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Spanking confessions

If you read further, you are acknowledging that the content in this blog is adult in nature and is expressly discussing kinks and sexual exploration. Enter at your own risk, if you are shocked by the act of spanking don’t read any futher. Run away, scram, remain in the dark and just wonder about the pleasures you could be missing out on… or just leave. I won’t hold it against you. Each to their own.

If you do want to jump in and read, be nice peeps, leave a like or a comment or both! I won’t mind and at least I will know you have taken a peek at my bottom adventures!

Most if not all of the photographs/images are courtesy of the internet unless otherwise stated.

When you are out of the usual options, you must do it for yourself!

I needed a good hard spanking so I gave myself one… then another… then another

Then everybody else joined in…

Be yourself; Everyone else is already taken.

— Oscar Wilde.

This blog is about my journey of self discovery, post divorce, and my hedonistic tumble into self-spanking and self-discipline and spanking and being disciplined! I hope you enjoy the journey with me.

This is a journey about discovery of self after a bitter divorce, exploring a long standing kink that had lain dormant for far too long and the experiences it brought about purely by accident rather than design. It is my personal journey, I have changed the names of others to protect their identity but the events are mainly as they happened. Please read with an open mind and heart, we are all original works of art just waiting for someone to appreciate the picture we portray. My picture is finally beginning to see the light of day. All events written here had my full co-operation and consent and were carried out in a safe and caring way. Detailed discussions between both parties took place well in advance of any actual spanking. Nothing was agreed until both parties were happy that what would happen was entirely within the boundaries we had set. My thoughts and feelings were written shortly after each event and in some cases I was highly charged and usually in a lot of throbbing pain but I had loved every single minute of it once the throbbing calmed down some. I decided it was way past time to put all of those experiences, thoughts and feelings in one place to share with you.

Please remember to scroll down to the very first blog, it’s written in order, 1. The First Time. 2. Well THAT hurt! 3. What a Walloping! 4. He Came, He Spanked, then he invited his wife around for the Grand Finale! 5. So much for never again! I need a spanking! etc etc etc.

I hope you are enjoying my journey so far. I know I am…

All images courtesy of the internet.

Spanking Aaron.

Spanking Aaron.

So after that first internet spanking with Aaron there were 3 more sessions or appointments as he liked to call them. He usually came online once a week and the discipline session would begin with him instructing me to tell him what I had been up to. Then he would follow the same pattern of discipline he had that first time. The spankings were marginally longer now but not by much. I confess I was getting bored with it. The other thing about Aaron was he is big into extra-punishments, so I found myself having to write lines a lot! 500 at a bloody time! Seriously, it takes forever to do that shit! It’s why computers were invented! Copy and paste for goodness sake! The repetitiveness is a bore and I kept getting distracted from the task so it took longer! Another of Aaron’s favourite extra-punishments was orgasm bans. Now, call me over sexed if you want but I do not like being told I can’t have a play after a hard spanking and no play for a WEEK? Really?

Type it! Copy and paste it!

Over the course of the past month we have gotten to chatting quite frequently in between spanking appointments. He had begun to open up to me, I’m not too comfortable with that to be honest, I would rather he just kept things surface, spanking, kink chat that kind of thing. I don’t want someone confessing all their sins to me. Do I sound like a vicar to anyone? At all? Ever? Nope I spank Vicars. (Well, one to date, but I would be happy to spank another, I did enjoy hearing him squeal!)

Anyway the upshot is, he wants to branch out. He wants to be the spankee he doesn’t want to keep spanking me, he wants to be spanked by me because he trusts me. That’s what he has always wanted.

Erm… Not part of the agreement? I can’t honestly say I have ever really had an urge to spank anyone, although now that I think about it, his voice is annoying as all get out, and he has banned me twice from orgasm playtime, so that’s two weeks worth of frustration right there. He’s also big on this chilli rub application and he has lied to me big time, I can feel a payback spanking coming on…

I thought about it for a good while before I agreed to spank him (virtually of course) but I figured he could spank himself harder than I could have ever spanked him anyway. For me it was a bit like when the Vicar got his spanking from the machine. I was in control but I wasn’t physically spanking him. I’ve got to stop talking about the Vicar, I keep getting flashbacks to his hairy bottom. Not good, not good at all.

I was sneeped with him, (pissed off for those who don’t understand Mancunian) because he was supposed to be my disciplinarian, he was supposed to be the person who could bring me into line when no one else could. I was supposed to be able to respect him. I could no more see Graham or Stuart acting the way Aaron was doing than I could see pigs fly. I felt duped. Bad move for Aaron, that really made me take my opportunity for a payback spanking a lot more seriously. I don’t like being conned by anyone. Aaron, in my opinion had conned me. He had come at it via he would provide me with what I was looking for and then later on turn the tables to get what he wanted. Had he said all this in the beginning I might have explored the possibilities with him, but as it was I was sneeped. That is a bad place to find yourself.

So the first thing I asked Aaron was, ‘Do you have a hairy bottom?’

I laughed my head off at his expression! He was shocked by the question. I thought it was a reasonable question under the circumstances. The Vicar conversation had come up a number of times during our chats. I was beginning to see why now.

When he realised I was serious, he blushed furiously and admitted that his bottom was indeed hairy, then he went all submissive on me and pleaded with me not to make him shave it. Of course I made him shave it. All that hair was a layer of protection as far as I was concerned and it had to go, he wanted a spanking? He was going to get one he would feel for a month! Besides, I could not look at another hairy bottom.

He pleaded and whined and in the end I got so cross with him I told him to drop his trousers and underpants and spank himself hard with his wooden hairbrush. No warm up, no breaks. Just keep spanking until I said he could stop.

He stood up, dropped his pants and underwear and bent over right in front of the screen. His bottom wasn’t that hairy I thought, but hey, I have been exposed to a severely hairy one so who am I to say?

He peered over his shoulder at the screen and I told him to get on with it. I don’t have all the stern chatter most spankers come at me with, I’m more in tune with the yelping, howling, squealing and sobbing side of things to be fair. So, perhaps I came across as a lot more strict than I had intended when I told him I wanted his backside purple and then he could damn well shave that hairy arse and cover it in a liberal coating of chilli rub or he would receive 24 strokes of the cane!

He took me at my word and he spanked his bottom as hard as he could with a very wide flat wooden hairbrush. It was a beautiful implement and I imagined Stuart delivering it across my bottom a few times as I watched Aaron jump about and squeal like a little stuck pig each time it connected with his cheeks. I instructed him to spank his thighs hard, I made him bend over the chair so he caught the sit spots flush with that wood. I wanted his backside and thighs as hot as he could get them. Oh dear, I was actually quite furious with him. He had played me.

The bad part about internet spanking is this, it feels like you are watching a really slow video and you want to fast forward to see the end results. This wasn’t going fast enough for me, short attention span and all that, so as soon as he had been spanking himself for 20 minutes, I gave him 15 minutes to shave his bottom and told him to come back online with his pants around his ankles and his bare bottom close to the screen for an inspection. I also said if he was late appearing or he hadn’t done the shave properly, he would receive those cane strokes plus 6 extra for wasting my time.

15 minutes later I was sat by my laptop waiting when a very bright red bottom appeared front and centre of my screen! I nearly choked on my coffee. Sheesh, I thought he might warn me first that he was there!

I saw shaving cuts covered in bits of toilet paper, I saw very mottled red bruising all over his bottom and thighs and if I wasn’t mistaken, there were one or two small blisters appearing too. Good. He deserved it.

I spent the next 30 minutes haranguing him for his deception while he spanked himself with a large slipper and apologised to me constantly. I told him his apology was pathetic, he was pathetic and he should be ashamed of himself. He was no better than the Vicar.

I made him stand in the corner of his room for 10 minutes reciting the last lot of 500 lines he had given me, ‘I am very naughty and I need a good hard spanking.’

Finally I told him to come and stand before me with his pants around his ankles. He was crying. I asked him what he was crying for and he said he was very naughty and he felt he still needed a good hard spanking for deceiving me. I told him to get his cane and bring it over to the laptop.

He brought it and placed it in front of the screen so I could see it. It wasn’t a big cane, but it was thin and whippy and would do the job.

‘Look at me and stop snivelling.’ I demanded.

‘Yes Miss, sorry Miss.’ He stammered and did that suck it up thing a child does when they are catching their first breath after crying. Damn he made me so bloody cross! I went to town on his arse.

‘Bend over the arm of the chair Aaron and deliver 30 strokes with the cane. 15 with each hand. Do not stop until they are all delivered and I want to hear that cane cut through the air with a whistle and I want to hear it crack on your ass. You will count each stroke out loud and you will thank me and then demand another stroke. Start now.’

I don’t know if I went overboard on him that day, he was crying like a baby his backside was striped, red and very sore, oh and hot, I can attest to hot. That chilli rub is evil and it burns like hell and that’s just a thin smear. He had a good amount covering every part of his bottom and thighs. He must have felt like he was sat in a fire! Serves him right.

After the caning was over, I told him I didn’t want to hear from him again as I refuse to deal with liars and con men. I left him looking very shamefaced and still apologising to an empty screen. I had logged off. I went online and deleted all of the websites I had joined and decided if I wasn’t getting anything from spanking myself, I might as well just leave it for a while until the urge came back again.

I just hope it comes back soon…

All images are courtesy of the internet

The Boy's Epilepsy Diagnosis – 3 Years

It took the Doctors 3 years to formally diagnose his Epilepsy.

So, after the Boy’s first grand mal seizure on the basketball court, and the doctor on calls subsequent none diagnosis of cause, we spent the next 6 weeks backwards and forwards to the GP clinic to see what had happened. The GP was less than helpful, (there’s a shocker for you!) mainly because diagnosis of epilepsy appears to be above his pay grade. that shouldn’t have stopped him from referring the Boy to a specialist though! That event only took place after I went postal on the GP’s head after the Boy suffered another seizure.

