Kirsten Ellison: Robot in Disguise

I wrote this after a time of self-reflection and self-discovery as I planned to retire from writing on Yahoo-360. Again it is a true account.

I often wonder whether, like Dame Nellie Melba, I will get used to retiring. I have already done it once; back in April 2007 I signed off with “Update: The Story of Miss Ellison” when I was promoted to the position I fill now at school. I am Behaviour Support Teacher, and writer of units for our Humanities Core combined KS3 programme which incorporates Geography, History and Religious Education. I am Head of RE at school. I am also coordinator of assemblies, which task I share with our school’s chaplain.

And now here I am again, preparing to say good-bye, but intending to make it permanent this time. I had always hoped in April that I would be back in August; as it was I was back in July, and over-eager to impress you all I ended up with some lovely stories, but a very sore bottom!

I suppose “Lap of Honour” has an entirely new connotation when it comes to the final cycle of the moon in one’s own spanking blog, (as indeed does, “cycle of the moon”), but I trust you will allow me a Victory Lap before I head inside my office and take on the business of queening my college.

I am a woman of mixed emotions at this time.

I am so bubbling pleased to be asked to take on the brand new Assistant Headteacher role at my school, I am replacing two (count them, 1,2) Deputy Headteachers. As I have said to those who have asked this is not so much a promotion, I am already doing about 85% of the work required, it’s more of a recognition that I AM ALREADY doing about 85% of the work required, so it makes more sense to give me a bigger desk and a smaller teaching load so as to facilitate this. And of course it comes with a groovy title for my nametag, and a few more numbers in my cheque. Everyone I talk to, or read from, is so pleased for me, (and pleased with me, so it seems): I feel much loved.

However; certain things must go, three steps forward and two steps back it isn’t, but it will be three laborious steps forward if I don’t drop some weight from my shoulders. But I don’t want to. And it’s making me irritable. Not that I’m become bitchy, I’m just “obviously not happy about something”. I don’t WANT to give up teaching in the classroom altogether, (which I will do, working only with senior tutorial groups now, and the occasional day of emergency cover), and I don’t WANT to give up Curtseygirl, (which I will do as she is such a distraction). It’s not that Curtseygirl writes naughty things, (she doesn’t), it’s that she’s constantly inventing stuff which gets in the way of the task at hand...running a school. It’s as it was in April:

You’re on the road, but you’ve got no destination,/You’re in the mud, in the maze of her imagination.

Baby’s got blue skies up ahead,/But in this I’m a raincloud.

I don’t have time, or energy, for her. And it is really getting me down.

Or at least it was, until I went cruising 360 on Sunday after church (!!), specifically looking up the collective mates of Julie and Sly, when I found an entry by Sarah W on Transformational Spanking. I read it, read it again, showed it to my friend Catie, who also read it. Then we talked about it, for a long time. I won’t bother offering you a précis of it, go read for yourself, (sorry I’m too much of a girl to give you a hyperlink here , follow her through her comment on my top-page and scroll her blog to Entry for April 30 th 2007 -Transformational Spanking), as I know you’ve read this far for one of two reasons:

a) You love and care for our dear Kirsten Louisa and want to know how this all turns out for her.

b) You want to get to the spanking part and it must be coming up soon as Curtseygirl’s been rabbiting on for a while now.

So then we went for it: bigtime.

I don’t get spanked for punishment. Not really. Last year I got the strap, (which is punishment in our house, we don’t use it for fun) four times. Four, for the whole of 2006. This year I have had it once: in February, (see A Bad Day For The Curtseygirl). I have been spanked, and even caned, for things I thought naughty...but I asked for this verbally. No, when I am spanked it is for fun, and for stress release.

The article on Transformational Spanking describes how an additional spanking is given to a woman who is not learning from her current level of discipline. She’s getting a sore bottom, but she’s still being naughty: one solution offered is to spank harder, for longer. As a Behaviouralist I’m not sure this is always the best way, if a discipline isn’t working then try a different discipline; but as a woman who likes a few calming smacks herself I wondered whether a transformational session might be what I need to deal with my higher level of stress and anxiety right now. As the article states:

Sometimes a woman needs to be given a spanking that has a more pronounced effect than the ones she usually receives... A Transformational Discipline is a discipline that goes beyond a normal spanking and transforms the woman. It is a spanking that creates some kind of quantum leap in her behaviour, her attitude and her understanding. It is a discipline that gives her a total emotional, spiritual and moral makeover. This is a Transformational Discipline.

Primarily such spanking will snap a “brat” out of herself, the idea is to make her more submissive, it is to be avoided “at all costs”, it is the sort of spanking a woman does NOT want to receive.

But I am not a brat.

Sometimes I play like that, my cricket and rugby stories are prime examples of it, and if you ask most of my 360 friends, (particularly the boys) they will tell you how cheeky I can be in text; but for the most part I am respectful and honest and kind and compassionate. I am a good girl, and proud to be so. (I am called curtsey girl after all.)

