The Boy at 19 and the start of Epilepsy

Epilepsy had reared it’s ugly head

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

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

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

Some of his many accolades, medals and trophies.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

We are back here again.

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

Graham and the Cane part 2.

continued…

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

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

And… this is where my mouth needs a muzzle!

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

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

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

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

Evil bloody cane!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Honestly? I was fucking relieved!

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

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

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

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

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

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

All photos courtesy of the internet.

Graham and the Cane

part One.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I’m not brave enough…

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

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

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

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

The Vicar is being defended???

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Clearly, that was a mistake.

to be continued….

All photos courtesy of the internet

The Boy v The Teacher

THE GAME IS ON!

GAME ON!!

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

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

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

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

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

Spectators turned up and filled the stands for the grudge match

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

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

TIP goes to the kids

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The sky is the limit.

All photos are stock photos from the internet

The Boy and Disability Discrimination at school.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His reply still blows my mind to this day.

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

he just bounces and pushes you know!

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

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

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

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

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

YES I FUCKING WOULD! It’s the truth!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

To be continued…

All photos are courtesy of the Internet

Spankings are like Buses…Better late than never!

Better late than never

It’s true! I can spend weeks lost in the wilderness of a spank free zone, I know I can spank myself but truthfully, the delicious crawling excitement that spirals down from my brain to my pussy on spanking day, is waning. I have no one to answer to except myself.

Just not feeling it at the moment…

Meh… I can think of better ways to spend my time and I do, frequently, but with the curtains closed! It’s one thing to be caught in the act of a spanking, it’s quite another to be caught pleasuring oneself! Especially since the stash of brand new dildos came to light! My leisure time has taken on a new dimension, a very satisfying one at that.

Before Stuart turned up with his cane I hadn’t had a spanking of any kind for a good few weeks, the last spanking I had given myself had left me feeling a little underwhelmed and dissatisfied. I was on the verge of putting the spanking kit away for good and then the Vicar had happened. I know it wasn’t me who got the spanking, but I did enjoy humiliating that pious little man with his hairy bottom and table tennis bat!

Regardless, I had lost my craving for the sting so Stuart calling with his cane had sent me into a complete tail spin. That cane was the most evil, whippy, thinnest cane I have ever seen and I had no interest at all in feeling it across my bottom. I know I love a good caning to finish off a punishment but bloody hell, that thing looked lethal! I don’t mind admitting I was hugely relieved when it was delivered safely into Graham’s hands and locked away in his cabinet without trials being carried out.

Evil!

Which brings me right back to where I left you all in my previous post.

Stuart was very cross with me for going commando style again. It really is a pet hate of his, knowing I won’t wear panties. I don’t know why, I’m not asking him why either, that would suggest he is important in my decision making regarding my attire, he isn’t. Nobody but me, peeps.

Obviously being at Graham’s house had certainly afforded Stuart a rare opportunity to carry out a spanking on the spot, Graham was always going to be happy to oblige in providing a venue and spanking implements. I should just think myself lucky he didn’t want in on the spanking!

So, I have had my bottom warmed up and I am now back over Stuart’s knee with my rosy coloured bare bottom raised high in the centre of his knees. My hands are touching the floor and my legs are crossed at the ankles to prevent me from kicking out. I can feel Stuart’s erection pressing against my side as he pulls me closer to him and anchors me by the waist with his free hand, I can feel my pussy responding to the proximity of what appears to be a rather magnificent specimen of manhood! I am utterly distracted by his arousal and I have all but forgotten why I am in this position.

Then the first wallop with that thin leather paddle lands and OH MY FUCKING GOD!!! Pain erupts like a lightning strike across both of my cheeks and I HOWL! What erection? There’s an erection somewhere? I have nothing else in my brain except that pain! I wriggle to get out of his hold, he tightens his grip around my waist and tells me to keep still or it will be harder next time. The next wallop lands and I squeal and swear, which brings about four heavier strokes with that nasty paddle at a much slower pace so that the bloom of the first strokes are now spreading across my cheeks and the heat has been raised tenfold. I need to remember he hates me swearing too!

DAMN! this thing hurts!

Oh man, I had forgotten how painful a spanking can be! My only saving grace as I see it is Stuart is a softy really, if I plead with him I am pretty sure he will end the spanking soon and let me go with a stern telling off. I know how to work him, I am calculating now how many spanks I can take before I can begin the negotiations, my plan turns to dust in a nanosecond as Graham enters the room and draws up a chair where I can see him and he can watch the entire spectacle of me being spanked. Humiliation much?

He has a gleam in his eye that looks suspiciously like he wants to get involved, I HOWL again as yet another four strokes find their way across my sit spot and thighs and the tears are forming now, but I refuse to allow them to fall. I can take this, I’ve had harder spankings!

