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Monday, 31 October 2011

Sunday Spanklet - Halloween party

Spanklet  (n.) - definition - a very short story where an individual is spanked or caned.

The blonde woman in the witch's dress was looking at me intently. The Halloween party organised by a neighbour was going well, although I felt a bit foolish in my red cloak and horns. I had heard that she was divorced now, after her husband had gone off with a nurse from the hospital where he worked. In her mid- forties  she was deeply attractive and obviously kept herself in shape. I smiled and wandered over towards her and she smiled back as I approached.

“Hello you old devil.”

“Hello you. You have to be the most attractive witch in the coven.”

“Ah flattery, such a mischievous manner you have Satan. Tell me are you still into spanking?”

I grimaced at the memory. At a New Years Eve party I gave, for friends and neighbours, I had to allow ladies to use the upstairs toilet whilst the men went downstairs. This woman had proved to be no lady, because once upstairs she had chosen to snoop amongst his bachelor bedrooms. 

Amongst the books in his spare room study she had found his special interest magazines, under a pile of National Geographics.

When the New Year had been seen in and the guests were leaving she had kissed him goodbye on the cheek and whispered how much she enjoyed looking around his study and reading material.

“Such a naughty boy,” she had said as she passed one hand behind him and patted his bottom. He had blushed and said goodbye to her and her then husband.

“So I think Witches trump the Devil tonight, don’t you?”

In an instant I was back at the Halloween party.

“Dressed like you Lucy, I think you trump everyone here tonight.” I responded with a gallant bow from the waist.

“In that case, you can invite me round to your place for a coffee at midnight and we’ll see if I can make your bottom as red as your cape shall we?”

I had no option it seemed. My fantasies had caught up with me.

“Yes ma’am, the Devil is at your service.”

Sunday, 30 October 2011

Skirts and tights in the autumn (or fall)

Every now and again in October we can get a warm sunny day and this brings out an especially nice style of female dress – a mix between summer and winter – with a short skirt, tights and boots. If the skirt happens to be plaid then the effect can be electrifying.

Today whilst doing the supermarket because my wife was on a day course I came across just such a woman.
In this instance the plaid was green and the tights were brown. I started to follow the woman, maybe in her late 30’s, up and down the aisles.
I could not decide whether lifting her skirt to spank her bottom or going over her knee for the hairbrush would be the more enjoyable.

Eventually, once she had reached the checkout, I had to let her go and resume my shopping.

The image of her waist, skirt, long legs and bottom is still with me late into the night.

I guess it will soon be Christmas.

Saturday, 29 October 2011

Motivation card

When I was away from home the other week I was thinking of something nice to give my wife, since she gives me so much. I resolved to give her a nice leisurely massage  and when I saw one of those Indian Yoga shops I went in to buy some scented candles and incense sticks.  Browsing round I kept coming across little sayings or yoga type quotes in frames on tables or shelves. I wrote some of them down.

Later on I made up a postcard for my wife’s office pinboard, after adding the last line of my own. She likes it and says she glances at it everyday. Here it is

I can achieve my dreams

I am determined to succeed

I am a success in all that I do

I believe in my dreams and desires

Lives are made better by my efforts

I find my path following my inclinations

 I am allowed to stop and appreciate the quiet

                                           I can also manage men!

Friday, 28 October 2011

Her little red whip

Otto came up with some very exciting artwork on his blog capturing the use of what he called the genital flail …..see Fifty-lashes-of-genital-flail

When my wife thinks that I have been particularly well behaved or as a special sex night treat, she will instruct that I get out a spanking item she calls “the little red whip” and also a blindfold. Once I have showered and am naked she will blindfold me and leave me standing in the corner whilst she bathes and sometimes dresses, often in her special items of lingerie. She will come up behind me and talk into my ear about what is going to happen, whilst scraping her fingernails down my back and bottom.
In the dark I am naturally rock hard by now and shivering with excitement.

I am then led away from the corner and she guides me onto the blanket box bench at the end of the bed where she makes me first sit and then lie down on my back. For amusement, and to surprise me because I cannot see anything in the blindfold, she might sit on me or if she has put boots on she might place a foot on top of me and grind a heel or a toe into different my parts of my body.
Then comes the touch of the little red whip. She will spend a lot of time trailing the ends of the whip up and down my naked body making me squirm with pleasure and excitement. My penis is quivering like an arrow at this stage. The flicks start, gentle at first, but gathering pace, the ends of the leather thongs will start to smart against my skin. She whips across me my belly, then down over my penis, across my balls and then into the insides of my legs. She will start to move up again, with the strokes getting harder across my penis and back to my belly.  

After a period of ecstatic stinging I can sense when the strokes will get harder, because there will be a pause in her rhythm. She will hold the loose ends of the whip in the fingers of one hand and then flick her other wrist where she is gripping the handle, letting go of the strands just before they strike my balls. The pain is agony and I will make a half roll of my hips to remove the target from her sight, but then roll back because I want the whip to land again. I have no idea where the whip strands will hit again but I start to beg her to whip me, saying it out loud and using the words, harder Miss, whip me harder. 

She will tell me how naughty I am  wanting to be whipped there and then slice the leather thongs up into my crotch, where I have opened my legs wide to invite the pain in.

After a time she will stop and if I am lucky she might pull aside her knickers and fasten herself on top of me, riding my prick hard but telling me at the same time not to come.

When she thinks I am nearly there she will get off and wrap the leather thongs tightly round my scrotum, yanking the whip hard so that it squeezes every part of my genitals.

Then with a laugh she will take off my blindfold and I will see for the first time how she is dressed, she might be naked or clad in lingerie and stockings. I will stand up and follow her to the bed and then it is her time, with me doing to her whatever she wants, but with bruised and sore genitals which will ache for a day or so afterwards. 

That ache is one of the most satisfying sensations ever. It means that I have truly let myself be dominated by my wife.

Thursday, 27 October 2011


It’s Thursday and I was working away from home last night, so no maintenance session to report on.
Maybe something soon.

So it’s dismal weather out there right now and a dismal feeling within me. 

A good thrashing would buck me up I am sure.

Click to flex

Wednesday, 26 October 2011

Ups and downs and ups

There was a bit of a long break between yesterday’s post and the one before that. Events at the office had caused some trouble and things were not right at home so I did not have the interest in writing up the blog. The Thursday after my maintenance session was a wonderful day and everything was right with the world. Then from Friday on it just got bad. I was in a lousy mood over the weekend and there was not a good rapport with my wife.

