Summer and tennis

My wife decided that she wanted the attic(loft) cleared last Sunday. It was my task to bring everything down and lay the stuff out so she could decide what we would keep and what would go. I discovered the two beach tennis bats that I  had purchased on a holiday in Spain, when we needed a spanking implement.

They were only a few Euros but they contributed hugely to a happy holiday and a cheerful husband.










When I came down from the attic on one trip, my wife was holding a bat with a meaningful look in her eyes.


"Keep or go?" she enquired.


I said, keep.


"You need to speed things up or we'll be here all day."


"Maybe I need motivating?"


Without further ado I found myself bent over the landing railing with my trousers down.The spanking that followed was loud and sharp. I pulled up my pants and got on with the job. The bats are now with the suitcases ready for this year's holiday.


Talking of tennis - Wimbledon is back and it has stopped raining. Yippee!

Anyone remember 1996 ?

Pro-Domme - best imagined.

I doubt that I am alone in enjoying the fantasy of visiting a professional disciplinarian. 


It would of course be a huge breach of trust with my wife to make the fantasy a reality, so I will not do it. I have often hovered over the e mail send button to make an appointment or looked hard at the telephone, thinking about making the call.

Good sense has always pulled me back from the edge.


It is best that I  enjoy the dream but I do wonder sometimes if I could take the severe cane or paddle strokes that I am awarded by my imaginary Mistress.


She is always harsh and unforgiving!

Firm control

There is something rather nice about a type of lingerie which has become popular, now that modern textiles can offer both stretch and firmness in one fabric, so as to keep tummies and waists in shape.




If my wife tells me she is in "firm control",  I don't know if she is describing her state of being or what she is wearing under her dress. 

Thanks to Ronnie for reminding me of the days when my wife would wear a corset for fun.

Last Sunday at the hotel

Last Sunday seems a million miles away. I am engaged in redecorating in the house but this seems an appropriate payment for what was splendid weekend. 


We had spent a great day at a wedding party on the Saturday and then had sexual hi-jinks in the hotel bedroom that night, including a rare spanking for my wife. I woke up early on the Sunday and did some blogging in the hotel lobby savouring two or three cups of coffee. It was around 9 am when I received the text from my wife indicating that she was awake and wanting her cup of tea. We have our routines, be they at home or when travelling.

After maybe an hour of mooching in the room we were downstairs enjoying breakfast with the other wedding guests and hotel visitors. It is strange how some people present themselves in public in the morning, no make up, no socks, crumpled T- shirts and  hair all mussed up. There are some very sloppy people out there.

The morning went by in general chit-chat with acquaintances and the parents of the bride and groom but eventually most of the wedding party had dispersed and there was just us and four other people we knew, who were also staying another night. We agreed to meet up in the evening and go out for a pizza and then went our separate ways.

The room had been aired the bed and changed when we got back there. I stood around wondering whether to turn on the TV or read a book or what.

My wife told me to stop looking foolish. She knew what I wanted and agreed that I deserved a spanking for my good behaviour the previous day. She had a plan however. A game if you like. She was going to the leisure suite for a swim and a doze on the loungers but meanwhile I was to go off and find what was needed to make a birch. She thought that the manorial style of the hotel called for an old fashioned birching.

This idea and the prospect of a punishment session energised me  and I set off with a song in my heart in search of a the switches I would need. My first stop was the restaurant where I asked if I could borrow a steak knife. No one seemed to want to know why, which was fine by me. Next stop the kitchen gardens behind the hotel where I pretended to admire the produce, although there was nobody there to see me anyway, it being a Sunday. Eventually I found what I was looking for in one of the greenhouses – a ball of garden twine to bind the branches together. It was all a bit like a treasure hunt.

I spent maybe an hour walking in the grounds of the hotel. Some aristocrat in the past had built himself a lovely pile to live in and enjoy his money in privacy, so there were plenty of large trees and open spaces but nothing suitable for what I needed. Eventually I picked up a trail which seemed to be a footpath leading out of the hotel grounds. In another ten minutes or so I was in the right place – a lovely neglected wood with loads of ground based shrubs and bushes. I set about cutting the long thin branches that I thought were suitable and removing the green leaves.


