Here's your Friday dose of spanko fun!
One evening recently, Randy and I were discussing the intrigue of massage spanking. I read about this phenomenon on a friend’s web site. He decided we should join the fun and, as he so often does, added his own special twist.
Our daughter was safely away at a school activity. We pledged to ignore the telephone, the doorbell, the pager, and anything else short of a major earthquake. It was play time! I had endured a long, stressful week and a good, hard spanking was precisely what I needed to set my mind right. Rather than begin with the requisite smooching and caressing, Randy suggested we get naked. He didn't have to tell me twice. I was prepared for a spectacular evening in the bedroom with my husband. Frankly, I was ready for almost anything.
I suppose most people so inclined would employ the massage as a prelude to a nice, firm spanking. Randy, of course, had to arrange it the other way around. At his invitation, I willingly placed myself over his lap as he sat on the edge of the bed. I recall thinking "Oh goody! I'm getting spanked." He began to rub my bottom with the back of our dogleg hairbrush. This is a surface with which I am very familiar. Its solid wooden back is very smooth and feels cold, even while my skin is still at room temperature. "Yep", he promised "You're in for a real smart tanning tonight." He continued to rub as he described in detail the gifts I was about to receive. "I hope you have some work you can do standing up tomorrow. You sure aren't going to want to sit." By this time, I was ready to meet my fate. For once, though, I had the good sense to keep my mouth shut.
"I believe it's time to turn this poor, under-appreciated, pale backside a happy, rosy red" Randy finally decreed. With that pronouncement, my spanking began. I'd love to tell you about my slow, gradual warm-up, but there wasn't one. The first swing and all that followed were healthy and vigorous. I was so surprised by the intensity that I even momentarily contemplated invoking my safeword early on (and I virtually never use it). I held my tongue instead. I'd been waiting quite a while for this moment. I didn't want to miss out on any of it!
For those who have yet to try it, a spanking with a hairbrush is a remarkable experience. The stinging is intense as is the heat generated by the sudden impact of wood against flesh. Make no mistake, it hurts a lot, in some ways more than most paddles. But there is also a certain spiritual component to it. I found my thoughts amazingly transported away from the pain and into a sensual, sexual realm. In this place, I felt only the desire for greater intimacy.
When Randy put down the brush, I was wriggling atop his lap and moaning with longing (and yes, more than a bit of posterior discomfort too). He positioned me face down on the bed. When I heard that telltale buzzing sound, I knew he had activated my favorite sex toy. I parted my legs to welcome the toy. Rather than deliver it directly, he took the time to skillfully apply it to a favorite external site. After several minutes of this joy, Randy proceeded to insert the toy in the obvious manner. I loved it! How could this feeling get any better? I was about to learn.
Randy began to massage my entire body. He started with my temples and worked slowly southward. He paid special attention to my neck since I often store tension there. My back was next. He began lightly using just fingertips. Gradually, he increased the depth of his rubbing by using first his fingers and then his palms. These were knowing hands, learned in the ways of a woman's pleasure.
The feeling was truly a strange juxtaposition. The relaxation his hands were producing throughout the upper half of my body provided a stark contrast to the tingling excitement left by the brush and, more immediately, the buzzing within. As soon as Randy's interest wandered below my waist, the focus changed. He began first rubbing and then lightly slapping my glowing, crimson cheeks. My breathing was reduced to an anxious pant. Now, there was only one way to completely satisfy me. Fortunately, Randy had the same idea. He raised my hips and removed the toy (for a change, he remembered to turn it off!). He replaced it with my all time favorite. I was dizzy with excitement. Two passions merged into a symbiotic renewal of love's promise. Fulfillment was ours.
Sometimes I don't realize how hard he spanks me until later. This was one such occasion. True to Randy's forecast, sitting the following day was quite an adventure. But, looking back, I am grateful for every resonant word, every scorching swat, every tender caress, and every precious moment. Though I wouldn't have wanted any more, I surely couldn't have been satisfied with any less. Stress, what stress?
Keywords: spanking, massage spanking, spanking stories
Friday, September 30, 2005
Thursday, September 29, 2005
The Long Way
Here's another treasured memory for your reading pleasure...
My dear Prince Charming and I had planned a fine adventure for last weekend. As you probably know by now, while my plans sometimes go astray, Randy's always seem to land right on target. This weekend was no exception. In fact, my target is still a bit tender.
We had tickets to see a football game on Saturday night. Randy’s itinerary had us traveling to the destination city on the evening before the game. It's usually about a three-hour drive (depending upon the traffic, weather, and orange barrels). We wanted to have time on Saturday to help Randy's mother with some household tasks before the game.
Late Friday afternoon, as I completed our final preparations, Randy informed me that he was going to paddle me. Since we were staying with his mom, he said he didn't know when he'd get another chance (I should know better by now). With but a moment's hesitation, I marched up the stairs to the master bedroom, our usual spanking locale. He followed immediately behind me, no doubt admiring the object of his affection.
No sooner had we reached the top of the steps then Randy began wildly pealing off my clothes. I just stood there speechless (no kidding!) as my clothing was quickly separated from my body. When he ran for the toy drawer, I was left wearing nothing but two socks and my bra. He retrieved the round cutting board paddle. This thick wooden implement burns mightily as it's applied and leaves behind a relentless residual ache. I was due for a serious tail-warming.
As I walked slowly into the bedroom and toward my fate, Randy beckoned me forward. "There's no sense in postponing the inevitable. It's time for me to punish your bottom." He stood before me with the paddle in his hand, dangling at his side. He reminded me of a gunfighter ready to draw. As I was about to learn, his swing was as steady and accurate as ever.
My dear husband placed his left foot upon the corner of our bed and extended his leg. Next, he guided me down over it. I was bent forward, but still standing. He placed his left arm around my waist. I wasn't going anywhere. In this position, his right arm had more than adequate swinging room.
The whacks began almost immediately and accumulated quickly. I, quite naturally, expressed discomfort (though not necessarily displeasure). If Randy's intent was to leave me sore for the weekend, he was certain to succeed. The paddling was brief, but intense. So was the lovemaking that followed. While I would just as soon have luxuriated over both, my partner had other ideas. As soon as we finished, his focus turned to the drive ahead.
The trip was relatively uneventful. I felt the burn the entire way! At one point, Randy saw me squirm and has the audacity to inquire whether I was still sore. I just gave him a dirty look that told him that he should know the answer to that question. We arrived at Randy's mom's house in time to talk for a while before bed. On Saturday, we went out for breakfast and then attacked the day's chores.
As scheduled, we went to the football game on Saturday night. The stadium looked really nice, but our team lost. Nevertheless, we had a very good time. I can attest that the seats are every bit as uncomfortable as those in the nearby baseball stadium.
We had originally planned to return to my mother-in-law's, but decided earlier in the day to head home instead. The thought of a free Sunday was too good to pass up. Randy, rascal that he is, took a different route. Most people would just use the freeway, but Noooooooo! He just had to give us a late night tour of rural America. As you have no doubt already guessed, he found a particularly secluded spot to stop the car.
