Have a good New Year

 Now is the accepted time to make your regular annual good resolutions.  Next week you can begin paving hell with them as usual.  ~Mark Twain




I hope your wishes come true in 2012

A good night and an early start

With some advice from a  friend I focussed on my wife's mind last night and romanced her into bed. She began to unwind quickly with my tongue in the right place and if the number of shudders was anything to go by, she had a good time.


When she at last rolled over to sleep,  I was told to wait my turn until the weekend. She reminded me that I was to get a good seeing to before we go out on New Years Eve (as if I had forgotten) and promised me some time with the little red whip once we get home, if my behaviour merits it.


Off early to a work appointment right now. I am going by train and will have three hours of dozing time, during which I can resurrect some fantasy in my head to pass the time.

All over and done with

So that's it. 


All house guests and family have departed and we have the place to ourselves again.
My wife is out shopping and I am doing the cleaning.


(Well I just took a coffee break to write this).




I have no idea what her mood will be when she gets back. I suspect she is tired from providing all the Christmas hospitality, so I will not rush her with any suggestions of sex.
Que sera, sera.

Catching up after Christmas

Our house guests left for a shopping trip at 11 this morning, indicating that they would be back at 4pm, in time to meet some friends of ours who were arriving for supper. Our children went off to visit their friends in the area at about the same time. I got on with a few chores, mainly cleaning, vacuuming and washing clothes whilst my wife prepared the meal for later on. After a couple of hours I suggested lunch at our local pub and there was immediate agreement on this. Whilst I cleaned out the fireplace and laid some fresh wood and coal, my wife went upstairs to change into something smarter. After ten minutes or so I heard her voice calling me from the top of the stairs.

“Hurry up and shower,” she said when I got to the bedroom. “I want something to eat so be quick. Bring the bath-brush back with you.”

 She carried on dressing whilst I rushed off to the bathroom. By the time I was back, naked and nervous, but excited at the same time, she was fully dressed in a woolly roll neck sweater, jeans and boots. She looked a million dollars.

“I like that she said pointing to my erection. I can use some of that after lunch if have time.” She held out her hand to take the bath-brush and tapped the end of my penis with the wood.

“I will make this quick. Bend over with your hands on the bed.”

I moved into position and strained to lift my bottom high. I needed what was to come and I wasn’t disappointed when the first thwack of the bath-brush crashed into my cheeks. My wife smacked away hard and fast and told me that I had deserved this spanking after being so well behaved over the holidays. She uses a sort of tennis groundstroke swing with the brush and the weight of the head gives it extra momentum. The spanking continued for maybe twenty five or thirty strokes and I was ablaze with the heat in my sore skin.

When she had finished she swatted my behind with her hand and told me to get dressed quickly. Handing me the brush she reminded that she wanted to show off a very nice husband to her friends and I was to be particularly careful not to drink too much. I thanked her and hurried off to get into some smarts.

The pub was warm and lively and after soup and a sandwich we set off for home. Once inside we acted a bit like teenagers and kissed passionately whilst tearing off each others clothes. All this took place in the sitting room and I was soon inside my wife, taking her from behind, whilst she lay over the end of the sofa. I came in only a few minutes. As I stood there with my legs shaking like a jelly after the orgasm my wife shuffled forward a bit more until her hips were high in the air. Opening her legs wide she left nothing to the imagination and I understood what I was expected to do. Her face and chest were buried in the cushions on the sofa and she murmured happily as I my tongue worked inside her. After a while she decided that she wasn’t going to come so she flipped herself over in a very athletic fashion. Now she was on her back on the sofa she pulled herself further back and I went round the side and knelt on the carpet so that I could bury my face deep between her legs. In the space of two or three minutes I could tell she was close to orgasm because her thighs came together and closed around my head in a vice like grip. I licked away passionately and she finally shuddered and came. As she lay there I gave her two or three more orgasms and then looked over at the clock. When I pointed out that it was very nearly three-thirty we stood up in a hurry and started collecting up our discarded clothing. It would not have been good for our friends to have arrived early as we ran through the hall and up the stairs, laughing at our predicament.