 The steak knife was the perfect handsaw for this. Once I had my dozen switches cut my next problem dawned on me – how to get them up to our room. I returned to the kitchen garden holding the branches nonchalantly and then hid behind one of the outbuildings. Looking around to see who might be watching I undid my belt and inserted six branches down inside one trouser leg and six in the other. The ends of the switches still stuck out over the waistband so I bent them carefully and pushed them under my shirt. Once I had done up my clothing there was nothing to see, but I was going to be walking strangely since a I couldn’t bend my legs at the knee. Slowly, a bit like a robot , I made my way into the hotel and through reception and to our room. The hotel was quiet and fortunately I hardly saw a soul.

Once in our room I trimmed the branches neatly and took off some small leaf stubs, then I wrapped the twine tightly around each of the ends until I finally had the instrument ready. I swished it onto a pillow on the bed and when I saw the impact I was worried I had done too good a job. I filled the bath with about 6” of cold water and left the birch rod to soak. I tidied things away and took a Citalis pill, hoping for great things later on.

Taking my swimming gear from a drawer I changed and set off for the pool to meet up with my wife. After I had swum we took afternoon tea in our bathrobes on the covered  terrace and then went back upstairs. I was silent and had those nervous rumblings in my stomach and racing blood in my head. Once in the room my wife asked for the birch and I retrieved it from the water. 

I presented it to her in a formal way holding it out in both hands. She didn’t take it but left me standing there arms outstretched. We didn’t speak. There was no need. The tension in the room was electric. I watched as she slipped out of her robe – she looked fantastic in her swimsuit.

Grasping the birch in one hand she pointed it at the bed. I pulled off my bathrobe and yanked down my shorts I felt incredibly aroused. The pill had done its work and my erection was like a flagpole. My wife nodded her approval at my state.  














Completely naked I turned and  bent at the waist with two hands on the bed, my bottom up and legs together. In a few seconds I heard the birch whistle through the air and it landed in a rush of stings. Adjusting her position because she was too close for a good swing with the long branches, my wife began the birching. 

She didn’t use hard strokes, just a good swing, letting the whippy branches do their own work all over my bottom. It felt fantastic. Stimulating but painful at the same time. I wanted it to go on for ever and she sensed that and so did not stop the flogging for many minutes.

When she put the birch down finally I was deep in the sub zone and just stayed in position, relishing the hot throbbing in my butt. I heard her go into the bathroom and in a few moments she came around onto the bed in front of me and lay there naked, with her legs wide open.

“Well come on then,” she invited. “Do your stuff.”

Wet weather duties

The horrible rainy weather is not good. Instead of enjoying summer time experiences such as sitting in the garden with a drink, my wife has told me to re-decorate the guest room.


This is supposed to be a winter time activity.

In June we are meant to be cavorting naked under the sheets on hot sticky afternoons, not struggling with paint rollers and brushes.

                Ah well - I had better get on with it.

Jodhpurs in view

 It  is supposed to be summer here in the UK but there is precious little sign of the sun so far.


Even so the horse riders have been out in the country lanes and the jodhpurs are filling out nicely

That smile is the sun itself.

As the day draws to an end, on another gloomy day, some of us can look forward to the song and swish of the crop of a night owl.

Thanks to Ronnie for the reminder of the pleasure of jodhpurs.

Party time

The wedding on Saturday was a very nice occasion. The bride and groom and respective parents put the whole thing together in the traditional manner with a meal and speeches after the marriage service and they did not have that evening party affair, where people who were not invited to the service come along afterwards.

We ate and partied and danced a little and then watched the bride and groom depart for their honeymoon at around 9 p.m..  When they had gone we all sat around and chatted and some drank a bit more wine.

I was completely sober the whole day. My wife had a few drinks and flirted with a couple of the younger men who were placed on our table. I admired two or three of the girl guests in their short summer dresses but I avoided engaging with them. Best behaviour and all that stuff.

By 10.30 we were back in our room. We kissed and removed some of our smart clothes. My wife hunted around in one or two of the drawers and then went in to the bathroom to do her toilette.

When she reappeared I was stunned.

She had on just her stockings, the smallest of thong panties and a pair of high heels. In one hand was the little red whip and a hairbrush in the other.

“I think I need a spanking,” she said in a “please sir” sort of voice.

I picked up quickly on the role play.

 “You most certainly do young lady. Come here and get over my knee.”

The next few minutes were a delight. I quizzed her about her flirtatious manner and spanked her lightly with the back of the brush. I did not dare go too hard on her as she only responds to a light spanking. I scolded and spanked and she reacted naughtily with lots of wriggling and ouching and saying she was sorry.

