Today's reason to be cheerful

Big storm here, which meant the powerlines went down for half the day. No heat, no phone and no computer - so little progress on today's serious (and rather dull) magazine article.

Did someone mention a paddling?

But some progress has been made, which is good, and I've strictly rationed the naughty surfing. The good news is that my rationed surfing has turned up what is likely to be my new best friend. Or at least my new favourite photo blog - Wicked Knickers.

What a great name, but not too accurate as the knickers are mostly off - as they are as in this marvellous pic I've 'borrowed' to show you. A really, really good collection.

A Christmas disappointment

What's really on her mind...?

Bum! Guess who gets left off Santa's Christmas list again this year? I might be getting gifts (see left for paste-on smile), but I won't get what I want.

...something like this, perhaps.

All the spanko stuff in this house happens during the day when the kids are out. Finding 'windows of opportunity' can be tricky. But it was looking quite promising. Significant Other's last shift before the holidays is today and the schools are still in business until next Thursday - four more play days before Xmas.

So, there's been a bit of verbal banter about naughtiness, niceness and what has to happen to the ever-naughty. Then oldest child arrived home last night to say that her course tutor had decided that yesterday should be their de facto last day! I know that Christmas is about family, but really...

The joy of... bottom marks

Guilty pleasures, I love them. Years ago there was an ad campaign (for cream? or cakes?) that featured the line: "naughty, but nice". I think I mistook it for a life's mission statement, but doesn't it miss the point a wee bit? Isn't the 'nice' bit dependant on the 'naughty' bit? Without one you don't get the other.

What's the connection between cream cakes and the faint lines on my backside this morning? Both are naughty, but for me defintely nice. I love spanking marks and can't stop looking at them, touching them and thinking of them when I have them.

In the past when I had an office job it was a thrill to sneak into the loo at work, pull down my knicks and take a lingering look at my marks. Seeing a bit of bruising or the odd line was a real thrill - a dark secret I could hug to myself through the day.

The set I have at the moment are almost gone, but they have been with me for almost a week. They're like an echo of an incredible intense sensual experience and I'll sorry when they've gone.

Naughty

And I also love the fact that they're evidence of my kinkiness. If anyone saw them they'd know me for what I am. They are, most certainly, a guilty pleasure.

Nice
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