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Friday, 14 October 2011

Self restraint and denial

Some F/M blogs are not really to my taste. For example  I have no desire to have my penis caged, be a sissy, have pins inserted into me  or to be milked. I am much happier on the general spanking side of FLR or domestic F/M. I do however get a kick out of wearing knickers (panties)
so I might occasionally mention that .

I can get some pleasure from being denied an orgasm but this is more along the lines of my wife giving me an instruction along the lines of


 “ Thank you for making me come, but now I want to sleep, so you will have to have your fun another time.”

Going to bed knowing that I must not touch a rock hard penis is a very exquisite exercise in submission. I suppose the longest that I have been told not to play with myself is maybe 10 days, whilst my wife was away on a conference. When she arrived back she made me stand naked in the corner of the bedroom as she ran the tip of a riding crop over my shoulders, lower back and bottom cheeks. 
She asked me repeatedly if I had touched myself in her absence and flicked the tab inside my legs against my bottom and testicles. I was practically begging for a hard whipping but instead she told me to masturbate and hold the cum in my fingers. It took me only a few seconds to orgasm, as I submerged myself in her dominance, with the whip end running on my skin. When I had stopped shuddering with the rapid orgasm she told me to turn around. Once she had inspected the contents of my hand and was satisfied by the amount of cum that I was telling the truth, she slapped the front of my legs repeatedly with the tip of the crop and told me to swallow my stuff and lick my fingers dry.
 When I had done as I was told and drunk the warm semi-liquid  she told me to go away and get on with the evening meal whilst she took a bath.

 The following day she rewarded my restraint and good behaviour with a thorough hairbrush spanking .

More usually I am told not to play with myself for only a few days. This can be a real turn on, but as I say I would not like to be wearing any special equipment that physically prevents manual handling.

I have to admit to disobeying the instruction on occasions and hoping not get found out, but what else would you expect from a man.


Thursday, 13 October 2011

Blackberry debacle and consequences

Thanks to the guys at Blackberry I now have 30 strokes with the cane added to the Punishment Book. My wife had e mailed me on Monday, reminding me to cancel a dental appointment since I was travelling. Of course I never got the email with all the Blackberry nonsense going on and I didn’t remember it myself, so a letter duly arrived at home yesterday with a £30.00 fee for a missed appointment. My wife told me about the bill last night on the phone with a tetchy tone to her voice and awarded the punishment for carelessness. Needless to say my technology excuse cut no ice. Apparently the outage was caused by a network "switch" so I hope that particular word does not penetrate my wife's consciousness.


The fault is probably good news for iPhone sales people I suppose, if not for me.

Wednesday, 12 October 2011

F/M Art - Otto


For those of you who appreciate artwork showing spanking in general and F/M in particular, may I point you in the direction of Otto. His work has only recently started to appear in blog world, although given the quality he must have been developing his craft for years.

Take a good look at Otto's Spanking Art 


There is no Maintenance today due to work commitments, but hopefully something in the next few days. I feel I need it.

Spanking therapy for depression

In Bonnie’s last Sunday brunch post over at she raised the topic of spanking to cure depression. As is very common for her popular brunches this brought in over 20 comments.



I see that therapeutic spanking is available, in at least a few places in the USA.

You might want to take a look at
and

For myself I can only say that a hard thrashing with a cane or paddle leads to a huge improvement in my outlook on life and restores my optimism. Maybe it should be on offer at the NHS. The nurses would get to relieve their frustrations in their jobs and the depressed patients would not take up so much time and valuable resource in the health system.


Image by Barb

Tuesday, 11 October 2011

Skirts and boots

Another work trip to London yesterday and it was interesting to see that the return of our more usual October weather, wind and rain, has brought out the boots on the ladies.


Nothing quite like boots and skirts to get the imagination fired up. It made some of the duller parts of my meetings a lot less boring.

On occasions, when my wife has been in an entertaining mood, I have been made to kneel and kiss her boots and then ordered to lie face down on the floor whilst she places one boot foot on the back of my shoulders and slaps my bottom with the tab of a riding crop. I could lie there all day under her whip. Hey, ho.

Saturday, 8 October 2011

Spanking in the news- Charlie's Angels


A crew member on the set of ABC's "Charlie's Angels" reboot was quickly dismissed after he gave actress Minka Kelly an unwanted tap on her bottom.




It seems that ABC are planning a TV series of Charlie’s Angels and the the title took me straight back to the late 1970’s, when this series was a favourite of mine.

