A little light relief

Have I fallen off the world? No, not quite, but I am experiencing turbulence in my personal life so spanky stuff has been kinda beyond me lately. Sorry for the lack of fun – I’ve missed you all and I hope you’re doing okay.

A place I like to go when I’m feeling down is the land of silliness and humour, with a leaning toward the sorts of jokes that Little Penny enjoys. So I’d like to share a few puns and make you groan :)

And to do so I shall employ a neat (and geeky) little thing that I used in my Love Spanks post: a ‘peekaboo button’. This reveals text when you click on it, thanks to the magic of Science. I’m sure there are lots of interesting ways to use such a thing, but the one that occurred to me was the telling of (terrible) jokes... click at your own risk!

It overswept!

Snap!

Make a noise like a carrot!

Oh my... those are some seriously bad jokes. As a reward for enduring them, and if you’re not all clicked out, I’d like to share a very neat picture that a dear friend drew for me.

This!

Little Penny is hooting with laughter right now (or perhaps honking)... please imagine a teadressed poppet rolling about in a most undignified fashion, in imminent danger of wetting herself. And we all know what happens to little girls who do that, don’t we?

If you have any jokes (child-friendly or otherwise) that you’d like to share, please do so in the comments!

A visit to a naughty girl

(With apologies to Clement Clarke Moore. And Beatrix Potter. And all other authors!)

‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all thro’ the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse...
...but, look! A little girl, climbing down from her bed!
With naughty little thoughts running through her blonde head.

Penny crept out of bed as quietly as she could; she knew she would be in terrible trouble if Daddy heard her. All was silent and dark in her room, for it was midnight on the most magical night of the year... Christmas Eve.

She should of course have been sleeping, like all the other girls and boys, but an impulse had gripped her imagination. She wanted to see Santa. So what if it was naughty to want that? She was sure Santa wouldn’t mind when he saw her happy little face.

She slipped her dressing gown on and tiptoed across her bedroom, then across the landing and down the stairs, being as careful and stealthy as a cat.

Cre-eak! went a step under her foot, halfway down the stairs. Oh, stupid step!

She breathed a quiet sigh of relief when Daddy didn’t emerge from his room. She carried on down the rest of the stairs, being extra-double-careful and stealthy.

Once downstairs she skipped with glee. She was going to see Santa! The real one! With the reindeer and the presents! She was sure he would think her the sweetest girl in the world, and maybe – she guiltily thought to herself – he would give her an extra gift for being so cute. Smiling with such happy thoughts she bounced onto an armchair and curled up to wait for her magical visitor.

*****

Some time later, she was startled by a sudden sound: she realised she must have drifted off to sleep while waiting. The noise was coming from the chimney – it had to be Santa!

Suddenly not so sure of his approval of her being awake, she determined to hide. She looked about herself, fixed upon a spot beneath the dining table, and scooted there as quick as a rabbit.

A few moments later, her curiosity too strong to resist, she peeked out from her shady hiding place. Despite her best efforts to stay silent she gasped in wonder as, sure enough, the portly red figure of Santa emerged from the fireplace, big black boots first.

Her gasp hadn’t been especially loud but it had been enough. Her little heart leapt into her mouth as Santa turned to her hiding place... then paced toward it... then bent down and looked straight at her, a displeased expression on his bearded, saintly face.

“And what, young lady, are you doing out of bed?” he demanded.

Thoroughly discovered, Penny gulped and sheepishly crept out from under the table, her little face glowing as crimson as Santa’s coat.

“I... I wanted to see you...” she whimpered into her chest.

Santa made an ominous harrumphing sound and pulled a roll of parchment from his pocket. “Ah yes,” he said. “Penelope... Hasler. Oh, yes indeed. You know, I don’t think you would have stayed up to see me if you knew what I had in store for you!”