Anyway – last night was a turnaround. My wife got a bit tipsy, unusual for a weekday, and I was invited to go down on her at bedtime. After a good number of orgasms for her she decided that she would do some face sitting, so she rolled me over and sat on top of me facing my legs. 

Whilst I engaged in a considerable amount of anal licking and kissing (which I enjoy doing) she gave my genitals a hard time (which I also enjoy). There was a great deal of ball slapping with her hand and gripping tightly so that her fingernails dug deep into my scrotum. As I writhed around underneath her, groaning with pleasure, pushing my tongue deep inside her anus, she spanked the insides of my legs and up under my bottom. I was desperate to come but she avoided any contact with my pulsating penis.  After maybe 10 minutes of these games she rolled off me and told me to go to sleep. 

What a frustration, but she is the boss.

Today is a beautiful morning and we are back in the groove

Tuesday, 25 October 2011

Last Wednesday

I am a bit late bringing you up to date.

The Maintenance Spanking of last Wednesday had quite an edge to it. I got home in good time and prepared the evening meal, because the financial world problems have reduced our eating out, which used to be customary on a Wednesday night. I  went upstairs to shower and change. As I was removing the punishment instruments, from the locked wooden chest, my mobile rang. I had the rather surreal experience of standing naked with my phone to my ear, listening to a female customer telling me about her service complaint whilst I was holding a cane, a riding crop and a paddle in my left hand. This would have looked interesting on a video phone I am sure.  As I apologized profusely for my company’s error, I felt like telling her that if she wished she could come round to my home and whip my ass if it would give her any satisfaction. Standing on the landing at the top of the stairs I heard my wife’s car pull in. I had a serious dilemma – either hurriedly tell my customer I had to ring off or face the wrath of my wife for not having everything prepared. I compromised and told the customer that it was a bad line and that I would call her straight back. This mobile telephoning has caused me too many problems recently – oh, for the days of land lines. 
With not much time to spare I pulled on my shorts and T shirt and placed myself in the corner of our bedroom to wait. I heard the noise of my wife moving around downstairs and the waiting went on and on. At long last she came into the room and went straight into the session. Usually she changes out of her day clothes or even takes a shower.

She instructed me to turn around and pull my shorts down and get over the chair. 

“God I am so angry.” she said, as I scuttled into position.   “A simple task and was it done?”

I had no idea what she was talking about. I couldn’t remember her asking me to do anything specific that day.

“Lucky for me I can take out my bad day on your bottom. That jerk Andrew just annoyed the hell out of me at work.”

I breathed more easily. It wasn’t me she was mad at.

“Right then, thirty with the crop I think.” She spoke in a business like fashion.
 ”Then forty with the paddle and I’ll finish off with the cane. Get over the bench.”

As I started to bend over I heard her say,

“No, I’ve changed my mind, let’s do it differently today. Get your hands against the wall and push your bottom out”

I stood up and crossed the room again. Once I was spread-eagled against the wall she inserted her fingers into the waistband of my shorts and lowered them slowly.

“You like that don’t you?” she asked trailing her fingers against my bare skin as I shivered with excitement.

“Yes ma’am.”

“Well we will just have to spank you hard. We can’t have you enjoying yourself when I want to deal with you.”

In silence she whipped me hard with the crop, slapping the tab against my right cheek and landing the stick part against my left. Then she changed sides and gave me the same treatment on the other cheeks.

“And a few here I think. Make you skip a bit.”

She moved directly behind me and swung the tab up between my legs and onto my balls. You might have described them as mere flicks, but that leather tab had me stretching up onto my toes and squealing silently.

The crop was thrown onto the floor and she went for the paddle. Slowly and in complete silence, other than my hard breathing, she paddled me hard, aiming at every part of my bottom until she had taken her stress out on my rear end. I had brought out the round headed paddle, with the hole dead centre, and she can easily control where it lands, to give a hard, all over whacking.

The paddle joined the crop on the floor and just then my mobile rang. I had left it on the dressing table when I had been in a rush.

“Do you want to get that?”

“No ma’am”

“I thought not. I’ll just take a look shall I? Good job you are not driving right now isn’t it?”

“I wouldn’t answer it if I was ma’am.” I replied, recalling the other day.

I heard my wife say hello and then

“I am sorry he’s tied up at the moment. Can he get back to you.”

There was silence followed by

“Well yes, I m sorry he has not rung you back Miss Roberts, I will make sure he does. Goodbye and thank you for calling”

“Sounds like you have an unhappy customer there, that’s two women who you are in trouble with.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“So maybe a few extra strokes of the cane for her benefit wouldn’t go amiss?”

“No ma’am, thank you ma’am”

My wife positioned herself at a distance from me and told me to  push my bottom out further and get up on my toes. She likes my skin to be stretched tight for the cane.

With easy swings she laid on with the long thin cane. There had been no mention of how many strokes. She struck me once at the top of my cheeks and then again just below where my bottom meets my legs. In slow strokes with a lengthy pause between each she proceeded to fill in the gap across my bottom, a bit like painting with numbers , but here the only colour was red. When she was satisfied that she had me in pain with my grunts and groans and deep intakes of breath the caning stopped.

“Now bend over and touch your toes and I will give you six of the best for not dealing with your customer properly.”

I moved away from the wall and stretched into position. The cane came quickly and harshly and I kept rocking forward on the balls of my feet. When the six strokes had been delivered and the cane was thrown to the floor I stayed bent over, because I am not allowed to move until told to do so.

Squatting down so that she could pass the mobile phone in front of my face she told me to stay bent over and make the call to Miss Roberts.

“And when you’ve done that you can tidy up and get downstairs. Stay in your pants though. I may want to use the wooden spoon on you later.”

That customer call has to rank as one of the strangest I have made but I appeased Ms Roberts and the rest of the evening went well. My wife was in a great mood when she came downstairs and patted my bottom quite a few times as I moved around the kitchen.

“One sore bottom and two satisfied women. Not bad for an evenings work.” she said.

I had to agree with her.

Wednesday, 19 October 2011

Maintenance pending

Just a brief post today.  Last night as we got ready for bed my wife told me to turn around so that she could inspect my bottom. She expressed satisfaction that there were still some marks from last Saturday’s whipping. The loopy johnny sometime leaves a message that can be read for days. 

Once the mobile phone business was behind us, we spent a great weekend together and I was of service in all sorts of ways. As a consequence I have been told to prepare for a Maintenance Session this evening – it will actually take place on the scheduled day for a change. More tomorrow hopefully.