I couldn’t take my eyes of Kate Jackson. She was the one for me. 

Taking her over my knee and spanking her would have been heavenly and having her get annoyed and dealing with me would have been even better. Perhaps it was the jodhpurs.

Friday, 7 October 2011

Last Wednesday

Last Wednesday night’s Maintenance session was a relief for both of us. My wife was all chewed up about an issue at work and I needed a serious whipping.
I got home early and prepared a meal and then made the preparations in the bedroom. I set out just the three canes we have and the Spencer paddle, the long one with holes.

I took a shower and pushed my luck by putting on my red punishment panties as a treat. Normally I might get told off for presuming to put on knickers without being specifically instructed to do so.

When she came into the bedroom my wife was brusque and to the point. She had had a lousy day with argumentative men and it was going to be my bottom that she would use for stress relief. I was over the bench very quickly and the panties were pulled up so that the flimsy material offered no protection to my cheeks. The instruction was to stay still for 30 with the paddle and then sixty with the cane. I lifted my bottom up by standing on my toes as I stretched forward across the bench.

The paddle strokes were quick and powerful. The smarting was immediate and I struggled to get my breathing synchronised with the impact of the loud smacks. As she raced through the smacks my wife kept muttering about the uselessness of men and how she would like to thrash them to teach some manners. At least, she said, she did not have that sort of trouble at home.

When the paddling ceased I thanked my Goddess and waited, blazing bottom in the air and a stiff erection squashed into the surface of the bench as I rested.

The cane swished behind me and from the sound I knew that it was the thin whippy one, which she finds difficult to control. In a few seconds I had taken four strokes where the tip of the cane wrapped around the side of my bottom. She scolded me for putting on the knickers without asking me and told me to make a note of 6 strokes of the cane in our punishment book.

The caning continued and my bottom felt good and hot. She was getting her eye in and the strokes were well placed now, up and down my cheeks from top to bottom. After maybe twenty strokes with the thin cane she threw it to the ground and took up the thicker one with the crook handle. I could identify it before it hit me because of the deeper whoosh sound it makes. She whizzed it up and down vertically behind me  to intimidate me and make me flinch. I did!

Then she started with one heavy stroke after another. I let my mind go free and just enjoyed the heat of the strokes. When she finally stopped I wanted nothing more than to lie there and take more cane strokes.  She came round in front of me and using the tip of the cane under my chin she made me lift my head to look her in the eyes.

I hope you enjoyed that, she asked.?

I said yes, and thanked her.

Well then, she instructed, come back in half an hour and you can show me your grateful thanks.

A great mid week session and I am grateful for my Goddess’ attentions, as the marks of the cane are still evident two days later.

Tuesday, 4 October 2011

Banjo back in action ( and a story sent to Ms Dana Kane)

For those of you who appreciate F/M drawing and art, may I point out that Banjo is back on the web and doing good stuff at http://banjosbbs.blogspot.com/ .

 I came across Banjo's work in a Yahoo group a few years ago and admired the way that he could tell a spanking story in a single graphic. His art stimulates you to come up with your own thoughts and ideas about what is going  and you can fantasize happily as to whether it is you or someone else getting their bottom reddened. 


Earlier this year Ms Dana Kane asked for a story submission under the banner of Person, Place and Thing.

A condition of hers was that the story had to make reference to three things; a newly married couple, the Trevi fountain in Rome and a blue umbrella.

Here is what I wrote.

The rescue of a Roman honeymoon.

James had been grumpy and bad tempered all morning, which was not surprising given the amount of alcohol he had consumed on the previous night. Yesterday had been a special day for Charlotte, as you would expect a wedding day to be, and all the guests had raved about how beautiful she had looked and how James was so lucky.
Charlotte had not felt exceptionally proud of her new husband, as she watched him drinking at the bar with his friends, when he should have been dancing cheek to cheek with her. She had also been less than impressed with the way he had looked at the girlfriend of his Best Man. 


Charlotte knew that they had once dated and she was uncertain whether they had in fact slept together. In any event it was not appropriate for her man, who had vowed to be faithful only a few hours ago, to be looking that way at the girl, particularly as the little minx was wearing the shortest dress at the reception.

