Friday time wasting

I was home alone yesterday, going through the job search and doing a few chores. I began to daydream a little about the holiday spanking and came up with this scenario where my wife discussed the previous nights spanking whilst we were on the beach.

In my head someone overheard and the next thing my wife was telling another woman about how I am disciplined. Again in my head, it turns that woman had overheard the spanking from her next door room.

Since all these naughty thoughts had given me an erection and things were quiet, I took myself upstairs, stripped off and self spanked with a hairbrush before lying down on the bed with a tingly bottom and a little fantasy in my head.





I had my eyes closed and one hand occupied when the phone rang.



Hello, I said a little throatily.

What are doing, my wife asked.

Just some pc work.

No you're not. There is no echo like there is in the study.

I had no answer.

So where are you?

In the bedroom.

Doing what exactly/

I gave her a brief description, but left out the self spanking and the storyline.

I'll see you when I get home.

Hey ho.

.

A spanking on a Mediterranean Island

Well, it looks like the sparks will fly this week, now that the inhabitants of a certain island in the Med have told the European mainlanders to keep their hands out of their wallets. 

The vodka trail looks promising, as they might mortgage their petroleum and gas fields, which they haven't really found yet, to the ruskies and live to enjoy the sun for a few more years.

It was only last week, before any of this financial scare,  that  my wife and I talked of going back there for another summer break.

I had one of the best and well deserved holiday spankings on that island. 

I went off on  a fishing trip, with a couple of blokes from other  hotels on the island and stayed later than I should have done, drinking in a bar on the quay.

I had told my wife that I would be back at the hotel by 4pm. 

She was OK about me leaving her for most of the day in the hotel but said that she did not want to be a fishing widow on her holiday, so I should get back as soon as possible.

I had to have one drink (of course) with the lads when we got back on shore but I showed no self- discipline and one drink turned into many.

By the time I got a taxi and arrived back at the hotel it was 6.30

I did  not have a second key for the room so I had to knock on the door and the welcome I received was frosty to say the least.

Once inside the room I was pulled over my wife’s lap and spanked hard with her plastic resin hairbrush. 

When she felt my growing erection on her thigh she made me stand and go for a cold shower which she supervised and I was then back over her knee for a second round of blistering spanks. This time with a leather soled sandal which  was almost like a dense wood landing on my bare cheeks.

The wall construction in that part of the world is nothing more than single hollow block with some plaster and since we could hear people next door making holiday love I am sure that they would have heard my spanking.

I stayed close to my wife for the rest of the holiday and made sure she had everything she wanted.

St Patrick's Day

And why not ?

Those spoons

Hi
I got caught out on Sunday.

After writing about knickers I decided to wear a black pair of comfortably large panties on Sunday morning.

I savoured the feel and the naughtiness of putting them on and wearing them under my jeans, without my wife's consent..









We were due to clear out the garage that day, in a Spring Clean, but decided that it was too cold. So instead we opted to do a clear out of kitchen drawers, cupboards and book shelves. The morning passed quickly and there was a lot to of stuff piled up in the hall headed to the dump and the charity shop.

My wife appeared at one point holding a collection of wooden spoons. She had taken them from the utensil drawer and because they all had charred and burnt ends she said she would throw them away and buy new ones. She gave me a wicked look and said that they maybe they had just one more use before they exited the house.

I was told to bend over and touch my toes. She spanked me over my jeans with two of the old spoons and then told me to drop my trousers. 

It was only when I was unfastening my belt that I realised my problem. The knickers were about to show. I tried to pull them down simultaneously with the jeans, as they might look like ordinary underwear,  but the lace edge trim must have shown.

She was puzzled and  cross that I had chosen to give myself a knicker thrill without asking permission, so the spoon spanking turned into a more serious business. I was pretty hot and toasted by the time she had finished and had told me to enter 30 demerits in the punishment book. 

I spent the rest of the day on an endorphin high with a smarting butt. Those spoons can pack a punch.