Monday, 17 October 2011

Crime and punishment

On Saturday, at around 4pm, I was surprised to have my wife tell me to go upstairs and strip off to my shorts. This was not the usual prelude to a spanking, either maintenance or punishment.

“What, right now?” I asked.

“Don’t argue with me, unless you want more trouble. Just do as you’re told”

My wife wagged her finger at me and I practically stood at attention.

“And get the long paddle out, the one with holes.” Her voice carried into the hallway as I set off for the bedroom.

Upstairs I stripped quickly and cleaned myself up in the bathroom. There was no time for a shower and my wife is fussy about hygiene. She had not said what I should put on so I decided on clean blue shorts – she did not seem in the mood for punishment panties somehow. I retrieved the paddle from the chest  and went into our bedroom. With no indication of what was to come or how she might want me, I placed the paddle on the bed and put myself in the corner with my hands on my head. I stood staring at the wallpaper for what must have been ten minutes or so until I heard footsteps on the landing.

An angry voice behind me said,

“Get the dressing table chair and bend over it.”

Once in position my shorts were pulled to the ground and my bare bottom exposed.

“Do you know why you are here?”

“No ma’am.”

“Do you know where you were at 5.26 yesterday evening?”

My brain had gone a bit mushy with the surprise of the last few minutes but I mentally rewound the video of yesterday in my head until it came to me.

“I was on the motorway ma’am”

“Yes, you were driving home. When I got here you were upstairs, but you had left your mobile in the kitchen and it was ringing. It rang off before I got to it. I saw who the caller was and then I decided to look at all your calls, just to see what you had been up to this week. Guess what you think I saw as your last call?

Ah, problem, big problem, it dawned on me quickly. I stayed silent as this is sometimes the best thing to do with my wife.

“No, well I’ll tell you? You phoned the office at 5.26. Were you on the hard shoulder, parked up?”

“No ma’am”

“No indeed. So now you know why you are here.”

I shuffled about a bit trying to ease the pressure of the top stile of the chair from digging into my waist.

“Yes ma’am. I am sorry ma’am”

“I am sure you are sorry I found out, but not that you did it. If you were sorry you had done it you would have told me wouldn’t you?”

“Yes ma’am.”

From the corner of my eye I saw her move to the bed and I watched her long legs walk back to the chair until she stood to one side of me.

“I am so angry with you. Aside from killing yourself you could have killed or injured someone else. You have seen enough adverts about this and you and I have dealt with this before, or I thought I had?”

Yes ma’am. I am sorry ma’am. The traffic was dead slow in a queue ma’am.”

“Be quiet. I hate excuses and I don’t care if there was an elephant on the road. You don’t use the phone when you are driving. Clear?”

With that one word she swung the paddle hard into my bottom and I rocked forward with the impact. The pain flooded up from my bottom. This paddle is a Beast. It has 6 pairs of holes down its 20” length and the wood is as dense and unforgiving as any I have come across.

“I am not counting strokes. I am going to go on until I am satisfied that you have learned a lesson. You will not count but each time I pause you will say in a loud clear voice – I will not use my mobile phone when I am driving. Understood?”

The paddle hit me hard again across both cheeks and I used all my mind control to stay in position.

“So, what is a good way to start this punishment?”

My FLR training over the recent years had taught me to respond quickly.

“I am sorry ma’am. I will not use my mobile phone whilst driving. I deserve your punishment ma’am.”

“Correct. Now stay put and take what is coming to you.”

Within a few seconds I had been smacked four or five times. These first strokes on cold skin are the worst.

The strokes became more spaced out but no less severe. I sensed that she was raising her arm high and letting the paddle do most of the work on the downswing before she used her wrist to speed up the stroke and slam the paddle into my bottom.

I concentrated my vision on a small area of carpet in front of me and gripped the seat of the chair. The wooden blade practically lifted my feet off the ground and the ferocious pain swamped my brain. Silently I cursed whoever had tried to ring me last night.

After what may have been 25 strokes my wife paused for quite a long time. I knew what to do from my training and I repeated the mantra.

“I am sorry ma’am. I will not use my phone whilst driving. I deserve your punishment ma’am”

The paddle whacked into me again.

“So now we will carry on until I am sure you have got the message”

The punishment continued at a slow and deliberate pace. She moved her aim to the tops of my legs and smacked hard, first the right leg then the left, then the right and the left and so on. I was jumping trying to absorb the pain. My bottom can take quite a lot of spanking and caning but strokes on the backs of my legs are stingers.

She paused again after maybe 10 strokes to each leg and I only just remembered to say the mantra.

“I am sorry ma’am. I will not use my phone whilst driving. I deserve your punishment ma’am”

“I hope that is true. Now stand up and bend over and touch your toes.”

I did as I was told and moved the chair out of the way. I had a feeling that this next bit was going to be even harder to take. I heard my wife walk out of the room and the click of the wooden chest top. In a few seconds she was back standing behind me.

You know what I am holding?”

“Yes ma’am – the cane ma’am” My muscles were straining to keep in position.

“No wrong. I am about to use the loop on your sorry bottom.”

I had not anticipated this and was more than a little worried.

“Well what do you say?”

“I am sorry ma’am. I will not use the phone whilst driving. I deserve your punishment ma’am.”

In an instant the loop of plastic shot across my bottom and the tops of my legs. I jumped and desperately wanted to rub the hot line of fire.

“Get back down and stay down.”

As my fingers stretched to meet my toes (which I cannot do) the loop swished down again and again. In a few moments I was wishing that mobile had never been invented. The overall soreness from the paddle was now a background of burning for the thin plastic strip to do its very particular stripey work. My mind was fuddled with trying to cope with both the ache in my stretched calves and the razor sharp pain of the loop. I counted about twenty strokes in my head and still she did not stop. As the whipping went on and on I had no choice but to ask her to stop. I cannot remember the last time I had begged for a punishment to come to an end. I can normally take a good thrashing without a murmur, particularly when I know I deserve it.

There was no response from her, just the continued thrashing of the loop.
After what might have been another 30 or 40 strokes she told me to stand with my hands on my head. With the end of the loop resting under my chin she stared at me with a hard penetrating look.

“Don’t you ever use that mobile in a car again? Do you understand?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“I am going for a bath and get ready for tonight. Tidy up this room and go downstairs and get on with cleaning the downstairs bathroom.”

I bent to collect the paddle which she had thrown on the floor together with my pants. She handed me the loop.

“One more thing. We will not be using a taxi tonight to get to the restaurant. You can drive and not drink as part of your punishment. I rang Sarah to say that we would pick them up so that saves them a taxi as well. Do not step out of line tonight.”

