Something for the weekend

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.