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Spanking confessions

#NSFW 18+

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 further. 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 and remain the property of their original owners, unless otherwise stated. if I have used an image that is yours and you recognise it and wish for it to be removed, please contact me and I will be happy to remove it for you. No offence is intended.

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.

And then there are ‘The Boy’ posts. These tell the story of my disabled son’s Journey of Self Discovery too. My journey has been a lot easier than his. His Journey is a lot more interesting and fulfilling than mine and full of Euphoria and Heartache, amazing successes and abject failures but through it all he shines in a way that leaves me in awe. I was asked to tell his story by another blogger on WP and I gave in. I hope you enjoy travelling with him through his life from birth to 30 years of age. (Present day, it’s still on going!)

For myself, this is a journey about discovery of self beginning 10 years ago 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, sane and consensual way. Detailed discussions between both parties took place well in advance of any 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.

I hope you are enjoying our journey so far. I know we are…

All images courtesy of the internet and remain the property of the people who posted them on the net, I lay no claim to any of them except where otherwise stated.

Hello! I’m Back, well… kind of…

So, just in case any of you have been wondering where I’ve been for the last 5 weeks, wonder no more. I have been sick and hospitalised for 15 days and have been resting for the past three weeks.

Before you all have a panic attack and disinfect your screens Donald T style, please refrain, I didn’t have COVID-19 I had something a little less insidious and sneaky but no less dangerous apparently. A kidney infection that turned into pyelonephritis (one step away from sepsis, I’m told) and it was trying its damnedest to take me out of the picture.

It floored me. I was running temperatures of 40.6 when the doctor admitted me to hospital, and then those temps kept on coming for a good few days causing all sorts of secondary problems like breathlessness after a bad attack of the rigours (shakes). Put those two problems together and we have confusion because they are also two of the four main symptoms that every medical person is keenly watching for in case of CV.19 making an unwelcome appearance.

After a particularly bad attack of the rigours that rattled my teeth in my head to the point I thought I might lose a few, I uttered these fateful words. ‘Wow, that attack left me breathless…’

Oh man! LOCK DOWN!! I was whipped off the main ward and put into immediate isolation, I had a stick swab shoved down my throat so far I was gagging and then I was closed off from the rest of the ward for 3 days until the results came through to find out whether I had contracted CV-19! The nurses and domestic staff stripped every single item out of the main ward (including patients) and washed it down and sanitised it in case I may have touched it when passing to go to the bathroom! Then the deep cleaning team moved in and did it all again.
They shipped all of the other patients out and onto other wards and my ward then became a complete isolation unit for suspected CV-19 patients. Staff were PPE’d and when they came in to take my obs and stats and change my IV they literally sidled around the edge of the room and avoided coming anywhere near me until it was absolutely necessary, and in honesty, I completely understood it, I was in awe of their professionalism and speed of response to a suspected covid case! They were brilliant!

By that time I was on a boat load of antibiotics via IV to fight the infection and liquid paracetamol to control the raging temperatures and I was extremely trippy for the first 5 days of my hospitalisation. To start with I was on an antibiotic called Ciprofloxacin and man that made me trippy! I was having hallucinations and became utterly convinced the air mattress (for relieving skin pressure) was controlling my dreams and therefore my mind! Basically I thought I was being brainwashed by the bed! Go ME!!!

After patiently explaining my theory about the bed to the Consultant he decided they would need to put me on a different antibiotic, which actually was the best thing they could have done because then my stats began to stabilise and the pain in my kidney began to recede and all the horrid bloating caused by the infection and water retention began to disappear! I had ballooned up to a UK size 22 when I am usually a size 16! I was so tired just because of the sheer size of my stomach, I looked like a 9 months pregnant puffer fish minus the spikes!

When I started to feel a little better I struck up a conversation with two seagulls I named Charlie and Bill who sat on my isolation unit windowsill every day tapping the window with their beaks! Turned out Bill was actually a Belinda and Charlie was having a great time with her, although she looked less than impressed with his sexual prowess! I honestly began to think I would still  be in hospital for the nest building stage and eventual delivery of baby seagulls! 

One of the funniest things that happened (funny for me but not so funny for the poor nursing staff who had to deal with him) was when one of the other patients broke out of his isolation unit and ran around the main corridors of the ward, stark naked with his todger in his hand aiming his pee up the walls and all over the floor while shouting ‘I’M FREE! FREE TO PEEEEEE! WHEEEEEE!!!’ He then tried to open all the isolation unit doors, mine included and I slammed that door so hard he nearly became a Eunuch! Needless to say he was captured and re incarcerated in his ISO unit!

Apparently he was a psych patient who had started to show early signs of Covid and had been brought to ward 9 as a precautionary measure! It was shortly after this event that one of the domestics opened my door a scant 2 millimetres and stage whispered in a very strong eastern European accent, ‘you want lasagne or samich?’I was in creases laughing! I had to ask her three times to repeat her question because I wasn’t sure what I was hearing. In the end I settled for ‘samich’ because I thought it might be interesting to see what turned up! It transpired to be a plain old cheese and pickle sandwich but it’s journey to my room had been hilarious so I forgave it its humble stature and really enjoyed it!

About three hours after that my covid test results were confirmed as negative and they packed me up and shuffled me off to a safe, covid clear ward.

Once I was safely ensconced on Ward 8 the Consultant paid me a visit to discuss my progress. He freely admitted he was rather surprised that I had made it through the first 4 days and said by way of greeting, ‘you’re still alive then, well done you!’ I was a little surprised at his bedside manner at first until I realised he was actually shocked I had pulled through. Good thing no one told me how poorly I really was because I had no intention of getting off so I just kept on fighting it. 

I remained on IV antibiotics for 15 days in total and I think I might have tripped out for quite a lot of that time. Something I do know, especially during these very strange and tense times for humans everywhere, it is an unequivocal truth to say that our NHS staff are truly astoundingly brave and strong in the face of such adversity and uncertainty. They kept me alive, they kept me covid safe, they kept me fed, watered, medicated and they also entertained me with conversations whenever they could, hand held while I worried about the Boy and talked out my worst fears, and laughter when I began to regale them with the events of my previous ward experiences! All in all I had a 5 star service from 10 star people who are truly awe inspiring! And I came home fixed and well.A very happy ending indeed!

I’m kinda knackered though. I sleep a lot through the day, I sleep a lot through the night. Basically I am still sleeping… an awful lot. The consultant assures me this is a slow process, it will take time for me to get back to my old self (minus the infection of course) and he has rammed home the point that I need to take better care of myself, as one of the reasons I became so poorly was because I was mentally and physically exhausted and had nothing left to fight the infection with. Thankfully, we have some serious medication out there that could do the job for me.

A very painful Reminder

So, June stayed the whole weekend and took great pleasure in spanking me into complete submission, completely controlled my orgasms and only allowed me one just before she got ready to leave for home, but conversely spent the whole weekend demanding I give her as many orgasms as possible in return. I was actually relieved when the spanking had to stop because we were no longer alone, but the orgasm demands continued unabated, albeit silently, and the punishment if I didn’t get her there was being added up to be carried out the following weekend. Oh yes, June was on a roll. She had completely taken me over and she was loving every minute of my submission to her. By the time Sunday evening arrived I was absolutely exhausted, mentally and physically. To be fair, I had loved every single minute of my time with her. I have never experienced that level of submission before and it blew my mind! And just…Wow! That woman has so much stamina! By the time she left I was actually looking forward to some alone time and sleep!

Monday morning arrived and Graham texted me, ‘Gem, can you call round to see me if you have time please? xx’ The Boy was out at college all day and I had been contemplating sleeping my afternoon away. I texted Graham back, ‘Can it wait until tomorrow Gray? I’m absolutely exhausted hun, I was just thinking about going back to bed for a few hours. xx’

‘Are you ill? xx’ he asked

‘No darling, just tired! My friend June has been here all weekend and she kept me extremely busy! xx’

‘Oh yes? Busy how?’x He demanded.

‘None of your business! x’ I replied

‘Is that right… now that sounds like you broke some rules Gem. I am no longer asking if you could come round, I am telling you to come round immediately! We need a discussion!’ No xx on that last text meant I was in deep shit!

OH F*@K!! I had forgotten, I was supposed to be on a three day orgasm ban courtesy of Graham’s extra punishments on the certificate he handed me as I was leaving the other day! With everything that had happened with June, Gray had gone completely out of my head. I was in trouble. Deep trouble. There was nothing else for it, I would have to go around and hopefully appeal to his softer side and just explain everything that had happened with June had been a spur of the moment thing.

Okay, so yes, I was living in dreamland, my bottom was throbbing, my pussy was throbbing more and my head was completely fuzzy after being so submissive all weekend. It had been extremely difficult to shake that feeling off this morning and try to revert to my usual fighter brain. June had done a number on me. She was also coming back on Friday night for round two! I needed to get my head together before then!

Regardless, the idea of refusing to see Graham did not even cross my mind. Neither did the idea that he might decide on an immediate punishment. I genuinely thought he would give me a pass once I explained everything.

Yeah… right.

I just saw a pig fly past my window…

I quickly pulled on panties under my dress and slipped my feet into sandals and hurried round to Graham’s house. The front door was already open and I knocked, shouted hello and wandered in.

He appeared in the kitchen doorway, he was on the phone and he beckoned me to come through and sit at the breakfast bar. He placed a coffee in front of me and continued with his conversation. I looked around his lovely kitchen space and wondered where his cane was. It was usually hanging on a hook on the wall by the door but the hook was empty.

Finally Graham ended his call and shut his phone off. He smiled at me, and sat down facing me. ‘Sorry about that, but I had to take that call.’

‘No problem.’ I offered with a smile and raised my cup.

‘So shall we get down to it Gem? How many rules did you break this weekend with your friend June?’ He said it in such a conversational way, I was actually blindsided for a moment and let my guard down. I shrugged my shoulders and looked down at the floor.

‘Please don’t bother lying to me Gem, we both know I can see right through you darling. Come on, out with it.’ He was smiling, this was good, wasn’t it?

I coloured up, he was right of course, I am shit at lying, I can’t do it, I look guilty even when I haven’t done anything wrong and I knew it was pointless me trying to lie to him. he would cross examine me later and I would blow myself up. I might as well come clean now and take what was coming to me. My bottom was throbbing so much anyway today, I didn’t think it could feel any more pain than it was in.