“No ma’am.” I said and left the room.

The rest of the afternoon passed quickly as I went through some household chores. It was about an hour before the throbbing in my bottom eased off. I took frequent furtive looks in the mirror with my shorts down to survey the red marks.

We drove into town in a good humoured silence and I deliberately placed my mobile phone in the glove compartment before we set off. When we picked up our friends there was the usual exchange of greetings and the “what have you done today?” sort of thing.

“Oh, this and that.” My wife said “A few chores and I had a communications problem to sort out but it was quickly resolved.”

Yes, I thought wriggling in my seat, she did sort out that problem

Sunday, 16 October 2011

Favourite spanking picture

There has been a recent call in the spankosphere, to post one’s favourite spanking picture. This one is up there in my top ten. I like the warm familiarity of the scene, juxtaposed with the implied threat.

Yesterday turned out somewhat differently to my expectations but it will take a bit of time to write up, so I will post it tonight.

Saturday, 15 October 2011

Back home

I arrived home last night, after a week away from home on business, to find the house empty and a note from my wife that she was having an after work drink and that she would be home around 7 or 8. 
I sorted through the post, mainly bills, and put some laundry on and then did some work and and a bit of browsing on my laptop. I took out the punishment book from the desk drawer and wrote in the entry of 30 strokes, missed dentist appointment. It was well past 7 before I eventually  went upstairs for a shower and just as I stepped into the hot stream of water I heard my wife come home.
When I got back downstairs she seemed pleased to see me but a bit distant. Maybe she did not like having her recent routines disturbed by having me back in the house, I thought.
We set off for a pub meal and chatted with friends before walking back at around 1030. As I waited in bed for her to take off her make up, I anticipated some welcome home sex but she didn’t seem interested in my advances and rolled over on to her side to go to sleep.

 I thought about doing something on my own but figured the movement might disturb and annoy her. So I came up with  a silent fantasy involving me and two women and a trip to the woodshed and slowly drifted off to sleep myself.
I got up early this morning to write this and prepare breakfast. 

Maybe if I do things right there might be some maintenance tonight.

Friday, 14 October 2011

Self restraint and denial

Some F/M blogs are not really to my taste. For example  I have no desire to have my penis caged, be a sissy, have pins inserted into me  or to be milked. I am much happier on the general spanking side of FLR or domestic F/M. I do however get a kick out of wearing knickers (panties)
so I might occasionally mention that .

I can get some pleasure from being denied an orgasm but this is more along the lines of my wife giving me an instruction along the lines of

 “ Thank you for making me come, but now I want to sleep, so you will have to have your fun another time.”

Going to bed knowing that I must not touch a rock hard penis is a very exquisite exercise in submission. I suppose the longest that I have been told not to play with myself is maybe 10 days, whilst my wife was away on a conference. When she arrived back she made me stand naked in the corner of the bedroom as she ran the tip of a riding crop over my shoulders, lower back and bottom cheeks. 
She asked me repeatedly if I had touched myself in her absence and flicked the tab inside my legs against my bottom and testicles. I was practically begging for a hard whipping but instead she told me to masturbate and hold the cum in my fingers. It took me only a few seconds to orgasm, as I submerged myself in her dominance, with the whip end running on my skin. When I had stopped shuddering with the rapid orgasm she told me to turn around. Once she had inspected the contents of my hand and was satisfied by the amount of cum that I was telling the truth, she slapped the front of my legs repeatedly with the tip of the crop and told me to swallow my stuff and lick my fingers dry.
 When I had done as I was told and drunk the warm semi-liquid  she told me to go away and get on with the evening meal whilst she took a bath.

 The following day she rewarded my restraint and good behaviour with a thorough hairbrush spanking .

More usually I am told not to play with myself for only a few days. This can be a real turn on, but as I say I would not like to be wearing any special equipment that physically prevents manual handling.

I have to admit to disobeying the instruction on occasions and hoping not get found out, but what else would you expect from a man.

Thursday, 13 October 2011

Blackberry debacle and consequences

Thanks to the guys at Blackberry I now have 30 strokes with the cane added to the Punishment Book. My wife had e mailed me on Monday, reminding me to cancel a dental appointment since I was travelling. Of course I never got the email with all the Blackberry nonsense going on and I didn’t remember it myself, so a letter duly arrived at home yesterday with a £30.00 fee for a missed appointment. My wife told me about the bill last night on the phone with a tetchy tone to her voice and awarded the punishment for carelessness. Needless to say my technology excuse cut no ice. Apparently the outage was caused by a network "switch" so I hope that particular word does not penetrate my wife's consciousness.

The fault is probably good news for iPhone sales people I suppose, if not for me.

Wednesday, 12 October 2011

F/M Art - Otto

For those of you who appreciate artwork showing spanking in general and F/M in particular, may I point you in the direction of Otto. His work has only recently started to appear in blog world, although given the quality he must have been developing his craft for years.

Take a good look at Otto's Spanking Art 

There is no Maintenance today due to work commitments, but hopefully something in the next few days. I feel I need it.

Spanking therapy for depression

In Bonnie’s last Sunday brunch post over at she raised the topic of spanking to cure depression. As is very common for her popular brunches this brought in over 20 comments.

I see that therapeutic spanking is available, in at least a few places in the USA.

You might want to take a look at

For myself I can only say that a hard thrashing with a cane or paddle leads to a huge improvement in my outlook on life and restores my optimism. Maybe it should be on offer at the NHS. The nurses would get to relieve their frustrations in their jobs and the depressed patients would not take up so much time and valuable resource in the health system.

Image by Barb

Tuesday, 11 October 2011

Skirts and boots

Another work trip to London yesterday and it was interesting to see that the return of our more usual October weather, wind and rain, has brought out the boots on the ladies.

Nothing quite like boots and skirts to get the imagination fired up. It made some of the duller parts of my meetings a lot less boring.

On occasions, when my wife has been in an entertaining mood, I have been made to kneel and kiss her boots and then ordered to lie face down on the floor whilst she places one boot foot on the back of my shoulders and slaps my bottom with the tab of a riding crop. I could lie there all day under her whip. Hey, ho.

Saturday, 8 October 2011

Spanking in the news- Charlie's Angels

A crew member on the set of ABC's "Charlie's Angels" reboot was quickly dismissed after he gave actress Minka Kelly an unwanted tap on her bottom.

It seems that ABC are planning a TV series of Charlie’s Angels and the the title took me straight back to the late 1970’s, when this series was a favourite of mine.

