Sunday Spanklet - Novel purchase

Spanklet  (n.) - definition - a very short story where an individual is spanked or caned.
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"Looking for something in particular ?"

"Just browsing thanks." I smiled at the young man behind the counter.

"Well don't forget that we are here to sell you know, not just to provide shelter from the rain."

"I won't," I replied cheerily, moving around the room.

The shop front had been dark, not really advertising what was inside. I had found the address from the web and I had some time to spare in that area of Oxford street so I searched it out. I know most of the sex shops to the south of Oxford street, in the Soho area, but had never discovered this one, which was located more in office and hotel land.

There was no mistaking the fact that it was a leather emporium for gays, both men and women.

 I am not homosexual, or so I  keep telling myself, but I have had homoerotic experiences as a teenager and I do like wearing ladies knickers so maybe there is something as yet unrevealed in my psyche.

The rubber-wear on the racks did not appeal and the leather bondage gear was not something I could see myself taking home to my wife and Mistress. (Here darling, can we try this tight harness tonight? - I don't think so.)

I dallied a while at the strap-on and dildo section. Some of the dildos were like super-sized and I have no ideas how those are accommodated. I gazed longingly at a nice light strap-on assembly, wishing that my Mistress would indulge me in that fantasy. She is happy to occasionally insert a vibrator but says she will not get into the gear so to speak.

When I arrived at the BDSM area of the shop there was more to interest me. Handcuffs, wrist restraints, leather paddles and so on. As I lifted a very nice long crop with a silver topped grip from its hook on the wall, a voice behind me made me jump.



"Try before you buy, if you like?"





I turned to see the young store assistant only a few feet away. He reached forward to take the crop from my hands.

"Receive or give?" he quizzed, as if he was asking for my shoe size.

"Er, receive I suppose"

"Well things are quite right now. Drop your trousers and bend over."

"What?"

"Do it."

I put down my briefcase and unbuckled my belt underneath my suit jacket. As the trousers fell to the floor I turned away and assumed the position, half bent forward from the waist and hands on my outstretched knees. I felt the jacket being lifted behind me and the cool air on my bare thighs and pants.

The crop landed hard across my cheeks. Harder than I had ever been hit before in fact.The pain ripped through my bottom and into my brain. I gasped a breath.

"Like it?" he asked.

"No, yes, no I don't know. Its tough".

"So take another one."

He struck again, low down this time and I nearly tipped forward into the display.

"You chose an expensive one.This is hand braided leather on a lexan nylon rod. Very good craftsmanship."

The third stroke hit the fold between the top of my legs and the curve of my bottom.

"How much is it?" I asked between gritted teeth.

"Fifty pounds." He struck again. "Or you can have a discount if you buy something else as well."

Twice more he lifted the crop high and crashed it into my bottom.

"Fifty pounds!", I thought to myself. My wife would go mad but it did feel good, if you like the pain.

"OK, OK yes. I'll take it"

"Sort yourself out then and I'll wrap it for you. If you see anything you like, bring it to the till."

I rubbed my bottom and pulled my trousers up.

There was nothing else I wanted to buy right then and I probably did not have the money anyways, so I made my way to the till. A girl walked through the shop door just as I was reaching for my wallet. She came up to the desk to talk to the owner.

"Mmm, nice whip," she said, admiring the crop as the young man wrapped it in brown paper and taped down the edges.

"He seemed to like it," he said, nodding in my direction.

"Ah I see, you had a test run. Well I could always give you some more if you want to come downstairs."

"I think I'm OK thanks." I rubbed my bottom. "What's downstairs?"

"Just a bit of dungeon space. For private parties or special guests."

"It's a nice idea,"  I said, as I keyed in the pin numbers of my charge card, "but I don't really have the time. I've got a meeting."

"Shame.Come back afterwards if you want. I'll be here all afternoon now until seven.". 

I picked up my parcel and briefcase and turned to make my way out.

"Have a good one," the girl gave me a cheery goodbye. "And don't forget to come back."

I set off for the train station. I didn't really have another meeting, I had just made that up.

