Quiz: My Secret Spanking Fantasy

Football Star/Cheerleader - You seek a fun,
adventurous spanking. A semi-public locale
would be perfect. You are that kind of
girl.


What is Your Secret Spanking Fantasy?
brought to you by Quizilla


I tried my hand at creating a quiz. I hope you enjoy it!

Keywords: spanking quiz

A Rub in the Tub

Here’s part two of our recent weekend adventure

After our talk, we shared a very pleasant afternoon nap. I don’t think we were sleepy so much as we were feeling warm, snuggly, and connected.

When we awoke, it was the golden late afternoon. Randy suggested a walk in the forest and I quickly agreed. The resort where we stayed had access to miles of well maintained trails. We left our chalet and headed out into the woods. The sky was a deep blue with just the occasional fluffy white cloud. The air was cool and crisp. We could smell smoke from a log fire. I almost suggested that we build our own fire, but quickly bit my tongue as my hands moved involuntarily toward my recently paddled derriere. I might well get another spanking, but I sure wasn’t ready for it to be my idea.

We chose a short loop trail that offered some excellent vistas and plenty of impressive old trees. We held hands as we walked, looking for all the world like a pair of newlyweds. These moments of quiet sharing are the raison d'être for our mini-vacations. They provide us with an opportunity to escape the world of stress in favor of re-coupling and reinforcing the bond between us. About halfway, we came to a bench at a cliff top overlook. We sat there for quite a while taking in the view.

The next thing I knew, we were necking like teenagers. As Randy’s lips aggressively kissed me, his hands fondled my breasts. I had no objection, of course, but I was concerned about being observed. After all, we had seen another couple on the trail. He told me not to worry. It was late in the day and that trail didn’t get too much traffic. How he knew this, I have no idea. Nevertheless, I accepted his explanation.

As Randy nibbled my earlobe and caressed my chest, my resistance dropped. When he whispered in my ear, “Let’s do something crazy,” I had a pretty good idea what he meant. I knelt on the ground in front of the wooden bench. I then unzipped my man’s jeans and liberated his love tool. I took the wand in my fingers before guiding gently it into my mouth. I could feel him grow as I slid his manhood between my tongue and palate. He released a guttural groan as I gradually increased the speed and pressure. I could hear his breathing quicken when I lightly clamped with my teeth and tickled with the tip of my tongue. Finally, I felt the awaited contractions as he unloaded his ejaculate into my throat. It was thick and slightly bitter. I savored his gift.

When I looked up, I saw my dear husband seated on the bench. His limbs were splayed to the four compass points. His head was back and his face bore an expression of ecstatic fatigue. “Nice work,” I thought to myself as I stood up and brushed the dirt from my knees. We rearranged our clothing and headed slowly back toward the chalet. Sundown was approaching and the forest was remarkably dark. About halfway to our destination, Randy stopped and embraced me. “Bon, you are everything I could desire in a lover,” he said. “Tonight, I want to make you happy.” I started to object, but he stopped me by raising his open hand and placing it lightly against my lips. “Shhhhh, this is your night and that’s how it must be.”

After we returned and changed our clothes, we enjoyed a fine dinner at the resort’s best restaurant. We started with a fine field greens salad. The house dressing was an unusual Asian sesame vinaigrette. For the entrée, Randy ordered filet mignon and I had crab-stuffed sole. Both were excellent. For dessert, we both selected the house specialty, a thick, semi-sweet dark chocolate mousse. You’ll never hear me complain about anything chocolate, but this was especially scrumptious.

After dinner, we retired to our chalet. I didn’t know what Randy meant when he talked about making me happy, but I had little doubt he would accomplish the feat. He told me to get naked and wait for him in bed. That plan sounded good. I complied. The next sound I heard was water running. The bathroom had an oversized tub with water jets. He was filling it, presumably in preparation for some aquatic play. Now I was intrigued.

About ten minutes later, Randy called me to join him in the bathroom. As I suspected, he had filled the tub with warm water and turned on the jets. As I entered the room, I couldn’t help but notice an assortment of toys lined upon on the vanity. No one can accuse my dear husband of traveling light. Randy, now as bare as I was, motioned for me to get into the tub. The water was warm and undulating. I settled into a comfortable spot at one end of the tub.

When my Prince Charming entered the water, he repositioned me on all fours such that one of the jets was blasting water right onto a most sensitive locale. It didn’t take long for me to gain a fondness for that sensation. Randy turned up my pleasure a notch by applying our waterproof vibrator. Between the pulsating water jet and the buzzing plastic probe, my hips were soon rocking.

While his left hand operated the toy, Randy’s right hand engaged in superlative rubbing. He rubbed the tender buttocks he had paddled earlier in the day. He rubbed my thighs, my hips, my lower back, and all over. He used a rotary, kneading technique. When blended with the jets and the toy, this exquisite rubbing sent me over the moon with carnal desire.

After several minutes of this stimulation, the inevitable spanking began in earnest. Randy’s hard right palm struck slowly and repeatedly against my already sore bottom. I might have objected, were I not so distracted by the overwhelming pleasure nearby. Besides, the wet flesh on flesh impact made a tremendous smacking sound as it reverberated off the tile walls. This wasn’t a hard spanking, but it didn’t need to be.

When he decided that I was properly prepared, he turned me around and joined with me from behind. As he thrust, he grabbed two handfuls of my ample posterior. The first time he squeezed hard, I screamed in explosive orgasmic release. Wave after wave of bliss flowed through my body. By the time it was over, I was gasping and hoarse. I felt so wobbly that Randy had to help me get out of the tub.

That night, I enjoyed a sleep as deep and sound as any I can remember. Perhaps the clean, fresh air played a role. More likely, though, the key factor was the incredible lovemaking. It left me feeling satisfied, fulfilled, and forever intimately linked with my sweet husband.

This mini-vacation might have been one of our best weekends ever (and that’s saying a lot). It was difficult to go back to our regular lives on Monday morning. These memories make me anticipate our next outing even more. Guess what I want for Christmas…

Keywords: spanking, vacation spanking, spanking stories

Fantasy versus Reality

In an exchange with one of my correspondents, she told me that she enjoys spankings only in the realm of fantasy. "How sad," was my first reaction. Then it occurred to me that if that arrangement meets her needs, who am I to lament or wish for her something more?

After all, fantasy without reality seems a whole lot better than reality without fantasy. For me, both are essential. Fantasy and reality play very different roles. Here's what I mean.

Fantasy	Reality
Turns me on	Finishes me off
In my mind all the time	Happens at best twice per week
May or may not be sexual	Always sexual
Disciplinary themes	Many themes
Merciless spanker	Playacting deserves an Oscar
I'm naughty	I've done nothing wrong
I deserve this	I enjoy this
Severe spankings	Only what is needed
I need a master	I can take care of myself
I need to submit	I want to submit
I like marks	I like marks no one can see
Pain is secondary	Spankings really hurt!
Aware, awake, alert throughout	Sometimes drift into "subspace"
Follows my story line	I never know what's next
Stern and serious	Fun and laughter
Makes for a good story	Makes for a great story
Over when it's over	After-effects last a while
I love my spankings	Same here

Interestingly, Randy has his own spanking fantasies. They seem to be remarkably similar to my reality.

In summary, the most important sexual organ is the one we all share - the mind. Imagination enriches our relationships and stretches our boundaries. Without fantasy, we're just going through the motions.

Halloween Heatwave

Here's one from the crypt

In keeping with the season, Randy and I attended a Halloween party last night. As in years past, we had fun making our own costumes. My dear husband, utilitarian that he is, managed to spend a whole ten minutes creating a humorous costume from items he found in the basement. He located two big white poster boards, no doubt left over from one of our daughter’s school projects. He cut each poster board into an oval shape. He then took two pieces of string, each about a foot in length, and used them to connect the two big circles. The completed project resembled a sandwich board. He tossed his invention over his head so that the strings passed over his shoulders. He wore a brown sweater underneath and declared himself to be a peanut butter sandwich!