I couldn’t take my eyes of Kate Jackson. She was the one for me. 

Taking her over my knee and spanking her would have been heavenly and having her get annoyed and dealing with me would have been even better. Perhaps it was the jodhpurs.

Friday, 7 October 2011

Last Wednesday

Last Wednesday night’s Maintenance session was a relief for both of us. My wife was all chewed up about an issue at work and I needed a serious whipping.
I got home early and prepared a meal and then made the preparations in the bedroom. I set out just the three canes we have and the Spencer paddle, the long one with holes.

I took a shower and pushed my luck by putting on my red punishment panties as a treat. Normally I might get told off for presuming to put on knickers without being specifically instructed to do so.

When she came into the bedroom my wife was brusque and to the point. She had had a lousy day with argumentative men and it was going to be my bottom that she would use for stress relief. I was over the bench very quickly and the panties were pulled up so that the flimsy material offered no protection to my cheeks. The instruction was to stay still for 30 with the paddle and then sixty with the cane. I lifted my bottom up by standing on my toes as I stretched forward across the bench.

The paddle strokes were quick and powerful. The smarting was immediate and I struggled to get my breathing synchronised with the impact of the loud smacks. As she raced through the smacks my wife kept muttering about the uselessness of men and how she would like to thrash them to teach some manners. At least, she said, she did not have that sort of trouble at home.

When the paddling ceased I thanked my Goddess and waited, blazing bottom in the air and a stiff erection squashed into the surface of the bench as I rested.

The cane swished behind me and from the sound I knew that it was the thin whippy one, which she finds difficult to control. In a few seconds I had taken four strokes where the tip of the cane wrapped around the side of my bottom. She scolded me for putting on the knickers without asking me and told me to make a note of 6 strokes of the cane in our punishment book.

The caning continued and my bottom felt good and hot. She was getting her eye in and the strokes were well placed now, up and down my cheeks from top to bottom. After maybe twenty strokes with the thin cane she threw it to the ground and took up the thicker one with the crook handle. I could identify it before it hit me because of the deeper whoosh sound it makes. She whizzed it up and down vertically behind me  to intimidate me and make me flinch. I did!

Then she started with one heavy stroke after another. I let my mind go free and just enjoyed the heat of the strokes. When she finally stopped I wanted nothing more than to lie there and take more cane strokes.  She came round in front of me and using the tip of the cane under my chin she made me lift my head to look her in the eyes.

I hope you enjoyed that, she asked.?

I said yes, and thanked her.

Well then, she instructed, come back in half an hour and you can show me your grateful thanks.

A great mid week session and I am grateful for my Goddess’ attentions, as the marks of the cane are still evident two days later.

Tuesday, 4 October 2011

Banjo back in action ( and a story sent to Ms Dana Kane)

For those of you who appreciate F/M drawing and art, may I point out that Banjo is back on the web and doing good stuff at .

 I came across Banjo's work in a Yahoo group a few years ago and admired the way that he could tell a spanking story in a single graphic. His art stimulates you to come up with your own thoughts and ideas about what is going  and you can fantasize happily as to whether it is you or someone else getting their bottom reddened. 

Earlier this year Ms Dana Kane asked for a story submission under the banner of Person, Place and Thing.

A condition of hers was that the story had to make reference to three things; a newly married couple, the Trevi fountain in Rome and a blue umbrella.

Here is what I wrote.

The rescue of a Roman honeymoon.

James had been grumpy and bad tempered all morning, which was not surprising given the amount of alcohol he had consumed on the previous night. Yesterday had been a special day for Charlotte, as you would expect a wedding day to be, and all the guests had raved about how beautiful she had looked and how James was so lucky.
Charlotte had not felt exceptionally proud of her new husband, as she watched him drinking at the bar with his friends, when he should have been dancing cheek to cheek with her. She had also been less than impressed with the way he had looked at the girlfriend of his Best Man. 

Charlotte knew that they had once dated and she was uncertain whether they had in fact slept together. In any event it was not appropriate for her man, who had vowed to be faithful only a few hours ago, to be looking that way at the girl, particularly as the little minx was wearing the shortest dress at the reception.

As they sat, side by side, in the airport terminal Charlotte ruminated on the pitiful outcome of her wedding night. Instead of enjoying romantic sexual pleasure she instead had to endure her husband snoring, stretched out semi- comatose on the hotel bed. The silk lingerie and stockings which she had worn as she stepped out of the bathroom, into what was supposed to be an atmosphere of marital bliss, were now at the bottom of her suitcase and she doubted it would see the light of day for a long time. She tried her best to ignore James’s complaining voice as a further delay of their flight to Rome was announced by the sour faced ground crew at the gate. Flying on a budget airline had been her  choice and she knew there would be no smiling crew,holding a glass of champagne for the newly weds, when they finally got to board the plane. Flicking through her glossy magazine Charlotte went into a daydream about some gorgeous man romancing her on a sunlit beach.

Once their plane had finally taxied out and taken off, James wasted no time ordering drinks and his mood improved. Charlotte relaxed and began to think of what they would do on this honeymoon. She wanted to do the shops and the sights in Rome and then they had a week booked in a gorgeous cliff top hotel on the Amalfi coast. Their accommodation in Rome was a regular city centre hotel but the honeymoon suite in the second hotel offered a private balcony with a small dipping pool and a large Jacuzzi suite in the bathroom. The money for the holiday had been given by James’s father directly to Charlotte along with a small note which read “Have a fabulous honeymoon and I hope you make a man out of my son. He has too much money for his own good from the family trust and I am afraid that since his Mother died he has lacked guidance from a female and has turned into a bit of a chauvinist. You are a charming girl and I look forward to having a wonderful new daughter.” The amount of money given to her was more than enough for the honeymoon Charlotte so desired and she had splurged the rest on her clothes and accessories, hoping that James would appreciate his well dressed bride and show her off in fashionable Italy.

The flight was uneventful and after collecting their bags they were soon in a taxi heading into the city. James became excited and talkative as they approached the centre and drove past ancient statues and monuments that they had only previously seen in photographs. Noisy, horn beeping traffic and the bustling pedestrians only added to their sense of excitement and Charlotte began to get a real thrill that her honeymoon had finally started.  The taxi pulled up at the Hotel Julia on Via Rasella and she was pleased to see that whilst the hotel was small, it was well placed in the centre of the city and ideal for sightseeing.