Graham chuckles at my stubborn expression, he crosses his leg and speaks quietly to Stuart. ‘I think our little feral cat has a huge mutinous streak that needs to be taught a lesson Stu. She is nowhere near tear spilling, I have a sneaking suspicion she might actually be enjoying this?’

Stuart grunted his disapproval of the idea I might be having fun, and the thwacks came down harder and slower and were so much more painful because now he was putting more effort in because he had an audience to play to. My bottom and thighs were on fire, I was howling and sobbing and squealing but the tears would not fall! Fuck me, I could really have done with them making an appearance now, because this was so painful on my unspanked for weeks and weeks bottom and thighs!

Quite suddenly the spanking ended. The leather paddle was laid down on the sofa and I felt Stuart’s hands roaming over my fiery red bottom, he stroked my thighs, ran his fingers between my legs and felt the wetness of my pussy, he rubbed a little and withdrew his fingers to wipe them on my hot bottom. I heard him chuckle, a deepthroated fully aroused male chuckle that had my pussy singing in response. I lifted my head up and risked a glance at him but Graham had other ideas. He leaned down and whispered in my ear, ‘If you even so much as dare to blink right now, I shall take over the spanking while Stuart holds you in position. You know I don’t get distracted by the scent of your sex, darling.’

I put my head back down quickly. Oh boy, this was definitely new territory for me. How do I handle two of them? I do as I am told, that’s how!

Stuart was completely preoccupied with my bottom and pussy, he stroked and petted, pushed his fingers inside gently stroking me and I was squirming and groaning and oh fuck… I think if we had been alone things may have escalated and I would have found myself riding that magnificent member until we both came and hard! I was so fucking HOT for him right now I could literally scream! I pushed my bottom back against his fingers and he laughed at my efforts to have them fully inside me.

He withdrew them and then without any warning he hand spanked me so hard I was kicking out, legs flailing, tears flowing freely down my face, I was begging now, please I am so sorry, I promise to behave better in future, I promise I will wear panties, I promise, I promise, I promise!
I hate myself for it, the submissiveness I succumb to, the humiliation that begging brings with it, the smallness of my voice as I plead and beg for his forgiveness but at the same time I crave that feeling. I can’t get it any other way and that makes me even more angry with myself. I shouldn’t need this!

Graham has stood up now and he is leaving the room. Stuart is still spanking me but the spanks are slowing and becoming softer. He’s nearing the end and I can tell we are almost done. Finally he stops and lifts me up and sits me on his lap. He cuddles me and hands me some tissues Graham has so thoughtfully left out for just such an occasion!

He kisses me gently, he wipes my tears away, he murmurs senseless words in my ears and calms my traumatised brain with them. I have slowed my crying down to a few hiccuping sobs and I am cuddled into his huge chest feeling the most safe and secure I have ever felt in my entire life. That feeling fills me with fear, not the spanking, not the paddling, not the sexual exploration which is all out of my control and therefore excites me beyond belief. No, the only thing that frightens me is this, the closeness, the gentleness, the adoring way he holds me and soothes me while I calm down.

Graham appears at my side now and hands Stuart a big tub of Aloe cream to rub into my skin. I can’t let Stuart do it, I just can’t. That will break me completely. It’s too personal, it’s too loving, it’s too kind and caring. I bolt from his lap like I have been stung and I pick up my skirt from the floor, take the cream and excuse myself and escape to the sanctuary of the bathroom where I can tend my bottom in private and calm my stupid needy heart down and find some of my all but disappeared bolshy attitude.

I wish I didn’t enjoy it so damn much…

Spankings are like buses… better late than never, I suppose?

All photos are courtesy of the Internet

Stuart brought his Cane for a visit.

Especially when one has to do it for one’s self!

So, you know when you think all of your options have disappeared and you are back to the D.I.Y. position in life? Well that’s where I was.

I had pretty much given up on Stuart as a viable option for spanking me. He wanted to counsel me, he was too nice a person and he was interested in so much more from me than I was interested in giving.

Hmm… not sure I wanna do this bit too often

Anyway, after the discipline weekend that wasn’t, I had finally forgiven Stuart and we were back to normal with each other. He still made me feel submissive around him, I still had fantasies about him spanking me until I used my safeword, but I kept it all under wraps, because the bottom line is, he was too complicated. I couldn’t have one without giving him the other. Don’t want to. Not doing it. Don’t need that complication in my life. It’s about trust. Or lack thereof. I trust Stuart, I don’t trust who I turn into with him.

I don’t trust relationships. I just need a spanking from time to time (every week would be nice) that is enough for me. There is an edge to Stuart’s personality that tells me I would be biting off more than I could chew.