I, on the other hand, put a bit more effort into my costume. I decided to be a little devil. That fits, doesn’t it? I bought a dark red leotard and a matching pair of tights. I then found some red material with which to make a pointed tail. The horns were a bit trickier, but eventually, I located those at a costume shop. I cut out the tail, sewed it up, and stuffed it with polyester pillow batting. Next, I attached it to the appropriate spot on the back of the leotard. I had hoped to pin it, but it couldn’t be that simple. Nevertheless, my little devil costume was ready.

I must admit as I was assembling this outfit, I was mindful of Randy’s tastes. I figured he would love the look. In fact, I was counting upon that reaction. Borrowing one of his tactics, I declined to show him the costume in advance. I wanted him to be surprised.

As the time for the party approached, I gathered my collection of costume stuff and headed into the master bathroom to transform myself. I could tell that Randy was intrigued and amused by my secrecy. When I donned my costume, I discovered the fit was slightly more revealing than I had anticipated. The leotard rode high on my hips, and thanks to my, um, mature figure, it provided only partial coverage around back. My derriere looked enormous, but it was too late to back out now. Besides, I just knew Randy would go nuts.

Give me credit, I know my man. When I opened the door, he was sitting on the bed wearing that ridiculous human sandwich get-up. His eyes opened wide and his jaw dropped for a moment. “Wow,” he said. “Spin around and let’s see the back.” I did, ever so slowly just to tantalize him. “You’re just about too hot to take out of the house” Randy proclaimed. I gave him a faux pout in response. With that, the sandwich board costume was off and he was heading toward me at a high rate of speed. He quickly took me in his arms as his hands explored the lycra surface of my costume. As he held me tight, I could sense his rising excitement.

After gaining my interest with kisses and caresses, Randy announced “I think we’re just going to have to whack the devil out of you”. Party or no party, that was fine with me. “Mmmmm…” I said in a small voice. “Promise?”

His retort was decidedly non-verbal. He walked over to the toy drawer and retrieved a small paddle and a heavy wooden hairbrush. He sat on the edge of the bed and guided me down across his lap. The very air was electric with anticipation. He spoke slowly and calmly as he rubbed and patted the seat of my red leotard with the paddle. “I guess you knew precisely what wearing this kind of outfit would get you.” The polished wood felt smooth and cool. “You knew I’d have to spank your naughty bottom.” Now the pats became light swats. “I think you wanted me to use the paddle.” He picked up his pace as my heart raced in time. “You need this right now!” I might have agreed with his assessment had he not sidetracked my attention by unleashing a thunderstorm of stinging whacks all over my posterior.

I was panting hard when he dropped the paddle. I started to arise when his strong left hand pushed my body back into that classic punishment pose. “Not so fast, Missy” he chided. He picked up the hairbrush and immediately resumed working over my aching cheeks. Unlike many newer models, this hairbrush is solid oak. When applied to an unfortunate backside, it rapidly generates an intense burning sensation. The thin nylon of my costume provided no meaningful protection. He must have struck my upturned seat at least twenty times with that infernal implement. Spankings seldom make me cry, but I had tears in my eyes after this one.

We arrived at the party considerably later than most of the other guests. Both of our costumes were an immediate hit. At one point, Randy whispered in my ear that he loved my devil outfit, especially the way the colors matched so well. “Yeah,” I responded with a smile, “Thanks to you.” I know I must have jumped when he instinctively patted my sore spots.

I received both compliments and wisecracks about my devil suit. I felt a bit self-conscious wearing that skin-tight outfit around so many people. It was a bit like a day at the swimming pool. I found myself turning my back to a wall so my big, wide (very well spanked) bottom wouldn’t be quite so much on display.

At one point, one of Randy's friends came up to us and said "Hmm, nice tail." I smiled. Randy then grabbed the tail and said "Here's what it's really good for…" as he gently whipped my bottom with it. I gave him the hands-on-hips look of disapproval that seemed appropriate to the situation. Everyone laughed. I can't say I didn't give myself away, but I felt I had to try to act indignant. It was either that or admit that I like it!

It was an enjoyable party, but a little unnerving too. I don’t know why I always think people can recognize when I’ve been recently spanked, but I do. Randy is definitely aware that this scenario simultaneously fascinates and horrifies me. Perhaps it’s the danger of being exposed that is such a turn on. He searches for such opportunities (and all too often exploits them).

After we arrived home, I thought Randy might want to paddle me again. I, for one, really didn’t need it. But I choose to allow him to make these decisions. On this occasion, other priorities took precedent. In no time, the costume was off of me and my loving husband was on. We rocked together in a breathless coital tango. The conclusion was quick but powerful. We fell asleep in each others' arms.

I don’t need fantasy because on nights like this one, because my reality is better. I got both the trick and the treat!

Keywords: spanking, Halloween spanking, spanking stories

You Might be a Spanko...

         With apologies to Jeff Foxworthy

---

You Might be a Spanko if...

…You know which entertainment venues have the hardest seats …Your bottom has ever been used for the purpose of illumination …You've ever owned a pair of panties with a target on the seat …When someone says laptop, you don’t think about computers …Your bath brush is kept somewhere other than the bathroom …You’ve ever performed a sex act to get out of a spanking …You’ve ever performed a sex act to get a spanking …There’s plenty of paddling at your house, but no canoe …You’ve always adored the smell and texture of leather …You’ve ever been instructed to “grab your ankles” …You’ve ever asked your spanker if he’s done yet …Your computer chair has a cushion on the seat …Hairbrushes outnumber heads at your home …Your cats are named “Sting” and “Thud” …You are first attracted to a man’s hands …You shop for toys at the kitchen store …You know that OTK is not a sorority …You’ve ever named a paddle …You read this blog!

Keywords: spanking humor

Why I Blog

My Bottom Smarts had a birthday yesterday. That's right. This blog is now one month old. It would have been nice to have marked the occasion with a spanking. Alas, that celebration has yet to take place.

This is probably a good time for me to explain why this blog exists. In the beginning, I thought it would be cool to share some of my spanking experiences with the world. After all, I have been chronicling these events for more than ten years. I had all these stories just sitting around, waiting to be freed. Well, free them I did.

Since then, this blog and my concept of it have evolved. I thought there would probably be some spankos out there who might enjoy my tales. As it turns out, there are lots and lots of us! This site has been visited 28,000 times in 31 days! The numbers just floor me. I have worked for many years as a writer. In all that time, I can say with confidence that nothing I've written professionally ever had this kind of exposure.

With this rare opportunity, I feel I have a responsibility to give something back. That's why I posted the Spanking 101 tutorial. I want to share a bit of what we've learned with readers who are still figuring out this lifestyle and their place in it. If I can make their experiences a little easier or a little richer, then I am delighted to do so.

Education is great, but I want this blog to be fun - both for you and for us. Many folks, it seems, take spanking and discipline very, very seriously. Not so here. Clearly, there are issues like safety and consent that are vitally important to get right. But that doesn't mean we shouldn't enjoy some light-hearted laughter.

If there is a message here, it is that erotic spanking can be a very positive, rewarding, and pleasurable experience for both participants. Too many times, I read accounts that portray spankos as being abnormal or dangerous. In my experience, nothing could be further from the truth. We are neither sick nor broken. We are responsible people who choose to express our mutual love in this way. The spankings enrich our lives and strengthen our relationships.

One big surprise has been the human contact. I have met many new friends and reconnected with a few old ones. I have received dozens of e-mail messages. I try to answer as many as I can, but I fall behind sometimes (like now). I like to hear your opinions and your (constructive) suggestions about the site. To the extent time and energy permit, I am happy to answer your questions and share what I know. I am particularly grateful for your well wishes and encouragement. More than anything else, these sentiments inspire me to continue.