I took a deep breath and launched into a full and detailed explanation of how June had sprung a visit on me, dropped a bombshell about Stuart, how in a drunken moment I played with her breasts and how that had led to her hauling me over her knee for the spanking of a lifetime. I then went on and gave him graphic details about the whole lesson in submission weekend with her and how I had only been allowed just one orgasm before she left. I ‘forgot’ to mention the one I had had over June’s knee when she had played with me during the spanking, I talked about the level of humiliation I had experienced with her and the levels of submission she had taken me to. I was also honest enough to admit that I had loved every second of it. I then told him she was coming back next weekend to do it all again.

Graham sat silently listening carefully to every word I said and he waited to speak until he was sure I was finished. I raised my cup and drank my coffee with apprehension running through my entire body making it taught as a tightrope.

‘So, I will start with an apology of my own,’ he said. ‘When I told you on Thursday that Stuart had met someone, I knew he had just gotten engaged to her. I didn’t want to drop that on you without any warning so I watered down the information and thought I could drop the engagement news in a few weeks. Obviously I didn’t reckon on someone else telling you. You were vulnerable and I put you there, so for my part in that I am sorry. Obviously, until she dropped that bombshell you were pacing your drinks, I know you when you’ve had a couple Gem, it doesn’t take long for your inhibitions to disappear so I completely understand how this whole weekend took the turn it did. You were drowning your sorrows, and in your case, drowning them in carnal relief. I can’t punish you for that. I feel like I caused it somehow.’ He paused and took a sip of his drink. I knew better than to think that was all there was to it. I was right.

‘What I am going to punish you for is not telling me about June before now, the fact that she wanted to spank you should have made its way back to me before she arrived on Friday. We have already agreed I will be undertaking your discipline from now on. Once again, you have been free and easy with who you allow to spank you. I find it disrespectful that you could not be bothered to ask for my approval first.’ Now he was beginning to sound cross.

I tried to speak then, to defend myself, to say I hadn’t agreed to him being my spanker, he had taken it upon himself to assume that role again. None of those words came out, he held his hand up and silenced me before I could utter them.

‘I am going to give you six with the cane over your dress and panties. I assume you have panties on today?’ Now he was being matter of fact with me, that never bode well for my bottom.

I nodded quickly.

‘I don’t want to see June’s handiwork overlaying mine which is why it will be over your dress. But, and you had better remember this Gemma because if you don’t it will end badly for your behind; you had better schedule June and myself a lot better. I will not take second place spanker position with you again. June will have to defer to me. I want a plump cream bottom each week when it comes to your discipline meeting with me. You will follow my rules before June’s and you will seek my express permission before you take a spanking from her or allow yourself sexual release because she said you could. If I have placed a ban on it, that overrides everything. Do I make myself clear?’

Now that tone of voice had me quaking in my panties! Damn, I was in big trouble here.

Then his words really sank in and the complicated ramifications of what he said hit me full on. F*@KING HELL! My head was about to explode with all this! I wanted desperately to tell him he couldn’t be my disciplinarian, I wanted to shout at him for not telling me the truth about Stuart in the first place, I wanted to rant and rave and throw things and scream at him that he didn’t own me and I would do as I damn well pleased.

I never said any of it. I just nodded my head and verbally agreed with every word he had said, completely submissive once again.

‘Lounge Gemma. Over the desk please and lets get those six out of the way shall we?’ He stood up and headed for the lounge, I reluctantly slid of the stool and followed him, I felt like I was in a fog, an automaton who had no control over themselves. Truth is, I didn’t. I had given it away to June and now to Graham.

I dutifully assumed the position over the desk and I heard him swish the cane through the air to test it. I jumped at the sound but didn’t move out of position.

I waited, and waited becoming more anxious by the second when finally the first stroke cut through the air with a whistle and then landed cutting deeply through the flimsy material of my dress and my panties. I yelped but held, ONE I shouted, the second came a moment later and landed across the back of my thighs, I cried out in shock at the instant burning sensation that exploded on my thighs. TWO I cried out.

I felt him step up close behind me, and I felt my dress slide up over my bottom to be laid in the dip of my waist, he peeled my panties down to my knees and I wanted to protest, he had said over my clothing?

Before I could say anything he spoke behind me. ‘She’s very good Gemma. She actually managed to continue the pinstripes from where I left off. Very neat job. I think you can give me her contact details before you leave here today. She and I will work quite well together I believe.’

My head popped! WTF?? Double teaming? AGAIN??

The third stroke when it came landed full across both cheeks and burned and bit deeply into my very sore bruised bottom and I cried out loudly, THREE I screamed quickly before the next one landed. Four landed across my sit spot and I jumped up howling and grabbing my thighs and danced on the spot. He gave me one second before he pushed me down and into position again, he flipped my dress up and brought the cane full across the centre of my cheeks, FOUR he said. I got it, I hadn’t counted and now I got it twice, FOUR I screeched. Five came swiftly across my sit spot again and I howled in pain as I screamed out FIVE. Six came diagonally to the other 5 and landed plumb across all of the cane welts. Gated again. SIX I wailed and stood up quickly, instantly rubbing my cheeks and thighs. Graham laughed at the mutinous expression on my face as I glared at him.

‘That wasn’t what we agreed Graham, you said it would be six over my dress and panties!’

He smiled benignly at me, ‘Well then, I guess we’re even. You didn’t keep to our agreement on Friday, Saturday and Sunday. I figured it gave me room for manoeuvre today.’ He smiled at me wickedly, and patted my behind.

‘Be a good girl Gem, it’s in your own best interests darling. Cover up and get going now, I’m going on a date this evening and I don’t want to rush getting ready.’ He left the room without another word, I pulled my panties up and made sure my dress wasn’t caught up anywhere, I scribbled down June’s email address and I got the hell out of dodge.

My head was spinning with everything that had just happened. My bottom and thighs were throbbing wildly, reminding me once again what a bloody idiot I can be!

I was back to two lively spankers/disciplinarians and my backside was on fire! What the hell had I just agreed to? What the hell was wrong with me anyway? One spanker is more than enough for any sane person. I cannot for the life of me understand why I didn’t speak up and say no to Graham.

I consoled myself with the idea that the chances were quite high he wouldn’t want to continue spanking me if he got in with this man he was seeing tonight.

I crossed my fingers and sent up a shout to the Universe to cut me some slack.

There’s that pig flying again…

The spanking bus is back in town and June is driving!

Seriously, I really do believe spankers are like buses, they are either all missing in action or they all arrive at the same time!

Spanking Bus is full of Spankers again!

I have gone through a 40 day spank free period with no hint of a spanker in sight! Graham spanked and caned me yesterday till I couldn’t sit down and could barely pull my jeans on over my very hot, sore bottom to get home, and he’s also insistent that this will now become a regular weekly occurrence because he’s back home full time. I don’t know whether to be happy or sad about this development! In the grand scheme of things, it’s good to have my spanker back on board, I do need the discipline, no doubt about it, but on the other hand, a spanking/caning from Graham is purely about punishment and discipline, to the point where at the end of the spanking, all sexual release is banned for a minimum of three days! Three days, no orgasms? I don’t think that’s fair, or necessary, or doable to be honest! Guess I will have to roll with the extra spankings for breaking that particular rule on a regular basis, spanking is ultra sexual for me it always has been!

Now, as if that wasn’t enough to be dealing with, June has just texted me. Remember June? The Alpha female ball breaker who was desperate for a spanking from me? Yeah, that one. Apparently her one and only spanking has given her an epiphany of sorts. She is now seriously into all things spanking and wants to return the favour. Apparently she has always wanted to get to grips with my bottom and spank it till its bruised and red and very hot and tender. She shared that information as if it was a golden opportunity for me? Jeez… these people who want to get to grips with my bottom…

I’ve created a monster…

She would like me to ‘volunteer’ to take a ‘good hard spanking’ from her. If I won’t volunteer she is sure she will find at least three transgressions that she believes will give her the necessary permission she requires to deliver a spanking as a punishment. She was quite firm in her assertion that she was more than up to the job as she had been practising on a young lady she met who sounds very much like she may be June’s new girlfriend. I thought June was straight, who knew? This could be more fun than I had imagined.

I’ve definitely created a monster…

I of course informed her of my very recent and very lively spanking from Graham and insisted I was in no fit state to take another one just yet, she pooh-poohed that idea and blithely said ‘nonsense! You could take a spanking from Graham today and I would still be coming over to give you another one. We need to keep that bottom as hot as possible Gem, I’ll be arriving in an hour. Bye xx’

Oh F*@K! have I ever created a monster!!

An hour later and my doorbell rang, I opened the door and there she stood, looking absolutely fabulous I might add, (She is yummy, I confess to a girl crush, happily not unrequited, ) I invited her in and we made our way to the lounge where I had laid out wine glasses, a couple of bottles of red and a few snacks etc. It wasn’t often I had the opportunity to have June here especially for a whole evening and from what she was saying, possibly an overnight stay, so I was making the most of it. Just in case anyone is wondering the Boy was staying at his friend’s house for the weekend which was another rarity and a new trial thing. Having June here would stop me from climbing the walls and checking my phone every five minutes to see if he had texted me.

As the evening progressed I noticed she wasn’t drinking very much at all, I decided I had better pace myself. I needed to keep my wits about me with June, she was definitely edging towards the spanking conversation with every other sentence.

I steered well away from it, if she wanted to bring it up then she could do the work. I was not biting, but, I confess I was very curious and getting more and more curious as she steered the spanking bus into its depot with a foray into tales about the woman she was now spanking on a regular basis.

‘Gem, you have no idea what you’ve done for me! Since you spanked me that first time I have finally come to terms with my sexuality and my spanking kink! I love all things women these days and I am having the time of my life spanking Stacey who is a friend with benefits, nothing serious of course, just the two of us getting together occasionally for a mutually beneficial evening of fun and games! I feel liberated!’ June was positively glowing with her new found sexuality and apparently, very healthy libido!

‘I’m really pleased for you Junie, I never had a clue you were into women. As for the spanking, I think that’s addictive actually!’ I grinned at her and lifted my wine glass to take a sip.

Then, she dropped the bomb. ‘Have you met Stuart’s fiance yet?’

It exploded in my head and my wine glass never made it to my mouth, I sat there staring at her openmouthed with shock. ‘Fiance?’ I squeaked.

