“They’re going home,
They’re going home,
They’re going,
England’s going home!”
Oh how I have come to regret those words. It’s one thing to be vocal in England about the chances of an opposing sporting team. It’s yet another when that team involves the words “Australia” and “cricket”. It is even worse when the Aussie delivering the teasing is a girl. But it is the final insult when said “sheila” brings the mockery in the words and tune of England’s default national anthem “Three Lions”. The non-Brits amongst you may not understand the nature of this offence, but suffice it to say that if there were a line drawn beyond which no sane man would cross, I should have been found far beyond both it and the horizon.
And now, just three short weeks after having teased my workmates mercilessly upon England’s almost certain departure from the CB series in Australia, the boys in blue (and red) had won four games, and a famous two-nil series win. England are now most certainly “going home”, but they are doing so with a rather hefty trophy in their suitcase, a spring in their collective steps, and a restored pride in themselves as the rightful champions of “the gentleman’s game”. As the Kiwis say, “Bugger!”
“Crease line on her skirt,
Kiwi girl now squealing!
England brings the hurt,
Aussie girl believing!”
Daniel’s retort in song on Monday morning was both public and smug. Not that the gathered crew of teachers in the staff lounge knew the direct significance of “crease lines” across my skirt, as far as I know Daniel and I have kept the secret of our “little wager” away from anyone who doesn’t need to know: he’s not told anyone, I’ve told only those who read Curtseygirl’s Blog. (So well done you!)
So, once again, to remind you all of what was at stake, and I know many of you don’t need reminding as you’ve been very keen to read “progress”. The bet was that for every wicket by which England beat Australia; Kirsten should receive three strokes of the cane. For every five runs (or part thereof, rounded up) Kirsten would receive one. There was agreed (thanks to all who voted) a “double or nothing”, which Daniel defined as cumulative. That is to say, England’s total winning margin, subtracting Australia’s winning margin across the best of three series, would be applied to Kirsten’s bent form in one delivery upon completion of all three games. Now as it was only two games were required; England winning both. The sentence was not reduced by any Australian victory margin in one of the games as, quite simply, Australia did not win. The final equation then read 4 wickets by three is twelve strokes from game one, and 32 runs divided by five, rounded up, is seven strokes from game two. The magic number then becomes nineteen.
Now, those of you who read my last match report, that of New Zealand’s final, unfortunate, defeat to England will know that Daniel and I miscounted the consequences for me. In short, he spanked me five times instead of three. We agreed that each of us was to blame for the lack of Mathematical acumen there, (we’re both Geography/History/Religion teachers), so we’d share the blame. Consequently the nineteen became eighteen.
And then the waiting. What with snow days in Hertfordshire taking out the last two days of school, then a week of half-term, I have had to wait almost ten days for my day of reckoning. And then, with Daniel teasing me, (ever so nicely, he’s not really the smug type), all day, it took until almost five o’clock for him to finally ring through.
16:42 GMT, Monday 19 th February 2007. The telephone rings on Miss Ellison’s desk. She is working on her interactive whiteboard setting up a map of Brazil and so must walk across the room to answer the phone, upon the seventh bell of its asking.
“Excuse me Miss Ellison, I’m sorry to disturb your preparation time. It’s Mr Roberts here. Would you be so kind as to join me in my classroom as I have a matter of twenty-first century history to discuss with you?”
A gulp. “Yes, of course sir, I shall be right through.”
Daniel Roberts’ classroom is across the hallway, and along it by three doors from Kirsten Ellison’s room, next door to the office they now share as subject coordinators for Humanities, he for History and Geography, she for Religious Education, although he retains the unique title of “Head of Humanities”. As Miss Ellison leaves her classroom, locking it behind her, she sees that his is the only light on in that part of the corridor, although the sun has not yet set and so there is still light coming through the windows. She feels something rising in her stomach, and is surprised to see that her hands are shaking and that she has clasped them in front of her. The clack of her boots upon the linoleum floor seems louder than ever it has before, but whether it is her sense of anticipation at what lies in Mr Roberts’ room, or merely the absence of noisy pupils that has caused this seeming overabundance of footfall, she is uncertain.
Yes, yes. So I’m no Agatha Christie or J.K Rowling. (You’ve been a very wicked witch, bend over Hermione!) And of course you want this in first person don’t you: the point of these accounts being that it’s all about “he spanked me” rather than “he spanked her”. So anyway, Daniel phoned through to me, (and yes I did call him sir, it’s all “sir” and “miss” at our school), and I went down to see him in his room. We had agreed that the eighteen strokes should be divided into twelve and six, (as they should have been twelve and seven, for the two games), and that the final six should be offered “distinctly”. I didn’t know what Daniel meant by that, but I knew that he’d have some dastardly, (but not horrible) scheme for it. I knew he was looking forward to this, (the fact of England winning through to the final, then winning 2-0, and emphatically so in each game had taken him as much by surprise as it had me), but I also knew that he was not interested in “punishing” me: believing as I do that there is nothing “naughty” about a woman who spent her girlhood in Hobart supporting an Australian sporting team, especially one captained by a fellow Tasmanian!
Daniel looked up at me from his desk and gave me a friendly smile as I entered. He was just finishing up marking some late homework, (due before half-term but handed in only today), and had only one thing left on the “to-do” list before going home. He likes to be out before five o’clock if possible, (as do I, since we both start at seven in the morning). He said to me “that was quick; I thought you were plotting Brazil.”
“I was, but the outline was already there, and I thought I’d let the supply teacher go interactive tomorrow as it’s in the first lesson he’s using the map. They’ll do it together, the class and him.”
“Who is it?”
“Nine Lower.”
“And why supply?”
“I’m going to that new RE coordinators’ inset. I’m away four days. It’s half term in London so they’re doing it this week. Sorry.”
