Author Archives: Ariel Anderssen

I am a Disaster

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Oh, for heavens sake. Today I had a day off for the first time in a few weeks (apart from the days I spent lying on my back, glugging Lucozade) and I had a super time on Oxford Street buying modelling clothes and eating cake with a lovely girlfriend. Then I went home and realised I’d lost my diary.

HORROR! HORROR! HORROR!

I have nine months of bookings in there, which I’ll never remember on my own. And I’m not at all sure whether anyone who finds it will send it back to me, because I suspect it might make entertaining reading for someone with a non-kinky life.

I feel very sorry for myself.

But worst of all, the boyfriend/Dom/Master has been trying for months to make me zip up my bag when I’m out, because I’m always dropping stuff and inviting pick-pockets. And I have ignored him.

Brrrr.

I think he is very likely to punish me, and I think he might actually be right. This is a very poor end to the day, and I feel rather ashamed of myself for;-

a) Ignoring the BDM’s very sensible advice.

b) Kind of lying to him earlier when he asked me if my bag had been unzipped when the diary went missing.

c) Oh, lordy; just losing the most important thing I could possibly have lost. Apart, possibly, from my head. Or the actual BDM. Or my virginity. Hmmmm.

Anyway, I shall post a picture now, to distract myself from the horror of this particular Wednesday. And hopefully to distract you too 🙂

My favourite games

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Wheee! I’m off to shoot with www.northernspanking.com later today, and I’m so excited 🙂 This is why I know I’m happier being a spanking model than a spanking producer – it’s a lovely feeling, just having to turn up and act, really just like going to a friend’s house to play, which I did a lot when I was a child. Here is a list of my favourite games which my sister and I made up;-

Witches’ boarding school (hmmm, very much like Harry Potter, but we made it up first…)

Second World War (which involved us being very hungry evacuees and talking about powdered egg a lot)

Poorhouse (mmm, this involved us being horribly abused orphans, and eating crusts of bread)

WORKhouse (even worse than Poorhouse, we had to pull a plough, and had to collapse a lot from exhaustion. My sister didn’t enjoy this game very much, but it was my favourite and I was always pestering to play it…)

Bomb. We had a lamp-post outside our house which ticked fabulously. We pretended it was a bomb, and took it in turns to tie each other to it, after which we had to escape. I was EXCELLENT at this game 🙂

So spanking shoots are really very similar to what I used to do just for fun. Except that there’s actual spanking now, as opposed to imaginary cruelty. And it’s my job. Hooray!

Now I must go and pack, so I shall post more when I’m home on Sunday. EXCITED!

Needing a Sanatorium

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I am properly ill, it turns out. And how lovely that I’ve got a blog, otherwise I wouldn’t have anywhere public to make a big fuss about the symptoms. I had a shoot yesterday which I couldn’t cancel, and must have infuriated the makeup artist by blowing my nose and wiping off the makeup over and over again. She was very patient, and kept re-coating my nose in extra-thick foundation to hide the neon-glow…. And then she basically painted a whole different face on top of my one, and I looked fine in the pictures. Miraculous really – she even had something to stop my eyes being blood-shot. Have never modelled with flu before, am amazed how much a makeup artist can do to hide the evidence. We should all have one…

Is interesting that in bondage and spanking work, hardly anyone ever bothers with them. Gags tend to destroy makeup so I suppose it’d feel like a bit of a waste – and I’ve always been fascinated by what my hair does when I get spanked. It sort of re-arranges itself on my head and weaves itself into a weird kind of mat that sticks straight up. Which would be a total waste of anyone’s hard styling work. I’d really love to have a stylist who’d ensure that I ended a spanking with my hair behaving like a lovely, shiny waterfall. Huh. And without my makeup smeared on the sofa.

I can’t cope with being actually upright any more, so am going to lie down and drink some more Lucozade, which I’m heartily sick of now. I’m wishing that I belonged in an old fashioned girls’ school story (not for the first time…) and that I could be sent off to a sanatorium to recover from my long, serious illness….

‘No!’ Cried Amelia-Jane, ‘I simply must stay here and help the Upper IV to victory in the netball match against those beasts in Lower VB!’

The easy tears of someone who is not very well spilled down her pale cheeks, and Miss Newton knew that poor Amelia-Jane would not be playing netball again for some time. ‘My dear, you’ve had a fearful illness, and added to that awful shock for you and Flynn last term, you’re thoroughily exhausted. You’ll need a good rest before you can come back to school – so we’ll send you somewhere with good doctors who can make you well again’…..

Ahhhhhhhh 🙂

The Strength! The Grace!

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Except – not really. I used to be a ballet dancer, before I got taller than all the men who were meant to be able to pick me up. This actually happened when I was about 12, but I soldiered on because I loved it so very much. And thank heavens I did, because it turns out that kinky people often have a very special place in their hearts for ballet dancers. Why? I do not know. Certainly dancing en pointe is supremely masochistic, in an not very hot, blister-y way. Maybe because ballet is all rarified and mannered, so thinking of a ballet-dancer being, well – DEFILED – for example, is rather interesting.
Anyway, being a bondage and spanking model has given me the chance to re-live all my ballet fantasies; and here is one of my favourite ballet/fetish shots, taken at Easter by www.johntisbury.co.uk
And here is the story. I arrived at his studio, and he kindly carried my suitcase upstairs while I said hello to his wife and his cat. He chose my outfit from the selection I’d brought (ballet skirt and pointe shoes) and I put them on while he made me a cup of tea. Still talking to his wife, I started down the stairs, holding my tea and wearing my pointe shoes. Then I fell down the stairs, throwing my tea at;-
a) The ceiling (where it dripped back down onto me)
b) The stairs
c) His wife
d) The cat
And then I cried, while they kindly mopped up all the tea, including the splashes which had fallen on my shoes. Fortunately, when I’d recovered a little, I was able to help clean the ceiling, because in pointe shoes, I was the only one who could reach.
Then he took pictures of my legs until my face was doing normal model-things again 🙂 And here is the picture. Hope you enjoy it 🙂
Ariel (because there was no spanking in this story, only bondage)

Mmmm, Cake…..

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I’m still testing what my blog can do, so this was an excuse for trying to post a picture. I’m not sure if this will count as obscene, or pornographic. If so, I think something bad will happen. I don’t THINK it is though.
I am still ill, and have eaten nothing except Lucozade for 3 days. And I’m getting super-thin. And rather weak. Amelia-Jane can’t come out under these conditions, she needs fuel in order to be bratty and demanding. And my wrists hurt when I type. And you can’t EAT Lucozade, anyway, but I’ve lost the ability to write properly in English. Ooh, dear, my precious blog is going downhill, and it’s not even a week old yet! I’m trying to use this picture as inspiration…. At the time it was taken I remember thinking the cake looked super (I took at bite out of one of the pieces of fruit cake, actually) but brrrr, nothing is working today….
Ooh, have just been properly self-obsessed on my blog. Wheeeeee! I promised myself I wouldn’t, but I don’t even care….
Amelia-Jane (suddenly emerging…) Mwah. MWAH!