Thank you, dear reader, for being here. In the coming weeks and months, I plan to do what I can to keep this blog fresh, fun, and relevant. In the meantime, I had better get ready for bed.

Good night!

The Talk

I have a lot to say about the events of this past weekend, but I don’t possess the energy this evening to record it all. What I will do instead is present one memorable discussion.

Randy and I spent this past weekend at a beautiful chalet in the mountains. This was a getaway we had been awaiting for weeks. We spent three whole days living in luxury and enjoying each other’s company. Every relationship requires rejuvination periodically. This mini-vacation was ours.

One highlight of the trip for me was a talk we had on Saturday afternoon. We were seated together in the tall living room and peering out of the windows that covered the entire back of the chalet. We had a great view of the valley framed by huge pine trees. For ten or fifteen minutes, we sat silently hand in hand and drank in this magnificent sight.

Randy turned his head to look right at me. I knew that look. I returned his gaze. He stood up and walked into the bedroom. When he returned a moment later, my husband was carrying our teardrop paddle. He sat next to me and without a word, patted his thigh. Well familiar with the routine, I positioned my body face down across his lap as he sat on a wide couch in the center of the sunlit living room.

In a well rehearsed choreography, up went my skirt and down came my underwear. The inevitable spanking was approaching quickly. Randy placed the cold wood of the paddle against my bare, pale skin. I prepared my mind for the pain and the thrill that awaited.

Randy delights in exploding my expectations and he did so once again. After a nearly wordless run up, the spanking itself was downright chatty. He punctuated each question with one or more strokes from the paddle.

“So, Bon. You’ve been spending a lot of time fiddling with that blog, haven’t you?”

“Um, yeah.”

“You’re not obsessing on that site, are you?”

“I don’t think so.”

“How much sleep did you get Thursday night?”

“I dunno.”

“Wrong answer!” (at this point he really laid into my bottom).

“I’m sorry.

“I expect you’re about to get a whole lot more sorry. You couldn’t have slept more than four hours.”

“I guess not.”

“Listen to me now. I’m serious. You need to take better care of yourself. I love you and you are important to me. I’m prepared to do what is necessary to keep you healthy and happy.” (the whacks were now falling slowly and heavily)

“I love you too, honey. I appreciate the things you do to help me.”

“That’s better. I want you to limit the time you spend on blogging.”

(Whine)

“No, I mean it. You’ve been blogging when you should have been sleeping.” (I squirmed under a renewed assault upon my throbbing seat)

“OK, I get it.” (boy, was I getting it!)

“I want you to limit your blogging to two hours per day, even when I’m not around.”

All right! All right!” (at this stage, I would have signed anything)

“So it’s agreed?”

“Yes. Please stop now.”

He did stop, but not until after several more minutes of full swing paddling. I danced atop his lap, but made no attempt to escape. I knew he was right. I deserved this spanking and, what’s more, I needed it to re-establish my emotional bearings. I had been overtired during much of the preceding week. When the spanking was over, I felt physically drained, yet spiritually renewed.

We untangled and stood up. We two lovers embraced. At that moment, I realized that I had just been soundly paddled in front of a twenty foot tall picture window. I don’t have any reason to believe there was anyone below us, but it was possible. The thought passed quickly as Randy’s hand came in contact with my stinging derriere. As he hugged me with one hand, he massaged my exposed bottom cheeks with the other. It hurt, but in a different sense, it felt good as well.

Anytime Randy rubs my bottom, it is arousing for both of us. When it happens immediately after a spanking, the effect is magnified. Not surprisingly, I ended up up-ended over the back of the overstuffed couch. My man placed a hand upon each of my hips as he drove deep into my love nest. As he thrust over and over, his thumbs continued to knead my punished orbs. This intoxicating mixture of sensation pushed me to a breathless climax. Moments later, my husband shook as he finished too.

Afterward, Randy helped me to my feet and we retired to the bedroom. There, we shared a well earned afternoon nap.

In retrospect, I realize that he was right. I do need to better manage my time. Now the question I face is, was our little chat a punishment or a reward?

Suddenly, I don’t feel sleepy anymore…

Continued in part two.

Keywords: spanking, vacation spanking, spanking stories

Quiz: Keys to My Heart

I love these quizzes. This one is very close to the mark.

The Keys to Your Heart

You are attracted to good manners and elegance. In love, you feel the most alive when your lover is creative and never lets you feel bored. You'd like to your lover to think you are stylish and alluring. You would be forced to break up with someone who was emotional, moody, and difficult to please. Your ideal relationship is open. Both of you can talk about everything... no secrets. Your risk of cheating is zero. You care about society and morality. You would never break a commitment. You think of marriage something you've always wanted... though you haven't really thought about it. In this moment, you think of love as something you thirst for. You'll do anything for love, but you won't fall for it easily.

What Are The Keys To Your Heart?

Patty's Quiz

You need a good sound paddling and you'd welcome it
too.


What kind of spanking do you deserve?
brought to you by Quizilla




Thanks, Patty! Besides the delicious paddling, I'm delighted to place some of your fabulous artwork on my page.

The Boat Story

When my future husband and I had been dating for about a year, we took a springtime trip to sunny Florida. We stayed in a very fancy condo owned by his boss. It had just about everything we could want (and a few features I wouldn't have thought to want). One morning, Randy left early saying he had a chore to perform. He told me to meet him at noon at a seafood restaurant located about a mile down the main road. As he departed, he told me to be ready for a "surprise." When he uses that word and tone of voice to me, it usually involves some sort of sexual adventure. At least that was my interpretation.

All morning I wondered what he was planning. I thought he had taken the car, but it was still in the driveway. Could he still be around? I even searched the condo, but to no avail. Finally, I decided I was just going to prepare for anything. I put on my lime green bikini (you know, the one with the triangle tops and the teeny bottom - oh, if only I had the body to wear that today!) with a little white shirt over the top. I got in the car and drove to the restaurant.

It was about noon when I arrived, but there was no sign of Prince Charming. I waited for a few minutes in the front still wondering what was about to happen. Just then, he appeared with a broad smile across his face. Playing it cool, I suggested we get a table. Randy said, "That won't be necessary. I've already got our lunch." With that he motioned me to follow him. We walked through the restaurant, out the back door, and onto the restaurant's private dock. Parked at the dock was a beautiful cabin cruiser.

When he jumped on board, I thought he was kidding around. A few moments later, it dawned on me that he really expected me to follow. I asked, "Whose boat is this?" At this point he explained the boat belonged to his boss. It had been in the shop (or wherever you take a sick boat) for some maintenance. Randy had been picked at the condo by the mechanic and taken to the shop. After settling the boss's account, he then drove the boat to the restaurant. Now he proposed we go for "a little ride." OK, I thought I was ready for anything, but he surprised me anyway. "What the hell?" I figured. Sex on the water sounded like fun.

We cruised out for about a half-hour. While we ate some lunch, I questioned Randy about whether he actually knew how to pilot a boat and not get lost. He assured me he did. Finally, he stopped the engines. There was no one else in sight except for a big cargo ship far in the distance. A little smooching gave way to a little caressing followed by some more serious play. All at once, without a word, Randy got up and went down into the cabin. When he returned, he was carrying a large blue plastic bath brush. "Look what I found," he said. It was shaped somewhat like a hairbrush, but with a bigger head and longer handle. I instantly knew I needed to be spanked by my lover with that brush right now.