“No, Miss Ellison, it’s not your fault.”
(I hate it when he does this. We both know why he’s called me in to his classroom, and he acts like it’s just teacher chat.)
“Fine. I’m done now,” he says, closing the last project book with a flourish. Then, (mercifully), he’s straight into it. “Eighteen? Twelve and six?”
I gulp, and look down at my hands. (What am I, ten years old?) I look up again and smile. “That was the arrangement Mr Roberts. Allow me to offer my congratulations to you and all concerned at the England and Wales Cricket Board for two very fine performances.”
“More than two Miss Ellison!”
“Two that bear tidings upon this afternoon.”
“Bear tidings? Are you sure you’re Australian?” He’s laughing now. “Do Australians bear anything?”
I smile, raise an eyebrow, curtsey (really!), and say, “only tidings this afternoon Mr Roberts. Nothing else shall be borne, nor bared.” I continue smiling at him, I feel like vomiting.
“Fair enough.” He gestures towards his desk, where he has cleared a space facing the pupils’ desks; a space he has designated for me to rest my arms and waist. A place for Kirsten to bend over for her days-overdue caning. I drop my smile slightly and walk confidently, (at least I hope it looked confident), across to the desk; and without further word from either of us I assume the position.
“Bend over,” he says to me.
I look back over my left shoulder at him. “I am.”
“Yeah, I know, but you didn’t let me say it.” I look forward and downward again. I see the name on the front of the project book he has just finished marking. The book belongs to one of the girls in my home-group. She had commented earlier upon how “I like your pretty tights, Miss,” and now I am wondering what would have caused her to miss the deadline for getting her work in before half-term when the first stroke connects with my skirt.
“Ow, shhh, mmp. Um, that’s one Daniel.”
“You don’t have to (whack!) count them today Kirsten.”
(whack)
Nothing else was said during my caning, just as well as I’d have not been able to remember it to translate for you now. I did however keep count in my head, there were indeed a neat dozen strokes; same rules as last time, him using his wooden metre ruler and me fully dressed.
“And now the last six Kirsten, you can stand up for a moment.” It took me a few minutes to do so, I was a bit out of breath, (and oddly enough, my bottom hurt rather!), but stand up I did. “For the last six I want you to pull your skirt up.”
“You have to be joking Daniel! That wasn’t part of the deal. This isn’t discipline, you can’t just do that.” I do have more faith in Daniel than that, I first met him six years ago at a school in Kent, and have known him for the last three years so I was sure he wasn’t just “trying it on”, but this was out of the ordinary. And I was rather a mess at this point, (think about it!).
“Just your skirt, and just for the final six. A bit of additional ‘double or nothing’ I thought it would at least be distinctive. But of course you can say no, it isn’t part of our original wager.” He looked worried. Again, he knows me well enough to know how far the boundaries can be pushed; indeed he knew I may well have turned on my heel and walked out of the room if I were truly offended.
But I didn’t do that, I smiled at him. “You’re a cheeky bugger, do you know that?”
“And I’d like to put you over my knee as well.”
“No, too far.” I took a step back, almost tripping over the front row of pupil desks. “Skirt up and over the desk: it serves me right after how long living in the United Kingdom to still be supporting the Antipodes.”
“Good girl, she speaks sense at last.”
And so it followed, I turned my back on Daniel, ruffled up my skirt a bit, and bent over his desk again, piling skirt up behind me. I had to lean a little further forward than I had done before, to stop my skirt tumbling back into place, which did put me in a rather unladylike pose, but it was either that or take my skirt off completely and that was not ever going to happen.
“I like your tights, very pretty.”
“Thank you Daniel, shall I have a pair sent across to you?”
(whack)
“Cheeky.”
(whack times five).
“And so it ends. Stand up Kirsten.”
I did so, pulling my skirt back down as I did.
I don’t suppose you’re terribly interested in the discussion which followed, we’re all just reading for the part where Kirsten gets punished, but suffice it to say Daniel and I parted as friends, (as we always do, every day), and with a firm agreement that Kirsten will NOT be repeating her wager with respect to the cricket world cup starting in the West Indies in a few weeks’ time.
Showing posts with label sport. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sport. Show all posts
Saturday, January 23, 2010
Dressing For Her Caning
Hello. I wrote this the morning of the return to school when I knew I was in for a caning after the end of the cricket. I leave it here as a reminder that I am a real person!
Dressing for her Caning.
Hello readership.
I am writing this on my laptop, sitting on my bed at 5:46 on Monday morning: just some random thoughts. Today school goes back in Hertfordshire, and of course my awaited meeting up with Daniel “I love cricket” Roberts, my good friend and subject leader. We all remember him don’t we? Yes Miss Ellison.
Which left me thinking, almost certain of my copping a right good hiding this evening, (he’ll make me wait until at least 4:30 when most of the other staff leave and the cleaners have been through), what do I wear today?
This isn’t some sort of “do I wear the black crotch-less panties or the red ones” voyeuristic piece of prose for any window-lickers out there looking for a cheap thrill, but a simple piece of insight into what this real woman, (rather than spanko-actress), is thinking about concerning her day. I hope that for all of you the fact that I am sharing some of my real thoughts and feelings with you will allow you to see me as a personality and not just a piece of mental fetish. Sorry if that sounds rude, but it is 5:51 in the morning and I’m still a bit tired. I do hope though, sincerely, that you value the fact that I am a real woman writing about her life: and that I have a life beyond getting spanked and writing about it.
But it’s that little part of this afternoon which does involve me receiving corporal punishment which is on my mind right now. So now the question, (for your homework, boys and girls, tee hee!): what does a working-girl wear to work when she knows the day will end with her being punished? What does she consider when she’s dressing for her caning?