As they sat, side by side, in the airport terminal Charlotte ruminated on the pitiful outcome of her wedding night. Instead of enjoying romantic sexual pleasure she instead had to endure her husband snoring, stretched out semi- comatose on the hotel bed. The silk lingerie and stockings which she had worn as she stepped out of the bathroom, into what was supposed to be an atmosphere of marital bliss, were now at the bottom of her suitcase and she doubted it would see the light of day for a long time. She tried her best to ignore James’s complaining voice as a further delay of their flight to Rome was announced by the sour faced ground crew at the gate. Flying on a budget airline had been her  choice and she knew there would be no smiling crew,holding a glass of champagne for the newly weds, when they finally got to board the plane. Flicking through her glossy magazine Charlotte went into a daydream about some gorgeous man romancing her on a sunlit beach.

Once their plane had finally taxied out and taken off, James wasted no time ordering drinks and his mood improved. Charlotte relaxed and began to think of what they would do on this honeymoon. She wanted to do the shops and the sights in Rome and then they had a week booked in a gorgeous cliff top hotel on the Amalfi coast. Their accommodation in Rome was a regular city centre hotel but the honeymoon suite in the second hotel offered a private balcony with a small dipping pool and a large Jacuzzi suite in the bathroom. The money for the holiday had been given by James’s father directly to Charlotte along with a small note which read “Have a fabulous honeymoon and I hope you make a man out of my son. He has too much money for his own good from the family trust and I am afraid that since his Mother died he has lacked guidance from a female and has turned into a bit of a chauvinist. You are a charming girl and I look forward to having a wonderful new daughter.” The amount of money given to her was more than enough for the honeymoon Charlotte so desired and she had splurged the rest on her clothes and accessories, hoping that James would appreciate his well dressed bride and show her off in fashionable Italy.

The flight was uneventful and after collecting their bags they were soon in a taxi heading into the city. James became excited and talkative as they approached the centre and drove past ancient statues and monuments that they had only previously seen in photographs. Noisy, horn beeping traffic and the bustling pedestrians only added to their sense of excitement and Charlotte began to get a real thrill that her honeymoon had finally started.  The taxi pulled up at the Hotel Julia on Via Rasella and she was pleased to see that whilst the hotel was small, it was well placed in the centre of the city and ideal for sightseeing.

Once inside their large room the pair emptied their suitcases and set off to explore the nearby streets and find something to eat.  After an hour of walking they searched out a restaurant and sat at a table in the warm afternoon sun. Even though it was 3 o’clock the bistro was still buzzing with customers and Charlotte felt that the day was still young. They ordered hesitantly, unable to converse in Italian, but the waiter did not make them feel uncomfortable and guided them towards the specialities of the house. James asked for beer and then another one, when their antipasto arrived. They chatted about their plans and what they would do in the week. Charlotte was hoping for some afternoon delight once they had returned to their room and was dismayed when James ordered a bottle of red wine with their main course. She thought about making a comment that it was still early in the day for drinking but held off in case she burst the happy bubble of the convivial surroundings. She sipped at the wine and mainly drank the sparkling water and she hoped that James would do the same. At the end of the meal however, when the Chianti bottle was empty, James had become louder in his conversation and she knew that he was more than a little tipsy.

As they strolled back to the hotel Charlotte stopped to window shop and wanted to go inside one or two stores, but James kept muttering about not having come all this way to shop so she gave in. In the lift up to their floor of the hotel he made some playful grabs at her skirt and tried to kiss her. She became a little frosty and pushed him away telling him to wait and he made a spoilt boy face. Inside the room Charlotte closed the curtains and turned to see her husband pulling off his clothes and once he was free of his trousers he turned his attention to her dress. She brushed him off  when it became obvious that he was making a hash of the zip and removed it herself. When they were naked on the bed James came inside her quickly and the whole thing was over in a few seconds. For all that she had gotten out of the act of lovemaking, Charlotte might as well not have been there. James kissed her one more time and then rolled off her body and promptly fell asleep.

Lying there staring at the ceiling Charlotte seethed with anger and frustration. She passed her fingers between her legs but could not find the desire to do anything. After a few moments she got up and showered and then got dressed in some fresh clothes. Leaving a note which simply said “gone out for a walk” she took the room key and her handbag and left the hotel. In tune with her sense of gloom she noticed that the weather had turned grey and there were ominous afternoon rainclouds gathering. She started to walk slowly in any direction her feet took her  and followed the narrow streets away from the main shopping streets. Turning down a perfectly ordinary passageway beside the walls of a church she suddenly found herself in a narrow square with the most enormous sculpture opening up to her left. The rain had started to fall but, other than making her shiver with a chill through her thin dress, she did not really notice the water drops as she gazed in awe at the details of the Trevi Fountain

Walking slowly through the clutch of people at the edge of the fountain she tried to take in each detail but it was just too large, too grandiose. Charlotte edged towards the lip of the water and began to search in her purse for a coin. As she stood there wondering what to wish for Charlotte was suddenly overcome with a sadness that she was seeing this beautiful statue on her own and not with her husband. The rain started to come down harder and the crowd of people began to thin out as they sought shelter.