Penny’s tummy sank with an all-too-familiar feeling. The feeling that she got when she was in for a spanking. Yet the sight of Santa’s sack of toys in the corner of her eye gave her one last flicker of hope. She looked up at him with her most appealing, wide-eyed expression. “Is it... a new doll?” she ventured with a timid little smile.

Santa laughed. “Ho ho, no! Oh, that’s a good one!”

Penny frowned in disappointment. And then she wailed as she was grasped firmly by the wrist and dragged across the lounge to the armchair she had sat curled up in not five minutes before.

“It’s not a doll you’re getting, my girl!” Santa boomed. “You have been bad all year long – the number of entries you have on my naughty list bears sad testimony to that – and tonight’s indiscretion is just the icing on the cake!”

And in the blink of a reindeer’s eye poor Penny lay helpless across Santa’s lap, her sky-blue nightdress up round her waist, her childish pink panties down round her knees. And then her little bare bottom bounced and squirmed under Santa’s hard hand as he set about slapping a much-needed lesson into her.

“Naughty girls get spankings!” he scolded, proving his point with emphatic (and painful) zeal. “And you have to be about the naughtiest little girl I’ve ever known!”

“Ooh! Ow! Owch!” Penny squealed, her slippered feet kicking, her blonde mane bucking, her little face a deeply flushed picture of sorrow. “I... I’m sor-ry!”

And she was sorry. Very sorry indeed. Santa spanked very hard, and long before he had finished poor Penny bawled in pain and sorrow, certain she could take no more. She was sorry the entire hour she spent standing in the corner, her little red bottom glowing in the night-time darkness. She was sorry as she lay in bed, sucking her thumb and rubbing the soreness away.

And she was sorry the next morning when she woke to find nothing but a note in her little red stocking.

Dear Daddy,

Penny has been very naughty this year and so I have spanked her and left her no gifts. I strongly urge you to spank her again today and send her to bed early.

Yours, Santa.

Poor, silly Penny. She had promised Santa that she would be good – “the bestest little girl ever!” – as he had expertly roasted her rear, and she would promise her Daddy the same when she was turned over his knee for a second, equally-thorough, Christmas Day spanking. And during each ordeal she cried just as pitifully as the ‘real tears’ doll she had set her heart on receiving, her little heart breaking with remorse...

...yet come December 26 she would be just as naughty as ever!

So as poor Penny sobs, her behind burning bright –
Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!

Have a great time, everyone :D

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.

grown ups are silly! but im GREAT an CLEVER! :D

HI pennys friends!!!

daddy finks im playin wiv my ponys in my room but im on pennys computer while shes out an iv made her silly old page look much better! i did it wiv my pink felt tip. i like drawin, its fun. penny shud hav a drawin of a pony not a borin old pen! iv put a cupple of stikers on this letter to briten it up.

this is gonna be a FUN letter insted of the sort penny rites an i can rite it wiv no help from daddy or anyone (okay, mr hugs can help) cos im super clever! daddy always says so an mrs cooper next door does too wen she sees me an i can count ALL my fingers and toes AN say the alfabet all the way to the end. this mornin i made brekfast ALL BY MYSELF an i only got a bit of milk on the counter an i watched dora explora in my jammies then i ran upstairs an got drest.

im wearin a blue dress an its pretty like me an white socks an pink panties wiv kermit on. daddy brushd my hair which i like an he put a clip in wiv a pretend flower. i like flowers an i like daisys best.

penny is BORIN an she always rites about silly stuff like spankin an people come an talk about it an her poems are okay but still borin an i could do a better one.

daddy is fat!
he sat on a cat!
ow! meow! meow!
what a flat cat!

wen i grow up im gonna be a doctor or a famus actres an hav a big house like my barbie has, AN a swimmin pool AN a kichin but im not gettin marrid cos boys are silly.

kjasgeuebfioauayuiu437846723489jhsdhkakjhskjadkja!!!!!!

dats the longest word in the whole world an most people dont know what it means but i do cos im clever. it means...

mm...