As I sat down in the train I wondered about that dungeon affair and resisted the urge to pick up my stuff from the rack above my head and head back to the shop. 

"Better not," I thought. I already had some unexplained marks on my bottom which I would have to keep to myself for another day or so. That meant that I had to keep the crop under wraps as well, because my wife would surely want to use it and might see some evidence of the beating.

I would save it for special occasion. Maybe that holiday we are planning in the Lake District.

Still, it would only be a couple of weeks before I would be back in London. Maybe I could find time to visit that shop again?

As the train pulled away from the platform, I settled back into my chair appreciating the tingle in my bottom as I slid down and stretched out my legs. I closed my eyes, day dreaming of a return visit to the shop. 

Bathbrush hazing to lift depression

It is a holiday weekend over here in the UK. The weather came in cold and grey with a few sunny spots, and grey was how I felt. I had been depressed for a few days last week and couldn’t shake off my gloom.

In turn, this reflected on our relationship which became silent around Saturday lunchtime. I knew it was my fault, but I couldn’t shake it off and get with the programme as they say.

Saturday mornings I generally clean the bathroom and guest toilet and this Saturday was no different. As I was placing ornaments and bottles and shower gel back in their place after scrubbing and wiping the walls, glass and tiled floor, I took the bathbrush off its hook, dropped my short  and gave my bottom a few swats. The effect was immediate. I felt the pain and then the endorphins rushed to my brain.

I took the brush downstairs, where my wife was working on a cake in the kitchen.

“Will you spank me?” I asked.

“Why?”

"Because I need it.”

“I agree you need something, you are being a tedious toad at the moment." She wiggled a flour covered finger at my face. "OK. Take that brush back upstairs and I will come up and deal with you when I am finished here.”

She left me waiting in the bedroom for another ten minutes or more. When she arrived my wife looked like she meant business.

“Get the guest bedroom chair.”

She was sitting on the edge of the bed when I got back to the room carrying the sturdy oak chair.

“Put it down in front of me then strip and get over the seat. I will be here for sometime so I may as well sit comfortably.”

I got into position with my bare bottom in front of her right side, my legs outstretched  and my hands on the carpet.

She tapped the brush on the right cheek.

“You’re too close. Get up and move the chair away six inches. You are tubby as well. You need to loose weight.”

That comment was not going to make me feel less depressed but I said nothing, just tried to pull in my tummy.

When I was back over the chair again my wife tapped the brush left and right and remarked that this was a good spot but that I needed to shuffle forward over the chair a bit more.

“That's better now I can sit here all day and deal you in comfort."

The spanking started gently at first but then she began to land very hard thwacks. They were alternated on each cheek.

I gripped the legs of the chair tightly and let my mind go into subspace as quickly as I could manage. After a few moments the pain became separated from my body. It felt as though some distant part of me, not connected with my body,  was being spanked as I became the naughty boy who needed to be disciplined. 

I concentrated on the sexual side of what my wife would look like if I could watch her spanking me and I pushed my legs out straight,  trying to impress her that I could take everything she could give with that hateful brush.

The endorphins shot around my head telling me to liven up and forget my troubles and I obeyed their message.

After a long while I started to sob and plead with my wife to stop but I did not really want that. What I wanted  the most was to luxuriate in my submission.

After possibly a hundred spanks to each side of my swollen bottom she stopped.

When she left the room, telling me to spend thirty minutes in the corner and then come downstairs, I pushed myself off the chair and hobbled into the bathroom to get a view of my bottom in the mirror. It was glorious composition of pink, red, purple and white spots. I was red in the face from crying so I splashed on some cold water and put myself in the corner. 

As the throbbing subsided I imagined the scene in my head, fantasizing that my wife would come upstairs with a friend and they would discuss the benefits of keeping their men under control.

 I walked down the stairs after my "time out" content that my hazing had made the world  a sunnier place  and I am still cheerful writing this blog two days later. 

Nice enough Sunday

We went to the movies on Sunday afternoon and saw a nondescript film about a man in search of happiness.

He achieved what he wanted in the end but it wasn't terribly exciting.

Things looked up a bit when there were two scenes of women in boy pant knickers and one of a woman in short pyjama shorts.