It was a misty night and the air was heavy and still. Far in the distance, I could hear the horn of a locomotive. There was no moon. All was dark. After more than twenty years with this man, I knew well what would happen next.
It was about 12:30am when Randy selected this particular patch of country. He removed our favorite hairbrush from the glove compartment and instructed me to bare my bottom. Down went my jeans, my underwear, and my resistance. He guided me right across the hood! While the cool air tickled my exposed skin, he talked for a while about what was about to transpire. He carefully enunciated each time that he said the word "spanking." Yes, that was precisely what I was about to receive. I love it when he draws it out like that.
Then, suddenly, the spanking was underway. Again, he didn't rush. If he was in any hurry to get home and go to bed, he didn't show it. He varied his delivery. He would give me a few quick, hard whacks and then pause to rub. I soon became very turned on. Eventually, he decided my color/heat/texture/dampness/panting/whatever was about right. Then down came his pants! He took me right there on the car! It was kind of rough, but I was definitely into it. For a brief moment, I almost forgot where I was. I started to get rather, um, vocal. Randy had to ask me to kindly keep it down. Just then we heard a distant dog barking. We decided to conclude our romantic interlude.
When we got back in the car, my head was spinning. Typically, Randy said he wanted to go to sleep. That wasn't an option. I asked him to drive. My poor seat just couldn't stay in one place for another two hours. We made it home and fell into bed, exhausted, but satisfied.
On Sunday, we slept in. After I had been up for a while, Randy wandered into the computer room. "Come here," he said. His voice was firm but not harsh. "Uh oh," I thought as I followed him. He sat on the couch and laid me face down across his lap. I was so surprised, I didn't even think to resist as he lifted my nightgown. Although I was situated in the classic over the knee position, he didn't spank me. Instead, he rubbed his big, rough hands all over my bottom. As his hands made contact with my skin, it triggered poignant memories of his most recent visits. After several minutes of this delightful caressing, Randy helped me up. We shared a passionate kiss and returned hand-in-hand to our marital bed.
Keywords: spanking, outdoor spanking, spanking stories
My dear Prince Charming and I had planned a fine adventure for last weekend. As you probably know by now, while my plans sometimes go astray, Randy's always seem to land right on target. This weekend was no exception. In fact, my target is still a bit tender.
We had tickets to see a football game on Saturday night. Randy’s itinerary had us traveling to the destination city on the evening before the game. It's usually about a three-hour drive (depending upon the traffic, weather, and orange barrels). We wanted to have time on Saturday to help Randy's mother with some household tasks before the game.
Late Friday afternoon, as I completed our final preparations, Randy informed me that he was going to paddle me. Since we were staying with his mom, he said he didn't know when he'd get another chance (I should know better by now). With but a moment's hesitation, I marched up the stairs to the master bedroom, our usual spanking locale. He followed immediately behind me, no doubt admiring the object of his affection.
No sooner had we reached the top of the steps then Randy began wildly pealing off my clothes. I just stood there speechless (no kidding!) as my clothing was quickly separated from my body. When he ran for the toy drawer, I was left wearing nothing but two socks and my bra. He retrieved the round cutting board paddle. This thick wooden implement burns mightily as it's applied and leaves behind a relentless residual ache. I was due for a serious tail-warming.
As I walked slowly into the bedroom and toward my fate, Randy beckoned me forward. "There's no sense in postponing the inevitable. It's time for me to punish your bottom." He stood before me with the paddle in his hand, dangling at his side. He reminded me of a gunfighter ready to draw. As I was about to learn, his swing was as steady and accurate as ever.
My dear husband placed his left foot upon the corner of our bed and extended his leg. Next, he guided me down over it. I was bent forward, but still standing. He placed his left arm around my waist. I wasn't going anywhere. In this position, his right arm had more than adequate swinging room.
The whacks began almost immediately and accumulated quickly. I, quite naturally, expressed discomfort (though not necessarily displeasure). If Randy's intent was to leave me sore for the weekend, he was certain to succeed. The paddling was brief, but intense. So was the lovemaking that followed. While I would just as soon have luxuriated over both, my partner had other ideas. As soon as we finished, his focus turned to the drive ahead.
The trip was relatively uneventful. I felt the burn the entire way! At one point, Randy saw me squirm and has the audacity to inquire whether I was still sore. I just gave him a dirty look that told him that he should know the answer to that question. We arrived at Randy's mom's house in time to talk for a while before bed. On Saturday, we went out for breakfast and then attacked the day's chores.
As scheduled, we went to the football game on Saturday night. The stadium looked really nice, but our team lost. Nevertheless, we had a very good time. I can attest that the seats are every bit as uncomfortable as those in the nearby baseball stadium.
We had originally planned to return to my mother-in-law's, but decided earlier in the day to head home instead. The thought of a free Sunday was too good to pass up. Randy, rascal that he is, took a different route. Most people would just use the freeway, but Noooooooo! He just had to give us a late night tour of rural America. As you have no doubt already guessed, he found a particularly secluded spot to stop the car.
It was a misty night and the air was heavy and still. Far in the distance, I could hear the horn of a locomotive. There was no moon. All was dark. After more than twenty years with this man, I knew well what would happen next.
It was about 12:30am when Randy selected this particular patch of country. He removed our favorite hairbrush from the glove compartment and instructed me to bare my bottom. Down went my jeans, my underwear, and my resistance. He guided me right across the hood! While the cool air tickled my exposed skin, he talked for a while about what was about to transpire. He carefully enunciated each time that he said the word "spanking." Yes, that was precisely what I was about to receive. I love it when he draws it out like that.
Then, suddenly, the spanking was underway. Again, he didn't rush. If he was in any hurry to get home and go to bed, he didn't show it. He varied his delivery. He would give me a few quick, hard whacks and then pause to rub. I soon became very turned on. Eventually, he decided my color/heat/texture/dampness/panting/whatever was about right. Then down came his pants! He took me right there on the car! It was kind of rough, but I was definitely into it. For a brief moment, I almost forgot where I was. I started to get rather, um, vocal. Randy had to ask me to kindly keep it down. Just then we heard a distant dog barking. We decided to conclude our romantic interlude.
When we got back in the car, my head was spinning. Typically, Randy said he wanted to go to sleep. That wasn't an option. I asked him to drive. My poor seat just couldn't stay in one place for another two hours. We made it home and fell into bed, exhausted, but satisfied.
On Sunday, we slept in. After I had been up for a while, Randy wandered into the computer room. "Come here," he said. His voice was firm but not harsh. "Uh oh," I thought as I followed him. He sat on the couch and laid me face down across his lap. I was so surprised, I didn't even think to resist as he lifted my nightgown. Although I was situated in the classic over the knee position, he didn't spank me. Instead, he rubbed his big, rough hands all over my bottom. As his hands made contact with my skin, it triggered poignant memories of his most recent visits. After several minutes of this delightful caressing, Randy helped me up. We shared a passionate kiss and returned hand-in-hand to our marital bed.