When she was pink she slid off my lap and knelt between my legs. She looked up at me as she pulled off my pants and then took my prick into her mouth. My abstinence from drink, and the tablet I had taken whilst she was in the bathroom, had resulted in an impressive erection (for my age) soI savoured the experience, leaning back on the bed with my arms behind me.

After a few minutes of delight my wife stopped sucking and told me to lie back on the bed. She squatted over my face, facing my legs, and lowered herself onto my eager mouth. With one finger I pulled the small strip of material of her panties to one side and held it there against the inside of her leg. I started to lick, slowly, from front to back and in little circles.. In return she cracked the little red whip against my penis. We started a frenzy of licking and whipping. The harder she struck the leather laces in between my thighs, under my balls and across my prick, the more I kissed and played my tongue deep inside her pussy.

We rolled over onto our sides and she shucked off the panties. I buried my head deeper as  she lifted one leg over my head and I began the orgasm treatment in earnest. Her head was down past my knees. She gave me one or two half hearted pats on my bottom and then gave up so that she could surrender herself properly to the orgasms, which came in two or three waves.

Afterwards, we lay side by side holding each other in a spoon fashion. I still had my erection which nestled happily between her cheeks.

“Let’s save that for tomorrow,” she suggested. “We have lots of time to ourselves.”

Just a thought

If you noticed the ball first, you are probably reading the wrong blog.










( I will try to write up the rest of the weekend as soon as possible. Off to earn a crust right now)

Update on Saturday

We were breakfasted and away to the nearby town by 9.00 yesterday. There was not a whole bunch of stuff different to what is on the high street in our own town. We found a couple of antique shops and a gallery but did not buy anything. After a coffee we were back in the hotel by eleven o’clock. My wife joined a group of friends in the bar area for a “girls talk” session and I went off for a walk for some exercise.

I couldn’t find my wife afterwards. One of the male guests, whom I knew vaguely, told me they had all gone to one of the bedrooms to do each other’s nails and hair in readiness for the wedding. I sent her a text “what about lunch” and got a reply “sort yourself out”.

I was in the room and showered when my wife finally reappeared.

There was only about an hour to go before the wedding ceremony started but since the service was being held in the hotel there was no travel time.

“Get the cane out of the drawer and strip.” My wife instructed.

This took me by surprise.

“Go on and be quick. I want you on your best behaviour today so a maintenance session will remind you to be a good boy.”

I hurried to obey but once I was naked she pointed at the corner of the room behind a chair and told me to stand there until she was ready.

I stood staring at the pattern in the wallpaper for ages whilst she moved around the room and the bathroom. She left the bathroom door open and I could hear the clinkng of glass pots on the vanity unit as she applied her make-up and the hum of the hair dryer. There was a long pause then I felt the cane tap my shoulder.

I turned and  was stunned by what she was wearing. Under her bathrobe she had on lingerie and stockings and looked terrific.

“You like?” she asked.

“I love it.”

“Well, you have to earn the pleasure of seeing it later, by being good at the reception.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Bend over then. I think a good thrashing is called for.”

She caned me thoroughly. The whippy cane makes hardly any noise as it strikes, other than the whizz as it goes through the air before striking the skin. I suppose the caning lasted less than two minutes. It was applied clinically.

Afterwards we both got ready in silence and went off downstairs. I kissed her in the lift and she patted me bottom.

“No drinking remember. You have something to look forward to later on.”

I also had a sore bottom to sit on for quite a long time.

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This is quick post from the lobby of the hotel again. Everything very quiet. Sun shining. It was a great wedding and an even better night. More later on if I get a chance.

Saturday morning

Easy trip to the hotel and by the time we arrived the public area was buzzing with the other guests for the wedding. My wife spotted some old friends and went straight over to chat. I was left to book in and take the suitcases to the room. One of the friends looked impressed with my wife’s manner.

I unpacked and put everything away. I sent a text “all done. What now?”

The reply came pinging back “run bath and wait there” so that’s what I did. I showered first because my wife does not like to be in the bathroom at the same time as me.

Once we had changed we went downstairs and joined in the fun. Wedding gatherings are always good humoured. I was told not to drink as part of a new campaign for me to lose weight and I must have been the only sober one there when midnight came around and we all retired to our rooms. My wife had had more than a few glasses of wine so I was hopeful,  but as I watched her get undressed for bed she told me nothing was happening so I should go to sleep.