This one was at college. He had just come out of his lecture, and as he pushed out into the hallway he collapsed and fell from his chair, his head hit the floor this time and he cut his forehead open. He was in seizure for 15 minutes and the lecturer called the paramedics and myself.

I arrived at the same time as the paramedics and between us we agreed that the boy had to go to hospital because of the bang to his head. They put him in the back of the ambulance and took him to our local hospital for assessment. I followed in the car. Desperate, panicking, worried to death he would come round to a sea of nameless faces and he would panic.

In the event, he came round as the ambulance arrived at the hospital, the paras were brilliant as usual and kept him calm and comfortable until I got there. They hadn’t tried to over explain anything, they just kept saying, ‘It’s alright son, your mum is right behind us and she will be there as soon as we open the doors.’ It was enough to keep him calm.

He was kept in hospital for 3 days to do X-rays on his head where he had banged it, and also to run tests to find out what the cause of the collapse was. Nobody was talking about Epilepsy. It never got mentioned.

This situation continued unabated, unmedicated and undiagnosed for three years. The boy finally received an appointment with the epilepsy consultant almost 3 years after his first grand mal seizure.

On the day of the appointment the boy requested that I come in with him because he would struggle to explain what happens because he is ‘out of it’ as he puts it. I agreed and we explained to the consultant that this was the reason I was in attendance. I could provide a clearer picture of what had been happening for the past two and a half years. There were two trainee doctors sat at the back of the room and we were asked if we minded them being present. We didn’t. In fact, I actively encourage more people to allow them to be present. It is how they learn best. First hand.

Throughout the whole explanation of 6 seizures over 2 years 7 fits a year, and 20 plus absences a month (very, very high number) that the boy had experienced, the consultant sat with his legs spread wide, his elbows resting on the arm of his chair, his finger steepled under his chin and his eyes closed. I actually thought he may have gone to sleep on us at one point. We persevered and catalogued each and every episode with as much detail as was humanly possible to give. we also gave back information on his hydrocephalus/shunt condition. At the end of it all we sat and waited for him to say something.

What he said made my head pop.

‘Well Sir, I confess, you are a bit of a mystery.’ He finally opened his eyes and looked at the boy. ‘None of what you describe can be attributed to epilepsy I’m afraid. This may pass in time, but I would be remiss in rushing towards a diagnosis that will hinder and therefore change your life forever.’ He was spinning his chair from side to side as he spoke.

I was shocked. I was dumbfounded. I wasn’t the only one. The two trainees sat behind me looked exceptionally confused at his declaration and one of them shook his head at me as if to disagree. I spoke quietly and clearly so as not to be misunderstood by the sleepy consultant.

‘So, what you are saying is, the boy categorically is not presenting with symptoms that are epileptic in nature or appearance? You are saying that presently, regardless of the health issues he is having, he can drive a vehicle? Is that right?’ I waited.

He glanced down his nose at me before he spoke. ‘Yes, I see no reason for the Boy not to continue with driving lessons! You should not be rushing towards a diagnosis of epilepsy for the young man Mrs Strong. It will dog him for the rest of his life and prevent him from doing such things as driving a vehicle, certain types of employment will be closed off to him, there is a great stigma attached to the condition because it is widely misunderstood and it must be declared on any kind of formal declaration. Do you really want that for your son?’ He looked smug. Obviously, this was his preferred choice of put down. Berate the mother for being too pushy, for wanting to diagnose her son with epilepsy just because she wanted it to be that condition. Oh! Silly me, of course that’s what I wanted for the boy! Of course I wanted the seizures and the fits and the absences to be epilepsy. Why the fuck wouldn’t I want that diagnosis? Even the trainee doctors thought the consultant was wrong.

Instead of going very large and postal on the consultant’s head I merely said, ‘Well, to coin your own phrase, You Sir are not a mystery at all, you are a pompous Ass of the first order and I am calling for a second opinion from a consultant who can stay awake and focused during a consultation. I also want a consultant who can dress himself properly in the mornings, you have a large rip in your pants crotch Sir and it is embarrassing to see you in such disarray. We shall take our leave now, but you can be sure, you will be hearing more from me if that second opinion is not forthcoming.’

I stood up turned to the trainee doctors and said, ‘I do hope you get to spend time with a real consultant at some point.’ With that I walked out and the Boy followed swiftly behind me.

Three months later we received an appointment to travel to Liverpool, Walton Hospital to see the second Epilepsy Consultant. We were all geared up for disappointment number 2. We went into the consultation with absolutely no expectations of a diagnosis, what we got was the biggest shock we had received to date.

The Consultant sat and heard us both out, we told him everything from start to finish about what had been happening with the Boy. The consultant nodded and asked questions occasionally, but generally he was alert and listened closely. At the end of it he asked us to come around to his side of the desk because he wanted to show us a scan of the Boy’s head when he was five years old against one taken a few months ago.

Good Doctor!

We did as he asked and he explained what we were seeing.

‘I see you have a Chiari Malformation at the base of your skull, and looking at these scans I can tell you it’s dormant and has been for a number of years. However, that coupled with the Hydrocephalus and the insertion of the Shunt meant that you were more likely than not to develop Epilepsy. Any kind of pressure on the brain can be a trigger. Your brain has been under constant assault because of your pre-existing conditions. I am sorry to tell you that you do indeed have Epilepsy. I want to start you on a course of medication that will control the fits and the seizures, it may not control the absences we shall have to wait and see.’

I was once again dumbfounded, so I asked. ‘I’m sorry, you were talking about the chiari malformation like we knew the Boy had one, how long has he had that for?’

The Consultant looked at me strangely and then shook his head, almost in despair. ‘You didn’t know about it?’ He asked quietly.

‘It’s the first time I have ever even heard of it.’ I said.

‘I have no idea why you both have not been told about this condition, it can be quite serious if not monitored regularly.’ He then addressed the Boy directly. ‘Fortunately it became dormant around about the time you reached 5 years of age from the appearance of the scans and the information I have on file, you should have been told about it, I can only apologise for the lack of forthcoming information. But to answer your question Mum, he has had a chiari malformation since birth.’ He was genuinely disgusted that we had not been told.

Chiari Malformation where the brain stem is being pulled down the back of the neck by the spinal cord.

So, The boy had his diagnosis and also a pre-existing condition that we never knew about, he had his medication that would stop the fits and seizures, he had stopped his driving lessons immediately, for which he was most grateful. He hated driving, he said he never felt safe behind the wheel of a car. It was a relief to stop having to do it.

He has never, ever since then to present date, discussed the Chiari malformation with me, I think he has a mental block regarding that information. He doesn’t want another condition to add to the growing list of conditions he already has. I can’t say that I blame him. I can live without another one for the list too. The Chiari is dormant, I know what signs to look out for that would indicate it may be active again, but from what I understand the likelihood of that happening is very slim. It’s filed under, ‘nothing has changed, we just know more,’ and been put away.

Three years of hell stopped abruptly with the introduction of a tablet taken 4 times a day. The fits and seizures are largely stopped now although the boy suffers with a number of breakthrough absences every week. Usually brought on by stress.

Absences.

It’s an ongoing situation.

All photos/images are courtesy of the Internet.

The Internet Spanking

Do it yourself is overrated. Just sayin…

Just not doing it for me at the moment…

So, I’m back to D I Y and quite frankly, I’m just not feeling it. Any of it. I can spank away to my hearts content but it doesn’t mean I feel it. It isn’t reaching the part of my brain that craves this, and I’m not getting any kind of feeling of discipline or even sexual satisfaction from it. I just feel empty. But worse than that, I feel somewhat out of control again. Losing focus, leaving things that need doing, all the stuff that got me started on this journey in the first place. It’s all crowding back in around me again. I have a very bruised bottom and thighs courtesy of my ability to swing Stuart’s paddle, which he still hasn’t requested back, but those bruises are just colours. No mental imagery goes with them, no flashbacks from how they came to be, no feelings of being disciplined, chastised, humiliated or being made to feel submissive. I miss Stuart and Graham a lot.

So, back to empty. What do I do now? I suppose the reality of it is I need a Spanker/Disciplinarian to take me in hand again. To date, all of my external spankings have come from accidental exposure of my kink to some hitherto unsuspecting human going about their daily business. They have all kind of fallen into my world of spanking and been drawn in for a short while. They all leave though. I’m not a keeper, I know this about myself. People can’t keep me, I won’t let them.

I joined a spanking website or two to see if I could talk to others about spanking. Well, that opened up one or two interesting possibilities, some downright scary ones and a few that were so far of the scale of normal I almost ran screaming from the PC. My philosophy in life is ‘each to their own’. I truly believe we are all unique and special in our own way and I try not to judge people for what they want for themselves, but when that thing they want requires something nasty for me, I then have an opinion. Not for me! I need pain yes, but I am not that masochistically gone that I could want the kind of stuff they want to do to me. Each to their own is fine but they need to keep it to themselves and not give it me, is all I’m sayin’. I just need taking in hand, I need to feel accountable and I need a proper spanking!

During the course of my wanderings around the strange and fascinating world of the internet, I hooked up with Aaron who wanted to discipline me from afar. He had taken the time to read my profile bio and he tailored his response to suit my needs. I chatted with him for a good while before I agreed to taking any discipline from him. I outright refused to meet up with him, I have one thing in my head, I have to protect the boy no matter what. No meeting up with strangers from the internet. (Apparently this caution does not cover strangers and neighbours in my immediate vicinity!)

But an online disciplinarian could work. Couldn’t it?

Just so you all know, I am not big on being photographed, or on letting people see the real me. So this was a huge leap for me. One I was quite uncomfortable with to start off with. I had the laptop set up in the bedroom facing the bed and I was sat on the edge of the bed waiting for Aaron to appear. I was so damn nervous I had to run and do a quick bathroom visit before he came online. (Very aware of my naughty bladder peeps, it can be a thing when I don’t pay attention… TMI? Ask any woman over 40 and then come back to me if they don’t all agree!) I’m telling you… it’s a thing!