Keywords: spanking, outdoor spanking, spanking stories
Twenty Five Sexy Things
Here are twenty five sights, sounds, objects, thoughts, and experiences that really light my lamp.
- The palm of my lover’s hand
- Being touched lightly on the back of my neck
- A man’s white dress shirt draped over the back of a chair
- A semi-public swat on the seat
- Packaging for a new love toy at the bottom of the bedroom wastebasket
- The secret thrill of wearing a thong beneath a casual skirt
- My breasts gently cupped from behind
- My man’s hand carelessly resting on my thigh as we sit together
- Knowing glances
- Hearing the words “Assume the position”
- Butterflies in my stomach
- The sound of a leather belt being pulled through belt loops
- A kissed earlobe
- A paddle sitting on the dresser
- A planned night at home together
- Sharing a tub
- The “Do Not Disturb” sign at a hotel
- Intimate Surprises
- Code words
- The “Look” from my lover
- An unexpected embrace
- Everyday items that can be used as implements
- Wearing his shirt
- Waiting for the inevitable
- Sitting down the day after a really great spanking
Wow!
Hundreds of you good folks have made your way from places all over the world to my little blog. I think that's very cool. I hope you enjoy what you find here.
If you have a comment or suggestion, I'm listening. Just be civil, OK?
As for me, I have plenty more to share.
If you have a comment or suggestion, I'm listening. Just be civil, OK?
As for me, I have plenty more to share.
Wednesday, September 28, 2005
Birthday
It's my birthday today! Alas, cruel fate dictates that I must spend it alone this year. I'm sure we'll schedule a make-up date, but for tonight, all I have are happy memories from birthday spankings past. Here's a favorite!
Forty-One Candles (Generate a Lot of Heat)
He did it again. Randy completely surprised me last night. I actually thought I had an advantage this time because he had tipped off when my birthday spanking would happen. Not so. He took the proceedings in a direction I never could have predicted. He both respected our tradition and started a delightful new one. This morning, I'm definitely smarting, but I'm very happy and feel quite fulfilled. Here are the particulars...
Randy had instructed me to be home from my shopping trip by 4:30 in the afternoon. He was as insistent about this as I ever recall him being about anything. I wasn't certain what he was up to, but I figured it had to do with my birthday celebration. Although my birthday isn't for more than a week, he often holds the celebration early in hopes of heightening the surprise. This celebration is generally marked by repeated and forceful contact between the dreaded Mother of All Paddles (MOAP) and my bare bottom. It's by far the hardest paddling I receive all year. When I figured out that yesterday was to be the day, I was very concerned about taking one swat per year from MOAP. Nevertheless, I was determined to go through this ordeal in the name of tradition. Besides, I was itching to learn what crazy scenario Randy had arranged this time.
I arrived home just a little after 4:30 (but pretty close for me). I walked into the house filled with worries about the events to follow. Could I handle all the pain? Would he know when to quit? Would I? Might I be too tender for work on Monday? Could I be so sore that I lose interest in lovemaking (which is, of course, the whole point)?
Randy greeted me with warm hug and a soft kiss. He whispered in my ear words that generated a shiver of anticipation. "Happy Birthday, Bon. Tonight is your night. Let's enjoy it to the fullest." With that he guided me up to our bedroom. He asked me to shower and get dressed because we were going out to dinner. Now that sounded like a good time. He went downstairs while I prepared for the evening.
I was just applying the finishing touches to my makeup when the doorbell rang downstairs. I heard Randy answer the door. He had a brief conversation with someone and then the door closed again. From the bottom of the stairs my Prince Charming called, "C'mon, Bon. It's time to leave." I gathered my purse and wrap (why are restaurants always so cold?) and headed downstairs. Randy complimented me on my appearance. I had selected a little black dress about which he always raves. I took his arm ready for a night of adventure.
Instead of walking down to the basement where our garage is, we walked right out the front door. To my astonishment, there, in our driveway, sat a giant limousine. Randy grinned and said, "Our ride's here." The driver, a woman who looked to be about thirty, got out and opened the door for us. She was dressed in a uniform that appeared to be more designed for a man. She seemed very serious about her duties. Into the back we climbed.
Once we were settled, the limo pulled out and onto the road. Randy reached over and popped a cassette tape into the built-in deck. It was that spanking tape he had made! Next, he popped the cork on a bottle of champagne that was conveniently on ice nearby. He poured each of us a glass. By this time, we were flying down the freeway, apparently headed toward downtown. As soon as the champagne had begun to make me giggly and talkative (I don't drink often), Randy quickly moved to the next phase of his plan.
He operated the remote control to raise the partition between the driver and passenger compartment. Then he asked me politely if I had a tissue. When I opened my purse, I shrieked with surprise and delight. He had slipped a wooden hairbrush in there! For a moment we stared at each other. He looked at me with sly determination. I looked at him with cautious lust. Dare we? If we gave it a second thought, it was a brief one.
Moments later, I was lying over his lap across that broad bench seat. Up went the dress and slip. Down came the pantyhose and panties. At that moment, Randy paused. I lay there, bare bottom exposed, prepared to accept the hairbrush. He said, "The spanking you are about to receive is in honor of your forty-first birthday. I love you with all my spirit. This is a gift I offer to you, my beloved wife, as a tribute to your many years of loving partnership. I want you to relax and completely enjoy it."
Upon uttering the final word, the hairbrush seared my left cheek. "One" said Randy. He never counts, but he was doing it this time. I had little chance to evaluate his enunciation before a second blazing swat hit my right cheek. He delivered the full forty-one, alternating sides and counting as he went. He had that wicked wrist action working. It hurt an awful lot in a stinging sort of way. By the end, I was thrashing around in a dance of pain and lust. It was very thrilling to get spanked in such a public place. I knew no one could see through the tinted glass, but we could certainly see them.
Rather than letting me lie there and massaging my bottom (and other locations) as we normally do at a time like this, Randy lifted me up and told me we were almost to the restaurant. I did my best to fix my clothes and makeup. Sure enough, the limousine stopped in front of the door of a very fine French restaurant. This was a fancy place. The driver jumped out and opened the door. As I stepped out, she asked with a concerned look, "Are you OK?" "Yes" I answered, "I'm very happy" without a twinge of embarrassment. She then smiled for the first time and wished us a pleasant dinner.
When we entered the restaurant, the Maitre d' led us to a select table by the window. We did the whole routine - appetizer, salad, entree (I had scallops, Randy had fish), and dessert (chocolate mousse). Everything was excellent. I was uncomfortable in my seat, but it certainly didn't detract from the experience. During dinner, I asked Randy about the driver. He told me he had briefed her in advance about what would happen. He said she had trouble believing that I would willingly accept a hard spanking. He told her that if she had any doubts, she should ask me.