its what people in the souf pole say wen they meet a pengwin. a man pengwin! they say a diffrent fing to lady ones. the souf pole is cold like it was here last week wen daddy said i had to wear a scarf an gloves an a hat an there was snow an i made a snowman. it was a snow daddy an it was fat like daddy! i like hot choklit even mor wen outside is cold.

anyway spankin is SILLY an i dont like it wen daddy or aunty andea spank me. they make my botty all hot an it stings an i cry an feel all sad. im not gonna be spanked EVER again cos im too big for it an imma princess an i DONT need it even wen they say i do an grown ups are silly an so THERE!

im gonna go play wiv mr hugs now an go into space an get saved by my pony from mean space pyrits an maybe jump on my bed.

rite if you like but dont rite anyfin SILLY !

i gotta go wiv aunty andea to her house now an i dont fink its for cookies.

Dear Santa, love Penny

Wanna see something cute and Christmassy? And by cute I mean really goshdarn cute? (You just know this is going to involve Little Penny, don’t you?) ;D

The young Miss Hasler, like many, many other little girls and boys the world over, writes a letter to Santa each year. Her Daddy tells me that she penned this year’s missive – in her very carefullest handwriting, on her special snowy notepaper, mais oui – on Thursday evening, lying on the rug in front of the fire, so deep in concentration that she didn’t answer when asked if she would like a yummy hot chocolate. (Daddy brought her one anyway). Trust me, that says a lot about the importance of the undertaking.

I feel a bit mean showing Penny’s sekrit and confidential correspondence to you but it is just too sweet not to share. Don’t worry, it will of course be safely delivered to Santa right after this. I hope reading it gives you the same warm feeling inside that it gave me. And I hope Penny gets everything she asks for.

Sorry... think I might have something in my eye. *sniff*

Happy Fanksgivin!

Sorry about the quietness: I’ve been having rather a busy week. (I dunno... people expectin me to work... tsk... I’ll show them when I’m Queen...)

But busy or not I want to wish all my American friends a very happy Thanksgiving Day. I hope you all have a wonderful time!

Little Penny has a message about the day, too:

Hm. I’ve just thought: should Thanksgiving be ‘Spanksgiving’ for kinky folks? I suppose it should! And I know I must be the ten millionth person to have had that thought... ;D

24 going on 6

I had intended to put this post up yesterday but I had to quickly get ready post-work and go back out as BH surprised me with a meal out. Aww. Still, at least no post meant that Bonnie Appreciation Day lasted for two days here :)

And the idea of a day making a difference (not to mention a day of celebration for a special girl :D) is quite apposite for this little musing, as it happens.

I was born on February 28th, 1988. Things got started at about 10.30 in the morning, to be exact (I apparently interrupted my Mum’s shopping trip... typical me. I was a little bit early, hence her unpreparedness).

And this matters why? Because 1988 was a leap year, so if I had been a little more patient (say, by one day) I would have been born on February 29th. And that day only occurs once every four years.

As a nearly-leap year baby I have often wondered what that would be like. I know I would get older by a year like everyone else, but, officially speaking, I would only get a birthday every four years, as Feb 29 would disappear from the calendar for the other three. And that would make me officially six right now, rather than twenty-four.

Which would probably explain a lot.

Little Penny says: bein six is great an I got a cake on my birfday an it was pink an I wore my faverit dress an I can count to six all by myself but I need to use bofe hands cos six is...

...

...one more than five. I dunno how menny twennyfour is but it sounds ain-shunt!

Little Penny: real-life edition

Isn’t it funny, the things that you remember? I’ve been thinking back to my school days and in particular right back to the earliest ones. The passage of time has blurred much of that period and the events within it (that doubtless seemed so terribly important at the time) into an impressionistic haze, but certain moments stay with me.