Suddenly the emotion of the last couple of days welled up inside Charlotte’s chest and she started to cry. She stood hunched her shoulders in the rain, her arm outstretched over the fountain edge, clutching a small coin whilst the salty tears ran down her cheeks. A moment later the heavy raindrops suddenly ceased as a large  umbrella passed over her head.

“You are far too pretty to be crying,” said a voice from behind. “What on earth is wrong?”

Charlotte half turned and saw the smiling face of an attractive woman in her mid thirties, smartly dressed and holding out the big blue umbrella over both of them.

“Oh, you’re American.” Charlotte said in surprise.

“Well yes. Is that a problem? I thought umbrellas were sort of international.”

“No, I mean yes, well thanks. Oh god, I must look such a mess.” Charlotte stammered in her confusion.

“Listen, you could do with getting out of the rain. Why don’t we go over to that café and you can dry off?”  The American lady pointed down one of the three narrow streets leading away from the fountain and took Charlotte's hand so that she could hold the umbrella between the two of them. She set off at a brisk walk and Charlotte really felt she had no option but to walk with her. It was almost as if this stranger was exercising some sort of control on her.

Inside the warm café they found one of the last vacant tables and Charlotte went off to the bathroom to tidy up. When she came back there was already a steaming cappuccino and a cake laid out at her place and her rescuer waved her hand to indicate that she should sit down.

“I’m Dana by the way,” the women said as Charlotte eased herself into the small space.

“Oh, right, gosh, yes and I’m Charlotte but please call me Lottie” Charlotte paused and then remembered her manners.

 “Thank you so much for the coffee. This place is wonderful, so Italian”

“Make a start on it whilst it is hot Lottie and you can tell me why you were crying”
Dana smiled sympathetically and sat back in her chair.

Charlotte straightened her hair and wondered where to begin. She could feel the tears start to well up again and her voice croaked a little. She took a sip of her hot drink and began at the beginning.

The story of her courtship with James and all the romance of the last year came spilling out. Dana simply had to nod her head occasionally and make the odd supportive comment. Charlotte described the weekend that the marriage proposal had been made and then the dashing around to make the wedding arrangements in just a few months. When Dana asked her about husband and what he was like, Lottie went into some detail about how Jamie’s mother had died when he was in his teens and how his wealthy father had brought him up with the help of domestic staff and his  father’s sister and then a boarding school. After pausing to drink more coffee and eat the cake she started on the tale of the wedding day and the disastrous start to the honeymoon.

“So that’s it.” Charlotte said after twenty minutes or so of quiet monologue. “You know everything about me now, but there is one more thing I haven’t told you.”

“Which is what? “ Dana asked.

“I am scared that I have made the wrong decision and that I should never have got married !”

Dana passed her hand over the table and gripped Charlotte’s fingers tightly.

“One question for you, or maybe two. Do you love your husband?”

“Yes I love him. I thought he was Mr Right from the beginning but I am not so sure now”

“And do you think he loves you” Dana added.

Charlotte thought for a moment and then nodded.

“Yes I do, but I think he loves other things as well and he is finding it hard to focus all his attention on me.”

“OK fair enough.” Dana looked into the younger girl’s face and gave her hand an encouraging squeeze. “You can deal with this, Lottie. We just have to think things through”

Lottie raised her head. “We, how do you mean we? I hardly know you and even now I feel bad for telling you all my troubles. I mean I don’t usually go around giving my life story to strangers.”

“OK, OK. That’s good. That’s your assertive side coming out. Maybe we should see more of that. Next question. Tell me Lottie, have you ever been spanked?”

Charlotte looked astonished and wondered what this woman was all about.

“Spanked? What has that got to do with anything?”

“ I’ll explain in a moment. Have you heard of the Peter Pan syndrome, where a man is really a child looking for some attention?”

Charlotte shook her head. This was all a puzzle to her and she began to wonder what she was doing listening to this woman.


“What I am driving at Lottie, is that I think your James is looking for guidance. He knows he is doing things that irritate people and in a way he has not yet matured enough to be your equal in the marriage.”

“So how do you know all this?” Charlotte asked, realising that what was being said suddenly made a lot of sense.