Anyway, Aaron appeared on the screen and looked very sternly at me, he sat on a hard backed chair, with his leg crossed over his knee, and he was wearing a white shirt with a tie, and black slacks. He looked like a headmaster I suppose, or maybe a boss? I don’t know what look he was going for but it came over as strict enough, so job done.

‘Hello Gemma, do you have anything to report to me about your behaviour?’ Aaron got straight down to business which I appreciated, but he had a very high pitched, Joe Pesci, type voice which was completely at odds with his appearance, and if I’m being totally honest, it threw me. I couldn’t help it, I started giggling.

‘Yes Sir,’ I was giggling and couldn’t hide it.

‘Why are you laughing Gemma?’ Aaron barked the question at me.

I straightened my face and controlled my giggling, and managed to shrug my shoulders. I didn’t respond to his question so he asked me again.

‘Why are you laughing Gemma, answer me please!’ He was obviously not letting this go so I told him.

‘I was just laughing at how high your voice sounds Sir,’ I said very quietly.

He didn’t look pleased at all. Well, he wouldn’t would he? I had just insulted him! I instantly felt remorseful.

‘I’m sorry Sir, that was rude of me, I think the sound on the laptop isn’t very good and it’s just making you sound… nevermind, I’m very sorry.’

I lowered my eyes and looked down at my feet and waited.

‘I see, so you think you can make fun of my voice, then give me a silly little apology and that will make everything okay again?’ He was furious. I could see the colour mottling his face now and I really did feel bad for what I had done.

‘I really am very sorry Sir, I will try to adjust the sound so your voice comes through properly next time.’ I grovelled.

‘Stand up Gemma.’ He ordered me.

I stood up and crossed my hands in front of me.

‘What punishment do you think you deserve for insulting me?’

‘I don’t know sir,’ I mumbled. Shit, don’t ask me to set the punishment! I would probably go in too heavy from the word go, I waited him out. It didn’t take long.

‘You don’t know. I will tell you then. You will take 2 minutes with the cane on your bare bottom immediately.’

My eyes flew to the screen in shock.

‘Right now? No warm up?’ I stammered

‘That is what immediately means is it not? No warm up, you don’t deserve the luxury of one. The spanking machine will deliver these so that we make sure you get the maximum strike available with the cane. Load it up please.’

I did as I was told and inserted the cane into the spanking machine.

‘Set the dial to maximum power and turn the timer to 2 minutes. That should be sufficient to cover what 12 strokes of the cane would really feel like if I was there delivering them.’ He was definitely getting into his stride!

2 minutes! That is the equivalent of 35 strokes!! Shit! I am in major trouble now! But I do as I’m told. I set everything up as Aaron has ordered.

‘Bend over the end of the bed Gemma, pull your dress up over your hips and pull your panties down.’ I did and then positioned myself over the end of the bed. It suddenly dawned on me in a complete rush of humiliation and embarrassment, that Aaron had an unrestricted view of my bottom and pussy on full display to him and quite suddenly, pussy came out to play with a song and dance! She was throbbing away happily at my humiliation.

I reached behind me and switched the machine on. The first stroke nearly lifted me off my feet! SHIT!!! I had forgotten how horrid the cane is on a fresh bottom. I jumped and howled as the cane flew backwards and forwards at a steady pace as it connected with my tender bottom and thighs. Yes I was doing my hula hoop thing with my hips and up on my toes to relieve my cheeks and let my thighs catch up. I yowled and squealed almost all the way through the two minutes! Aaron instructed me to be silent for the final 30 seconds and if he heard even so much as a sniffle he would make me take a minute extra.

I shoved a handful of duvet into my mouth and bit down as the cane whipped across my bottom and thighs, digging in deep and biting the soft, tender skin. I could feel the welts blooming across my cheeks and then the heat set in along with the heavy stinging throb. Oh god, I had forgotten how painful this can be!

Finally the machine came to a standstill. The 2 minutes were up. Aaron grunted something and then instructed me to change the cane over for the hairbrush. I did as I was told and inserted the hairbrush into the holder.

‘Do you have the mineral oil I instructed you to have ready?’ He asked.

‘Yes sir,’ I mumbled as I showed him the bottle.

‘Apply a liberal amount to your bottom and thighs, give them a good coating and apply some to the back of the hairbrush. When you’re done, we shall stay on maximum power and you can set the timer for 5 minutes to start with.’

Okay so 5 minutes in real spanks is 177 spanks. (I know because I counted them once) this was gonna hurt like crazy! Aaron interrupted me again.

‘Before you start Gemma, remove your dress please, it is getting in the way when you jump about. You will stand in front of the bed so I may inspect you.’

My humiliation was complete. I removed my dress and stood at the end of the bed facing the screen and I watched as he inspected me from head to foot. His eyes lingered on my breasts, barely held in place by my bra. My pussy set up an insistent throbbing and I wanted to groan.

‘Take that bra off. It’s pointless.’ He ordered dismissively.

I removed my bra and placed it with my dress on the stool beside me. I saw heat in his eyes when he caught sight of my very full breasts bouncing as I moved around. Oh yes, he was getting something out of this too. Regardless of his claims during our chats that it wasn’t sexual for him. Like fuck it wasn’t. Leg crossed, arms folded across his groin? I knew what he was hiding! Pussy kicked up a notch and was now singing!

‘Now Gemma, not only have you been exceptionally rude to me, you still have not reported your transgressions to me as I requested. So I am going to assume there are many and a hard and heavy spanking is in order. Position yourself over the end of the bed and begin the spanking please. You are allowed to sway from side to side and move up and down so that your thighs take a spanking. When the five minutes are done, reset the machine for a further five minutes and continue with the spanking.’ Aaron barked out his instructions rapid fire and I hurried to carry them out.

I nodded, eyes downcast, and I positioned myself, reached behind me, switched on the machine and oh my god! That hair brush! The wood connected with my sore bottom on the first spank and dug in gripping my skin, the mineral oil had created a thin slick cover that made the wood hold on contact, sting sharper and connecting harder. I howled and howled and yelped and squealed as it delivered blow after blow, all the time Aaron sat behind me instructing me to lift my bottom up higher, move to the right, move to the left, stand on tiptoe. My thighs had exploded in pain now, they were getting so much attention. I could feel the heat spreading like fire across my bottom and thighs. My poor pussy got caught in the cross fire once or twice because my swinging hips were too slow for the next stroke and thwack, straight across my pussy lips. She was swollen and hot and throbbing painfully but still singing! I could feel the tears prickling my eyes. My pussy was glistening with juices and I knew the screen was not set far enough away for him to not see that. During one of our conversations prior, he had intimated that should I get turned on by the spankings he gave, he would punish me for my naughty thoughts. But that wasn’t it! It wasn’t naughty thoughts at all, it was a wonderful reaction to counteract the delightfully painful spanking! That was what did it, oh and I think exposing myself might have been a huge factor too. I am an exhibitionist after all!

Finally the first 5 minutes came to an end and I stood up shakily, sniffling, panting, hurting, and I reset the timer. I repositioned myself over the bed and was about to reach back and start again when Aaron spoke.

‘Move the machine along the side of the bed Gemma and then I want you to kneel on hands and knees on the bed facing forward so you can see me. This five minutes will concentrate on your thighs and sit spot. You will look at me for the whole five minutes. I want to see the pain on your face as each stroke lands. ‘ He sounded positively fucking gleeful!

I moved the machine and got into position. I felt so very exposed with my breasts swinging in full view, and my tear stained face right in front of him, at this point I was crawling with humiliation.

I reached behind me and started the machine again. Every thought, every single thought disappeared in a rush as the spanking began again, the only thing I could hear was the arm of the machine as it pulled back and the SMACK as the brush landed on my sit spots and red hot thighs. I could only feel the pain. My humiliation was a very secondary thing now as that brush roamed around my bottom and thighs and turned my super soft bottom into hard leather as each spank landed over and over in the same place when I forgot to move! I was in a world of pain and everywhere was throbbing intensely. Stinging, biting, wet smacks sticking as they landed, my skin blooming underneath in all different directions. My pussy was on fire and I knew I was barely a nanosecond from cumming! I didn’t dare though, I checked that bad girl! I didn’t want him to see that look on my face! That could come later, when the screen was off and I was completely alone and safe from further chastisement!

I groaned, moaned, wailed, sobbed and cried all the way through the five minutes of pure agony that brush delivered on my ass. Aaron leaned forward so that he could see every single excruciating stroke of that brush etch itself onto my face as pain and he smiled. A big happy smile. Sadistic bastard!

The machine stopped. The room fell heavily silent for a moment, I almost forgot to breathe, so beautiful was the lack of sound from that damned machine. And then Aaron ruined it with his high pitched voice.

‘Get up Gemma, go and stand in the corner where I can see you, 10 minutes, hands on head, legs together, no touching, no soothing your bottom. Apply a liberal amount of the chilli rub you said you have.’

I stumbled from the bed and walked unsteadily to the corner of the room and assumed the position. I applied the chilli rub and Oh, oh, oh… the numbness was wearing off, prickly heat began spreading outwards from the centre of the twin hard spots, fire licked at my skin, dancing across it in finger light touches, here and there, then deepening, then turning to hot, hot, hot, throbbing everywhere. My sit spot was consumed with a dull heavy ache and my thighs were burning and stinging and throbbing. Everywhere hurt and burned fiercely!

After the ten minute corner time ended, Aaron called me back to stand with my back to the screen so that he could see his handy work. I heard him grunt his approval of the damage the machine had wrought on my bottom and then he instructed me to turn around. I turned and faced the screen and waited.

‘You have barely tasted a punishment today Gemma, we will build up slowly until we meet your maximum times from past endeavours with the spanking machine. Now, as you are obviously very turned on from this spanking experience, I am setting some extra non-spanking punishments that you will carry out for the remainder of the week until our next appointment.