‘Oh darling, you didn’t know, I’m so sorry.’ She shot across the room to the sofa and pulled me into a huge hug which I gratefully sank in to. ‘I knew he was dating someone,’ I mumbled, ‘Gray told me yesterday, but fiance? Damn that was fast!’

June pulled back from me a little and studied my face intently. ‘You have feelings for him still? she asked.

‘I have feelings, they are under control and not up for discussion.’ the words came out harshly, BANG! the door to my emotional state was instantly slammed shut and June recoiled slightly at the force of it. It didn’t force her to let me out of the hug though, if anything she came back for round two of giant hug scene and I all but disappeared into her magnificent breasts and got swallowed up whole. I have decided I really don’t have boundaries where my sexuality is concerned, sexy is sexy, hot is hot, doesn’t matter whether the person is male or female, if I connect with them, and they pull me in, I go in all the way. I understand Junie’s feelings of liberation. No limits. Wonderful opportunities just waiting to be experienced. No regrets.

We sat cuddled up together for a while. She told me all about bumping into Stuart and the girlfriend at an Awards ceremony, it was one I should have attended and had cried off and sent the secretary of the club in my absence. I was kind of glad I hadn’t gone now.

Apparently, the girlfriend wasted no time in flashing the huge diamond under June’s nose and announced they would be getting married at the end of September, but they were going to do the deed on a mediterranean cruise. June rambled on and on and on and I drank and drank, still with my face pressed perilously close to her wonderful breasts. In the end I blanked out June’s rambling, downed the last of my wine and proceeded to flick open her blouse buttons and release her breasts for closer inspection. I don’t know when June stopped talking, I do know when she joined in, that would have been around the time my fingers were circling her left nipple and after she had smacked my hand away and told me off for being naughty!

She then took control of the situation completely and literally pulled me bodily over her knees and began spanking me as she told me off for taking liberties with her breasts without her express permission. I was a little steamed on alcohol and I mumbled some kind of apology but obviously she wasn’t listening to me because the next thing I registered was a flurry of sharp spanks landing firmly on my bottom! I could feel the sting through the flimsy material of my dress which did nothing as protection went. The heat bloomed quickly because my bottom was already very tender from Gray’s spanking and caning yesterday! The second set of spanks landed and I wriggled a little. June pulled me higher up her thighs and began spanking me on alternate cheeks hard and fast, all the while remonstrating with me for taking such liberties with her. After roughly five minutes I felt my dress being slid up the back of my thighs, over my bottom and then tucked into the belt at my waist. As is my norm, I was not wearing panties and June immediately spanked both cheeks very hard.

‘You are very naughty Gemma, where are your panties?’ Smack, smack, smack, smack. My bottom was stinging now, my fuzzy brain was just beginning to register the growing heat in my cheeks and I began to groan a little more with each spank delivered. I didn’t answer her question immediately. That was a mistake, ‘Where – smack – are – smack – your – smack – panties?’ – Smack, smack, smack, smack!

Damn it, they really stung! ‘In the drawer upstairs, I don’t wear any when I’m in the house alone!’

‘But you aren’t alone Gemma! I am here, so now I am going to punish you properly for not wearing panties, and for not acknowledging my presence by putting a pair of panties on!’ June sounded furious!

My god! She went to town on my tender cheeks and thighs, the spanks came thick and fast, I howled, they bit into the already tender flesh and I yelped, I kicked my legs out and she pulled me more firmly to her and wrapped her leg over both of mine and it was like being trapped in a vice! I couldn’t move an inch! She spanked and spanked for what seemed like forever, my cheeks were on fire, my thighs were burning, my eyes were watering, I had bitten my lip rather than call her the biggest bitch in the world. I wriggled and moaned and finally the spanking stopped.

‘Stand up Gemma.’ She ordered brusquely. I stood up and went to rub my bottom while I scowled at her. ‘Don’t you dare Missy!’ she ordered me and pointed to my hands. ‘We are not done yet, go and get your jokari paddle and your cane and bring them to me immediately.’

Wow. What? I blinked at her in surprise, she was really into the strict Mistress thing and no mistake. I was actually beginning to feel really submissive at this point, I could feel those vibes oozing like liquid over my fighter brain and subduing my natural instinct to tell her to f*@k right off with her orders. Instead, I ran upstairs retrieved the paddle and my short whippy cane and came back down the stairs as quickly as my drunken state would allow. Apparently it wasn’t fast enough for Junie. She was waiting for me at the bottom of the staircase, arms folded across her magnificent breasts, which were still on show from my searching fingers earlier and my eyes rested on them for a second too long. She was instantly furious with me again.

She grabbed me by the arm and dragged me into the kitchen. She pulled out one of the kitchen bar stools and said ‘Bend over the seat, spread your legs and I want you gripping the bottom of the stool legs. If you let go it will be taken out on your bottom and thighs. Remember we have all evening and I have an amazing amount of stamina. I can spank for hours, especially now it’s your bottom I’m spanking. I have waited such a long time for this. I am really going to enjoy it! Now bend over!’

You know that monster I have been talking about? F*@king hell, never in my wildest did I imagine it could be this big and scary!!

I assumed the position and immediately felt humiliation flood me as the position fully exposed my very wet pussy. It also spread my butt cheeks so that they were taught. This was gonna hurt like blazes and I tensed up everywhere waiting for that first stroke. I didn’t know which she would do first, paddle or cane. Either way, my bottom was in for a roasting and it was already red hot and throbbing, and it was stinging like mad where Gray’s cane marks were still quite raised.

The first spank landed with such a thwack I howled and let go of the legs of the stool automatically reaching behind to grab my stinging rear. June grabbed my hand and smacked it hard with the paddle. If you move again I will tie your wrists to the legs of the stool! I muttered something under my breath that was less than polite and she heard me. Jeez! Junie unloaded her wrath on my ass after that and I was genuinely crying my eyes out and squealing and howling at the top of my voice, begging for her to stop, pleading with her to stop. Promising her I had learned my lesson, I was so sorry for taking liberties, I was so sorry for moving my hands, I was just F*@KING SORRY!! It was all to no avail as the jokari paddle landed again and again across my cheeks and thighs in flurries of heavy spanks, light spanks, slow deliberate hard spanks, everywhere copped it. My pussy lips were throbbing wildly as the tip of the paddle caught them again and again, despite the pain I was beginning to moan and groan and I could feel a huge orgasm building, Junie hadn’t said I couldn’t cum either so I let that puppy build and distract me from the continuing torture of my poor bottom and thighs.

Without a word she suddenly stopped spanking with the paddle. ‘Hold position Gemma, we are not done.’ I waited for the cane to land, it didn’t, her fingers began to stroke my heated, tender globes, she ran fingernails over the bruised skin and they created such crazy sensations inside me I could feel myself losing control, I was trying desperately hard not to push up against her hands but when her fingers slid along the wet crease of my throbbing centre and found my clit, I exploded. I jerked and bucked under the onslaught of her probing fingers and I can honestly say I have never experienced an orgasm like it. It was mind blowing!

June was not finished, she brought her fingers around to my mouth and made me suck them clean. Submission complete. I was entirely under her control and would fulfil her every whim and she knew it. She smiled a knowing smile and reached across the back of me to retrieve the cane from the table.

She held it in front of my face and crouched down so she was eye to eye with me and she spoke softly, almost lovingly. ‘If you are a very good girl and take your punishment well, I will love the throbbing into oblivion for you afterwards. If you beg for me to stop you will be sent to bed alone, along with an orgasm ban for a whole week. I know how you work lady, you are driven by your desires. I will be controlling those desires from now on. Do you agree to my instructions Gemma?’ I mutely nodded my agreement and Junie laughed. ‘Oh no darling, you will tell me exactly what it is you are agreeing to or we shall jump to the caning and no orgasms for a week.’

I was utterly humiliated as I verbally agreed to all of her demands, I hung my head down in shame, I could feel my face burning with embarrassment as I uttered every single word she wanted to hear. I could not have done anything else. I couldn’t even blame the alcohol for any of it either, I was completely sober now, a beast of a spanking will do that for you!

Finally satisfied that she had me completely under her control she stepped behind me and the first of 20 strokes landed across my destroyed cheeks. I screamed, she held nothing back, the second stroke whipped through the air and landed across my sit spot and pussy lips. I squealed louder than I have ever done before. By the time the final stroke landed I was beyond caring what happened I just wanted it to stop.

Finally, finally, finally, I cried out 20 as loud as I could and the cane landed on the table at the side of me. I remained in my position and sobbed and sobbed, I was absolutely sure she had taken the skin off my backside and thighs. They felt raw and burnt. The heat was searing across them and I desperately wanted to sooth them with cold cream.

Before I could finish the thought I felt Junie stand close to my bottom and then miraculously I felt that soothing cold cream as she worked it lovingly into my skin. She helped me up from the stool and guided me up the stairs to the bedroom.

She kept her part of the bargain and she was stunning…

Quick trip into the real world and #COVID-19

So, this is just my opinion, my rant and my fear.

As a lot of you will be aware, my son is very severely disabled so COVID-19 making it’s unexpected appearance on an unsuspecting world has brought with it a degree of stress and anxiety that I have never experienced before. I am genuinely terrified for my son’s life right now and we are on permanent lock down until the pandemic has run its course and been contained.

Obviously we still have to eat and wash and live our day to day lives just like everyone else is having to do, but I want to explain just how not being able to access our usual products is affecting the Boy.

He uses wet wipes on a daily basis to clean his stoma, clean the skin around the stoma, clean the tubes and attachments that are associated with his stoma equipment. Wet wipes are the best product for this because they are non-perfumed, are designed for sensitive skin and obviously are disposable. The simple fact is, no wet wipes and we are looking at skin irritations, infections and a whole host of other problems in the long term. Hygiene is everything, he uses disposable medical grade gloves on a daily basis when dealing with anything to do with his stoma. If he doesn’t he runs the risk of getting an infection. In most cases, people will tell us soap and water are just as effective as a wet wipe. That’s true, but how do you apply the soap and water? With a flannel? A face cloth? This material bruises the delicate stoma surface and makes it bleed profusely. It irritates the sensitive skin around the stoma site and makes it very sore and makes it bleed profusely. Quite frankly a flannel or face cloth is not practical or hygienic enough for the job at hand.

