Happy 4th July

I hope my American readers have a good holiday and that you see some fireworks, outside or inside the home.

Random thoughts

The grey cloud in his mind was lifting slowly,
as the ceiling rope tightened and he stretched up on his toes.
Her darting movements behind gave  notice of
the crack of the whip and the flash of heat.
The kiss of the whip left a ladder of stripes
easily ascended, step by step, to his nirvana.

Back on the ground, the clamp of the humbler
and the slap of palm on ball left a squirming pain.
Crouched and unable to run from the consequences
the white fluffy clouds of his heaven grew darker,
Yet, still he craved the birch that  would deliver calm
in the azure blue open skies.
.

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Word of the day

A reader introduced me to the word Algolagnia 
- sexual pleasure derived from enduring or inflicting pain, as in masochism or sadism.

I had not come across this word before but now when I am getting my scrotum whipped with  leather thongs, I will be able to close my eyes and just keeping repeating "algolagnia, algolagnia, algolagnia" to myself each time a stroke lands.

 It is good to have a focus word to help reach the sub-zone that much quicker.

Sunday session

I was up early on Sunday and made a nice breakfast for the two of us. We decided to get the chores done quickly so we could go out (in the rain of course - this is England after all) in the afternoon. 

My wife S sorted paperwork and I did the ironing. She called me into her bedroom whilst she was getting dressed and whilst I was kneeling in front of her she made me recount what I was going to be punished for later that day. I reminded her of the 20 strokes for being late, added the fact that I had had an alcoholic drink she didn't know about during a non- drinking weekday and that I had not been very amiable whilst on a trip to some shops with her.

 I thought I might tell her about the knicker wearing on the day before, but stayed silent on that one.

S  contributed to the tally by reminding me that she had to tell me twice to phone a builder about a quote. In all she said that I could expect 40 strokes of the cane and possibly more if I made a fuss. She pulled up my face by hooking a finger under my chin. Understood she asked. Yes, I replied.

We had a fun day out in the end because the rain stopped and a walk by the river was followed by a late pub lunch. Once we were home I was sent to fetch the cane and wait  in the bedroom. I stripped to my pants and stood there for what seemed like an age.

I heard the door click shut  and then the swish of the cane two or three times behind me. Telling me to bend forward with my hands on my knees and count the strokes, my wife came up beside me and ran the cane teasingly up and down the backs of my legs and over my pants.

The first whiz and whack of a cane stroke  came as a shock to my unprepared mind and bottom and I forgot to count. 

Then the next one hit me and I remembered to say, two thank you ma'am. The  strokes followed quickly and it was impossible to repeat the counting mantra in  time between the strokes. 

She demanded to know if I was incapable of counting but did not pause and  gave me no chance to reply. I made a a guess at eight but failed to utterly  to get the thank you ma'am part of the phrase spoken out before the next two strokes had landed. I could not keep up so I resolved just to shout out the strokes. I erred  on the side of caution so I said 10 when it was almost certainly more. From that point on I just focussed on taking the pain and growing erotic feeling of being whipped.

At what I thought was twenty I found the caning hard going. My wife was using more force than she might have done in past years. I began to wonder if I had done the right thing asking her to take control once again. Her aim was better than in the past and the cane was not zipping round my flank like i used to.Had she been practising I wondered?

I stiffened my resolve and took 10 more strokes with a steady count but I have to say I lost my way after that and I was unable to keep up. Your not doing very well at counting are you, she asked. Maybe these will jog your memory. She placed 5 strokes rapidly across the back of my legs and i jumped up to a standing position to rub and protest. Get back down she growled.

30, I muttered. Well I think its more but I am happy to oblige if you want extra. Stay still.

I counted slowly as the cane landed in a measured pace. At my 40, she stopped. My bottom was raw with pain but my mind was in a happy place. She was undoubtedly getting stricter with the cane.

S went off to shower whilst leaving me to sort out a supper. We watched an episode of Orange is the New Black and then went to bed. As we lay side by side she asked me how I felt. Great I replied and thanked her for the whipping. Well show your gratitude in the usual way then, she demanded, as she threw off the bedclothes. I muff dived with pleasure.