-----
Okay, 6:36 now and I’m heading for the car. I discarded the idea of wearing trousers today, (I usually wear a skirt anyway), even though most of the women at school do. (The girl pupils only have skirts as a uniform option.) So, it’s Miss Ellison’s usual outfit of shin-high boots, on the knee skirt, blouse and jumper. My one concession to cheekiness is that I’ve borrowed a pair of Catherine’s “butterfly tights”. Black 40 denier with big butterflies on them in about 60 denier: I have no idea where she bought them, (sorry ladies, can’t help you there), but she does know I’ve borrowed them. (I didn’t tell her why.)
Sorry if this entry was a bit random, but I must admit to you all, I hope I can; I was thinking a bit after I sent you all “Finisagua”, (which is 99% truth), that I like being able to write about myself with you, rather than just the “mythical girl” who appears in each of my stories with some semblance of my name; but if I am to do that I want you to know a little but more about who I am: a real person with a real life who shares a common interest with some of you, and not a fictional character or a cartoon “avatar” to fantasise about.
Is that okay? Thank you for reading this, and all my stuff. I really hope you like it!
Dressing for her Caning.
Hello readership.
I am writing this on my laptop, sitting on my bed at 5:46 on Monday morning: just some random thoughts. Today school goes back in Hertfordshire, and of course my awaited meeting up with Daniel “I love cricket” Roberts, my good friend and subject leader. We all remember him don’t we? Yes Miss Ellison.
Which left me thinking, almost certain of my copping a right good hiding this evening, (he’ll make me wait until at least 4:30 when most of the other staff leave and the cleaners have been through), what do I wear today?
This isn’t some sort of “do I wear the black crotch-less panties or the red ones” voyeuristic piece of prose for any window-lickers out there looking for a cheap thrill, but a simple piece of insight into what this real woman, (rather than spanko-actress), is thinking about concerning her day. I hope that for all of you the fact that I am sharing some of my real thoughts and feelings with you will allow you to see me as a personality and not just a piece of mental fetish. Sorry if that sounds rude, but it is 5:51 in the morning and I’m still a bit tired. I do hope though, sincerely, that you value the fact that I am a real woman writing about her life: and that I have a life beyond getting spanked and writing about it.
But it’s that little part of this afternoon which does involve me receiving corporal punishment which is on my mind right now. So now the question, (for your homework, boys and girls, tee hee!): what does a working-girl wear to work when she knows the day will end with her being punished? What does she consider when she’s dressing for her caning?
-----
Okay, 6:36 now and I’m heading for the car. I discarded the idea of wearing trousers today, (I usually wear a skirt anyway), even though most of the women at school do. (The girl pupils only have skirts as a uniform option.) So, it’s Miss Ellison’s usual outfit of shin-high boots, on the knee skirt, blouse and jumper. My one concession to cheekiness is that I’ve borrowed a pair of Catherine’s “butterfly tights”. Black 40 denier with big butterflies on them in about 60 denier: I have no idea where she bought them, (sorry ladies, can’t help you there), but she does know I’ve borrowed them. (I didn’t tell her why.)
Sorry if this entry was a bit random, but I must admit to you all, I hope I can; I was thinking a bit after I sent you all “Finisagua”, (which is 99% truth), that I like being able to write about myself with you, rather than just the “mythical girl” who appears in each of my stories with some semblance of my name; but if I am to do that I want you to know a little but more about who I am: a real person with a real life who shares a common interest with some of you, and not a fictional character or a cartoon “avatar” to fantasise about.
Is that okay? Thank you for reading this, and all my stuff. I really hope you like it!
Kirsten backs the cricket
Hello, these are the original accounts of me getting smacked over a bet I made for the 2006-07 cricket series in Australia. Episode four is the story "Cricket Brat" which is further back in my blog.
Kirsten's First Spanking for 2007
I’ve never posted a “log” of spanking before, and don’t intend to make a habit of it, but I thought since I’m currently making so many new friends so quickly I’d give you an indication of who I am by telling you about last week.
One of the men at my school, another teacher, named Daniel, is cricket-mad. Anyway, being the proud Australian/New Zealander woman that I am I rashly made a bet with him that following Australia’s 5-0 thrashing of England in the Ashes tests, that England would not win a single match of the one day cricket tournament to be played in January and February. Should England win a game, these were to be the consequences:
Australia loses: Kirsten gets a caning.
New Zealand loses: Kirsten gets a spanking.
One smack for each five runs England wins by
(1-5 runs = 1 smack, 6-10 runs = 2 smacks, and so on),
Or
Three smacks for each wicket England wins by.
Well of course it happened, England defeated New Zealand by three wickets in Hobart last week, (and my father was actually at the game). The result came through around 7:30 am London time and Daniel and I were in our (neighbouring) classrooms setting up for the day: he was listening to the game on Radio Five. (That’s BBC for those of you not in England.) Since it was so early there weren’t many other people around, certainly no pupils, so we took advantage of Daniel’s excitement at England finally winning in Australia, (even if it was against New Zealand), to make the transaction on the spot.
Consequently, Miss Ellison began the day with rather a sting in her tail following nine rather hard spanks from her colleague’s hand, delivered over his knee and to the seat of her skirt at the front of his classroom. I didn’t cry, (there were only nine of them after all), but I did squeal a bit.
Happily for me Australia remains undefeated, and I remain un-caned; but I’m sure you’ll all be paying attention to the scoreboard from now on, and thinking of me when England win again!
Kirsten's Second Spanking: The Caning of Curtseygirl
"Meet Australian girls, their ancestors were British convicts so they enjoy being flogged."