“Well, I do a bit of psychology in my job and I have come across men like your husband before. Once you know which buttons to press it is remarkable how quickly you can sort the problem out. Of course I may be wrong about your husband but from everything you describe I think he could be taught to improve his behaviour.”

“OK, I’m listening, but what about the spanking. Why did you ask me that?”

“Were you ever spanked as a child?” Dana asked

“Yes, a few times, though not very often.”

“And what were you spanked for?”

“Well it was a punishment or a warning not to do something again”.

“And has James tried to spank you?”

“A few times, I guess. I don’t like him doing it because it hurts.”

“ I think that what he is trying to do is show you that he wants to be spanked in return and that smacking you is his way of introducing the idea of discipline into your relationship.”

“But why for heaven’s sake ?” Charlotte asked in frustration. She had never thought about marriage and discipline. It was supposed to be love and marriage.

“Because, I think he was probably spanked by his Mother. If he was the only child she possibly kept him very close to her and gave him treats when he was well behaved and scolded him when he was bad. When she was no longer in his life he found he could do exactly what he wanted without anyone setting boundaries. The people he associated with would have felt sorry for him, losing his Mother early on, so they probably went of their way to please him.”

“So you think he wants a Mother and not a wife? Is that what you are saying?”

Charlotte was getting a little indignant at Dana’s intervention in her day. She hoped that she had married a man not a boy.

“It is not as black and white as that, honey. Human beings are complex creatures. We all have our hidden side, things that we don’t share easily with other people. I am only offering an opinion. I should maybe go and leave you to finish your coffee.”

Dana stood up and then paused as Charlotte grasped her wrist.

“No, please I am sorry. Sit down again. I think I need your help. What do you think I should do if what you are saying is true?”

Resuming her seat Dana called a waiter over.

Cameriere, due bicchieri di vino bianco per favore”  Charlotte was impressed with both her fluent italian and the air of superiority that Dana exuded.

Turning to Charlotte she smiled and said “I think we both need something stronger than coffee. It will help us relax.”

Dana started to talk and Lottie listened carefully. For a quarter of an hour Dana explained precisely what steps the bride should take to establish her husbands true nature and when she had finished Lottie was flushed with excitement at the prospect.
She agreed that she would try out the plan they had devised that evening and meet again the next day.

“So what are you doing here in Rome?” Charlotte asked as they finished the last of their wine and prepared to leave the café.

“I am just on holiday like you. I come here every year for 3 weeks. I simply adore the place and the shopping is wonderful. The Italian men are an added bonus.”

“You are so lucky to get so much time off your work.” Charlotte commented.

“Well that is one of the advantages of being freelance,” Dana smiled at her new friend. “One day I will tell you how it works and what line of business I am in.”

They walked towards the hotel chatting and laughing conspiratorially and found the Via del Tritone. They stopped outside a small chic restaurant and Dana made a reservation for dinner and then they walked on to a large Farmacia which Dana sometimes used. Charlotte was entranced by the lovely cool atmosphere of the Italian chemist shop which was so different to the ones in England. There were gorgeous counters of cosmetics and creams but the item that Dana was looking for was more prosaic. She pointed out a paddle hairbrush to Charlotte and told her that this would be an excellent purchase. Although it was not made of wood, it was a good size and made of a very dense type of plastic. It was also a nice shade of blue. Charlotte picked it up from the rack and went to pay at the counter, resisting the impulsive urge to buy some make up.
Outside the shop they parted company, kissing on both cheeks and laughing as though they were sisters.

Back at the hotel James was awake and sat in his underpants watching a TV channel in a language he could not understand. He quizzed Charlotte about where she had been but she cold shouldered him and told him to shower now and get dressed because she wanted the bathroom to herself for an hour or more.

“I have booked a table for dinner.” Charlotte said in a cross voice. “We need to be there at 8 so I hope you will be looking more presentable than you do now.”

When he came out of the bathroom Charlotte stepped straight in and told James she would see him downstairs in the lobby at a quarter to eight.

“What will I do until then?” James asked.

“Well it is Rome after all. “ Charlotte pointed out. “I am sure you can amuse yourself for a couple of hours. Just don’t be late.”

Lying back in the hot bubble bath Charlotte day-dreamed about how her day had unfolded and what the evening might bring. She suddenly felt tired from all the travel and excitement of her wedding. Allowing her hand to wander she came in contact with the warm space between her legs and started to rub with her outstretched fingers. Within a few minutes she had come to orgasm and she played a couple more times before telling herself to stop. It was a pleasure to be on her own for once and she took full advantage of her personal quiet time.