Gentle FM - a couple of spanking videos

Just a couple of nice short videos today.


and this one  

  Have a good week. I will get on with some work and some blog writing

Anticipation

There is something intriguing about TTWD. Here I am early on a Sunday morning, blogging whilst my wife sleeps, knowing that later today I will be caned. Why should I be excited by the prospect of having my bare bottom laced with a long length of supple rattan cane? Why am I also nervous about the prospect? Why have I got an erection just thinking about having my pants pulled down and being told to bend over? Who knows.

Saturday chores

I was late home last night and had forgotten we were due to go out. Result  and award of 20 strokes with the cane, to be delivered on Sunday and a full clean of the main bedroom to be done today.


This involves moving the furniture to clean and a full stripping and hoovering of the bed. I am half way through this task and have broken off for a coffee. 

My wife S is out at the shops and it is warm weather  so I  am wearing only a pair of her knickers. I was not told that I should wear these black panties and I  am I half- hoping I will be found out.







The dinner out with friends last night was quite good and I behaved myself impeccably so I may get a few maintenance swats with the nice paddle.

Must return to my duties now. Enjoy the weekend.

Summer arriving maybe

A short summer might just have started. It is getting sunnier and warmer here in the UK .

Dresses are getting shorter.

Hats are required in order to keep cool

Getting dressed to go shopping takes less time 

Swimwear is quicker to dry

Light taps before bed are more frequent when someone has imbibed too much.

And holiday spankings get  that little bit harder harder, for those men who gaze at girls on the beach from behind their sunglasses.

Two get back on the bike - Part 4

That evening in Glasgow ended well and as we drove home the next day we were both in a glow of happiness. That part of Scotland is known for its damp weather but there was nothing gloomy in our relationship that night. After a heavy session of cunnilingus and a good thrashing for me we were both on top of the world. 

We had a few drinks too many with my wife's   friend and her husband and the tipsiness had translated into every type of oral sex back in the hotel room. I had licked and kissed my way from her bottom ring to her clit and I spent over fifteen minutes down there. S congratulated me on my performance after she had orgasmed happily, three or four times. 

The discussion in the car ranged from how she had enjoyed seeing her friend, to what we were going to do to keep up the momentum of our sex life and which disciplinary measures would be in force from now on.

After stopping for a coffee at the scenic motorway station near the Lake District on the M6 motorway my wife fell asleep and did not wake until we were only a few miles from home.

As I carried the bags into the house S made one or two comments about how nice it was to have a well behaved man in the house.

It looks as though we are back in the groove one more time and my wife has control.

Two get back on the bike - Part 3

That evening in  the Glasgow hotel room  our FLR was rekindled.

When I arrived at the hotel bedroom door  there was a  Do not Disturb sign on the handle so I was obliged to knock. My wife, S, opened the door and pulled me inside by my tie. The room was darkened with the curtains drawn but the summer evening gave it a glow as light spilled around  the edges of the curtain. There were 2 candles lit on the desk in the corner. I was told that she was unhappy to have received the text asking to move the time of my return and that I might regret having changed the plan. She did not like to wait, she said.




I was told to go into the bathroom and shower quickly. I reacted speedily and put my briefcase and the parcel in the open wardrobe and tore off my clothes before shaving and washing in a hurry. When I was towelling myself dry, S threw in a pair of clean pants and told me to get into the bedroom sharpish.







She was sitting on the edge of the bed with a dressing gown on and holding the rigid plastic tube in her hands.

 "Was this the best you could do?, she asked. I expected you to bring home a tawse or something since we are in Scotland or a decent cane and what is the umbrella all about?"

"Yes ma'am, sorry ma'am," I replied "it will hurt I assure you and I am sorry I could not find something more conventional but there was not a lot of time. The umbrella is a gift for you Ma'am and it was the only way I could hide the rod when I was at work."

"Enough of the excuses." she said in a cross tone. I squirmed at her anger and the butterflies raced around in my stomach.

