My first spanking party

Sometimes I love where I live. I find two skirts in a renowned local charity shop. £2.99 each. I say a silent "hooray" for the patronizing woman in the vintage shop who wouldn't drop the price of a navy wool pencil skirt from £45 to £40 (honestly). To think I'd nearly spent £40 when I got two skirts for £5.98.

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This and that

PMT nearly does for me, and so does thrush, but I'm still alive and thinking about next week. 

Well, sort of revised my expectations downward...

The emotional turbulence of the last few days, in which I feel as though I have regressed, is levelling out. I am certain one reason for this is the arrival of my period. Today I'm achey and exhausted but emotionally I feel better, less full of anguish about losing Virgil, more objective in the way I think about him and me.


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Daydreaming in class

Some facts about spanking, texting makes me horny, and I have to get studying.

Work avoidance is my greatest inspiration, sex my biggest distraction. A few messages from my new texting friend in which he says he is looking forward to getting to know "far more of me, far more deeply" make an afternoon lecture pass in a pleasant haze of groin ache. I catch only four words in every five and absorb almost nothing.

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Texts and spanking

Looking for work depresses me, but I have fun with texting and enquire about a new source of income.

Summoning my energy, I write emails to two organisations I think might employ me, or, more likely, give me some volunteering work. I earmark two more to visit.

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Needing or deserving?

Some submissives are able to say that they deserve a beating. I envy them. It probably helps them get what they want. All I know is that, whatever my behaviour has been like (frequently lacking), I am often in need of a beating. Whether I deserve it or not I cannot judge. Although being spanked, flogged, caned and so on is one of my favourite things ever I'd much rather pretend not to enjoy it (at first).

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Does Liking Helmut Newton Equal A Fetish?

Last time I saw Obi was at a kinky party a couple of weeks ago. It was towards the end of the night. The room was half full of people chatting. On a double bed at the side, some people were playing. Here and there, a few spankings were being administered. Obi is a photographer and hangs out with a lot of fetish folk, who he photographs. By all accounts a womaniser, Obi claims not to have any fetishes. I ask him in that case what is he doing hanging out with all these freaks?

He grins and says well, maybe he does have a bit of a fetish. He can't say what it is exactly, but he likes Helmut Newton.

Actually, so do I, but does liking Helmut Newton equal a fetish?

I think not, unless it is the thought of Helmut Newton specifically that makes your heart beat faster.

I think that if you have a fetish you know exactly what it is. I have one, and it's this.

And I think of my fetish for spanking as more than a liking or a taste because I can look at almost any image of spanking and, like one of Pavlov's dogs, I will get wet.

Except for this one:

While I was once prepared to go to considerable lengths for a spanking, now I haven't had one for far too long.

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Headstrong in the Family Bed

The other night for the first time I said to Virgil: "I can't sleep so I'm going to have a wank and that should do the trick." He was sweet and cuddled me and played with my breasts while I did it. He asked me what I was thinking about. I suspect it was to see whether the answer might turn him on too. But I remained close-lipped and only told him afterward that I had been fantasizing about being upended and spanked first on my backside and then on my pussy. By then I was drifting off to sleep as intended.

Last night I wanted to make love but my hopes were confounded. We cuddled instead. Ironically, the sex party Virgil and I are organising is taking over. He is planning his costume and programming playlists. We haven't had sex all week. He knows that I am annoyed about this, and I think he knows that I know that he knows.

"Do we need to talk?" he asked me this morning. 

"No," I said. 

"I think we do," he said. 

"Well, I think we don't, but if you want to then we can."

I don't want to talk about it, but I wish I was going on a hot date tonight while he's out. It's true. One shouldn't rely on just one other person to satisfy one's sexual appetite.

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