So, I am travelling from supermarket to supermarket, from shop to shop trying to buy two packs of wet wipes, not stockpiling, not hoarding, just two packets. 128 wet wipes in all. I can’t get any. Anywhere. AND I am putting myself and my son at risk of contracting the virus every second I waste outside mixing with people. I should be on lockdown and I can’t because we can’t get the products we desperately require.

Why do I only require 2 packs? Because we have run out of the medical grade wet wipes that are provided with the stoma equipment, those wet wipes are limited to three packs per month. He goes through a pack of 60 in a week. The stoma bags can leak, peel away, or develop a problem and need to be replaced. Sometimes we have to do 3 bag changes in one day. So, regardless of how careful we are with stock and try to reduce excess use and waste, sometimes we just do not have a choice. By the middle of next week we should have a further delivery of medical equipment and hopefully we will have 3 more medical grade packs of wet wipes to limp along with.

Why am I telling you all this? I’m telling you because people need to see just how devastating it is for a disabled person not to have the necessary equipment they need just to get through a normal day. Now add the COVID-19 threat to that stress and you have an inkling of how our stress levels have ramped up.

I can’t buy wet wipes, I can’t buy toilet roll, I can’t buy kitchen paper, I can’t buy soap. SOAP!! I can’t buy soap!! But and this is where I am going to rant my bloody head off, BUT… WHY are people only NOW buying every single bloody bar of soap available? WHY did those hoarding bastards, because trust me that’s what they are, why did they not have a standard supply of soap in their homes already? WTF were they using before the pandemic arrived? Do they not realise, even with prolific handwashing a bar of soap will last a minimum of TWO WHOLE MONTHS and that’s taking into account the world turning into frantic hand washers on a scale that OCD has never been able to produce!

WHY do people need 600 bars of bloody soap in their homes? They are never going to use them all in their entire life times! Spread the soap out with your neighbours, your elderly, your sick and at high risk, and your disabled people in your community! STOP BLOODY HOARDING! This is NOT an ‘I’M ALRIGHT JACK, SO SOD YOU’ scenario. We are all facing the same deadly threat!

Now, forgive me for pointing out the obvious here but TOILET PAPER is NEVER GONNA FUCKING SAVE YOU FROM COVID-19! SO JUST STOP HOARDING IT! We all need to wipe our arses for goodness sake! WHY do you need 600 toilet rolls?? Does it make you feel better to know you can wipe your arse from now until the end of fucking time? Good. Now share some out with your neighbours, your elderly, your sick and at high risk, and your disabled people in your community! STOP BLOODY HOARDING! This is NOT an ‘I’M ALRIGHT JACK, SO SOD YOU’ scenario. We are all facing the same deadly threat and we all need to wipe our arses!

PASTA comes from Italy, RICE comes from China. Personally you can have the lot of it, I won’t be touching that carbohydrate fat inducing stuff anyway. Fill yourselves up on all that stodge if you must but remember this, what you have stored in your cupboards that is racing towards it’s best by date and then going past its best by date, and never getting used, could be being EATEN by an elderly person who only has one filling meal a day. THEY need a high carb diet right now to keep them going. They don’t eat a lot. STOP BLOODY HOARDING! This is NOT an ‘I’M ALRIGHT JACK, SO SOD YOU’ scenario. We are all facing the same deadly threat! We all need to eat!

I could go on and on and on. The shelves in the supermarkets are empty because the selfish, inconsiderate and great unwashed empty headed idiots amongst us have decided they are more important than the rest of the world’s population. You are not. We are all made equal. I don’t care what your bank balance allows you to buy more of than I can, I care about making sure the needy and the most vulnerable people in my immediate family and local community have the supplies they need just to get through a day without worrying.

If we all just shopped as we required the same way we always have there would be enough to go around for everyone. No one would need to stockpile because there would be sufficient supplies to see us through.

Do you normally shop every day? NO? THEN WHY ARE YOU DOING IT NOW?!?

STOP IT!! Seriously just STOP IT NOW!!

Get some commonsense going people otherwise you will be the architects of your own demise.

That’s me rant over.

I am very afraid for my son and his continuing ability to continue with his life. What’s your greatest fear today? How much toilet roll you can get through? FFS grow a pair and do the right thing. We need the 40’s Wartime mentality right now. All pull together for the greater good.

Graham’s Back and so is his Cane (part 2)

So, after shocking the living daylights out of both myself and Graham by agreeing to this spanking and caning, I now found myself firmly held over Graham’s knee. My jeans and panties had been arbitrarily disposed of and were languishing in a heap on the floor by the side of the chair. My bottom tingled in anticipation as I waited, breath held, for the first of the 100 spanks Graham was going to deliver to my very pristine, creamy bottom.

He was taking his time about it, he ran his hands over the curve of each cheek and down along my thighs, then returned his attention to the sweet spot at the bottom of the curve, running his nails along that very sensitive skin until I was squirming on his lap. this was new, he never usually did the stroking thing at all. It set off all kinds of chain reactions inside me though, fabulous feelings I hadn’t felt in a very long while. I was content to lie there squirming a little and just enjoying the hell out of those sensations as they raised goosebumps over my sensitive flesh. My pussy was twitching, regardless of how many times I instructed it to go back to sleep. Spanking turns me on, plain and simple, pussy was always going to get in on the act!

The first spank landed and it was a shock. I yelped and jumped at the suddenness of it. Before I could process the sting, the next spank landed in the same spot, then another then another then another and oh my god my right cheek was quite suddenly on fire! I howled when he spanked my left thigh equally as hard as he had my right cheek and my hand flew behind me in a knee jerk reaction to the horrible sting that had set up in my thigh. Graham sighed and grabbed my hand and held it firmly in place in the small of my back and then he set to work evening up the spanks to the left cheek and right thigh until I was HOWLING with pain, the hot sharp sensations were exploding all over my bottom and thighs and the painful throbbing was beginning to make itself known. I squirmed and I wriggled and I tried to free my arm, all to no avail as those spanks continued unabated for what felt like an hour! Reality, it was roughly ten minutes, and in my opinion it was definitely way more than the 100 stated on the certificate.

I squealed when Graham swapped hands and began the spanking all over again! ‘It said 100 spanks!’ I squawked!

‘Well, I’m not counting Gemma, so you had better be. I’m just making sure I cover this whole beautiful creamy area and turn it all dark red for you! This is how your bottom should have looked for me when you first agreed to me spanking you, do you remember? I asked you to let your bruising subside so that your bottom was creamy and clear for me? You didn’t though. You let Stuart spank you before that happened and I have always been slightly disappointed that I could not have that blank canvas to work on. I’m making the most of the opportunity I’ve been presented with.’

All of this was said while he spanked and spanked and spanked and spanked until I was sobbing, howling, squealing, yelping, swearing profusely, which brought about a very hard volley of spanks to my very tender inner thighs, and he laughed when I pleaded and begged for it to stop and he continued for a further 10 minutes when I called him the meanest bastard on the planet. And my bottom burned and my thighs ached and burned and my face was tear stained and I was dry sobbing now. Why did I let him spank me?

‘Because you love the aftereffects! The insidious thought snaked through my pain fogged brain, the instant that thought hit, pussy began to throb in time to the throbbing that felt like a tight band across my cheeks and thighs and I knew why I was here, in this position, allowing this spanking to happen. I couldn’t get these intense feelings any other way and I craved them.

Quite abruptly, I found myself on my feet but before I had time to register that fact, I was being bent over the high arm of the leather sofa by Graham.

‘Hold the position Gem, do not move an inch, if you do I will double the caning.’ With that said he disappeared for a minute. I heard his feet on the hardwood floor of the hall leading to the kitchen and I knew he was retrieving his favourite cane. Every fibre of my being tightened up with fearful anticipation of what was to come. It had been an exceptionally long time since I had felt a cane across my bottom. My only saving grace was my bottom was on fire right now and the deep throb was assisting in almost numbing everywhere he had spanked.

But this is Graham caning me, not some bloke off the internet who didn’t really have a clue. Not Stuart who loved to paddle and spank, not Mr Wilson who loved to strap or Mrs Wilson who loved the hairbrush. Graham was happiest with a cane in his hand a willing bottom waiting for the first stroke.

The first stroke when it came scorched my bottom and I screamed with the pain. I never even heard him come back in the room!

ONE! I shouted.

Graham laughed out loud, ‘No it isn’t darling, I was just testing the cane. This is One!’

Oh F*@K! The second stroke landed across my cheeks barely millimetres from where the first stroke had landed, my backside erupted with pain! I squealed and shouted ONE! again.

A moment passed, I waited, I hated this wait, this was Graham’s thing, he loved to wait until I was almost dancing with fear before he would strike again.

The third stroke landed and I screamed and shot upright! OMG!! That … just… OMG!! TWO!!

Number three landed as I finished shouting two, number four almost lifted me off my feet and I grabbed the cushion and bit down hard to keep from swearing at him, number 5 and 6 were delivered in quick succession and I felt the tears soaking my face as the heat from them burned into my tender skin. Number 7 took it’s time landing but when it did it went straight across the top of my thighs and sat snugly inside the sit spot. I have no words to describe the instant pain explosion that happened. I was almost done, I waited for the final stroke, I braced myself, I tried not to focus on the throbbing pain across my buttocks and thighs and I took a deep breath. As I let that breath out, the eighth and final stroke of that horrid cane landed diagonally to every other stroke. The bastard had gated my ass!

EIGHT!!!! I screamed and jumped up before he could take another shot at my exposed rear. I danced on the spot for a few minutes, I didn’t dare touch my bottom, it was too sore, I didn’t know how I was going to bear wearing my jeans to get back home either. Graham watched me and grinned at my discomfort.

‘Do you know, I think I enjoyed that more because it was such an unexpected surprise Gem. I think we need to do this more often darling, you know… spur of the moment?’

LIKE HELL WE WILL ….

All images courtesy of the Internet

Graham’s back and so is his Cane (Part 1)

You know, the last time Graham gave me a caning the aftereffects lasted almost a week! They also dovetailed beautifully in with that spanking from Stuart some 4 days later. https://gemstrong63.com/2020/01/14/stuarts-in-town-and-he-brought-a-new-paddle/ After his last spanking Graham categorically declared he was leaving my ‘spanking team’ and Stuart would now have to fly solo (which he didn’t appear to have a problem with anyway). So why did Graham stop spanking me I hear you ask?

