Disciplined behaviour

Sunday spanklet - Airport check-in

2012-03-18T11:32:00.001Z

“They didn’t fucking charge me in London when I came out here,” he said in a loud voice.

“Well the case is overweight, sir. Please go to the ticket desk over there and pay for 3 kilos extra.” The girl smiled sweetly. “There is no need to rejoin the queue. Just come back here with the voucher.”

“I bloody well will not! I am fed up with this country and the money grabbing people. Just check my bag in and give me my boarding pass.”

“I am sorry sir. I can’t do that. Please go and pay the extra amount.”

As he stood there glaring at her trying in vain to impose his will, a tall woman in the dark blue airline uniform came up behind the check-in girl.

“Is there a problem here?” she enquired.

“Yes there is a fucking problem. I travel extensively with this airline and I have never had to pay extra for my baggage. This girl does not seem to understand English.”

“We all speak very good English here, sir” said the older woman fixing him with steely eyes. “Please come this way, sir, and we will sort this out this problem.”

“About fucking time,” he growled, picking up his bags and following her around the end of the check -n desks. She led him down a corridor under the rattling ceiling fans. He was so busy admiring the shapely legs beneath her tight uniform skirt that he failed to notice the gesture she made to a woman police officer standing at the end of the corridor.

Stopping at what seemed to be some sort of office, the customer service manager held open the door and waved him in. As the door closed behind him he did not see the police officer slip quietly into the room but he did hear the obvious sound of a lock being turned.

The room was large but sparely furnished with a desk and some chairs. The overhead fan hummed and turned slowly, not doing much to reduce the heat in the concrete block walled structure. Aside from the desk the only other item of furniture was a strangely shaped wooden stool in the corner. The police woman took up a position leaning against one wall.

“Put your bag down, sir.”

He did as he was told. The airline manager seemed to have lost her smile and she spoke with some authority in her voice.

“Now listen to me young man, the days of empire are well and truly over. You can no longer go around demanding things in this country and you certainly cannot use foul language in front of my staff. Do you understand?”

Taken by surprise by her attack, he mumbled “Yes”. He was being to panic a little bit.

“It’s Ma’am to you!”

He stared at her, nearly ready to adopt an arrogant attitude but changed his mind. Now was not a good time to argue he decided.

“Yes ma’am.”

“You need to learn some manners, but I am feeling generous so I will offer you a choice in how you learn that lesson. You can either stay in this room for two days, miss your flight and pay for a new ticket or,” she paused, “or my colleague here will deal with you in a traditional manner of my country.”

He turned to glance at the slim athletic looking woman in the smart green uniform. She gave him a look that made his blood run cold.

As if on cue, the police officer moved to a cupboard on the wall and opened it to show an array of half a dozen canes neatly arranged on horizontal hooks.

“Well, I’m waiting for an answer.” The manager spoke sharply

“I can’t stay here,” he complained. “I’m due back at work tomorrow and I don’t have enough money to buy another ticket.”

“In that case we will deal with the matter quickly and you may still catch this flight.”

The woman nodded at the police officer and he heard the rattle of a cane being lifted from its fixing.”

“Go over to that bench and lower your trousers.”

In a daze he did as he had been instructed. The police woman stood menacingly to one side of the bench, holding the cane in both hands, as he slowly unbuckled his belt and let the trousers fall to the floor.

“Now bend over.” came a second command.

Slowly he lowered himself over the leather topped stool. His torso was at an angle and his head was now below his waist. In a quick movement the airline employee knelt to fasten each wrist to the legs of the frame and then, darting swiftly behind him, she yanked his shorts down to his feet, before passing a belt across the back of his knees and buckling it tightly.

As he lay there, with a trembling in the pit of his stomach, he watched the polished brown shoes of the police officer take up position to the left of his feet. He could just see the tip of the long cane quivering near her ankles

“Give him twelve hard strokes officer. That should be sufficient.”

He moaned softly in anticipation of the biting strokes on his bare bottom and cursed himself for his stupid behaviour. Always do what the airport staff tell you, his wife had cautioned him. They can make your life a misery if you get on the wrong side of them. He wondered how he would hide the marks from her when he got home and then forgot all about home, the plane, his job, everything in fact except the white heat of that rattan cane as it landed for the first time across his naked flesh.

Half an hour later he was standing in front of the check-in girl holding the pre-paid voucher for the excess luggage. Behind her, stood the manager.

“Please may I have my boarding pass Miss,” he asked politely.

“Of course sir,” replied the smiling girl. “ I hope you have enjoyed your stay in our beautiful country and have learned a lot about our customs.”

“Yes, thank you Miss,” the smart executive replied as he bent down in some obvious pain, to retrieve his carry-on bag. “I have learned a lot from all of you.”

Sunday spanklet - An appointment

2012-01-22T03:31:00.002Z

This time he had come too far. He was inside her house now and his heart was beating fast. On two occasions he had made an appointment and each time he had cancelled at the last minute. She had given him a hard time when he had called to book again but that had spurred him on. Now he had to say sorry in person.

He had his face turned into the wall whilst she read his note. This had been a condition of their meeting. She wanted to know why he felt he should be punished and for what. Describing his errors and omissions had taken longer than he had expected, when he had first sat down with a pen and a blank sheet of paper.

She had received him with a smile at the front door and the agreed token had been handed without embarrassment on either part. Courteously he presented his letter. He was ushered into a shower room and told to knock on the door further down the corridor when he was clean and prepared.

Once inside the room they looked each other over. The two of them could not have been dressed more differently. He was in a plain cotton T- shirt and thong underpants which he had to buy especially from a "boy" shop in Soho. She was wearing a crisp white shirt and a black skirt which reached over the knees of her long legs.

The sitting room was large and airy and like most Edwardian spaces it had a high ceiling. The furniture was modern and her style of decoration worked well against the light wood finish of the laminated wood floor. There were rugs scattered about and their bright colours contrasted with the white painted walls. An untrained eye would not have identified the alternative use of some items of furniture. For example the ottoman at one end of the room was a few inches higher than normal and had a solid rolled end, the Victorian wooden chair against the wall was sturdier than most, the curtain rail was fixed rigidly to the wall and had silk ropes hanging down from each side of the shuttered French door windows that led into the garden. The coffee table was plain oak with four solid legs and was kept clear of magazines and books and the footstool by the side was covered a tan leather cushioned top and was slightly larger than is usual. Guests could be received here without any awareness that it was also used for spanking and discipline sessions.

On entering the room he had seen that the large paddle, riding crop and a long cane were laid on the top of the footstool, alongside a strap on dildo and lubricant. He had a flash of second thoughts but steeled himself for what was to come. She took charge immediately and told him to stand in one corner and wait with his hands on his head. The scolding began and she paced around the room, holding the letter in one hand and reading it aloud whilst occasionally swishing the cane through the air in an arc from high to low. Once or twice she stopped behind him and adjusted his posture with a tap from the end of the rattan stick.

After many minutes of lecturing and warnings she called him over to bring the chair and place it in the centre of the room. Slowly and carefully she told him how he was going to be punished. His erection burst through the top of the elastic waistband of the tiny pants and his brain went to mush with excitement.

As he bent over the back of the chair to receive the harsh strokes of the paddle, he marvelled at his wife’s ability to role play and savoured his heartfelt submission to her. Her work might take her away from home for long periods but that was because she was good at her executive job.

He took a deep breath as the hard wood smacked into his bare cheeks and surrendered himself totally to their playtime.

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The end - for a while at any rate.

Not quite gone.

2012-01-20T17:02:00.001Z

Before I leave blogspace for a while I have one Spanklet for this coming Sunday.

I also have this account of a Christmas a few years back, written at a time when I thought I might start to blog but didn't. I came across it when I was sorting out my laptop last night so I offer it now for fun's sake. I think I might have sent it to a spanking blogger at the time. I hope it is of interest.