As we got hurriedly dressed I thanked my wife for a great afternoon. She inspected my bottom and said that the marks of the brush had nearly disappeared and that she looked forward to leaving a new set later in the week. When she saw me stiffen again at the thought of this she told me to put it away and get my pants on.

The doorbell rang promptly at four and I made my way downstairs in a calm and collected mood. Welcoming our guests into the house I mentioned that my wife would down soon because we were running a bit behind schedule.

Christmas over

Ah well, that’s another Christmas over. Once again we have spent too much money and eaten too much food but I guess we have contributed to the improvement in the world economy. In a few days time there will be New Year’s resolutions, not to do this or that. Maybe promises to lose weight or not drink will be among them. I will probably make such resolutions and they may well be broken by the end of January.

In the past it has been easier to keep to my resolutions if I have made a commitment to my wife. She has offered punishment as an incentive to keep to my word. Somehow the endorphins that rush into my head when my bottom is receiving cane strokes have been compensation for dieting or refraining from alcohol and these regular punishments have done their job. I will make a list of the things I want to achieve in 2012 and pass it to my wife sometime this week. I am confident that if she thinks I will persevere then she will offer to build them into Maintenance or Punishment sessions.

There is a chance that there will be a reward spanking on Tuesday if the house becomes empty for a while. I will let you know. On New Years Eve I am promised a full session, with bells on as my wife says, so that will keep me on my toes for the next few days.

Sunday Spanklet - Problem Solving

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

Charlotte sat on the bed looking up forlornly at Jack and then back down at the cane which rested on the pillow beside her.

“Do we have to do this?” she asked in a plaintive voice.

“We agreed,” Jack replied, “A traditional punishment is the best way to deal with transgressions and clear the air.”

“But it will hurt a lot. Can’t it just be a spanking?  Maybe with a hairbrush or something ?”

“No, if it is to resolve anything it has to be with the cane.”

Charlotte stood up reluctantly and in  a deft, practised, movement she tied up her hair in a ponytail, using an elastic scrunchy which she took from the top of the dresser. 

She turned back to face her new husband.

“Well don’t just stand there,” she commanded in a stern voice. “Bend over and touch your toes!”

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Acknowledgement - from an unknown story I read a few years ago.

Christmas thoughts

As the house has become occupied with family, I have to cast my mind back to the caning last Tuesday in order to remind myself that I must keep my cool this holiday and not get grumpy. I don’t know what it is about Christmas – it seems very enjoyable as a concept but less so in reality. Too much preparation and not enough substance I would say. My wife loves it however, so that is all that counts.

Last night in bed she commented that I seemed to making a good effort and that if there is an opportunity in the next day or so she will give out some quick reward strokes. She asked me if I would like a quick story before she fell asleep and I readily accepted. I removed my pyjama trousers and took myself in hand whilst she traced her sharp nails on the skin between my thighs. The story she told in a quiet sexy voice, was a version of an old theme involving a female teacher and a dilatory teenager who is summoned to her study for a severe thrashing. I am sure you can get the jist of the story. 

The picture I had in mind, behind my closed eyes, was of a woman in her thirties who I had seen earlier in the day in an hotel bar. She had been dressed in a short sweater and black leggings with boots. Her bottom was truly peachy.

I came in only a few minutes and as I cleaned myself up, my wife rolled over on her side to go to sleep. I kissed the back of her neck and thanked her.

I am awake early right now to get this post done before Christmas Eve chores and errands take over.

I wish you all a spankingly good Christmas

Seated woman

Browsing through general art recently, when I was looking out for works by Toulouse Lautrec, I was struck by the fact that a seated woman can send out very specific messages to a male spanko. 


No implements need to be on show and the pieces of art could easily hang on your wall,  with nothing given away about your kink.


Should you agree with me, I will let you come up with your own thoughts about these:

A Christmas cracker

 As I sat there on Monday night, waiting for my wife to arrive home, I decided to inspect my bottom in a mirror to see what evidence there was still showing from the session last week. You may recall that I had a serious meeting with the paddle and the riding crop. I was surprised to see that my right cheek was still quite marked after nearly 6 days. I was also slightly embarrassed to think that I had been to the gym and swimming pool on at least three occasions since my whipping and I had not thought about covering myself up in the changing room shower. I can’t recall having my bottom on show but who knows.

