest bit over, the Rubicon crossed, (and, to be fair, his interest piqued), I nuzzled into his chest and told him all about how I enjoyed being spanked. How it satisfied something that I couldn’t quite explain; how it really, really turned me on. (I might have stroked him in various strategic places as I expounded upon the pleasures of erotic kinky play. Feminine wiles... :D)

I was mindful to explain that such things were perfectly natural and very widely practiced; that young ladies the world over enjoyed corporal punishment as part of their sex lives.

And I asked him if he would maybe like to spank me sometime, as part of foreplay.

And, bless his heart, he said he would.

Spin on four years and he’s the toppiest top anyone could wish for, beating me silly, scolding me, stripping me, tying me up, tying me down, roleplaying with the best of them, fucking me senseless, leaving me a bedraggled, orgasmic wreck once he’s finished with me.

I’m so glad I took a chance and asked the question I did in that cosy, book-filled red room.

A virgin bottom gets spanked

It’s Saturday! The spankiest day of the week!

My contribution to Saturday Spankings this time is a scene from my F/F WIP in which never-before-spanked Emily finds herself bent over, fearfully awaiting punishment at the hands of her lover, Charlotte.

“You are an adult, Emily. An adult with responsibilities that you should take seriously. Each of the smacks I give you is a reminder of that fact. As each one comes I want you to think about what you have done to earn it. Will you do that for me?”

I closed my eyes, scarcely daring to breathe, heart thumping against my chest, trying to comprehend the moment. “Yes,” I whispered.

I should probably have anticipated the first smack but it came as a surprise, a sudden flash of pain and sound throwing my eyes open.

Here are all the blogs taking part in Saturday Spankings this week:

Mini-break

I’m going to be away for a few days – with no computer and no internet, quelle horreur – so no more nonsense from me until at least next Tuesday, I’m afraid.

Actually, having said that, I will astound and amaze you by making a post appear automagically while I’m gone: an extract of my novella for Saturday Spankings. (On, er, Saturday).

I hope you like it :) Now, I’m off to the Sleepy Pines Home for the Terribly Overwrought to spend a little quality time in a nice soft room.

Scribbling in progress

I probably don’t write about my non-blog writing as much as I should, but I will henceforth try to do better! Call it a three-quarters of the way through the year resolution.

Right now I’m working on a Christmas-themed short story for an anthology (more on that once it’s complete) and the glorious mess that is my F/F romance novella. I’m making erratic progress with both, so – all being well – you might see new stuff by The World’s Slowest Writer in the near future. Whee!

To restate some of what I said here, writing a longer-form story is really proving challenging for me. Fun and exciting and liberating, of course, but definitely also challenging. My comfort zone is the short story, and I think that type of writing really suits my approach (such as it is). But I think the process of writing a longer piece is itself making me a better writer: it’s making me stretch myself, think about things in a different way, re-examine my craft and the decisions I make. And of course there is just so much more room: more textures, more layers, more space for the characters and the text itself to breathe.

As I said in opening, I’ll try to keep you updated with my progress and share snippets to build your fevered anticipation... like a proper writer! :D

Completely different subject, but after two and a half years I’ve finally spruced my blog up a bit :) Isn’t it shiny? I hope you like it. The header is an actual photo of my writing desk, and the pink bits at the sides are the contents of my head. Best not viewed with a hangover.

Round Table Discussion: Roleplay

What’s that sound I hear? Why, it’s a gaggle of beautiful, spanky people gathering at the round table for another edifying discussion! The topic this time is one very close to my heart. Roleplay!

It will come as no shock to regular readers to hear that I love to indulge in roleplay as part of kinky sex. I love dressing as a schoolgirl and being punished in detention; I love dressing as a maid and being thoroughly chastised by the master of the house. There are loads of fantasy situations and roles (and outfits) that I enjoy, and many more that I would like to try. (Cheerleader in a kidnap/non-consent fantasy is top of the to-try list, should anyone fancy forking out for a uniform).

But whether I’m playing a naughty secretary about to have her pencil skirt hitched up against her will or an ageplay daughter in trouble with a strict Daddy, the common factor is that it just feels SO damn good to cast off all of my usual cares for a while and immerse myself in another reality. One in which nothing matters but the rules my partner and I create; one in which the physicality of things, the sensuality of things, is central. For as long as we remain in the fantasy school of our shared imaginations, in a very real sense I am a schoolgirl, powerlessly subject to strict, humiliating discipline and the lustful attentions of my teacher. And those scolding words, that wagging finger, and that frightful, scorching ruler on my backside, are all I care about.

