Wishing you all a wonderful and safe Christmas.

As you see, I am not posting here at the moment but want to keep the blog open should I get some inspiration to write anything of interest.

I am well, but busy with studies and various other activities.

It is actually 12:30am Christmas morning here and it appears Santa has already visited so obviously I am one of the ‘nice’ girls…but you knew that right?

Enjoy the festive season, whatever you are doing or however you celebrate it and take special care of yourselves and each other.

Hugs and mistletoe kisses,

Mina

PS. Anyone have a love of boots, check these festive soles out.

I run my tongue up his bare torso, tasting the sweat, teasing his nipples.  My hands follow,  his heart  races beneath my touch.  He wastes no time spinning me around and tears open my blouse roughly cupping my naked breasts.  Pushing me forward he yanks up my skirt and slaps my exposed bottom.  Soaked panties pushed aside as he drives into me giving me sweet relief…

“Stop ogling those workmen and get back to work girl!” the office manager growls, breaking my reverie. I scurry back to my cubicle with a secret smile on my lips.

~~~~~~<//>~~~~~~

Submission for FFF#3.  Why not join in?

Men of the world unite against our underwear, in the name of safety.   How kind that they would look out for us in such a manner.

The only place to cross the river was upstream, near the waterfall.  Beware the ferryman, they joked.

To my surprise a woman was there, with sweet turquoise eyes and golden hair cascading around her soft naked hips.

“You may not pass here,” she stated.

“I must,” I replied.

“There is a price.”

“I will pay.”

“Kiss me.”

I did as she bid, her passion intoxicating.  With lips and tongue she aroused me unbearably and as I sank into her I realised too late her price.  There would be no crossing now or ever.

~~~~<//>~~~~

My submission for the Flash Fiction Friday hosted by Tiggr and Spanky.  Thanks to both of you for putting this together.

Spring really has made it here to the southern hemisphere after all.  Today it was almost warm enough to walk in a short sleeved T-shirt.  I’m recovering from a cold so didn’t want to push my luck only to get ill again.

These are photos taken from a garden I walked through at the weekend.   Actually daffodils have been out for a few weeks prior to Spring but then the birds are nesting already as well so it seems mother nature knows what she’s doing.

The Trials of Spring

It was the first day of spring and she’d had enough of being indoors.  The weather had finally turned and she decided upon a stroll about her garden.  Everything was in bloom and it made her heart sing to smell the delicate fragrance of honeysuckle and see the bees flitting from flower to flower.

The beauty of the surrounds made it all the more distressing when she happened upon her gardener on his knees, weeding the flower beds, completely nude.

“What do you think you’re doing?”  she asked, her voice rising more than she  meant to.

The wretched man didn’t bat an eyelid, just stood up, turned to face her and grinned.

“Oh, just finishing the weeding.  Hoped to have it all done before you ventured outdoors.  But, well, here you are.”

“Yes, here I am.  You have nothing on you know,” she blurted out.

“I’m aware of that.  Is that a problem?”

“Yes, actually, it is.”

“Why? It was clearly stated in my contract.”

“Your what?” she asked incredulously.

“My contract, it ‘s a document that sets out the…”

“I know what a contract is,” she snapped, pushing her spectacles back to the bridge of her nose.

“Well mine states I will garden nude.  It’s not my problem if you didn’t read it properly,” he said with a decisive nod.

It was about this time that she noticed a decidedly mischievous twinkle in the man’s eye and took a different tack.

“A contract you say.  Hmmm, I have standing terms and conditions for any contractors that work on my estate, would you like to hear them?”

“I suppose they only apply to nude gardeners.”

“But of course,” she smirked.

“Why don’t I tell you what your terms and conditions are?”

She thought about that for a moment and nodded for him to continue, wondering just where it might go.

“I would think they include some sort of punishment,” says the man and then looks around. “You might make him bend over that bird bath there and give him twenty good strokes with that pretty leather belt you’re wearing.”

She looked down at the belt and then back at him as a slow smile spread across her face.  “Well done, I see you did read them.  Best get comfy then.”