Once inside their large room the pair emptied their suitcases and set off to explore the nearby streets and find something to eat.  After an hour of walking they searched out a restaurant and sat at a table in the warm afternoon sun. Even though it was 3 o’clock the bistro was still buzzing with customers and Charlotte felt that the day was still young. They ordered hesitantly, unable to converse in Italian, but the waiter did not make them feel uncomfortable and guided them towards the specialities of the house. James asked for beer and then another one, when their antipasto arrived. They chatted about their plans and what they would do in the week. Charlotte was hoping for some afternoon delight once they had returned to their room and was dismayed when James ordered a bottle of red wine with their main course. She thought about making a comment that it was still early in the day for drinking but held off in case she burst the happy bubble of the convivial surroundings. She sipped at the wine and mainly drank the sparkling water and she hoped that James would do the same. At the end of the meal however, when the Chianti bottle was empty, James had become louder in his conversation and she knew that he was more than a little tipsy.

As they strolled back to the hotel Charlotte stopped to window shop and wanted to go inside one or two stores, but James kept muttering about not having come all this way to shop so she gave in. In the lift up to their floor of the hotel he made some playful grabs at her skirt and tried to kiss her. She became a little frosty and pushed him away telling him to wait and he made a spoilt boy face. Inside the room Charlotte closed the curtains and turned to see her husband pulling off his clothes and once he was free of his trousers he turned his attention to her dress. She brushed him off  when it became obvious that he was making a hash of the zip and removed it herself. When they were naked on the bed James came inside her quickly and the whole thing was over in a few seconds. For all that she had gotten out of the act of lovemaking, Charlotte might as well not have been there. James kissed her one more time and then rolled off her body and promptly fell asleep.

Lying there staring at the ceiling Charlotte seethed with anger and frustration. She passed her fingers between her legs but could not find the desire to do anything. After a few moments she got up and showered and then got dressed in some fresh clothes. Leaving a note which simply said “gone out for a walk” she took the room key and her handbag and left the hotel. In tune with her sense of gloom she noticed that the weather had turned grey and there were ominous afternoon rainclouds gathering. She started to walk slowly in any direction her feet took her  and followed the narrow streets away from the main shopping streets. Turning down a perfectly ordinary passageway beside the walls of a church she suddenly found herself in a narrow square with the most enormous sculpture opening up to her left. The rain had started to fall but, other than making her shiver with a chill through her thin dress, she did not really notice the water drops as she gazed in awe at the details of the Trevi Fountain

Walking slowly through the clutch of people at the edge of the fountain she tried to take in each detail but it was just too large, too grandiose. Charlotte edged towards the lip of the water and began to search in her purse for a coin. As she stood there wondering what to wish for Charlotte was suddenly overcome with a sadness that she was seeing this beautiful statue on her own and not with her husband. The rain started to come down harder and the crowd of people began to thin out as they sought shelter.

Suddenly the emotion of the last couple of days welled up inside Charlotte’s chest and she started to cry. She stood hunched her shoulders in the rain, her arm outstretched over the fountain edge, clutching a small coin whilst the salty tears ran down her cheeks. A moment later the heavy raindrops suddenly ceased as a large  umbrella passed over her head.

“You are far too pretty to be crying,” said a voice from behind. “What on earth is wrong?”

Charlotte half turned and saw the smiling face of an attractive woman in her mid thirties, smartly dressed and holding out the big blue umbrella over both of them.

“Oh, you’re American.” Charlotte said in surprise.

“Well yes. Is that a problem? I thought umbrellas were sort of international.”

“No, I mean yes, well thanks. Oh god, I must look such a mess.” Charlotte stammered in her confusion.

“Listen, you could do with getting out of the rain. Why don’t we go over to that café and you can dry off?”  The American lady pointed down one of the three narrow streets leading away from the fountain and took Charlotte's hand so that she could hold the umbrella between the two of them. She set off at a brisk walk and Charlotte really felt she had no option but to walk with her. It was almost as if this stranger was exercising some sort of control on her.

Inside the warm café they found one of the last vacant tables and Charlotte went off to the bathroom to tidy up. When she came back there was already a steaming cappuccino and a cake laid out at her place and her rescuer waved her hand to indicate that she should sit down.

“I’m Dana by the way,” the women said as Charlotte eased herself into the small space.

“Oh, right, gosh, yes and I’m Charlotte but please call me Lottie” Charlotte paused and then remembered her manners.

 “Thank you so much for the coffee. This place is wonderful, so Italian”

“Make a start on it whilst it is hot Lottie and you can tell me why you were crying”
Dana smiled sympathetically and sat back in her chair.

Charlotte straightened her hair and wondered where to begin. She could feel the tears start to well up again and her voice croaked a little. She took a sip of her hot drink and began at the beginning.

The story of her courtship with James and all the romance of the last year came spilling out. Dana simply had to nod her head occasionally and make the odd supportive comment. Charlotte described the weekend that the marriage proposal had been made and then the dashing around to make the wedding arrangements in just a few months. When Dana asked her about husband and what he was like, Lottie went into some detail about how Jamie’s mother had died when he was in his teens and how his wealthy father had brought him up with the help of domestic staff and his  father’s sister and then a boarding school. After pausing to drink more coffee and eat the cake she started on the tale of the wedding day and the disastrous start to the honeymoon.

“So that’s it.” Charlotte said after twenty minutes or so of quiet monologue. “You know everything about me now, but there is one more thing I haven’t told you.”

“Which is what? “ Dana asked.

“I am scared that I have made the wrong decision and that I should never have got married !”

Dana passed her hand over the table and gripped Charlotte’s fingers tightly.

“One question for you, or maybe two. Do you love your husband?”

“Yes I love him. I thought he was Mr Right from the beginning but I am not so sure now”

“And do you think he loves you” Dana added.

Charlotte thought for a moment and then nodded.

“Yes I do, but I think he loves other things as well and he is finding it hard to focus all his attention on me.”

“OK fair enough.” Dana looked into the younger girl’s face and gave her hand an encouraging squeeze. “You can deal with this, Lottie. We just have to think things through”

Lottie raised her head. “We, how do you mean we? I hardly know you and even now I feel bad for telling you all my troubles. I mean I don’t usually go around giving my life story to strangers.”

“OK, OK. That’s good. That’s your assertive side coming out. Maybe we should see more of that. Next question. Tell me Lottie, have you ever been spanked?”

Charlotte looked astonished and wondered what this woman was all about.

“Spanked? What has that got to do with anything?”

“ I’ll explain in a moment. Have you heard of the Peter Pan syndrome, where a man is really a child looking for some attention?”

Charlotte shook her head. This was all a puzzle to her and she began to wonder what she was doing listening to this woman.