I think I remember them because they were unexpected, and they shook me. (Don’t worry, they’re nothing heavy: they’re more ‘Peanuts’ than anything). The thing is, I was a good girl at school. Certainly at primary school, I would say I was very good. Quiet and gentle, I listened intently to my teachers, I always tried my best with my work, I never threw fits or teased or fought with the other kids. A model pupil, in my own humble opinion. Yet every so often I would be told off and/or humiliated by teachers as if I was a naughty little tearaway; scolded really harshly and disproportionately (to my mind) for minor and unintended offences. I didn’t understand why I was being told off at the time, and I must say I still don’t... maybe the schools I went to just had an unusually high number of bitter and twisted teachers. Or maybe my sparkiness was taken as cockiness, something that I figure is like a red rag to teaching professionals. I dunno.

Anyway, one such incident occurred when I was six. I can’t remember exactly what our task was, but it was definitely a writing task. It might have been to copy words down from the board, or maybe to write about our parents, or maybe about the job we would like to do when we were all grown up. (I love that expression. Oh, and I wanted to be an astronaut). Bottom line, it involved pencils and exercise books. (Ah, writing in pencil! Those were the days. I still remember the sadness I felt at having to move up to writing in ink).

Much deep thought and leg-swinging later, I had written whatever it was I had to write. However, being an inveterate tweaker/perfectionist (even then) I found I wanted to change a line or two. I didn’t have a rubber (‘eraser’ to my American readers), so I used some six-year-old-style initiative and used my finger instead. Rub, rub, rub, write, write, write, sorted. I took my work up to the teacher’s desk, smiling and grubby-fingered, and waited my turn to have it marked.

This is where the crazy teacher bit comes in.

When my turn came, I don’t remember the teacher saying a single thing about what I had written – you know, the actual content of the exercise and the point of us both being there – I just remember her letting fly at me for the heinous crime I had thoughtlessly committed. “And what is this supposed to be?” she cried (and I mean really bellowed). “You don’t use your finger to rub work out, you stupid girl! Use a rubber!”

I’m six years old, remember, and now blushing and trembling at the front of the class as my teacher shouts at me. The rest of the scene is a bit of a blur in my memory, though I know it basically consisted of her lambasting me for my wickedness a while longer at an entirely unnecessary volume, me wondering why she was overreacting so much (and wishing I had used a rubber), and a sad trudge back to my seat, deeply stung and not feeling very clever. One particular thing she said I will always remember, though I don’t think I will ever understand why she said it: “You’re not as popular as you think you are, young lady!”

???

What has popularity got to do with not having an eraser? I was one baffled six-year-old that day.

Little Penny and the wardrobe monster

As we haven’t heard from little Penny for a while I thought I’d invite her over to tell me (and you) about anything she had on her mind. After eating me clean out of cookies she sat with a thoughtful look on her chocolatey face, legs swinging under her chair. Little Penny is shy, and prefers to write things in her diary. But with a little encouragement she began to tell me about a frightfully serious episode from Tuesday evening...

*****

I was in my cot all tucked in with my teddy Mr Hugs and Daddy was reading my bedtime story. It was my faverit, Goldilocks an’ the Free Bears. I like that story best cos it has a little girl who is naughty and gets spanked and I like to imagine I am her. I would have Frosties instead of yukky porridge though. Frosties are nice and sugary and I like the tiger on the box. If I wasn’t gonna be a pony I would be a tiger.

Daddy finished the story and I smiled and clapped. Daddy kissed me and told me I was a good girl and that I had to sleep tight. He turned the light off and I closed my eyes to go to sleep.

I tryed and tryed but I couldn’t fall asleep. Mr Hugs couldn’t either. We lay there for AGES, all sad at being still awake. I rolled onto one side, then the other, then onto my back, but nuffin worked.

Ages later, maybe a milyon hours, I felt frighted but I didn’t know why. I started to listen carefully for monsters and I defnitely heard one creaking around in the wardrobe and I felt extra super afraid. Monsters like to eat little girls and I’m a little girl and I don’t wanna be eated.