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Over the Christmas season my wife and I exchanged conventional presents in the company of the our extended family and later that day we gave each other our personal presents in the privacy of our bedroom. In past years these have been gifts of silk lingerie from me to her and her present to me has been to wear the gift whilst performing one sort of sexual favour or another. In early December of last year my wife indicated that she had enough lingerie in her drawer so I should think of giving her something different and she would do the same for me.

I pored over Amazon and came up with the idea of giving her a cheque for a sum of money inside a book. My choice of book was the Mistress Manual: A Good Girl's Guide to Female Dominance by Mistress Lorelei. Amazon delivered it to my office and I wrote a cheque for £200 and wrapped up the package nicely. I admit to reading a number of chapters and was pleased with my choice. Whilst there was nothing startlingly new in the book it is well written and is directed more at Domestic Discipline readers than at the professional Dominatrix.

Late on Christmas night, when everyone was asleep after a long day with too many drinks, my wife and I sat on our bed and she gave me her gift. It turned out to be the Body Shop bath brush I held it gingerly in my hands recognising that this was an implement that could deliver a hefty wallop when used on a naked butt. I thanked her with a kiss and made some comment about how useful it would be in the shower. She replied that it might well be but that I could probably guess that wasn't going to be its only use.

My gift to her was handed over and I felt a little nervous as she opened it. The cheque was well received and, to my distinct relief, so was the book. I accepted her thank you kiss and she went off to get ready for bed. When she returned in a rather plain set of pyjamas I realised that sex was off the agenda. Instead she sat up in bed and reached for the book. I must have looked a little crestfallen because she smiled across at me and said that there was no Christmas special that night but that something might happen once we had the house to ourselves. She added that she expected her gift to me to be hanging on its own new hook in the bathroom by the end of the next day.

Three nights went by with no lovemaking until all the relatives had left and we were truly on our own. My wife told me that she was going for a bath and that maybe I should close up the house and wait for her on the bed. She added that it would be good idea to be in my shorts and that I might want to get a few toys ready. I needed no second invitation and did as she said. I took her a glass of wine in the bath and left her in peace. She was reading the Manual as she luxuriated in the hot bubble filled water.

I showered in the guest room suite and took out our toy bag leaving it in plain view in the bedroom. I lit a few candles and lay back on the bed. I had to wait quite awhile and my fingers kept finding their way into my pants to caress my erection. Unfortunately my hand was in just such a position when my wife came through the dressing room door dressed in a short silk kimono and wearing her high heels. She saw what I had been doing and scolded me that I should be ashamed of myself. She raised the bath brush in her hand and told me she would be sorting me out for all the things that I had done wrong over the Holiday period and for some of the grumpy behaviour that I had demonstrated. My stomach was a mix of excitement and trepidation as I realised that tonight might involve some painful moments.

I lay on the bed as my wife went to get the toy bag. She put the dreaded bath brush down on the dresser stool and slowly opened the drawstring on the velvet bag. I watched with a stiffening erection as she teasingly pulled out the stainless steel butt plug (which I have to wash and keep clean after use) followed by the small multi thronged whip. Turning to me she said that was all we would need that night and told me to get the jelly from the bedside drawer and lie back on the bed. As she stood over me she ran a finger nail across my belly and pulled the front of my pants down until the elastic waistband was hooked under my scrotum. She told me to put my hands behind my head and then trailed the leather thongs of the whip down over my chest and across my penis which started to take on a life of its own in sexual anticipation. I was in ecstasy as she tickled my penis, balls and inner thighs with the whip although I knew that this intense moment of pleasure would be a fleeting one.

With small almost casual movements my wife changed tempo with the whip and began to lash it across my penis and down to my inner thighs. She moved the whip up and down between these areas and I held my breath against the stinging pain. For me this form of slow, almost gentle, whipping is an indescribable mix of pain and pleasure. I could not help myself begging her not to stop as the pain of the lash of the thong was quickly followed by the stinging sensation of hot skin. My fingers were laced together above my head so that I could resist the urge to protect my genitals but my hips seemed to buck up and down to search for the next lash.

My wife spoke to me about how naughty I had been and how she was looking forward to spanking me. For about another 3 minutes she flicked away with the whip and smiled with a wicked satisfaction at my enjoyment and agony.

Her next instruction was for me to stand and remove my pants and bend over. I thought that she might whip me again but instead I felt cold fingers push my legs farther apart and I heard her squirt some jelly from the tube. Gently she pushed the tip of the plug into my anus and turned it slowly until the bulbous part of the plug slipped through and it was in place. I squirmed with the discomfort and wriggled as I tried to keep bent over. I was told to stand up and walk about and my wife giggled as she followed me giving me little swipes with the whip across my white cheeks. When she was satisfied that the butt was firmly in place and she had had her fun she turned in front of me and slowly removed her kimono. Asking me if I liked what I saw I said yes and she stepped away to give me a spin showing off her cute bare bottom. I gazed at what was on offer and promised my eternal devotion. She moved over to the bed and plumped up the pillows before sitting on the bed completely nude except for her shoes.

She gestured for me to climb onto the bed and indicated with her finger where she wanted me to focus my attention. As I lay down with body at a right angle to hers, so that my head was between her legs, she reached for the bath brush. My bottom was in easy reach of her right hand in this position and as I started work with my tongue she ran the back of the brush up and down my legs and over the curve of my cheeks. I concentrated on the job in hand and clenched my buttocks a few times in anticipation of the spanking that I knew was coming. My wife squirmed on the bed and got herself comfortable and then I sensed that the brush had been lifted off my rear. It came back with a sharp slap and I jumped with the shock of the pain. This bath brush was indeed a fearsome instrument and much worse than any hairbrush. The next five strokes came hard and fast and I was amazed at how hard the spanking felt. As I shifted around and got comfortable I began to lick her with a passion and she started the spanking again, this time on the crest of my other cheek. Another six strokes were delivered and my bottom felt incredibly hot. I was told to lie still and take another twelve strokes which she delivered hard and fast. Obviously I couldn’t concentrate on her pussy; I was much too busy stifling my groans as each swat was drummed onto my red cheeks. I quickly passed into that numbing stage where the endorphins had kicked in and each stroke felt pleasurable just before the pain kicked in. When the last smack was delivered I lay quietly with my head on her thigh and listened to her tell me that she hoped I would be better behaved in the future. I quickly agreed that I would and my wife told me to get on with what I was supposed to be doing. She added that I was going to get a smack every thirty seconds until I completed my mission so it was up to me to perform. I set to work with my tongue and I could almost sense her resisting a climax so that she could smack me some more. Normally I can get her to an orgasm within two or three minutes so I was surprised to get ten more smacks with that dreadful brush before she finally gripped her thighs together and groaned with pleasure. We both lay there panting with the exertion. I was gasping for a breath whilst sporting a very red hot bottom and she was breathing hard with a nice tingling pussy. As I rolled my tongue slowly inside her, drawing out a second orgasm, she whispered that I had at last been a good boy. I managed to give her the second orgasm and then a third until I finallyI pulled away to roll onto my back. The sheets felt cool on my rear end and I grasped my flaccid prick to rub some life into it.

I was told to leave my erection alone and to put the toys away. I collected up the whip and the brush and left her alone. Once in the bathroom I eased the plug from my sore bottom and wiped it down before putting everything else away. When I got back to the bedroom my wife was dozing, close to the edge of a deep sleep. As I crawled under the sheets she leaned over and kissed me and asked if I had had a good Christmas present. I kissed her back and agreed that it had been special. Her last words were for me to leave my prick alone and that she would attend to it in the morning. I am glad to report that she did just that!

An intermission

2012-01-19T17:32:00.000Z

I am going off line for a while. My brain has turned to melting chocolate with worry about work and finance in my business and I have lost the interest in blogging. I leave you with a couple of favourite images.

I will be back one day I hope.
Thanks for your support and interest.