Well, Graham is more your Caning kind of guy and he goes a little bit all out to get my bottom pinstriped! I have to tell you, while I hate the caning itself, I love the aftereffects of it. Everytime I sat down, I could feel the burning and throbbing only a sound caning can deliver, but there was also the heat and the mmm, mmm, mmm effect it leaves you with. Quite indescribably delicious!

Anyway, the reason he stopped was because he was scared of really hurting me, and to be fair, at the time so was I. Graham is a pusher of limits and if I thought I could take 20 strokes of the cane, he would push for 30 or 40. He always said he felt like I was trying to manipulate my punishments to suit me not the crime.

Well hell people, he was absolutely bang on with that assessment! Why on earth would I ask for 30 if I could get away with 20? I might deserve 30, and I probably did most of the time but, if a straight 20 is on the cards I’m takin’ it!

Regardless, the last time he caned me,https://gemstrong63.com/2020/01/10/graham-and-the-cane-part-2/ he went somewhat overboard and I knew he was desperately unhappy with himself for delivering what he considered to be too heavy a punishment, even for me. That’s really saying something, he has always been of the opinion I should be soundly spanked and caned on a daily basis! Quite frankly, if I was unlucky enough to live with Graham I doubt I would have time to write about my spanking experiences, I would be too busy permanently assuming the position for a caning!

So all that said, imagine my surprise when I received an invite to Graham’s house for coffee and a catch up, a check in of sorts he said. Find out what I have been up to while he’s been away. He said. (He works away from home a lot these days). It all sounded quite innocent and just a ‘friends catching up’ kind of invite so I threw some panties on, (better safe than sorry, Graham may be gay and not in the slightest bit interested in me sexually but he has his rules and me wearing panties at all times is definitely one of them. I am taking no chances and so out came the big girl panties!) I changed my shoes to practical boring flats, (another rule, I may have a list somewhere) pulled on my jeans and sweatshirt and toddled off to Graham’s house which is down the cobbled lane at the side of my house.
I rang the bell and waited and within seconds there he was, all tanned and buff looking, sporting the biggest welcoming smile I have ever received and damn it he is absolutely beautiful and just a sight to behold! In a world where every man I meet over 40 seems to look like my ex-husband, (bald, no problem with bald, it can be sexy, it doesn’t go well with the rest of the description, overweight, sporting a greying goatee, gold frame glasses, and denim on denim, oh and narcissistic to boot!) Graham in his black slacks and pristine white shirt is a breath of fresh air and a salve to my tired eyes. Give me a man who can rock a pair of black slacks and a white open neck shirt any day of the week! He can be bald, I’m all good with that, but denim on denim? Or worse, biker leathers. Meh. Why? Just why?

‘Hello my favourite lady, I’ve missed you!’ He even greets me better than most men! I confess, I have a pointless crush on the man and am completely happy to continue to worship his loveliness from afar and have it remain entirely unrequited!

I step in to his house and he envelops me in a great big bear hug and everything feels wonderfully familiar and safe and I relax and smile my biggest ‘hello old friend’ smile and we wander to the kitchen for a coffee and that chat.

I had a surreal moment when I saw Graham’s favourite cane hanging on the wall, and I almost bolted for the door. I did not want an unexpected caning, especially from him! My bottom had been in a spank free zone for quite some time now, Stuart being the last one to be anywhere near it. He’s a hard act to follow so I haven’t really been trying to find anyone else. Even using AnimeOTK as a tool is nowhere near as effective as a sound spanking from Stuart. Graham made no mention of the cane so I decided to relax and just roll with the conversation and see what transpired. Besides, I really had missed his company of late and I wanted this catch up!

He placed my coffee in front of me and sat down on the other side of the counter with his own drink. He was very relaxed and he brought me up to speed with his work life, his lack of love life, his family and all things Graham. I did likewise and we spent a lovely hour or so just shooting the breeze, to the point where I had all but forgotten about the cane.

Then he dropped the bombshell. ‘I have to tell you something sweetie, and I don’t know how you’re going to take it so brace yourself.’ He sounded so very serious I began to feel panic welling up inside me.

‘That sounds very serious Gray! Are you ill?’ The panic was evident in my voice and must have shown on my face too because he rushed around the counter to give me a hug and reassure me.

‘It’s nothing like that darling, I’m 100% fit and healthy, it isn’t even about me.’ He squeezed me tightly and then sat at the side of me. I watched him warily and waited.

‘I had an email this morning from Stuart. He’s been seeing this woman and he thinks it might be serious and he said he can’t come over anymore because he needs to see where this relationship can go, if he’s around you he knows he is going to get his emotions in a knot and the new girlfriend is very aware of your checkered relationship with him and wants him to stop seeing you completely anyway. He’s asked me to tell you, because he doesn’t know how to tell you himself.’ He took a deep breath and waited for my reaction.

Uh huh, my reaction was a lot less than either man was expecting. I had no problem with Stuart seeing someone else, no problem at all. I didn’t want a relationship with him, so it would have been hypocritical at best for me to have a meltdown about the news he had moved on. Did it hurt to think of him with another woman? Hell yes it did, but I only had myself to blame for that. It wasn’t like he hadn’t given me every opportunity to take him off the shelf for myself. What hurt more was the idea I had lost my long time good friend because of his jealous girlfriend. That really hurt. Regardless it was time to suck it up and act like a big girl.

‘I wish him well, it’s a shame he didn’t feel he could tell me himself, but you can tell him from me, I am pleased for him and I hope he finds what he’s looking for with her.’ I smiled at Graham and kept all of my unruly emotions tightly packed down inside me, I could deal with it all later when I was alone and could process the information properly. I was genuinely pleased for Stuart he desperately wanted to be part of a couple and I’m just not couple material.

Now it was Graham’s turn to watch me warily. I think he thought we were in the calm before the storm and he was waiting for … something, I suppose. Apparently the only thing he wasn’t expecting was the mild reaction he had received to his news!

‘Well, you took that better than I expected!’ He blew the words out on a sigh of relief and I grinned at him.

‘Poor Graham, did you really think I was going to sob and weep and wail all over you? My goodness, you must have been dreading telling me!’ I pasted that smile all over my face and reached for my cooling coffee. Graham watched me for a little longer and then abruptly changed the subject.

So, what are you doing about discipline these days? Or rather, who is seeing to your discipline? He grinned at the cagey look that appeared on my face as I tried to avoid giving away too much information. ‘Oh poor Gem, don’t ever take up poker darling, you have the most expressive face ever!’

I shrugged my shoulders and continued to drink my coffee, sod him, he could wait for that answer. I was in no hurry to confess I was no longer being spanked, by either Stuart, internet, A.N.Other or myself. I had stopped completely and I was currently spankless for 40 days and counting. I was happy for it to remain that way for the time being too.

Graham laughed out loud at my stalling tactics, ‘Gem honey, Stuart already told me he hasn’t seen you in roughly 6 weeks. I know all about the Jokari paddle, sounds like a fun little paddle, he assures me it delivers a fine spanking…’

‘There’s nothing little or fun about that paddle, it damn well stings like crazy!’ I blurted out, a little irritated that Stuart still appeared to be reporting to Graham each and every time he spanked me.

‘Did Stuart give you ALL the details of our spanking sessions Gray, or just the actual spanking details?’ Okay, so I was narky now, and I was being sarcastic with the wrong man but hey he started it!

Graham jolted me out of my silence with a sharp tone. ‘Gemma, I asked you a question?’

I put my mug down on the counter and took a deep breath before launching into an uptodate broad precis of my ongoing spankless situation.

Graham raised an eyebrow at the AnimeOTK program information and asked how it worked so I turned his laptop around and download the little program for him. He was fascinated with it. This is what he came up with.

~Random Punishment Selector~

Punishment Certificate
This certificate dictates that Gemma, for the reason of: Maintenance Spanking will receive the following punishment

Two sets of spankings to be carried out immediately.
Set One: 100 spanks with a hand and Gemma over the knee
Set Two: 8 strokes of the cane and Gemma bending over.
These spankings will be carried out with Gemma’s bottom bare.

Signed: Graham
REALLY????

Oh f*@k! Note to self, never give a spanker a new toy to play with when it concerns spanking! This meeting had taken a turn around an unexpected corner and I for one was none too happy about it.

Graham looked up from the screen and grinned at me, ‘so, it says here immediately Gem, far be it from me to argue with the program! Why don’t we adjourn to the lounge?’

‘Seriously Gray? You think you can just waltz back in to my life and think you can start disciplining me again? You quit remember? I don’t want a spanking, I definitely don’t want a caning and I’m not going to just blithely go along with you just because you’ve changed your mind!’ Damn! That sounded really confident and forceful didn’t it! Go me!

It didn’t make one iota of difference to Graham who just laughed at my outrage and pointed out a very obvious flaw in my thinking. I had downloaded the Animeotk program for him. As far as he was concerned this was me telling him I was open and up for a spanking! I had introduced him to it and now I could reap the benefits! Personally, I’m not sure a sound spanking and 8 with the cane constitutes reaping the benefits!

I sat and glared mutinously at him while I finished my coffee. As I sat there, my bottom started tingling, the more I thought about the spanking, the more fidgety I became! My bloody body is my own worst enemy people! My brain started getting happy endorphines oozing themselves all over my good sense and before I knew what the hell I was playing at, I got down from my stool and headed towards the lounge, saying, ‘well come on then, if were going to do this, we may as well get on with it!’

I don’t know who was more shocked him or me! I was actually agreeing to taking a spanking from the hardest spanker I have met to date! I must be out of my tiny little mind!

to be continued….

June requested a spanking!

How could I refuse?

Over the years, several different women have passed through my life, women I know well enough to invite around for a meal and a no holds barred chat. Invariably the conversation always gets around to sex, kinks, and all things orgasmic in nature. We tell each other everything.

I can’t tell you how many times a friend has squealed in delight when I say I either self spank or have just had a spanking or anything spank related that comes into the conversation. 

One fine example was a dear friend who I shall refer to as June, she was somebody I had met through my volunteer work with the sport at regional level. She was a high-ranking official in the game, and she was adorable. We hit it off straight away and became firm friends in no time at all.

Anyway, as was the norm, we were both in attendance at a full weekend sporting event and she and I were finally getting a moment to let our hair down and relax with a drink and the long awaited catch up chat we had been promising ourselves all weekend.

The conversation started as it always does, we discussed the sport, the people in our lives, how happy we were, how sad, angry, fed up, over sexed, under sexed, we discussed everything.

