I only have three more things that I really feel are important to share about BBW. The rest of the party was wonderful, but it was ages ago, and holy crap, really Alex? You need to get caught up. So, here are my final three stories. I’m totally writing this from TASSP right now. My inability to keep up to date with this stuff is OUT OF CONTROL. Additionally, I’m sorry that recently my blog has simply been a series of stories about adventures most of the time, in case anyone finds that boring. Soon, my life will be settling for a while and I’ll get caught up and back to my regular programing. I’ve had really ridiculously low traffic this month, so I’m sorry for whatever isn’t awesome about what I’ve been up to recently. I’m still here, and I’ll do my best to get back to updating regularly and excitingly as soon as I can! 
There were a lot of British people at BBW, including a handful of my favorite people. I think it was Richard Windsor‘s idea to have a “Meet the Brits” party. I liked this party quite a bit because various people had brought biscuits and sweeties and other things that I was missing after returning to the US, and I munched on this stuff while socializing with whoever was around. At one point, Bad Alex and I ended up chatting to Mr. Allen again. I mentioned earlier that Bad Alex had sort of punched me on the knee earlier, and it had marked up. As the three of us hung out, I noticed this bruise again. “Mr. Allen,” I kind of whined, “Alex hit me. It left a mark, look!” He looked, and asked Alex if she had, indeed, hit me. She openly and unabashedly admitted to it, and probably included her trademark phrase: “sucks to suck!” As the victim, I was asked what punishment seemed appropriate and I suggested that she should be caned.

“Fine,” Alex said. “But tattletales get double.”
“Agreed,” said Mr. Allen.

Then my head exploded. Where was this rule every time that I did the tiniest little thing wrong and Mila felt it was her sisterly duty to tell everyone she could think of about it? It seemed to me that when someone tattled on me and I complained about it, the response was always “She’s just looking out for your best interest” or “She needs to protect herself.” The unfairness of the universe was overpowering. I probably stamped my foot, but I don’t remember.

Alex got her caning, which was enjoyable to watch. There was some sliver of fairness left in the world, because each of the six strokes obviously hurt, and everything is right when Bad Alex is experiencing something painful as consequence for her badness. Then it was my turn. “This isn’t fair!” I reminded everyone. “I didn’t do anything wrong!” Mr. Allen looked at me with an expression that suggested that I was close to earning even more strokes if I kept up my complaining, though, so I bent over the chair. They weren’t hard, full bodied strokes, but they weren’t overly playful, either. And, as the other stories in the previous posts will remind you, I’d played a lot that weekend. I was sore as could be, and each stroke made me whimper and yelp. Near the end of my thrashing probably at the tenth stroke or so, Lucy and Stephen came into the room and sat down at the end of the bed next to us. Lucy inquired about why I was being caned and Mr. Allen and Alex explained it to her.

“Yes, that seems quite fair,” Lucy said.
“WHAT?! Why does everyone think this is fair?!” I protested, making a scrunchy face at Lucy.  (My blog doesn’t support me making the emoticon scrunchy face but you’ll just have to imagine it. A lot).
“Mr. Allen!” Lucy immediately called out, “Alex just made a horrid face at me!”
“Did you?” Mr. Allen asked and I nodded pitifully, unable to tell a lie. “You’ll be getting extra strokes,”  he told me. In my mind, the amount of extra strokes was four, but it’s very possible it was actually two. My memory can be a bit faulty when it comes to these things, especially as time passes.

It was impossibly hard not to scrunch my face up at this announcement, but somehow I managed, knowing quite well that it wouldn’t be a wise choice. The extra strokes (however many they were) were harder, and I yelped more loudly than I had previously, shuffling my feet and grinding my toe against the floor. This was the first time I’d ever been punished for making a scrunchy face. It was not the last.


