Hello Tim, its Danielle
I hope you are well and having a nice week.
I hope your wife and children are well and enjoying the summer.
Below is a copy of what I was thinking for a potential post on your blog. I realise it might be a bit long...and might not at all be what you feel appropriate. But if it is, I would really appreciate if you would post this.
Feel free to chop what you think best. I have also attached it as a word document just incase it doesn't all come through. I have also inserted some pictures.
Danielle
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Dottie
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Lola
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Josephine Scissons
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On the morning of.
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No heels for a while!!!
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Thank fuck that's over!
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I hope your wife and children are well and enjoying the summer.
Below is a copy of what I was thinking for a potential post on your blog. I realise it might be a bit long...and might not at all be what you feel appropriate. But if it is, I would really appreciate if you would post this.
Feel free to chop what you think best. I have also attached it as a word document just incase it doesn't all come through. I have also inserted some pictures.
Danielle
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Danielle’s 60 mile walk for The Brain Tumour Charity
Not that long ago, I was in so much pain that I thought I would have to chop my right leg off. One of those unbearable pains that make you wish you were dead. You must be wondering what caused this… well, here goes. On Saturday 23rd May 2015 I walked 60 miles to help raise funds for the Brain Tumour Charity.
In 2014, I happened to stumble across an advertisement in a local newspaper asking for volunteers to do a walk of either 20 miles, 30 miles or 60 miles to help raise funds for a charity of their choice. I did my first walk in June of 2014 for the Motor Neurone Disease Association {Americans will know this disease as ALS} and have never looked back. I raised just over £3000.00 walking 20 miles. This year I was determined to top that.
Despite the fact that it is now August, a whole 3 months after my 60 mile walk, I still grimace at the memory of that pain. Don’t get me wrong; as any new mother will tell you, it was all worth it! I decided to raise money for The Brain Tumour Charity for a number of reasons – namely, a relative in my family died at the age of 23 from a pituitary brain tumour. This was a long time ago, so it’s quite possible that they would have survived in today’s times with all the improvements in technology and medicine.
Either way, the fact remains the same….the biggest killer of under 25 year olds in the UK Is Brain Tumours.
Either way, the fact remains the same….the biggest killer of under 25 year olds in the UK Is Brain Tumours.
As well as this, The Brain Tumour Charity is a very small charity. They aren’t large enough to have charity shops to raise funds, similarly they don’t have enough money to fund advertisement on TV. The charity receive no government funding {this is despite the fact they plug a very large gap in treatment of brain tumour sufferers}. Their work has been described as ‘a lifesaver’ by relatives of brain tumour sufferers. I cannot put into words the hole that is left in a family when a person so young dies – yes, there is a death, there is a funeral and all the other predictable happenings, but the disease spreads throughout the greater family, almost like a plague. Nothing is the same.
With all the time that has passed, it’s still hard to not be bitter. All that ‘what ifs’ and ‘the maybe’s… they’ll never go away. But the important part of raising money for charities such as this is that they are on The Front Line telling brain tumours to royally fuck off!
With all the time that has passed, it’s still hard to not be bitter. All that ‘what ifs’ and ‘the maybe’s… they’ll never go away. But the important part of raising money for charities such as this is that they are on The Front Line telling brain tumours to royally fuck off!
So there I was, back in December of 2014 and sunning myself on holiday in Brazil whilst the UK was battered with storms when I received an email from Action Challenge, the organisers of my 20 mile walk which I completed the previous June. The email invited me to join up – at a discounted rate – to a 60 mile walk that was taking place in May of 2015. Fantastic, 5 months to train – is what I thought. Conversely this is a lot longer than my relative had, it all it was 6 weeks from diagnosis through to death…{6 weeks and 3 days if we are going to get picky}.
I eagerly signed up and then went down to the beach for a cocktail, not realising that after the race I would be taking a cocktail of painkillers in order to try and get back to walking without searing pain and a limp.
I wanted to encourage as many people to sponsor me as possible. I thought up a few things as well as the traditional begging letters and texts. I advertised my walk on both www.britishspanking.comand www.itc-mag.co.uk and posted regular updates as to how my training was getting along. I organised not one but two spanking parties with the help of several other spankees. All the monies raised {which would normally be kept as profit} were given to the charity. In all, the two parties raised £1140.00. These didn’t come off without a hitch.
The parties were both well attended, which was great. Anyone who has ever ran a spanking party will know that it’s quite stressful, getting everything to happen as exactly the right time. On the morning of the first party, I received a phone call from a man who had booked to attend, sent a deposit to me confirming his place, and who has spent well over an hour talking to me on several occasions asking various questions about the party. He was ringing to say that “in his heart of hearts” he couldn’t come as it might jeopardise his relationship that he had embarked upon just two weeks before the party, as he was not sure if his new beau would think of his as a “pervert” for being into such things.
In times like this…..when you find yourself running around making sure everything is in place, everything is tidied away, all the starters are being prepared and not burnt to a crisp… phone calls such as this aren’t the most helpful. All you can do is hold back the desire to scream and swear and say “I hope you and your new girlfriend have a wonderful life together, "sans spanking” and put down the phone.