Here is a favourite video involving wooden spoons, amongst other things Ping pong and spoon

Big knickers

The other day Mr. Bogey, over at Our Bottoms Burn , posted about the film The Secretary. 

I can clearly recall sitting watching this film at  the cinema, with my wife  caressing my crotch with her right hand, asking me if I was enjoying myself. 

Without  a doubt the big knickers that were pulled slowly down were one of the highlights for me.

I have a thing about large pants - to me they are just as appealing, if not more so than a curvy bottom in a thong or no knickers.

I wonder if this stems back to the days when the only females with very few clothes that I came into contact with as an adolescent, was in the lingerie catalogue.

Being able to gaze on a woman dressed like this, before I receive my just desserts at the end of a cane, is a prime fantasy and my wife often makes it a reality since she likes wearing them.

And another stimulating fantasy, which I often call on when I am alone in a hotel bedroom on business, is where this woman takes me over her knee when I am wearing identical lace knickers and gives me the hairbrush spanking of my life. This fantasy almost certainly has its roots in  the start of my spanking obsession. But that's another story.






I have a few large knickers of my own, from the UK's favourite knicker shop,which I occasionally slip on for day time wear under my suit and for which I have been punished if it was unauthorised by my Wife and Mistress.


For those of you who might enjoy another look at the slow reveal in the Secretary scene,      here it is.

(And then of course there is the no visible knicker Secretary spanking in Californication, )

Women's Day March 8

There are no equality issues in our household which need resolving.

Everything got straightened out a long time ago.

Learning my place

The marks on my bottom, left there on Sunday from a very extensive punishment caning, have just about gone. My wife asked to look at them yesterday morning and noted that there were just a few lines on one side. She joked that she might freshen up the redness this weekend. 

Last evening I was preparing dinner when the phone rang. It was her telling me that she was going to have a drink after work and would be home later on. I must have sounded peeved because she asked what was wrong.

"Nothing. I just cooked a nice meal that's all."

"Well darling, it will just have to wait won't it.! Partners do this to their spouses all the time don't they?  Husbands are always ringing up to say they are going to be late for some reason or another and the wife just has to grin a nd bear it. So this time it's my house-husband who will be doing the waiting."

She switched off her mobile. So that was that.

About  two hours later there was a text pinging on my phone. 

    "Put yourself in the corner. I will be home soon." 

I had the dinner ready so I did as instructed. 



The front door slammed and I heard the steps on the stairs. She flounced into the room and lectured me about being the submissive and doing what I was told and how if she decided to do something she would damn well do it. I stood there nose pressed against the wall and not daring to say a word.








"Now get downstairs and get the meal on the table. I will take off my make-up and be down in a while."

As I left the room she gave me one more instruction.

"And dig out the Punishment book. I will add this sullen behaviour to the list and deal with you at the weekend."

"But the list was cleared on Sunday."

"Are you arguing with me?"

"No ma'am"

"Good and for your information that caning was for the parking alone. nothing to do with the list."

Hey ho. 

Fines means canes

Time passed slowly over the weekend. My wife was still treating me to a silence and I was nervous about how she would settle my punishment for the parking fine.

On the Saturday I got on with the jobs she had listed out and she went off to the shops. That evening we were due out for supper with friends and I was told to behave myself in company.

I struggled  to keep my cool when the conversation turned to politics but my wife gave me two or three “looks” so I held my peace, when they were discussing things with which I disagreed.

 I abstained from the heated conversation and one of the other guests asked me if I was feeling alright. Obviously I was not coming across as the usual fiery debater.

I had learned my lesson from my Mistress.

 It was an enjoyable evening but without a drink for me , so I was unable to join in the laughing and joking. Being the sober one makes you see how silly people can get with drink.

I was chauffering two of our other friends (my wife’s suggestion of course) and it was midnight before we finally got home. Once we were in bed I attempted to engage her in sex and cunnilingus but my advances were rejected. She was keeping me in my place.