"Well, we haven't got much time," she continued, "We are meeting Lianne and her husband at 8 for dinner and I want you on your best behaviour."

She held up a hairbrush, which I had not seen was lying on the bed by her left hand side.

"If you had got home in time I was going to give you a spanking to warm you up but that will have to wait. Get the chair and bend over the back of it."


 I watched as she picked up the plastic tube and whizzed it through the air onto the top of the mattress beside her. It made an ominous thwack and I began to wish she would just give a hairbrush spanking and that I could put the rod back in its wrapping.

I pulled the desk chair over to the open space between the bed and the window and turned it parallel to the bed and then raised my hips to go over the backrest. It was not very comfortable and my legs were stretched, trying to lever myself further forward, so that my penis was not squashed against the chair.

When I was in position S began to scold me about my attitude and behaviour and that since the last year she had been fed up living with me. She asked me what might change that?

"Regular whipping Ma'am," I replied. "I need it badly and if you would get back to disciplining me I am sure I could become a better husband."

"Well you've got me riled up enough to give it a try. Stay in position whilst we see how this gets your attention."

She whacked the plastic tube down across my pants and I yelped with the pain. It was really very sore and certainly on a par with a sturdy cane. The strokes came thick and fast, up and down my bottom, whilst I wiggled like a schoolboy and not the experienced submissive that I am. The pain on a cold bottom was intense and I hadn't had a spanking session for so long I had forgotten how to control myself.

At 10 strokes I was asking her to stop, particularly to stop the smacks across the backs of my kegs.

"I have no intention of stopping until I get to at least 50 so just take it and be quiet."

I whimpered as the caning continued and then, gradually, I began to absorb the pain and my brain reacted to the flow of endorphins. At around 20 strokes I was starting to enter the zone where the strokes themselves did not hurt and the feeling of submission took over.


 I began to imagine how S must look, wielding the cane behind me and truly dominating me once again. When I started to moan with pleasure and rub myself against the chair she stopped the beating..

"Ate you getting off on this?"

"Yes Ma'am."

"Well that will have to stop. I obviously need to cane harder." She yanked my pants down in order to bare my bottom, but did it roughly and not in that slow sensual fashion that I find so exciting.

"Yes ma'am." I helped the removal of the pants by lifting my hips off the chair but they still got stuck on the end of my erection.

I saw her feet take a step back and she flicked her wrist to get the rod whizzing through the air, two or three times. I flinched and pushed my toes into the carpet to brace myself.
She started to whip me without a pause, just hard strokes one after the other, each one only seconds after the other.

I lost the sub-zone and was back to feeling that I was being beaten again. The hard strokes took over my thoughts and I lifted one foot and then the other, arching my leg trying to ameliorate the pain in some way. Nothing helped and I perched there with my bottom in the air whilst she laced my bare skin. I gave up thinking she would stop and it became clear that fifty strokes would not satisfy her. After maybe seventy she slowed down and gave my lower thighs three or four final whacks.


"That's it. Now get dressed and you had better buck your ideas up. I am going the spank you again tomorrow and the day after that. You will submit to me or you will not have a marriage. Do you understand?"

"Yes ma'am. I understand ma'am. Thank you for being so understanding and patient ma'am."


I struggled to me feet and when she went to the bathroom to put on her make up I stood with my back to the wall mirror over the desk to gaze upon the purple and white blotches on my bottom. I felt incredibly satisfied. This was what I needed and I was going to show my gratitude to S for getting back to discipline therapy.





"Well get dressed boy." My wife startled me and I jumped into action. I was ready in my chinos and a shirt  in a few minutes. I helped S into her dress and zipped her up.

"Fetch my silver sandals from the suitcase." As I knelt to place them in front of her she told to me to kiss her bare feet. I knelt further onto all fours  and lowered my face to the ground to place gentle kisses on each toe. 

"So are you going to serve me slave?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Well then, be good this evening and I will let you pay your dues later. If you are very good and attentive you might get the hairbrush tomorrow."

And so it had begun. A  fresh start in our long marriage.