But I am a psychopath.

One of my friends offered me a little piece of humour a few days ago, I hope you get the joke. He said to me “Kirstie, have you heard about the new film about New Zealanders on Prozac?” When I told him I had not, he offered, “Yeah it’s great, it’s called Once were Worriers.”) Oh how lovely it would be to be a “once were” and no longer a “worrier”. (And I am a New Zealander after all...or at least I “once were”.)

And my current “level of spanking” isn’t sufficient for my current “level of psychopathology”.

So, in the model and spirit, if not necessarily the ideal, of Transformational Discipline, I stepped it up a level. Again to the article:

Women often complain that their spankings do not last long enough for them to be brought to tears properly....These tears may take longer to start flowing, but once they have begun, they will last much longer because the woman will have been taken to a much deeper state of repentance and submission.

I can’t say I’ve often complained that my spankings haven’t been long enough in the past, but I think that what I have lacked is indeed that I have not been brought to tears properly in my maintenance spankings. I have always been in charge, it has been me asking Catie for a few smart smacks across her lap, enough to release the endorphins (and to feel physically close to someone who loves me); but not enough to do anything deeper in my psyche. Short-term action leading to short-term release, but the underlying stress goes untreated.

So, in lieu of continuing the explanation of the reasons behind, (apart from additions to text), let me just tell you what happened.

(It’s okay category-B, you’ve almost reached the spanking bit now.)

What Catie and I agreed to was that she would indeed spank me, and my spanking would be: longer, harder, and better commentated than previous efforts...and that Catie would be in charge.

I think it was this last point that really made the Transformation here, it’s that which scared me. It’s not that I don’t trust Catie, but I am not a “Sub”, (I’m submitted, not submissive). Indeed the root of my problem is that I am too independent, I don’t rely on my friends enough, (thank you Dove for your help in this), and I need to learn to allow them to love me. If I trust Catie, then it’s okay to put her in charge.

The behaviour that was to be addressed was not any specific form of naughtiness, but rather more one of arrogance. I CANNOT do it all by myself, that isn’t how it is supposed to work, so when I learn to relax and let my friends love me THEN I will bloom in ways I have yet to even dream of. And love task number one was for Catherine Margaret to give Kirsten Louisa Saoirse a jolly good belting.

(Here it is, well done category-B!)

We started by going into Catie’s bedroom. I am usually spanked in the front room, so this put me squarely in “her” territory. Next she told me to lift up my skirt, again a new thing as we usually start on the skirt and move inwards. Then she told me to pull down my tights, again this stage is usually well into the spanking, (and often we don’t get that far). Then she told me to bend over her bed...something I have NEVER done before. (I’ve been bent over my own bed, and the kitchen table, both for punishment-type events, but never over Catie’s bed). She pulled down my knickers, (I usually pull them down myself), and started slapping me, alternating cheeks and places...she was warming me up. She stopped slapping and started rubbing, really hard, like she was trying to warm her hands: then a few more harder slaps, again moving around.

This was all new to me, as I have said before usually I just flop myself across Catie’s knee and she whacks me with my hairbrush on the seat of my skirt, or sometimes my sit-spot through my tights if it’s been a particularly busy day. (I like being spanked on my tights, it seems so girly; it’s specifically female and still demure.)

All the time she said basically nothing, which is itself uncommon to us as she often asks me about my day and how I am feeling while she is spanking me. You know the sort of thing, “so who was it today Kirsten?” And “how was Nine Lower then, I know you have been working hard on their Current Event journals?” All the while paddling merrily away, throwing in the occasional hard one to make me wince...or even well up a little bit.

Sometimes we role play it, if I am stressed because I have acted in ways that are below my own standards I ask her to discipline me. This is not real punishment, I don’t have to report to her in any way, it’s just a different game for the same ends. So it will be something like “oh, so you shouted at Nine Lower when they go too noisy did you? Excellent teachers don’t ever have to shout do they Miss Ellison?” Again, she just paddling away, punctuating with a hard one every now and then.

This time she just slapped me around, with the occasional “ooh” when one went crack! or if she saw/heard me flinch.

And then we really got into it. “Right Kirsten, come across my lap.” Not bend over young lady which is what I like to be asked, not even over my knee, but across my lap. This was very unsettling...again not that I was scared, but this was NOT the approved script.

She allowed me to keep my clothes on, albeit tucked or pushed out of the way, and she sat on the chair where Paul sits when he punishes her. (Catie is far naughtier than me and gets punished quite a bit. She’s had the strap six times this year, and several bare bottom sessions with her hairbrush which she HATES. Catie has her wooden spoon for fun.) I bent over her lap, and allowed her to adjust me, earning me a “good girl” which made me feel very pleased.