I purposely stayed away from discussing spanking because once the subject is in the open it dominates from there on in. People are fascinated with it, some are shocked, but others are curious, June was very curious. In the end it wasn’t me who raised the spanking conversation it was June! She was very coy at first about bringing it up, but she reminded me that we had discussed my spankings on a few occasions in the past and I had always hung back from giving out more detail. June was more than just curious; she was pushing for information and it became obvious to me that she was in the early stages of exploring a kink of her own. I smiled my encouragement at her to continue with her questions and said, ‘You can ask me anything you want, if I can, I will describe it for you, but Junie, the only real way to know anything is to try it for yourself!’

‘I want to know what you feel like when you’re told you’re going to get a spanking!’ she blurted out with a red face. Once she got over the initial embarrassment of asking the really personal stuff she started with a barrage of questions I answered as honestly and as openly as I could, I did not leave out the very sexy details either! She was positively squirming on her seat; she was very aroused by what she was hearing and I knew she had a vivid enough imagination that she was visualising everything!

I took a sip of my drink and I waited to see what she would say next. ‘I don’t know anyone who would or could spank me and I want to know what it feels like to be put over your knee… she stopped speaking and her hand flew to her mouth. Her face flushed with embarrassment at what she had said. Freudian slip perhaps?

I smiled at her, ‘Go on?’ I said quietly. ‘I want you to ask me properly June.’

Now please bear in mind, this woman could reduce grown men to tears in a boardroom environment and had in fact got a severe reputation as a ballbreaker bar none amongst the sporting fraternity. ‘I want you to spank me Gemma! The words tumbled from her in a rush quickly followed by ‘very hard please!’ Having her asking me for a spanking was a huge turn on. The idea of this powerful woman submitting to me and taking a spanking from me? Well… who was I to refuse such an offer?

I immediately went into Spanker mode with her and insisted on a detailed explanation of her transgressions. She coloured up beautifully as she told me about her obsession with masturbating while imagining I was spanking her bare bottom over my knee, she then went on to describe how I stroked and petted her between spanks and how turned on she became by the mere thought of any of it actually happening. She admitted she had experienced some rather superb orgasms on the strength of her fantasies and the whole thing had got her very confused about everything from her need to be spanked to her questioning her sexuality! Her confusion lay in the fact that she wasn’t into women sexually at all and yet here she was imagining all sorts of erotic scenarios with a woman!

Now generally I am not into women either, although I have on the rare occasion ‘taken an interest’ if they attract my attention enough. She was one of those women and I guess I just don’t have boundaries.

I told her we should go back to her room in the hotel as there were some rather important issues to discuss and some issues that obviously needed to be dealt with appropriately!

She very meekly said, ‘Yes Miss.’ and led me back to her room.

I love a woman who is prepared for any eventuality! As we entered her room I noticed that she had a rather beautiful wooden backed hairbrush, a big flat round one, she also had a very nice leather paddle too and a thin short cane! All the items were laid out on the end of the bed in a very pretty row! Somebody had either been practising or they were ever hopeful of a fantasy coming true!

I sat down on the desk chair facing the bed and I looked at them and then at June’s face. She was crimson with embarrassment! Caught red handed, or red bottomed in her case. She immediately confessed that she had been trying out a spot of self spanking to see if she could take a real spanking. I told her there was a huge difference between the two and she would be able to judge objectively by the end of the evening because she would have definitive comparisons she could make. We then had the very necessary talk about safe, sane, consensual spanking and what it entailed. She had her safe word and we discussed at length her boundaries and mine also until we were both comfortable with what was to come. As soon as she fully understood and agreed with everything I wasted no time in getting on with the task at hand!

I instructed her to stand with her back to me and told her to pull up her skirt and pull down her panties, I wanted to see if she had a rose bottom or a red one.  She was very hesitant to comply at first, but I insisted if she didn’t then I would, and I sternly ordered her to bend over the side of the bed and hold herself up with her hands and spread her legs. I stepped up behind her and lifted the hem of her skirt slowly, I brushed the material against her bottom and thighs as I pushed it slowly up and over her full bottom and hips. I tucked the hem into the waistband of her skirt. Her panties were no barrier at all as she had chosen to wear a thong. To my delight the tell-tale signs of a recent spanking were still evident on her luscious round globes! I could see the marks the small cane had left, crisscrossed as they were rather than pinstriped as I would prefer.

I let my fingers trace the faint marks and watched, fascinated as goose bumps appeared in a flurry across her lovely plump cheeks. I heard her take a deep breath and I stroked her bottom a little more to see how she would react. She wriggled and a tiny moan escaped her lips.

‘How did the little cane feel when it connected with your lovely bottom Junie?’ I asked as I continued to trace each line with my fingers. She mumbled something in response, I couldn’t hear her, so I brought my hand down sharply on her left cheek. She yelped and made to move, I stayed her with a stern look. I returned my attention back to her bottom and I watched as a beautiful bright red hand mark appeared on that luscious cream surface and I smiled happily. I was going to enjoy this! ‘Speak up Junie, I can’t hear you. How did the cane feel? Did you like it when it whipped against your skin?’

‘Yes Miss! It stung really sharply, but it did feel good afterwards!’ She was careful to clearly enunciate every word this time.

‘Very good Junie! See how easy that was? Now, tell me, how often do you masturbate with me spanking you as your fantasy?’ I asked quietly.

June turned her head to look at me beseechingly. She was crimson with embarrassment and I knew she was struggling with the verbal admissions. I knew this because it was something I struggled deeply with myself. Having to verbally admit to something so private and personal was very difficult indeed! It was humiliating to expose yourself that way. Nevertheless, I insisted with a flurry of sharp spanks to both her cheeks.

She yelped out quickly ‘about three or four times a week Miss.’

So not a one-off thing every now and then which was how she had told it earlier.

I shook my head in mock dismay at her admission. Inside, I was hugely turned on by the fact that I was a constant fantasy that would give her a guaranteed orgasm! I leaned across her and retrieved the wooden hairbrush and the small cane. I’m not a fan of leather paddles, but I suddenly remembered how Stuart had made me hold the Jokari paddle between my teeth and I picked up the leather paddle with the other two implements. It could play its own part!

I walked over to the high-backed desk chair and sat down. June was watching my every move over her shoulder. Her face had paled a little when she saw me line up the implements on the desk at my side.

I instructed her to come and assume the position over my knee for her spanking.

She is quite tall, probably about 5 ft 7″ and I am just over 5ft. so once she was over my knee both her feet and hands were touching the floor. I liked this it meant she wouldn’t be putting her hands in the way of her bottom when the spanking started. She needed them to keep her balance.

I remonstrated with her quite sternly for a full five minutes about her using me without my permission as a masturbation tool! I also remonstrated with her about her reluctance to lift her skirt when I had requested it, I had begun the hand spanking and was keeping time with my speech. Each lovely round globe was turning a cherry red colour in time with my words, if I spoke fast, I spanked fast, alternating each cheek, then her thighs got my attention and I started with a quick flurry of sharp flat hand spanks that sounded quite loud in the hotel bedroom. I continued spanking for a good 5 minutes until my hands were stinging and she was wailing that she had made a mistake and she didn’t really want a spanking after all. (she had her safe word of elephant and she hadn’t used it). I laughed at her feeble attempts to get out of the spanking and told her we hadn’t even started yet. I instructed her to stand up and keep her skirt tucked up at the back and go and stand in the corner for 5 minutes without touching her bottom. 

She genuinely thought it was over you know. She got such a shock when I stepped up behind her and stroked her cheeks to inspect the heat, I instructed her to open her legs and I smacked her inner thighs a little to brighten them up with some pink to match the back of her thighs. She wailed and Ow’d a lot. So noisy! I retrieved the leather paddle from the desk and brought it over to her. I held it in front of her mouth. ‘Open up Junie, hold this between your teeth and do not let it fall. If you do, the entire spanking tonight will be repeated as a second punishment. Do I make myself clear?’ She opened her mouth and bit down on the leather paddle and nodded her compliance and understanding. Her eyes were huge in her face!

I brought her back over to the bed and I sat in the middle of it with my back against the headboard. She was so tall it would have been a struggle to keep her on my knee sat on a chair. This way, she was still over my knees, but my legs were stretched out and she had nowhere to go. I peeled her thong down to below her cheeks and she made a grab for it, I spanked her hard with the hairbrush on both cheeks for a minute until she removed her hands. I made her wriggle out of the thong and hand it to me. I placed it on the pillow at the side of me and I returned my attention to her bottom. I stroked her twin red globes then petted and ran my fingers very lightly over her wet pussy lips. I patted them gently and slipped my fingers between the folds and covered them in her wetness. I smoothed her juices over her cheeks, she was very, very wet. She was mortified when she felt my fingers stroking her pussy and she dropped her head down in shame. It didn’t stop her from pushing her pussy onto my lightly probing fingers and it didn’t stop her groaning either!

I played on that, and as she lifted her bottom higher to reach my fingers I brought the hairbrush down for the first of many hard smacks on each cheek 5 spanks at a time for each one, 3 spanks a time for the back of each thigh and 2 spanks a time for her inner thighs. She was sobbing and tears were streaming down her mascara stained face.  I paused the spanking and reached for the bottle of water at the side of the bed, I poured a little on to her bottom, down between her legs, and then soaked the back of the hairbrush with some. I continued to spank and now I picked up the pace, alternate spankings to each cheek very hard, very fast and for a very long time. That hairbrush gripped her bottom tightly with each spank before it let go ready for the next one. She howled and squealed and squirmed and yelped but I continued unabated for roughly 15 minutes. She had specified she had wanted a hard spanking, and she was going to get one! She was yowling around the leather paddle which was still firmly in place in her mouth but was doing next to nothing to hide her distressed wails of pain. I smiled widely at her mounting discomfort and continued to spank all her tender plump areas until they were positively glowing!

Then as is my want, I stopped the spanking and began to explore her bottom and pussy with my fingers again, dipping them in and circling her clit, pulling them out and wiping her wetness over her bottom cheeks she moaned deeply and thrust her bottom up to my fingers as I continued to stroke her intimately and she bucked and groaned and pushed up higher so that I had better access. She was so close to an orgasm I felt quite mean when I suddenly stopped playing with her and then picked up the hairbrush for another 5 minute hard spanking. I stopped again and stroked and petted for a few minutes until she was so ready to orgasm it felt like a crime to stop, but stop I did and I lifted the very short OTK cane bringing it down swiftly and surely six times across both of her very red and sore cheeks. She had lovely pinstripes all in a row down her bottom. Very pretty! She was howling, and yelping and sobbing uncontrollably by the time I had delivered the 6th stroke.