After dinner, we returned to the limousine. We had another glass of champagne. Then Randy informed me that the spanking wasn't over yet. I asked whether he knew something I didn't. "I am only forty-one," I said. Then he caught me on a technicality. With MOAP, both cheeks take every whack. However, with the hairbrush, one side had received only twenty and the other twenty-one. We were only half finished. Not wanting to mess up a wonderful evening (and recognizing I deserved it), I agreed.
Soon I was in the classic OTK position again. The second set hurt far more than the first. Randy smacked my sit spot over and over. I know I made a lot of racket, mostly "ow's" and "oh's." It was still better than MOAP. Finally, it was over. When I returned to my seat, I jumped as I made contact. Suddenly, I wanted to jump him. I was turned on by the first round yet managed to settle down. This time, there was going to be no turning off my desire. I started to unzip my lover. He stopped me gently and informed me we were home.
I went inside while Randy settled up with the driver. As soon as he walked in the door, I pretty much attacked him. He responded, but I could tell he wasn't quite into it. He looked me in the eyes and "Bon, aren't we forgetting something?" "No," I responded. I didn't want to hear about any more clever detours. I wanted my husband to make passionate love to me for my birthday, period. He escaped my embrace and ran up to our bedroom. Now we're talking, I thought. I followed. He went into the closet and returned carrying the MOAP. "No way," I said. "I took my birthday swats, double in fact!" Randy said only "Bend over, Bon. You still need one to grow on." My bottom really hurt, but I granted he was right.
I took the opportunity to remove my clothes. There's nothing like the sight of a naked wife to return her husband's thoughts to where they should be. I definitely distracted him, but eventually, he placed me in position to be paddled. My feet were on the floor, my elbows were on the bed, and my poor red bottom was high in the air. He tapped my bottom once with the paddle to measure his swing. Then he pulled it all the way back. BOOM! It sounded like a cannon and felt like 1000 bee stings. I hopped and rubbed in a vain attempt to stem the pain. Ouch!
At long last, we came to the part of the evening I like best. Randy helped me back onto the bed and situated me on all fours. After stimulating me with his mouth, he took me from behind. He offered a delightful mix of aggressiveness and gentleness. It took a while to satisfy my voracious sexual appetite, but my lover made it happen. When we finished, I was absolutely limp. I had spent all my emotional energy. We lay in bed and just snuggled before going to sleep. What a night!
That's my story. Looking back, I can hardly believe it all happened just last night. Then, of course, I do have a very sore derriere to remind me. This is a memory I will treasure for a long time. I wonder how he'll top this next year?
Keywords: spanking, birthday spanking, spanking stories
He did it again. Randy completely surprised me last night. I actually thought I had an advantage this time because he had tipped off when my birthday spanking would happen. Not so. He took the proceedings in a direction I never could have predicted. He both respected our tradition and started a delightful new one. This morning, I'm definitely smarting, but I'm very happy and feel quite fulfilled. Here are the particulars...
Randy had instructed me to be home from my shopping trip by 4:30 in the afternoon. He was as insistent about this as I ever recall him being about anything. I wasn't certain what he was up to, but I figured it had to do with my birthday celebration. Although my birthday isn't for more than a week, he often holds the celebration early in hopes of heightening the surprise. This celebration is generally marked by repeated and forceful contact between the dreaded Mother of All Paddles (MOAP) and my bare bottom. It's by far the hardest paddling I receive all year. When I figured out that yesterday was to be the day, I was very concerned about taking one swat per year from MOAP. Nevertheless, I was determined to go through this ordeal in the name of tradition. Besides, I was itching to learn what crazy scenario Randy had arranged this time.
I arrived home just a little after 4:30 (but pretty close for me). I walked into the house filled with worries about the events to follow. Could I handle all the pain? Would he know when to quit? Would I? Might I be too tender for work on Monday? Could I be so sore that I lose interest in lovemaking (which is, of course, the whole point)?
Randy greeted me with warm hug and a soft kiss. He whispered in my ear words that generated a shiver of anticipation. "Happy Birthday, Bon. Tonight is your night. Let's enjoy it to the fullest." With that he guided me up to our bedroom. He asked me to shower and get dressed because we were going out to dinner. Now that sounded like a good time. He went downstairs while I prepared for the evening.
I was just applying the finishing touches to my makeup when the doorbell rang downstairs. I heard Randy answer the door. He had a brief conversation with someone and then the door closed again. From the bottom of the stairs my Prince Charming called, "C'mon, Bon. It's time to leave." I gathered my purse and wrap (why are restaurants always so cold?) and headed downstairs. Randy complimented me on my appearance. I had selected a little black dress about which he always raves. I took his arm ready for a night of adventure.
Instead of walking down to the basement where our garage is, we walked right out the front door. To my astonishment, there, in our driveway, sat a giant limousine. Randy grinned and said, "Our ride's here." The driver, a woman who looked to be about thirty, got out and opened the door for us. She was dressed in a uniform that appeared to be more designed for a man. She seemed very serious about her duties. Into the back we climbed.
Once we were settled, the limo pulled out and onto the road. Randy reached over and popped a cassette tape into the built-in deck. It was that spanking tape he had made! Next, he popped the cork on a bottle of champagne that was conveniently on ice nearby. He poured each of us a glass. By this time, we were flying down the freeway, apparently headed toward downtown. As soon as the champagne had begun to make me giggly and talkative (I don't drink often), Randy quickly moved to the next phase of his plan.
He operated the remote control to raise the partition between the driver and passenger compartment. Then he asked me politely if I had a tissue. When I opened my purse, I shrieked with surprise and delight. He had slipped a wooden hairbrush in there! For a moment we stared at each other. He looked at me with sly determination. I looked at him with cautious lust. Dare we? If we gave it a second thought, it was a brief one.
Moments later, I was lying over his lap across that broad bench seat. Up went the dress and slip. Down came the pantyhose and panties. At that moment, Randy paused. I lay there, bare bottom exposed, prepared to accept the hairbrush. He said, "The spanking you are about to receive is in honor of your forty-first birthday. I love you with all my spirit. This is a gift I offer to you, my beloved wife, as a tribute to your many years of loving partnership. I want you to relax and completely enjoy it."
Upon uttering the final word, the hairbrush seared my left cheek. "One" said Randy. He never counts, but he was doing it this time. I had little chance to evaluate his enunciation before a second blazing swat hit my right cheek. He delivered the full forty-one, alternating sides and counting as he went. He had that wicked wrist action working. It hurt an awful lot in a stinging sort of way. By the end, I was thrashing around in a dance of pain and lust. It was very thrilling to get spanked in such a public place. I knew no one could see through the tinted glass, but we could certainly see them.
Rather than letting me lie there and massaging my bottom (and other locations) as we normally do at a time like this, Randy lifted me up and told me we were almost to the restaurant. I did my best to fix my clothes and makeup. Sure enough, the limousine stopped in front of the door of a very fine French restaurant. This was a fancy place. The driver jumped out and opened the door. As I stepped out, she asked with a concerned look, "Are you OK?" "Yes" I answered, "I'm very happy" without a twinge of embarrassment. She then smiled for the first time and wished us a pleasant dinner.