The teacher I would have respected.

Time to sort things out.

Sunday spanklet - Turning things around

2012-01-15T07:10:00.000Z

Are you angry?

Disappointed really.

Look I’m sorry.

Maybe you are but that’s not the point. I am not working to put you through college, just to have you out drinking with your friends and lounging around at home.

I know.

Do you? Do you know what that place is like? Full of pre historic chauvinist men who think it’s funny to laugh about tits and bums. God, they drive you mad. And now I’m getting the same treatment at home.

Not really.

Yes, really. You’re supposed to be working your butt off studying so we can get a better life once you graduate and here you are spending our money faster than I can make it. I’ve been to see your tutor you know and she agrees that you aren’t handing in stuff at the level you could be.

My tutor ? You can’t ask my tutor things!

Well I did. And I talked to Katie about our problem.

So now you’re discussing me with my tutor and my godmother ?

Yes I am, and she had some good advice and sent me something helpful in the post. Do you want to guess what it is?

No.

Because you already know don’t you. She says it worked a treat when she caught you taking money out of her purse. Well here’s the deal. If you want me to stick around and marry you then things are going to change. No more drinking with the boys, you do your share of the housework and we both go to your tutor every month to talk about your studies.

Oh come on.

I mean it. Either that or you leave right now.

OK. OK. I agree.

Good and there’s one more thing. Drop your trousers and bend over that table. It’s time you got reintroduced to Katie’s hairbrush. Like I say, there are going to be changes round here.

Sunday Spanklet -Bedroom capers

2012-01-08T05:31:00.000Z

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

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I was lying under Sandra as she impaled herself on my manhood. Her breasts hung down in front of me and I lifted my head off the pillow to take one nipple in my mouth.

“Nip it. Nip it with your teeth.”

I took the hard tip of flesh between my teeth and bit, gently at first and then with more force, rolling my tongue around the ring of pink tissue.

“Spank me!”

“What?” I asked.

“Spank me, now.”

Sandra let herself down on her elbows, bringing the soft curve of her bottom cheeks within reach of my hand. I moved underneath her to get in a better position and then without warning I brought my open palm crashing down on her butt. I could feel the warmth in my hand as I rested it on the soft skin.

“Do it again. Harder.” Sandra demanded.

Smack, smack.

“Both sides.” She urged me on.

My back arched and my penis slipped further inside her, the tip touching the walls of her insides. I tried to support her weight, at the same time as freeing both of my hands to caress her bottom. I rubbed her with a few circular motions over her pink skin as I made upward thrusts against her hard mound.

Smack, on one side, then smack on the other. I beat a tattoo on her ass as she wriggled on top of me.

“Harder, smack the middle bit.” Sandra demanded as she squirmed and wriggled on top of me.

“I can’t,” I complained. “I can’t reach far enough to smack you.”

“OK. Wait a minute.” She slid to one side, keeping my cock inside but letting her bottom fall slightly to the left of me. My right hand could now extend across the full width of both cheeks. As she lay there, half on top, half by my side, I resumed the spanking, adding a thrust of my pelvis each time my hand slapped down. Our groins met and she pushed down hard to rub herself against my pelvic bone.

“I’m very naughty,” she whispered in my ear. “I’m your very naughty girl.”

“I know.” I grunted “And naughty girls get a good spanking.”

I spanked and spanked as we both started to climax.

“Me.” she said, “Just me. I want you to stay hard. Don’t you dare come”

I tried to do her bidding and moved again so that I could push against her but not feel quite the same grip on my penis. I tried to think just of her bottom and pushed the sensation in my glands out of mind. I saw in my head the deepening red hue in her bottom as I pushed and pulled back, pushed again and pulled away, smacking her rhythmically in time with my thrusts.

She gave the first shudder which signalled her pent up orgasm. I ground my pelvis more vigorously and slapped harder. We were both tense with the effort and I felt her clench her buttocks tightly, increasing her grip on my prick. Her vagina was slippery and the first of her juices slithered onto the hairs of my crotch. Sandra lifted herself slightly and then groaned.

“Don’t stop. Don’t stop.” She moaned.

I slapped and pushed and then pushed some more. With an audible groan Sandra gave one more shudder and then collapsed on top of my chest.

I lay still as she panted her appreciation. I knew that one small movement of her hips might have me gushing my come in to her soft satin-like labia.

“Tongue.” Sandra urged as she lifted herself off me and rose on to bent knees.

I shuffled down the bed until my face was directly under her hips. As she lowered herself I offered my tongue into the hidden folds and wrapped my mouth around the edges of her vagina. She moved slowly at first, then more rapidly and I composed myself to match my breathing in turn with the fall and rise of her athletic body.

Lick, nuzzle, breathe.

We fell into a routine based on two years of comfortable experience of lovemaking. Sandra came again within a few minutes, then she arched and came once again. I brought one arm up and then the other and slid both hands under her hips. I began to make slow circulations of my palms over the skin of her hot bottom cheeks. This had her groaning and writhing in seconds.

“Three,” she cried as I licked her. “Four. Oh God enough. No, forget that. Don’t you dare stop!”

I forced my tongue inside her until my jaw ached with the effort.

“Five. Six. Don’t stop, again, don’t stop.” Her thighs were clamped tightly around my head.

“ Seven!” Sandra practically shrieked as she wilted on the sheets like a rag doll.

She rolled over and curled up so that her scorched red bottom was in full view. I pulled myself up the bed and lay by her side with our heads close together and the warm cheeks nestling into my stomach.

“Seven. Seven glorious times,” she said breathlessly. “Your turn now. Soon, I just need to rest a minute.”

My prick had gone soft with all the concentration of effort but I thought I knew a way to get it back in action.

“I’ve been bad too.” I whispered in her ear.

“I know darling. You need to be punished. Why don’t you go and get the paddle so I can sort you out?”

An interesting start to the year

2012-01-02T16:56:00.000Z

Two things happened yesterday which were out of the ordinary. When we were getting ready to go to the pub in the evening with the friends who were staying in our house, my wife called me into our bathroom and locked the door. I did not have a clue what was going on. She told me to strip and lie on the floor. With one foot on the back of my neck she said she told me to beg and crave submission to her. I had done something similar a year or so back when we were in bed and it was very arousing at the time.

I lay there on the cold tiles and told her precisely how I would like to live as her servant and to be controlled by her in everything I do. When I had run out of things to say she asked me if I was playing a game. I said no, this is what I wanted above all else in my life. She said that she hoped that was true and I was left to lie there whist she carried on applying her make up and dressing.

When she went downstairs my wife told me to stay on the floor for 5 minutes and then get dressed. I was in a good place in my head.

The four of us went to the pub for a drink and when I ordered a wine for myself at the bar, my wife said in a loud voice that I was not to have alcohol for a month. The look in her eyes said it all.
“Submit or else. “

Back at the house my wife did nothing to help as I rushed around preparing the evening meal. It was only a pasta dish but there was still quite a lot of work involved. She poured plenty of wine for the three of them during the evening, whilst I sipped at my water. When one of them said that they admired my New Year’s resolution to detox in January, my wife intervened and said it wasn’t my idea, she had told me to do it. Again I got that look from her and this time I think it was noticed by the lady guest.

We played Monopoly and had a few laughs, as only good friends with a shared past can do.

I have a feeling that 2012 is going to bring some more surprises from my wife.

Saturday's session

2012-01-01T16:17:00.000Z

We had the house to ourselves on Saturday. Some friends were due to arrive at around 7 to drop off their car and then go with us to a party. They were to stay the night at our place and then go home on New Years Day.

Back to Saturday afternoon. My wife went off to town to buy some things for the house and for herself. I was left catching up on the ironing and floor cleaning and sorting out all the detritus of a Christmas week. At around 4pm I received a call from my wife telling she would be home in 30 minutes and that I should prepare things. She wanted her bath run and me ready, with 3 toys of my own choice. I put the phone down with a rush of blood to my head and that sinking feeling in my stomach, both of which are the usual reactions when I have just been told I am to be spanked.