I am awake early and down in the lobby now typing this up. I expect a call from her sometime soon asking for a cup of tea. The weather is a little better than yesterday. We don’t have to be at the church until 3pm so I think we are going to explore the shopping in the nearby town.

Apart from a couple of keen golfers who are setting out onto the hotel course there is no one else around. They all probably had too much to drink.

Hopefully the day will go well. 

Nice to imagine what the bride might be doing in a few hours time..

Weekend break

After a good weekend, with quite a lot of spanking and discipline, I had expected things to go quiet so I was surprised when my wife sent a text saying that I should pack some “things” for a trip we are taking this weekend. We are away at a wedding on Saturday and staying in a hotel in the North. This has worked out well because  I have some work to do up there on Mondayand my wife will take a day off.

 That means we will pretty much have all of Sunday and Sunday night to ourselves in the hotel, once the other wedding guests have departed.

Now it’s just a case of deciding what to take- she does not like noisy instruments in hotel rooms. Maybe the whippy cane and the little red whip are best. We are driving up there later today, so there are no airport security checks to go through.


I shall probably pack her vibrator to keep her happy.

Can’t wait to set off even though the weather is stormy.

Exercise and depression

In the news in the UK yesterday, was the published report of some research into the treatment of depression, using physical exercise as a means to aiding recovery.

In the study some patients were given help to boost their activity levels in addition to receiving therapy or anti-depressants.

One group had to do physical exercise three times a week and presumably the other group did none. All the participants were prescribed the same tablets as medicine in their treatment plan.

After a year all the patients had fewer signs of depression, but there was no difference between the two groups. Contrary to expectations the exercising group did not pull out of their depression any faster or show a deeper recovery than the other group..

So, if going to the gym and jogging or swimming or taking a long walk, has not been to shown to  make the difference to depressed people, maybe they should try my wife’s cure.

At the first sign of grumpiness or a depressive state of mind, I am bent over a chair for twenty strokes with the paddle or the cane.

I am thus returned to a cheerful state immediately and of course it gives my wife some exercise as well.


Maybe a second, stricter research project is called for, with some European Community funding?

Tuesday treats

Today turned out well.The weather was good so we walked for a while in the woods.

After that we spent time at the health club, which I do not visit as much as I should. For my Jubilee request list I had offered to buy my wife a gift card of a massage and a sun bed treatment. I was going to give her the massage myself but a professional one was a better present. Whilst she was being rubbed and pummeled, I did the 60 minutes on a running machine which my wife had decided  was better for me than 60 minutes corner time. I had to keep switching between running and walking pace. When I started off on the machine I fantasized about my wife being naked on a massage table, whilst a pretty young girl spread oil over her body. By the time I was nearing the end of my exercise all such sexy thoughts had vanished – I was knackered and just concentrating on the elapsed time, hoping I could stop soon.

We got together for a drink – no alcohol – in the cafe and then went home. I thought that there might be some afternoon delight in bed but I was rebuffed when I suggested this. My wife said she just wanted a nap, to recharge her batteries for work tomorrow, so I was left with the washing and ironing to do.

Two hours later, when I was doing some paperwork in the study, my mobile rang. It was my wife using the upstairs phone. She asked me for a cup of tea . When I got to the bedroom she was on the bed just in bra and pants. She thanked me for the tea and said that my good behaviour would be rewarded.

I was sent to the bathroom to freshen up and then go and stand in the corner of the bedroom.  I stood there, shivering a little, for quite a while until I heard my wife get out of bed. When I was told to turn round and kneel in front her she was sat with her legs over the side of the bed holding the bathbrush across her lap.

“Kneel and kiss my feet.”

I got down onto the carpet and laid a gentle kiss on each foot.

“So you want a 60 second spanking with this do you? “, she asked tapping my shoulder with the brush.

“Yes,ma’am.”

“Well crawl over my knees then, like the naughty boy you are.”

The cool skin of her bare legs had an energising affect on my prick and I wriggled contentedly into position.

“My watch only has numbers for the minutes so we’ll have to wait until it changes.”

The seconds dragged on and then the back of the brush smacked hard into my right cheek. The spanks came fast and furious. She was certainly trying to get as many in as possible. Because of the length of the brush they were all landing on the one cheek and it was getting seriously hot, very quickly. She seemed to be just hitting the same place all the time and I was willing her to move the brush around.  I never thought a mnute could last so long. It seemed like she was giving me two spanks a second. At one point I took my hand off the floor and tried to extend it behind me to stop the spanks but she just hit it out of the way and increased the strength of her stroke.