You will not masturbate, touch yourself or gain any sexual relief until I give you permission, you will do corner time every night for 10 minutes until our next appointment and you will think about your wayward behaviour, you will also hand write 500 lines saying ‘I must not be lazy and I deserve a hard spanking’. Do you understand?’

I nodded and said in a very tiny voice, ‘Yes Sir.’

No sexual relief? FOR A WEEK?? NOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!

All photos courtesy of the internet except the bruised bottom, that’s mine.

Back to Plan A.

When you are out of the usual options, do it yourself.

Stuart has gone, and he said he isn’t coming back. Why?

Because I’m me, that’s why. Because, after our last spanking session turned into the hottest sex session I have ever experienced, I declared it could never happen again. I said he could spank me, I said he could cane me, I told him he could pet me, tease me, but he couldn’t take things to the end game again. I wasn’t up for it.

Why? Because he wants us to have a full on relationship, all bells and whistles, with a view to marriage at the end of it all. No chance. I won’t go there again ever. I don’t care if I am in love with him. I can get over that. Oh… Yeah, I am you know, in love with him, have been for a few years, but I don’t feel good about it. I feel hemmed in. I feel panic stricken, I feel afraid.

It’s a big fat trap!

Hence the big argument. He thinks I’m punishing him for Don’s (ex) bad treatment of me. I pointed out it wasn’t just bad treatment, he systematically stripped my personality down to the bare minimum and discarded every single likeable, original, loveable part of me for 20 long years, until there was nothing left but a shell and all in the name of that widely abused word, love.

Would Stuart do the same? Probably not, but I am adamant, I am never betting on the relationship pony again. I never thought Don would do it, so why shouldn’t Stuart turn out to be a major arsehole too?

Never doing that again!

Yes I’m gutted that he has gone and in anger too, I’m not completely devoid of emotions, but I refuse to believe I should compromise just because the sex was mind blowing once. Okay, three times, but that is so not the point! I have the right to make my own choices and live by my own rules. He knew that going in. Nothing changed, he just thought he could change my mind because the sex was amazing. He can’t. I can live without the sex. I cannot live with compromise, space stealing, time hogging, whining, extra laundry, extra emotional needs, all in the name of so called love! It drains me. I have no wish to do it, so I’m not.

Damn he threw a temper tantrum like I’ve never seen before. That hardened me against his plight actually, because when the chips were down, he didn’t back off from his anger, he embraced it. Even knowing my very full and chequered history with angry, abusive men, he still embraced his anger rather than step back and say, I get it, I don’t like it, but I get it. You have the right to say no if you want to.

I like my life just the way it is. Answerable to me alone.

So, Stuart has gone but he left behind his new paddle. I guess he will want it back at some point but until then I shall be experimenting with the self spanking variety of discipline with this lovely, but very painful, paddle. Besides, I branded it with my bite mark. Therefore mine!

So, here I am again. I am happily embracing my D I Y philosophy once more and self spanking is going to resume sooner rather than later. I am no longer hankering for a long term spanker. They are too complicated. I’m going back to plan A. but maybe with the curtains closed, or not… Who knows?

I can’t use the paddle with the spanking machine, the handle of it is too big, so it’s going to be trial and error with this one. Over the past few months, I have found myself being spanked in pretty much every conceivable position that is humanly doable for my build and height. The one that interested me the most though was lying on the bed with my legs raised and held together while I was spanked very, very hard by Stuart and then again a little later by Graham. That was a hell of a spanking session and one I have not recounted here because, well, I just didn’t. I might in the future if I feel like reminiscing but for now it’s all about the position.

Without further ado, I turned the key in the front door, and me and the paddle made our way to my bedroom for a good hard spanking. My bottom had started tingling at the bottom of the stairs, by the time I reached the top, my pussy was singing a tune in perfect harmony with it.

I was wearing a wrap around style red dress, stockings, and a thong so I didn’t even have to change into something suitable for a spanking.

I laid down on the bed, raised my legs in the air and wrapped an arm around them to hold them in place. It’s easier said than done but I finally got into a secure position and I lifted the paddle. I didn’t want a warm up, I wanted to feel this paddle burn my cheeks. I wanted to feel the pain bite me. Since Stuart’s angry exit, I had been feeling kind of numb.

I raised the paddle high and wide and swung in with all the force I could muster.

CRACK! The paddle landed flush across my cheeks and bit hard into the soft flesh. Jesus that hurt. I brought the paddle back and swung in again, and again and again, setting up a steady tempo of spanks, smacks, cracks and swats all over my thighs and cheeks until my bottom was on fire with the heat. Everywhere throbbed all at the same time and my pussy was wet and hot and throbbing with need.

I spanked harder, I didn’t want to play, I wanted to hurt. I wanted that pain to make me feel real again. I was going to burst that bubble of emotional numbness baggage if it was the last thing I did. I spanked and spanked until I couldn’t lift the paddle to swing it.

The tears were conspicuous by their absence, I hadn’t shouted, yelped screamed, howled or any of the usual variety of pain filled noises I was want to come out with.I may have whimpered once or twice, I’m not superhuman! I was just hurting a lot. But not enough.

I climbed off the bed and stripped my dress off and I covered my bottom in chilli rub. Damn, damn, damn, that stuff is so bloody HOT! I stood in the corner of my bedroom for 10 minutes while the chilli rub settled into a searing heat, which did bring tears to my eyes but they didn’t fall. I cleared my mind of any and all thoughts and I just absorbed nothing but the pain. It was exquisitely, beautifully painful.

Ten minutes later I was back on the bed, legs in the air paddle in my left hand now and I spanked myself as hard as I could for as long as my arm would allow. The centre spot on each cheek was rock hard, the paddle had turned my bottom numb. My head was empty at last and I crawled up the bed to my pillows, inhaled Stuart’s scent and cried myself to sleep.

I woke three hours later to my alarm going off at 4pm. Early warning that the boy would be arriving home from college in 15 minutes.

I got up, washed my face, got dressed and went and sat downstairs in the kitchen on the hardest most uncomfortable chair I could find. My bottom was throbbing, my thighs were on fire and my pussy was singing. My head was empty of treacherous thoughts and I was back in my own zone again so I pasted a fuck off big smile on my face ready for the boy coming in.

I knew I would be fine… eventually.

All photos courtesy of the internet except the wooden paddles. Mine. 🙂

Stuart's in Town and he brought a new Paddle!

I have officially sworn off all things spanking after the final Graham spanking. My poor bottom is still black and blue and my thighs have pinstripes courtesy of that wicked cane and we are now 4 days after the event!

D I Y again…

Okay, so it feels yummy now the pain has subsided and the throbbing has started and I’ve been hot and horny for days! But y’know this brings about it’s own problems when you don’t have a partner! D I Y spanking, D I Y play time, gotta say peeps, I’m all for it but just sometimes I need something more, my only point of call would have been Stuart and that is a whole load of complicated I really don’t need!

He is hot though, and he does want to… if I could just control the submissive thing around him. Unlikely, besides, he wants the whole relationship thing with a view to a long term future. Never again. Not ever. I would rather play nice with the vicar than do that again… Nooo! wash my mouth out and bleach my eyes, I just pictured that very hairy bottom again!

have to make this very small, hurts m’eyes! Not nice!

See? Spankings leave me in a total mess!

Anyway, I had just about got all my hot and horny stuff under control and back in its box when Stuart texted me and said he was local and was calling round to see me. Stuart knows the boy’s schedule better than I do, and he knew the boy was out all day in college. I couldn’t wriggle out of it. To be fair, I didn’t really want to, I just get so nervous when he’s around. I never know what’s going to happen these days!

I should have realised when I read the text, he was in strict mode. He hadn’t asked if he could come round, he had told me he was coming. He’s usually a lot more polite than that and always asks if I’m busy first. Not this time.

Ten minutes later he was ringing the door bell. I wandered up the hall and opened the door for him. He smiled, kind of, and I stood back to let him in. Once I had closed the door he got straight into it with me.

‘Had a call from Gray, he said he isn’t spanking you anymore?’

I was already walking back to the kitchen so I had my back to him. I just shrugged my shoulders and said ‘yep’.

Stuart walked in behind me and sat down at the table with his long legs stretched out and his arms folded across his chest. Damn, did I mention he’s hot?

I turned away from all those muscles and started making a brew.

‘What the hell did you do to make him so adamant he wasn’t going to spank you anymore?’ Stuart sounded cross! What on earth did he have to be cross about?

I turned on him, ‘Now just hang on a minute, why do you always assume it’s going to be something I’ve done?’ I could feel my temper rising.

He raised his eyebrow at me and his lip curled, ‘because it usually is?’

‘Huh, well it wasn’t me this time. Graham’s scared he is gonna hurt me, and quite frankly, so am I, so I’m all good with the fact that he doesn’t want to spank me anymore!’ I popped my own ‘miffed’ bubble. It wasn’t worth getting into an argument with Stuart, I would lose. Hands down!

‘You do know that doesn’t get you out of being spanked, don’t you?’ Damn he was pushing me! My ‘miffed’ bubble was re inflating! I put his cup of tea in front of him and sat facing him at the table with my own drink.

‘You just come here to give me grief, or was there an actual reason for your visit? Besides telling me off for Graham’s defection from your spanking team, that is!’ I can push too. I’m good at it.

Stuart grinned at me, it was the first time he had smiled properly since he had got here and I relaxed a little. Familiar territory at last! ‘What you grinning at?’ I smiled back at him.

‘I bought the most fantastic wood paddle online the other day and I knew I would be in your area today so I brought it with me. Lets face it, there is usually a list as long as my arm of stuff you need taking to task for, so I thought I could kill two birds with one stone and give you a spanking with the new paddle!’ He was GRINNING AT ME!

not the exact one but close enough!

NO to the unexpected spanking! Just NO! Besides, I had already just decided I wasn’t doing the spanking thing anymore, hadn’t I? Not to mention I was still sporting some hefty Graham bruising in all my tender areas!