When we got home I made supper and asked my wife if I could massage her feet whilst she watched a TV drama about life in in some early 1900's English settlement. 

Why it is called a drama I don't know because nothing dramatic ever happens, but my wife enjoys it and I would prefer to wash and kiss her feet than sit through the programme.

I made myself busy whilst she showered and got into her sleepwear and then I went down on my knees with warm water in the foot bath and lots of things to scrub and cream her with. I had a whole hour to work on her feet and ankles so I did not rush things. I refilled her wine glass twice and brought her biscuits and cheese to nibble on whilst I worked.



As the programme ended, I had tidied everything away and I came into the sitting room to find her lying on her back sprawled on the sofa, dressing gown open and her short cotton nightie pulled up to her waist.

The invitation was clear and I spent a solid twenty minutes licking and kissing her to orgasm.

All in all a nice Sunday. Hope you all had a good weekend.

Affair - not likely.

When I took her morning tea and the weekend newspaper up to my wife, she reached for the Review section which had a front page headline "Can you affair-proof your marriage?"



"Easily," my wife said in answer to that question. 

"Just keep them on a short rein and whip them every now again. You don't need a therapist to tell you that."

I smiled at her logic.

"In fact I think you could do with some treatment today, so once the bathrooms are done come and find me with the bathbrush."

"Yes ma'am."  I saluted smartly before leaving the room.

"Easy", I heard her mutter as she flicked through the newspaper.

Back in time

Emmanuelle came to mind the other day when Ronnie listed a film on her blog. Sylvia Kristel was my first exposure to interesting sex in the cinema rather than in a girlie magazine. I saw the film with a girlfriend and then went back twice to watch it by myself. 

It was awesome, as they say these days,  and it fed my imagination for many a singleton night with my trusty stiff friend. 





There was no video in those days so you only got the one chance in a cinema to commit the images to memory. 

These pictures only tell half the story, but they still excite me even though the internet is full of much racier stuff.

The squash court scene was memorable for the short skirts and white knickers and a little bit of excitement on the court.

I remember that my girlfriend of the time was a long legged  girl, with dark hair that was cut short. She was quite a player at heavy petting but would not go all the way, nor would she allow herself to be spanked. I wonder where she is now?

Hey ho, tempus fugit.

DD on a Saturday.

Saturday dawned bright and sunny. The impending storm of rain and wind seemed a long way off. We were both in a jolly mood as I had spent a long time with my head between my my wife's legs the night before and she had experienced multiple orgasms before finally falling into a deep sleep.

I made a cup of tea and we chatted whislt she drank it in bed. When she asked what I wanted to do that day, I said I was easy so she suggested shopping. I must have looked a little grumpy about the idea because there was a definite shift of power in the room. Her tone of voice changed to stern.

"Maybe I had better try out that hairbrush to remind you of your place in this house. Bring it over here."

"Get those bottoms off and get over the bed. "





I pulled down my PJ shorts and eased myself over the bed into a very comfortable position on her lap and waited. Slowly she stroked my bottom and then tapped it with the back of the brush.

"How much did this cost?"

"Thirty pounds Miss."

"What? That's ridiculous.  Lets just hope it lasts a  long time, more than my last one."

"Yes ma'am, I am sure it will."

"So lets say thirty on each cheek shall we, to try to get you out of your mood?"

"Thank you ma'am."

"You may not be thanking me in a while. And I haven't forgotten the panty business but we'll deal with that later on. Maybe before we go out for supper."

I stretched out my arms and offered by bottom to a welter of spanks. She did not let up and I was in a lot of pain until I finally climbed over the cliff top into subspace. Once I was there she could spank me for ever. The beating of the hairbrush on my butt  became  secondary to my feelings of love and submission.

I snapped out of the zone when she switched the spanking to the back of my legs and I  bucked and voiced my shock as she whacked away hard up and down my thighs.

When she ceased the spanking I lay exhausted over her lap. My rear was on fire and the glow would have lit a dark room.

As I rolled to one side away from her and onto my back she flicked the brush up against my testicles and that mobilised me off the bed.