At last she stopped and placed the brush down on top of my back. She  rubbed my burning skin with her hand and I squirmed happily on her lap. My erection had gone but the pushing and grinding sensation felt fabulous.

She pushed me away and down onto the floor.

“Come round to my other side. I haven’t finished yet."

 I waddled in front of her on my knees and draped myself back over her leg.. The blazing right cheek was now pressed against  the cool skin of her tummy. I opened my legs a little to get my balance on my toes and she tapped the brush softly against my thigh, waiting for the new minute to start. Once it did, this second phase of  spanking was no less severe. The direction of the brush was slightly different. It was landing almost vertically down my left cheek rather tan across it, so the hot spot was lower down. The spread of the heat felt fantastic and I was in deep sub space when the rapid strokes stopped. I lay over her knees gasping and thanking her profusely for being my Mistress.

“Get up now,” she commanded. “That’s it for the Jubilee .”

I couldn’t resist kssng her feet one more time.

“Off you go. I’m hungry so you better get a nice supper on the go and I‘ll be down for a drink in a moment.”

I picked up my clothes and left the room. In the guest bathroom I admired the deep red colour of my scorched and throbbing bottom. 


What a weekend. Shames it's all over.

Monday - Reporting for duty

When we were going to bed last night my wife asked me to show her my bottom and commented that there was hardly any marking. Just  a small area of red on one cheek where the tip of the cane had struck many times. 


She asked if I had enjoyed the session and I said yes, very much. She noted that my temperament had been good all day and I suggested that regular maintenance might keep it that way. She told me not to get pushy – it was her decision how and when I get dealt with and not mine.

 I apologised.

This morning when I brought her tea upstairs, she enquired what was else was on my Jubilee request list. I mentioned the 60 minutes of chores and the 60 seconds of over the knee spanking.  If I got on with the first she said, then she might consider the second.

She set me the task of bathroom and toilet cleaning and I left her to read the newspaper in bed.

I quite enjoy cleaning these rooms – there is something rewarding about the shiny tiles and crystal glass after the job is done. As you have to get down on your knees to do a really thorough job this appeals to my submissive side. I stripped to my shorts so that I could use the water spray in the shower cubicle and I spent a bit more than the allotted hour doing the housemaid's chores.

 My wife came through to inspect my work at the end.

Everything was going fine until she ran a digit over the architrave on top of the bathroom door and collected some dust on the end her finger. Bad mark.

On the whole though, she said she was pleased, provided that the downstairs toilet was as well done. 

When she saw me look across  at the hairbrush on her vanity unit, she made it plain that the spanking  would have to wait. 

She said couldn't ignore the dust however, so I had to put my hands on my head and stand facing her in my pants with my legs spread. I had a tremor in my stomach as I knew what was coming.


"Keep your eyes on mine." She yanked my pants up by the waistband until the material was stretched tightly.


With a flick of her wrist she smacked sharply between my legs. My testicles exploded in pain.


"You should learn to do your job better shouldn't you?"


Another smack with her open palm, this time harder.


"Yes, ma'am"


There was no more talking. I could barely breathe, let alone speak. She just smacked me hard four more times until I was dancing in agony.  The pain was excruciating and she got her message across about sloppy work. She likes the quick results of this punishment method.

We are about to set off to the pub to join in the drinks party, so I have a few minutes to blog whilst she is upstairs. 

I haven't had time to work on the story I started yesterday so I will have to try to finish it later this week .

Maybe the OTK spanking will happen later tonight, or not at all.


Rule, Britannia

Jubilee Weekend starts and a tale from Haverstead Hall

The holiday weekend got off to a better start on Saturday morning. I invested a lot of time and energy in making sure my wife had a relaxing day. We had a cheap pizza meal out in the evening and then went to see a movie. It was Prometheus – she didn’t like it much but  we had a drink in a bar  afterwards and I sensed that things might go well in the bed department later on. 

They did. I got her started on orgasm with some applied cunnilingus and then she carried on for  or 7 more orgasms by herself, using the palm of her hand between her legs.

This Sunday morning she sent me back upstairs after I had made her breakfast and told me to strip and wait in the corner in the bedroom, with the cane and riding crop ready. When she appeared after quite a long wait she whipped me hard with both instruments, giving me the 60 severe strokes I had asked for the Jubilee weekend. 