I love the excitement of the anticipated pain (and pleasure).

By the time she arrived back at the house I was standing in the corner, in my pants and T shirt and hands on my head. Her bath was drawn with her bath salts and the bathroom was warm and candlelit.

The large holey paddle, a cane and a strap were on all the bed and the room was nicely lit with the curtains drawn. I was left waiting a further ten minutes or so, whilst my wife busied herself downstairs and then I heard the creak of her footsteps on the stairs.

There was an intense silence as I felt her presence behind me. Slowly she ran her hands over my bottom and around to the front and then back to my bottom again. I was wriggling with the stimulation and I pushed my bottom out to meet her hands.

“So shall we make you wait or get on with it?”

Teasingly she put her fingers into the waistband of my pants and started to pull them down. I didn’t dare say anything.

“You’ve been such a good bad boy this week that I think we’ll just start now, shall we?”

She pulled at my ear and turned me round.

“Get over the bench and pull your pants down.”

I doubt if there is a more electric phrase in a spanko’s vocabulary.

Just as I had dropped my pants and was about to get over the end of bed blanket box she gave another instruction.

“No wait. That’s too comfortable for you. Bend over and touch your toes instead.”

My touching toes days are behind me, but I got my hands down as low as I could. Then with no warning the paddle thwacked my bottom and the spanking had begun. Thirty strokes later I had lost my balance a few times but managed to remain in position so there were no extras. I had fully entered sub space and when the cane came next it was quite pleasurable to begin with, landing on my well reddened bottom. I had put out the thin whippy cane which my wife finds difficult to control, but I like to look at the weals it leaves once my punishment is over.

When she was satisfied with her work I was ordered over the bench to receive the strap. This is the instrument which I like the best. I ground my hips into the padded top and pushed my bottom up high. Carefully, with a long pause between the slaps, she gave me the 30 strokes. Each time the strap lands my wife drew it flat across my cheek in slow motion and I was in an ecstasy of submission. I was groaning with pleasure by 25 and the end of the strapping came all too quickly.

As I tidied up the bedroom and toys she went off for a long bath and to get ready for our friends arrival. I admired my well marked cheeks in the mirror in the guest room and then went downstairs to finish the preparations for drinks and nibbles.

Although I hadn’t expected it to be, the dinner and dance that night was actually good fun. We all got a quite tipsy and my wife was in the mood for sex when we finally tumbled into bed. After some foreplay however, she said that she had off the boil so we both just went to sleep. As I drifted off I recalled the events of the afternoon with some pleasure, allowing my imagination to picture the scene of my wife standing over me whipping me hard.

It is now late afternoon on New Years Day. My wife has gone for an afternoon nap and our friends have gone for a walk. Since tomorrow is also a holiday in the UK, we have asked them to stay an extra night.

It would be nice to have some afternoon delight right now, but I don't think I should disturb my wife.

Sunday Spanklet - House guest corrected

2012-01-01T02:26:00.003Z

George knew that he had overstepped the mark of decency with his cousin

Lydia and was about to pay the price.

He was down from university for the holidays, whilst his family was travelling in India. His Mother had closed their house for the time being and he had been to told to go to his Aunts at Winslock Manor so that he could cram for his forthcoming exams.

When he learned that Lydia was out on a foxhunt he had made his way to her bedroom to snoop around. Finding the underwear in her chest of drawers he had been overcome with a desire to touch it and to finger his erection at the same time.

Lydia had burst into the room, after her horse had gone lame and she had retired from the hunt, and gave a small cry of horror at the sight of George standing there with his trousers and pants round his ankles. His nudity appalled her but then the look of surprise on his face amused her.

George was given an alternative – either she would tell her Mother everything and he would leave the house in shame or he would take a whipping from

Lydia

She had heard and occasionally seen her brothers being thrashed and had been excited by the whole business of corporal punishment. Now, as if it was a gift from heaven she had the opportunity to turn a fantasy into reality.

In truth there was no option and George had gone over her knees, without a murmur, to receive a childish spanking with her hairbrush. Lydia was far from satisfied with this as a punishment and left him in the corner of her bedroom whilst she went in search of a cane in her Papa’s study. Back in her room she told George to strip and to help her out of her riding habit, since he was so keen to learn about female undergarments she hoped this would satisfy his curiosity.

As he helped her undress Lydia went into great detail about the whipping he was about to receive. She told him that he would be gagged to keep him quiet and that his hands would be tied behind his back with his own trouser belt.

The whole process of undressing was prolonged by

Lydia

and the tension in the room was electric. Finally, when all her clothes were put away neatly and she was bare from the waist up, she pulled the belt out of the loops in the trousers and turned on George, instructing him to move across to the ottoman, and lay himself over the cushioned armrest.

Forcing him to cross his arms behind his back Lydia wrapped the belt in a turn around his biceps and fastened it tightly at the hasp. Then she took a thin chemise from a drawer and stuffed one end into his mouth to keep him from crying out. When all was ready she slowly approached the young man’s bare bottom with the rattan cane in her hand, swishing it vertically in practice strokes .

It was going to be a long lesson, but one that George was sure to remember.

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Thanks to Otto for the drawing

Have a good New Year

2011-12-31T07:34:00.000Z

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

2011-12-30T05:19:00.000Z

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

2011-12-29T14:35:00.001Z

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

2011-12-28T03:41:00.000Z

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

2011-12-27T01:22:00.000Z

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

2011-12-25T00:22:00.003Z

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!”

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

Christmas thoughts

2011-12-24T06:11:00.000Z

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

2011-12-22T07:05:00.000Z

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

2011-12-21T20:52:00.000Z

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.

2011-12-19T15:28:00.001Z

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

2011-12-18T07:16:00.005Z

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.

2011-12-14T08:54:00.001Z

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

2011-12-12T20:36:00.000Z

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

2011-12-11T07:01:00.000Z

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

2011-12-10T06:53:00.001Z

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

2011-12-04T17:06:00.000Z

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.

Surprising events on Saturday

2011-11-29T19:45:00.000Z

Last Saturday night turned out to be a lot different to what either of us might have expected. We drove out to have dinner at the house of some friends. There were just the four of us. They live in the country and I was supposed to stay off the drink so as to be able drive back home. That didn’t happen. The wine flowed and my self-discipline failed me so by 11.30 it looked as if I would have to call an expensive taxi to come and take my wife and I home. Then we would have to come out for the car early on the following morning.

When I said I was going to call a taxi our friends suggested we stay in their guest cottage, which they rent out to holidaymakers. There was no-one there that night. At first my wife protested that it was too much trouble but after a while their insistence that it was a good idea wore her down and she accepted, but not without giving me a hard stare, as if to say that I should not have put her in this position in the first place.

We all drank some more and finally decided to call it a night. We helped tidy things away and then Katie led us out the cottage and left us to it. She told us that she would cook some breakfast at about 9.30 and handed us a bottle of orange juice and some milk for the tea and coffee.

She also gave my wife a plastic bag with what she called some personal stuff.

Once we were inside the cottage and I had switched on a few lights my wife got a bit angry, telling me that she felt embarrassed about putting Katie to so much trouble and that I should have stuck to the bargain about not drinking. I said I was sorry and we made up with a kiss.

I had no nightwear so once I was washed I hit the bed naked. My wife then appeared from the bathroom in one of Katie’s T- shirts and a pair of her pants.

Now T -shirt and knickers are about the sexiest thing around in the right circumstances and my erection showed my excitement. I went down on my wife almost as soon as she was in bed and spent a good few minutes sucking and licking her through the cotton fabric of her pants.

