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Monday, 30 September 2013

Saturday - exercise in discipline

On Saturday morning I was up and about with a spring in my step, feeling refreshed after my thrashing. My bottom ached a bit but was a not sore ache and I felt that I had deserved everything I was given and was lucky to have such a good wife. I brought tea to her and found that she was already awake.

“Good morning.” I greeted her.

“Go and run me a bath and when it’s ready come back here. By the way I want a quick breakfast because I am going shopping. You can drive me in and then come back here and get on with the garden. I want all those bulbs planted before it’s too late.”

“Yes Ma’am.” I responded cheerfully, even though gardening is my least favourite job. I owed her some positivity after last nights session.

When I got back to the bedroom my wife told me to strip to my shorts to be caned another 50 times. I half knew this was going to happen and I was worried about how painful it might be on my still red ass.

“We are going to exercise you. So bend and touch your toes and stand up again and do it ten times.”

I forced myself into the exercise. I could only get within a few inches of my toes and each time the distance apart became a little greater.

“Bend over again and hold the position,” she said when I was finished.

Whipping back the cane she landed ten strokes across my shorts with a long pause between each stroke.The dull thud on my pants led to an excruciating pain flooding to my head.  I unbalanced a couple of times and had to step forward to regain my position.

“Now stand up and do ten more only this time put some more effort into it.”

I tried my best but found that the muscles in the back of my legs had frozen up.

She gave me ten more strokes and then made me do the “touch toes” ten more times followed by yet another ten strokes of the cane.

I was breathing heavily by this stage and was again scolded for being unfit.

“Give me twenty this time and put some effort into it. If you don’t touch your toes at least once I’m going to be very angry indeed.”

I strained hard and after five I managed to quickly reach my front toe. I thought she had noticed but I couldn’t be sure. After 14 attempts I could not manage any more and said so.

“Pathetic. Pull your shorts down and bend with your hands on your knees. Spread your feet. This is going to hurt you more than it hurts me."

It did. She caned me hard up and down my bottom twenty times.I was moaning by the end and came close to giving up my position and asking her to stop.

I didn’t but my head was buzzing by the time the last stroke landed.


"Now give me ten again and make it count."


I stood up and put my feet together again. Staring hard at the carpet I willed myself to lunge down and stretch my arms as far as possible. I made it ! 



A definite contact with both sets of toes. Slowly and out of breath I continued with the remaining nine but could not repeat my success.

As I stood up straight she thwacked the cane across the backs of my legs and I yelped. Hurriedly I pulled my shorts back up from around my ankles.

"OK – you just passed but from now on you give me ten of those every morning and evening and you do it where I can see you. I am going to get you fit so you better be prepared for hard work."

"Yes ma’am. Thank you ma’am."

" I quite like whipping you in the morning. It's a good start to the day to see you all submissive."

I hung my head acknowledging her superiority over me.

"Come over here."

She clambered onto the bed and removed her pyjama bottoms. Lying back on the rumpled bed she opened her legs. It was clear what I was expected to do and I knelt down in front of her.



Once I had brought her to orgasm she still had my head still clamped between her thighs so I started to lick, gently running my tongue carefully around the lips. Slowly but surely she came back to boiling pint and orgasmed again.



"That's enough," she said. "Now get some clothes on and make breakfast." 





I scurried from the room before she changed her mind and brought the cane out again.

Sunday, 29 September 2013

Feeling the heat on Friday

Things got a little hot last Friday night. First of all I managed to break the central heating system. My wife said that the days were getting chillier and that she wanted a burst of heat around the time she usually gets home. 

Whilst setting the timer I managed to break a knob and now there is no heating. Thank goodness the hot water is working OK. Plumbers due on Monday and doubtless the expense will be my fault. 

Then I made chilli and rice for supper which was way to hot ,but at least my wife laughed about that one.

We took off to the pub for a drink after supper and met up with a few locals. I had to drive there as it was deemed to cold to walk so no alcohol for me.

Leaving the pub an hour or so later I opened the car door for my wife and as I did so she grabbed my crotch and squeezed very hard. 