Then the spanking began in earnest. She gave me another few rounds of her hand on my bare bottom, to maintain the warm-up, increasing in force each time. Then she started on me with her hairbrush. Now I enjoy being spanked with my hairbrush, but hers is far less pleasant. And again she just got into it, whacking away at a greater rate than usual, but with the same force. It wasn’t very hard, but it was frequent, so it built up; and as I started to sob she just kept going, like she hadn’t even noticed. She started telling me how lovely I am, how proud of me she is, how proud my parents are of me, and all my friends.

She read things out of my Book.

My Book is the place where I write down all the nice things and the encouragements people have said about me. Inside there are print outs of letters from most of my 360 friends, (including you Kelicious...you didn’t take long did you? Oh, and Joe Mudd thinks I rock...Joe Mudd is correct), as well as excerpts from meeting minutes and newsletters from school, things my parents have sent me, letters and cards that I kept from ex-boyfriends, and stuff from all over. Basically the sorts of encouragement every girl wants to get to make her feel like a princess. I have been keeping this stuff since I was about seven, (which is perhaps why I have such strong self-esteem, but am not a snob, I have all the love I need).

So there I am, bare bottom and glowing, across my best friend’s knee, in her private bedroom, having the living daylights spanked out of me with her personal hairbrush, (that she actually brushes her gorgeous hair with), while she reads me stuff from my own diary of how well I am loved, blessed, admired, respected, and honoured.

Dear woman, why didn’t she just stick the knife right through now and I’d be done for.

Oh man, the tears that were shooting out had nothing to do with my sore bottom: SUCH a resource I have in friends and family, and me so bloody stubborn and self-reliant.

(Don’t ask me how she managed to read a book AND spank me at the same time...although the book is rather easy to flop open so she may have had it next to her on the bed.)

Then she began whacking with full fury, repeating stuff from my book and getting me to say it after her.

“Kirsten Ellison is an asset to our teaching staff”

WHACK!

“Umm..Kkkirr...”

WHACK!

“Eeeihh! Kirsten Elliso-aaah!”

WHACK!

“...is an aaaaa”

WHACK!

“...aa-haaa-aaa-sset to our teeee-“

WHACK!

“...eeaching staff-ffff.”

WHACK!

“...gorgeous Kirsty-girl...”

WHACK!

And so forth.

Once I was crying solidly, but not screaming, (she didn’t get me that far...but she broke me down), she slowed down to a rhythmic whack, getting me to say nice things about myself from memory and then say “and my friends think so too.”

The time ended with her rubbing me for a bit, and then getting me to stand up. I stood up very gingerly, and took over the rubbing for myself, still sniffling. I have never been spanked for so long, and with such a variety of strokes. As I say Catie is usually pretty consistent and rhythmic in her calming-me-down sessions: and when I am punished by Paul I get the strap, very hard. I don’t really remember much about my spankings as a child, and my boyfriends who used to spank me, (two at Uni, but not my last boyfriend who I met after graduation), used to do it instead of sex, so it was rough and desperate.

Then Catie pulled out the final trick. She gestured to her chest of drawers, and told me to “bend over young lady”. I did so, even flipping up my skirt without thinking, and SNAP, got nine strokes from one of her dressy belts. She’d doubled it up, and she absolutely went for it as hard as she could. “Oww FUCK!” I said. (I did, well for the first one...I just cried for the next eight.)

“And that is so you’ll remember it. This is the new regime Kirsten Louisa Saoirse Ellison. You WILL rely on your friends, you WILL ask for help when you are stressed, and you WILL tell me when you are sick, or scared, or need a cuddle.”

There will be no more gentle otk for me, well not for stress release after a busy day anyway. If I need a relaxing smack, I’ll get a nice cup of coff-a-late (black coffee and white chocolate) instead, and will be allowed to lay my HEAD in Catie’s lap while she brushes my hair and strokes my face: any time I want. If I don’t do this, and Catie notices I’m getting edgy, then it’s over her chair for her strap...with an otk warm-up.

I don’t want the strap, I don’t like it. I didn’t like it when Paul used to use it to punish me, and I didn’t like it on Sunday.

I know Catie loves me, (so does Paul): I know some of you love me, (and most of you seem to like me). I am this planet’s most loved daughter EVER.

I have lots of friends who like me; colleagues who respect me; and people whose favour I desire who favour me.

I don’t have to do it alone.

I will NOT do it alone.

THIS is the new regime: and I don’t need Curtseygirl anymore.

So again, this is not goodbye yet, I still have a few more stories I want to write as I have promised them and it would be rude to my friends not to write them. I like having friends, and I like doing nice things for them: so this is as much about me as it is you.

Thank you for being my friends, thank you for reading this...especially those of you in category-A.

And thank you so much, Sarah W, for posting this.

I love youse all!

Kirsten Louisa Saoirse Ellison

(Kirsten Blessed.)