I don’t know who I turn into with Stuart…

All that said, I was feeling a bit at a loose end a couple of weeks after the vicar incident and I was feeling very restless. This makes me naughty. I do naughty really well. I texted Stuart and told him about spanking the Vicar and how the Wilsons were responsible for the Vicar finding out about it all. I also texted him and said I really needed to give myself a good hard spanking soon. He texted me back and said he was in the area could he call and see me?

Of course I said yes! When he isn’t being complicated, he’s excellent company, and, there was a vague possibility he might decide to spank me?

I think I need to be more careful what thoughts I put out to the Universe…

An hour later, Stuart was ringing the doorbell. I ran down the stairs and opened the door. Imagine if you will, the sight of a 6ft 3″ muscular, well built, good looking man standing at your front door with the thinnest, whippiest cane in his hand you have ever seen and he’s smiling at you!

Oh FUCK! That smile scares me more than mine scares everybody else! I risked a glance at the cane, stood back from the door and allowed him to enter. I gritted my teeth as he wiped his shoes on the carpet and I think I may have growled a little bit. If he heard me he didn’t comment.

A little later, brew in hand we were sat in the lounge just chatting about stuff when he tapped the cane, which hadn’t left his side since he had arrived.

‘I need to deal with this.’ He was smiling that ‘welcome to my lair’ smile! Look, I don’t know if there is such a thing as a welcome to my lair smile, but see, that’s what pops in my head everytime he smiles like that. He has a range of them, I’m running out of ways to describe them all! Couple that with I am beginning to feel submissive again and okay I might be getting a bit turned on too, and I believe I have just created a recipe for disaster!

‘What do you mean deal with it?’ I tucked my legs up under me, a bit like a protective gesture for my bottom. Hide it!

‘It’s a gift for Graham, he and I have become good friends over the past few months and amongst other things, we discuss spanking, as you know, we both share a keen interest in a certain bottom!’

‘Coulda fooled me!’ I mumbled under my breath, I know he heard me though. I saw his eyes narrow, but he continued as if I hadn’t spoken.

‘He was saying he had managed to break the tip of his favourite cane and he couldn’t use it as it is. Too sharp an edge, etc etc. Anyway, I have a number of canes, it isn’t my favourite implement, I prefer leather, although I will when required leave stripes on a deserving bottom when needed. So I offered him one of mine. I don’t use this one at all. It’s a shame for it to just sit there. So that’s why I’m in the area. I’m delivering this to Graham, do you fancy joining us both for a bit of a get together, chat, drink, etc?’

I know I should have asked what the etc meant but I didn’t, I smiled because I haven’t been anywhere for fun in a while and I needed a break from these four walls so to speak. So I said, ‘Sure, sounds like fun, I’ll just go get changed.’

Ten minutes later we were knocking on Graham’s door and being ushered in like long lost most beloved relatives!

The evening was fun, I was relaxed because the cane had been swooned over and petted and stroked and then Graham excused himself while he took it and put it in his cabinet in the other room.

While he was gone Stuart dropped down onto the sofa next to me and whispered in my ear. ‘You are going to be spanked hard tonight for your comment earlier, just so you know.’

I turned owl eyes on him. My cheeks flushed and my pussy started to throb with excitement.

‘What comment?’ I never know when to quit do I?

‘Coulda fooled me’ comment earlier, it’s time you learned your lesson lady and I fully intend for it to happen before I leave tonight.’

I grinned at him, ‘ah well, best laid plans and all that, there is no way you can tonight because the boy will be home soon so the house won’t be empty. Maybe next time!’

Graham chose this moment to come back into the room with a long slim leather paddle and handed it to Stuart. ‘I never use this, I prefer the cane, think it’s more up your street than mine.’

Stuart grinned and accepted his gift, and then he smiled what can only be described as a crocodile smile, he looked at Graham with an eyebrow raised, ‘would you mind if I give it a test run right now Gray, only a certain little lady has been running off at the mouth all evening and honestly, I think her bottom needs painting red.’

Graham laughed loudly, ‘be my guest mate, I’ve heard what she’s been up to with the Vicar, shocking stuff, taking a paddling from a Vicar!’

I didn’t! I gave him a paddling! Well, the machine did! I didn’t touch him…

Graham grinned at me, gave a thumbs up to Stuart and then left the room saying he had some stuff he needed to get on with anyway and left us alone.

My pussy was so wet I was shocked at how turned on I had become! Stuart uncrossed his legs and without warning he took hold of my arm and pulled me down over his knees. A second later heavy swats were landing on my covered bottom but they were coming thick and fast and I could feel them through the layer of clothing. He stood me up in front of him.