"Get that book out when we get home young man, and the instruments I need."

With my balls in her fist I could only nod and utter a low voiced "Yes ma'am."

Whilst she took a shower I brought out the cane and paddle and laid them, along with the Punishment book, on the bed. I then stood and waited. In five or ten minutes my wife appeared in her dressing gown. She said nothing but sat on the edge of the bed and opened the book.

"Where is the hairbrush?" she demanded, looking round the bed

I"n your bathroom Ma'am. I did not want to interrupt you."

"Well it's no good there is it."

"No Ma'am." I hurried off to fetch it.

"And bring my knickers with you when you come back"

Returning to the room I saw that my wife had moved the  bed blanket chest  out and to the side and was sitting at one end.

I handed her the hairbrush and kept hold of her panties.

"Strip and kneel down in front of me."

It took only a few seconds to be in position.

"When I'm done I want those knickers handwashed and back in my drawer by tomorrow night. Understood?"

"Yes ma'am."

"So put them down and get over my knee."

I crawled to her side with my erection waving around and clambered over her lap, disturbing the robe in the process so that my bare skin was touching that of her thighs. In my younger days I would probably have cum right there and then just with that rubbing action.

"There's rather a lot to get through isn't there. So we had better get started. Take this watch and you can tell me when five minutes is up."

Turning my head I saw her hand holding the wristwatch. I took awkwardly by bending my left arm and placed it on the carpet in front of me.

"Starting now!" 

The hairbrush smacked against my bare skin and the spanking had commenced. 

She did not let up; it was smack after smack after smack and  the second hand had barely moved. She covered every inch of skin in no time at all and then I sensed that she was into this spanking in a big way. The whack of the brush was agony and I gave up counting. By the time a minute had gone by I must have received up to 80 spanks and Imy bottom was ablaze. It went through me head that five minutes of this treatment would not be bearable.

The spanking  continued on. After two minutes I began to sob a little each time the brush smacked into my bottom. Nothing much, just little cries of ouch, but she told me to keep quiet and take my punishment properly

At three minutes my eyes were misting over and I found it difficult to see the hands on the watch. I panicked wondering if I had lost count of the minutes. I lifted one hand to wipe my eyes and nearly lost my balance. Wrapping her arm tightly around my waist my wife told me to stay still or else.

As the watch ticked through the fourth minute I began kicking my legs and that was when she moved on to the backs of my thighs with that hateful brush. I stopped kicking and I could imagine her smile as she resumed control of my movements through this variation of the spank spot.

Having to concentrate on the time I never achieved sub- space. This spanking was all about punishment and when I finally called out "five" I was ashamed that I was nearly in tears. I lay over her lap until she pushed me off. Clambering to my feet I stood in front of her with my head down. I knew better than to rub my bottom and automatically put my hands on top of my head in a gesture of submission. My erection was ling gone.

Placing the hairbrush on the bed cover my wife picked up the cane and rolled it through her fingers. 

"So paddle or cane, cane or paddle? What shall it be I wonder?" 

She looked at me as she spoke. 

"I have all weekend for this and I think I will punish you each day. So maybe fifty cane strokes now and fifty tomorrow and the day after. That would just leave the paddle for Sunday night wouldn't it?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Very well. Bend over and see if you can touch your toes."

I tried but I couldn't. The furthest I could get was to my ankles.

"That's pathetic and you look as though you will fall over. You need to be doing more exercise." 

She tapped my bottom with the tip of the cane. 

"Stand up and go over there. Push your bottom out with your hands on the wall."


Once in position she paced around me and made remarks about my weight and how it was time I was taken in hand. 
Then with a whizz,  the cane struck my bottom. I flinched but then pushed my bottom back out to meet the next stroke.

When she had finished the whipping she threw the cane on the floor and left me standing there. 

I listened to her prepare for bed and wondered if I would be invited to join her.

"Pick everything up except the cane and sort out the blanket chest, then go to the spare room. Do not touch yourself. The caning will resume tomorrow morning. Is that clear?"

"Yes ma'am. thank you ma'am".

"And don't forget my knickers!"




.