Anyway back to the main purpose of this post. I had been promised a Christmas session to keep me on my toes over the holiday period and to ward off any grumpiness. An added incentive to my good behaviour is another session planned for New Years Eve.

I was keen that my wife would be a happy bunny so I got home early and prepared a meal. I did not know what form the evening would take. It was not a Maintenance spanking so I decided not to make the mistake of anticipating my wife’s requirements. Instead I sent her a text suggesting we meet for a drink at the pub on her way home.  A quick reply in the affirmative had me scurrying round to finish the arrangements for dinner and a quick shower. I walked to the pub and was there before her so I stood chatting to a few locals. When she arrived my wife pulled my ear and teasingly said that I should not be spending all my time at the pub. The other people at the bar laughed as she went on to say in a jokey voice that husbands should be at home not in pubs. It was all very amusing except I knew there was another more serious side to her comment.

We each took our drinks to a table and chatted about our respective day at work.  As I gave her the second glass of wine she leaned forward and in a low voice told me that she was looking forward to giving me a thrashing later on. I stiffened under the table and managed to say that I was at her service, as always. She told me that she fancied just using the cane and maybe all three of our canes, but that I could choose the position, as it was Christmas. As she said this she slid her hand under the table and grabbed the contents of my crotch in a tight grip. She raised her eyebrows in mock surprise at my erection and I looked around to see if anyone was watching or listening. With another hard squeeze she asked me what position I fancied. When I had told her she said that it sounded good, very good and since I had been such a good bad boy she would oblige me.

We finished our drinks and left. I drove home as I had had only the one drink.  I cooked the dinner and then began to clear up the dishes. My wife went through to watch some TV and I took her a drink and we watched a comedy programme together. I was beginning to wonder if she had decided not to follow through with the plan when she told me to switch everything off and close down the house whilst she went upstairs.

 She told me to be in the bedroom with the 3 canes in fifteen minutes and as she stood up she ran her hands up inside her skirt and rolled down her tights. Stepping out of them she handed them to me and told me that since I liked to wear knickers so much she wanted to see what I looked like in tights (pantyhose).

I was soon upstairs but it too me a while to get washed, stripped and I struggled with the tights. I did not wish to tear them. I felt a bit foolish and exposed as I walked into our bedroom. I had taken so long that my wife was already standing there completely naked. She took the canes from me and walked around me commenting how cute I looked in the tights and how they held up my bottom so tightly. 

She pointed at the cushions on the bed and told me to get across them . Once I was in position she climbed on the bed and sat so that her legs were each side of my head and shoulders. She laid the canes on the bed beside her and picked up her vibrator from the bedside table. My face was only inches from her vagina and I watched as she slid the pin dildo inside her lips and then told me to tae the square battery end in my mouth. As she switched on the rabbit she told me to make sure that I kept it in position. My teeth and lips were humming with the vibration as squirmed further up the bed so that I could hold the dildo firmly in place. As my wife picked up the first cane and stretched out her arm I could feel the cool bamboo laid across one cheek. She announced a tariff of at least thirty strokes with each cane unless she came first in which case she would stop.

The first few strokes, vertically down each cheek, were hard and thuddy but I was soon lifting my bottom up and down in my eagerness to meet the cane. My wife wiggled her hips around to get the most out of the vibrator and we were soon in a happy place, with me eagerly anticipating the pain of each stroke and she pushing down hard against the rabbit.

When the first thirty stokes were over she picked up the second cane and I murmured with pleasure as she gently stroked it over my back and my bottom. It was more difficult to hold the end of the dildo, as she pushed hard against it trying to push it deeper inside.

The new cane landed hard and speedily. This one was a little longer so the tip kept whipping into my legs as well as my cheeks. The tights offered no protection and if anything the stinging pain seemed harder through the nylon than on the bare. My wife was riding the dildo excitedly now as I groaned each time the cane landed. Getting through those thirty strokes was tough going but eventually she stopped using that cane.