‘take off the skirt Gem, pull down your panties and put yourself back over my knee.’

Did I mention how submissive I become around Stuart! Bloody hell, like a lamb …

I kept my eyes lowered as I unzipped my skirt and allowed it to fall to the floor, it revealed my naked pussy immediately, I wasn’t wearing panties, I rarely did these days. I risked a glance at his face and oh boy was I ever in trouble for going commando!

‘I believe…’ he said quietly, ‘you are aware of my rules regarding leaving the house without your panties on?’ He was looking at my glistening pussy and I could clearly see the outline of his erection straining against the groin of his black trousers.

Okay I needed to look somewhere, anywhere else! I made the mistake of looking at the leather paddle, then I made the bigger mistake of speaking.

‘I wasn’t aware I was still under your rule Stuart.’ Y’know people, it’s all in the tone of voice. I could have softened that statement in any number of ways but as usual I went for sarcastic bitch who needs a damn good spanking!

He didn’t disappoint…

to be continued….

All pictures are courtesy of the internet unless otherwise stated.

The Vicar came calling… with a table tennis bat!?!

WTF happened to carrying a Bible?

Y’know, I’m just gonna put this out there right now. Some people take liberties when they think they have one over on you, even when they do, which he obviously did, it was always a leap of his faith if he thought he would get to see my bare arse over his knee!

Never gonna happen!

So, it’s 7 pm and I’m sat in my kitchen, I’m on respite time which means I’m alone for 3 hours until 10 pm.

I decided that my skirt should be the shortest I possess, my heels, the sexiest stilettos I own and my stocking tops should be lacy and peeking out of the bottom of the skirt and nothing less than commando style was required for this momentous occasion. Top that with a fitted white blouse and a black bra that barely held my lively puppies in place and I was set. The vicar was calling.

In truth, this would be the first time a man of any kind of religious cloth would be allowed through the front door of my home, me being the naughtiest, most going to hell in a bucket of fire, most unrepentant Atheist this little god fearing village has ever known. And they did, know, I mean. They have all tried, unsuccessfully, for years to bring me into the fold and make me become one of the god bothering flock! Never gonna happen!!

Happy Atheist lives here!

I don’t hate the religious, each to their own is my motto. I simply don’t have the time, the patience or the inclination to stand and listen to the pious mumbo jumbo the religious type peeps in my village tend to spew out, much like the bollocks I was exposed to as a child raised in the catholic faith. It never made any sense to me, I couldn’t work any of that shit out so I stopped trying, once I stopped trying, it was a very small step to stopping believing, once I stopped believing, I was declaring myself a happy Atheist forevermore! I don’t hate god, he doesn’t exist, you can’t hate something that doesn’t exist. It’s simple. Therefore if god doesn’t exist then the devil can’t either. So, with all that in mind, one little man wearing a dog collar and carrying a bible was holding no fear for me or my bottom from either him or his imaginary boss upstairs!

I was gonna play with that man till his head popped!

POP

That was the plan anyway…

The doorbell rang and I lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply before I set off down the hall. A far cry from the hurried dash down the stairs to answer the door to the window cleaner! I was proud of my nonchalance! (Yay, go me!) I sort of hip rolled down that hallway! It might be something to do with the shoes, I’m not sure a normal walk is a doable thing in 4″ stilettos!

I opened the door and there he stood, all self righteous and pious looking, with a vaguely disapproving expression on his face. I wonder if he practised that look in a mirror?

‘Vicar, what can I do for you?’ I was very cool and collected. I took another drag of my cigarette and exhaled as I leaned my hip on the door frame arms crossed (we know what that does to my puppies) and waited.

he took an involuntary step back, he was stood very close to the door when I opened it so essentially I was stepping into his space by leaning against the door frame.

‘I thought we needed to clear up some things Ms Strong, you did get my note from yesterday…?’ He was not accustomed to explaining himself that much was obvious, but he was on my turf so my rules.

‘I found a garbled message shoved through the letterbox but it was vague at best. Perhaps you could explain it all now for me, simply, so even I can understand what the problem is?’ I smiled, my smile frightens people. It makes them fear for their lives. It didn’t let me down this time either.

‘Er.. well, I don’t believe it’s a discussion that should be held on the doorstep Ms Strong, I am sure you wouldn’t want your neighbours to overhear…’ Yup there was the stammer of the fearful.

‘Trust me vic, I’m sure they’ve heard worse…’ I was thinking about Graham and how he had managed to become my spanker within a few hours of chatting with him. Yes he had definitely heard worse. As for the rest of them, I didn’t really give a flying fuck what they thought.