Well at the last possible moment it happened, Australia lost to England after several enormously satisfying beltings by the local side. I thought my bottom was safe for another eighteen months, but no, the final match in Sydney and England beat Australia by 92 runs.
And Daniel beat Kirsten by nineteen strokes, (92 divided by 5 and rounded up).
The stated outcome had been "caning", but as I said to Joe in my blog comment, English schools don't keep such equipment around any more and so the metre ruler was employed for said beating. The game finished during school time, so I had to wait the whole day for it, until almost four thirty in the evening. At that point Daniel rang through to me and I joined him in his classroom where he asked me to bend over his desk. I did so, and received nineteen of the hardest smacks I've ever received. Even though it was "fun spanking" I know Daniel was looking forward to it and he made it worth his while. Not just the idea of caning a rather attractive young woman, first asking her to bend over his desk, but the fact that it was Kirsten, the cheeky Antipodean who had been "sinking the boot in" concerning his ridiculous cricket team.
So yes, I did cry, and make a bit of noise. (And yes, he did ask me to count them aloud, cheeky bugger.) I was fully dressed with woolen skirt, tights, knickers all in place, but if you've never experienced it ladies (and gentlemen) I can assure you that nineteen of the best with a metre ruler is still a rather painful experience, even through clothing. I feel suitably chastised even this morning, and there is still one match of England versus New Zealand to go, and of course the possibility of another spanking. Should that happen, and England make the final, then thereis a best-of-three finals series of Australia vs England, I don't want to think about that.
I promise I will not be so rash as to make such a "bet" in future. I still think there's nothing "naughty" about a girl born in Auckland and raised in Hobart supporting her home nations against England - discipline not required - but even a "fun" spanking cannot be entered into lightly with a frustrated Englishman who loves his cricket.
C'mon Aussie!
Kirsten's Third Spanking.
Daniel, and the dictionary he employs in class, defines spanking as a striking upon the buttocks in punishment, employing a flat object. Following New Zealand's fourteen run loss to England in Brisbane today, and consequent entry into the finals series against Australia, Daniel felt that the necessary spanking (five smacks) required more than an open hand. Consequently I spent a short period of my lunch hour bent over his knee to receive five hard smacks with a paddle of the sort used in indoor tennis or whatever it is kids do with such things.
So once again Miss Ellison is going home with a sore bottom tonight, but not until after the staffmeeting. I'm here until almost six tonight, sitting on my spanked behind, listening to inservice training on Assessment for Learning. Hooray, at least the seats are cushioned. (And to be fair, only five smacks with a paddle doesn't leave that much of a sting. It still hurt though.)
So now England are through to the best of three finals series with Australia. Daniel wants me to bet "double or quit" on the result, double punishment if England win a game, or both to win the series. I'm not sure what the quit part is though, do I get to cane him if Australia wins? What do you all think?
Kirsten's First Spanking for 2007
I’ve never posted a “log” of spanking before, and don’t intend to make a habit of it, but I thought since I’m currently making so many new friends so quickly I’d give you an indication of who I am by telling you about last week.
One of the men at my school, another teacher, named Daniel, is cricket-mad. Anyway, being the proud Australian/New Zealander woman that I am I rashly made a bet with him that following Australia’s 5-0 thrashing of England in the Ashes tests, that England would not win a single match of the one day cricket tournament to be played in January and February. Should England win a game, these were to be the consequences:
Australia loses: Kirsten gets a caning.
New Zealand loses: Kirsten gets a spanking.
One smack for each five runs England wins by
(1-5 runs = 1 smack, 6-10 runs = 2 smacks, and so on),
Or
Three smacks for each wicket England wins by.
Well of course it happened, England defeated New Zealand by three wickets in Hobart last week, (and my father was actually at the game). The result came through around 7:30 am London time and Daniel and I were in our (neighbouring) classrooms setting up for the day: he was listening to the game on Radio Five. (That’s BBC for those of you not in England.) Since it was so early there weren’t many other people around, certainly no pupils, so we took advantage of Daniel’s excitement at England finally winning in Australia, (even if it was against New Zealand), to make the transaction on the spot.
Consequently, Miss Ellison began the day with rather a sting in her tail following nine rather hard spanks from her colleague’s hand, delivered over his knee and to the seat of her skirt at the front of his classroom. I didn’t cry, (there were only nine of them after all), but I did squeal a bit.
Happily for me Australia remains undefeated, and I remain un-caned; but I’m sure you’ll all be paying attention to the scoreboard from now on, and thinking of me when England win again!
Kirsten's Second Spanking: The Caning of Curtseygirl
"Meet Australian girls, their ancestors were British convicts so they enjoy being flogged."
Well at the last possible moment it happened, Australia lost to England after several enormously satisfying beltings by the local side. I thought my bottom was safe for another eighteen months, but no, the final match in Sydney and England beat Australia by 92 runs.
And Daniel beat Kirsten by nineteen strokes, (92 divided by 5 and rounded up).
The stated outcome had been "caning", but as I said to Joe in my blog comment, English schools don't keep such equipment around any more and so the metre ruler was employed for said beating. The game finished during school time, so I had to wait the whole day for it, until almost four thirty in the evening. At that point Daniel rang through to me and I joined him in his classroom where he asked me to bend over his desk. I did so, and received nineteen of the hardest smacks I've ever received. Even though it was "fun spanking" I know Daniel was looking forward to it and he made it worth his while. Not just the idea of caning a rather attractive young woman, first asking her to bend over his desk, but the fact that it was Kirsten, the cheeky Antipodean who had been "sinking the boot in" concerning his ridiculous cricket team.