I silently removed my bikini bottom and situated myself across his lap. The first swat came almost immediately. It was very intense. I jumped from the impact. The ones that followed were no less impressive. I just couldn't believe that brush could generate so much heat so quickly. The spanking went on and on. For my part, I didn't care if he ever stopped. I was so turned on, I felt I could take anything. Eventually, it did end as all spankings do. I was panting from the pain, from the excitement, from the desire. Randy put down the brush, picked me up, and carried me into the cabin. He put me down on the bed and entered me from behind. My psyche exploded. Love and lust, pain and ecstasy, woman and man all blurred into a soft haze.

We must have fallen asleep. When we awoke, it was obviously late afternoon. We figured we had better get back before nightfall. As Randy fired up the engines, I went into the small bathroom. I shouldn't have been shocked at the appearance of my backside, but I was. Where there weren't welts, there were bruises. Ouch, now it hurt! When I went to put my clothes back on, I realized I had a bigger problem than just an aching bottom. My cute little bikini couldn't possibly be expected to cover the damage. I hadn't thought to bring a cover-up. I thought I was going to lunch! Since I didn't know how to drive the boat, the only way to get both the boat and car home would be for me to walk the entire length of the restaurant at dinnertime with my crimson derriere on full display. What a predicament!

When I explained the problem to Randy, he agreed that there was no other way. He seemed far too pleased with the scenario for my liking. However, no amount of bitching and complaining could change my fate. Just then Randy had another idea (just what I needed). He said "if you run through the place with your hands over your ass, everyone is sure to stare at you. If you want to get out without any hassle, you need to act nonchalant. Let's just wander in, get a table, have a nice dinner, and relax." As I am so often in these situations, I was simultaneously horrified and intrigued.

Ultimately, I did go to dinner. I don't know if everyone in the whole place was gawking at me, but it sure seemed that way. I wanted to get up and yell "Yes! I did get spanked today! So what? Get over it!" I didn't. Randy may have had a relaxing dinner, but not me. Glowing bare cheeks on a vinyl seat is an itchy, squirmy, uncomfortable experience. Worst of all, halfway through dinner, I decided I had to pee. I just couldn't wait any longer. I didn't run, but I walked *very* fast. When I returned, it felt as though the whole restaurant really was looking at me. The guys appeared amused. The women looked concerned.

At that moment, I decided this game might hold some fun after all. With that I sat down (yow!), and planted a huge kiss on the lips of my slightly surprised boyfriend. Looking around, I saw a number of couples who appeared to be quietly discussing what they had just observed. Perhaps we won a convert or two! When it was time to leave, we just got up and left - Randy in the boat and me in the car. Needless to say, there were more festivities when we were reunited at the condo.

Of all my spanking stories, this is my absolute favorite. We've discussed repeating it, but we've never gotten the nerve. I doubt we could ever reproduce the sheer spontaneity of the situation. In any case, the boat story will forever inhabit a place of honor in my hall of memories.


We're going away for a mini-vacation. I wanted to leave you, my dear readers, with a little treat. This story was one of the first I ever recorded. It's still a favorite. Have a wonderful weekend!

Keywords: spanking, spanking memories, spanking stories

Ten Reasons to Spank Your Lover(with her consent, of course)

Spankings relax her Spankings help her focus Spankings turn her on Spankings make for a peaceful home Spankings enhance communication Spankings give her that nice healthy glow It’s fun It makes a cool sound She likes it! Do the initials B.J. mean anything to you?

Buzzword Bonanza

Are there certain words and phrases that get your motor running? There deinitely are for me, and my man knows them all. Here’s what I mean…

Last weekend, I decided that things were just a bit too quiet around our domicile. Randy was on his computer, no doubt inventing another of his virtual contraptions. This man is truly the Rube Goldberg of Cyberspace. I suppose I could have simply asked for his attention, but I didn't. No, an inventive man deserves an inventive invitation.

I decided to e-mail him a spanking postcard. After all, how better to reach the consummate dweeb than through his computer? I chose one that featured a picture of a man applying a hairbrush to his willing partner's bare seat. The caption read "Oh yes, I've been so naughty!" Perfect. My message could not possibly be misconstrued, even by a guy who majored in obliviousness. In the text part of the card I wrote, "Are you getting a little behind in your work?" I liked that line, although the word "little" is hardly applicable in my case.

I went into our bedroom to await my fate. I knew he was online. It was merely a matter of time before he checked his mailbox. In preparation, I dressed for success. I put on a pink thong and a big shirt. I then lay on the bed, on my tummy. All was ready. I picked up a book, but honestly, I couldn't concentrate enough to get anything from it.

It took about fifteen or twenty minutes for my Prince Charming to get around to reading his mail. To me, it seemed like hours. I always feel ambivalent during the time when I am waiting to be spanked. While I look forward to the contact, the thrill, the fulfillment, and the release, I also experience second thoughts beforehand, especially when I have asked for it. So it was on this occasion.

As soon as Randy walked in the room, the barrage of buzzwords began. It went something like this. "Well, young lady, I see that you have been naughty. I believe a bare-bottom spanking is in order." These words sent an anticipatory shiver through my body. He grabbed the trusty wooden hairbrush (which someone had conveniently left right out in plain sight). This is probably the implement of choice in our house. At least it gets more use than any of the others. I thought Randy would take me across his lap (as depicted in the picture), but he didn't, at least not yet.

With my compliant cooperation, he slid a couple of pillows beneath my hips. As he propped up my bottom, he explained how he wanted to gain full access to the area he was about to punish. Then he placed the wooden back to the brush against my skin. "I believe that to be effective, a spanking must be memorable." Down came the brush several times at full velocity. I jumped from the shock of the impact. "If I do my job properly, this little session should provide a vivid memory for at least the next several days." With that, the whacks fell again. He clearly wasn't holding back anything. I find that when I ask, I generally receive a very intense spanking. Perhaps that is as it should be.

"I like to spank you right HERE." The punctuation was a sizzling swat right at the base of my derriere. He followed it with a couple more of the same. "No, you're not going to be able to sit tomorrow." At this point, I had no doubt he was correct. "Every time you feel that ache, I want you to remember how and why you were disciplined." After adding a few more sharp stings, he changed strategy.

Randy sat on the edge of the bed and invited me across his lap. I cooperatively assumed my usual position. He placed his left arm around my upper hips as if to secure me in place. Then the lecture resumed, "You should know by now, young lady, that every time you misbehave, you're going to be disciplined. You also know that in this house, that means a sssspanking." He drew out the final word as though the very act didn't provide sufficient emphasis. Now the buzzwords and the swats freely intermingled.

Finally, Randy ceased the attack, albeit briefly. He put down the brush and used his hand to caress the surface he had just warmed. His voice was now calm and soothing. "Bon, you have one beautiful bottom," he said. "It was just designed to take a spanking. What's more, you have the perfect mind to go with it." OK, now I felt flattered, but I wondered where he was going. He again picked up the brush. The festivities had not quite reached their conclusion.

"I used to think you liked these spanking sessions." (whack!) Before I could correct him, he said, "You don't just like them." (whack!) "You don't just love them." (whack!) "You don't just want them." (whack!) "You absolutely NEED them." (lots of whacks!) He received no argument from me. "No husband could ask for any more."

With that, he took me in his arms and hugged me. I told him that I did need the things that he did to me. I felt completely contented in his arms and I told him so. This conversation segued nicely into the passionate interlude that followed. It was wonderful. We even got to take a nap together afterward. Life is good.

I guess this story gives a whole new meaning to the phrase "you've got mail."

Keywords: spanking, spanking dialogue, spanking stories

Spanking 101: How Hard is Hard Enough?

So you're just starting your spanking relationship. You want the "real" spanking experience, not some inferior imitation. You've received a few whacks here and there. It was fun and a real turn-on, but you're yearning for that traditional tail-warmer. You want your partner to give you more, much more. You sometimes wonder if there's not something special out there that you're missing.