Graham was very good at it …

He looked very uncomfortable now and I was beginning to get bored with it all. I sighed deeply and stood back to let him in.

‘I suppose you had better come in, but don’t wipe your bloody feet on my carpet! It’s a sure fire way to piss me right off!’ It’s a pet hate, people step in to my home and wipe their dirty shoes on my carpet! WTF is that about?

He stepped through the doorway and shot me a startled glance at my abrupt instruction about the carpet. I pointed down to the floor, ‘does that look like a door mat to you?’

‘Erm no, it doesn’t. I er…’ He was still stammering. I think he was a little blindsided by now.

‘So don’t wipe your feet then, just follow me to the kitchen and lets have this hush hush conversation you are so desperate to have with me. Tea?’ Change the subject, keep him unbalanced, I’ve got this shit down patt these days.

He followed me with his eyes cast down, he had lost control of this situation before he had knocked on the door and he knew it. Self righteous twit!

He entered the kitchen and took a seat at the table. ‘Tea would be lovely, milk, one sugar please.’ He tried for a smile and failed miserably.

I dropped the spoon on the floor and bent down from the waist to pick it up, he couldn’t help but get an eyeful of my pantiless bottom. I heard him clear his throat, and I wished I could see his face! Oh dear, he really had walked into the lions den hadn’t he?

I was not of a mind to care about his sensibilities, so I began the ‘chat’ while I had my back to him.

oops

‘So tell me Vic, how much did the Wilsons confess to you? Did they tell you they were both enormously sexually aroused by their joint task force spanking of my behind? Did they tell you how Mrs Wilson let her fingers play with my butthole? How she flicked my cli…’ I was rudely interrupted by a very red faced little vicar.

‘THAT IS ENOUGH!’ He spluttered behind me. ‘You are being very disrespectful Ms Strong, the Wilsons gave me few details and more of a broad overarc of what had transpired between the three of you! I do not want the salacious details thank you very much, And please stop calling me Vic. I am a Vicar, Vicar Michael Green is my name and you can call me Michael or Vicar and you can stop being rude!’

Ooh! He was proper furious! Wow, that was easy! I laughed and then turned on him properly, I stood facing him with my arms folded underneath my boobs, (yep they were making a bid for freedom again)

‘I could also call you a giant prick if I want to. You are in my house sir, you don’t get to make the rules. If you haven’t come to find out the salacious details of the two hard spankings I recieved at the hands of the Wilsons, what the fuck are you here for?’ I pinned him with a questioning stare. (I genuinely can’t do that raised eyebrow thing, my eyebrows don’t work independently of each other, I just look surprised when I do it!)

He looked stunned. I honestly expected him to stand up call me some heathen name or something and walk out all offended.

It was my turn to be shocked.

He put his hand inside his jacket pocket and pulled out a table tennis bat and placed it in the centre of the table.

I looked at it, I looked at him, I looked at the bat again. WTF??

‘Is that intended for me and my bottom or you and yours?’ I asked quietly. I don’t even know why I asked if it was for him. It just kind of popped out of my mouth without warning.

Now he did look shocked. He went so red I thought he was going to pop with embarassment!

He couldn’t maintain eye contact then, and I knew… he hadn’t come here to spank me for leading two of his flock astray with wanton spanking sessions! He had come here because he wanted a bloody spanking and from ME no less!

I burst out laughing! I couldn’t help it! I’ll tell you what else I couldn’t do, I couldn’t spank that pious little man if my life depended on it, but my spanking machine could!

I looked at him for a moment and I made a decision. It was time for some fun.

‘Stand up Vicar and remove your jacket and drop your pants and your underpants to your ankles, assume the position over the table and spread your legs slightly. You will not look up, you will not speak until spoken to, is that clear?’

‘Yes Ms Strong, very clear.’ He nodded, his face was puce with embarrassment and humiliation.

While he hurriedly did as he had been instructed, I kicked off my stillettos and ran up the stairs and retrieved the spanking machine.

I walked back into the kitchen to be greeted with a sight that my eyes will never forget and still beg for bleach to wash the image away! Sticking out from the side of my kitchen table was the hairiest most unattractive backside I have ever been unfortunate enough to rest my poor eyes upon, and what else was that I could see? Dangling between his legs? Oh my goodness… he was wearing a chastity cage! Well at least I didn’t have to worry about sticky messes on the kitchen floor! But just in case he decided to leak I popped some kitchen roll on the floor between his legs.

I made it as small as possible!!! DON’T LOOK!! Your EYES WILL NEED BLEACHING!!!