As the saying goes…"nowt as queer as folk." Sometimes I wonder if I have ‘Moron’ written across my forehead.
In times like this…..when you find yourself running around making sure everything is in place, everything is tidied away, all the starters are being prepared and not burnt to a crisp… phone calls such as this aren’t the most helpful. All you can do is hold back the desire to scream and swear and say “I hope you and your new girlfriend have a wonderful life together, "sans spanking” and put down the phone.
As the saying goes…"nowt as queer as folk." Sometimes I wonder if I have ‘Moron’ written across my forehead.
The theme of the parties was that some very poorly behaved girls were up before their probation officers. Josephine Scissons, Dottie, Lola, Wynter Skye and myself found ourselves facing a string of allegations, namely that whilst on probation for previous offences, we STOLE money that was donated by the public to a charity. GOOD HEAVENS!
No one could prove it obviously, but it seems that a series of expensive purchases – Christian Louboutin shoes for Josephine, an iPhone 6 for Dottie, a designer jacket for Lola, and a new car for both Wynter and myself – meant that we had come under suspicion. Of course these were all lies, though we are habitual re-offenders up before the beak, we wouldn’t stoop so low to as to steal from a charity….our charity buckets had little money in because instead of standing in the local town centre collecting money, we went to a local park and got drunk.
So it was decided unanimously by the probation officers that we HAD stolen funds meant for the charity. Shock horror! After 30 seconds of deliberation they decided that we must be punished for our crimes. It was here that I admitted that I hadn’t used any of the charity money to buy the car, I had stolen that. I thought that might make them go lighter on me…conversely I got a much harder spanking than the others.
Throughout my campaign to raise funds for the Brain Tumour Charity, the charity were communicating with my by email and were very helpful. I told them I was organising a fundraising party, though I neglected to tell them exactly what the party consisted of. In response to this, they sent me a ‘party pack’ which included banners, bunting, badges, stickers, t-shirts for myself and all the girls, as well as ideas for games. THE WHOLE SHEBANG.
Most importantly, they gave me wallet-sized fold out cards to hand out to the gusts, these were very informative. These concerned all sorts of topics, what are the ten most common signs of a brain tumour, 10 facts about the statistics of brain tumours, practical advice on how to support a friend of relative suffering from a brain tumour.
Most importantly, they gave me wallet-sized fold out cards to hand out to the gusts, these were very informative. These concerned all sorts of topics, what are the ten most common signs of a brain tumour, 10 facts about the statistics of brain tumours, practical advice on how to support a friend of relative suffering from a brain tumour.
So the parties went well, and I was exhausted afterwards. Organising – and being spanked at – two spanking parties in two days is no easy feat! The race was still light years in the future – in my mind.
The next week passed quickly and before I knew it I was on my way to Old Deer Park in Richmond to start the race. A friend of mine came with me to be my personal cheerleader at the start; a different friend was going to meet me at the end. The weather forecast had said it was going to be cool and overcast – great, that’s just what we want! Instead it wasn’t just warm, it was hot. BUGGER!
I was making good progress, sometimes it’s hard to forget that it is not a race as such. I took an iPod with me so that I could listen to music to keep me awake {I had to wake up at 4am to get there for 7am on Saturday 23rd May}. I had to keep saying to myself MISS HUNT DON’T OVER EXERT YOURSELD NOW. REMEMBER THE HARE AND THE TORTOISE!!!!!
The hardest parts of the walk were mile 17 and mile 51 which were very steep, both upwards and downwards. Though it wasn’t raining some of the parts of the walk were just caked in mud from where all the people ahead of me had walked, in other parts the organisers had to put up rope at waist height for people to grab a hold of just in case the walkers slid. Had I encountered this on any normal walk I would have just given up and gone home, but after having heard numerous tales from several people who had sponsored me, about their friends and relatives who had had brain tumours, giving up was not an option!
A very amusing point I should make is that admiring women’s bottoms is not hard in events like this… a lot of them are wearing spandex!
At events such as this, you meet lots of nice people, all of whom are very friendly and very eager to offer support and blister plaster if you need one. Later on in the walk, at mile 42, I happened to come upon some other people raising funds for The Brain Tumour Charity. This to most people might seem like a casual meeting, but it was anything but. Events such as this are dominated by people raising funds for MacMillan, Cancer Research, Help for Heroes and other very well-known charities….. but here we were, somewhere in Sussex. By now we were into day 2, it was 4 am on Sunday and the rest of the country was asleep {quite rightly} and here we are walking through some nameless forest.
I remember the exact moment {I had slowed down a lot due to the branches on the ground, I saw a girl take a very nasty fall UP a curb around midnight and was wanting to keep my bones un-broken!} that I chanced upon them. I can only describe it as meeting a long lost sibling. There was an instant connection of sorts, here we were, fighting for the same cause, quite literally Fighting The Good Fight, a thin blue line, going off to war. Ignoring our war wounds to grab brain tumours by the balls and not stop squeezing until they DIEEEEEEEEEEE . By this time, I was sporting a very badly sprained right ankle.