Your partner is a nice enough guy, but he doesn't really understand all this spanking business. He participates because you asked him. He certainly has no idea what to try next. You are going to have to tell him, no doubt in exquisite detail. But that begs the question, what do you truly want?

For someone who is just learning about how spanking can enhance their relationship, these are very natural questions. The answers get right to the bottom of this activity and its appropriate role in our lives. Each couple is likely to define erotic spanking slightly differently. As with intercourse, the act may be the same, but the meaning that people derive from it can vary greatly. In this context, there are few answers that are objectively right or wrong. Each couple must determine what works best for them.

Every couple who tries spanking, or any other new sexual practice, has at least one objective. Hopefully, they don't have two conflicting aims, but that's another discussion. The goal might be foreplay. It could be just be simple curiosity or a desire for variety. Whatever the reason, the immediate result is generally that nice, healthy glow.

As their interests grow, many couples find other, more meaningful purposes. Among these are fulfillment, communication, intimacy, and trust. For most of us, these elements hold the true value inherent in adult spanking. The pain, it turns out, is not an objective at all. Rather, it's merely a byproduct, a means to an end (and a sore end at that!).

The answer, then, to the original question is "it depends." Each of us is different, physically and emotionally. We have different pain tolerances and levels of desire for physical contact. Issues like how hard and how many are important only in regard to meeting our own individual needs. What is insufficient for one person may be excessive for another. While it can be interesting and fun to compare experiences with others, the details are often not as instructive as they might seem.

The key is to keep in mind what you hope to achieve through your spankings. If this subject is not a part of your discussions, it should be. Within these bounds, your feelings should guide you. There's nothing wrong with starting slowly. In fact, it's probably beneficial to enjoy each step along the path to a richer relationship. You can always turn up the intensity later.

With time, experience, and communication, your partner will learn what you like and where your limits lie. Considerable skill is required to visit those limits without violating them. The reward, however, for both participants, is well worth the effort.

In summary, here are some suggestions for finding your level:

• Know what you want
• Clearly communicate your needs
• Be open to experimentation
• Share your feelings
• Be willing to admit when things aren't working
• Use a safeword
• Learn from your experiences
• Don't blame your partner
• Recognize and respect your differences
• Celebrate your achievements
• Seek that which is truly valuable to you
• Don't be afraid to make it fun

Enjoy yourselves and happy spanking!

One More Survey

Since the last survey was so popular, I thought you might enjoy a follow-up question.

Bonnie's Spanking Survey (For Spankees Only Please)

Which of the following words best describes your emotional state immediately after your most recent spanking? Exhausted Exhilarated Aroused Humiliated Submissive Relieved Relaxed Grateful Current Results

Walking and Chewing Gum

For your reading pleasure, here's another story from the vault...

Last week, Randy's work schedule and my monthly conspired to keep things pretty sedate. Then came the weekend. Ah, the weekend! That delightful oasis in time. That unique but all too brief opportunity to ignore the demands of a busy world. Rest, relaxation, and romping! Well, forget the weekend too. Randy had to go in to work most of the day on Saturday. Then we had tickets to the theatre. I enjoyed the play, but I'd rather have been playing. On Sunday, I had promised a friend I would cover her booth at an arts festival 100 miles away (what was I thinking?). It was soooo hot and humid inside that tent. When I finally got home around 8:30, I was way too tired and miserable to do anything but shower and go to bed. Which brings us to today. As I was getting dressed for work this morning, Randy mentioned that he thought it was about time for a spanking. He must have sensed how frustrated I was. I replied "Promise?" with a hopeful tone in my voice. He told me I could count on it. Shivers of delighted anticipation went down my spine at the sound of his voice and the sight of the gleam in his eye. All day long I could think of nothing else. Somehow, I managed to make it through the day. I came home as usual a couple of hours before Randy. This gave me time to catch up on electronic correspondence and wonder about my spanking. I guess I did a little housework, but I was just killing time. At long last, I heard the garage door open. Moments later, my Prince Charming came bounding up the steps from the basement. I greeted him with that kiss that says "Let's go right now." He returned my enthusiasm by following me up to the bedroom (he says he lets me go first because it's chivalrous; I think he just likes to look at my derriere). When we got upstairs, he proceeded to undress me - completely. He next paid special attention to my breasts. A few well-placed love nips had me panting with desire. Now things were moving along nicely. Next, Randy sat on the floor, cross-legged, with his back against the wall. He called me over to him. He had me straddle him facing the wall with my arms in front of me. As I leaned forward, so did he. When his experienced mouth made contact with the most sensitive part of my anatomy, I shuddered with excitement. How well he knows me. About the time I started to get deeply involved in the proceedings, he pulled away long enough to reach over and grab a big wooden salad spoon (which he no doubt stashed after I left this morning). As his mouth returned to work on the front of me, that spoon undertook its mission at the back. He did a fine job on both counts. He's so coordinated! I finally reached the point where my legs became too wobbly to stand. He helped me over to the bed, and across his lap. I figured he was going to really let me have it then, but mostly he didn't. Slowly, he rubbed that long, hardwood spoon along the surface of my smarting bottom. Every so often, he would punctuate the rubbing with a sharp smack. Meanwhile, I was still incredibly revved up. I asked, "Are you going to finish this or just play around?" It didn't take long to get my answer. He slid me off of his lap, walked into the bathroom, and returned with the heavy hairbrush. Ominously, he slapped it against the palm of his hand a couple times. Uh oh. "Is this what you want?" he asked as he pulled me back across his lap. Now, did I really want to take that nasty hairbrush across my already crimson, stinging cheeks? I decided that I would be disappointed later if I chickened out. So I said, "OK." "OK?" Randy asked, "That doesn't sound very eager to me." So there I was, over his lap, bare bottom pointed at the ceiling, forced to beg for the hairbrush. I did. That hairbrush can really exact a toll. He didn't swat me that many times, but his aim was superb and his velocity was fierce. When he finished, he rolled me over without so much as a chance to catch my breath. The sex that followed was fast and passionate. I didn't know which end was up (but I definitely knew which end was sore). Wow, that man has what I need. It's all over now. I feel contented, loved, satisfied, fulfilled, and just plain old happy. I'm also sitting on two pillows. I wouldn't have it any other way!

Keywords: spanking, erotic spanking, spanking stories

Fortune Cookie

The Ghost of Spankings Past

When I look back upon my youth, it’s little wonder I became a hard core spanko. In those days, spanking references were absolutely everywhere. Here are some examples that fueled my childhood fantasies:

• Story books often included spankings. Corporal punishment was presented as the inevitable consequence of a kid doing something wrong. Some books even included details about the actual spanking! I recall that my second grade reader in school featured a lead character who was spanked at one point. Even then, I was fascinated by the subject. I reread that paragraph at least one hundred times.



• Real life was little different. I was routinely spanked as a kid. So were most of my friends. It was common to walk through the neighborhood during the summer when windows were open and hear some kid getting her bottom smacked. Many schools still had (and used) the paddle. Time-outs hadn’t been invented yet.



• Cartoons on television provided a nearly endless supply of spanking material. Tom and Jerry, in particular, tended to feature swats with various implements. Foghorn Leghorn used a paddle-like board to spank his rival, the dog. Numerous other cartoons portrayed children being spanked, again as the unquestioned outcome of misbehavior.
  
  I fantasized for years about a Flintstones episode where Wilma and Betty were paddled by Fred and Barney and their Water Buffalo lodge buddies. Afterwards, Wilma and Betty rubbed their bottoms and discussed how painful it was to sit. In my daydreams, I wondered what it would be like if I were to take that paddling.



• Other TV shows fed my youthful obsession. Many people recall that Desi Arnez spanked Lucy on television, but did you know that Gidget (played by a young and perky Sally Field) was bent over the counter and spanked repeatedly by her sister and her husband? The best part was that Gidget didn’t seem all that upset.
  