I stood up and picked up the table tennis bat from the table. It was an old fashioned one, the kind that should have had a rubber surface on it, but this one was well used and worn, and the rubber had long since disappeared. It’s surface was polished and shiney. This was gonna sting like fuck when it landed. But just to be sure I put on a pair of rubber gloves (no way were my hands ever touching that hairy butt) and I dribbled some white mineral oil over his cheeks and rubbed it in well. I poured a little onto the bat and then fitted it into the spanking machine. I turned the power up to Max and the timer to five minutes (max) and then without further ado, I switched on the spanking machine and watched it go to work on his bottom.

The first few spanks elicited barely a moan from him, but as the oil began to do its work those spanks started to sting on contact and the oil stuck to the surface of the bat beautifully, it really began to connect sharply with his oiled bottom and a lovely cherry red glow began to appear. By the end of the first minute he was howling and yelping and squealing loudly as spank after spank after spank landed with beautiful precision and a sharp CRACK each time on his bottom and thighs. He was developing twin spots of red as I moved his bottom from side to side by prodding him a little with my cane and telling him to lift his bottom up, move this way, move that, stand on his tiptoes so that the thighs caught a good few whacks of that paddle.

30 minutes he got, 6 lots of 5 minute spankings, with two 5 minute corner times put in for good measure, the silly little vicar with his caged cock and balls and his very red face and bottom had received a rigourous spanking and he was looking very forlorn.

‘What do you say Vicar? Did you get what you came for?’ I prodded his bottom with the tip of a bamboo cane.

He sniffed and coughed and replied ‘Yes miss, I did. Thank you Miss.’

I don’t know why, but his sniffy little reply made me really cross with him. He hadn’t really taken that much pain from the spanking! He needed a sharp little end to his spanking and I had just the thing a thin bamboo garden cane!

What? I wasn’t using my own personal cane on him! EWW!! Yuck! That hairy… nevermind!

‘Come here Vicar, bend over and touch your toes do not move out of position. You will regret it.’ With that I gave him 6 of the best with the thin bamboo cane.

Oh dear how he yelped! I left 6 lovely stripes right across his bottom and thighs! Personally I think all that hair gave him a huge degree of protection and I told him so. In future if he was looking for a spanking from someone, he should shave his hairy butt!

I also made it clear he could NOT come back to me, or I would turn up in his church for the next one bend him over a pew and spank him in front of his congregation! Having no fear of retribution from a god I don’t believe in, I would be quite happy to carry out my threat. I think he believed me. He pulled up his trousers, grabbed his jacket and ran from the house.

He left behind his paddle though. I still have it sitting here, I think I am going to church this sunday to deliver it back to him!

Spanking appears to be a magnet for bringing the most unlikely people to my door, but I’ll tell you, it doesn’t half bring some fun your way when you least expect it!

All images/photos are courtesy of the Internet

The Boy makes the Regional Under 15s Squad!

He was on his way!

Yes he did! Within a few short months of that first basketball match, The Boy had been spotted by the Regional Squad Coach. He wanted him to come try out for the squad, attend the training sessions, meet the other kids who would be trying out too.

He was elated! He was flying high now, wheelchair basketball was his passion, his heart, his life and it was all that he talked about. Gone the little boy dreams of acting and dancing, gone the black place where he had found himself through their demise. Gone the shadowy figure of despair, to be gloriously replaced by the boy in full colour, determination and hope and happiness shining from him. He filled my heart up with joy.

He was selected! OF COURSE HE WAS!!! The Boy was now a proud team member of the Under 15’s Regional Squad and oh my goodness did he find his focus!

I remembered a conversation we had after the argument with the physio Ms J who called me a silly woman, yes that one. Silly bint. Anyway…

After we had returned home that day the boy had been inconsolable. He thought he was worthless because he was disabled and he shouted at me, ‘I’m BROKEN, just BROKEN! I can’t do anything can I, cos I’m DISABLED!’

After I had calmed him down I broke it down for him so he could cope with the word ‘disabled’ and I gave him some new ways of thinking about it. I told him he wasn’t broken, he wasn’t ‘disabled’, he was The Boy first and he had limited abilities.

He asked me what I meant, and I said this, ‘If you have a dream you want to make happen, that’s where your limit lies until you reach that dream, and then you reset your limit for your next dream. You can overcome anything if you set your mind to it and focus.’

He asked me then, ‘Where is my limit, Mum?’

And I said quite simply, ‘The sky.’

He was so happy to come out of the darkness of that ‘you’re disabled’ statement!

Well, as you know, he reached his dream limit for dancing and acting, and then he crashed back down to earth for a year. After a little while of picking himself up, dusting himself off and starting again, he now had a new limit to reach. He wanted to win Gold with his Junior Squad at the National Championships!

All of the kids on that squad were of the same mind, There is only GOLD nothing else will do. Coming second was not an option for them.