On Sunday morning I brought tea and the newspaper to my wife and made as if I was going to get into bed to share some quality time. This was not on the cards.

Instead I was sent for the canes, all three of them, and the long Spencer paddle and told to shower and wait naked in the corner of the room in just my pants.

I fidgeted once a twice and rearranged my stiffening prick inside the shorts. She told me to keep my hands on my head and to leave her in peace to read the papers.

After maybe half an hour she got off the bed and went to the bathroom. On her way she patted my bottom and said it was not long now. I should relax she said and accept what was coming.

The churning in my stomach increased and my head was awash with that pre-punishment spin. I knew that I deserved the caning but I was in that halfway state of wanting it to start, but hoping it wouldn’t.

When she came back to the bedroom her command to go to pick up the implements surprised me. I followed her down the stairs. She had on a dressing gown and I was semi-naked. I felt very foolish, like a naughty boy following his governess.

She walked into the sitting room and told me to fetch a dining room chair. I placed the canes and the paddle on the coffee table and did as I was told.

My wife turned the chair so that is was side-on to the table and pointed where she wanted me. I bent over. I had to be on the tips of my toes to balance my waist over the chairback and hold onto the seat in front of me. This was not going to be an easy position to hold for a long time and I was sure that she knew it.

.

I waited in a state of nerves whilst she took her time removing her dressing gown and then picked up the paddle. When it struck me hard across my pants I jumped forward.

“Remain perfectly still. You are getting 56 strokes so I want no squalking or complaining.”

“Yes ma’am and could I say how sorry I am for wasting the money.”

“You could but it won’t make a damn  bit of difference so be quiet.”

The long paddle het me across both cheeks with a vigourous smack. The pain, even through my pants, was harsh. I let out the breath I had held and resolved to take my punishment as best I could. I lost count in my head at twelve strokes and simply tried to absorb each smack.

When she had reached whatever number she thought appropriate my bottom was roasted and I had tears welling up in my eyes. For the first time in a long time she had paddled me to the point where I nearly could stand no more. I lay in position with shaking legs from the effort of staying put.

“Get up. You will be caned at twelve o’clock and again at six, so make sure you are in position and waiting for me.”

She left the room and I found it hard to push myself off the chairback. I had been paddled to the point where my bottom muscles were aching.. It was meant as a punishment and it truly served as one.

Upstairs I took a look at my aching bottom in the wardrobe mirror. I was bruised and red but now felt kind of  proud that I had taken my spanking without complaint.

Back downstairs I made breakfast and my wife was in a cheerful mood. Commencing on my punishment seemed to have taken away the silent treatment. She asked me to lower my trousers and show her the results of her work. She gave me a wolf whistle of approval.

We went for a longish walk and I did some job hunting on the pc in the study. I kept one eye on the time and soon enough it was close to twelve. I visited the bathroom and stripped to my pants and then went into the sitting room. The temperature was low as there had not been any heating in there for a day or two. I was shivering. With a glance at the canes on the table and butterflies in my stomach I went over the back of the chair. The idea of the caning was exciting but daunting.

I heard the door open and shut and a cane clattered a little as it was lifted off the table.The  sound of whiz, whiz, whiz of trial strokes behind me indicated that she had chosen the dragon cane.

My wife inserted a finger into the waistband of my pants and pulled them see-saw like down to my knees. They fell to the floor is a puddle of cloth around my feet.

“ Lie perfectly still but count the strokes and tell me you won’t get a parking fine again.”

I braced myself and my cheeks clenched. When I remembered to relax them she struck. After the noise of the cane slapping flesh a few times there was a pause, a whiz and then the rush of hot pain hit my brain.

“One, and I won’t get a parking fine again.”

Again the cane whistled down and the tip crossed over my right cheek and flicked into the skin on the side of my bottom.

“Two and I won’t get a parking fine again.”

The caning continued relentlessly. I found it more difficult to catch my breath and formulate the words in my head so there were longer and longer pauses between the strokes. My wife would not deliver a stroke until she was satisfied that I had spoken out clearly.