So, why was my bottom tingling? Jeez! No will power whatsoever! I wriggled on my seat and scowled at Stuart. ‘I don’t want a spanking thank you, I haven’t done anything at all to deserve one, and even if I had, I wouldn’t tell you!’

Stuart laughed out loud at my pouting lip, my sulky attitude and the idea that I thought I might have a say in the matter!

‘Oh Gem, you really are priceless! Graham told me about the Vicar and the Wilson’s incident at the supermarket you know. Personally I thought you were right and I wouldn’t have spanked you for it. I would have spanked you for arguing with me about it though. Anyway, it doesn’t matter because I am going to spank you today, call it a maintenance spanking if you want, but it’s going to happen!’

I was fuming! This was just not fair at all! I stood up from the table and refused to speak until I could form words that didn’t involve swear words. I didn’t want to give him a bloody reason to spank me, he was happy enough doing it without one as it was!

I decided to play to his softer side. ‘I still have a lot of bruising from Graham’s spanking, I don’t think I could take another one right now. My thighs are still sore and my bottom is very bruised Stu.’ I glanced at his face with my big sad cow eyes and … nothing. Not even a flicker of sympathy crossed his face! So I begged, kind of, I wheedled and whined but it was all to no avail.

Stuart stood up and came around the table to stand in front of me. He took my chin in his hand and smiled at me, ‘Oh come on Gem, we both know you are in the throbbing stages of that spanking now and if I know anything about you at all, I know you will have made full use of the beneficial side effects of it! You should have a spanking just for trying to con me!’

I was losing major ground due to close proximity with all those muscles and pheromones! My brain was pouring submissive oil all over itself ffs! I would not go down without a fight! I stamped my foot and pouted, (I know, I know, who the hell is that woman?!) ‘I’m sore Stu, I’m bruised, look…’ I pushed him away from me and turned around and lifted my skirt so he could see Graham’s handy work for himself. I’m not conning you…’ I glanced over my shoulder at him and oh oh, I had just made a tactical error for sure.

Stuart reached a hand out and stroked my twin bruised globes, he stepped closer behind me and nuzzled my neck with his mouth as his fingers traced the cane welts still present on my thighs.

‘Damn Gem, he branded you baby!’ His breathing had changed and I could feel his erection pressing against my throbbing bottom and my pussy reacted instantly, she was singing that song right back at him! Full chorus! I had lost this fight, we both knew it, and a spanking from him right now would feel like heaven to all my hot throbbing places! His fingers squeezed and stroked my bottom and he turned my head so his mouth covered mine.

Gone! Done for. I had more chance of taking the faith and becoming a fucking nun than I did of refusing him whatever he wanted right now.

He broke the kiss and I leaned into the wall pushing my bottom out and into his stroking hands. He moved to the side of me and spoke quietly, ‘hold the position baby, it’s time.’ He reached for his coat and pulled out the paddle from his inside pocket. It was wide and round and big enough to cover my whole bottom, so both cheeks were going to catch it every single stroke! My bottom thrust itself out a little more as he came back around to my side.

‘Open your mouth Gem,’ I looked confused but I did as he said and opened my mouth. He placed the flat of the paddle between my teeth. ‘Close your mouth and do not drop my new paddle.’ His voice was stern, but his eyes were hot and I did as I was told and brought my teeth together around the edge of the paddle and gripped.

‘Good girl.’ His hand was stroking my bottom and then he lifted it and brought it down flat on my cheek in a light slap, quickly followed by a flurry of small light spanks all over my cheeks and a few on my thighs. My bottom and thighs and pussy were all tingling at the same time, and I moaned as I spread my legs a little for better balance.

Stuart found the edge of my thong and peeled it down over my warm cheeks leaving it stretched between my knees. ‘Don’t let that paddle fall, Gem.’

He began hand spanking me in earnest then, the smacks coming thick and fast all over both cheeks and I bit down on the paddle, I couldn’t yelp! I couldn’t OW! I couldn’t HOWL when he found a tender spot! I could only moan and squirm and bite that damn paddle! I wriggled and swayed my cheeks to try to redirect his spanks but he just chuckled at my paltry efforts and held me fast by the hips as he continued to rain spanks down covering my twin globes of cherry red and my hot thighs! I was in ecstasy and pure agony all at the same time. My brain was oozing pleasure endorphins into my psyche and I was getting perilously close to an orgasm. I pushed up harder against his down stroke and met his hand as it connected sharply, again and again and again.
He stopped then, his hands smoothing over my skin, squeezing, stroking, petting and then his fingers slid along the wet crease of my pussy and pushed between the folds to find my swollen clit and I was lost. A few strokes and I came, hard. He stood so close behind me now I could feel his erection throbbing against my bottom as his fingers worked on me making me moan and wriggle and tremble. My legs were shaking, I had chills running up and down my body and I was in heaven!

Suddenly the paddle was gone from my mouth and was landing flush against my hot throbbing bottom! One, two, three, four…. OW OW OW OW!! I yelped, I danced as that paddle stung, bit, and sent waves of fire right the way across both cheeks! Oh jesus this was so much worse than a hairbrush!

‘You put teeth marks in my paddle Gem, that just earned you a good hard spanking lady!’ That paddle is evil! Personified! I was howling, yelping, the tears spilled and I was sobbing as it came down with crack after crack against my hot tender bruised rear. I pleaded with him, I promised him the earth if he would just stop spanking me, but he kept on, smoothing the paddle against my hot cheeks, rubbing it into them, then lifting and bringing it down sharply over the same spot until I had twin hard spots on my cheeks and the heat bloomed and spread everywhere, my pussy was throbbing in unison now and I was well on the way to my second orgasm, my body was on fire!

Finally he began to slow down and I knew we were getting close to the end of the spanking. I was quieter now, the tears were still flowing freely but my bottom had gone blessedly numb and all I could feel was the low insistent throbbing like a thick band across my cheeks and thighs and pussy.

Stuart put the paddle on the floor and then ran his hands over my cheeks, squeezing them, rubbing them, his fingers went on their own journey of discovery and he found what he was looking for. He pushed two fingers into the edge of my pussy and I pushed back onto them…

An hour later we were sat on the sofa in the lounge, we were both exhausted, utterly and completely spent but beautifully satisfied as I sat cradled on his naked lap with his big arms holding me inside them safely. I was hot and throbbing everywhere and I didn’t run away this time, I soaked it up. This had been a long time coming and I was happy and content now that it had finally happened.

No… A repeat performance was not on the cards. I am adamant, and for once, I kept my promise to myself!

All photographs courtesy of the Internet. Except the wooden paddles, they are now both mine! I kid you not. Both of them 😀

The Boy at 19 and the start of Epilepsy

Epilepsy had reared it’s ugly head

The regional team has two squads, Under 15’s and Under 19’s. All the players who are selected for the Under 15’s still have to compete in trials for a position on the Under 19’s squad when they turn 15. The boy took part in a number of trials and was successful in his bid to take a place on the Under 19’s squad.

Once again he was flying high and wheelchair basketball consumed our every waking minute! From the age of 12 to 19 he had 7 solid good years in the Junior squads, junior leagues, the main club division leagues and he was now training with the under 25’s Welsh International Squad. Life was fantastic for him.

When he turned eighteen and a half, his time with the junior squads came to an end but with a roll call of awards, gold medals, cups, silver medals, one bronze medal that he has no wish to talk about, and a host of other accolades from club level through to Sports awards recognition. He had found his direction in life and was content for the longest time to see where his dreams would lead him.

Some of his many accolades, medals and trophies.

By this time, he had left school and was attending college full time, he had signed up for the sports science course and was doing well. Then, illness struck.

It was just 2 days before his 19th birthday and we had a club league match at home. He was strapping himself into his basketball chair and preparing himself for the match when he collapsed.

His body folded over double and he had what we now know to be his first Grand Mal seizure. At the time however, we thought he had blacked out. The blackout lasted 20 minutes. It ranks up there as the most terrifying 20 minutes of my life to date. We had no idea what had happened, why he had blacked out, (as we thought) and we were waiting for the paramedics to arrive.

They arrived 15 minutes after we called and they took him to the nearest hospital.

By the time we arrived at the hospital, the boy was coming around and he was panicking, confused, he didn’t know what day it was, where he was, what had happened or what time it was. I explained what had happened and he was completely confused. He kept saying how could he have collapsed at the match when it’s only Friday, and the match is on Saturday? He was so anxious a doctor gave him a mild sedative to calm him down and he went to sleep for the whole day.

The doctor was not very forthcoming with a diagnosis for the boy. He was leaning towards it being a one off event, caused primarily by the strapping on the Boy’s chair possibly being pulled too tightly and cutting off his circulation which had caused the black out which had possibly caused a bump to the head which had possibly caused the confusion and disorientation! They would keep him overnight for observation but they weren’t concerned about him really. It could happen to anyone.

What a load of absolute bollocks! It was after this statement I considered I was possibly dealing with an imbecile.

I stripped down the doctor’s diagnosis for him with reasoned thinking and practical knowledge regarding the strapping and first hand knowledge of the order of events. I explained that the straps on the chair are Velcro straps and are preset in the chair and can only be pulled to a certain tension. You can not pull them any tighter, they are there to provide safety and security but not to overly restrain. He has been using the same chair for 4 years, if they were too tight surely the lack of circulation would have reared its ugly head way before now? At the very least they would have left imprints on his legs and we would have been alerted to them being too tight. Therefore that could not be considered the cause. I also explained very patiently, that he did not bang his head, even when he tipped forward and his chair tipped up two other players caught him before he hit the floor. Therefore the none bang to the head could not have caused the subsequent confusion when he had come around. I also asked the doctor why he was blatantly ignoring the fact that the boy had been unconscious for 20 minutes, why he had suffered a full body lock down, why his bowels had evacuated and why he had no memory of Saturday’s events before the ‘blackout’? Saturday morning had not happened for the boy at all. He was convinced it was Friday.