Escapism is of course a significant part of the experience, as the above hopefully attests. But I think that this act of escape is not as straightforward as it might seem: it is certainly not just a matter of ‘dressing up’. The proximity of roleplay to sex (and kink) is one complicating factor, as this introduces a level of physical and emotional intensity to the experience that renders it profoundly corporeal. A second is the liberating quality of escapism itself. I think that the sensation of escapism – an experience in which I am, essentially, escaping myself – ironically helps me become more aware of myself. It frees me to focus; it gives me licence to feel, and to relish, more completely. This dual experience, this simultaneous escape/centring, is perhaps comparable to the experience of submission and the phenomenon of ‘subspace’.

Okay, that’s enough theorising :)

Did I mention that I love to play as a maid? This fantasy vies with schoolgirl as my favourite as it is so damn hot. Different, of course: more licentious, more adult. I love the power dynamic, and the helplessness it affords me; I love that my partner knows he is free to do with me just as he pleases, however depraved or humiliating or painful his attentions might prove. I have been bent over a table and bound (minus my knickers of course), been verbally lashed and physically thrashed, then had his big, hard cock forced into my wicked little mouth... I can’t adequately describe the feeling I get as I pleasure him like that, an abject, shameful whore, tears running down my face, my bottom and legs agonisingly red from my thrashing. Let’s go with AMAZING. And then, when he strides round behind me, and tells me I deserve to be fucked like the wanton little bitch I am, and he forces his throbbing, steel-hard cock into me, every last yelp-inducing inch of it, and he pounds and pounds just as hard as he can, each thrust jolting me, making me gasp, his hips slamming against my tender skin...

And all the while he whispers (and growls) cruel, demeaning words, disdainfully reminding me of my lowly status, of his ownership of me... and warns that I will be sorely regretful if I have the audacity to come...

Yep, that’s my idea of a thoroughly good time.

That’s what this naughty girl thinks about roleplay, anyway. What does it mean to you? Please share your thoughts – I'd love to hear them!

And check out what the other kinky peeps round the table have to say:

Pumkins and lawndry and being a pony

We haven’t heard from that adorable poppet Little Penny for a while, have we? Not since... goodness! Not since February, in fact!

Well, as luck would have it ;) I have that very lady here with me today. I thought a little Q&A might be fun as, while I have been invited once or twice to bare my soul, the young Miss Hasler is distinctly less bared. A shame. But I’ve got a big bag of jelly tots and a set of probing questions, so I’ll see if I can rectify that.

What have you been up to today, Penny?

i got up an bounced on daddys bed (he sleeps for ages cos hes OLD) an had frostys for brekfast an a shower an got drest (daddy helpd a bit an so did mr hugs) – i always giggle wen daddy tickles me! then i helpd daddy wiv lawndry an tidyin an stuf an then we went to the super markit an got lotsa nice fings! daddy takes me cos i help. an now im here.

That’s a very nice drawing you’re doing. What is it of?

issa pony! shes called... hm... litenin, an shes clever an pretty like me. dat scribble by her leg is where i went wrong.

It’s Halloween soon. Are you looking forward to it?

yehyeh! haloween is GREAT cos its wen you get pumkins an choklit an sweets an all drest up an im only a bit scared cos im big now. im gonna be a witch or maybe a pumkin.

What is your favourite way to spend time?

mm... i like lotsa fings! my favrit is bein wiv daddy. i like it wen we go to the park an he pushes me on the swing. an i like it wen we snuggle! i feel all safe an warm.

Are there any things you don’t like?

spankins! an borin stuf like brockoly an corner time. an scary fings like big geece.

Do you have a favourite story?

goldylocks! i like it when she sleeps in the beds an scofs the porrige an the bears are all cross! daddy says im like goldylocks wen he reads it to me. hes SILLY !

What would you like to be when you grow up?

i AM grown up! an imma penny! an sometimes imma pony. i can do that. nenenemmm...

Hm. Penny has climbed down from the sofa and started rolling on the floor. Which I think might signal an end to the interview. I hope you enjoyed her thoughts; if you have anything you’d like to ask her, go right ahead in the comments and I’ll see if I can get her attention.