When she finally got to 56 I was a spent man. My sore bottom was testament to the skills my wife has developed over the years. She might not be into corporal punishment and spanking herself but she knows how to dish it out. Placing the cane back on the table she left the room.

“See you at 6 and don’t be late.”

That last caning was no less severe. She debated with herself as to which of the two unused canes she should take up. Opting for the thicker less flexible school cane she once again stripped off my pants. This time I had to count the strokes and thank her for each one. It must have taken about fifteen or twenty minutes for to deliver all 56 strokes.

I will not be getting a fine for parking or even at the library in the future. The marks and bruising lasted until Tuesday and I can still feel some soreness on my right flank as I sit here writing this.

Sunday Spanklet - Taking charge of your man

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

I enjoy reading your articles about spanking and being spanked. You write about your experiences in a humorous way and you obviously enjoy yourself.

You were asking about Tops the other day so I thought I would tell you a little bit about the relationship I have with my man. He is a widower, it was a car accident.

I was divorced a few years ago and he and I got together after a chance meeting at a party.

Robert and I are firm friends and lovers and we do everything that a dating couple would do, except we decided to live apart and keep our own space. That way if the relationship breaks down then there won’t be a lot of legal hassle and we can just go our separate ways. In many ways this freedom strengthens our relationship.

We had been dating seriously for a few weeks when Robert was particularly rude to a waiter at a restaurant and I let him know that I did not think that was the way for a gentleman to behave. When we were back at my house, and he was probably thinking of when he would be getting into my knickers, I reminded him of what he had done and  I said that I thought he was a particularly spoilt person and that if he was going to carry on like that then maybe he was not the sort of man I would like to out with.

 I don’t know why it came into my head but I went on to say that if he had been a young boy he would have been taken across my knee and spanked to teach him some manners.

He looked at me with a sort of sad and ashamed face and said that he agreed. When I asked him what he agreed with, he said that he agreed that he should be spanked. I was a bit surprised, to say the least. I had never hit or spanked anyone and the idea that this tall 35 year old man would want to submit to a spanking from me was intriguing. I knew about spanking and bondage as a sex game but my previous husband had never expressed any desires to play along those lines.

What happened next completely changed the dynamics of my relationship with Robert, for the good of both of us I think.

I told him that if he felt that way then I would certainly punish him but it would not be a play thing and as I was still quite cross at his behaviour I told him that I would use something like a wooden spoon because my hand would not be tough enough.

He suggested that maybe the hairbrush in my bedroom would be the best thing to use. We went upstairs and I sat on the bed and told him to fetch the brush. Very meekly he stood in front of me and I said he should apologise for being rude and ask for his punishment.

Without any hesitation he did as he was told and then unfastened his trousers and let them fall to the ground. His excitement was evident. It was as if he was trying to get this spanking and I thought that this was not the way things should be. I told him to pull up his trousers again and that I would decide when they should come off, not him.

I was now even more cross with him. If he thought this was a game then it was one I would not play. I asked him to leave the bedroom and go home. If and when I decided to punish him, I told him, then it would be under my terms not his. He looked a bit embarrassed but I led him to the front door and said goodnight.

Over the next few days he rang me countless times but I did not take his calls. I spent my evenings browsing the internet trying to find out about men who liked to be punished, which Robert so obviously did.  It wasn’t difficult to discover that there was a whole world of spanking out there about which I knew nothing.

I eventually came across web sites which described in detail how women had taken control of their marriages and trained their men to be better partners. I had a suspicion that some of these sites were written by men but there were many that had the ring of truth about them and were pretty obviously written by a female.  The idea that I could tell Robert what to do and when, if he was willing to meet me halfway, was very thought provoking and stimulating.

When Robert rang again on the Friday I answered his call. He began to apologise and I stopped him dead. I told him that I would do the talking and he could either listen or hang up and we would not meet again. He fell silent and stayed on the line so I began to outline the new rules of our relationship. When I had finished I asked him what he thought and he agreed that this was what he had wanted all along.