I was going for gold and about to try and slide the knickers down her thighs when she turned me over on my back and sat on top of my face. My wife started to slap my balls with the outstretched fingers of one hand and I squirmed with pleasure. I have no idea why I find this such a turn on but there it is. I was still licking away at the cotton gusset and she reached back with her free hand to pull the fabric away from the soft lips between her legs. I went into crazy mode, licking and sucking with all my energy and she continued with the ball slapping, but harder now and a lot faster.

After some more bucking and groaning from me, my wife knelt and then stood up on the bed. Standing over me she slowly pulled down the pants and stepped out of them and then squatted done again, but this time with her anus over my mouth.

“Go on. You like this so lick away, naughty boy.”

I was rampant with excitement and forced my tongue into the hole with as much energy as I could find at this stage in the proceedings. She started to slap my balls and inner thighs hard, really hard and yanked away at my cock with her other hand, practically pulling it off me. Usually she would stop this after a few minutes but that night she just went on and on and I covered her vagina and lips with my wet kisses. Just when I thought I would at last be ready to come she stopped suddenly and rolled off me.

“I can’t get there,” she said. “I have had too much to drink, so if I can’t come neither can you.”

I lay there gasping with my groin aching. She hadn’t been that severe with her ball smacking before but it still felt great.

“Get off and go and get me some water.”

I did as I was told and climbed back into bed.

“Goodnight,” I said and “thanks.” I kissed the back of her neck.

“If you’re a good boy we will do something in the morning. But leave your cock alone.”

I did and she was as good as her word.

Sunday Spanklet - School Twelve

2011-11-27T05:35:00.000Z

Spanklet (n.) - definition - a very short story where an individual is spanked or caned.
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The handsome sixth form boy, from the boarding school a few miles way, was led into Miss Hargreaves study by the School Secretary, Mrs Jackson.

“ Good afternoon John, come here.”

The headmistress waved a hand to direct him to stand in front of her.

“Thank you Sarah. That will be all, for the moment anyway.”

The other woman left the room with a backward glance at the boy, which might almost have been sympathetic

The Headmistress of the Girls Boarding School stared hard at the young man from other side the large desk.

“You know why you are here then?” she quizzed the teenager.

“I think so Miss.”

“You think so. I would have thought Jennifer would have told you every detail. You seemed to be very close to her the other night, according to Miss Watkins’ account of what she saw.”

“Yes Miss?”

“Yes, you were seen with cigarettes, a bottle of vodka, kissing and with your hands groping each other. I will not tolerate that sort of thing and neither would your Headmaster.”

“No Miss. I am sorry Miss. It was my fault Miss.”

“So it might have been, but Jennifer was punished for her part in the sordid business and now we have to decide what to do with you. Do you wish me to tell Mr Robinson?”

“No Miss, please Miss.”

“Why should I not do so?”

“Because I will be expelled Miss and I need to finish my exams Miss. I have already been caught smoking twice this term Miss.”

“Ah yes, his three strikes and you're out rule. So if I don’t inform your Headmaster what do you suggest I do. You must be punished, you do know that ?”

“Yes Miss.”

“Did Jennifer tell you how I dealt with her?”

“Yes Miss, some of it. Something about a School Twelve?”

Miss Fletcher stood up. She was a tall striking woman in her early forties and her presence dominated all who had the misfortune to be in her study, be they a parent, staff member or pupil.

“Yes,” she said as she stepped to one side and opened a cupboard door.

”Yes, the School Twelve. Do you know what that means?”

“Not really Miss.”

“ Well I will tell you. It means twelve strokes with this whilst you are bent over with your hands on your knees.”

She showed him a very long wooden paddle which she placed down on the desk in front of the hapless boy and then turned again and retrieved a leather strap.

“And then twelve with this tawse with you bending over there..”

Miss Watkins pointed to the roll end leather sofa against the wall.

“And finally.” Miss Fletcher announced with a hint of drama.

There was a pause as John watched her hand go into the recess of the cupboard one more time. Then the Headmistress turned holding a long thin cane in one hand.

“Last, but not least, there are twelve extremely hard strokes with this cane, bent over the desk and perhaps with Mrs Jackson back here and holding you down if you can't stay still.”

Placing the last instrument on the desk she looked over at John and asked of him.

“So what is it to be John? A visit to Mr Robinson or a punishment from me?”

“The School Twelve,” John spoke hesitantly. “Your punishment please Miss.”

“Very well. You have probably chosen for the best, given your parent’s expectations of you but I warn you, you will learn your lesson with me."

"Take your shoes and trousers off and we will make a start. Your pants will also come down, as a School Twelve is always on the bare”

"Yes Miss." said John with a mixture of resignation and excitement at his predicament.

Wednesday

2011-11-23T18:21:00.000Z

Hi
We are both travelling today so no Maintenance Session tonight.

My wife has suggested a review of the Punishment Book tomorrow or over the weekend.
This was prompted by me taking our account into overdraft again, resulting in a call from the bank to her, because they could not get through to me. Drat it.

She has not yet advised the tariff for this error.

I had a business meeting this morning with forceful lady client dressed like this.

I couldn't help wondering what she might wear at home.

Sunday spanklet- Satisfaction in the office

2011-11-20T06:08:00.000Z

Caroline stood in the executive elevator and looked over at the secretary who had come to fetch her from the lobby.
Nice tight bottom she thought, he is still selecting them for their physical attributes as well as their brains. The doors slid open into an office suite which was quiet at 6 in the evening and she followed the skirt and heels to the Chairman’s office, even though she knew her own way there blindfold. One sharp knock and they were both inside.

“Miss Roberts, sir.”

The tall man behind the large desk did not look up.

“Thank you Nicole. I will call you when I need you. You are not going anywhere special hope.”

“No sir.”

The door closed behind the woman and Caroline walked slowly to the desk. Five mintes passed whilst he carried on working and she stood silently waiting.

“So have you made a profit yet?” he asked, as he sat back in his chair looking at her face, his blue eyes boring into her soul.

“Not yet, sir. But we are making good progress. We are still on track with the business plan.”

“So why are you here? I made my investment and now I want a return. I didn’t let you go from here just to so you could squander my money in your business idea.”

“I need it, Sir” Caroline spoke quietly, her eyes cast down at the desk top.

“Need what?”

He always made her ask, it was yet another way of asserting his control.

“The cane Sir, I need the cane.”

“Very well. You know where it is and what to do. Thirty six I think, this time ”

Caroline turned and he resumed his work at the computer. She slid open the wide drawer in the bureau and took out the long thin rattan cane. Holding it in two outstretched hands she carried the instrument to the sofa table and laid it down with care.

Turning to face him she waited until he was looking and then slowly removed her suit jacket. She spun around and began to raise her skirt. Inch by inch the hem climbed past her knees, then up the thighs, revealing the pretty design of her stocking tops. She paused teasingly and then bent forward slightly to emphasize her rounded cheeks as she lifted the skirt to her waist. Her bottom was delightfully framed at the sides by the suspender straps. In one fluid motion she lay over the back of the sofa. The black lace V of her g-string disappeared into the cleft between the white cheeks, which were now perfectly positioned for him.

As she lifted her head out of the cushions she saw him take up the cane, zipping it up and down through the air a few times The bulge in his crotch stretched his trousers and she imagined that she could actually taste the salty head of his penis.

“Nicole looks very efficient. Good bottom too. You haven’t lost your touch at hiring the best.” Caroline added a touch of sarcasm to her voice.

“Don’t sass me young lady. You are in a lot of trouble as it is.”

Caroline smiled at the thought of the extras that might be awarded and braced herself for the first swing of the cane as it tap-tapped on her left cheek. She was certain that Nicole would be listening.

Caught and spanked

2011-11-19T07:50:00.000Z

Last night looked like being just a regular night. We both got home at roughly the same time and I went to shower. Whilst I cooked a meal my wife had a shower and did some e mails. We chatted nicely over our dinner and drank two or three glasses of wine each.