  I remember the two boys on the Flipper show riding their bikes with white bed pillows on the seats because they had been spanked. Then there was the Beverly Hillbillies. Every week, Granny threatened to “whup” Jethro. Occasionally, she actually did it.

Maybe it’s just my twisted mind or faded memory, but it certainly seems as though I grew up in a spanking world. The comparatively few spanking references in our culture today are inevitably sexualized in a way that these old ones weren’t. I think it’s a positive development that many parents have found more constructive ways to instruct their children. At the same time, I miss those spanking references. Even forty years later, these memories can still press my buttons.

Keywords: spanking, spanking memories

The Silent Treatment

I found this story in the archive and thought you might like it.

Randy and I are quite fond of live theater. We attend a number of performances in our town every year. We also escape when we can for a long weekend at a theater festival. Last weekend was one such pilgrimage. We visited a Shakespeare festival about four hours from our home. Randy purchased the tickets many months in advance so we could get good seats for the most popular performances. He selected a quaint little bed and breakfast establishment just a block from the festival. This promised to be a fun adventure.

After dropping off our daughter at my mom’s house, we headed out on Friday morning. It was great to be out on the road early in the day and heading toward a weekend of pure leisure. I recall remarking to Randy that these days are the reason we drag ourselves out of bed and go to work every morning. The summer sun was already shining brightly. The blue sky was dotted with just a few stray cotton ball clouds. It was a delightfully scenic drive. I remember fondly the taste of the coffee and how relaxed I felt riding down that pleasant byway beside my sweet husband.

Upon arrival, we checked into our room. Did I mention this establishment bills itself as quaint? In this instance, quaint translated into charming, but cramped. Our room was one of four on the upper floor of an old former single family residence. It had been nicely redone, complete with antique furniture and new plumbing. We walked into the room, looked around, shut the door, and then embraced. We made it! It was vacation time, or at least as close as we could get in three days.

The next sound we heard was a conversation in one of the adjacent rooms. A man and a woman were talking in a normal speaking voice and we could hear every word. I looked at Randy and he peered back at me. He spoke first, but said precisely what I was thinking. “So much for privacy…” Discrete lovemaking would likely be a challenge, let alone any of his percussive pastimes.

No sooner had I contemplated the possibility of a tame vanilla weekend than Randy exploded that thought. He ripped the spread off of our bed and tossed it on the floor nearby. I was intrigued. His fertile mind was obviously hard at work. “Lose those pants and lie on the bedspread.” For lack of a better idea, I complied. The space between the bed and the wall was only about three feet wide. I thought I had a pretty good idea of what he was planning, but no idea how he might pull it off.

As I lay on the floor, I could hear my lover digging in his suitcase. When he returned, he brought two scarves. The first he used to blindfold me. Gently, he guided me to the floor, face down. Rather than lying parallel to the bed, he arranged me so that my legs were extended all the way under the antique bed and my head was close to the wall. He placed a fluffy pillow under my chin. Next, I learned what he had planned for the second scarf. Randy took one of my wrists in each of his hands and brought them together behind my back. There, he bound them with the scarf. At this moment, I realized that I was pinned beneath the bed and totally immobilized!

Randy knelt next to me and placed his hand upon my bottom. “There’s no use struggling,” he said almost in a whisper. “You’ll be here until I decide to set you free.” I nearly panicked, but the smooth tone of his voice and his assured manner allowed me to remain calm. Then my man was gone. I heard him walk away, but I knew neither where nor why. It was probably only five minutes, but it seemed like an eternity there in the dark on the floor.

My next sensation was an incredibly sharp pain across both sides of my rear. Then it struck again, and yet a third time. I couldn’t determine what kind of implement he was using, but he’d managed to find or invent something that made almost no noise. It felt like a whippy sort of cane. Only later did I learn that my innovative partner had removed the draw rod from the window blinds and was using it to beat my backside. My goodness it hurt! Again and again, I jumped each time the thin rod shocked my skin. I buried my face in the pillow so as to not break the silence. Had I been capable of escaping, I might have done so. But wedged as I was, this was simply not a possibility. I was down there for the duration of whatever stinging strokes Randy chose to mete out.

I recall Randy saying something about making this spanking one to remember, but I was too absorbed in what he was doing to my hindquarters to pay much attention to his words. Just when I thought he might slow down, he lit into my glowing tail with renewed vigor.

When he did finally cease fire, he left me in my horizontal predicament and gently caressed my shoulders and arms. It felt so incongruous that he was now my tender lover, even as I lay still bound and beaten. I could almost feel the welts raising at the burning site of his recent attention. Yet, here he was touching and kissing. When his lips and tongue reached my seared left buttock, I neared leapt out of my skin. He gave it a light slap with his hand. Then he repeated the gesture on the opposite side. Randy then alternated rubbing, slapping, and smooching in a rhythm than soon had my hips rocking (as much as they could under the circumstances).

When Randy was convinced he had me in the proper frame of mind, he liberated my body from its confinement by the bed. He freed my arms, but left the blindfold in place. He helped me onto the bed where I instinctively spread my limbs in anticipation of his approach. This time, I didn’t have to wait. My lover was quickly upon me and within me.

I have no idea whether any of the other guests heard my spanking, but I have to imagine they all learned way too much about the celebration that followed. I tend to be a bit expressive at such moments and even my best efforts to stifle it were only moderately successful. What can I say? I’m just addicted to joy.

After we finished our interlude, I found myself in the bathroom twisting my head to assess the damage in the small mirror over the sink. That little rod left some nasty marks. Still, the sight of my husband’s crimson handiwork served to turn me on all over again.

I wore those welts to the evening’s performance. In fact, I squirmed in my seat for the rest of the weekend. The tingle, the burn, the ache, and the itch each worked to keep me focused upon satisfying my man. It seemed his hands were on my body most of time. I served and I serviced, all in the name of love.

We received some quizzical looks when we came down to breakfast on Saturday morning, but no one mentioned what they might have heard.

The rest of the trip was delightful. The Bard was in fine form and his players did justice to his works. We enjoyed a couple of truly superb meals, including a memorable trip to a winery and gourmet restaurant. It was a very special weekend. Randy even figured out how to reattach that rod to the blinds (He said if he couldn’t fix it, he might have to bring it home!).

I simply adore these mini-vacation getaways.

Keywords: spanking, vacation spanking, spanking stories

The Bag O' Tricks

Whenever we travel together, Randy brings along what he calls his "Bag O' Tricks." This is a small case that contains all the tools and supplies necessary for festive fun on the road.

I thought it might be fun to give you a tour of the current contents:

     (2) tubes of lubricant

     (1) hand towel

     (1) wooden hairbrush

     (3) sturdy scarves

     (2) pens

     (1) small flashlight

     (1) pack of tissues

     (1) leather slapper

     (1) box of condoms

     (1) bottle of massage oil

     (1) blindfold

     (1) empty plastic spray bottle

     (1) butt plug

     (1) bottle of bubble bath

     (2) vibrators

     (1) small notepad

     (1) tube of aloe vera moisturizer

     (1) wooden teardrop paddle

     (1) box of wipes

     (1) pack of batteries

Randy used to be a boy scout. He still strives to be prepared for anything.

I'll leave as a fun exercise for the reader to imagine how he might employ these items (hint: not necessarily always in the obvious manner!).

Our next weekend escape is only ten days away. Here's hoping he'll be even better prepared by then!

Keywords: spanking accessories

Yet Another Survey

Bonnie's Spanking Survey (For Spankees Only Please)

Which of the following words best describes your emotional state immediately prior to your most recent spanking? Excited Worried Aroused Annoyed Afraid Pleased Embarrassed Regretful Current Results

Monday Morning Musings

Once in while, I get to thinking.