The doctor’s answer? I’m sure it must have felt like 20 minutes to you, but it was probably only a few minutes in reality. These things do happen and we lose all sense of time ourselves brought on by shock.

Apparently, so do 45 other people who were present when the boy collapsed. Who could all attest to the blackout lasting 20 minutes. The paramedics could also attest to the fact that he had been unconscious for a minimum of 15 minutes before they arrived as proved by the time the call had been placed and the content of the conversation had between myself and the emergency services operator, they could also attest to the fact that it was a further 5 minutes before he came round in the ambulance on the way to the hospital. Ergo, it was not a shock induced phenomenon where 45 people had lost the ability to measure time, it was in actual fact 20 minutes!

The paramedics had been more forthcoming with a possible diagnosis of an epileptic seizure, they said that the other symptoms pointed to it being a grand-mal seizure, body lock down, (none of his limbs would move) bowel evacuation and the length of time he was out was also indicative of epilepsy, not to mention the level of confusion and disorientation he had suffered. They had not ignored the other symptoms, they had taken into account all of the relevant medical background information I had provided them with. The red flag for them to look towards epilepsy being the cause was the fact that he had a shunt fitted and has hydrocephalus. Therefore they erred on the side of caution and brought him to the hospital, and now here we were dealing with an imbecile of the first order. I despaired.

24 hours later and the boy was back at home with me and appeared to be absolutely fine! The most astonishing thing that happened in this 24 hours was that the moron formerly known as his father actually came to the hospital to see him. This was the first time we had seen him since I had filed for divorce some 6 months previously.

I was exhausted mentally and physically and so did not put up an argument when he had appeared on the ward. In the event, the boy was quite pleased to see him and thought that his father might actually care a little bit after all.

Obviously the narcissist disproved this theory before too much time passed but for the time being it was a salve for the boy’s emotional distress and worry about his changing health and what it could mean for his future.

An appointment was made with the GP and the real fight to prove epilepsy was the cause, began.

I will say right now, this period of the boy’s life and health concerns are still ranking as the worst time we have gone through together and that was taking into account 13 surgical operations, countless months spent in hospital and loss of mobility all put together. He was utterly devastated by this latest development.

I began to spend a great deal more time worrying and a lot less time sleeping…

We are back here again.

All photos courtesy of the internet except the trophy cabinet, that belongs to the boy.

Graham and the Cane part 2.

continued…

Graham watched as my face betrayed my thoughts, he nodded and stood up. I made to stand as well, but he said, ‘Stay where you are, I’ll be back in a few minutes.’

I sat back down and drank my tea. I assume he had called someone on the phone as I could hear him talking. Still mutinous, I was definitely portraying my ‘I don’t give a fuck’ resting bitch face when Graham appeared in the kitchen doorway. In one hand he held that lethal looking cane Stuart had gifted him and in the other a thin wooden paddle that was wide and long enough to cover both cheeks with one stroke. Oh fuck!

And… this is where my mouth needs a muzzle!

‘Ooh! Do I get to choose? Well let me see, how abouuuut…. oh I know… neither!’ My smart mouth, I despair of it!

Not content with resting bitch face, I love to make matters worse with a drop or two of sarcasm!

Graham chuckled and walked across to the breakfast bar where I was seated. He placed the cane right in front of me on the bench and put the paddle on the seat next to me.

My pussy twitched! What? My pussy was twitching! FFS!! Why does this excite me so damn much!?! I wriggled a little on the stool and eyed the cane warily. It really is the most evil looking thing.

Evil bloody cane!

Graham stood to one side of me and was methodically rolling up his shirt sleeves. I gulped, this was happening. I wasn’t getting out of it and my brain did that thing to me where it just capitulated and accepted I was going to be spanked! Submission brain is a bastard people!

I sighed and slipped off the wooden stool. Standing in front of Graham, I lowered my eyes, ‘Where do you want to do this then?’

If he was surprised at my immediate submission he did a good job of not showing it.

He said, ‘I just talked with Stu and he suggests a ten minute warm up hand spanking with you over my knee followed by ten minutes over the knee with the paddle and then 6 strokes of the cane with you bent over this stool. I agree.’

Wait…WHAT? Stuart said? WTF does Stuart have to do with anything?

I couldn’t help myself, ‘Why did you ask Stuart? Can’t you decide for yourself Graham?’ Yeah, submissive brain has done a runner, adversarial brain is in residence again!

His eyes narrowed and his lips thinned in controlled temper. ‘On the contrary, but he and I agreed that he is your Disciplinarian. If I feel you require discipline in his absence I will always defer to him and carry out his orders. Besides, you wouldn’t want me to give you my brand of discipline Gemma. You bore the bruises for a good week the last time. Neither he nor I want that to happen again.’

Well what the hell am I supposed to say to that? Nothing! I was already in enough trouble. Instead I sighed, pulled up my skirt around my hips, pulled down my panties to my knees and I assumed the position over his knee.

Now, because he is tall and so are the stools in the kitchen, my feet were both on the floor and my legs were straighter than usual, just the top half of me was bent over his knee. Oh my goodness, when that first smack landed I yelped! This new position meant that there was no resistance in my bottom at all and it was completely soft and therefore vulnerable! Damn this was gonna hurt more than usual!

Graham quickly set up a steady hand spanking that warmed my bottom up swiftly and exactly ten minutes later he switched to the paddle. I could feel the heat coming off my cheeks now and the throbbing had begun to set in, my unfaithful pussy, however, had gone completely silent on me again. I give up!

The paddle landed for the first spank of a ten minute hard spanking! OMFG! Both cheeks errupted in pain! This was not fair! I squealed, I couldn’t even dance because of the position I was in, Graham had the tightest grip on my waist that I was never getting out of! The paddling was intense and fast and my bottom and thighs were singing with each stroke, then he changed his pace and slowed it down a touch, this was worse because now the previous spanks had time to bloom before the next one arrived and my whole bottom was throbbing painfully with each new stroke. My poor thighs were stinging and he made sure they got equal attention from the paddle. I could feel the tears welling, I was sobbing now, and yes I was beginning to plead and whine and say I was sorry, utterly humiliating! Graham was impervious to my grovelling, he just continued whacking that horrid paddle for the full ten minutes until the last second, only then did the paddling stop and I suddenly found myself upright.

‘Go and stand in the corner for 5 minutes Gemma, let that lot settle in. Do not touch your bottom. You know I will add strokes with the cane if you do.’ Graham pointed to the corner and I went, in a hurry!

I stood there for the full five minutes, I was hiccuping and sobbing, sniffling and I was desperate to rub my poor, poor hot bottom and thighs but I didn’t dare.

Graham came to stand behind me, I felt him rub cream into my hot burning bottom and thighs and I knew I was going to be in a world of pain in about 20 seconds!

‘Back over to the counter Gemma, assume the position over the stool.’

I bent to pick my panties up from around my ankles and he stopped me.

‘Leave them there, if they come off I will give you an extra 3 strokes of the cane, now get back over to the counter!’

I stumbled and shuffled but I kept those damned panties ON!! No way was I giving him any opportunity to wield that cane anymore than the six Stuart had ordered!

My face was red with embarrassment as I heard him chuckling behind me. I knew I was waddling like a duck, but you know what was worse, I was getting off on the humiliation. I could feel my brain kicking in and telling me, you shouldn’t have mouthed off at the Vicar, you shouldn’t have upset the Wilson’s, you shouldn’t have mouthed off to Graham, you only have yourself to blame for this. Own it.

So I did, and then the tears came, silent tears running down my cheeks as I assumed the position over the kitchen stool. I leaned right over and gripped half way down the legs and I held on for dear life, because to move when Stuart is spanking is foolish but it usually just gets you a warning, to move out of position with Graham? Man your arse is going to pay big time for it. I held on tight, gritted my teeth and waited for the first stroke to land. It felt like FOREVER!!

By now the evil chili rub had begun it’s deep heat torture of my bottom and thighs. Bloody hell that stuff is HOT! My skin was burning deeply, my bottom and thighs were throbbing so hard they actually ached deeply. I was in a world of pain and then the first stroke landed!

I threw my head back and HOWLED, that cane! Jesus that cane BITES like no other I have ever felt. The tears were falling freely now and I was crying in earnest. I didn’t plead, I didn’t beg, I didn’t apologise for my behaviour, I just took the six strokes as loudly as I could so he knew they were hitting home.

And then it was over. Graham walked around the other side of the counter and told me to stand up and get dressed. I did and then I grabbed the handful of tissues he was holding out to me and blew my nose, wiped my eyes and sorted myself out.

‘Sit down Gemma, I want to talk to you before you go home.’

SIT DOWN? WAS HE KIDDING ME?? He could fuck right off with the sit downs!

‘I’m going to stand thank you.’ I said quietly.

‘I told you to sit Gemma and you will sit. NOW.’ His tone brooked no argument.

So, I’m sitting… on a very unforgiving hard wooden stool and my bottom and thighs are screaming so loud I can barely concentrate on what Graham is saying. I hate that man sometimes!

Graham looked at me seriously, ‘I won’t be carrying out your discipline again Gemma, this is the last time. I really am scared of hurting you. I will forward information to Stuart when I think he needs to know what you’ve been up to, but I will no longer stand in for him.’

Honestly? I was fucking relieved!

He doesn’t like holding back and his holding back is like Stuart’s full on power spank!

‘And just so you know,’ he added, ‘I will be having a word with the Vicar after service on Sunday. I hear your argument and agree with you. He has abused his position and I will see to it he is punished suitably for it.’

I nodded mutely, I didn’t trust myself to speak other than to ask ‘Can I leave now please?’ He nodded and I slid off the stool and left his house without so much as a backward glance.

A thought struck me as I walked away, I wonder whether the Vicar would get the caning of a lifetime from Graham? Now that would be poetic justice!

By the time I let myself into my home I was grinning widely at the thought!

I am still glad Graham isn’t going to discipline me anymore!

All photos courtesy of the internet.