I figured that she might be trying to hold off her orgasm as I felt her tease me with the third cane. This is the whippy one that leaves a lot of thin marks and ridges for quite a few days.  Perversely I enjoy taking a caning from this stick more than any other and, when I can get into sub space, I often wish she would go on for longer. I invited the strokes by lifting my bottom high each time my wife paused.

Little by little, thwack by thwack, we came to the end of the ninety strokes and there was no orgasm achieved. My wife pulled the vibrator out and told me to get up and fetch the bath brush. Passing it to her she told me to get down by the side of her and use my mouth. I can usually make her come quite quickly in this position.

 As I licked my lips and placed my mouth over her perfumed lips, I was perfectly placed for her languid swats of the brush on my bottom.

 After the caning these broad flat spanks were darned painful and in an effort to bring a halt to  the smacking I used my tongue with maximum skill. I was fortunate. My wife was more than ready and she came in less than a minute or so.  She gave up on the brush spanking and just lay back as I administered a flurry of cunnilingus licks to her mound which had her in orgasm maybe 5 or 6 times. When she was completely sated she rolled over on her side. Quietly I left her there to sleep and took myself off to the spare bedroom. I lay there in the quiet of the night, still enjoying the feel of the panty-hose and my very hot bottom but resisting the urge to touch myself. I was hoping that it would be my turn to come on the next time we are having sex.

Good weekend and more to come.

There was no spanking over the weekend, as there seemed to be too much to do preparing for Christmas and the impending arrival of house guests.

There was, however, a very enjoyable sexual encounter on Saturday evening, after my wife had a few too many glasses of wine. I was not allowed penetration or orgasm but everything else was up for grabs, so to speak. My wife was in an energetic frame of mind so there were many positions adopted and much movement on the bed.

My lips and tongue explored every space and opening on her wonderful body. My bottom was playfully slapped and my bits were spanked pretty hard.

After she had reached quite a number of shuddering orgasms we were both wide awake so I tidied up the bed, she took a shower and we went back downstairs to watch TV. I found a B/W film on the internet service and for once we enjoyed a film where there was no blood, shooting, expletives or bad stuff. Just Cary Grant kissing an attractive woman and dealing with some contrived situation.

As we got ready for bed my wife suggested that I could have a Christmas special on Monday, today, and that would be my last until after the festivities are over, because people will be in the house.  If I behave myself over the holidays, she also promised a full blown session on New Years Eve before we go out.  This has perked me up considerably and I am sitting here anticipating a very sore bottom in a few hours. Strange how much I want that but I guess spankos are a bit odd.

Sunday spanklet - Seasonal thoughts

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

Henry got to the door quickly and opened it to find an attractive girl stood in the porch. It was cold outside and she was dressed in large white fur coat.


 “Come in, come in,” he said standing to one side to usher her into the warmth of the house and then closed the front door.

He held out his hands to take the coat from her and as she slowly peeled it open he knew that all his Christmases had come at once. 
Santa’s, not so little, helper stood there looking gorgeous in her tight red outfit with the shortest fur trimmed skirt and the longest legs in the world. 


Without taking her eyes from his, she dropped down to her knees in front of him and took him into her mouth….

“What on earth?”

Just as Henry was about to explode, with his dick in one hand and the fantasy in his head, his wife Lizzie had arrived home early from shopping to find her husband lying on his back on the bed. Worse still, he was wearing a pair of her finest silk panties  but they were placed incongruously over his head, like some sort of blindfold, and he had obviously been sniffing at the crotch whilst masturbating.

“Explain yourself Henry. You are supposed to be decorating the house not wanking away the afternoon!”

He scrabbled to sit up properly, trying to pull away the ridiculously small pants from his head.

“Oh for god’s sake, stay where you are!  In fact you can turn over onto your stomach. I see that I am going to have to teach you a lesson.”

Lizzie turned to face her younger sister, who up until now had been standing at the bedroom door, open-mouthed with surprise.

Brushing past her in a storm of anger Lizzie told her she was going to fetch a cane and thrash some sense into Henry.

“You may as well stay there Sally and watch how to deal with a husband, should you ever be silly enough to want get married!”

Punishment book - the crop makes an appearance.