She had him lie across the bird bath, undid her belt and drew it through the loops.  Placing a hand on his back to steady him she raised her right arm and let fly with the belt.  As it cracked across both cheeks she said, “next time, I hope you remember to bring your clothes.”

“Next time, I hope you remember to bring your paddle,” was his reply which caused him to get quite a few more than twenty good strokes.

So it came to pass that the Lady and the Gardener found an enjoyable way to celebrate the first day of spring.

A nice one for the ladies to appreciate.  Looks like he is just ready for an invigorating skinny dip.  Too cold in the southern hemisphere for such antics unless you are mad.   I am a little worried though as he doesn’t seem to have a penis.  What? I’m just saying is all.

Have managed to pick up some horrid cold that is clinging on like a stalker.  Blocked nose and tissues discarded like blossoms all over the floor and yet I am back to work tomorrow to ensure the germs are shared fairly.    Actually I feel quite good just sound like crap!

Colds and study are my excuses for not blogging but the truth is a little simpler.  I have no idea what to write.  I need, not want, but need to get back to writing fiction.  I haven’t done any in about a year, more perhaps and have many unfinished stories hiding in folders forgotten on my hard drive.   It is time to get back to it.

Happily Spanky has organised a little Flash Fiction Friday event which might get me inspired.  That remains to be seen, however challenge #2 is up at Tiggr’s place if you would like to have a crack yourself.  The first one was exactly 69 words but I think Tiggr has extended that to be between 69 and 96 words so do read the guidelines before submitting.

Tomorrow is spring, yes it’s official.  1st of September is spring in Australia and I don’t care if it will feel the same tomorrow as today, in fact colder I think according to the Bureau of Meteorology, it will be spring nonetheless.

That’s it for now,  needed to put up a post so I didn’t have to look at my own backside every time I came on.

Hugs

Mina

Off to sleep now and will see you all when I return to cyber world, but before I go, below is the picture of what our naughty brat receives once she has given the headmaster the fingers.

Yes, 6 out of 13 people guessed right, that the cane would be employed for this infraction.  Just look at their faces, these two are having far too much fun, the lucky devils!  Recidavist suggested she get strapped across the hands since she was giving a rude hand gesture.  He is quite right that would be veryappropriate and then the caning after…

Hugs and see you soon.

Mina

How good is this picture, it always gives me a good chuckle, but you will have to wait till tomorrow to see what happens to this young lady.

I will be updating tomorrow night on where I am at and what is going on.   Some things in my life have gone, never to return, and other things will be starting anew.

Also there will be some down time as I get myself organised at my new place and then I can get back to checking out the regular blogs I visit.  Sorry for not getting around to them tonight but still packing and I have to get up in six hours.  I look forward to reading what is happening in everyone else’s lives.

So in the meantime what do you think should happen to a brat who gives Headmaster the fingers?

Shortly I shall bring you a tale of pain and woe…well at least it was for F, but first a quick Mina update.

It looks like I could possibly be looking for my own place within four weeks.  Yes, things are starting to move, finally, and the new adventure awaits.    There is a lot to do between now and then and after that time there will be a move and re-organisation.  I love that part setting up your home anew and this time I get to do it all my way,  which means I will probably end up with the sofa perched on the bed or something odd like that, but I am sure I will get by.

So what does 100 times mean to you?

100 times I have posted an entry on this blog.  100 times (at least) I have responded to all the lovely folk who comment here.  But the most memorable 100 times was smacking F with my hardwood hairbrush for that very amount.

Only once have F and I dropped all hilarity and turned to the business of discipline.  This was something F requested, since we are not in each others lives to be able to truly monitor and dole out discipline should we want to take that path.

F confessed a little thing he wanted help with…of course since he so enjoys being spanked this was likely a ruse to get the hardest spanking he has had from me, to date.  A lengthy discussion was undertaken in which it was decided that 100 hard spanks would be delivered to F’s posterior without a warm up and with my hairbrush.  Further details were agreed and we were ready to meet.