So yes, I did cry, and make a bit of noise. (And yes, he did ask me to count them aloud, cheeky bugger.) I was fully dressed with woolen skirt, tights, knickers all in place, but if you've never experienced it ladies (and gentlemen) I can assure you that nineteen of the best with a metre ruler is still a rather painful experience, even through clothing. I feel suitably chastised even this morning, and there is still one match of England versus New Zealand to go, and of course the possibility of another spanking. Should that happen, and England make the final, then thereis a best-of-three finals series of Australia vs England, I don't want to think about that.
I promise I will not be so rash as to make such a "bet" in future. I still think there's nothing "naughty" about a girl born in Auckland and raised in Hobart supporting her home nations against England - discipline not required - but even a "fun" spanking cannot be entered into lightly with a frustrated Englishman who loves his cricket.
C'mon Aussie!
Kirsten's Third Spanking.
Daniel, and the dictionary he employs in class, defines spanking as a striking upon the buttocks in punishment, employing a flat object. Following New Zealand's fourteen run loss to England in Brisbane today, and consequent entry into the finals series against Australia, Daniel felt that the necessary spanking (five smacks) required more than an open hand. Consequently I spent a short period of my lunch hour bent over his knee to receive five hard smacks with a paddle of the sort used in indoor tennis or whatever it is kids do with such things.
So once again Miss Ellison is going home with a sore bottom tonight, but not until after the staffmeeting. I'm here until almost six tonight, sitting on my spanked behind, listening to inservice training on Assessment for Learning. Hooray, at least the seats are cushioned. (And to be fair, only five smacks with a paddle doesn't leave that much of a sting. It still hurt though.)
So now England are through to the best of three finals series with Australia. Daniel wants me to bet "double or quit" on the result, double punishment if England win a game, or both to win the series. I'm not sure what the quit part is though, do I get to cane him if Australia wins? What do you all think?
Kirsten backs the Blacks
During 2007's Rugby World Cup I was quite vocal in support of my best beloved New Zealand All Blacks, and made a few entries to that effect. Sadly things didn't quite work out the way they should have done and my boys were knocked out in the Quarter Finals.
Aotearoa: ka ora!
Kiaora!
(Come The Day and Come The Hour...)
Sorry I'm a bit late in getting to you, but what with school starting on the same week as the World Cup well, you know, "how much can a koala bear?"
So here, in summary, is the position:
1. New Zealand WILL win the Rugby World Cup this year, in fact New Zealand are so good they will, statistically speaking, come second as well, so far are they ahead of the rest of the world.
2. If New Zealand doesn't win, then either Australia or Ireland has to.
3. Sadly there are no spank-related bets with my Line Manager at school riding on this competition, although what with me having a few Rugby-mad girlmates from Scotland and RSA in my world right now you can imagine we do have some naughty things planned for those ladies whose teams don't win: (everyone except Kirstie). I do also have Aussie mates I've not told you much of, and of course the Irish cousins are involved too. I'll let you know how it all works out, and whether I can find girls across London and the Home Counties to support other teams. Five spanks per try scored against, who wants to be Japan? :-)
I'll not be commenting much on this all after now, I'm very very busy at school, but I thought it only polite to tell you where I am. So, well done so far to the lovely boys from home, also to the Wallabies, (who appeared to be wearing bras on Saturday, but I suppose when you play a team called "The Heroic Blossoms" these things happen), to RSA, England, and Namibia. Okay so Ireland actually won, but the Nibs played well and good on them for that.
Oh, and I am working on two new stories for you all, my lovelies, right now. One story was inspired by the lovely Tiny Miranda, the other is an Ellison Original and set in New Zealand.
Oh, and for those of you who don't speak Maori, the heading basically means "New Zealand, we're alive."
Whiti te Ra!
Allez les Noirs!
God defend New Zealand
So New Zealand have just defeated Portugal by almost 100 points, it looks dire for Ms House as Scotland now have to score that much this week to avoid her receiving a spanking from Miss Ellison: as per the arrangement.
And yes, I got mine! After New Zealand did not defeat Italy by as many points as Scotland scored against Portugal last weekend Kirsten had to make up the difference with a trip to lap-land, specifically Catherine's lap and the naughty end of a hairbrush. Skirt and underwear in place, but it was nice to be OTK again, even for such a short visit. It's been a while.
Thanks to all who are making comments on both blog and message to World Cup effect, I seem to have been ignoring the 20/20 cricket in South Africa, but when it comes to sport it is always Rugby first for Miss Ellison: especially since Australia is slapping Wales about the four corners of Caerdydd as we speak. Advance Australia Fair!
Well done Springboks: I have been supporting England (since I live in England, and with an Englishman) but to be honest I expected RSA to win. (Of course, they're Southern Hemispehere!) I spoke to Hanie DeKievert on the phone this morning and she was very pleased, we're meeting for coffee in Soho tomorrow after church, I shall of course pass on everyone's good wishes.
Good news: the story I wrote for Miranda is nearly ready to show you all, now just the one from Auckland, and maybe a new one for Foxy Geraldine if she agrees to it. Curtseygirl is waiting her turn online, as soon as Kirsten is finished with strutting about in her black top the stories will be back.
Enjoy your weekend my truly lovelies.
Kiwirsten (Webb) Ellis-on
All Black and Blue
So, who saw the mistake? I cannot believe that for the second time in a sporting bet I have been let down by my very poor Maths skills. Foxy is right to question whether the introduction of the cane for inept teachers might not be warranted.
Vis:
New Zealand defeat Italy by 76 points to 14: a 52 point victory, wheras Scotland score 56 points on Portugal. Since Kirsten has bet Catherine that New Zealand will outscore their opposition to a greater margin than Scotland will score in total, the penalty being spanks, Catherine then delivers four hard smacks of the hairbrush to the seat of Kirsten's upturned skirt, 56-52= 4.