That Junior National Championships lit a fire in the boy and it glowed bright. The Phoenix had risen indeed. He was determined and focused and he channeled all of his energy into becoming the best Forward wheelchair basketball player he could be.

I can’t paint the images sufficiently with words to be able to show you that day. I wish I could. I was bursting with pride when the boy and his squad wheeled out onto the court for the final! They meant business, hearts and minds all on the same page, the coach was giving them their final instructions and then he told them to get out there and bring home the Gold!

The referee held the ball and The Boy sat in centre court facing his opponent for the Tip Off. He caught the ball, the game was ON!

GAME ON!!!

Oh my god! I was so hoarse from screaming and chanting, and making such a godawful racket that people were giving me sideways glances and side stepping out of my way as I ran up and down the court side cheering my boy and our team on! I am a MAD woman at his games. We were in the final 4 seconds of the game. The score was 44 – 43 to the opposition. The boy was fouled while attempting a shot! REFEREE!!!

The ref blew his whistle, and a foul was called. It put the Boy in the ‘D’ for two shots at the basket worth 1 point per shot.

He positioned his chair, bounced the ball twice and took aim

He positioned his chair, he bounced the ball twice, he took a deep breath and brought the ball up into shooting position, as it left his hands and hit the backboard right on the sweet spot, the ball dropped, ran around the rim of the basket in a little victory dance and then dropped, SWISH through the net! 44 – 44! He had evened the score.

HE SCORES!!!

Now pressure was on the boy’s head, this could be the winning shot, the difference between Gold and Silver was riding on it.

The ball came back to him, his teammates broke out of formation to come and pat him on the back, fist bump him, encourage him.

He smiled, he re-positioned his chair, he bounced the ball twice and he steadied his shooting arm. He brought the ball up to shooting position and let that ball fly through the air….

The ball is up…

THAT SHOT LASTED FOR AN HOUR!!!!

The shot was up in the air… FOREVER!!!!

FINALLY! It hit the sweet spot on the backboard and dropped straight through the NET!

OMG OMG OMG!!!!! 45 – 44 HE HAD SCORED!!! OMG OMG!!!!

THAT’S MY BOY!!!!! THAT’S MY BOY!!!! THAT’S MY BOY!!!!

The ball went out to the back court line and was thrown in by the opposition as they got it to half court the buzzer went and the whistle blew. THE GAME WAS OVER!!!!

We had WON GOLD!

A small selection of the boy’s trophies and medals

Trust me, I have no words to describe the roar that went up from the parents and families of our regional squad. Not just us though, the Ball hall was packed to the rafters with every team who had taken part in the competition and their families and friends. The cheering and whooping and hollering that went on was IMMENSE!

The atmosphere in that ball hall was as electric as any Paralympic wheelchair basketball final!

Our regional under 15’s squad had won their inaugural GOLD on their first ever championships and they were overwhelmed by what they had achieved.

After the match, the kids slid from their chairs onto the court and we all sat in a circle, hugging and laughing and crying! The boy sat next to me and wrapped his big arms around me and whispered, I haven’t reached my limit yet Mum, I want to play for the GB Men’s Squad. That’s where my limit is set!

Did I cry? Damned right I did! That conversation had been some 3 years before and he had remembered it. He had been using it from the day it was uttered right through to that day and intended it to be his mantra for the rest of his life.

PROUD MAMA!!!

YUP THAT’S ME!!

And for the very first time, his father had seen him play. He had attended the National Championships, because, well, the boy might win?

If they ever turned coat tail riding into a sport, that man would win his own gold medal.

he we go again

Nevermind, it didn’t detract one iota from the Boy’s fantastic first time out as a Regional Under 15’s squad member and now a NATIONAL CHAMPION!!

THAT’S MY BOY OF WHOM I AM MOST PROUD!!

All photos/images are courtesy of the Internet except the Trophy Cabinet, that belongs to the Boy.

Spanking Diary is making a return.

The Spanking diary has been on hold for a while in order to tell the story of ‘The Boy’.

I am feeling a bit frayed around the edges from reliving so much of the past, so I am dipping my toes back into the Spanking Diary this blog was originally created for. You have all been warned! I get a good spanking!

So, where was I?

The Discipline Weekend that wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.

Oh that’s right, my final thoughts on the subject! ‘Fucking hell! I’ve disappeared down that bastard rabbit hole again! Move over Alice I’m on my way down!’

Bloody rabbit holes!

Stuart, in my opinion had gotten me to his home under false pretences and I was absolutely furious with him. He wanted to talk, not spank, just talk. Maybe he thought he could ‘fix’ me with counselling? I don’t know but this was not what I had agreed to. I was going home.