“What I am driving at Lottie, is that I think your James is looking for guidance. He knows he is doing things that irritate people and in a way he has not yet matured enough to be your equal in the marriage.”

“So how do you know all this?” Charlotte asked, realising that what was being said suddenly made a lot of sense.

“Well, I do a bit of psychology in my job and I have come across men like your husband before. Once you know which buttons to press it is remarkable how quickly you can sort the problem out. Of course I may be wrong about your husband but from everything you describe I think he could be taught to improve his behaviour.”

“OK, I’m listening, but what about the spanking. Why did you ask me that?”

“Were you ever spanked as a child?” Dana asked

“Yes, a few times, though not very often.”

“And what were you spanked for?”

“Well it was a punishment or a warning not to do something again”.

“And has James tried to spank you?”

“A few times, I guess. I don’t like him doing it because it hurts.”

“ I think that what he is trying to do is show you that he wants to be spanked in return and that smacking you is his way of introducing the idea of discipline into your relationship.”

“But why for heaven’s sake ?” Charlotte asked in frustration. She had never thought about marriage and discipline. It was supposed to be love and marriage.

“Because, I think he was probably spanked by his Mother. If he was the only child she possibly kept him very close to her and gave him treats when he was well behaved and scolded him when he was bad. When she was no longer in his life he found he could do exactly what he wanted without anyone setting boundaries. The people he associated with would have felt sorry for him, losing his Mother early on, so they probably went of their way to please him.”

“So you think he wants a Mother and not a wife? Is that what you are saying?”

Charlotte was getting a little indignant at Dana’s intervention in her day. She hoped that she had married a man not a boy.

“It is not as black and white as that, honey. Human beings are complex creatures. We all have our hidden side, things that we don’t share easily with other people. I am only offering an opinion. I should maybe go and leave you to finish your coffee.”

Dana stood up and then paused as Charlotte grasped her wrist.

“No, please I am sorry. Sit down again. I think I need your help. What do you think I should do if what you are saying is true?”

Resuming her seat Dana called a waiter over.

Cameriere, due bicchieri di vino bianco per favore”  Charlotte was impressed with both her fluent italian and the air of superiority that Dana exuded.

Turning to Charlotte she smiled and said “I think we both need something stronger than coffee. It will help us relax.”

Dana started to talk and Lottie listened carefully. For a quarter of an hour Dana explained precisely what steps the bride should take to establish her husbands true nature and when she had finished Lottie was flushed with excitement at the prospect.
She agreed that she would try out the plan they had devised that evening and meet again the next day.

“So what are you doing here in Rome?” Charlotte asked as they finished the last of their wine and prepared to leave the café.

“I am just on holiday like you. I come here every year for 3 weeks. I simply adore the place and the shopping is wonderful. The Italian men are an added bonus.”

“You are so lucky to get so much time off your work.” Charlotte commented.

“Well that is one of the advantages of being freelance,” Dana smiled at her new friend. “One day I will tell you how it works and what line of business I am in.”

They walked towards the hotel chatting and laughing conspiratorially and found the Via del Tritone. They stopped outside a small chic restaurant and Dana made a reservation for dinner and then they walked on to a large Farmacia which Dana sometimes used. Charlotte was entranced by the lovely cool atmosphere of the Italian chemist shop which was so different to the ones in England. There were gorgeous counters of cosmetics and creams but the item that Dana was looking for was more prosaic. She pointed out a paddle hairbrush to Charlotte and told her that this would be an excellent purchase. Although it was not made of wood, it was a good size and made of a very dense type of plastic. It was also a nice shade of blue. Charlotte picked it up from the rack and went to pay at the counter, resisting the impulsive urge to buy some make up.
Outside the shop they parted company, kissing on both cheeks and laughing as though they were sisters.

Back at the hotel James was awake and sat in his underpants watching a TV channel in a language he could not understand. He quizzed Charlotte about where she had been but she cold shouldered him and told him to shower now and get dressed because she wanted the bathroom to herself for an hour or more.

“I have booked a table for dinner.” Charlotte said in a cross voice. “We need to be there at 8 so I hope you will be looking more presentable than you do now.”

When he came out of the bathroom Charlotte stepped straight in and told James she would see him downstairs in the lobby at a quarter to eight.

“What will I do until then?” James asked.

“Well it is Rome after all. “ Charlotte pointed out. “I am sure you can amuse yourself for a couple of hours. Just don’t be late.”

Lying back in the hot bubble bath Charlotte day-dreamed about how her day had unfolded and what the evening might bring. She suddenly felt tired from all the travel and excitement of her wedding. Allowing her hand to wander she came in contact with the warm space between her legs and started to rub with her outstretched fingers. Within a few minutes she had come to orgasm and she played a couple more times before telling herself to stop. It was a pleasure to be on her own for once and she took full advantage of her personal quiet time.

Later, when Charlotte was dressing she pulled out the hairbrush from her bag and used it to straighten her damp hair whilst using the dryer. When she replaced it on the dresser she experienced a thrill as she imagined the next time she would be holding it in her hands.  She rescued the silk lingerie from its place at the back of the drawer and dressed in a leisurely fashion, enjoying the soft touch of her silk summer dress as she pulled it over her head. The dress was a plain yellow in colour and with the Centurion style of sandals and her hair tied back she thought that she looked suitably stylish and a little bit severe.

In the bar downstairs Charlotte slipped onto the stool next to James and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

“Shall we go?” she enquired with a coquettish tilt of her head.

“Let me just finish this.” James said and proceeded to down his glass of beer in one go.

It was only a short walk to the restaurant and they were shown to a table for two against the wall. James looked around as he sat down and spotted an attractive dark haired  woman on the table next to them. She did not look up from reading her book and James figured she was on her own, maybe some sort of executive here on business.

The manner in which they were seated meant that the woman was not in James vision whilst Charlotte was able to see her over his shoulder. The waiter moved in swiftly with bread sticks and Charlotte ordered a glass of wine and James another beer. They conversed happily and chose from the menu, again with the help of the waiter. As their main course arrived James asked for a bottle of red wine and Charlotte looked across at the woman opposite. She received a nod of recognition and support.

“Don’t have a bottle, darling” Charlotte said in a clear firm voice. “Just stick with the water or maybe have just a glass.”

“Of course I want a bottle. We are only half way through our meal.” James responded.

“I would rather you didn’t. Please do what I ask.” Charlotte spoke firmly and glanced across at the dark haired woman again, as she felt needed some moral support at this stage.

“What is all this about?” James asked angrily. “I’m not drunk you know.”