I wanted to call out to Daddy but I was scared that the monster might eat me before Daddy came. I hid all safe under the covers and sucked my dummy and thinked. After a while I thinked that if Daddy couldn’t come to me, I would have to go to Daddy. But I didn’t want to get out of my cot cos my room was all dark. I don’t like it when it’s dark cos that’s what monsters like best and everyfin looks frightnin, even my dolls on the windowsill.

“Be brave for Mr Hugs,” I thinked to myself. I pushed the covers off and stood up and climbed out of the cot. I tried to be as quiet as a mouse so any monsters wouldn’t hear me. I held Mr Hugs tight and tiptoed to Daddy’s room. The hallway has a squeaky floorboard that I always step on and I stepped on it and it squeaked – I held my breath and looked round but no monsters came (phew!)

I crept into Daddy’s room. Daddy has a nice big bed and I climbed in beside him and pulled the covers right up to my ear. Daddy kept snoring the whole time and I nuzzled into him and closed my eyes, happy that I was all safe and sound. I felt like Goldilocks snuggling up to big strong Daddy Bear. I fell asleep in about firty five seconds.

Silly monsters, I showed them!

*****

What a brave little girl! Definitely deserving of a bag of jelly worms to take home.

The photo above is from ABhunnies, a wonderful AB site. If you want to see pretty adult girls in baby outfits, go there. Join. Enjoy! (And if you don’t, don’t).

Penny and her Aunty

Little Penny is a very lucky (and a very contented) young lady. She has a safe, loving home, a Daddy who gives her hugs and spankings whenever she needs them, and all the cuddly toys a little girl could ever want.

And of course she also has a beautiful Aunty who loves her very, very much. Penny loves her just as much in return, and her little face always brightens when she hears that ‘Aunty And-ea’ is coming to visit.

So just imagine her delight when she was invited to stay at Aunty’s house for the weekend! The little poppet simply smiled to bursting. (She was, alas, told off by Daddy for jumping up and down on the sofa, but I think her enthusiasm was understandable).

Aunty Andrea has an account of her little niece’s stay available to read on her wonderful blog, so do pop over and see how it went!

Little Penny writes

I think, after my last post about scary institutions and strict reformatories, that I could use a bit of cute and fluffy ‘little Penny’ time.

The young Miss Hasler is a creative little soul (when she’s not being a brat) – she likes writing stories, and drawing pictures, and she loves her colouring books – although sometimes her creative efforts do have a touch of naughtiness about them.

That is certainly true of the thing that I want to share with you today: Penny’s diary. (Don’t worry, I asked her permission to show such a personal item to my “growed up friends”). This important document – written on Penny’s very best My Little Pony notepaper, no less – provides a unique insight into things from her point of view. Shall we take a peek at a few pages and see what she’s been up to?

Aww! What a perfect little angel – writing about how much she loves her Daddy! Could anything be sweeter?

But alas, if we leaf forward a couple of pages, we see an unfortunate change in tone:

Oh dear. It sounds very much like Miss Hasler was set on being a quarrelsome little madam that day. And things only get worse in the following entry...

Poor, silly Penny! I guess the above goes to prove that, despite her pretentions, she isn’t too big for a spanking just yet. And, given how fond she is of misbehaving, I rather suspect that there are a lot of pages like this in her diary. But I’m equally sure that, though she might write mean things about him when she’s in a bad mood, Penny loves her Daddy with all her heart. And that she knows he only spanks her for her own good.

And on that note, I should return this lovely diary to its rightful owner. I’d like to thank Penny for allowing me to share her private thoughts with you all. Cuddles and ice cream for that little girl when I see her next! If any readers have comments they would like me to pass on to her, do please let me know.

Roll over Botticelli

Ask and ye shall receive: further to my list of ‘ten better ways to express my disappointment than by pouting’, one of the more mature and considered items on the list – ‘Draw a nice picture of a cat to cheer myself up, then show it to a grown-up’ – piqued the interest of reader (and grown-up) Nick, or more exactly that of his cat Superman.