Fair? Yes, until Kirsten this morning realises, two days after receiving her spanking, that New Zealand actually defeated Italy by 62 points, not 52 (76-14=62). Far from receiving four spanks FROM Catherine, Kirsten should have been giving six spanks TO Catherine.
And Catherine, smarty smarty Maths-type Scotty girl, knew all along!
This following on from my disasterous Cricket Brat bets with Daniel Roberts whereby we both had 15 divided by 5 as 5 (rather than 3) and Kirsten receiving two extra spanks for an England victory over New Zealand.
So, answers on a postcard, or better yet just vote below.
As you can imagine, I was very giggly when I worked this out, that cheeky little Kiltygirl. I rang her at work and she burst out laughing on the phone. Rest assured this matter will be dealt with!
(C'mon Italy!!!)
Scotland the Brave
Even I can subtract zero from forty. It's forty.
I can also subtract forty-two (Scotland against Romania) from ninety-five (New Zealand over Portugal): 95-42= 53. (Okay so I checked that one with a calculator.)
I can also add, 53+40=93. Plus six more owed from before, (I'll wear the four given in error as my own fault). Ms Catherine Margaret House: come on down for NINETY-NINE spanks.
Now here is where it got tricky, I've never been a big fan of those stories/images/ideas where girls are flogged so much, for me the maximum is the twenty-four of the strap that Catherine and I used to get from our Paul if we were ever "proper-naughty": so that is what we went for.
1. For tricking Kirsten, Catherine got her initial six with the strap. (From Kirsten.)
2. For the Portugal/Romania games, Catherine got twenty-four very hard ones on the bare with Kirsten's hairbrush, over Kirsten's knee. She also has to wash Kirsten's car next Saturday, and do all Kirsten's ironing. (Thanks for the idea Foxy.)
3. For the head-to head we forewent (foregoed?) the bet and settled on the usual "six of the best from the winner to the loser", which is the bet involving the girls at school. So Catherine got six across her skirt with Kirsten's ruler, and yes I made her come out to Hatfield and to school this afternoon to get it.
(Yes, poor Sarah did get six of the best from Hanie following the England vs RSA game last week.)
Thanks for your interest everyone, normal Curtseygirl service will resume in late October, but at the moment Kirsten is watching her lovely All Blacks and that takes priority.
(By the way, thanks to the Aussies who have asked, yes I do follow the AFL like a Tasmanian girl should, I am even more passionate about it than rugby since we do actually have Aussie Rules in Hobart and I used to go to games with my dad when I was little. We support Hawthorn, sadly they were knocked out in the semi-finals so we will barrack for Geelong against Port Adelaide for the Grand Final.)
Now, what about Scotland/Italy and New Zealand/Romania? "Kitty Hoose" is already weeping quietly into her pillows. I'm not that scary am I? (Anyone who says yes will have chalk chucked at them, isn't that right R?)
Whiti te ra,
Kirsten.
God Save The Team
The time has come,
A fact’s a fact,
It belongs to them,
We’re gonna give it back,
(BAM! BAM! BAM!)
How can we dance when our Earth is turning?
How do we sleep while our beds are burning?
(Beds are Burning. Midnight Oil.)
So yes, Ka Mate! indeed. (Ka mate means “I’m dead” in Maori) Nya Zullen (New Sullen?) is out of the RWC, along with Australia: but England is still there.
So, the big question which you all want to ask, did Kirsten get spanked?
Ha ha, did she ever!
1. Kirsten graciously offered Sarah (England) that if Australia lost Kirsten, Kiwi that she is, would accept spanking for it. Jasmine (Aussie) would get the prescribed six strokes of the ruler, but Kirsten would get six OTK slaps. Kirsten got six OTK slaps.
2. No French girls in the bet, so no-one to give Kirsten her well deserved six with the ruler. Or so one would think. Enter Elisabeth, who is German but TEACHES FRENCH, and hits like an Aussie batsman. Ouch bro!
3. Scotland, despite losing to Argentina, still scored more in doing so than New Zealand’s winning margin. (Obviously, since New Zealand lost.) So, Kirsten got a spank for each of Scotland’s points, plus two for the deficit against France, OCK, (over Catie’s knee) at home on Sunday night.
And now, with Australia and New Zealand both out of the competition, Jasmine and Kirsten both get six more spanks if either England or South Africa win their semi-finals! Since both will win, that’s twelve more smacks for Miss E come next Monday morning.
Stupid bloody bent ref…I hate Cardiff.
Seriously, well done to each of England, France, South Africa and Argentina, and also to Fiji and Scotland for making it so far. All four are worthy semi-finalists.
Now: who to support, RSA for my best mate, or England for where I live? I'll support both this week, and let you know when they reach the finals.
Kx.
Nkosi Sikelel' iAfrika
Kiaora,
So it's down to the final two, and not the two I wanted. For the first time I don't have a homeland to support in the RWC final: either Australia or New Zealand have played in one of the matches so far, (but never both at once).
So, here in blog form, as well as in comment, is the declaration.
I think South Africa will win.
I want England to win.
(It's not that I want South Africa to lose, but I live in England and it would be nice for the local side to defy the odds and win it again.) (Besides which, England are so CRAP at FOOTBALL we need to give them something.)
In other news it was National Stockings Day today in the United Kingdom, apparently a fundraiser for Breast Cancer research. More likely, since noone was actually collecting money that I saw, it was just another excuse to print images of scantily clad women across the nation's newspapers for the benefit of Solcredulists and the working classes, (ie men who buy Daily Sport ). At least Daily Sport had a pretty Aussie on the front today: Emily Scott. I know this because I confiscated a copy of said "newspaper" from one of the boys in Upper Eight. (Which makes a change from last week when the SAME boy had pictures of Jennifer Ellison in his locker. She's a pretty girl, but the idea of a boy having a Ms Ellison on his wall is not one that sits well with me. Daniel Roberts, my colleague, thinks it most amusing.)