At one stage she commented that I seemed to be in an upbeat and cheerful mood. I responded that the spanking on Wednesday probably accounted for that.

“I needed the discipline, “ I said.

“Then I shall make sure you get it regularly ,” she replied. “You know that I can’t stand grumpiness."

We continued our chat, mainly about the stupidity of the people who set up the Euro and we drank off the bottle of wine..

Whilst my wife made some phone calls I did the washing up and then went through to the study to do some work. I had only been there a few minutes when my wife came through and told me to stand up.. When I did so I saw she was holding a long wooden spoon in her hand.

“Take your trousers down.”

“Why?”

“Don’t argue with me young man. Do it now.”

I was worried. I was about to be found out. I couldn’t refuse, but I did think of saying I needed to go to the bathroom. She glared at me and I undid my belt and opened my trousers. As they fell to the floor my shirt tails did not cover the problem.

“What on earth are you wearing?” my wife asked in cross voice.

“Sorry ma’am.”

“Are those mine?” she demanded, staring at the black lacy knickers which hugged my bottom.

“No ma’am. I bought them on the internet. They are size 16”

I have no idea why I thought that last bit of information was important.

“Oh I despair of you. Why did you put them on tonight?”

“They just feel nice, ma’am, and I did not think anything would happen tonight and that you wouldn't see them.”

“Oh for goodness sake.” she said in an exasperated voice. ” Get over the back of that chair.”

I shuffled with my trousers round my ankles and as I bent and held on to the chair seat she lifted my shirt and yanked down the panties.

“I was just going to give you a few spanks and then invite you to fuck me.” she said. “But now you are going to get it good and hard and then you’re going to stand in the corner for the rest of the evening.”

“Yes ma’am, I am sorry ma’am”

The smacking with the wooden spoon started and I was soon jumping about. It might be a small instrument but it hurts lie hell everywhere it lands. After an unrelenting five minutes of spanking she took me by the ear, pulled me on to my feet and forced me into the corner.

“You can stay there until I tell you and no touching. I want 50 strokes written into the punishment book. You will only buy and wear knickers when I tell you.”

Two hours or more of staring at the wall went by until she came to get me. I followed her upstairs feeling a bit foolish that I had spoiled a happy evening. I tried to make amends when we were in bed and I eventually had her giggling about how silly I had looked with my trousers down. We kissed and made up and I went down on her for a considerable amount of time. As we drifted off to sleep my wife whispered that the punishment book would be studied very soon and since I was so keen on wearing ladies underwear she would make me buy some tights next time we are out shopping.

Meanderings - Toulouse Lautrec

2011-11-18T05:18:00.000Z

I was browsing through Otto's spanking art the other day and it struck me that a couple of his images had the same sort of feel to them as the paintings of Toulouse Lautrec.

On a whim I followed this thought and googled some of Lautrec's paintings.

Lautrec was definitely into women in a big way – I wonder if he was also a spanko?

Take a look.

"Sore, but content that she is loved"

"The sooner this is over the better."

"But why did he have to whip me so hard?"

" I know I was late for practise, but surely not the cane?"

"When he gets home!"

"Studying the Punishment Book"

"Well, bring me the hairbrush and get over my lap!"

" It's my turn now, you know what to do!"

Maintenance evening

2011-11-17T09:02:00.000Z

I arrived home early yesterday afternoon, with time to spare for the preparations involved in a Maintenance Spanking. Last Sunday she had spelt out which instruments she would use and added that she wanted to use a birch. Apparently this idea had come to her when she noticed the leaves falling. The light was failing even at 3pm so I set off for the local woods with some haste. It did not take long to get to the field maple trees that have very similar branches to the birch tree and are more common.

I fashioned the birch with some tape, then a nice piece of cord to give it a good grip.

By the time my wife got home I was in position in the corner of the bedroom in my shorts and T shirt with my hands on my head. The paddle, cane, strap and birch were lying neatly on the bed.

I was made to wait for nearly half an hour as my wife busied herself downstairs. I spent the time fantasizing about different spanking scenarios and occasionally rubbing myself with the excitement of my predicament.

When she got to the room my wife was very brisk and business like and I was over the bench before I knew it. She started straight in with 30 of the cane and I was in sub space after 20 or so strokes. I really needed this maintenance session and my head felt woozy with the submission.

Next up was a long hard paddling across every inch of my bottom followed by two dozen strokes with the strap.

I lay with a throbbing butt whilst she picked up the birch and made some comment about how nicely it had been made. Then she told me to stand, pull off my pants and get on all fours with my head down.

She stood over me facing my ankles with her long legs gripping my waist tightly and started to whip me. The stinging pain was exquisite. She went on and on birching my bottom and the backs of my legs for over 5 minutes. Finally she was done and threw the birch down in front of me.

She told me to clear the things away and come back to give her a back scrub in the bath. As I was soaping her she put a hand into my pants and rubbed me hard. I asked her if I could come and she agreed provided none of it went into the water. Whilst she teased me about how she had enjoyed whipping me I pumped hard and finally came into the palm of my free hand.

So I stood there, legs trembling with the pleasure, she made me to swallow the cum and lick my fingers clean.

I went off to get changed into some going out clothes and about an hour later we were in the pub having a meal in a relaxed and happy mood.

Hotting up

2011-11-14T10:50:00.000Z

After going to a service yesterday, we returned hone to change and go out for a late lunch with some friends.

Apropos of nothing, whilst my wife was walking about in bra and pants and I was getting out of my clothes she told me to fetch the bath brush and bend over with my hands on the bed.

She pulled my pants down very slowly and teasingly, until they were just above my knees and then took aim with the brush. Because of the weight at the end of the brush she can swing this in a very relaxed fashion but the momentum of the swing makes it crack hard into my bottom. After only a few strokes I was jumping.

When she was satisfied with her handiwork she told me to stand up and went off to the bathroom.

She then sat on the edge of the bed facing me and showed me the tube of Heat Rub (Icy Hot in the

) .in her hands.

“Now you’re going to behave over lunch aren’t you? “ she asked.

“Yes ma’am”

“Good – and this is going remind you.”

She squeezed quite a lot of the cream onto her fingers and then rubbed it into my balls, penis and in between my legs on the skin around my anus.

She smiled up at me.

“Thank you for telling me about the effect this cream has on your bits. I shall enjoy knowing you are hot both front and rear.”

For a good few minutes there was no reaction but gradually the heat of the muscle cream built up until it was stinging like mad.

It was still smarting when I sat down in the restaurant. It is painful yet pleasurable to know she is in control, even in public situations.

Sunday Spanklet - Hotel room

2011-11-13T06:57:00.000Z

The room was tidy and the bed made up. As he reached into the mini bar he froze with a feeling of embarrassment and shock deep in his mind. The spanking magazine, Obey, was placed carefully on the top of the dressing table along with the customary wallet of stationery and the City Guide.

With a rush of blood to his face he recalled spending last night with the magazine in one hand and an erection in the other. After he had fallen asleep it must have slipped under the bedding and been there when he had left in the morning.

Then he saw the handwritten note by the telephone.

“If you call this number, I will come back to the hotel and you can explain yourself.
Tania.”

Weekend retreat

2011-11-12T05:19:00.000Z

We managed to get away for the weekend at about 3pm on Friday. I had done the food shopping in the morning, then packed the suitcases and done a bit of cleaning by the time my wife rang to say she was free to be picked up.

The traffic was heavy but no real queues, so we had collected the key and we were unpacking by 9. The idea behind the weekend was that I would do everything and my wife would just relax so I poured her a drink and she sat and watched TV while I unpacked the cases, made a fire and started on a meal. Once we had eaten and I had washed up we went upstairs. In silence I removed her clothes and led her to the shower. Whilst she was standing in the stream of hot water, I stripped down to my pants and then went to soap and scrub her. After that I towelled her dry and she put on her pyjamas and got into bed. Once I started to massage her feet with cream my wife was soon nodding off to sleep. She reminded me not to touch myself as I left the room and went into the second bedroom. We had agreed to sleep separately so that she could get some uninterrupted sleep.