I laid the cane down and tapped her on her shoulder.

‘Come on Junie, up you come.’ I spoke softly to her, ‘Come and have a cuddle love, you did so very well for your first real spanking. It’s all over now, lets have a little cuddle and I’ll make you feel better, I promise’

She scooted off my knee and curled herself into my arms as I held her and stroked her bottom and soothed her heated skin. She had cold cream on her nightstand, and I instructed her to lay across my lap and I would apply the cream to her hot, sore bottom. She looked at me warily at first but then she realised I meant it and she lay across my lap one more time. This time for comforting soothing cream.

I took my time rubbing and smoothing that cold cream deep into her welts and deep red overheated cheeks. My fingers strayed once or twice to her pussy lips and she instantly reacted by thrusting her bottom up. I spanked it lightly and told her to be a good girl. We stayed like this for about 15 minutes and I watched utterly fascinated as her bottom turned dark red, with bruising that was already beginning to show. There was a lovely purple hue to her skin now, none of that pink blush that we had started out with. Her thighs were a shade lighter, but I imagine she was throbbing everywhere and was extremely frustrated into the bargain.

I patted her bottom and told her to get cleaned up and get some sleep, we had a big meeting the following morning and neither of us could afford to be late.

The following morning, I tapped on her door and she opened it and grinned at me. I stepped inside and watched her as she raced around the room getting ready.

I asked her how she felt after her spanking and she looked very slyly at me and said she felt amazing, although at the time it was very painful and humiliating to have absolutely no control over what happened to her, but afterwards when the throbbing started properly she had herself a great time from all accounts. She also asked me if I would consider spanking her again in the future which I of course readily agreed to. I also made her turn around and bend over so I could inspect her bottom for bruising and any blisters. I did stroke her for quite a while, it was a real turn on for me to come back that morning and inspect a spanking I had delivered. I left her feeling very frustrated again and told her I would see her in the canteen for the team managers meeting in 5 minutes. I delivered a few sharp slaps to her rump before I left chuckling at her dismay at not being able to play longer.

She was hooked…. and I was in my element!

Welsh U’25s International Player!

The Boy reaches his Peak!

So, I left you with The Boy’s acceptance into the Welsh U’25s International Squad and the gruelling training sessions he was about to undergo. To say he was excited would be putting it mildly! He was ecstatic! As was I, but my own excitement was slightly tainted because his father had gotten wind of The Boy’s elevation to International Status and had decided he would be riding coat tails again. I asked the Boy how he felt about the whole situation and once again, he schooled me in the art of adulting!

He sat me down and looked me straight in the eyes, ‘Mum, if he wants to waste his time, money and effort travelling across to Ireland then that’s his prerogative. I don’t have to speak to him or acknowledge him. Neither do you. He’s just a spectator in the crowd. As long as I can see you there, nothing else matters! It’s our sport, we earned this, and nothing is going to stop us from enjoying it!’

Okay. That’s me told. I was with him all the way on the not speaking to the idiot. It didn’t quite go to plan but I kept him away from The Boy. The trip over to Ireland on the Ferry was an interesting one. The Boy had flown over with the squad and I went via ferry to transport various kit, basketball chair, spares etc and the car of course. I can’t be without my car. Makes for a quick getaway when the shit hits the fan! Which it does, frequently, whenever the idiot is within shouting distance of me. Which was unfortunate because he was on the ferry too. At one point I did consider pushing him over the side into the sea when he was acting like a complete idiot and was standing on the second rail waving his arms about, but too many people were around and watching. He was very lucky. I walked away from him shaking my head and went for coffee and locked myself in my cabin with a book.

I arrived in Ireland and drove across to the tournament venue. (Yes, I left the idiot at the ferry terminal to make his own way to the venue. I owe him nothing, especially not a free lift.)

The Boy was waiting in the hotel lobby for me, he had his Welsh Kit on and he looked so proud of himself I wanted to cry! I took copious amounts of photographs and we had a good laugh with the rest of the squad and their families for the rest of the evening.

The following morning, it was down to business. I sat down in the spectators stands as far away from the idiot as I could, sandwiched between the parents and families of the other squad members! The first match was scheduled to Tip off at 10 am and was between Scotland and Ireland. Then came a stumbling block. The referees were talking with officials in a huddle by the table officials table. Arms were being waved about randomly, heads were being shaken, and then a tap on my shoulder came. It was the organiser of the tournament.

‘We need a level 2 Table official to officiate the matches or the tournament cannot go ahead. The table official who was supposed to preside has called in this morning saying he is sick and cannot take part. We don’t have another official. The referees tell me you are qualified, would you please consider tabling the tournament with the two level One officials assisting?’

Gobsmacked much? Okay, I have tabled my fair share of games, but never at this level and I don’t mind telling you, I was crapping myself! But, the tournament was indeed in jeopardy if I refused. Contrary to popular belief, officials for the amazing game of wheelchair basketball are thin on the ground, so scaring up another suitably qualified official from the home ground at this late stage would prove to be nigh on impossible! So, they gave me an official shirt and a coffee (imperative piece of kit the coffee) and off I went to become the table official for the Celtic Cup Tournament.

The Boy broke rank before the match started and came and hugged me, he was beaming! It really was our sport and now we were both taking part in his first International game. The downside to me being on the table was I was not allowed to cheer, but the other family members were aware of my THAT’S MY BOY! war cry and every time he scored they shouted it out in unison for me! I think everyone combined was nearly as loud as I would have been had I been able to cheer!

The end of the first day of games saw Wales in a strong position running just behind Scotland who were the most awesomely well oiled machine I have ever watched! Wales had their work cut out for them, but they went back to the hotel undaunted and in high spirits.

I went back exhausted but happy! No major cock ups from the table so I could sleep easy! Tomorrow was the finals and it was Wales Vs Scotland!

Tomorrow dawned bright and early and the Boy was up, breakfasted and out and already on the court warming up. His match was tipping at 1pm and you could feel the anticipation in the air. Parents, friends and general spectators were taking their seats and watching the training session like it was a match! Every basket that went swish brought a smattering of applause, every basket missed brought a collective ‘Aww’ from the steadily growing crowd.

My table squad were ready, set up and raring to go. I was less raring and had reached a basic acceptance of I had 30 minutes to drink as much coffee as possible and learn how to keep my mouth shut through this most important of matches! I mentioned my concern in passing to one of the referees for the match. He was laughing with me because he remembered my war cry from an earlier match at one of the junior national championship games, he said I had made him jump when I let out my ‘roar’ as he described it. He wandered off to chat with the other refs and came back five minutes later beaming at me.

I raised my eyebrow in question, and he said ‘I’ve had a chat with the others, and because under normal circumstances you would have been in the stands cheering your boy and his team on, we see no reason to prevent you from ‘roaring’ should he score a basket! Least we can do seeing as you’ve done the table all weekend! The Organiser for the tournament was also in agreement! I was ecstatic! I could cheer The Boy on! YES!!

It may sound a little odd and such a small thing to anyone reading this, but let me tell you, when you are in the middle of a high octane, fast paced, free flowing basketball match and it’s your boy who has the ball and is preparing to shoot, you forget rules and regulations, you forget you are a table official, you forget you are anything other than the boy’s proud mama and you ROAR when that net swishes and he has scored! You don’t have a choice! It has to happen.

The Final match was upon us. Scotland came on court first, from tallest to smallest in the straightest line ever and they lined up on the left of centre. Wales came on court from smallest to tallest and lined up in a straight line to the right of centre. National Anthems were played and flags were raised with Pride. The tallest player from each squad went to the centre for the tip, 5 players from each team went to bench and the remaining 4 each took up their defensive positions. The referee raised the ball…

It dropped and Scotland took the tip! The game was ON!!

Fast and furious, the first quarter flew by, I ran commentary for the table, they wrote down every word, scores flew onto the board with increasing speed, but the boy was yet to get his name on the score sheet. The first quarter buzzer sounded and the whistle blew. Both teams withdrew to their benches and coaches and huddled for 2 minutes discussing team strategy and tactics. The score board read, Scot. 24 Wales 20

Scotland had possession of the ball and it was rolled in to their forward, the Boy cut across and behind and swiped the ball out of the players hand as soon as his fingers touched. Wales had possession, that Boy took off like his life depended on it, he skidded to a halt at the three point line and the ball went up, flew from the tips of his fingers and swished! IT’S ALL NET!! OH MY GOD!! THREE POINTER!! THAT’S MY BOY!!!

Yeah, the other table officials were slightly shocked, but the referees laughed as they signalled basket good, and the game continued. I was grinning like a cheshire cat! More baskets came, some flew off the rim, bounced hard of the backboard, ran off the court, airballed the backboard, but most of those puppies went straight down and through the net. It was without doubt one of the most exciting games I have ever had the good fortune to watch, and my boy was in the thick of it! I was one proud Mama! More important than all of that, He was one Proud BOY!!

The final buzzer sounded and the final whistle blew. The score was Scotland 60 Wales 56.

First time out for Wales as an International Squad for the Under 25’s had netted them a Silver Medal! They could hold their heads up high and be proud, they had played hard and fast right to the wire. No one could have asked them for more! As much cheering and celebrating went on for our Welsh squad as it did for Scotland who were the stronger team on the day. It was huge smiles and hugs all round.

Silver!

So, we returned semi triumphant from the Boy’s first and as it turns out, only International Tournament. He played hard and he played fast for another season with his club but his health was deteriorating rapidly and he was ill more than he was well which left him with no option but to hang up his basketball wheels for good. I was so sad to see him make this decision. He could have been filled with bitterness, he could have been filled with anger at his lot, instead he smiled and said, 15 years playing the best sport ever, reaching the top of my game, playing for my Country, and retiring as a Celtic Cup Silver medalist is enough for me. I need to get well Mum. We need a rest.

That’s my boy people, of whom I am most proud.

This is the last post I will write for the Boy, I have run the length and breadth of his story as seen through my eyes and felt in my heart. In my minds eye, I can see every triumph, every failure, every sickness, every climb back to good health. The battle is still on for his good health, we will win the war. That basket is ours and it will be all NET!