Now, I don’t possess a great deal of artistic aptitude, but I should probably point out that I drew the pic in a deliberately crude way as I was in the mindset of ‘Little Penny’ at the time. (“The cat’s a bit wobbly-lookin’ but he’s smiling ‘cos he’s happy. And I wrote ‘cat’ at the bottom, and I spelt it right too! C - A - T!”) I’m sure an art critic would praise it as ‘outsider art’ or suchlike, but it’s really just a two-minute doodle on Paint. True.

Anyway. Here you are, Superman – one picture of a cat! (It’s okay if you don’t think it’s very good).

And you know what? Drawing it did cheer me up!

Penny throws a tantrum

Penny was an angel when she was good, her Daddy always said. The loveliest little girl there ever was. But of course little Penny wasn’t always good. In fact she was really quite naughty, really quite often.

A bright spring Thursday in March was one of those days. Penny had been bratty all day and her long-suffering Daddy was growing ever more exasperated with her. The final straw was a tantrum she threw when she was told that no, she couldn’t have a snack before dinner. The little madam stamped her feet, called her Daddy a meanie who never let her do anything she wanted, said that if she couldn’t have jelly worms then she didn’t want ANY dinner at ALL, then stomped over to the fireplace and sat pouting, a sour expression darkening her little face. Here’s what happened next, in naughty little Penny’s own words...

*****

“You can pout all you like, young lady!” Daddy said crossly. “You’re not having jelly worms and spoiling your appetite, and that’s final!”

I frowned at Daddy because I was cross at him.

“You may think you’re all grown up, Penny Hasler, but believe me, my girl, you still have a lot of growing up to do. In fact if your behaviour today proves anything, it’s that you’re a VERY naughty little girl, and that you’re BADLY in need of a smacked bottom!”

“But Daddy!” I cried, “I am all growed up! I dressed myself this morning and poured my own cereal, and I can read nearly all the words on the cereal box!” But Daddy was too cross to listen. I wish Daddy would listen! My teddy bear Mr Hugs always listens. I even did my crossest frown at Daddy but it didn’t work. Daddy lifted me up by the arm and pulled me over to the big chair he likes to spank me on. I tried to get away but Daddy is very strong and he held my arm tight. He sat down and put me over his knee.

“Oh, please, Daddy!” I wailed. “I don’t wanna spanking!”

Daddy laughed. “Naughty little girls never do! But you need one, Penny, and by heaven you’re going to get one!”

And then Daddy pulled my dress up and my panties down, even though I didn’t want him to, because they were my favourite pink ones with Cookie Monster on, and he started to smack my botty. “Ow! Ow!” I cried, kicking my legs. “Please, Daddy! I’m sorry!”

But Daddy didn’t listen (AGAIN) and just kept spanking me. Daddy’s hand is big and hard and each spank hurt a lot. I started to cry when Daddy told me that I was grounded for a whole week. Being grounded makes me sad because I like to go out and play. “I don’t wanna be grounded!” I sobbed.

“I know you don’t, Penny,” said Daddy. “So I hope it will encourage you to think twice before acting up in future. And you’d better believe that if you persist in behaving like a brat you’ll be grounded for another week, too!”

I cried and cried the whole time Daddy spanked me. When he had finished spanking me and let me up I was very, very sorry for being so naughty. I tried to hide my face because I didn’t want Daddy to see me cry, but he lifted my chin up and brushed my hair away and wiped a tear from my cheek and said I was a very brave little girl. I thanked Daddy for my spanking and said I was sorry for being bad and he gave me a nice big hug.

Daddy pulled my panties up and told me to go stand in the corner. I like to do what Daddy tells me but I don’t like standing in the corner. It’s boring and silly. But I didn’t tell Daddy that because I know it makes him cross when I pout. I went to the corner and stood there for AGES, feeling very sad and silly, until Daddy said I could come back and sit on his lap. I love sitting on Daddy’s lap, so I clapped and smiled and skipped over to him.