Graham and the Cane

part One.

After the surprise spanking and the almost very sexual experience with Stuart, I decided to err on the side of caution for a while and just be good! You would think that shouldn’t be so difficult to achieve, but honestly, trouble finds me even when I’m not looking!

I think I managed to be good for about two weeks before the novelty of it began to wane somewhat. Being good is hard work, especially when I went shopping in the local supermarket and ran into the Vicar who was standing in an aisle talking with the Wilson’s. They all gave me the kind of look one usually reserves for dog shit on the street! I couldn’t help myself, I hate that kind of behaviour so I smiled and waved and walked over to them. It was fun to watch them gather together in a mistrustful little huddle against the woman who had thrown them all into such spanking disarray!

I smiled at the Vicar and said, ‘How’s the bottom now Vic, none the worse for the paddling I take it? Oh that reminds me, I still have your table tennis bat at my house, would you like me to drop it into the church or will you collect it yourself?’
Of course he went scarlet! He didn’t know where to look, good thing he didn’t try and make eye contact with the Wilson’s, they looked shocked to death at the revelation!

I waited patiently for a response, I was really enjoying watching him squirm. ‘Vicar?’ I prompted.

He was blushing furiously and began to stammer, ‘I don’t think… that is, well… you can keep it I won’t be needing it.’ He all but ran away from a very shocked looking Mr and Mrs Wilson who both put their heads down and hurried away in the opposite direction.

I bent over the side of the freezer to grab a pack of frozen peas, I was so busy giggling I didn’t notice Graham come around the corner of the aisle.

As I straightened up and turned around I collided with a very solid object and almost fell backwards into the freezer! Graham reached out a steadying hand and caught me. I found my footing again and smiled carefully at him. I immediately had a very intense flash back to just two weeks ago and that very hot spanking with Stuart that Graham had happily witnessed. It was my turn to squirm uncomfortably.

‘Seen anything of Stu lately?’ Graham asked, he had such a knowing look in his eyes and a naughty smile on his face, I would have paid good money to get away with slapping him in that moment. It is a good thing I am not given to violent tendencies, well… I am but only as far as spanking myself goes!

I’m not brave enough…

I smiled tightly, ‘No, I’m sure you would have heard about it if I had. Seems he’s more your friend than mine these days.’

He shrugged his big powerful shoulders and took control of my shopping trolley!

‘Hey! Where are you going with that?’ I stomped after him, I was having a complete snit fit now! Funny how a mood can change in the blink of an eye!

Graham just turned and smiled at me, a big full on smile, as he said, ‘I’m going to accompany you around the store while you do your shopping and then we are going home to my house to talk about that little scene you just pulled with the Vicar and the Wilsons. I heard it all, I was in the next lane. It wasn’t nice to expose the Vicar like that Gem, in fact it was very naughty indeed.’ His tone of voice did not match his smile! He sounded really stern and Graham does stern extremely effectively!

The Vicar is being defended???

My bottom tingled and my tummy turned over, but it wasn’t fair of him to castigate me when they had been the instigators with their snooty looks. ‘Oh come on! He deserved it! Sanctimonious twit, you didn’t see the way he looked down his nose at me and encouraged the Wilson’s to do the same! I don’t have to put up with that kind of snide behaviour when I haven’t done anything wrong!’ I was full of righteous indignation.

‘Like I said, we’ll talk about it back at my house, I know the boy is out for at least another 4 hours today! Perfect opportunity for a chat. Come on, let’s get the shopping finished.’ With that he strode off down the aisle with my shopping trolley full of food and disappeared around the corner.

So that’s how I found myself sat in Graham’s house less than an hour later, my shopping had been taken home, he had helped me unpack and put it all away and then he had kidnapped me and absconded with me to his house.

I sat in the kitchen while he made a brew and we chatted about neutral stuff for a few minutes until he was ready to join me.

He sat facing me and watched me for a minute before he spoke, ‘You know, you really shouldn’t have outed the Vicar that way Gem, it was poor form in my opinion and just plain spiteful. Why did you do it?’

I shrugged my shoulders, ‘Like I said before, the way they looked at me just made me really cross because all of them have taken advantage of me, not the other way around.’

Graham thought about what I had said for a moment, ‘that may well be so, but in the middle of the supermarket Gem? He is the Vicar, he has to stand up every week in front of the congregation and deliver a sermon. You greatly undermined his ability to do his work by outing him like that. I find that indefensible.’

Oh oh… what was going on here? Is Graham religious? No… is he? He does seem to be bent all out of shape over the vicar shaming! My mouth is not connected to my brain peeps, it really isn’t, but it does need a bloody muzzle to control it!

‘Why do you care whether the Vicar is shamed or not? Are you a member of that congregation or something? What? You can’t take him seriously now because he likes to be spanked by the naughty Atheist woman who leads his flock astray?’ The sarcasm dripped from my tongue. I was on a roll.

He was suddenly furious and he rounded on me, ‘I care Gemma, because I believe he plays an important role in this community, people talk to him, they trust him, he guides them and he helps them. Your thoughtless actions today could derail the good that he can do!’

I cut him off, now I was angry too. ‘Hang on a minute, it was exactly because he is in that position of trust that he came about private confessional information from the Wilson’s about their spanking sessions with me! He used that information to get what he wanted! He is a creep and shouldn’t be in a position of trust! I refuse to apologise for outing him, the Wilson’s have a right to know he came and told me they had confessed to him! It’s supposed to be completely confidential isn’t it? Isn’t THAT how it’s supposed to work?’

Graham looked surprised and then nodded his head in agreement. ‘Okay I’ll give you that, and I will see to it that he doesn’t go unpunished for his flagrant disregard for his position,’ he said more calmly, ‘However, you were very naughty Gem, you took it upon yourself to embarrass the Wilson’s unnecessarily, you should have just ignored the three of them. You were in a supermarket! The most public of places! That blatant error in judgement needs addressing, even you can see that, surely?’ All delivered in that calm, measured, reasonable voice! Man he fucks me off sometimes!

That was when the mood changed, he was definitely building towards giving me a spanking, he always did this, works up to it, discusses everything completely first and then when the tension is unbearable, he changes tack and demands I assume the position because I need a spanking.
My bottom started tingling. Thankfully my pussy seemed to want to remain silent when Graham is around, it appeared to recognise the fact that he is gay so there is no point in waking up. To be honest, I’m not sure whether this is a good thing or a bad thing. It does provide a very nice distraction from the pain when being spanked! But I didn’t want a spanking today!

I know, I know, but honestly, I just wasn’t feeling it, even though my bottom was tingling in anticipation, I wasn’t. This was unfair, quite aside from the vicar, the Wilson’s had behaved very rudely towards me and let’s face it, neither of them was innocent in any of the spankings! They had approached me and presented me with impossible choices at the time. That was how this whole being spanked by other people thing had come about in the first place. If anything, the Wilson’s were the ones who should be being spanked by Graham, not me! I am mutinous in the face of Graham’s scolding.

Clearly, that was a mistake.

to be continued….

All photos courtesy of the internet

The Boy v The Teacher

THE GAME IS ON!

GAME ON!!

Two weeks since I had that discussion and threw down the challenge to The Boy’s sports ed. teacher. https://gemstrong63.com/2020/01/08/the-boy-and-disability-discrimination-at-school/

I provided the school with 5 basketball chairs and three brand new regulation basketballs so they could practise using the wheelchairs and bouncing the ball. Mr Ignorant thinks this is all the boy really does when playing wheelchair basketball. It’s not a proper sport is it? so it should be real easy for the teachers to master a simple push and bounce.

Saturday came around and I was at the school with our regional squad of under 15’s and their assistant coach who had very kindly agreed to attend. They were on the court working through their warm up. Ten kids in all, starting 5 and bench 5. They were all on court going through their paces.

The teachers arrived with their wheelchairs and Mr Ignorant had put himself in charge of his team. He barked orders to his team mates and they all went into a huddle to discuss tactics. For sports teachers, one would have thought they would have realised the importance of warm up. But hey, they were not my concern.

The spectators filled up benches in the viewing stands. The ball hall was full. I think the whole school had turned out to watch this grudge match.

Spectators turned up and filled the stands for the grudge match

The referees arrived and the score board was set up. I took my seat as the table official and had a representative from the teachers camp sat next to me so I could teach him how to score the game and fill in the score book. The game was ON.

The 15’s team captain went for the tip off, he tipped the ball and caught it and they were off, he left Mr Ignorant spinning aimlessly in the centre court looking for the ball, while the kid passed the ball out to the guard who passed in to the forward who took the shot, hit the back board on the sweet spot and scored! 2 – 0 to the kids.

TIP goes to the kids

The teachers caught the rebound and passed the ball out to the centre court player who missed it, our back court player marking him scooped the loose ball on his wheel and he was off down the court again, passed out to the guard, back into the boy and the shot was up as a teacher careened into the back of his chair. The whistle blew, foul called on player number 3 from teacher team, as the whistle blew, the basket landed, basket was good 2 points to the kids, 4-0. The boy is on the free throw line. He has two shots to come, he positions his chair, he takes a breath, he squares his shot, the ball is up and SWISH the ball is all net, no backboard required. 5-0 to the kids. Second shot to come. The boy positions, takes a breath, aims, shoots and hits the sweet spot on the back board. Ball does a victory roll around the rim and dives through the hole. 6-0 in just under 2 minutes of game time.

The ball is out on the end line, the teacher throws in, they get the ball and move down the court at 5 mph, the sneaky little kid guard, nips up along side the teacher and swats the ball from his hand and spins, catches the ball and heads off back down the court where there is no defence waiting to protect the teachers basket.

The teachers are sweating profusely by now, a meer 3 minutes into the game. They are struggling to push the chair, bounce the ball and keep it out of the hands of the opposition. They pass the ball, the kids intercept it and turn it around.