(Besides which, I'm MISS Ellison so what's my fricken problem?)
I hope all you ladies of Britain got into the spirit of the day, but kept your garters to yourselves. (As I did.)
I am away next week again: sorry to miss you all, I promise you a new story soon. But in the meantime I feel it my duty (and relief) to tell you that all bets are OFF in the rugby. We are all so impressed that England has made the final that even if they lose there will be no spanking for anyone who is English or supports the England team. Naturally this means it's a bit unfair to spank Hanie DeKievert if the Boks actually lose, but since RSA have played so well, (better than anyone else) it's fair enough.
So, ha HA: bad luck spankos, there's nothing for you here!
(Let's just hope Curtseygirl's new stories make up for it.)
Enjoy your weekends and weeks ahead my lovelies, and be good girls and boys for your teachers.
Smooch!
Aotearoa: ka ora!
Kiaora!
(Come The Day and Come The Hour...)
Sorry I'm a bit late in getting to you, but what with school starting on the same week as the World Cup well, you know, "how much can a koala bear?"
So here, in summary, is the position:
1. New Zealand WILL win the Rugby World Cup this year, in fact New Zealand are so good they will, statistically speaking, come second as well, so far are they ahead of the rest of the world.
2. If New Zealand doesn't win, then either Australia or Ireland has to.
3. Sadly there are no spank-related bets with my Line Manager at school riding on this competition, although what with me having a few Rugby-mad girlmates from Scotland and RSA in my world right now you can imagine we do have some naughty things planned for those ladies whose teams don't win: (everyone except Kirstie). I do also have Aussie mates I've not told you much of, and of course the Irish cousins are involved too. I'll let you know how it all works out, and whether I can find girls across London and the Home Counties to support other teams. Five spanks per try scored against, who wants to be Japan? :-)
I'll not be commenting much on this all after now, I'm very very busy at school, but I thought it only polite to tell you where I am. So, well done so far to the lovely boys from home, also to the Wallabies, (who appeared to be wearing bras on Saturday, but I suppose when you play a team called "The Heroic Blossoms" these things happen), to RSA, England, and Namibia. Okay so Ireland actually won, but the Nibs played well and good on them for that.
Oh, and I am working on two new stories for you all, my lovelies, right now. One story was inspired by the lovely Tiny Miranda, the other is an Ellison Original and set in New Zealand.
Oh, and for those of you who don't speak Maori, the heading basically means "New Zealand, we're alive."
Whiti te Ra!
Allez les Noirs!
God defend New Zealand
So New Zealand have just defeated Portugal by almost 100 points, it looks dire for Ms House as Scotland now have to score that much this week to avoid her receiving a spanking from Miss Ellison: as per the arrangement.
And yes, I got mine! After New Zealand did not defeat Italy by as many points as Scotland scored against Portugal last weekend Kirsten had to make up the difference with a trip to lap-land, specifically Catherine's lap and the naughty end of a hairbrush. Skirt and underwear in place, but it was nice to be OTK again, even for such a short visit. It's been a while.
Thanks to all who are making comments on both blog and message to World Cup effect, I seem to have been ignoring the 20/20 cricket in South Africa, but when it comes to sport it is always Rugby first for Miss Ellison: especially since Australia is slapping Wales about the four corners of Caerdydd as we speak. Advance Australia Fair!
Well done Springboks: I have been supporting England (since I live in England, and with an Englishman) but to be honest I expected RSA to win. (Of course, they're Southern Hemispehere!) I spoke to Hanie DeKievert on the phone this morning and she was very pleased, we're meeting for coffee in Soho tomorrow after church, I shall of course pass on everyone's good wishes.
Good news: the story I wrote for Miranda is nearly ready to show you all, now just the one from Auckland, and maybe a new one for Foxy Geraldine if she agrees to it. Curtseygirl is waiting her turn online, as soon as Kirsten is finished with strutting about in her black top the stories will be back.
Enjoy your weekend my truly lovelies.
Kiwirsten (Webb) Ellis-on
All Black and Blue
So, who saw the mistake? I cannot believe that for the second time in a sporting bet I have been let down by my very poor Maths skills. Foxy is right to question whether the introduction of the cane for inept teachers might not be warranted.
Vis:
New Zealand defeat Italy by 76 points to 14: a 52 point victory, wheras Scotland score 56 points on Portugal. Since Kirsten has bet Catherine that New Zealand will outscore their opposition to a greater margin than Scotland will score in total, the penalty being spanks, Catherine then delivers four hard smacks of the hairbrush to the seat of Kirsten's upturned skirt, 56-52= 4.
Fair? Yes, until Kirsten this morning realises, two days after receiving her spanking, that New Zealand actually defeated Italy by 62 points, not 52 (76-14=62). Far from receiving four spanks FROM Catherine, Kirsten should have been giving six spanks TO Catherine.
And Catherine, smarty smarty Maths-type Scotty girl, knew all along!
This following on from my disasterous Cricket Brat bets with Daniel Roberts whereby we both had 15 divided by 5 as 5 (rather than 3) and Kirsten receiving two extra spanks for an England victory over New Zealand.
So, answers on a postcard, or better yet just vote below.
As you can imagine, I was very giggly when I worked this out, that cheeky little Kiltygirl. I rang her at work and she burst out laughing on the phone. Rest assured this matter will be dealt with!
(C'mon Italy!!!)
Scotland the Brave
Even I can subtract zero from forty. It's forty.
I can also subtract forty-two (Scotland against Romania) from ninety-five (New Zealand over Portugal): 95-42= 53. (Okay so I checked that one with a calculator.)