My right ankle, and then my right knee were in a lot of pain. For the last 15 miles I was hobbling more so than walking. Putting any weight on my foot was agonising. I was mixing painkillers with pro-plus in order to keep awake. I felt awful. Exhausted and weary, the heat was a bit too much towards the end. Other unusual things I saw whilst doing the last 30 miles include watching a deer knock itself unconscious on a wooden fence after being chased by a dog. Dum dum dum. I also met a rather friendly pony and several cats. Several people driving by in cars beeped their horns and cheered us along. Meanwhile I was wondering if it was possible to have a foot transplant.
FUCKING hell this is harder than being spanked by Dallas Spanks Hard!
I was really wearing in my new walking boots which I had received as a gift from a friend of mine for Christmas. They were from Millets, but had become my everyday-shoes over the previous few months. When talking with other walkers – after discussing out various war wounds – talk then moved onto how much walking everyone had done. In the early days after signing up, I did my walking religiously, even walking 8-9 miles at night to get my body prepared for that, but in the weeks coming up to the race I had let this slip somewhat – for a good reason of course – I was busy advertising for donations and replying to people etc etc.
Ironically the finish line seemed further away at mile 50 {with only ten miles left} than it did at the start. When I did finally cross the finish line at Brighton Racecourse, I felt like Neil Armstrong landing on the Moon. I simply couldn’t believe I had done it. It had taken me a lot longer than I had expected, but that was because I had to spend so much poking and prodding my foot into moving. The only thing I could think about was where the nearest hospital was….
My medal was put around my neck by a man with a microphone who asked me my name and what charity I had raised money for. I felt like grabbing the microphone and asking if there were any doctors present. I was given a glass of champagne – plastic – as we wouldn’t want any further injuries. My friend who came to meet me presented me with a balloon which said Well Done Danielle on it. All these niceties were really by the by, all I wanted was a sit down.
Some people wrongly assume that because I can take the cane {and enjoy doing so}, I have a high pain threshold on other parts of my body, such as my foot….if only.
My body clock was a bit out of whack, but almost 35 hours after starting I had finished. Yes, DANIELLE HUNT HAD WALKED ALL OVER BRAIN TUMOURS. Beside the racecourse the organisers had set up a marquee which had food, drinks and medical professionals. That is where I got the bad news. I hobbled in, despite having a medal around my neck no one offered to lift me up to save my very painful leg. A female doctor checked me over, after seeing that my right foot was twice the size of my left and then hearing me show just how common I was by saying every swear word under the sun when she poked and prodded at said ankle, I was diagnosed as having a sprained ankle with some tendon damage on the upper part of my right food.
As they say, if somethings worth doing, its worth doing well and I truly had done this very well. It’s a good job I hadn’t planned much for the week ahead because I wouldn’t be going anywhere. I was told to rest my foot at an elevated position until the worst of the pain passes. Its advice like this that makes you think that doctors aren’t in touch with modern living……
That said, I am sure the diaper position for spanking would suffice
Spanked by the Amsterdam Authoritarian on www.spanked-in-uniform.com
Hobbling over to my friend’s car was a big pain and getting into the car was a big pain and slight movements were an even bigger pain. In the end I took so many painkillers that I started having stomach problems, this is what happens when you take on a bunch of cancerous cells the size of your fingernail…. It turns people like me who are 5’5’’ into wailing babies. Oh I did have a good old cry in the car.
But it was all over. I had my medal and a picture of me at the race line. I then went about telling ANYONE and EVERYONE and EVERYONE’S COUSIN. Bow down to me, I injured myself in the name of a good cause… well not quite like that. The emails and phone calls I got {some whilst I was walking as well} were very kind and I am truly thankful, they really did help me carry on when I just wanted to give up.
The Brain Tumour Charity is now £5800.00 better off due to my efforts, and that amount is going up as I am still accepting donations which I am passing onto the charity. To know I have made a difference is very rewarding. All I can hope is that this money will help the charity conduct further research and produce medicines which will mean that having a brain tumour is no longer a death sentence.
My foot is on the mend and I am no longer screaming when I put any pressure on it.
Finally, though its just over a year away and though this year’s 60 mile challenge almost killed me, I have signed up to another next year where I will be raising funds for a charity which supports Prostate Cancer sufferers.
My foot is on the mend and I am no longer screaming when I put any pressure on it.
Finally, though its just over a year away and though this year’s 60 mile challenge almost killed me, I have signed up to another next year where I will be raising funds for a charity which supports Prostate Cancer sufferers.
Finally back to 'normal'
Danielle Hunt
www.stingingtails.co.uk
07763 870 589
Links
Action Challenge Event Organisershttp://www.actionchallenge.com/
London to Brighton Event
http://www.london2brightonchallenge.com/
http://www.london2brightonchallenge.com/
The Brain Tumour Charity
http://www.thebraintumourcharity.org/
http://www.thebraintumourcharity.org/
The Brain Tumour Charity Registered office: Hartshead House, 61-65 Victoria Road, Farnborough, England GU14 7PA.
Registered Charity No. 1150054 (England and Wales), SC045081 (Scotland}