Fouls are being called against the teachers left, right and centre for 8 second violations, travelling violations (3 pushes of the chair no bounce), contact violations, the teachers are a mess. They are spinning round in circles, they have lost control of their chairs and have no idea who they should be marking because they can’t keep up with the kids.

The kids are constantly communicating with each other in a well practised and precise manner, they are marking their opposition player and they are not letting up the pressure at all. They apply a full court press at every opportunity and get the ball turned over to them so often it becomes embarrassing for the teachers.

The buzzer goes at the end of the first 10 minute quarter, the score is 22 – 0. The kids are taking it easy and pacing themselves.

I could give you complete blow by blow detailed shooting stats, (I still have them) I could give you foul calls against teachers, (I have them). But quite simply this is what happened.

The teachers were hammered by 5 kids, who swapped in and out with their bench players so that all players got a game and every player stayed fresh. They worked the game the way they always work the game, with precision, skill and team mentality.

The teachers fell to pieces within the first 8 minutes of the game. They couldn’t handle the wheelchairs, they pushed the wheels too low on the front of the wheel and leaned forward too far in the chair, this created a rocking motion and slowed them down. If they had observed the kids for even a second they would have seen them sit up straight, put their hand to the top rear of the wheel and pull down once using their bodies to direct the chair as it moved, they would bounce the ball with the other hand while their chair coasted at speed down the court. Two pushes one bounce.

It is a beautiful game. It is a sight to behold when players who train together constantly, play together like a well oiled machine.

The final whistle blew on the 4th quarter and the score was 78 – 2

The kids allowed the teachers to get a score on the board out of a sense of fair play.

The teachers did not use their bench players, they were still sat there fresh as daisies, the starting 5 remained on court the whole 40 minutes. Mr Ignorant was no long ignorant of the facts. Wheelchair basketball is not the soft option, it is a much more highly skilled game than people realised and he could not play it and could not compete at the kids level. He was less than a novice.

Never underestimate a disabled person’s ability. It will cost you greatly. They are more adept at finding a way of doing things than able bodied people will ever be. The world is designed with able bodied in mind, so the odds are already stacked against the disabled but they get by, they find a way, and in doing that they build up a steely reserve to achieve their goals. This is my Boy’s life, he has a steely determination to achieve the goals he has set himself. One ignorant teacher and a shrugging headmaster would not derail him from his plan.

The sky is the limit.

All photos are stock photos from the internet

The Boy and Disability Discrimination at school.

When The Boy took up wheelchair basketball I did wonder whether the shine would wane in time. It didn’t. He was utterly sucked into that world and it gave his life direction, meaning and achievable goals with real time results he could be proud of and build on.

By the time he turned 14 the Under 15’s regional Junior Squad had a number of major wins under their belt and they were flying high on the wings of their success.

His final year in the 15’s squad netted them yet another Gold medal at the Junior National Championships and it was an amazing match with a final whistle score of 48-43! That kind of score is nothing short of a demon of a game where both squads have played their hearts out and left everything they have on the court, and as far as everyone was concerned there were no losers that day.

However, I need to step back just a couple of years and talk about the one area of his life I have not covered in my posts, The Boy’s education. He attended mainstream school with classroom support and physical assistance for certain needs. This appeared to work quite well for the majority of the time during his early years at the school, but it became blatantly obvious that some of the teachers saw him as a hindrance to their teaching of the rest of the class of able bodied students. One such teacher was his Physical Education Teacher who I shall refer to as Mr Ignorant.

Mr Ignorant had decided that The Boy could not study Sport Science as one of his chosen subjects for his GCSE exam classes due to the fact that he did not do an extracurricular sport that was recognised by the exam board.

Now, the boy was 13 at the time, he was riding high on his Junior National Championship wins and was excelling in his chosen sport of wheelchair basketball at club level, I might add that Wheelchair basketball has it’s own governing body and is widely recognised by every sporting body in the country. It is played continuously at International level and is entered as a main sport in the Paralympics every four years.

I decided to head the burgeoning war cry off at the pass. I was tired of this. I was tired of constantly explaining to EVERY SINGLE ABLE BODIED PERSON in a position of authority over the boy’s health, welfare, education, mental and physical health and progress, that inclusion meant just that, INCLUDED. It did not mean that when the going got tough for the teacher, he could opt out of educating my son!

The conversation was held between three of us, myself, Mr Ignorant, and the Headmaster Mr Don’t blame me, the system is broken. We shall call him Mr Shrug!

Mr Shrug began the conversation by saying how proud the school was of the boy’s recent achievements in his chosen sport of wheelchair basketball. Mr Ignorant looked askance at Mr Shrug and I could see he had not wanted this statement made at all.

I saved them both some time and pointed out that as a school with currently only one disabled student on their books who was a National Champion, and no current National Champions in their able-bodied stock of students, one would have thought they would have been proud to assist the boy as far as they were able in his wish to capitalise on his growing knowledge of sport in general.

He wanted to learn about the body and how it functions through exercise, which muscle groups were in danger of injury through incorrect training practise and how to prevent long term damage by following good practise in mental, physical and dietary health. All of these things were part of the curriculum listed in the Sport Science course he wished to select as his chosen GCSE course. I personally couldn’t see the problem they were having with his placement. Every other student in his year, who had applied for that course had been selected, he was the only one who had been declined. I then asked why Mr Ignorant thought that the exam board would not recognise a nationally and internationally played disability sport? Why he didn’t consider it to be a recognisable extracurricular sport, and why he felt the boy was not good enough to take up the course?

His reply still blows my mind to this day.

Look, I know you think he’s amazing because he can push a wheelchair and bounce a ball at the same time, but it isn’t proper basketball is it? He can’t run, jump and pivot, he can’t shoot from a standing position into a 10 ft net, and the court isn’t as big as a standard basketball court. It’s the soft option so that the disabled fraternity can feel like they are playing the game.

he just bounces and pushes you know!

Fucking hell! My head melted. I genuinely saw red mist for the second time in my life and I don’t know how I stayed completely calm and composed and did not kill that ignorant, jumped up, stuffed shirt front on the spot.

Instead I said this. (I was so well behaved that day, I still pat myself on the back!)

I believe you need a lesson sir, so I shall educate you. Wheelchair basketball is the ONLY disability sport which currently runs an inclusive program so that able-bodied people can climb into a chair and play the game alongside their disabled peers. It is one of those rare occasions when a disabled person has the advantage over an able-bodied person.

Wheelchair basketball is played on a standard sized court, with regulation height baskets set at 10 ft. The game is a standard 40 minute game made up of four ten minute quarters. Fouls and time outs are as the able bodied regulation game. It is classed as a non-contact sport as is the able bodied game. Where in that description do you get the impression that this is the soft option?

His reply, well you would say that wouldn’t you?

YES I FUCKING WOULD! It’s the truth!

Mr Shrug feeling like he might have lost control of this meeting decided to step in at this point.

Mr Ignorant, were there any other reasons why the boy was not deemed suitable for your course?

Mr Ignorant smiled slyly and said, yes actually, he wouldn’t be able to take part in class exercise, I expect ALL of my students to perform star jumps, forward rolls, and running on the spot, I also expect them to take part in cross country running and track and field events throughout the course. It’s blatantly obvious that he can’t do that and before you say anything else Mrs S you must understand I did try to find a way for him to come onto the course, I even went on a two week disability awareness educational course myself to learn how I might include him wherever possible. I did this off my own back, and I know everything I need to know to be able to say he couldn’t do it. It’s impossible. I’m sure you will agree if you just step down of your high horse and see sense!

I rounded on him in true warrior mother mode! ‘You went on a two week disability awareness course and now you consider yourself an expert in the field? Well, that certainly tops my 13 years and counting of 24/7 disability awareness education! Perhaps we can simplify matters and clarify just what inclusion means Mr Ignorant.

When one is faced with a student with limited abilities, one must work to find a way that student can still learn from what every other student is doing, no he can’t do star jumps, if he ever achieves that I want video footage because it means a miracle has occurred and he is no longer suffering with a life long disability.

Find a different approach, get inventive, think outside the box. You chose to become an educator, I challenge you to stretch your mind and educate ALL of your students not just the elite few who are able bodied.

I also challenge you and your sports ed. staff to a game of wheelchair basketball. I shall provide the wheelchairs and an opposing team of 10 players who are all 15 or under. 5 bench players and 5 court players. You provide the same only you can have all adults. I suggest the venue be here at the school on the school’s own full sized basketball court complete with regulation height baskets. I shall provide two wheelchair basketball referees who are also able bodied to attend the game. I shall provide the scoring equipment and I will officiate as head table official which is my role in our club and at regional level. The game is to run for the standard 40 minutes and all regulation basketball rules apply. I will bring the wheelchairs tomorrow and you may keep them for two weeks in order to practise. I think it’s time you understand the game that my son excels at sir. The best way to do that is to take part.

Given that you are so clued up on wheelchair basketball, I can see no earthly reason for you to decline the challenge. After all, full grown adults playing against disabled kids under the age of 15 should be a breeze, it will also allow you to prove your point that they are not worthy of inclusion in able bodied sport.’

He accepted the challenge, his face was puce, his manner was aggressive, he was shouting at me for a good ten minutes about how I knew nothing at all about how sport worked and how he would show me that I was living in a fools paradise thinking that disabled kids could possibly beat physically fit and healthy men on a basketball court.

The date and time were set and I left the meeting. I provided the 5 chairs I had promised the following day. Two weeks from then and the game was ON.

Now, after only being involved in this beautiful game for just a few short years, I had learned how to recognise the able from the disabled just by the way they handle a wheelchair. A disabled person moves far and fast with the minimum amount of effort or push and can clear the length of a basketball court in less than 8 seconds working at their top speed of roughly 25 mph. Whereas an able-bodied person leans too far forward and pushes too low down on the wheels to gain either maximum speed or distance. They almost rock their way up a court and it takes a good 20 seconds for them to cover the same distance!

Those teachers were going to receive an education they would never forget.

To be continued…

All photos are courtesy of the Internet

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