The session last Sunday, when the Punishment Book was brought out, had a painful start with the paddle. After 80 sharp whacks and some time spent ironing clothes, I was sent upstairs and told to prepare for the cane and crop.

When my wife finally arrived in the bedroom I was facing the corner with my hands on my head. I heard her move about the room and then turned to face her, when I was told to do so. She was dressed in a black body (the ones where the fastening is at the crotch) and tights and pumps. To say that she looked stunning was an understatement.

“So Michael, we should continue I think.”

She picked up the riding crop from the bed.

I nodded and bowed my head, whilst she carried on speaking.

“I have added up that there are at least 50 strokes with the cane, 30 strokes with the crop, 50 strokes with either and then an unknown punishment for mooching around after women in short skirts. I am uncertain what I should do about that entry in the book. I admire you for owning up to your perverted behaviour but I am not sure I want to be married to someone who behaves like that.”

My wife had been walking around me all this time, prodding and tapping my body with the tip of the crop. As she reached the end of the scolding she slashed the crop across the front of my legs and I jumped with startled shock.

“If we could find that woman you were letching  after I would make you apologise. As it is I will just have to make sure that you never do that sort of creepy thing again.”

I stood still and quiet, as there was nothing to say.

She placed the tip of the crop under my chin and used it to raise me head until I was looking straight at her.

“You will not be doing that again, will you?”

“No ma’am”

“Put your hands against the wall and push your bottom out. I am going to whip you until I feel like stopping. That will take care of everything except 80 cane strokes, which will stay in the book for another day. Once I have finished with you I want you to get my little friend out and go the spare room. I don’t want to see you until the morning. Is that understood?”

“Yes ma’am.” I got myself in position and waited. She flicked the leather tab of the crop teasingly over my back, bottom and then in between  my legs.

When she started the whipping I new she meant business. I could hear the whizz of the crop as it flashed through the air behind me and crackled across my bare bottom. Don’t as me why, but the sensation and pain of being thrashed like this go straight to place in my head where I experience a mixture of pleasure and fear.

By stepping back and lowering my head, I was actually pushing my bottom out to try and invite the strokes.

Patiently and carefully my wife beat me across the backs of my legs and my bottom. I entered that space where I became numb to the pain. It was enjoyable but there was a sense that I deserved what I was getting so that made it endurable. Finally after many minutes she stopped and ordered me to turn around with my hands on my head.

“I hope you will remember this before you disobey me another time.”

She smacked the crop six times across the tops of legs and I flinched with each. Tapping my soft penis and balls with the tab of the crop quite hard she reinforced her message.

“There won’t be time for the cane before Christmas,” she said. “I hope you will be well behaved over the holiday or there will be more to be added. I will deal with you on New Years  before we go out. It will be nice for my friends to see what a well behaved husband I‘ve got.”

I nodded in acceptance.

“Get my vibrator and make yourself scarce”

“And no touching yourself tonight, “ she commanded as I picked up the unused cane and too the crop from her hand.

“No ma’am. Thank you for taking the time to punish me.”

Dealing with the Punishment Book

Yesterday was a long day. I knew that the Punishment Book was going to be called for, I just did not know when.  The fact that I was going to be bending over for the cane at some stage was irrefutable but my wife teased me by not giving any indication that this was anything other than a normal Sunday. I did some chores and then we went out for a pub lunch with friends. We came home and put up some Christmas decorations. I did a few e mails and then set about the ironing at around 6pm.

I was maybe half way through the pile of clothes when my wife put down the phone to her Mother and told me to stop what I was doing and fetch the book and the large paddle with holes. I very nearly questioned her as to which book she was referring to, but thought better of it.

As I handed the black book to her, open at the current page, and laid the paddle on the sofa she did not look up.

“Strip and get down on all fours.” she commanded.

I got naked quickly and knelt on the carpet in the centre of the room.

“There is so much here it is difficult to know where to begin.”

I said nothing and kept my head low between my arms on the floor.

“I will start with 50 strokes with the paddle for flirting and another 30 with the paddle for missing that appointment with the dentist.”

She stood over my head facing towards me.