Later, when Charlotte was dressing she pulled out the hairbrush from her bag and used it to straighten her damp hair whilst using the dryer. When she replaced it on the dresser she experienced a thrill as she imagined the next time she would be holding it in her hands.  She rescued the silk lingerie from its place at the back of the drawer and dressed in a leisurely fashion, enjoying the soft touch of her silk summer dress as she pulled it over her head. The dress was a plain yellow in colour and with the Centurion style of sandals and her hair tied back she thought that she looked suitably stylish and a little bit severe.

In the bar downstairs Charlotte slipped onto the stool next to James and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

“Shall we go?” she enquired with a coquettish tilt of her head.

“Let me just finish this.” James said and proceeded to down his glass of beer in one go.

It was only a short walk to the restaurant and they were shown to a table for two against the wall. James looked around as he sat down and spotted an attractive dark haired  woman on the table next to them. She did not look up from reading her book and James figured she was on her own, maybe some sort of executive here on business.

The manner in which they were seated meant that the woman was not in James vision whilst Charlotte was able to see her over his shoulder. The waiter moved in swiftly with bread sticks and Charlotte ordered a glass of wine and James another beer. They conversed happily and chose from the menu, again with the help of the waiter. As their main course arrived James asked for a bottle of red wine and Charlotte looked across at the woman opposite. She received a nod of recognition and support.

“Don’t have a bottle, darling” Charlotte said in a clear firm voice. “Just stick with the water or maybe have just a glass.”

“Of course I want a bottle. We are only half way through our meal.” James responded.

“I would rather you didn’t. Please do what I ask.” Charlotte spoke firmly and glanced across at the dark haired woman again, as she felt needed some moral support at this stage.

“What is all this about?” James asked angrily. “I’m not drunk you know.”

“No you’re not darling and I would rather you stay that way.” Charlotte sat up a little straighter and took a deep breath.

“I am telling you not to order a bottle James and you had better do what I say”

She was surprised at herself and looking over again at the woman on the next table she was pleased to see her mouth the word “bravo” and clap her hands together silently.

The waiter who had been standing patiently by during this altercation and who obviously understood what was being said, looked first at Charlotte and then at James.

“Bring me a bottle of red wine.” James demanded.

As the waiter walked away Charlotte stared at her husband with eyes narrowed. She thought carefully about the next step.

“James I think you ought to know that if you want to stay married to me then you are going to have to change your behaviour. I do not want a bore and slob as a husband.”

He glared at her rather insolently and drank off his beer.

The mood of the evening had changed and as they ate their main course in silence James kept taking large gulps of the red wine, almost as if he was proving a point.

After they had finished their main course James went off to the bathroom and Charlotte went over to talk to the woman.

“You are doing well” said Dana laughing. “ It’s like having a fish on the line. You are nearly ready to reel him in”

“I know. I’m beginning to enjoy this.”

They chatted a bit more and then when Charlotte saw James coming back she saidgoodbye and nice to meet you to the rather striking, single lady and went back to her own table.

“What was that all about?” James asked in a perfunctory manner as he sat down.

“Oh, nothing really. I noticed she had dropped her purse on the floor so I went to tell her. She is heron holiday on her own. Maybe I  should have done the same”

“Look Lottie, we can’t sit here not speaking. I am sorry if I upset you about the wine”

So, just as Dana had predicted he might , James had made the first move and was giving the smallest of apologies.

Charlotte kept an impassive face and told her husband that it wasn’t just the argument abut the wine. She was fed up with the way he had treated her for the last two or three days.

“I mean it James. Unless you change your attitude I can’t see our marriage lasting a week, never mind a lifetime. Sometimes I think you need a good spanking to sort your ideas out.”

There. It was out. She had said the S word.

Charlotte cast her eyes over to Dana who was grinning and nodding her head and then she looked back at James who was staring at her a little wide eyed.

“Yes, you heard me correctly James. A spanking on your bottom would do you the world of good and I might have to thrash you with a cane if that didn’t work. I have had it with your spoilt brat behaviour.”

She glared at James and wagged her finger at him. All of a sudden she knew that she was the one in control and she sat back waiting for a reaction.

“Maybe you should,” James muttered.


"Should what?"


"You know, spank me."

“Well if I did spank you it would not be for fun young man, so don’t think that.”

Charlotte was gaining in confidence now and she waved at the waiter to call for the bill. It looked as though Dana had been right all along and now she wanted to keep up the momentum and leave the restaurant quickly.