When we left for the shops I was in a great mood and all was right with the world. My bum was still toasty and I had selected a g-string pair of pants to keep some fresh cooling air in circulation  between my hot cheeks and the seat of the trousers.

Shopping turned out to be more fun than I might have hoped, mainly because the stores she chose to enter were full of pretty girls wearing not a lot because of the sunny day. Brits go mad when the temperature gets only mildly warm and all of a sudden everyone pretends they are in some Mediterranean beach town.

I caught sight of  more than good  share of bare thigh and the odd curve of bottom under a short skirt. 



 I also hadn't been aware that leather shorts are all the rage this summer. Some of those tight bottoms were just too spankable.

Once we were back home I busied myself with bathroom and toilet cleaning and generally made myself useful. 

I was showering to get ready to go out when my wife came into the bathroom carrying the cane from the blanket chest. She wiggled her finger for me to get out of the shower and then took me by my ear across the bathroom and indicated that I should bend with my hands on the side of the bath.

The caning in that position did not last long because there was not enough room for a swing so we switched to me being on my knees on the tiled floor. She stood over my head so that she could lace me diagonally across my butt with ceiling to floor swipes. The cane whizzed dramatically.


"No more panties without my permission. Understood?"

"Yes ma'am. Sorry ma'am. i understand ma'am."




"So get dry and get dressed. We're going to be late."




The evening was a success. I did not drink so that I could drive and my wife commented on how well I had behaved and that I was a model husband. on the marital bed I resumed my place between her thighs where I had left off the night before. 

When she was fully satisfied, I stood by the side of the bed, prick in hand,  and she told me a delightful story about two girls getting spanked in a tennis lesson so that I could wank and come quickly.

 As she passed me a tissue she asked if I had enjoyed the day? 

 Did I ?

Worth it I hope.

Friday was a good day. I finished a project report with a few hours of dedicated effort and sent it off to the customer. I got through a couple of chores and  prepared a simple meal for my wife. One of her favourites in fact, a spaghetti vongole.




When she was getting changed I took her glass of wine and we chatted about her day whilst I sat on the end of the bed ,watching her undress. 

Once or twice I looked over at the dressing table where I had placed the new plastic backed hairbrush which I had found in a local department store.

It was pricey for a hairbrush but I had some money burning a hole in my pocket and I thought it would please my mistress.



She caught my eye and smiled.

"Don't worry. I've seen it," she said. "Very nice it is too, thank you for the thought. My old one was getting rather tired."

She carried on preparing for her shower and then said I should go away.

"I'm in charge remember"

"Yes ma'am." 

"So do as you're told."



I went off with mixed feelings of disappointment and pleasure.

Rosy 8th of the 8th

If you aim to spank or be spanked on this International Day of Spanking 8/8, then I hope you have a lot of fun.







I have bought a new hairbrush for my dear wife and I will be leaving it out on her dressing table this evening.

Perhaps there will have be some minor task that I have not performed well enough this week, which might lead her to put two and two together when she spies the brush.

The caning for the knicker wearing is due to happen Saturday afternoon so it would be nice to have a tingle in the bottom tonight.

If you do get a spanking today then there might be some attention paid to your bottom if you are lucky.

More naughtiness in panties

Victoria Vista over at Sexual Destinies reminded me that I had not slipped into or been ordered to wear any of my knickers (panties) in recent weeks.

So I set off to work last Friday  in one of the pairs of knickers that have a control band at the front and a thong at the rear. Boy, are they tight. 



They gave me a full day of discomfort at meetings. I dropped in a the health club on the way home and had a fun time keeping myself covered up whilst changing into swimming gear. I should like to be discovered in my panties by one of the female staff but it's not going to happen. 

I wore panties for the next three days and since I am responsible for all the laundry in the house it is not difficult to keep my knicker wearing a secret. But then on Tuesday I messed up and placed one of my black full knickers in my wife's drawer instead of at the back of my wardrobe.They are just an every day cotton pair with a bit of lace round the hem so they did not stand out from the other pairs. 

Yesterday whilst I was making breakfast my wife came down dressed for work and waved the kinickers in front of  me.