“Kiss my feet and apologise and ask me to punish you”

I shuffled forward and did as I was told.

“Now crawl between my legs and get your bottom up high”

She gripped my waist between her calves and swung the paddle high and hard landing it vertically down the left cheek of my bottom and the top of my leg. It was hard, very hard, and I grunted.

“Be silent or it will be worse for you. I don’t like whinging boys.”

She swung again and the paddle cracked against the other cheek. She paused maybe only a few seconds and then it was the third stroke.  The whoosh-smack of the paddling continued relentlessly. I tried to keep count in my head to begin with but found that all I could do was concentrate on absorbing the pain. I quite enjoy the flat broad strokes of the paddle when it is used across my bottom in a maintenance spanking, but the ferocity of the pain when my wife does each side in this fashion is excruciating. It is a serious punishment and I know she knows it.

The seconds and the minutes passed slowly with the steady whack, pause, whack, pause  and my legs were blazing with heat. I started squealing at one point and was told to be quiet. I had my head resting on the carpet and my weight was on my elbows as I strained to stay in position.

“Fifty. You have a very red ass. In fact in places it is quite purple.” My wife stopped smacking my behind  and rested the end of the paddle on my back.

“Thirty to go. What do you have to say for yourself?”

“I’m sorry ma’am. Thank you for teaching me a lesson ma’am.”

“Well let’s just see how much more sorry I can make you shall we?”

She released her grip on me and came round to my side. I took a deep breath as the paddle was raised and then cracked diagonally across my two cheeks. The pain exploded in my head again and the paddling continued. When she reached fifteen my wife took up position on my other side and started again. Surprisingly those thirty strokes passed in a blur, one stroke seemed to blend into another. I was deep into the punishment by this stage and I felt that the only things in my existence were my painful swollen bottom and that whacking sound as the paddle landed time after time.

Finishing with a flourish she gave me the final smacks with extra effort and then dropped the paddle down in front of me.

“Get up and finish the ironing. I am going for a shower. Then I want a snack whilst I watch a programme.”

Slowly, achingly I got to my feet and picked up the paddle.  I laid it on the arm of the sofa and watched her leave the room. I put my hands on my bottom and felt the heat of roasted skin. Naked, I went off to the kitchen to prepare a soup and salad and then resumed the ironing.

When she reappeared my wife had a dressing gown on and I was intrigued as to what might be underneath it. I served her the meal on a tray and then ate my own meal standing at the kitchen island (our kitchen and family area are one room). When I had cleared everything away she asked to inspect my bottom, which she declared as being nicely red and still marked, and then sent me upstairs to our bedroom to clean up and wait for her in the corner. She handed me the punishment book and the paddle and told me to get the cane and crop out from the chest.

What happened later on that evening will have to wait for tomorrow’s blog as this one is already long enough.

Sunday Spanklet - Short sharp lesson

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

They were now on their third date after Edward had responded to Julie’s advert in the Women seeking Men column of the Times. They had their first meeting in a bar, the second as a walk around the park and now today they met for lunch at a nice pub restaurant. Julie had suggested that they go back to her place and as they were walking back to their separate cars Edward had given her a playful slap on the bottom of her denim dress. She had glared at him quite hard and told him not to do that, so he figured he might just have blown his chances of some afternoon delight back at hers. He followed her car without much concentration on the road as he was thinking about how to win Julie over. The lunch had gone quite well he thought so it was a shame to think he might have spoilt it. He didn’t see the traffic light turn red as Julie passed over the junction until it was too late and he had gone through the light, hard on her tail.

Once they had parked on her drive Julie welcomed him into her house and he made a comment about how nice the décor was and how she had nice things. Julie offered to make coffee. As they stood in the large kitchen and chatted away in a lively fashion, it seemed to Edward that she had mellowed and his chances upstairs might be good.

As he sipped the coffee Julie took her large handbag and placed it on the dining table. She then picked up a wooden chair and turned it around so that it was facing into the room. Sitting down on the chair Julie called Edward over to her.

He thought he should sit down as well but she told him to stand and then turned to take something out the handbag. She passed him a slip of paper.