“No you’re not darling and I would rather you stay that way.” Charlotte sat up a little straighter and took a deep breath.

“I am telling you not to order a bottle James and you had better do what I say”

She was surprised at herself and looking over again at the woman on the next table she was pleased to see her mouth the word “bravo” and clap her hands together silently.

The waiter who had been standing patiently by during this altercation and who obviously understood what was being said, looked first at Charlotte and then at James.

“Bring me a bottle of red wine.” James demanded.

As the waiter walked away Charlotte stared at her husband with eyes narrowed. She thought carefully about the next step.

“James I think you ought to know that if you want to stay married to me then you are going to have to change your behaviour. I do not want a bore and slob as a husband.”

He glared at her rather insolently and drank off his beer.

The mood of the evening had changed and as they ate their main course in silence James kept taking large gulps of the red wine, almost as if he was proving a point.

After they had finished their main course James went off to the bathroom and Charlotte went over to talk to the woman.

“You are doing well” said Dana laughing. “ It’s like having a fish on the line. You are nearly ready to reel him in”

“I know. I’m beginning to enjoy this.”

They chatted a bit more and then when Charlotte saw James coming back she saidgoodbye and nice to meet you to the rather striking, single lady and went back to her own table.

“What was that all about?” James asked in a perfunctory manner as he sat down.

“Oh, nothing really. I noticed she had dropped her purse on the floor so I went to tell her. She is heron holiday on her own. Maybe I  should have done the same”

“Look Lottie, we can’t sit here not speaking. I am sorry if I upset you about the wine”

So, just as Dana had predicted he might , James had made the first move and was giving the smallest of apologies.

Charlotte kept an impassive face and told her husband that it wasn’t just the argument abut the wine. She was fed up with the way he had treated her for the last two or three days.

“I mean it James. Unless you change your attitude I can’t see our marriage lasting a week, never mind a lifetime. Sometimes I think you need a good spanking to sort your ideas out.”

There. It was out. She had said the S word.

Charlotte cast her eyes over to Dana who was grinning and nodding her head and then she looked back at James who was staring at her a little wide eyed.

“Yes, you heard me correctly James. A spanking on your bottom would do you the world of good and I might have to thrash you with a cane if that didn’t work. I have had it with your spoilt brat behaviour.”

She glared at James and wagged her finger at him. All of a sudden she knew that she was the one in control and she sat back waiting for a reaction.

“Maybe you should,” James muttered.

"Should what?"

"You know, spank me."

“Well if I did spank you it would not be for fun young man, so don’t think that.”

Charlotte was gaining in confidence now and she waved at the waiter to call for the bill. It looked as though Dana had been right all along and now she wanted to keep up the momentum and leave the restaurant quickly.

When James had settled the bill, Charlotte took him by the arm and made him follow her out on to the street. As she left she gave a broad wink at Dana. They had agreed to meet tomorrow afternoon and if things carried on as they were at the moment there would be a lot to talk about.

It was all part of the plan that the restaurant would not be far from the hotel so it was only a few minutes until they were in the spacious room. The curtains were drawn and the bed turned down so the next item on the agenda could begin immediately.

"Sit on the chair James and wait." Charlotte instructed. "I will be back in a moment."

When she came out of the bathroom, wearing her lingerie, she told her husband to get up.

Charlotte picked up the hairbrush from the dresser and sat down on the bed and told James to stand up and come over to the side of her.Placing the hairbrush on her lap, where her naked slim thighs showed above the stocking tops, Charlotte reached out with both hands to undo the belt around James’ waist and unzip his trousers, which promptly fell around his ankles.

With another quick movement Charlotte’s deft hands yanked down his shorts causing James some discomfort as the elastic waist band caught on his erect penis.

“You had better keep control of this,” Charlotte warned, tapping his erection with her finger. “I don’t want you coming this evening until I tell you, if at all. Now strip off your shoes, socks and shirt.”

Grasping his wrist Charlotte pulled her husband over her knee and lifted up his shirt tail. When she had moved him around a little, so as to get him in the correct position, she admired his lovely tight bare bottom and resisted the urge to rub her hand across it. She was not in the business of pleasuring him right now.

“Right, you know what this is about James?”.

“Yes Lottie” James agreed in a quiet voice

“I am going to give you such a spanking with this hairbrush, that you won’t believe. From now on there is only one person in this marriage who says what goes, and that is me. Is that understood?”

Charlotte tapped his bottom with the back of the hairbrush a few times to reinforce the point.

“Yes Lottie. Please don’t spank me hard.  I won’t drink too much any more, I promise” 
With his head near the floor, James  looked back at her over his shoulder as he pleaded.

“Oh, it’s not just the drink young man, it’s the whole behaviour thing. I am going to make you into a husband worth having. Someone who will be a credit to me. Now stay still and be quiet.”

The brush cracked against the white skin and the redness from the smack spread quickly. Charlotte did not stop and the spanks came thick and fast. Neither of them was counting and indeed, if they had been, they would not have kept up with the rate of spanks. Charlotte became possessed of a new found energy as she smacked the brush across every inch of James bottom. As he started to feel the heat James kicked his legs from one side to the other, attempting to slide off Lottie’s lap. She warned him to take his punishment and delivered a few crisp spanks to the backs of his legs. The seconds passed into minutes and still she kept on going. The pinkness in the skin had started to pass into a dark red and then in places a purplish colour. She thought she heard him sob a little as he begged her to stop but this only made her more angry. Charlotte did not want a cry baby as a partner so there was to be no let up on her part.

After many minutes she decided that the lesson had been given and she paused. James lay over her lap gulping a sob every now and again and shaking his body from side to side.

“Get up.”

James practically fell sideways off her knees and struggled to his feet. Charlotte looked up at him and narrowed her eyes.

“Shall I stop? Have you learned your lesson.” She quizzed him.

“Yes, yes.  I am sorry I messed up. I will be good I promise.”

It was just as Dana had predicted. James was behaving like a small boy who had been found out and he was promising that everything would be better. Only time would tell, Charlotte thought to herself, but she knew that there would be many more spankings in the future before she had straightened him out.

“Go and stand in the corner and keep your nose into the wall. I am going to have a shower and then you can show me how much better behaved you can be.”

As Charlotte walked over to the bathroom she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror still carrying the hairbrush in her hand. She paused and looked back at her husbands glowing rear end as he shuffled into the naughty corner. Yes, she thought, as she tapped the back of the brush against her open palm, things could only get better on this honeymoon.


Grateful thanks to Banjo and Ms Dana Kane for their consent to use the images above.