I can also add, 53+40=93. Plus six more owed from before, (I'll wear the four given in error as my own fault). Ms Catherine Margaret House: come on down for NINETY-NINE spanks.
Now here is where it got tricky, I've never been a big fan of those stories/images/ideas where girls are flogged so much, for me the maximum is the twenty-four of the strap that Catherine and I used to get from our Paul if we were ever "proper-naughty": so that is what we went for.
1. For tricking Kirsten, Catherine got her initial six with the strap. (From Kirsten.)
2. For the Portugal/Romania games, Catherine got twenty-four very hard ones on the bare with Kirsten's hairbrush, over Kirsten's knee. She also has to wash Kirsten's car next Saturday, and do all Kirsten's ironing. (Thanks for the idea Foxy.)
3. For the head-to head we forewent (foregoed?) the bet and settled on the usual "six of the best from the winner to the loser", which is the bet involving the girls at school. So Catherine got six across her skirt with Kirsten's ruler, and yes I made her come out to Hatfield and to school this afternoon to get it.
(Yes, poor Sarah did get six of the best from Hanie following the England vs RSA game last week.)
Thanks for your interest everyone, normal Curtseygirl service will resume in late October, but at the moment Kirsten is watching her lovely All Blacks and that takes priority.
(By the way, thanks to the Aussies who have asked, yes I do follow the AFL like a Tasmanian girl should, I am even more passionate about it than rugby since we do actually have Aussie Rules in Hobart and I used to go to games with my dad when I was little. We support Hawthorn, sadly they were knocked out in the semi-finals so we will barrack for Geelong against Port Adelaide for the Grand Final.)
Now, what about Scotland/Italy and New Zealand/Romania? "Kitty Hoose" is already weeping quietly into her pillows. I'm not that scary am I? (Anyone who says yes will have chalk chucked at them, isn't that right R?)
Whiti te ra,
Kirsten.
God Save The Team
The time has come,
A fact’s a fact,
It belongs to them,
We’re gonna give it back,
(BAM! BAM! BAM!)
How can we dance when our Earth is turning?
How do we sleep while our beds are burning?
(Beds are Burning. Midnight Oil.)
So yes, Ka Mate! indeed. (Ka mate means “I’m dead” in Maori) Nya Zullen (New Sullen?) is out of the RWC, along with Australia: but England is still there.
So, the big question which you all want to ask, did Kirsten get spanked?
Ha ha, did she ever!
1. Kirsten graciously offered Sarah (England) that if Australia lost Kirsten, Kiwi that she is, would accept spanking for it. Jasmine (Aussie) would get the prescribed six strokes of the ruler, but Kirsten would get six OTK slaps. Kirsten got six OTK slaps.
2. No French girls in the bet, so no-one to give Kirsten her well deserved six with the ruler. Or so one would think. Enter Elisabeth, who is German but TEACHES FRENCH, and hits like an Aussie batsman. Ouch bro!
3. Scotland, despite losing to Argentina, still scored more in doing so than New Zealand’s winning margin. (Obviously, since New Zealand lost.) So, Kirsten got a spank for each of Scotland’s points, plus two for the deficit against France, OCK, (over Catie’s knee) at home on Sunday night.
And now, with Australia and New Zealand both out of the competition, Jasmine and Kirsten both get six more spanks if either England or South Africa win their semi-finals! Since both will win, that’s twelve more smacks for Miss E come next Monday morning.
Stupid bloody bent ref…I hate Cardiff.
Seriously, well done to each of England, France, South Africa and Argentina, and also to Fiji and Scotland for making it so far. All four are worthy semi-finalists.
Now: who to support, RSA for my best mate, or England for where I live? I'll support both this week, and let you know when they reach the finals.
Kx.
Nkosi Sikelel' iAfrika
Kiaora,
So it's down to the final two, and not the two I wanted. For the first time I don't have a homeland to support in the RWC final: either Australia or New Zealand have played in one of the matches so far, (but never both at once).
So, here in blog form, as well as in comment, is the declaration.
I think South Africa will win.
I want England to win.
(It's not that I want South Africa to lose, but I live in England and it would be nice for the local side to defy the odds and win it again.) (Besides which, England are so CRAP at FOOTBALL we need to give them something.)
In other news it was National Stockings Day today in the United Kingdom, apparently a fundraiser for Breast Cancer research. More likely, since noone was actually collecting money that I saw, it was just another excuse to print images of scantily clad women across the nation's newspapers for the benefit of Solcredulists and the working classes, (ie men who buy Daily Sport ). At least Daily Sport had a pretty Aussie on the front today: Emily Scott. I know this because I confiscated a copy of said "newspaper" from one of the boys in Upper Eight. (Which makes a change from last week when the SAME boy had pictures of Jennifer Ellison in his locker. She's a pretty girl, but the idea of a boy having a Ms Ellison on his wall is not one that sits well with me. Daniel Roberts, my colleague, thinks it most amusing.)
(Besides which, I'm MISS Ellison so what's my fricken problem?)
I hope all you ladies of Britain got into the spirit of the day, but kept your garters to yourselves. (As I did.)
I am away next week again: sorry to miss you all, I promise you a new story soon. But in the meantime I feel it my duty (and relief) to tell you that all bets are OFF in the rugby. We are all so impressed that England has made the final that even if they lose there will be no spanking for anyone who is English or supports the England team. Naturally this means it's a bit unfair to spank Hanie DeKievert if the Boks actually lose, but since RSA have played so well, (better than anyone else) it's fair enough.
So, ha HA: bad luck spankos, there's nothing for you here!
(Let's just hope Curtseygirl's new stories make up for it.)
Enjoy your weekends and weeks ahead my lovelies, and be good girls and boys for your teachers.
Smooch!
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