On the day, we met and as usual enjoyed some chit chat before getting down to business.  Once F was in place over my knee and after a bit more discussion the first stinging swats were delivered.  The agreement was straight into hard smacks from the hairbrush.  I told F to keep count and some were delivered slow, some fast, but all hard.

This started over underwear since it was to be very hard but I soon wanted to keep a better eye on the target and make sure everything was progressing as it should.  At around 50, F had to re-arrange himself, though I think he was playing for a little breathing time.  I do try to keep an eye out for such and regulate the spanking to account for these things.  As soon as F was back in place the remaining 50 were delivered.

It is not easy to deliver that many smacks all at the same force so no doubt many, perhaps half, were not at full force but, trust me, many were.  I don’t know how he took it, he forever has my admiration for that alone.  I could not have taken that and probably would never want to in all honesty.  F asked me to do this, as a sort of atonement if you will, and I was more than happy to help out but as I said we had a lengthy discussion before hand.  I wanted to make sure we were both on the same page, so to speak,

It was an incredible experience and as the top a little scary, you see I had never dished out such a harsh spanking before.  Now F and I play quite hard anyway, due to our limited time we make the most of it.  But this, this was something quite beyond.  I had a time during where I felt quite mean and unsure but I forged ahead and am glad I did.  F appreciated it all more than I think I even realised, at least certainly at the time.

We have decided to play to that level again and this time it won’t be for discipline or anything else but simply because it is something we want to do.  I wouldn’t want to do it every session as it would lose the impact but F definitely craves a good hard smacking from time to time, that is harder than usual.  Luckily he has found in me someone who is only too happy to help him out.

F took his spanking with grace and not a few ‘ow’s’ and a good rub of arnica cream had him a happily spanked chappy.  Of course since we switch he managed a few swats on me, but this first part of our meeting was the highlight.

Happy spanking to all.

F and I have fun when we spank, however, we do play quite hard.  F loves to be spanked hard and in all honesty I am not really satisfied unless I get a few ‘ows’ from him.   But amidst all this we still manage to have a great deal of fun liberally sprinkled with laughter.

Only once have we dropped all hilarity and turned to the serious business of discipline, but that is another story.

One of my favourite moments of laughter was when I broke our ‘cane’ across F’s backside.  A word of warning; unless it is made to be a cane then it isn’t a cane.

As is usual for us, F and I were discussing spanking implements prior to a spanking meeting.  What would we bring, what do we have and if there is anything new on the agenda then a quick pic via email to umm, whet the appetite.

This particular time F mentioned a cane.  I was suitably impressed since I very much wanted to try one (as a spanker not a spankee you understand) and since I knew F wasn’t so interested was curious as to how he had come by it.  The photo sent did not reveal the cane’s true identity so I didn’t get to view it first hand until the following day.

The cane turned out to be a length of wooden dowling who’s usual occupation was to being the proud bearer of a flag.  As spankos you will be aware that just about anything that looks like it could remotely be used for spanking will at some time be employed for same.  Thus a short while after meeting, F is bent over a tall chair taking a few whacks from the aforementioned wooden object.

I allowed him to keep his jeans on for now since I had never wielded such a thing and I didn’t know it’s or my capability.  Needless to say it was very enjoyable and I was happily whacking away whilst getting the beginnings of a reaction from F.  Love those ‘ooh’s’ and ‘ahhh’s’.

Being a slightly sadistic woman once I have the upper hand I decided to increase the intensity and was getting well into a great rhythmic swing when ‘CRACK’ and the ‘cane’ broke clean in two across F’s jean clad bum and flew off hitting a wall a few feet behind us.

My eyes were like saucers and I was caught between being mortified for having broke his property and laughing because it was just too funny.  F stood up and announced,”That’s my flagpole.  You just broke my flagpole.”

“Sorry,” I blurted out before we both broke into laughter.

Later F did use the remainder of the ‘cane’ on me and though I am sure it is nothing like the real thing it had a very definite sting all of it’s own.

The moral of this story is not all things that glisten are gold, or not all wooden items around the house should be used for spanking.