“Read this out please Edward”

He saw it was the original advert that had been placed in the newspaper. He had no idea what this was all about but he cleared his throat and began to speak.

“This slim, attractive, stylish lady, late 30’s enjoys skiing, tennis, travel, music and fun would like to meet the perfect gentleman for romance. Respect for traditional values, right wing politics and a disciplined attitude  are essential. Call me now on voicebox 5437.”

Edward looked over at  Julie when he had finished. He had not noticed that she had undone some of the buttons in the centre of her dress and the two sides had fallen away exposing a considerable length of leg. He could just see the lacy top of her stay up stockings and he stiffened inside his trousers with the erotic vista.

“Well Edward, the traditional part of that advert refers to the fact  that I am a firm believer in good behaviour and the discipline is what I give out.”

Julie again turned to the handbag and took out a large wood backed hairbrush. Edward could not know it but it was manufactured by Kent & Co and was one of the most expensive in their range. He looked at her legs, the hairbrush and then her stern face and suddenly he had an idea where this scenario might be heading.

“ So let’s recap shall we Edward?”

Julie paused and screwed up her courage to continue. This was the first time she had spanked a man. She had seen how her best friend Hannah kept her husband in check and Hannah had described in detail the spankings and canings that were a part of their happy married life. Julie had resolved that,from now on, any serious relationship she would have would be with a man who accepted that she was in charge.

Julie motioned Edward to come closer and lifted his sweater up from his waist before starting to slowly, almost sensually, unbuckle the leather belt around his trousers.

“First you were very rude to that poor waitress at lunch about the slow service. I now you were showing off to impress me but I will not tolerate a man who is rude to women, no matter what job they are doing!”

By this stage Julie had unzipped his trousers and they had fallen to Edwards ankles. He was under no illusions now as he stared at the hairbrush lying across the very attractive lap. As Julie inserted her fingers into the waistband of his pants she went on-

“Second I did not appreciate you whacking my bottom in the car park. I will not be treated as some piece of female meat that you can slap in public.”

The pants were coming down now inch by inch and his erection was waving waving around in front of her face.

“And then to top it all I saw you driving carelessly like some sort of boy racer, and going through a red traffic light. I would have waited for you further down the road you know.”

“ Yes, miss. I am sorry. That was foolish I know”

He was naked below the waist  as his pants had slid down his legs and his response had been prompted by the foolish, childish nature of his predicament.

“Good. I like your apology but you should call me Ma’am not Miss when you are about to be punished. Am I making myself clear?”

“Yes Ma’am. Sorry Ma’am”

Edward looked a bit shamefaced now and his stomach was churning as he imagined what might follow

Julie picked up the hairbrush and pointed at her lap.

“Right then. Over you go. I am about to teach you a lesson you will not forget in a hurry.”

Reaching back into her handbag one more time as Edward lay prostrate with his white bare bottom cheeks in the air, Julie pulled out her mobile phone.

“This is so handy,” she said in a jocular tone. “It is now 3.10 and I am going to set the alarm for 3.15. You will find out that 5 minutes of hairbrush time with me is a very long time indeed.”

“Yes ma’am.” The quiet voice came up from the carpet. 


Edward did indeed sound worried.

Punishment book - time to pay the piper

We were in bed reasonably early last night . My wife had her pyjamas on and had resisted my suggestion that she could remove the lower half so that we might make love. She was reading her novel and I was dozing off to sleep when she suddenly nudged me and told me to go and get the Punishment Book. I knew that a review of its contents was well overdue but I was unprepared for any punishment and I was unsure if I could get my head into the zone at that moment. Anyway, I did not argue.

I retrieved the slim black volume from the drawer in the study and returned to the bedroom. As I handed it over, my wife instructed me to remove my pants and kneel by the side of the bed with my hands on my head.

Slowly she turned the pages until she came to the one with the unspent list of errors and omissions on my part. In a careful stern voice she began to read out what was written.

“50 strokes cane disobedience, not reading note in kitchen. What was that about?” she asked.

I reminded her that I had failed to see a note she had left, requiring me to fix a drink for her bath time and be ready for a maintenance session

“30 strokes paddle flirting BBQ. Yes, I was particularly mad with you that day. I think I might make the punishment 50 strokes, now that I think about it.”