"Yours I believe, since they are size 16."

" Yes ma'am. "I   instantly knew what mistake I had made.

"Turn round and bend over the sink"

I was not going to work that day so I was in cargo shorts.As I leaned forward I had my fingers crossed that she would leave them on. 

She flipped the knickers over my head and told me what a silly boy I looked and then undid the button on my shorts and yanked them down.

"Oh my goodness. More girlie knickers," she exclaimed.











Sorry Ma'am." I mumbled from underneath the hood of the  cotton gusset which was over my nose and mouth.

"Sorry you're wearing them or sorry I caught you?" 

I stayed quiet.

" I was going to spank you but that isn't enough now . Pull your pants up and get on with breakfast. I will cane you hard when I have more time."

As she left for work she told me to get out of the panties and make a good job of cleaning the house. She would deal with me later.

Full on or not

Summer sun continues in the UK (makes a change)



Recently Bogey over at Our Bottoms Burn mentioned that he was not a fan of images on spanking blogs which displayed either female or male genitalia in full close up view and I have to agree with him.

Without the touch up this next image would have been XXX

I prefer to see open leg shots from a short distance.

If the spankee is captured in a close up then a pair of panties on the crotch or a thong on the prick are more stimulating and permit more concentration on the spanked bottom.

Penis spanking and pussy whipping are both appealing to me, though perhaps not to all my blog readers, so I sometimes break my own conventions but only do so in smaller reduced images, unless again the view is at a slight distance.

It is interesting to me that drawings of genitals are much less off putting and I think that close ups in line drawings are pretty erotic. Maybe the fact that it is a representation which you see, rather than an actual vagina or cock, means that you visualize  what you want in your own head instead of  having it presented on a plate so to speak.

Here are a couple of fantasies which might not be so easy on the eye if they were colour fotos.

We've come a long way in a short time.

It will be hard for anyone under 20 to believe it now, when you can key any combination of words about sex and your kink into an internet search  and be drenched in images within seconds, but when I was in puberty and beginning a long acquaintance with my stiff prick, I had to find my erotic jollies in more mundane paper-based publications.

The shopping catalogues offered the best opportunity for exciting brain stimuli and they probably left me with a deep rooted interest in ladies lingerie.

Even dressing gowns and nighties in a womens magazine, could help get a young boy going and feed the neurons with sexy thoughts and raise the appendage.

A couple of years into my mid-teens  I became aware of Mayfair and Penthouse at the barbers and looked eagerly for the sort of photo shot that I liked best, bare bottoms, short skirts and the odd reader’s letter talking about spanking.

What a sea change in availability of spanking material in the last 30 years?

These days youngsters have it too easy nowadays, that's what I think!

Can you imagine finding all of this at the click of a button in 1970.

Sunday Spanklet - Parting can be for the best

Spanklet  (n.) - definition - a very short story where an individual is spanked or caned.
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The house seemed strangely empty when Nicholas got home from work. The note in the kitchen was puzzling.

"Dearest Nick, I have left and taken my things. I don't get your weird stuff and it is probably best that we each go our own way. Maybe you should see someone. It's not normal, what you want to do. I think you are a great guy but I don't dig what you want. I told Ginny about it and she said I should just leave now before I get in too deep. I'm going back home to Texas to study again.  I think you're a great guy like I said, so take care and have a happy life

Love and kisses Tracey."

PS,the double bed is mine but you can pay me for it. It is too heavy to shift out and you might have happy memories of what happened on top of it. 

So that  was that. 

Eighteen months of a relationship down the tubes. Nick mooched about for the rest of the evening, looking in the cupboards and wardrobes where Tracey had kept her clothes, but which were now empty. Her presence was gone. 

The next morning he woke up in a better frame of mind and thought that maybe he had just been given his life back. On the way to work Nick started to look at the girls in the street and in the underground in a new way.There were fresh opportunities in the world and he felt good about his future as a single man, at least for awhile. He spent quite a few nights with a bottle of wine and his laptop, searching out his passion in cyber space and enjoying his freedom. 

The next Sunday he answered a call on his cell phone.

"Where are you?"  the female voice asked.