The next morning I was up and about early, driving to the shop to get a newspaper and then back to make breakfast. Everything was prepared when she came down dressed for a day in the country. She sat and read the paper whilst I tidied away the dishes and then we set off. After a long country walk we came back to the car and headed off for some lunch.Whilst I drank juice she had three glasses of wine. Over coffee she leaned forward and took hold of my knee under the table.

“ I think I am ready for some afternoon delight now, darling.” She spoke in a husky voice

“That would be nice ma’am.” I said with a shiver of pleasure in my loins.

“so pay the bill and we’ll get off.”

As we drove back had her hand on my legs again, squeezing and stroking the inside of my thigh. She talked about giving me a good "seeing to" as it had been awhile since I had been spanked. Needless to say I found it difficult to concentrate on the road ahead.

Once we were back in the cottage I set to work building a fire. Before I was done with this my wife told me to stop and go fetch her hairbrush and two of the other spanking toys I had brought with us and then to come back with just my pants on. I quickly went upstairs, washed myself and came scurrying back to the sitting room.

The long wooden rustic coffee table had been cleared of books and magazines and my wife was seated on a dining chair at one end of the room. She had stripped off all her outdoor clothes except for a black roll neck sweater and black wool tights. She looked stunning.

I placed the instruments on the coffee table and stood waiting with my hands behind my back and my head lowered, then I heard her say.

“Bring the hairbrush and get over my knees.”

I scurried over and in a moment I was head down over her lap, staring at the pattern on the rug. She smoothed my pants out with her hand and joked about how much she had been looking forward to this.

“No need to try and count Michael. You will never keep up.”

The backof the brush smacked hard into my bottom and the spanking commenced. She landed the brush hard and fast and on a cold bottom I struggled to contain the pain. After a time the skin became warm and I entered that space where I could enjoy being over her lap. Inevitably the pain built up and I started to wriggle and turn. I guess that she must have given me fifty or sixty swats before she stopped.

I was told to stand and she pulled down my pants. My excitement had wilted a bit with the spanking but I still had what might be called a horizontal erection. She took hold of it with one hand and ran the other hand back across my bottom.

“I need to see this get more interested.” She said with a smile, “You are such a naughty boy.”

As she rubbed my prick with one hand and squeezed my butt with the other the magic worked. When she saw me become suitably vertical she took a firm hold and pulled me towards the coffee table.

“Get over that.” she commanded “ I want that prick of yours to be uncomfortable whilst I whip you.”

She pulled my pants all the way off and I lay down over the hard surface. I actually ,enjoyed grinding my erection onto the cold hard word. As I saw her l lift the strap off the table, I manoeuvered myself forward a little to make sure my bottom was well presented. Running the tip of the strap down from my shoulder blades she promised me a hard time and then lifted her arm for the first stroke. The whack was audible before the pain and I groaned with pleasure.

“Be quiet. I demand silence from you.”

The strap hit and was pulled away to one side, running across my cheek in slow motion. Then another smack and another trail across my skin. On and on she went, lingering over each stroke and covering my bottom from top to bottom.

The smacks were so pleasurable I found it hard not to moan but I kept quiet. Sensing that I was having too much of a good time she started to land the strap across the backs of my legs and this was stinging pain not pleasure. After many many strokes the strapping stopped and I lay in silence waiting for the next instruction. I had my eyes closed luxuriating in my submission. I heard a click and tap on the wood so I figured that the cane was being picked up.

After a long minute or so, I felt the tip of the cane against my ankle. Slowly, thrillingly, the tip of the rattan ran up one leg and she made circles over my right cheek, then it entered the area between my thighs caressing my testicles and off again around my left cheek and down my leg. My wife repeated this circular path a second and third time until I was practically screaming for the caning to begin. One more time the tip of the cane arrived between my legs.I raised my bottom off the table top by arching my back, inviting the cane

to go

further. Slowly, very slowly she strted to tap my balls. The pain was excruciating but I wanted more. I groaned a little and the tip smacked me harder.

“Be quiet. I will do this as I wish. You are here for my pleasure not yours.”

She tapped the tender skin of my perineum and then started to hit my flattened ball sac harder. I could not help giving little yelps at this moment but she did not reprimand me. Eventually, just when I thought I couldn’t stand any more she stopped and I was told to get up.

“Stand at the end of the table, legs together and bend over with your hands on the table.”

Struggling a little I pushed my chest and hips off the table and then got into position.

“Thirty six strokes. No messing and no crying.”

I braced myself and then heard the whizz- smack of the cane before the pain shot up through my body to my head. The second stroke landed before I could even take in the first. My bottom felt as though I was being branded. I gripped the side of the coffee table top with both hands and tried to count the strokes to maintain some sort of mind control. After a dozen or so she landed the cane on the tops of my thighs and my legs trembled with the pain.

My wife turned her attention back to my cheeks and thrashed the cane down hard.

“Not so nice now is it?” she asked. “But it is nice for me. I have been waiting all week to take out my frustrations on you.”

The cane continued with its zipping and whizzing and cracking into my bottom and I lifted first one leg, then the other, trying to ease the shock.

“Keep still.”

She smacked the backs of my legs.

“In fact get up on your toes. That will keep you still and give me a better target.”

I stretched my calves and stood on my toes. I felt terribly exposed as she took a careful aim by tapping the cane near the crease between my legs and my bottom cheeks. I kept up this position for a further 6 strokes until the tariff of 36 had been completed. I felt completely drained with the effort of taking the thrashing but supremely happy at having submitted to her in such fashion. Now all I wanted to do was please her.

Leaving me bent over and quivering a bit as I was still on my toes, my wife went off upstairs. After maybe two minutes I heard her calling me to bed.

I am pleased to say that I gave her every satisfaction once I was lying on the bed with my face buried deep between her legs.

….to follow.

Sunday morning and Sunday night.

For our tomorrow

2011-11-11T15:43:00.000Z

They gave their today

Welcome Lurkers

2011-11-10T06:09:00.000Z

Bonnie, over at My Bottom Smarts, has for some years been co-ordinating a “Love our Lurkers” day and today is the sixth anniversary day of that event.

Blog writers know that there have many readers who just cruise by silently and leave no evidence that they have viewed the site. A few people might comment but most do not. These passers-by are the Lurkers.

So today we ask you, the silent majority, to leave a comment below, anonymously if you wish, but better to leave your name.

What to say when you comment?– Well, that’s up to you so long as it is fairly agreeable. You might say if you are keen on FLR or F/M relationships and why, or if you like/dislike this spanking blog.

You have nothing to lose, so go ahead.

Thanks

Michael M

Deviation from the subject

2011-11-09T17:38:00.000Z

Just occasionally I may go away from the main thrust of this blog and head into M/F or F/F arenas.

Sometimes you can come across an image which is just so perfect in it's composition, that it portrays all there is to say and more on the subject of spanking.

I came across it whilst cruising the blogosphere and encountering Through Arianna's Looking Glass. Her blog is more than peachy.

Back to FLR in the next post I can assure you

Musings - OBB - Bullet bras and other stuff

2011-11-08T15:10:00.001Z

We enjoyed a great weekend away but it may take a day or so for me to write it up.

In the meantime can I point out that the people over at OUR BOTTOMS BURN have just completed a great redesign of their blog and it has some fascinating new viewing gadgets. Take a look.

Talking of OBB I know they are a big fans of bullet bras and corsets and in the great film The Help, which was recently released in the UK, the bullet bra plays a prominent part of the wardrobe.

I would certainly relish a spanking from Ms Emma Stone, the leading actress in said film.

Aficionados of this style of underwear, who are thinking of Christmas presents, might want to take a look at a UK shopping site WHAT KATIE DID.