The reason why I find this story particularly noteworthy is because I wanted to get Bad Alex caned. In the process, I ended up taking probably sixteen strokes. I got ten more strokes than she did. Somehow, this still felt “worth it” to me. Why? Because Bad Alex is Bad. Besides, I like unfairness. I like it when someone I know well and trust lies to me about what will and won’t happen in a scene (YS does this quite regularly. He tells me he’s only giving me two strokes and then gives me six, or something like that). The feeling of this scene spiraling out of what I expected it to be was invigorating. I felt like I was being swept along, caught up in the current of some river of caning. There was something much more interesting about not being able to be certain when things would end. 
The good and the bad!
The second incident took place on the Sunday before we all left BBW. ellee and I had negotiated a group roleplay scene with Richard Windsor before the party. Richard had given us pretty much free reign on the scenario, within the agreed upon context that it was a school roleplay that was meant to end with us getting caned. ellee and I brainstormed for a long time, tossing back and forth various ideas over email and IM. Eventually, one of my ideas won out: we would be in trouble for having a secret pet  in our dorm. ellee filled in a lot of the details: we’d found a litter of kittens behind the supply shed and had taken them in because they were oh-so-cute instead of telling someone in authority about them. As the kittens grew, they caused all sorts of problems: they tore up the carpet and wallpaper, peed all over things, gave a girl an asthma attack and, probably worst of all, brought fleas into the building. Everyone in the dorm had them, and the dorm director was at a loss for what was causing the “bedbug problem.” Eventually, the asthma attack had gotten us brought to attention and our dorm director wrote a letter to the headmaster, Mr. Windsor. ellee and I carefully crafted this letter, including making a fake email address for the “dorm director” to send it to Rich. 
Unfortunately, it was a bit hard for Rich to punish us for having kittens, being an animal lover himself, so it may not have been the ideal scenario. It was totally us, though: earnest, mostly good, accidentally in a lot of trouble, rather sad about it. 
On Sunday, when it was time for our scene, ellee and I got dressed up in school uniforms that didn’t match at all. (We now have matching school skirts. This changes everything. Next party that we’re at together, we take over the world). Still, we both felt like school girls, and that’s what counts. We came into Rich’s room and he was in character, lecturing us from the door about what we’d done wrong and how much trouble we were in. We stared at the ground repentantly, trying to give answers that weren’t too snarky. Eventually, it was decided that we knew better, and that we’d caused a lot of damage, so we were both to be spanked and then we’d each get twelve strokes of the cane. Rich sent me to stand in the corner while he spanked ellee, first– he later told me that he did it this way because he knew that this would build a lot of anticipation and have a strong affect on me, and he was entirely right. I try to take cornertime seriously, even in a roleplay, because it’s such an important part of my kink. This time, though, the lighthearted nature of our pretending and the fact that elleebutt was getting spanked right behind me got the best of me, and I kept turning around to peek. Rich caught me and told me that if I looked back again, I’d get extra strokes. I couldn’t help myself. I looked back again. I guess I’m just never satisfied with twelve strokes of the cane. I have to keep earning extra. 
Once he finished spanking ellee, he switched and put me over his lap. I tried to oogle ellee while she stood in the corner near me, but I was far too distracted by the spanking at hand.

The spanking was brisk, and I was already sore, so I wiggled and squirmed around. When it was done, Rich got me up and got ellee out of the corner and directed us to bend over opposite sides of a small table, where we’d be receiving our canings.

In position! (ellee is the cutest girl ever to live)

He then gave ellee the first stroke, which made her yelp. After that, he walked around the table to my side, to deliver my first one. This process was long and very, very anticipatory. Anticipation can be a hugely positive factor in a scene for me, and a lot of the play that Richard and I have engaged in together has emphasized this. The whole set up served to get into my head quite a bit, which seems to be another big factor in the scenes that Richard and I have done. After I got each stroke, I saw ellee’s face as she got hers. We grabbed each other’s hands in solidarity and comfort, and I felt her squeeze me as things hurt.

EVEN HER HANDS ARE CUTE!

Eventually, we worked through all the strokes, except for the additional two that I’d be getting. At this point, I was greatly regretting my antics earlier. The caning had been quite hard, and I’d gotten a few on my thighs, making me cry out and whimper lots and lots. I wasn’t crying, but I was quite contrite and well thrashed feeling. The last two really “counted.” This is the way of the world when you earn extra strokes, I suppose. I considered going back to being an excessively good girl all the time, in order to avoid any more of these in the future. 😛

The scene ended with the two of us in the corner, then we had that semi-awkward moment where we broke character, then we giggled and hugged.

So much sweetness. 

The final noteworthy adventure at BBW took place IMMEDIATELY AFTER THIS, and much running around was involved to get from this adventure the next. The next was the “Adult Speaking” boat cruise, which was really, really fun. We had to change quickly and then basically teleport to the place where the bus was taking us to the dock, except that we can’t actually do that, so we had to run really quickly through a big hotel instead. But it was worth it! It was lots of fun to hang out on the boat, once we all eventually got there.

I like boats. I like boating. I grew up in Southern New Jersey on the coast, extremely close to where we were boating at the time, and I felt very, very at home. It was a wonderful feeling to be able to be being myself, totally and entirely while I was in my home setting. I spent time with each of the people who had come on the boat that was special to me. I had a couple of drinks. I had Pandora take photos of me climbing stairs in my sailor dress:


Then, of course, there was the customary “Drawbridge spanking” where everyone lines up and gets spanked in front of a drawbridge, while everyone in their cars can see us. I was slightly embarrassed by this idea, but I went for it anyway. Joe (drlectr) spanked me. I love Joe.

This is one of my all time favorite photos. 

That’s really all I have to say about the boat trip. I do want to share one more photo, because I feel that it’s a gem beyond compare. Here’s me and my darling twinsie, ellee, on the boat:

ellee looks so thoroughly spanked. I don’t look to pale myself!

This concludes my posting about BBW. Onward to further adventures! Thanks for your patience! I love you all!

5 Responses to Schoolgirls and sailors!

  • now u an take being spanked as sailor girl off your list you got another dream a reality now you alway have fun time even when getting spanked wish what you wanted anyhow bet feel day or week not over or good one untill bend over somebody lap being spanked

  • I love all your pictures. What a fun party! I’ve heard some tops pull out the B.S. excuse of tattling earning a spanking but it’s never MORE than the original troublemaker. Sounds like a case for Spanking Court.

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Oh, Hai!

Alex

Los Angeles, California, United States

First and foremost, I’m a girl who loves being spanked. It’s at the very center of my being. I’m also a professional spanking model, which means I get to do what I love for my job. I’m twenty six years old, and currently located in Los Angeles when I’m not traveling around on my adventures. My vanilla interests include poetry, film history, academia, Pokemon, indie music, baby animals, baking and cooking, collecting vintage clothes and lots of cuddling.

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