	S	pankings delayed are spankings denied
	P	addles improve attitude
	A	rnica and aloe are good for paddle burns
	N	ice girls get spanked too
	K	eep love at the center of your relationship
	I	t's better to take an undeserved spanking than to miss a deserved one
	N	o spanking is worse than living with guilt and emotional hurt
	G	reat sex begins with great spankings

The Business Woman's Special

Here's a memory from my greatest hits collection

It's been another hectic week around here. Randy's project is due on Tuesday and his team has been working all kinds of hours trying to beat the clock. Consequently, our playtime has been extremely limited. Worse yet, he has started to return to his nocturnal habits. It seems as though the only time I see him awake during the week is late in the evening. By yesterday, I could tell that I needed to do something to break this cycle.

I planned to drive over to our daughter's school at lunch to pay a fee and sign some papers. It’s hard to believe the summer is almost over. I decided while I was there, why not stop at home and sneak in a lunch with Randy? Thursday night, I told him of my plan. He said that sounded like a good idea and promised to be awake.

After a fairly routine visit to the school, I returned home. True to his word, Randy was awake and dressed. Our daughter, I learned, had actually gotten out of bed and went to visit a friend (she usually takes after Randy when it comes to sleep schedule). Now, here was a golden opportunity. I gathered that Randy recognized this too when he motioned me to follow him upstairs.

"This has to be quick. I need to be back at work by one o’clock" I said. Randy smiled and replied "I don't think it will take too long." With that, he retrieved the sorority paddle from our toy drawer. He just looked at me as if anticipating my next move. Well, I wasn't going to pass up this kind of chance. I started to unzip my dress. As I did, he gently put his hand around mine. "You don't have time for that, Bon. Just pull it up," he said. Good idea. I hiked up my dress and slip. He pulled down my underwear and pantyhose to my mid-thighs. Again in the name of saving time, I positioned myself standing on the floor, bent over, with my forearms on the bed. Randy flipped up the dress and slip so I could support myself with both arms. He told me my bottom looked especially beautiful framed in this way.

As soon as I took my position, he took his, a couple feet to my left. He then let the paddle fly. It slammed into both of my cheeks simultaneously. The swat sounded like a gunshot and stung like crazy. I was so surprised! He usually takes one practice swing to judge distance and aim or whatever. Under ideal conditions, I seldom get much of a warm-up. On this occasion, it was obvious he was giving his best effort from the first stroke. Again the long paddle hit its mark. I was yowling already, but I resisted the temptation to jump up and do the old hop and rub two-step (this particular dance is familiar to anyone who gets paddled). In all, I think I took about ten hard whacks.

When he stopped, I started to get up. "Wait" Randy said, "We're not quite done yet." He tossed the paddle on the bed and grabbed our wooden dogleg hairbrush. Usually, he explained, he selects one implement and completes the entire job with it. In this case, however, we were short on time so special techniques were required. I didn't understand that rationalization, but he didn't give me much time to consider it. If the paddle worked with a methodical pile driver pace, he applied the hairbrush in just the opposite fashion. He worked quickly, alternating between striking all over my bottom in a seemingly random pattern and then delivering eight or ten quick ones all in one place. Coming immediately after an intense paddling, the hairbrush created a sizzling burn each time it forcefully made contact with my skin. Wild carnal thoughts flashed through my mind. I may have been dressed for business, but I was primed for pleasure. When he finally stopped, I was astonished at how sore I was. He had definitely concentrated his efforts on my sit surfaces. Ouch! If nothing else, Randy demonstrated that he can deliver a very efficient spanking.

I wanted to jump him, but Randy reminded me that I was fifteen minutes from work and it was 12:45. Alas, he was right. I had to leave. I took a few minutes to rearrange myself and a moment more for a big kiss from my dear husband. This was the kind of a kiss that was both a celebration of times past and a suggestion of events to come. It reminded me that the best part of our routine would have to wait for later. I asked him to promise me that he'd be home at decent hour. He said he understood that we weren't finished. With that assurance, out the door I went.

Traffic was light and I made it to work only about five minutes late. No one noticed. It had been a long time since I last went to work with my bottom this freshly warmed. It didn't take long to figure out that my office chair was not my friend on this afternoon. On the other hand, I work as a technical writer. It's my job to sit at the computer all day. Let me tell you, I spent most of the afternoon visiting the vending machines, the water fountain, co-workers, and any other destination that didn't involve sitting. Fortunately, I didn't have any meetings scheduled. At long last, the day was over and I left for home.

Randy came home about 8:30 and he was determined to finish what he had started at lunchtime. When he got home, his first question concerned the whereabouts of our daughter. I told him I had given her money and sent her out to a movie with her friend. She wouldn't be home for at least an hour. We ran up the stairs and into our bedroom.

Not wanting to delay the proceedings, I stripped completely naked. Randy sat on the bed and placed me across his lap. I feel so comfortable and at home in that position. I feel as though his upper legs were designed for my torso. Again, he applied the hairbrush, although not so fast or hard as before. Given the condition of my bottom, it didn't need to be. He punctuated his assault with short breaks to attend to my sexual interest (at this point, I was about as interested as I could possibly be). After a while, we finished this diversion in favor of more immediate concerns. I gave him my special kiss and he tickled my fancy. Then with Randy on his back, I straddled him. While we made love, he grabbed my throbbing cheeks and squeezed them. It felt like being spanked all over again, only better. I lost all semblance of control. It was so warm, so tingly, and so intimate.

Later, as we sat and watched some mindless movie on cable, our daughter came home. She said with a concerned tone, "You two look tired. Maybe you're working too hard." I assured her we were fine (we are now anyway!).

I'm still coping with a lot of posterior discomfort today, but I don't mind a bit. Who knows, maybe this weekend holds another adventure. Randy's back at work, but says he'll be home for dinner. Here's hoping the main course is me!

Keywords: spanking, quickie spanking, spanking stories

Leap of Faith

Late yesterday evening, Randy decided that I needed a stress relief spanking. I could hardly argue. It was a challenging week at work and I was worried about an event we are attending tonight. Unlike many of the spankings at our house, stress relief spankings are definitely not all fun. We both know that to be effective, a stress relief spanking needs to be pretty severe. I have no idea why a few well placed swats doesn’t have the same restorative effect, but that’s just not how it works.

He sent me upstairs to our bedroom with instructions to strip and lie face down on the bed. I followed his commands to the letter. As I was quickly undressing, I both dreaded the pain and hopefully anticipated the spiritual liberation that follows.

No sooner had taken my position than my man appeared in the doorway. When he spoke, his tone was direct, but sympathetic. “Let’s take care of this, honey.” He approached me and began to massage my back. I was so nervous that I jumped at his touch. His hands were reassuring, but I too wanted to get past the hard part.

After a minute or two of rubbing, I felt a very different sensation. His gentle hand became suddenly rigid as it slapped my bottom for the first time. Again it fell upon the other side. The swats were hard, but not unpleasantly so. Soon, Randy adopted a familiar alternating rhythm. It dawned upon me that he was actually giving me a warm-up. I had long suspected the man had never heard of the concept, but here it was.

After about five minutes of these purposeful hand spanks, my bottom felt toasty warm. It had that nice sting too. On another night, this might have been a fine prelude to coital bliss. But I knew that he knew that I needed something more. Fortunately or unfortunately, he didn’t make me wait long.

“We’re going to try something new tonight.” Randy declared. This statement momentarily replaced my concern with curiosity. What could he possibly do to me that we haven’t already tried twice? Before I could formulate a theory, he produced a bungee cord. It wasn’t the kind people use to jump off of cliffs (though I would indeed soon be jumping). This bungee was the short variety used for securing objects in transit. This novel implement, I thought, could be real trouble.