And Daddy bounced me on his knee, and told me I was his best girl, and that all my naughtiness was forgiven, and that I could have ice cream later if I ate my dinner all up. And I smiled because I was happy. I love my Daddy so much!

I had a bad dream, Daddy

I'm a bit of a sleepyhead today as I woke up from a scary dream in the middle of the night and lay awake for perhaps an hour afterwards.

In the dream I was walking around a house – I think we were looking it over with a view to moving in – and I had my pet dog with me. Dog and I were in a room on the top floor, with one room downstairs left to go, and I suddenly had a feeling of trepidation come over me, as if we shouldn't go down the stairs to the room. Still, I went to the stairs. And then I suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of impending danger, as if I knew for a fact that a horrid, malevolent presence was rushing up the stairs towards us, a threatening spirit (definitely not Casper), and I turned and ran. And woke up.

Though my mind was calm, my heart was racing and adrenaline was rushing (as of course the body doesn't know that the danger in a dream is imaginary) so I knew that falling back asleep wasn't likely to happen all that soon. I pondered going to my computer and posting about it then and there, but – and you're not allowed to laugh at this – I was too frightened to venture out from the safety of my bed into the darkness. I will confess that even without bad dreams I'm still a little afraid of the dark sometimes, even though I know it's silly. So I lay with my eyes closed and tried to think about nice things until I fell back asleep.

Just thought I'd share that. Feel free to patronise and reassure your favourite naughty little Penny in the comments xx

I'm not a brat! Not, not, not!

I love it when people are kind (or naughty) enough to comment on my scribblings. It makes me happy to think that people are interacting with my blog and it gives me a nice warm glow inside :o)

That said, one visitor in particular – namely that big, silly, mean old imreadonly2 – keeps interacting in a way that gives me quite a different sort of warm glow. He's always telling me off and spanking me and making me show him my knickers and subjecting me to all sorts of humiliating punishments.

It doesn't matter how many times I tell him I'm much too big for all those things and I'm not a brat and I don't want a spanking – he just calls me an impudent little madam and spanks me for throwing a tantrum! It's not fair!

I'm a grown woman, this is my blog, and I'm not going to stand for it. So, to imreadonly2 and everyone else who thinks I'm a brat in need of regular spankings...

Nyah nyah nyah! Raaasp! Silly old stinky-pants!

Hmf! That'll show 'em!

Oh, but Daddy..!

Yesterday my better half was very much in the mood for some Daddy and Little Girl action, which was perfectly fine with me! I love ageplay. There’s just something so hot and exciting yet sweet and comforting about it, very much related to the sensation of erotic escapism I wrote about here, I think. I’ll write a more contemplative post on the subject at some future point, but right now I’ll just get down to the details…

I own a variety of fancy dress outfits in the ‘innocent yet sexy girl’ style, and for yesterday’s play I was put into a dress not unlike this one:

My long socks had bows on them, my red shoes had bows on them, my dress had a big bow on the back, I had frilly white French knickers and a big white petticoat underneath my short skirt, and I put pigtails in my hair and tied ribbons in them, so I was all bows and ribbons and frills.

And when I had finished dressing, and transforming into 'Penny', Daddy stood me in front of him and began giving me a good telling-off. I’ll hand over to Penny at this point so she can tell you everything that happened...

*****

Daddy was very cross. He said I had been a very bad girl all week, neglecting my chores, answering back, showing off and flirting, and, most wickedly of all, touching myself. He told me that I needed a spanking. I said I didn’t want a spanking, and stamped my foot. That made him even more cross. He took me by the arm, marched me to the bed and pulled me down across his knee.

He flipped my skirt up and ran his hand over my bottom, and up and down my legs. He did that for quite a long time, and he told me what a naughty little girl I was. I felt very silly over his knee. “Please, Daddy, I’m sorry,” I said, because I didn’t want a spanking at all. “It’s too late for sorry, young lady!” Daddy replied. “You need a good hiding, and your backtalk just goes to prove it.”