Friday, 27 September 2013

Paying a high price for technology

Yikes. Calamitous day yesterday. I was not in the house when the post arrived and my wife had opened various envelopes by the time I got home.

"Look at this," she practically  yelled at me,  waving a piece of paper at me. Up closer I could see that it had a black and white photo of a car on it. 

“ It's a hundred pound parking fine.! Sixty if we pay it in fourteen days. What the hell were you were doing?”

My stomach turned over as quickly as my mind went fuzzy. A parking fine ? When?  I could not remember any time recently that I had parked and got a penalty notice on my windscreen.

I took the paper from her hand and  stared at the image . It was my car and my registration but I couldn't  recognise the location. It must be a mistake, I thought.

The fine was there in bold text, as was the date. What was the date? Then it dawned on me. I had pulled into a country park last week when I was away on a contract . I had bought some lunch and planned to listen to the radio and have a nap. 

It was good to get away from the client's office for a break. I remembered that there had been signs about a parking charge but I had figured that if a parking warden appeared and I was in the car I would just drive away. I had not bargained for camera surveillance. 

The image of the car had been taken from up high. Somehow they must have tracked that I had not bought a ticket. This was definitely big brother. Drones are one thing but cameras in a car park in a woodland setting are way over the top. What if I had taken someone there for a secret assignation. Not only would I have a parking fine but my wife would have seen me and another person in the front seat. 

I could just make out my head and body in the photo, stretched out snoozing at that point. Imagine if it had showed someone giving me head. Not that it would of course because I don't cheat but still.

I explained all this to my wife, telling her it was just a lunch break and I hadn't been there more than half an hour. I thought she would see my point of view and that it was unfair and unjust to have remote cameras doing this sort of thing.   She did not.

"Sixty pounds – sixty pounds. I can’t believe you would be so stupid."

"Look," I said. "I am sorry, OK . I’ll cover it."

"That’s not the point. I could have had a new dress with sixty pounds."

"I know. I’m truly sorry and I’ll just have to find some fresh work to pay it off."



"You can and in fact I’ll find it for you. My friend Sandra wants her Charity shop painting. She can’t afford much but I am sure that she would pay sixty pounds for two days hard work. I will call her in the morning."

"Oh come on. I can find better work than decorating." 


"Maybe. But this will teach you a lesson at the same time." 




Right there and then she picked up her mobile and called Sandra. In only a few moments of conversation the two had arranged for me to start painting on Monday when the shop is closed. Sandra was apparently delighted to pay such a small charge.

"Now get the cheque book and the Punishment book. You can sit there and write up sixty strokes with the cane. I will deal with the book this weekend so that you are focussed for Monday."

With that she flounced off to have a bath whilst I made supper.

The punishment book now has 152 strokes of the cane, as well as the paddle sentence and the hairbrush. Part of me hopes she will not set the list to zero in the space of one weekend but another part is excited at the prospect. 

Hey ho.

Wednesday, 25 September 2013

Back to the house

Sorry that it has been a week since I was last in front of my laptop and able to write on the web. 

The world seems to be in turmoil at the moment with bad news everywhere you turn. 

As my wife would have it, apart from the natural disasters, none of this would be happening if the world was run by women.

Spanking blogs seem to have sprung into activity now that summer is nearly over in the North. There has been a lot of catching up to do on my favourite sites.

I need to get back into the writing  habit. I wasn't short of ideas whilst I was away, just short on time to get them down on paper.

I still haven't been given the OK to orgasm and it is now over two weeks. My wife teased me with some phone sex whilst I was away but insisted that I only rub myself and tell her when I was near the point of coming and stop.

I am in need of a good thrashing and hoping that something will happen on this score very soon. 

I asked my wife if I could purchase a new cane with some of the money I earned on the contract and she has said she would consider it.




Time to get on with some household chores now.


Monday, 16 September 2013

Not much going on

So far the weekend has been uneventful and I have to go away this evening on a consulting job. I am not sure if there will be the opportunity to blog but I will try and write up a few ideas and have them ready.

In the meantime I leave you with a picture of an actress who is filling my fantasy thoughts at the moment.