My bottom was on fire and is still warm and well marked after quite a few hours.

 Whilst she got dressed she said I could get on with some more chores including hand washing her bra and pants. I was to stay in the nude  in case she decided to spank me some more.

Back downstairs she pulled out the wooden spoon she had intended to use on me on Friday and spanked me hard. Amazing how sore that small area of wood can be when it is applied fast and furiously.

When I was roasted and wriggling and totally sorry that my bottom was being spanked so hard,  she stopped and asked if I had got my head sorted and was I going to behave myself in the future? I promised her that I would and went to put some clothes on. We left the house for a long walk,  in the rain needless to say, this being England in the summer.

 Later on in the  afternoon I  cooked a meal and then gave her a foot spa and massage, whilst she caught up on some TV viewing of the Danish murder mystery, The Bridge. I knelt on the carpet  washing,  scrubbing and creaming each foot  as efficiently as I could. When I was finished and had emptied the foot spa,  I carefully applied varnish to her each of her toenails and then inserted the foam separator strip and got down on all fours so she could use my back as a footstool whilst the varnish dried off. 


Delight in submission.

My wife has gone upstairs for a bath now, so I have a few moments to update my blog.

I started a Sunday Spanklet during the week but it has turned out to be longer than I intended.

 It may take a couple of days to finish so here is Part One.

Saturday's blog topic was a bit of a lead-in for those of you in the rest of the world who are not drowning in the media sea of Diamond Jubilee and may not know much about the scenario I have set in the story.

Adios for now. 

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Lady Barker was not at all happy, in fact it would be fair to say that she was very angry indeed. She had been woken in the middle of the night with news about the fire on the hill and now her carefully laid plans, for a splendid Diamond Jubilee party at Haversted Hall, had been spoiled by the irresponsible behaviour of her nephew and one of her maids. She had learned all this from her housekeeper who had discovered the maid in tears that morning and who, being fearful of losing her position in the grand house, had proceeded to tell every detail  about how the fire had been started.

Her Ladyship had taken her breakfast and then sat down in her study to write to her sister. She had selected the naughty maid as the most appropriate person to deliver the letter to the Dower House by hand, and she had directed her sternly to wait for a reply.

Dearest Sarah

I dare say you are not aware that James has been carrying on in a most inappropriate fashion with one of the serving girls, Alice, who is now waiting whilst you read this.

What your son gets up to is not my direct concern, although it should be yours, but the pair of them have ruined my plans for a spectacular end to my party on Monday.

It seems that they were drinking and carrying on near the Folly and James decide to show off and lit the bonfire on the hill. This bonfire was constructed to be the finale for the party after the firework display and there is now no time to resurrect a suitable wood structure. As you know the chain of beacons which stretch across the country are designed to be lit in sequence On Monday night to celebrate Her Majesty’s splendid achievement. My guests will be very disappointed that Haverstead Hall will not now have a part to play in this fire display.

I cannot allow this mischief of your son to go unpunished. Aside from the fact that it has spoiled my party there could have been serious consequences if the fire had spread into the nearby woods.

I am sure you know that Thomas would have dealt with the matter very vigorously and I propose to do the same.

Kindly ask James to report to Miss Watson at 5 o’clock this afternoon. I will ask her to deal the pair of them and give them both a good thrashing, which they will not forget in a hurry.

I expect a reply in the affirmative to this letter – otherwise young James can find another sponsor for his University fees and my other financial arrangements may be reviewed.

Your loving sister

Helena

Sarah knew exactly what was implied by the threat in the letter and how her sister’s late husband Thomas would have applied discipline in such a situation. She had experienced his anger once or twice herself and had suffered shaming consequences under his riding crop

Ever since her own husband had run off with that floozy, some fifteen years ago, Sarah had been dependent on her generous brother-in-law and subsequently,on his death in a car accident, on that of his estate.

The alimony from that shabby husband of hers, Edward, which arrived only very occasionally now, was not sufficient to maintain her standard of living and she was very dependent on the rent-free accommodation on her sister’s large property holding and on the monthly payments which were made into her bank account. It was inconceivable that her son’s behaviour should prejudice this generosity of Helena's.

 She sent a brief note back with the maid, in which she wrote how sorry she was that James had caused all this trouble and confirming that he would be at the House at 5 o’clock prompt, for his visit with Miss Watson.