When we entered the restaurant, the Maitre d' led us to a select table by the window. We did the whole routine - appetizer, salad, entree (I had scallops, Randy had fish), and dessert (chocolate mousse). Everything was excellent. I was uncomfortable in my seat, but it certainly didn't detract from the experience. During dinner, I asked Randy about the driver. He told me he had briefed her in advance about what would happen. He said she had trouble believing that I would willingly accept a hard spanking. He told her that if she had any doubts, she should ask me.
After dinner, we returned to the limousine. We had another glass of champagne. Then Randy informed me that the spanking wasn't over yet. I asked whether he knew something I didn't. "I am only forty-one," I said. Then he caught me on a technicality. With MOAP, both cheeks take every whack. However, with the hairbrush, one side had received only twenty and the other twenty-one. We were only half finished. Not wanting to mess up a wonderful evening (and recognizing I deserved it), I agreed.
Soon I was in the classic OTK position again. The second set hurt far more than the first. Randy smacked my sit spot over and over. I know I made a lot of racket, mostly "ow's" and "oh's." It was still better than MOAP. Finally, it was over. When I returned to my seat, I jumped as I made contact. Suddenly, I wanted to jump him. I was turned on by the first round yet managed to settle down. This time, there was going to be no turning off my desire. I started to unzip my lover. He stopped me gently and informed me we were home.
I went inside while Randy settled up with the driver. As soon as he walked in the door, I pretty much attacked him. He responded, but I could tell he wasn't quite into it. He looked me in the eyes and "Bon, aren't we forgetting something?" "No," I responded. I didn't want to hear about any more clever detours. I wanted my husband to make passionate love to me for my birthday, period. He escaped my embrace and ran up to our bedroom. Now we're talking, I thought. I followed. He went into the closet and returned carrying the MOAP. "No way," I said. "I took my birthday swats, double in fact!" Randy said only "Bend over, Bon. You still need one to grow on." My bottom really hurt, but I granted he was right.
I took the opportunity to remove my clothes. There's nothing like the sight of a naked wife to return her husband's thoughts to where they should be. I definitely distracted him, but eventually, he placed me in position to be paddled. My feet were on the floor, my elbows were on the bed, and my poor red bottom was high in the air. He tapped my bottom once with the paddle to measure his swing. Then he pulled it all the way back. BOOM! It sounded like a cannon and felt like 1000 bee stings. I hopped and rubbed in a vain attempt to stem the pain. Ouch!
At long last, we came to the part of the evening I like best. Randy helped me back onto the bed and situated me on all fours. After stimulating me with his mouth, he took me from behind. He offered a delightful mix of aggressiveness and gentleness. It took a while to satisfy my voracious sexual appetite, but my lover made it happen. When we finished, I was absolutely limp. I had spent all my emotional energy. We lay in bed and just snuggled before going to sleep. What a night!
That's my story. Looking back, I can hardly believe it all happened just last night. Then, of course, I do have a very sore derriere to remind me. This is a memory I will treasure for a long time. I wonder how he'll top this next year?
Keywords: spanking, birthday spanking, spanking stories
Tuesday, September 27, 2005
Spankos' Night Out
I’m pleased to tell the story of Randy's latest surprise. It was one of his best efforts, and that's a pretty strong statement.
On Friday night, Randy told me not to plan anything for the following day. He said only that he had a surprise. I pressed him for details, but he responded with a smile and an arched eyebrow. Well, that sent my imagination into overdrive. I knew from experience that he was capable of executing some pretty exotic plans. What would it be? Often, I can glean a hint. This time, I hadn't a clue!
About mid-morning Saturday (while I was on the computer), Randy asked me to pack a suitcase. We were going on a trip! I was to pack two sets of clothes - one very dressy, one very comfortable. I was intrigued. I did it and threw in sleepwear, swimwear, and a whole bunch of other assorted stuff. Twenty plus years with this guy have taught me that I had better be prepared for anything.
We left after lunch and headed north. A few hours later, it was clear that we were entering the downtown area of a large city. We checked into a fancy hotel. The corner room was positively palatial - wood, marble, and a beautiful view of the city! I was impressed. I hugged and kissed him. This was a fun surprise. Before we moved too far down the road to romance, Randy told me that it was time to get ready for dinner. I put on a black dress with pearls and matching earrings. Randy wore a charcoal suit with a white shirt and gray checked tie. I thought we looked pretty good!
Randy took us to an upscale Mediterranean restaurant. After a tasty mixed greens salad, we dined on sautéed lobster and white wine. It was delightful. For dessert, there was this dark chocolate monstrosity. I am at a loss to describe it, but it was so delicious. What a great meal! I'll bet we were in the restaurant for two hours. Surrounded by luxury and comfort, we talked about anything and everything.
As we were leaving, Randy produced a pair of theatre tickets. We were going to a play! Into a taxi we climbed and away to the theatre we went. He just loves to surprise me. Surprises like these I'll take anytime. The seats were great and the performance was very funny. Afterward, we returned to the hotel.
I wasn't about to let such a great evening go unrewarded. Before he could strip off my clothes, I undressed him first. He offered no resistance. I knelt before him and demonstrated the depth of my appreciation. As soon as he regained his wits, the fun began in earnest. He pulled from his suitcase a small bag and placed it on the bed. He sat next to it then helped me down over his lap. For a change, he was naked and I was still mostly dressed. He pulled up my dress and slip then slid down my pantyhose and underwear. I shivered with anticipation as I felt a cool breeze against my carefully positioned rear.
From the bag Randy removed not a spanking implement, but a small marital aid. This is the kind that looks like a part of the male anatomy and serves essentially the same purpose. He applied it externally (to my delight) for a couple of minutes. Then, he inserted the little buzzer. Next, he pulled my underwear way up so it would hold the toy in place but expose my cheeks.
Just then, our leather slapper appeared. For those unfamiliar with this implement, it is semi-rigid and shaped like a small, thin paddle. It works right at the surface to generate an impressive sting, but does little serious damage. By this time, I was prepared for anything he wanted to do to me. He employed the slapper on my bottom with great gusto. I yelped and howled, but I enjoyed every exciting moment. The spanking went on for quite a while. The slapper made a great, resounding smack sound each time it impacted on my skin. The combination of stinging, heat, and buzzing within drove me wild. When he finally finished, I was completely out of breath and completely out of control.
He didn't make me wait long for the sex I now desperately craved. Within seconds, the vibrating toy was replaced by my dear husband. He worked quickly and efficiently to relieve any residual tension. I wanted to squeeze him and never let go. After the lovemaking concluded, we snuggled until we fell asleep.
The morning held a playful spanking, more lovemaking, shower games, and a nice brunch. Then we checked out and drove home. All in all, it was tremendous surprise! I don't call him Prince Charming for nothing!
Keywords: spanking, strapping, spanking stories
Monday, September 26, 2005
When It Rains...
Here's another happy spanking memory...