To spank her or be spanked? That is the question. Or maybe do both











Here is a chap who knows what he wants at the end of a busy day at the office.


Friday, 13 September 2013

Demerit book appears

After dinner last night ,and before I did the washing up, my wife produced the small punishment book from her handbag. She opened it and turned each page slowly, taking a glance and then looking across at me as I cringed with anticipation.




"This book is a mess," she said. "I  can’t tell where we are and what you are still due to receive as punishment."




"No, ma’am.  Sorry ma'am"




"So I want you to sit there and sort it out. But you can start by adding 12 strokes of the cane for sloppy work. I’m going for a bath and when you are done you can come up and read it to me. Don’t imagine anything is going to happen tonight, although depending how I feel  we may have a session on Saturday."


"Yes ma’am."

She flounced out of the room, leaving that delicious possibility hanging in the air.

I tidied away the dishes and sat down to concentrate on the book of misdeeds.

I could see right away what my wife had complained of. 

In one entry in April I had been awarded 80 strokes with the cane, 40 with the paddle and five minutes with the hairbrush. Then there was a further award of 40 with the riding crop but only those 40 had been ticked off in the book as having been given on my bare bottom. 

She had paddled me on one occasion but I had not written in the number of strokes, possibly because I had lost count when she was spanking me. 

There was no sign of the cane strokes having been allocated, so I decided to write up a new page. This time I drew a line down the side of the page so that I could show when the misdeed had been expunged.

So I now have 12 cane strokes from last night, 80 of the same from the time before and 40 with the paddle and on top of that a hairbrush spanking still to come.


I went to her bathroom and showed  the relevant page of the book to my wife and apologised for not keeping it up to date. I had to read it out in front of her, kneeling on the tiled floor, and ask for the punishment to be given so that I could learn my lesson.

It is now back in the drawer of the chest in the bedroom. Perhaps it will come out this weekend?

  Maybe I might l also get released to orgasm before I have to go away.

Thursday, 12 September 2013

Unannounced return

I have quite a few stories in this blog to which I really need to add chapters and I will endeavour to do this. In the meantime here is a tale which came into my head the other day.
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The house was set back from the road quite a distance and it could have been a large single dwelling. In fact it was a semi detached property which was a common construction in the late Victorian era. There were two driveways and a low hedge divided the gardens at the front.


Michael swung his car onto his property on the late August evening just as the sun was going down. 


The tyres made a soft crunching noise on the gravel as he drove up to the garage, which was set back and slightly to the rear of the house. 

Using the electronic key he opened the garage door and drove his sports car inside the cool, well organised space. He had been on the rigs for nearly four weeks and he was glad to be home. He was looking forward to a month of R&R, when he could do pretty much as he pleased.

He swung his waterproof kit bag out of the car along with the food and drink purchases he had made at the local 24 hour store. The house was quiet when he went through the kitchen door and it was a real pleasure to be back. After a shower and a few moments of food preparation he sat in the living room enjoying a simple plate of pasta. It was so good to be eating alone watching TV in his own place instead of in the crew hall of a rig, a hundred miles into the Atlantic, off the coast of Africa.

When he had finished the wine bottle he made his way to bed. It was still early but he was tired from nearly two days of travel. The late summer night was still warm so he had opened a window and lay flat on his bed in just his pants. Communal living in his 2 person dormitory meant that he had hardly touched himself over the last few weeks. When his dorm mate had been on duty he had taken a quick wank, more out of boredom than anything else. Now he had an opportunity for a much slower hand job.

He had been lying on his bed only a few minutes when he heard voices coming from the window of the house next door. They were a young couple who had moved in six months or so ago  and had been busy refurbishing since the day they had arrived. e had only met them a couple of times. She was attractive and her husband is something in the finance world so they seemed to have plenty of spare cash.

The voices were too low to hear what was said but then he heard what was quite clearly a smack followed by a yelp. The smacking noise repeated and settled into a rythym. Clearly someone was getting spanked and when he heard more of the woman’s voice than her husbands Michal figured it must be him on the receiving end. 