So, after an uncomfortable dressing down and stern lecture from his Mother that morning, James now found himself walking along the attic corridor towards the Nursery, a room turned classroom as the children had grown older and the one in which Miss Watson had ruled with a rod of iron since she was first employed to take care of his two cousins, Annabel and Richard.

In the summer holidays, which he had spent at as a boy at the House, James had been made to attend daily classes with his cousins because his Uncle Thomas had been adamant that the children should not fritter away their time, even though school was out. He still felt nervous about going into that room. Miss Watson had insisted on strict lesson plans even when they were teenagers and had brooked no nonsense.

James was deep in thought as he walked when suddenly his cousin Sarah jumped out from one of the attic rooms and stood in front of him.

“Hello Jamey. In a spot of bother I hear?” Sarah was grinning at him as she spoke.

James could think of nothing to say so he just nodded.

“I hope old Watters won’t be too hard on you. Mind you hanging about with the servants is not a good idea is it and Mummy is furious about her beacon going up in smoke before the great day, so I dresay you are in for it, maybe the cane perhaps?”

Her cousin shrugged his shoulders and muttered something about how stupid he had been. He then moved to go past Annabel.

“See you later,” she called after him.

“Maybe,” James responded, looking back over his shoulder.

He noticed the just how attractive Annabel looked in her short summer dress. Her legs were long and brown and, as the sunlight from one of the narrow windows  behind her shone through the silky material of her dress, he had a passing thought about what she might be wearing as underwear. It would appear that  Annabel’s panties were small, whatever style they were, because he could see no outline of them in the triangle between her thighs.

Until recently he had not thought of his cousin in a sexual way. Their childhood spent together had left him feeling more like a brother to her, but more recently he had begun to notice her feminine charms. Like him, Annabel was away at University now and he was sure she had many suitors and boyfriends who would be keen to get inside her pants.

Turning the corner into the part of the attic over the East Wing of the house his thoughts returned to his current predicament and the last time he had been sent to see Miss Watson.

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(PS I am working on Part 2)

Lighting a beacon

In the celebrations of the Diamond Jubilee of  Queen Elizabeth in the UK, there will be numerous fiery beacons lit right across the country, mimicing  the time when the lighting of beacons, which could be seen from one hillside to another, served as a means of alerting the whole country to some imminent threat.

It is intended that these beacons will be lit this Monday night at around 10 pm


The last Diamond Jubilee was that of Queen Victoria and they had similar fun with beacons in those days, although this lot don't look terribly jolly.

There is another way of obtaining a rosy glow in the night, but this might not be quite so visible over long distances.

Not smart.

Three big  mistakes yesterday, when my wife was away from home on Thursday night attending a conference . Mistake number one was forgetting to put the garbage wheelie bin out on the roadside.The second was more serious - I omitted to lock the back door when I left for work, so the house and its contents were at risk all day. And the third was .... you will see in a moment.


My wife was home before me as the conference finished in the early afternoon. She was stood in the kitchen preparing a meal when I arrived at around 7pm having stopped for a drink in the pub. I had thought she would arrive back a lot later.


Instead of the smile and the kiss might have I expected,  I was met with a scowl and a frown. When I asked what was up,she told me what she had discovered when she got in the house, the unlocked door and the rubbish not emptied. Taking a large wooden spoon from the utensil drawer she lectured me on my carelessness and told me to drop my trousers and bend over the kitchen island surface. This was when my third mistake caught up with me. I had treated myself to wearing a pair of black knickers that morning - in fact I had put them on after my shower and then lay down on the bed and wanked before getting into my suit and tie. Maybe if I  had concentrated on my housekeeping responsibilities instead.


It was pointless arguing with her since my faults were obvious so when I undid my belt and lowered my trousers the black lace pants were exposed to her view. She was not amused, as they say.


"Oh so now you're wearing panties to work are you?" my wife exclaimed  in an exasperated tone. "One night away and you can't do anything except think about sex and your prick." She lifted my shirt tails and smacked me hard across my bottom with the spoon. I bent forward from the waist inviting more of the same but she put the spoon down on the worktop.


"No, I am not spanking you. In fact, that can be your punishment. Go upstairs and get changed and then get on with the laundry I brought home. And take off those knickers, you look ridiculous!"


The rest of the evening was spent in a frosty silence. I hope that she does not wake up this morning still in a bad mood.

I was hoping that the holiday weekend might involve her wearing something like this, but now I am not so sure. 


Three mistakes and I am out, or so it might appear.