It's been one of those weeks. Randy and I, it seems, have barely seen each other since last weekend. Either I had to be somewhere or he did. Either he was asleep or I was. When we were both around at the same time, so was our daughter. In our brief conversations, we raised the possibility of a private encounter. However, it just didn't happen, until last night.
I was delighted when Randy arrived home well ahead of schedule. Our daughter was attending a school activity. This was the perfect opportunity!
We both immediately recognized our good fortune and hustled upstairs like a pair of teenagers left at home alone. I figured that we didn't have too much time. To speed things along, I took the initiative to remove my clothes. I expected Randy to follow suit, but he didn't. Men! He instead retrieved some implements from our toy drawer. Next, he sat on the edge of the bed and I took my position over his lap. It was spanking time!
He began with our tear-shaped paddle. At first, the whacks weren't too hard. As he progressed, Randy gradually built up the intensity. Within a few minutes, he was really whacking my bottom. I knew better than trying to cover the target with my hands, but I was sorely tempted. Then, abruptly, he stopped.
"Are you done yet?" he inquired. His voice had a playful ring.
"No, I'm not done" I said in an annoyed voice. How on earth could he think I was done? There was no rubbing, no caressing, and most importantly, no lovemaking!
"OK, let's try this" said Randy, in a helpful tone. With that, he exchanged the paddle for the heavy wooden bathbrush and quickly put it to work. On top of a well-paddled bottom, each swat from the brush burned like a flame. I tried to explain that this wasn't exactly what I meant, but I'm sure my words made little sense at that point. Ouch! Every firm stroke from the brush shocked my crimson skin. Employing a snapping motion with his wrist, Randy positively roasted me. Yet, the blows continued to fall against my chastened rear. By the time he stopped, I was jumping and bouncing on his lap.
He helped me up and I helped him out of his clothes. I knelt before my lover and attended to his satisfaction. He was suitably impressed.
Then he positioned me on the bed and made love to me from the rear. Despite my painful derriere, we had a great time. The after-effects of our little adventure have been quite evident all day today. I adore that feeling!
Keywords: spanking, paddling, spanking stories
It's been one of those weeks. Randy and I, it seems, have barely seen each other since last weekend. Either I had to be somewhere or he did. Either he was asleep or I was. When we were both around at the same time, so was our daughter. In our brief conversations, we raised the possibility of a private encounter. However, it just didn't happen, until last night.
I was delighted when Randy arrived home well ahead of schedule. Our daughter was attending a school activity. This was the perfect opportunity!
We both immediately recognized our good fortune and hustled upstairs like a pair of teenagers left at home alone. I figured that we didn't have too much time. To speed things along, I took the initiative to remove my clothes. I expected Randy to follow suit, but he didn't. Men! He instead retrieved some implements from our toy drawer. Next, he sat on the edge of the bed and I took my position over his lap. It was spanking time!
He began with our tear-shaped paddle. At first, the whacks weren't too hard. As he progressed, Randy gradually built up the intensity. Within a few minutes, he was really whacking my bottom. I knew better than trying to cover the target with my hands, but I was sorely tempted. Then, abruptly, he stopped.
"Are you done yet?" he inquired. His voice had a playful ring.
"No, I'm not done" I said in an annoyed voice. How on earth could he think I was done? There was no rubbing, no caressing, and most importantly, no lovemaking!
"OK, let's try this" said Randy, in a helpful tone. With that, he exchanged the paddle for the heavy wooden bathbrush and quickly put it to work. On top of a well-paddled bottom, each swat from the brush burned like a flame. I tried to explain that this wasn't exactly what I meant, but I'm sure my words made little sense at that point. Ouch! Every firm stroke from the brush shocked my crimson skin. Employing a snapping motion with his wrist, Randy positively roasted me. Yet, the blows continued to fall against my chastened rear. By the time he stopped, I was jumping and bouncing on his lap.
He helped me up and I helped him out of his clothes. I knelt before my lover and attended to his satisfaction. He was suitably impressed.
Then he positioned me on the bed and made love to me from the rear. Despite my painful derriere, we had a great time. The after-effects of our little adventure have been quite evident all day today. I adore that feeling!
Keywords: spanking, paddling, spanking stories
Sunday, September 25, 2005
Good for the Gander
Here's an oldie but goodie...
I recently advised a friend that if she wanted a spanking, she should ask for it. That, I thought later, was easy for me to say. It wasn't my bottom in the line of fire. Well, to make a long story short, I decided that I needed to accept my own advice and to ask for a tail warming tonight. It has been more than a week since my last encounter with the paddle and my stress levels were spiking. In my mind, I was overdue.
I have asked for spankings many times before. However, I usually hint at it or use a pre-arranged signal. Tonight would be different. When Randy came home, I was in the kitchen. I wore nothing but one of those pink thongs he loves to stuff in my underwear drawer. As soon as I heard the sound of the garage door opening, I took my position. I placed a pillow along the front edge of the kitchen table and bent down over it. I reached over and grabbed our heaviest wooden hairbrush from the table and placed in the small of my back. There I waited. One minute. Two minutes. Three minutes. I thought, "What could he possibly be doing in the basement?" Finally, I heard the sound of my lover slowly trudging up the steps. When he opened the door from the basement, he was staring straight at my business end.
"Well, look at this!" he said almost chuckling, "I can't imagine a more appetizing sight." With that he removed the hairbrush from my back. Instead of bringing it down on my carefully displayed flesh, he set it on the table. At this point, I was wondering what he was going to do. I didn't have to wait long. He slid the thong aside, spread my cheeks and skillfully applied the best of his lips, tongue, and teeth to my exposed sex. I lost it. He had done it again. He managed to turn my own special surprise back upon me twofold. I further parted my legs to facilitate his overtures. Within a minute, my Prince Charming had me screaming and I hadn't even received a single swat (yet).
I was frantic. I was so turned-on. I wanted more loving. I wanted my spanking. As you've probably guessed by now, I wasn't disappointed on either count. I was still panting when the first blow from the hairbrush landed. It sizzled. The second hit on the opposing side. Wow, that was hard! He placed his left hand in the middle of my waist and yanked the thong tight again. Suddenly, he resumed with a relentless pace. As I lay across that cold table, I came to realization that the cozy little spanking I planned was turning into a world class rump roasting. He delivered that hardwood hairbrush about thirty times on each cheek (I know this because he is watching me write this story and I asked - *I* was certainly in no frame of mind to keep track!).
Sometimes when my bottom is absorbing a particular effective spanking, I wonder why on earth I subject myself to all of this pain. It's a passing thought, however, quickly displaced by another flood of passion and longing. As is his practice, Randy spent extra time and effort on the lower slopes of my buttocks. He once told me that if it doesn't hurt when I sit for at least a day afterward, he has failed in his duty. There would be no such accusations on this night. I recall thinking "I wonder if anyone will notice if I bring a pillow to work tomorrow?" Finally, it was over. As much as I enjoy receiving a vigorous spanking, I really didn't want any more of that brush.