He started to spank me, his big hand stinging my bottom very hard. I tried to wriggle free, but Daddy held me firmly down. “Ow! Ow! Oh, please, Daddy! That hurts!” I begged. “Be quiet, Penny!” he scolded. “You really are the naughtiest little girl there ever was – you can’t even take your punishment like a good girl!”

Daddy spanked me for a long time. He warned me halfway through that he would be taking my knickers down to check my pussy for wetness. I begged him not to, because I knew I would get into trouble for being wet, but he just told me off again for speaking out of turn. Daddy always tells me that little girls should be seen and not heard.

When Daddy did pull my knickers down he put his hand between my legs and stroked me. “Is this where you touch yourself, Penny?” he asked.

“Ohh! Oh! Y-yes, Daddy!”

“Naughty, filthy girl! You know very well that you’re not allowed to touch yourself there. Only Daddy can play with your little pussy, can’t he?”

“Yes, Daddy!”

Daddy slipped one of his fingers inside me and thrust it in and out. It felt so nice, but I knew I was being very naughty by enjoying it. And I know Daddy is right to punish me for touching myself, but I just can’t help doing it.

Daddy inspected my pussy for a long time. He was very cross that it was so wet. When he had finished, he told me to stand up. I did, and he pushed me down to my knees. He stood in front of me, undid his trousers, pulled his underpants down and held his big, hard cock in front of my face. “Is this what you’ve been thinking about all week, Penny? Daddy’s cock? Have you been thinking about kissing it, and sucking it, and stroking it, when you should have been concentrating on your chores?”

“Yes, Daddy,” I nodded, ashamed.

“Naughty girl! You are such a little slut! And just look at how hard you’ve made it with your teasing! Well, my girl, now you can do what you’re best at!”

And then he pushed his cock into my mouth. I wanted to tell him that it was far too big, but he held the back of my head so I couldn’t escape! I could only suck and lick and gulp and look up at him helplessly.

“There’s a good little girl,” Daddy said, stroking my hair. “Ohh... you are so good at that... ohhh... I’ve a good mind to come in your mouth right now. You’d deserve that, wouldn’t you?”

“Mmnh, mnnh!”

But Daddy didn’t come in my mouth. He let me suck him for a few more minutes then pulled his cock away. “That’s enough for you, greedy girl,” he said, ignoring my sad pouting. “Now come along, it’s time for your second spanking.”

Aww, not another spanking! I didn't want to be spanked again, but I knew better than to answer back to Daddy.

Daddy sat on the bed again, but right on the edge this time, and he told me to straddle one of his legs. I climbed onto his leg and he flipped my skirt up and I waited for the first spank. But it didn’t come. Instead, Daddy reached down and took one of my shoes off my foot. He slapped it against his hand and I knew what was coming. “You have been so bad, Penny, that you deserve a slippering.”

“Oh, but Daddy!” I begged, trying to wriggle free. “I’ll be good! I promise!”

“Now, Penny. You know that you thoroughly deserve this, and you know it’s for your own good!”

Daddy whacked me very hard, and my bottom hurt so much I started to cry. But he just kept whacking me, and scolding me, and I felt very naughty and very sorry for myself. But deep down I knew that Daddy was right, that I was a wicked little slut, and that I deserved every last swat. I certainly felt very ashamed as I ground myself against Daddy’s leg, but I couldn’t help doing it. When the slippering was over Daddy lifted me up and sat me on his knee. “There, there. It’s all over now,” he said, holding me close and stroking my hair. “There’s a good girl. Now, are you sorry for being so naughty?”

“Yes, D-Daddy,” I tearfully nodded.

“Good girl. And you won’t be naughty again today, will you? Because if you are Daddy will have to give you another spanking.”

“No, Daddy, I promise.”

“Good girl. Now, Daddy wants to play with his sexy little girl. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes, Daddy! Oh, yes please, Daddy!” I smiled.

And he lay me on the bed and played with me very hard. I came seven times in all.