 He went on to say that that whilst he felt that he had to be a tough kind of man in public and at work, he felt deep down that he wanted a female to dominate him. I said that I was into kink like the leather and the whips that I had come across on the web. I would punish him if it was required but I wasn’t about to hang him from the rafters and beat him.

I gave him three instructions if he wanted to show he was sorry about his behaviour and start our relationship afresh. He agreed to all three and I told I would meet him outside the restaurant where he had been so rude on the next Tuesday evening at 7.30.

Before I put down the phone I repeated that I wanted this relationship to work as I enjoyed being with Robert, but it was now up to him. Another thought suddenly occurred to me and I told him not to touch himself at all that weekend and that I would know if he had done.

After work that day I stopped at a department store and bought some clothes which I would not normally have considered wearing. In the Beauty section I found just what I was looking for – a brand new hairbrush, but this one was larger than the one I owned and was made of a hard plastic. I retired to the changing rooms to try on my clothes and whilst in my underwear I gave my bottom a couple of whacks with the brush. They were suitably painful.

When we met on the Tuesday I had put on the clothes that I had bought, which were a long skirt and white button-up shirt. I looked a bit like a teacher which was the effect I wanted. I wore a longish coat and scarf and hat to keep warm. 

Robert tried to kiss me on the street but I pulled back. I asked him for the written exercise that I had given him to do and told him that I would read it in the pub whilst he went to make his apology to the waiter.

He did not take long. I had only just settled in the chair in the pub, with a glass of wine, when he was back by my side. I told him to sit whilst I read his papers. He said he would get a drink. I told him he would not. He looked rebellious so I reminded that I was in charge and he should do as he was told.

I sipped my wine and read his paper. I had told him to write a 5000 word essay entitled Manners maketh the man. Robert had made quite a good job but I could tell that quite a bit had been lifted directly from the internet. I chose not to mention this and congratulated him on his effort. I then asked him to recount what had taken place just now with the waiter. With a red face of shame he described his abject apology to the surprised waiter.

I pulled out the hairbrush from my bag and place it on the table to get his attention and asked him about the third instruction. Had he done as I asked?

Taking a printed receipt from his wallet he showed it to me. Robert had purchased what he had been told so I said that I could see no reason for delay. He looked more worried now but agreed with me.

I finished my wine and,  in a loud voice which at least one or two people in the pub could hear, I told him to pick up the hair brush and follow me for his spanking.

We have not looked back and I only need to say the word "manners " now to stop him from doing anything silly in public.

March comes in with a lion

Things had been fairly quiet over the week. We had both been getting on with our work and tasks and job hunting. Going out is curtailed at the moment for austerity. In many ways that is no bad thing - the food is actually better at home and the internet television  provides a lot of entertainment. 

I have started to help at a local charity to get me out of the house and doing something useful. 

Anyway, as I say, things were quiet until Thursday when it came to light that I had forgotten to pay a parking fine that I had incurred a month ago. I had not mentioned the original fine to my wife and had planned on paying it electronically from an account that I used for business so it would remain unknown..

 Only I forgot to do that and a letter arrived at the house which she opened. Woe is me. Now instead of a fine for £28.00 if I had paid within 30 days it is an amount of £56.00 and worse she knows all about it.


There was some serious discussion and I felt pretty bad about the whole thing.. The lecture she gave me was a stinker and there was a long silence for most of the evening. Before we went to bed she called for the punishment book. This has not been out of the drawer for some time and as I turned to the current page and got her a pen, I saw that there quite a few misdeeds which had not been crossed through as having been dealt with by a punishment.

I was told to get on with something useful while she watched the TV and went through the book.
When we were in bed that night she informed me that she was still livid about the whole business of the fine and that she had decided to ignore the punishment book and go straight for a punishment of 56 strokes with the long paddle and two canes. I could expect the worst she said and it would happen sometime on Sunday.

March looks as though it will get off to a difficult start.