I started to get up when Randy gently eased me back down onto the table. He slid my thong down, around, and off. I gasped as he mounted me. My body offered no resistance. Here I was having sex with my dear husband on the same spot where moments ago he had lit up my tail with that infernal hairbrush. Each thrust brought a rush of pleasure and a throb of pain. I adore those feelings and the man who gives me both at the same time.
Afterward, we took a shower together amid further play. Anytime we get to fooling around, Randy can't seem to keep his hands off my derriere. On this occasion, he found it to be even more responsive than usual. Every time he touched me there I nearly jumped a foot. But I did I ask him to stop? Not on your life!
Well, that's the tale, blow by blow as it happened. I got everything I asked for and more. Boy oh boy, did I get it!
Keywords: spanking, hairbrush spanking, spanking stories
I recently advised a friend that if she wanted a spanking, she should ask for it. That, I thought later, was easy for me to say. It wasn't my bottom in the line of fire. Well, to make a long story short, I decided that I needed to accept my own advice and to ask for a tail warming tonight. It has been more than a week since my last encounter with the paddle and my stress levels were spiking. In my mind, I was overdue.
I have asked for spankings many times before. However, I usually hint at it or use a pre-arranged signal. Tonight would be different. When Randy came home, I was in the kitchen. I wore nothing but one of those pink thongs he loves to stuff in my underwear drawer. As soon as I heard the sound of the garage door opening, I took my position. I placed a pillow along the front edge of the kitchen table and bent down over it. I reached over and grabbed our heaviest wooden hairbrush from the table and placed in the small of my back. There I waited. One minute. Two minutes. Three minutes. I thought, "What could he possibly be doing in the basement?" Finally, I heard the sound of my lover slowly trudging up the steps. When he opened the door from the basement, he was staring straight at my business end.
"Well, look at this!" he said almost chuckling, "I can't imagine a more appetizing sight." With that he removed the hairbrush from my back. Instead of bringing it down on my carefully displayed flesh, he set it on the table. At this point, I was wondering what he was going to do. I didn't have to wait long. He slid the thong aside, spread my cheeks and skillfully applied the best of his lips, tongue, and teeth to my exposed sex. I lost it. He had done it again. He managed to turn my own special surprise back upon me twofold. I further parted my legs to facilitate his overtures. Within a minute, my Prince Charming had me screaming and I hadn't even received a single swat (yet).
I was frantic. I was so turned-on. I wanted more loving. I wanted my spanking. As you've probably guessed by now, I wasn't disappointed on either count. I was still panting when the first blow from the hairbrush landed. It sizzled. The second hit on the opposing side. Wow, that was hard! He placed his left hand in the middle of my waist and yanked the thong tight again. Suddenly, he resumed with a relentless pace. As I lay across that cold table, I came to realization that the cozy little spanking I planned was turning into a world class rump roasting. He delivered that hardwood hairbrush about thirty times on each cheek (I know this because he is watching me write this story and I asked - *I* was certainly in no frame of mind to keep track!).
Sometimes when my bottom is absorbing a particular effective spanking, I wonder why on earth I subject myself to all of this pain. It's a passing thought, however, quickly displaced by another flood of passion and longing. As is his practice, Randy spent extra time and effort on the lower slopes of my buttocks. He once told me that if it doesn't hurt when I sit for at least a day afterward, he has failed in his duty. There would be no such accusations on this night. I recall thinking "I wonder if anyone will notice if I bring a pillow to work tomorrow?" Finally, it was over. As much as I enjoy receiving a vigorous spanking, I really didn't want any more of that brush.
I started to get up when Randy gently eased me back down onto the table. He slid my thong down, around, and off. I gasped as he mounted me. My body offered no resistance. Here I was having sex with my dear husband on the same spot where moments ago he had lit up my tail with that infernal hairbrush. Each thrust brought a rush of pleasure and a throb of pain. I adore those feelings and the man who gives me both at the same time.
Afterward, we took a shower together amid further play. Anytime we get to fooling around, Randy can't seem to keep his hands off my derriere. On this occasion, he found it to be even more responsive than usual. Every time he touched me there I nearly jumped a foot. But I did I ask him to stop? Not on your life!
Well, that's the tale, blow by blow as it happened. I got everything I asked for and more. Boy oh boy, did I get it!
Keywords: spanking, hairbrush spanking, spanking stories
Saturday, September 24, 2005
Anything But That!
Randy got me good last night. Real good. I don’t mean he spanked me, though as you will soon see, he surely did. No, my dear husband twisted my mind in a major way. Maybe it’s because he knows me so well, but he has a knack for turning my desires inside out.
It was Friday night and we were both relieved to have finished a busy week at work. As soon as he walked into the kitchen, I knew the evening held something special. Randy grabbed my waist with his strong arms and pulled me toward him. He overwhelmed me with kisses as his hands roamed over my hips, thighs, and derriere. Rubs became pats and pats became slaps across the back of my skirt. I caressed his muscular chest as I unbuttoned his shirt. His mouth found its way to my temples, my cheeks, my ears, and my neck. I was ready to surrender, but he had another plan.
My lover whispered in my ear, “Let’s go upstairs.” He didn’t have to make that suggestion twice. As I trudged up the steps to our bedroom, I was all the while conscious of Randy’s hands reaching beneath the hem of my skirt to grip my hips. Playtime was just ahead.
When we reached our bedroom, Randy directed me to “strip and assume ‘the position.’” I adore that kind of talk. At our house, “the position” means on all fours at the edge of the bed. He intended to spank me and I was breathless with anticipation. As much as it hurts, a well-executed bottom blistering ignites an erotic flame within me unrivaled by any other experience. At that moment, I wanted him to strike me with a hard wooden paddle – not just once, but as many times as was necessary to turn that flame into a passionate inferno.
I took my position and patiently (OK, I wasn’t that patient) awaited my fate. I looked over my shoulder to see if I could determine what my man was doing. What I saw next sent a shiver though my exposed body. Randy had over his shoulder my nemesis. It was a long, thick board we call the Mother of All Paddles (or MOAP, for short). This implement is bigger and badder than any paddle has a right to be. When Randy first brought it home, I thought it was a joke. There’s no way anyone in their right mind would want their bottom to be hit with that thing! Since then, we’ve met on a number of occasions. Each time, I vowed never again. It’s too heavy. It’s too thuddy. It’s too bruising. It’s simply too much.
Suddenly, my mood had shifted from lusty to leery. I didn’t want anything to do with that accursed plank. I told him so. Randy politely reminded me that he was in charge of my spankings and he would decide what would happen to my seat. True enough, I conceded, but that paddle was out. No way. Not me. Not here. Not tonight. Not that!
I found myself begging for mercy. “Please, Honey, anything but that” I wailed. Randy gave in far more easily than I anticipated. “OK” he said with an ominous finality in his voice. He tossed aside the hated bun toaster. It hit the floor with a surprisingly loud bang.