"Who is this?"

"It's Ginny and i repeat where are you? It sounds noisy."

"I  am in the pub." Nicholas was little annoyed annoyed by the question.

"Well go home now . I  am coming round to visit."

"What, why, who the hell are you are to say what I'm doing.?"

"Ginny knows best and you are obviously having too much to drink there. Now do as I say and I will be there in twenty minutes."

Being told what to do by this friend of Tracey's was a bit weird but Nick felt aroused by the tone of her voice, so he finished his pint and said goodbye to the other regulars at the bar and made his way home. What did he have to lose and at least he would have some female company.

He had a few minutes to tidy the cushions on the sofa and put the kitchen dishes in the dishwasher before  the front doorbell rang.

He remembered Ginny as a very attractive young woman and now ,standing at the door in front of him, he had to say that she looked terrific. Hair tied back , skinny top and jeans which showed her midriff. She was definitely worth leaving the pub for.

In the sitting room he offered her a drink.

"Maybe later. Sit down Nick.I have something to say"

He did as he was told. Ginny remained standing.

"I'm all ears," he quipped.

"I need a space to live in Nick. I have just had to quit my apartment because my friend can't keep up with her rent and I don't want to find someone else. i thought maybe I could share with you?"

Nick was more than surprised. He didn't need the money to help pay the mortgage on his house and he hadn't considered renting a room.

Ginny moved a little closer towards him.

"Do you think that's naughty of me, suggesting I move in when Tracey has only just moved out."

Nick was suddenly alert. That word "naughty "set off a nerve tingling stimulus in his brain and in his crotch.

"Well maybe, yes. It's certainly out of the blue."

"So what happens to naughty girls Nick?"

He swallowed and his mind went into overdrive. 

"They get spanked, usually."

"I thought so Nick. So maybe you should do that. I heard that it floats your boat, as they say."

Ginny stepped a closer, thrusting her hips out towards him.

Reaching forward in a dreamlike daze Nick took hold of her belt buckle and pulled her closer still. Slowly he undid the leather belt and popped open the waist button and zip. As he pulled at her jeans Ginny wriggled to help loosen the tight denim fabric..

"Oh sir. Please don't spank me sir."

Nick looked up into her eyes. "You have to be spanked if your naughty."

"Not on the bare bottom sir!"

"Yes, I saidon the bare.Now be quiet. "

The jeans were around  Ginny's ankles and he took hold of the white panties she was wearing and began to slide them down over he soft suntanned thighs. There was only the smallest patch of trimmed hair covering her pubes.

"Oh sir please don't spank me hard."

"It's what you deserve young lady. Now get over my knee."

 Nick too hold of her left wrist and pulled Ginny over lap. She opened her thighs in an inviting fashion and settled over his lap with one thigh between his legs and one over his right knee.
As he landed the first slap on her white cheek she squealed but invited more attention by opening her legs even further.

Ten spanks later and Nick paused  with his hand resting on a pink spot of soft skin.

Insted of the wriggling around and verbal complaints  which Tracey might have been uttering by now during a light spanking  Ginny was calm and still over his lap and she turned her head to look at him over her shoulder.

"Harder," she said. "Spank me harder than that.". 

Nicolas needed no second invitation and began to whack his open hand rapidly over each cheek in turn.

After five minutes or so during which  the poor girl's bottom become  red and the slightly purple in places, Nicholas stopped the spanking. Ginny lay prostrate over his lap.

"Damn. that was good . i knew you would be a hard spanker when Tracey told me about your kink." So can I stay?"

Nick ran his had gently over the hot cheeks in front of him and eased his erection in his trousers with the other hand

"!'ll have to think about it," he said after a long thoughtful pause.

Ginny rolled off his lap and stood up, removing the crumpled  jeans and knickers from around her her ankles. 

"Well,while you think about it I will get my hairbrush from my bag and you can start taking your pants off and be quick about it."




Nick jumped to his feet. Was he dreaming?

.He watched the  cute bare bottom glow under the white tank top as the long slim legs moved slowly across the room.






"If I  am going to live here then  the spankings are two-way Nick, so you'd better get used to that idea."