“30 strokes no instrument, dentist. That was a stupid thing to do  and it cost us money, you not keeping that appointment.”

“Yes ma’am. “ I agreed.

“You do not speak unless I ask you to – remember that. Well, let’s make that 30 with the cane.”

She read out the next line in the book.

“Following woman in supermarket. What on earth is this?”

I kept my head down looking at the floor and explained what it meant, and all about the plaid mini skirt, and that it was a self confession because I knew I should not have done it. Strangely my wife made no comment but went on to read out the next two entries which were 50 strokes for wearing knickers for my own enjoyment and a note that I had let the bank account go into an unauthorised overdraft.

“I can’t believe I have let things slip so much. It must be over two months now since you were properly dealt with?” 

She closed the book and placed it on the bedside table.

I saw her wriggle around under the duvet and then she swung both legs over the edge of the bed.

“Come here and do the one thing you are good at.”

I shuffled forward a few inches and buried my face between her legs.

As she lay back contentedly on the bed and I began the slow circle movements around her lips with my tongue, she told me how much she was looking forward to sorting out the punishment list this weekend.

“Yes ma’am.Thank you ma’am.” I mumbled from the depths.

Sunday Spanklet - Restrictions

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

The tight panties constricted his testicles as he sat down at the long table in the elegant boardroom. He regretted his wife’s instructions that he should wear this feminine item of clothing on this day of all days, because the meeting would last for a number of hours and he was too junior in the company to stand and pace around the room, in the way that some of the older directors were accustomed to do. At least they get the chance to wriggle their balls as they took a few paces around the richly carpeted room, in order to stretch their legs. He couldn’t even risk a furtive dive into his waistband to rearrange his gear, squeezed inside the warm cocoon of the blue lacy nylon knickers. The panties were at least two sizes too small for him and had been chosen by his wife as he accompanied her on a shopping trip. She had deliberately bought a pair for herself as well so that when the assistant pointed out the size difference between her silky thong and the lacy blue pants, his dear wife had chimed out in a loud voice, you are correct, the blue ones are for him, pointing at him. To his shame she went on to tell whoever was listening that she liked to cater for her husband’s feminine side. As they had walked away from the cash desk he had to face the grinning faces of the other two women in the queue. He complained about her making this purchase so public but was told that he had now earned himself a caning as soon as they got home for talking back to her and that it would be a punishment he was not likely to forget.

Now that he sat in his place at the large boardroom table, waiting for people to arrive at the meeting, he looked through his papers and in particular at the pink piece of paper that his wife had placed in his briefcase that morning. She had written that she had invited her friend Julie to dinner that evening and she expected him to make dinner and generally be useful. He was to be home early having bought a list of shopping on the way and dinner was to be ready at eight. She had written the words Formal Attire in capitals so he knew he was to wear only an apron, a pair of hold up stockings with pumps and some panties and that she expected drinks as soon as her guest arrived. The meal would be served in the dining room and he knew that she wanted impeccable behaviour from him. Julie was one of her friends who had been told of his submissive role at home and as a divorcee she had been at their house many times before when he had to serve the two of them. He had even been sent to Julie’s house one weekend when he had been badly behaved and had to clean her house from top to bottom. Julie had seen him punished about 6 or 8 times and had participated in the caning or strapping of his bottom. To his knowledge she was the only person that his wife had told about their female led relationship but he couldn’t be sure and he would not dream of asking.

As he sat  in the Board Room he was sorting out his papers when his phone beeped with the message. It was from his wife and she was asking if he was sitting comfortably.

- No, he texted back.

-Too bad. 24 stk 4 u , she had responded

When he finally arrived home and closed the door on the busy world he heard the voice from the top of the stairs.

“Hello darling. Come upstairs please.”

Slowly he climbed each stair, shedding his clothes one by one as he went. When he faced his wife in the bedroom he was wearing just the blue knickers and the tip his erection bulged out from the tight elastic. She swished the cane vigorously and pointed at the chair. The anticipation of the 24 strokes whipping onto his bottom had his head buzzing and his legs trembling.