When James had settled the bill, Charlotte took him by the arm and made him follow her out on to the street. As she left she gave a broad wink at Dana. They had agreed to meet tomorrow afternoon and if things carried on as they were at the moment there would be a lot to talk about.

It was all part of the plan that the restaurant would not be far from the hotel so it was only a few minutes until they were in the spacious room. The curtains were drawn and the bed turned down so the next item on the agenda could begin immediately.


"Sit on the chair James and wait." Charlotte instructed. "I will be back in a moment."


When she came out of the bathroom, wearing her lingerie, she told her husband to get up.

Charlotte picked up the hairbrush from the dresser and sat down on the bed and told James to stand up and come over to the side of her.Placing the hairbrush on her lap, where her naked slim thighs showed above the stocking tops, Charlotte reached out with both hands to undo the belt around James’ waist and unzip his trousers, which promptly fell around his ankles.

With another quick movement Charlotte’s deft hands yanked down his shorts causing James some discomfort as the elastic waist band caught on his erect penis.


“You had better keep control of this,” Charlotte warned, tapping his erection with her finger. “I don’t want you coming this evening until I tell you, if at all. Now strip off your shoes, socks and shirt.”

Grasping his wrist Charlotte pulled her husband over her knee and lifted up his shirt tail. When she had moved him around a little, so as to get him in the correct position, she admired his lovely tight bare bottom and resisted the urge to rub her hand across it. She was not in the business of pleasuring him right now.


“Right, you know what this is about James?”.

“Yes Lottie” James agreed in a quiet voice

“I am going to give you such a spanking with this hairbrush, that you won’t believe. From now on there is only one person in this marriage who says what goes, and that is me. Is that understood?”

Charlotte tapped his bottom with the back of the hairbrush a few times to reinforce the point.

“Yes Lottie. Please don’t spank me hard.  I won’t drink too much any more, I promise” 
With his head near the floor, James  looked back at her over his shoulder as he pleaded.

“Oh, it’s not just the drink young man, it’s the whole behaviour thing. I am going to make you into a husband worth having. Someone who will be a credit to me. Now stay still and be quiet.”

The brush cracked against the white skin and the redness from the smack spread quickly. Charlotte did not stop and the spanks came thick and fast. Neither of them was counting and indeed, if they had been, they would not have kept up with the rate of spanks. Charlotte became possessed of a new found energy as she smacked the brush across every inch of James bottom. As he started to feel the heat James kicked his legs from one side to the other, attempting to slide off Lottie’s lap. She warned him to take his punishment and delivered a few crisp spanks to the backs of his legs. The seconds passed into minutes and still she kept on going. The pinkness in the skin had started to pass into a dark red and then in places a purplish colour. She thought she heard him sob a little as he begged her to stop but this only made her more angry. Charlotte did not want a cry baby as a partner so there was to be no let up on her part.


After many minutes she decided that the lesson had been given and she paused. James lay over her lap gulping a sob every now and again and shaking his body from side to side.

“Get up.”

James practically fell sideways off her knees and struggled to his feet. Charlotte looked up at him and narrowed her eyes.

“Shall I stop? Have you learned your lesson.” She quizzed him.

“Yes, yes.  I am sorry I messed up. I will be good I promise.”

It was just as Dana had predicted. James was behaving like a small boy who had been found out and he was promising that everything would be better. Only time would tell, Charlotte thought to herself, but she knew that there would be many more spankings in the future before she had straightened him out.


“Go and stand in the corner and keep your nose into the wall. I am going to have a shower and then you can show me how much better behaved you can be.”

As Charlotte walked over to the bathroom she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror still carrying the hairbrush in her hand. She paused and looked back at her husbands glowing rear end as he shuffled into the naughty corner. Yes, she thought, as she tapped the back of the brush against her open palm, things could only get better on this honeymoon.

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Grateful thanks to Banjo and Ms Dana Kane for their consent to use the images above.













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Monday, 3 October 2011

The Look


I am guessing that a few of my male readers will be familiar with “The Look”. It is that flash of the eyes from your female partner which can cross a room at the speed of light and go straight into your own eyes. It can be transmitted going unnoticed by anyone else in the room. It means simply, “stop what you are doing right now and I will talk to you later”.

I received “The Look” at a party yesterday afternoon. It was a hastily arranged barbecue at a friend’s house, to take advantage of the sunny weather we have been having this September. I had had a few drinks and I was flirting with a charming woman, whom I had engaged in conversation in a corner of the garden. She explained that she and her husband were new to the neighbourhood and I found it a lot more interesting to chat to her, than to talk to the same old faces of friends and acquaintances.