He even tried dressing up his deceit by saying this was a form of punishment and discipline came in all shapes and sizes! Who the fuck cares? I needed a spanking and he wasn’t going to provide one. I had done everything possible to bring about that event, I had broken literally every rule he had laid down and I was glorious in my successful endeavors! Bastard! Who does he think he is?

NO! to talking! Just NO!

He’s an Alpha male with a conscience! Look, I know what he thinks he did was wrong, and in the real, mundane everyday world that I live in, his apology would have been accepted and we would have moved on. But this wasn’t that world, this was my spanking world and he was derailing it! I don’t care if he’s a nice guy!

Yes, I could go back to Graham and gain a spanking without much effort on my part I think, but ultimately, Graham was only going through the motions, he wanted a different end to a spanking, one I couldn’t provide. I was the wrong sex.

So, I’m now in a place that has twisted and turned itself inside out, upside down and is now back to front! I started off spanking myself for lack of a spanker to do it for me, then I got a surprise spanking or two from the Wilsons, (puritans for sure, but always with an eye on the main chance) and then Graham decided he was what I needed! A promised spanking is on the cards but before that can happen Stuart is also thrown into the mix, who also declares after handing out a rigorous OTK spanking that I need taking in hand and he is the man to do it.

Now, call me greedy if you want, but the idea of two alpha males regardless of sexuality or good looks, wanting to spank me makes me a HAPPY WOMAN! I’ve finally realised a dream, I have me a spanker, in fact I have me a back up spanker too. Happy days!

Within 24 hours that has all gone. I am back to me and my spanking machine! To be fair, that was a bonus and at least being just a machine, it can’t fuck it up and get sent packing like the human spankers can.

I am feeling a little bereft, I now have very vivid recollections of very real, very hard spankings and canings and I now have to revert back to my original plan. When one is out of the usual options, one must do it for themselves.’

So, a good hard spanking with the machine is now at the top of my ‘to do’ list. I just have to find the right time!

armed and ready for action.

You would think, given my penchant for spanking, that I would be racing towards the machine wouldn’t you. The problem is, I have already used it, maybe my bottom was still too bruised from Graham’s punishment of it to actually feel much more than a sting. But, I was feeling less than excited about it. Nevertheless, I secured my free time, I set the machine up and I assumed the position.

The machine was set on 8 to start off with, no point in going straight in at the top, (10) I wanted to feel it build up.

OW!!!! It built UP! I had used the butter paddle, I need to check my sanity, and my bloody eyesight! I had put the paddle into the machine ridged side facing my bottom.

Jesus that hurt!

RIDGES!!!

Now, the machine works on timings, up until now I had really only done counted spankings, so I had to work out how many spanks would be delivered in a 5 minute sequence. Well that would equate to 177 swats! OF THE BUTTER PADDLE WITH RIDGES!! I had been looking for a hard spanking, I certainly got my wish. My bottom was now stinging and more than that, I hadn’t moved around much so the build up of those 177 swats was pretty much in the same two spots. I move from side to side to cover both cheeks but I think I need to learn how to hula hoop to make this do an all over cover!

Anyway, I was now into the swing of the spanking, I could feel all my previous bad mood fading away as the throbbing in my bottom started to take over my conscious thoughts, and I turned the dial to deliver another 5 minutes, but with the machine belt slapper this time. I was gonna learn that hula hoop dance if it killed me!

OW, OW, OW!!! That is the most evil little strap…..I forgot to move, OWOWOWOWOW!!

I was so intent on avoiding the same spot I didn’t hear the front door bell, but much later, about 40 minutes or so, I went downstairs to make a brew, and recover from the machine spanking I had just endured. I noticed a note had been shoved through the letter box and I grabbed it on my way to the kitchen.

I made a coffee, lit a cigarette and then opened the note.

Well, for fuck’s sake… Now I’ve managed to piss off the local Vicar! Apparently, I have been the subject of a confession of sorts from the Wilsons to their Vicar! They feel as though they have done something bad and they needed to cleanse their fucking souls and expose my bottom into the bargain! I wonder if they left out the bit where he took advantage of a situation he only became privy to because he was looking in my bedroom window at my spanked bottom instead of just cleaning my windows!

The Vicar is requesting a meeting and soon. He will be calling again tomorrow at exactly 7pm. Would I mind making sure I am available this time, he also pointed out that he had heard my yelps and OW’s earlier while he had been stood at the door. Apparently, he thinks I am without morals! Fuck him! I’m an atheist, who gives a shit anyway? But I would be there at 7pm tomorrow, there was a tone to that note that had piqued my interest!

to be continued…

All images courtesy of the Internet except the butter paddle with ridges, that’s mine.

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