“Lie on your back” was his next command. It was beginning to dawn upon me that I was about to learn a new definition for the word “anything.” He walked to his dresser and removed from it a thick, black leather belt. I’ve never been a fan of belts and he well knew that. They tend to wrap around my hips in a most unpleasant manner. At this moment, though, I was hardly in a position to bargain.
My Prince Charming grabbed my ankles and dragged me over to the edge of the bed such that my legs were hanging off. In his left hand, he gathered both of my ankles and lifted my legs straight toward the ceiling. His strong right hand held the dangling instrument of my chastisement. He began slowly, but soon picked up both the pace and the intensity of the assault upon my poor buttocks. The belt made sharp “whap” sounds as it repeatedly made fierce contact with my reddening skin.
As so often happens during a spanking, my mind ventured from bravery to panic to alarm to resistance to resignation to acceptance. By the time Randy finished applying the belt, I was ready to embrace whatever he thought best. The pain was very real, but seemed as though it were happening to someone else in another place and time. Somehow the roughness of it all and the feeling of being his conquest made me crave my husband all the more.
Dropping the belt, he took me on that very spot. I had little opportunity to catch my breath before the next phase of our carnal feast. As the lovemaking escalated, his powerful hands grasped and squeezed my punished spheres. My entire body quaked with monumental completion. Over and over, pleasure mixed with pain and comfort with discomfort until I could no longer differentiate those richly intoxicating sensations. I was bathed in a warm tingle. Randy too shook as he delivered his gift.
Afterward, we lay in bed, exhausted yet thrilled by the magic we had conjured. For me, it was a wild ride and one for which I am most grateful. Randy is a master at shaping and bending my emotions in ways I just never see coming. He can take something I desire and convince me I don’t. He can make me accept it anyway and then persuade me I can’t live without it. I might get confused were it not for the overriding love I feel for this man. I want anything he wants me to have.
Keywords: spanking, belt spanking, spanking stories
It was Friday night and we were both relieved to have finished a busy week at work. As soon as he walked into the kitchen, I knew the evening held something special. Randy grabbed my waist with his strong arms and pulled me toward him. He overwhelmed me with kisses as his hands roamed over my hips, thighs, and derriere. Rubs became pats and pats became slaps across the back of my skirt. I caressed his muscular chest as I unbuttoned his shirt. His mouth found its way to my temples, my cheeks, my ears, and my neck. I was ready to surrender, but he had another plan.
My lover whispered in my ear, “Let’s go upstairs.” He didn’t have to make that suggestion twice. As I trudged up the steps to our bedroom, I was all the while conscious of Randy’s hands reaching beneath the hem of my skirt to grip my hips. Playtime was just ahead.
When we reached our bedroom, Randy directed me to “strip and assume ‘the position.’” I adore that kind of talk. At our house, “the position” means on all fours at the edge of the bed. He intended to spank me and I was breathless with anticipation. As much as it hurts, a well-executed bottom blistering ignites an erotic flame within me unrivaled by any other experience. At that moment, I wanted him to strike me with a hard wooden paddle – not just once, but as many times as was necessary to turn that flame into a passionate inferno.
I took my position and patiently (OK, I wasn’t that patient) awaited my fate. I looked over my shoulder to see if I could determine what my man was doing. What I saw next sent a shiver though my exposed body. Randy had over his shoulder my nemesis. It was a long, thick board we call the Mother of All Paddles (or MOAP, for short). This implement is bigger and badder than any paddle has a right to be. When Randy first brought it home, I thought it was a joke. There’s no way anyone in their right mind would want their bottom to be hit with that thing! Since then, we’ve met on a number of occasions. Each time, I vowed never again. It’s too heavy. It’s too thuddy. It’s too bruising. It’s simply too much.
Suddenly, my mood had shifted from lusty to leery. I didn’t want anything to do with that accursed plank. I told him so. Randy politely reminded me that he was in charge of my spankings and he would decide what would happen to my seat. True enough, I conceded, but that paddle was out. No way. Not me. Not here. Not tonight. Not that!
I found myself begging for mercy. “Please, Honey, anything but that” I wailed. Randy gave in far more easily than I anticipated. “OK” he said with an ominous finality in his voice. He tossed aside the hated bun toaster. It hit the floor with a surprisingly loud bang.
“Lie on your back” was his next command. It was beginning to dawn upon me that I was about to learn a new definition for the word “anything.” He walked to his dresser and removed from it a thick, black leather belt. I’ve never been a fan of belts and he well knew that. They tend to wrap around my hips in a most unpleasant manner. At this moment, though, I was hardly in a position to bargain.
My Prince Charming grabbed my ankles and dragged me over to the edge of the bed such that my legs were hanging off. In his left hand, he gathered both of my ankles and lifted my legs straight toward the ceiling. His strong right hand held the dangling instrument of my chastisement. He began slowly, but soon picked up both the pace and the intensity of the assault upon my poor buttocks. The belt made sharp “whap” sounds as it repeatedly made fierce contact with my reddening skin.
As so often happens during a spanking, my mind ventured from bravery to panic to alarm to resistance to resignation to acceptance. By the time Randy finished applying the belt, I was ready to embrace whatever he thought best. The pain was very real, but seemed as though it were happening to someone else in another place and time. Somehow the roughness of it all and the feeling of being his conquest made me crave my husband all the more.
Dropping the belt, he took me on that very spot. I had little opportunity to catch my breath before the next phase of our carnal feast. As the lovemaking escalated, his powerful hands grasped and squeezed my punished spheres. My entire body quaked with monumental completion. Over and over, pleasure mixed with pain and comfort with discomfort until I could no longer differentiate those richly intoxicating sensations. I was bathed in a warm tingle. Randy too shook as he delivered his gift.
Afterward, we lay in bed, exhausted yet thrilled by the magic we had conjured. For me, it was a wild ride and one for which I am most grateful. Randy is a master at shaping and bending my emotions in ways I just never see coming. He can take something I desire and convince me I don’t. He can make me accept it anyway and then persuade me I can’t live without it. I might get confused were it not for the overriding love I feel for this man. I want anything he wants me to have.
Keywords: spanking, belt spanking, spanking stories
Let's Get Started
Hi! My name is Bonnie. I'm a forty something female who enjoys many interests. Among the more notable are spanking and lovemaking. To me, these two activities are permanently linked. I can barely conceive of one without the other.
I created this site to share some of my experiences. I sincerely hope that you will be interested, amused, entertained, stimulated, enlightened, or educated. If so, then this effort was worthwhile.
I have been writing spanking stories for years. Most are autobiographical. Originally, I wrote to capture a moment and a memory. I shared the stories with spanko friends, but now I'm ready to release them to a wider audience.
To answer a few obvious questions: Yes, I really do receive spankings. Yes, it does hurt. Yes, I enjoy the sensation, the ritual, and, of course, the fabulous sex that generally follows. ...and yes, these stories are true (plus or minus a wee bit of journalistic license).
So if you're ready to read, I'm ready to assume the position.
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