Nothing could be better than a "good seeing to" from a suitably attired woman.

Sunday spanklet - Accidental damage

2011-11-06T12:54:00.000Z

That morning he had been dropped off at the small family hotel, along with the large ride on mower and grass strimmer off the trailer. His boss had told him that he would go to another job and be back in 4 hours, so Alex was under pressure as the grounds were quite extensive. He didn’t stop for a break but got a little careless when he was trying to light a cigarette. As he was mnoevering the mower at the end of a run near the car park he clipped a BMW with the heavy front wheel frame. Unfortunately for him the lady owner was returning to the car and saw the whole thing.

She ran towards him and went ballistic at the large scrape on her beautiful car. Alex stopped the mower and stood there as she shouted at him. He gave her his name and the name of the business and she drove off saying she would call his boss about the repair costs.

When he explained all this to Tony later on he got another telling off and Tony said Alex would have to pay, as he wasn’t going to put a claim on his insurance and when the lady rang he would tell her that Alex would go round to sort things out.

The next afternoon after work Alex walked despondently up the drive to the large house. When the woman came to the door he explained that he had no money to pay for the repair. She had figured as much. Alex was invited into the hall and given another telling off about his carelessness and he was told that since he was such strong young man he would have to work weekend jobs for her, for nothing, until the repair was paid off. Alex nodded agreement.

There was one more thing the woman went on, he would be punished for what he had done and punished severely. She pointed at the door to a study.....

Don't be too helpful

2011-11-04T17:36:00.000Z

Last night proved to be more interesting than I had anticipated and it might have gone very badly indeed.

I had a snack then got changed and set about the pile of ironing. Half an hour into it, the door bell rang. I thought my wife must be back home and didn’t have her key with her. My problem was I was naked except for a pair of silky knickers and a T shirt and I thought she might not be best pleased at my presumption. I ran upstairs and pulled on a pair of jeans and the doorbell rang two or three times more. Trying to look calm I opened the front door but it wasn’t my wife on the porch, it was our next door neighbour, Claire. Thank God I didn’t chance it with my clothes, I thought.

After our greetings Claire told me that her car wouldn’t start again and she had to collect Nick from the station. Could I come and do something, she asked?

I said yes and went back inside to turn off the iron and put on some shoes. As I left the house I thought I had better tell my wife where I was so I sent a quick text and drove my car round to Claire’s. I figured I could jump-start the car.

To be honest I was a bit peeved that Nick had not bought a new battery after the last time I had helped out. I did tell Claire but obviously nothing had been done. I had my head under the bonnet when I heard the sound of a car pull into my own drive. With the wires fixed it didn’t take long to get the other car started and I tidied everything away and accepted Claire’s profuse thanks. A few minutes later I was home.

My wife was standing in the hall with a bit of a sour face.

“So where were you?”, she asked.

“Next door, Claire couldn’t start her car.”

“Ooh , next door with Claire were you, how cosy is that when I am out working?”

I knew where she was headed with this so I reminded her that the last time I helped with the car it was because she had suggested I do so.

“And anyway,” I pointed out, “I sent you a text saying what I was doing.”

Grumpily I walked past my wife and headed for the kitchen, intending to get on with the ironing. I had a feeling that the events of the last thirty minutes might just have spoiled the whole weekend I was looking forward to.

“Come back here at once!” The tone of her voice stopped me in my tracks.

As I turned back to face her she was pointing at the floor.

“Get on your knees.”

A rush of submission at her instruction came over me and I did as I was told.

She took her phone out of her handbag and spent a moment looking at it.

“OK there is a text here so I accept your explanation. But you have no business helping other women without my permission and you certainly should not be talking to me like that.”

“Yes ma’am. Sorry ma’am.” I looked down at the floor.

“You had better finish the ironing. Go on and I’ll get changed into my pyjamas and you can pour me a drink.”

“Yes ma’am. “ I said, with some relief that the air was now clear.

Later on when we were in bed, we cuddled up and she whispered that she would sort me out for seeing other women, probably with a good thrashing this weekend. I stiffened immediately and closed my eyes thinking about what might happen.

All’s well that end well.

Something for the weekend

2011-11-03T12:03:00.002Z

I was on my own last night, so no Wednesday maintenance. On the other hand we are going away for a long weekend in a country cottage and I had a message to say that I should pack something useful. We have been to this place before and there are one or two pieces of adaptable furniture.

I harbour a desire to go to one of those BDSM rental cottages that are dotted around the UK but I am not brave enough to suggest it as I don’t think she would like all the heavy stuff.

Anyway, my wife should get home late tonight I will get on with some chores and dream about what might happen this weekend.

I might treat myself to doing the chores in just a pair of knickers. They make me feel more like I am in service.

Alas and alack

2011-11-02T17:43:00.000Z

I may need to add another event to the punishment book, after the suggestion by a female HOH that I should report to my wife the fact that I had been following a plaid mini-skirted woman around the supermarket.

I had a spare afternoon today and took the opportunity to go for a swim at our fitness club. After I was maybe 10 lengths into my routine, this stunner of a blonde female appeared pool side, wearing a dark blue bikini. The bottom half of the bikini resembled the nicest kind of gym knickers, slightly large but not too big.

A bit like those netball pants of many years ago.

When she got into the water I made a gradual sideways change of lanes until I ended up swimming behind her. Thank you Zutto, for inventing those clear view swim goggles.

As she and I both swam breaststroke (great word) I paced myself for another 10 lengths to avoid overtaking her, so that I could enjoy the view of those opening and closing thighs and that delicious blue clad bottom flexing with the movement.

Now that I am back home, I know that I should add this voyeurism to the Punishment Book, but to be honest I am worried that my wife might curtail my visits to the Health Club if I do.

Just an update

2011-11-01T07:29:00.000Z

There has not been much in the way of CP and spanking over the weekend and last night. I don’t think that my wife saw the need for it. This might not be strictly true because, as a female HOH has pointed out in a comment, I should not have been trailing around after women in short plaid skirts. I have therefore added a confessional note in the Punishment Book which I will have to explain to my wife, the next time it is studied by her.

A lot of chores got done by me when I was on my own on Sunday and this was commented on positively when she returned home.

I cleaned and polished all her shoes and boots and tidied up the backs of the heels, where they get scuffed when she is driving. Because these are all back in the cupboard this job went unnoticed. It is good to just do something because you know it should be done, not because there might be a reward.

Sunday Spanklet - Halloween party

2011-10-31T06:51:00.002Z

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.”

Skirts and tights in the autumn (or fall)

2011-10-30T01:05:00.002+01:00

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.

Motivation card

2011-10-29T08:17:00.009+01:00

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!

Her little red whip

2011-10-28T22:46:00.004+01:00

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.

Dismal

2011-10-27T10:03:00.002+01:00

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

Ups and downs and ups

2011-10-26T08:12:00.001+01:00

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

Last Wednesday

2011-10-25T14:06:00.000+01:00

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.

Maintenance pending

2011-10-19T06:44:00.000+01:00

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.

Crime and punishment

2011-10-17T06:59:00.001+01:00

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

Favourite spanking picture

2011-10-16T05:59:00.002+01:00

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.

Back home

2011-10-15T07:46:00.001+01:00

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.

Self restraint and denial

2011-10-14T05:52:00.000+01:00

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.

Blackberry debacle and consequences

2011-10-13T05:47:00.001+01:00

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.

F/M Art - Otto

2011-10-12T08:00:00.000+01:00

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

2011-10-12T05:41:00.000+01:00

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.

My Bottom Smarts

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

USA

You might want to take a look at

Spanking for wellness

and

Spanking therapist

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

Skirts and boots

2011-10-11T04:05:00.000+01:00

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.

Spanking in the news- Charlie's Angels

2011-10-08T10:03:00.001+01:00

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.

Last Wednesday

2011-10-07T15:22:00.001+01:00

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.