It didn’t take long for sound of the spanking to have an effect on Michael's imagination and his erection stiffened visibly. In only a few minutes the though of that pretty young woman spanking away on a bare bottom had him on the edge. 




For a second or two he conjured up the image of the girl receiving  a spanking in return and then it was all over for him, he had shot his load.





Wiping himself clean before getting between the sheets, Michael realised that the room next door had gone quiet, except for might have been low moans of pleasure.


In a somewhat mischievous act he got up and slammed his own window shut. They would now he was home now. Smiling to himself he looked forward to making their acquaintance again tomorrow. Perhaps in a chance encounter over the garden wall.

Tuesday, 10 September 2013

Stop and go

I have not been permitted to orgasm since my wife imposed a "Cease and Desist" order on me on the 2nd of September.

The time before that I was without release from 26th August to 31st September.

I enjoy the imposition of this restriction and it appeals to my submissive nature. On the days when I am tempted to grab my erection and rub, particularly when writing or reading erotic or spanking blogs, i remind myself of her instruction and pull back from the brink.

The current restriction is driving me mad. Two or three times we have had play sessions where I would have dearly loved to climax but there was no statement from my wife to lift the embargo.


I am travelling next week on my own and if I do not get a signal before I leave then I will be sorely tempted, as I lie on my hotel bed, to take my cock in my hand.

I have kept myself shaved for  a few weeks hoping that my wife might do one of those painful ball and testicle spanking sessions. 


It is thrilling to be on my back, with her bottom over my face, whilst she whips me between the legs and pulls hard at my prick.




 I guess that I just have to bide my time.


Monday, 9 September 2013

Knuckle down.

We had a busy social Sunday with one of our children back for a day or so's visit.
Apart from that nothing to report really. I have some work coming up which will take me away from the house for a week. 

Hopefully I will have some evenings free to get some writing done. My story about Searching has ground to a halt and I should knuckle down to try and write some spanklets.

Having just used the term "knuckle down" I thought I should look it up. 

It seems that it has to do with playing marbles and how to position your hand and thumb.

n 1740, Thomas Dyche and William Pardon published A dictionary of all the words commonly us'd in the English tongue. In that they define the verb knuckle or knuckle down as:
"A particular phrase used by lads at a play called taw, wherein they frequently say, Knuckle down to your taw, or fit your hand exactly in the place where your marble lies."
knuckle down

I suppose that "knuckles down" is also the best instruction on how to grip the paddle or cane as it reaches the landing point.





Sunday, 8 September 2013

All quiet at the moment.

Saturday was a sunny day so maybe I was wrong when I said that Summer was coming to an end. It has certainly been one of the better years in the UK for hot weather.

We took a shopping trip together yesterday and bought mainly small household items. For lunch we went back to that store where you have to negotiate your way through the lingerie section before getting the portals of the café. 

There were some pretty "new arrivals" and I wondered whether I should spend some money buying new bra and pants for my wife. She guessed at my thoughts and told me she had quite enough panties and that I should stop staring at the racks.

In the afternoon we prepared for the return of one of the children. Spanking and sex will be off the agenda for a couple of days, at least physically if not in my head.

The level of blogging by other people seems to have increased now that maybe people have returned from vacation so there is loads to read given time on the laptop. 

Tumblr is very full of all flavours of TTWD so this can be a distraction as one follows one link to another. I must spend less time doing this and more time writing.

Enjoy your Sunday.


I remember it was a Sunday like this when I had my first heavy petting session. I must have been 14-15 years old and I had been seeing a girl called Catherine. We had done the movies together and a dance and I went round to her house on this particular Sunday to go for a walk. 

It was probably late Summer just before we were going back to school, (not mixed) and there was precious little to occupy us. Anyway we settled down on the grass in a quiet place overlooking a reservoir of town water. Kissing led to fondling and then Catherine let me run my hand farther up her dress and thigh than was generally permitted. 

Under her knickers I discovered quite a lot of hair with my fingers and then, joy of joys, the pink stuff. I have been addicted to that silky damp place ever since. 


Hey ho . If only I could go back and start again.