My mistake was spending too long in her company.

The meaning of that look from my wife, when I saw it, was unmistakeable so I decided to make some excuse about getting another drink from the bar. Standing close to us was an old friend so I made an introduction to the woman and began to move away.

 I looked across at my wife and she mouthed the word “later” with a stern frown on her face.  An hour or so later, when I was in the queue for BBQ food, I saw my wife in deep conversation with the newcomer, laughing and joking about something.

In the car on the way home my wife asked if I had enjoyed my chat with the new person, but she asked it in that sarcastic tone with which many of us will be familiar.

 I said, yes.

You seemed to be very entertaining, said my wife. Certainly  Caroline seemed to think so. 

I replied that I was just being friendly.

We spent the rest of the trip home in silence, not icy but certainly not chatty. 

Once in the house I was told to go and strip off my clothes and put myself in the corner of our bedroom. I did so with a heavy heart as I sensed my wife was in a seriously bad mood. I was a little sweaty and sticky so I showered and then went to stand facing the wall. I stood there naked staring at the pattern on the wallpaper. I could hear my wife doing things in the kitchen moving around. When she entered the bedroom I heard the click of the telephone and she sat down to make a call. For  what seemed an age she spoke to her mother and then to her sister on one of her weekly chat calls. I heard her tell every little detail about the BBQ and the week ahead.  As she finished the call to her sister she said that she had to go and sort out something that had been bothering her. As of now I don’t believe she has mentioned our spanking arrangements to  her sister, but she keeps threatening to do so as she thinks her brother-in-law needs to be taken down a peg or two and that he would benefit from a sound thrashing.

After about forty five minutes of telephone chat my wife came up to stand behind me. She whispered in my ear that she would love to tell my new friend Caroline how she deals with naughty boys, by making them stand in the corner.

 Maybe, she said, maybe since I liked talking to Caroline so much I should ring her and tell her myself.

 Moving closer she passed her hand round in front of me and grasped my stiffening prick. As she rubbed me up and down, she asked me if I thought that was good idea.

No ma’am I replied.

Just as I thought I could not control myself any more the hand was removed and I stood trying not to release.

Well naughty boy, go and write Flirting, 30 strokes, paddle in the punishment book and then come back here and do something useful with this. She tapped my prick and balls with the tips of her fingers.


Saturday, 1 October 2011

Stupid mistake

My wife was home before me last Thursday night and was luxuriating in the bath when I got upstairs. She had booked a table at a restaurant she said and I was to leave her in peace for another hour or so. I got no vibes about the Maintenance Spanking, which was overdue, but I knew better than to ask about it. I closed the door and went back downstairs to the study. After a bit of time spent on e mails I decided to take a shower in the guest bathroom so that I would be ready to go out. I was stood under the water daydreaming when she appeared at the door and demanded to know why I wasn’t waiting for her in the bedroom. She told me that I had thirty seconds to fetch some implements and get over the bench.

I dried myself hurriedly and grabbed what I could find from the chest where the spanking toys are kept. My wife was counting out the seconds, eighty one, eighty two, eighty three, as I placed the instruments neatly on the bed and then lowered myself over the top of the bench. Picking up the riding crop and swishing it through the air behind me, she demanded to know why I had not followed her instructions. I said that I did not know about any instructions, at which point she struck me hard across both cheeks.

I left you a note in the kitchen she said. Stand up and go and get it.

I moved quickly and was back in the bedroom as she counted out one hundred and ten, one hundred and eleven.

 What does it say ?, she demanded, smacking the front of my legs with the tab of the crop.

“Bring me a glass of wine and wait for me in the corner.”  I read out the note. And looked across at her, adding that  I was sorry but I hadn’t seen it.

Obviously, she replied. Well there’s no time now so you have missed your chance so put all this stuff away and go and get dressed.

Over dinner my wife described what nice little spanking and sex treats she had planned for the early part of the evening and how it was just too bad that, because my inattention to her, these rewards had been taken away.

When we got home I was told to fetch the Punishment Book and write in the words Disobedient, Fifty strokes, Cane.

I went to sleep, wondering how much time might go by before the book was called for and cursing myself for not looking in the kitchen that evening. If I had done I might have had a glowing bottom and some entertaining sex. As It was all I had now was silent , sleeping wife and a redundant erection which I could not touch.