Thank you for reading about my perfectly imperfect son and best friend.

One final Story about The Boy

Wales International Under 25’s Squad

Yes! I almost forgot the pinnacle of his Wheelchair Basketball Career!!

SACK THE MAMA!! LOL

The Boy hung up his hopes of playing for the Great Britain Men’s team, his epilepsy was too unstable for him to commit to the rigorous training schedule they maintained and the gruelling travel schedule, but as time went on and he returned to the Bball courts for his home team(s) on a regular basis and ramped up his training sessions, his epilepsy stabilized for a time. We learned how to deal with the absences and we had managed to reduce the impacts of stress to a point where he would only experience a few absences a month now instead of 20 or 30.

Life became more like it was supposed to be for him, fast paced, high octane, full on wheelchair basketball and no apologies or regrets. Just living in the moment and loving the hell out of it and life. For both of us.

By now, I was in the second year of my happily divorced state and I had changed tremendously. I had relaxed! I had stopped having to micromanage every single moment in case it upset the now ex husband, and just concentrate solely on the boy and keeping him well balanced and healthy. His ‘happy’ has always come from deep inside him, as it should.

It was around the time of his 22nd birthday that the Welsh International Coach approached The Boy’s Coach and put forward the request for any and all Welsh players over 19 and under 25 to go to South Wales for trials to be selected for the Under 25’s Squad and represent their Country in an upcoming Celtic Cup Tournament to be held in Northern Ireland.

The Boy’s Club Coach made the suggestion to him and his face when he heard those words… oh my goodness! I still get choked up just thinking about the look on his face. A light that had not been present in him for a good few years, suddenly came back on and it shone from him. He was positively beaming!

Then the worries and a long hard discussion came, he, his Coach and I, discussed at great length the implications of his epilepsy on his long term ability to play at International level and I can tell you this, The Boy schooled us both in the lesson of expectation versus reality.

He said, ‘I am not looking at a long term life commitment here, I am looking at one Golden opportunity to play at International Level and take my game as far as I can, as high as I can reach and for just one tournament at a time. I have no greater expectations of this opportunity than one tournament! I’m going in for the trials, will you support my decision?’

YES!!! HELL YES!!! Both his coach and I were humbled and awed at the level headedness of his thinking and of course, the Man he had now become. My Boy was a Man any mother would be proud off but especially me because I made him! (The gave birth sort of made him, not made his career, that was his own doing!)

He sent an email to the Welsh Coaching team to express his interest in trying out for the squad and he was sent an invitation to attend the first set of trials/training sessions.

We packed bags, brought his chair up to tip top condition, new tyres, straps, castors etc and we were travelling from the North to the South within a matter of weeks. His first sessions were brilliant! No absences, no illness just pure focus and sheer exhilaration that he was here, he was doing this and nothing was going to stop him.

He attended both days of trials which were 7 hours of training each day and returned home with dates for the next set of trials in two weeks time! He had gotten over the first hurdle! He was on his way up the ranks!

During the interim two weeks he attended every training session the Club put on. I want to put this into a little perspective, The Boy had changed Clubs at 19 due to bullying taking place courtside during matches and during training sessions. Favouritism and nepotism had shown its ugly face in what used to be a great club and the camaraderie that used to be present had been chipped away. Things came to a head when I witnessed one of the senior players pushing the boy around on the courtside. He is very non-confrontational and would not retaliate at all, so I did and that is where I shall leave that.

I then gave him the opportunity to change clubs and join a club where he could be happy and feel like he belonged again. He jumped at the chance and so now we travelled for 70 minutes to do a 120 minute training session and then drive for 70 minutes to get home again. We did this three times a week (sometimes 4) most weeks during the game season, 2 training sessions, 1 or 2 matches depending if both teams had a game on the same day. It was worth it, the difference in the Boy was immense. I would rather drive the extra mileage than give someone an opportunity to destroy his confidence! The bully had been dealt with too, I made sure of it.

Two weeks passed really quickly and before long we were back in South Wales attending another 14 hours of training. At the end of those sessions, the squad was selected and the Boy was moved to tears when his name was called out as a member of the Wales International Under 25’s Squad.

He managed to hold his tears in check, I couldn’t, I was openly and proudly crying like a baby! He had done it, he had reached the lofty heights of International Player Status! Now the real work would begin and he was more than ready for the challenge!

THAT’S MY BOY!!!!

To be continued… (This story is far too long for one post…)

In order to protect the Boy’s identity, I have not included any personal photographs of his time playing wheelchair basketball. But, just in case anyone is interested, the red image of a player shooting at the top of the post is actually the silhouette of a superb Canadian International player called Patrick Anderson, who is by far and away (in my humble opinion) the World’s BEST Wheelchair basketball player, ever! Many of the up and coming stars of the future have followed Pat’s career and wish to emulate him and his skill on the basketball court. He is a fine advocate for fair play and is a true gentleman of the game and also of life. It is a pleasure to be able to use the image. Look him up on Youtube! Be truly awed!

Learning to Live with Epilepsy

The Boy’s life grows infinitely smaller

I haven’t talked about the boy for a while. I thought it was time to tell the final part of his story which will bring us up to present day. I left you where he had just been diagnosed with epilepsy. Grand mal and Petit mal storming full force and wreaking havoc with his life. All the plans he had made for his future came to a grinding halt and his life turned upside down and inside out.

At 19 he was in full time college studying IT and Web design, he was also about to start driving lessons and he was trying out for the GB team and had just started training with them once a week. It all stopped.

He couldn’t concentrate in college and missed so much lecture time that he failed the course, he couldn’t retake it because he would have had to start right from the beginning again because the college system had changed. He would have to sign up for a course he had already completed which now incorporated his course in it’s second year and he just couldn’t bring himself to do it. He said, ‘What’s the point? I will only be ill again and it will all disappear again. I will fail another course and get no further on.’ I can’t say that I blame him. His concentration was at an all time low and he was in a downward spiral mentally for a while. He was tired of fighting. He couldn’t focus on his basketball, he was having random absences during training and at that level with GB it was dangerous for him to be on court. He decided he should just focus on his club basketball for the time being and look at International level when his epilepsy settled down. He couldn’t take driving lessons either because of the absences (petit mal) so he had to hand in his provisional license. He was effectively grounded indefinitely.

Despite all of the struggles with his health he managed to stay cheerful enough. We learned pretty early on that his epilepsy was stress based. If he got stressed out he had an absence. The meds he is on maintained the grand mal seizures and fits but the petit mal was making appearances on a frighteningly regular basis. The doctor decided he should take an extra tablet every day to combat the absences. Great, now his quality of life disappeared out of the window completely. 5 tablets a day was guaranteed to turn him into a zombie. He would sit staring at the television and had no interest in going to basketball at all now so I weaned him off the 5th tablet and he came back down to 4.

Gradually he became more himself again and we changed Basketball clubs and he started training with a new team. It wasn’t long before he was back in to the game full swing and going for it. He was playing back to back games for the club div. 3 team and div. 1 team. He was in his element and Basketball once again took over our lives. We travelled the length and breadth of the UK jumping from one ball hall to another pretty much every weekend and training three times a week. His absences were still kind of out of control but after a lot of observation about what was going on in his life when they happened we began to get a clearer picture of where the root cause was seated. Stress.

Finally we worked out that if we managed his stress better and I could catch it before it got to him, he could reduce the amount of absences without the need for further medication. The doctors were not pleased at all. ‘The absences disappear with the 5th tablet, why won’t you let him take it?’ they would demand to know!

‘Because he bloody disappears with the 5th tablet! I want him to still be here not monged out like a zombie! He has to be able to function!’ I replied!

One Doctor had the utter audacity to say, ‘well, he is disabled, you do have to limit your expectations for what he will be able to do as he gets older. He would be better if his medication prevented the entire epilepsy. At least he wouldn’t be dealing with that as well.’

F**k him. The Boy would live his life despite their best efforts to prevent it.

None of what the doctor said made a jot of sense to me. I couldn’t fathom where the hell his head was at with his thinking and I promptly told him to go to hell in a bucket of fire and get the hell of my son’s case. He wasn’t fit to practice!

I had many such conversations with many different doctors over the next few years until the boy turned 21 and fell ill again. This time he spent his 21st birthday in hospital being monitored for inexplicable bouts of sickness. No one could explain it, no one really wanted to try. After a week of inconclusive testing he was sent home and declared fit again. Except he wasn’t fit. He was far from it. He was on antibiotics almost constantly, as soon as he came off them he would be sick again and we would be right back at square one. No one was looking for the cause, everyone just wanted to treat the symptoms and blame his disabilities, or blame a UTI (urinary tract infection). Have some antibiotics.

This was the second year of a five year battle to get someone to listen to me and diagnose his failing kidneys and dead bladder. This was almost the end for the Boy. Almost but not quite. Only one Doctor listened and he saved his life 5 years ago this year. I have already written that part of his story, right back at the beginning of his journey. That was the reason for these the BOY posts.

We are still dealing with the aftermath of those ignored 5 years. The boy no longer plays his beloved sport of Wheelchair basketball, he hung his wheels up after he collapsed on court during a match and the doctor said he couldn’t explain it. He must have a UTI, here have some antibiotics and come back in a week if you are no better. Welcome in the boy constantly washing his hands to the point of blistering to try to prevent infections/germs causing more illness. Here comes a still active case of mild hand washing ocd on top of everything else. We have it down to he can wash his hands ten times a day, we are working on getting it down to 3 times a day.

At least you are not in pain young man! The doctor said to him one day when discussing his health with him after another random attack of sickness.

Oh for F**ks sake, don’t even get me started! I couldn’t even be bothered to correct the ignorant idiotic man.
So, this brings me full circle and to present date with the Boy and his health and how Dog came to be in his life and how he has sketched out a new life for himself within the limitations of his health. He has developed an interest in photography and walking the dog for hours along the beach near us. At least he hasn’t given up.

We are both exhausted and just rumble along these days. We have no expectations of greater things than he wants to achieve, for me the fact that he wakes up every day and is still with me is all I need to put a smile on my face and we laugh, a lot, about everything and anything because that is better than being bitter and disillusioned with life. The Boy is now a Man and I am proud to say he is my son.
I made him. He took what I made and made it perfectly imperfect. That’s good enough for me.

He is and always will be my Perfectly Imperfect Boy.

Perfectly imperfect ‘Dog’

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