Randy folded the cable in half with the hook-ends in his hand. He placed his left hand upon the center of my lower back, presumably to brace me for the imminent onslaught. Snap! The bungee loop bit into my skin with a ferocious burn. Before I could recover, it hit again. After four or five of these flaming attacks, I became frantic. This was more than I could handle. The pain was intense and escalating. Randy, to his credit, held me down and persevered. I knew I needed a spanking, just not this spanking. Had I been allowed to escape, I might have done so. In all, I probably absorbed twenty blows from the cord before Randy deemed my spanking to be sufficient. Yeow! I don’t doubt neighbors two blocks away heard my wails.

When it was all over, Randy held me close as I buried my face in his chest. He had hurt me, but he fixed me too. My spirit was now light. The weight of the world was gone. I had the overwhelming sensation of relief and freedom. For whatever reason, I started to giggle. I imagine Randy thought I was insane, but it was a natural expression of my delight.

We made tender love under the covers. He was so sweet and gentle with me. It amazes me sometimes this one man can play so many different roles in my life. Everyday, I am grateful for his love, his guidance, his insight, his imagination, his mind, and of course, his body. I am totally his, but he is also mine. It’s a fine arrangement.

When we finished, I got out of bed to use the bathroom. As I walked away, Randy nervously said, “Um, Bon, you probably ought to take a peek in the mirror.” When I did, I saw as nasty a collection of bottom marks as I can remember. I had crescent-shaped welts all over. They were the color of the page you are now reading! As I ran my hand over them, I could feel how the skin was noticeably raised. Even a light touch brought back the intense burning sensation. Ouch!

This morning, those marks have faded some, but they are still quite evident. What’s worse is the fact that they burn, itch, and ache all at once! I really got the works last night. On the positive side of the ledger, I’m smiling today and my cares have been banished to a place far away.

Randy fussed over me a bit this morning. He was afraid that he had overdone it. I will admit my derriere feels a tad overdone, but he knew precisely what I needed and gave it to me. For that, I am most thankful.

Keywords: spanking, erotic spanking, spanking stories

Thank You!

In the past thirteen days, you've visited this blog ten thousand times. From sixty countries on five continents you arrive here. I am truly amazed by this response. The undeniable fact is that there are lots of us who simply enjoy a good spanking.

I imagine many of you came here seeking a romantic spanking story. I sincerely hope you found it. The good news is that I have plenty more to share, both past and present. If you keep stopping by, I'll continue to post! I have a couple of new things I want to try in the coming weeks, so stay tuned.

In the meantime, I'm glad you're here. Thanks!

Catching a Wave

The year was 1983. I was the harried young mother of an active toddler. Randy was glad to have landed a computer programming job at a whopping ten dollars per hour. I was working as much as I could, doing freelance writing out of our home. Spanking and sex had become little more than treasured memories from our golden past. They were gone forever, or so it often seemed. I was both physically tired and tired of being mommy all of the time. With Randy working over 50 hours a week, we both needed a break.

We hadn't enjoyed much of a honeymoon when we were married a few years before. Money woes greatly constrained our love for travel. Finally, we decided we needed the big vacation. Randy, planner that he is, mapped out an intricate itinerary. I was ready for anything, anywhere, so long as it got me away from that house. My mother agreed to watch our adorable junior terrorist. We were all set.

The trip was all we dreamed and more. We visited many different sights. The natural beauty of mountains, beaches, rivers, lakes, forests, and waterfalls was unbelievably spectacular. However, the most vivid memory for me happened indoors.

We stayed at a lodge up in the mountains. Randy booked a fancy suite. The guy had taste, even then. One of the big attractions was a waterbed. I had never slept on one, but I was perfectly willing to test it out. Did we ever!

On the night we arrived, we were a bit tired from our long trip, but definitely not too tired to take full advantage of this unique opportunity to be alone and uninterrupted. After some smooching and caressing, we settled down onto the bed. Our hands worked quickly to remove clothes and become intimately reacquainted. As we progressed toward what seemed to be a delightful lovemaking session, Randy suddenly sprang from the bed as if struck with an irresistible idea. I knew better than to try to stop this inspiration.

Randy ran to the living room and quickly returned with a big vinyl beanbag chair. He sat in the middle of the bed with his legs crossed. Then he placed the beanbag chair atop his lap. He had me straddle him facing away. This wasn't easy at all on a waterbed. Slowly, he helped me down onto the beanbag. Once in position, my face was down on the bed, my bottom was way up in the air, and my legs were spread wide. Between them was my loving husband. This predicament gave a whole new meaning to the phrase "assume the position."

Randy began playfully drumming on my jutting bottom with his open hands. It didn't hurt too much at first. In fact, it was fun. He pounded out a number of familiar rhythms. I distinctly recall the drum line from the Fleetwood Mac song "Tusk." Slowly, he increased the intensity. As he drummed, the bed rocked in time. I have no idea how long the spanking lasted, but I was definitely loving every swat. This was what I had been missing all those lonely months. I was a sexual being again. I was a woman in love.

Despite my healthy glow, Randy's hand gave out before my bottom did (I recall we purchased a plastic hairbrush the next day). That was fine because he leaned forward and followed the spanking with some skillful oral gratification for me. I completely lost it! I know I must have been screaming. I was just incredibly turned on and his mouth and fingers felt so wonderful.

Once I extricated myself from that awkward position, I returned the favor. He too found his excitement barely controllable. We were like wild animals suddenly released from a constricted cage. Moments later, he positioned me against the beanbag, face up this time. There we made love and reached an explosive crescendo amongst the waves.

This experience was an oasis in the desert. That era holds relatively few memorable spankings. But the vacation will always be special for us. We rediscovered our love and our sexual hunger. Both remain quite healthy to this day.

Keywords: spanking, erotic spanking, spanking stories

Getting to the Seat of the Problem

Here's a favorite spanking memory.

Because of a pressing project deadline, Randy had to go into work on Saturday. He promised me he would be home at a decent hour (just what that means is anyone's guess, but I hoped for the best). Despite the fact that I had been spanked twice on Friday, I was ready for action again by Saturday evening. It must be PMS.

Sure enough, he strolled in just in time for dinner. He was tired. I could tell. Was he too tired to attend to my needs? Was I too considerate to inquire? Would he resist my overtures? You know by now I wouldn't have a story if all these answers weren't no. Our daughter had asked if she could sleep over at her best friend's house. By this time, she was long gone. After dinner, Randy settled in front of the television set watching some sort of sporting event (I think it was football). I had my chance, but I figured I would have to convince him.

I slipped upstairs and put on a short white translucent nylon nightgown with an infamous pink thong underneath. I could think of no outfit that screamed “spank me and make love to me” any louder. To finish the look, I picked up the wooden hairbrush that had such a positive effect on my spirits the day before. Now, I was ready to make my pitch.

I sneaked back down the stairs and peeked around the corner. I saw my beloved husband, seated motionless in his recliner, looking pretty much zoned out. For a brief instant, I considered giving up my plan in favor of a more sedate pastime. As I often do at times like this, I decided I had already committed within my own mind to ask for what I wanted. The worst he could say was “no thanks.” If he did, we'd still love each other and I'd get that hairbrush another day.

I strolled into the center of the room with my arms outstretched as if to say, "Here I am." I smiled and said, "Hi, Honey" in a small voice. To my delight, he perked up immediately. With a broad grin, he stood up and said, "Come here." He led me over to the couch. He sat down and helped me down into the classic over-the-knee spanking position. My bottom was completely exposed. Randy then asked in an inquiring tone "Am I to assume you think I should swat your bottom with that hairbrush?" "Yes," I replied "I want you to spank me hard. I need it and I deserve it" "OK, OK" he said. "I get it. Now you're going to get it. Obviously I didn't finish the job yesterday. I'm going to make absolutely certain you won't feel a need to bring me that hairbrush again tomorrow." With that he snatched the implement from my hand. Perhaps, I thought, my sales job was a little too good.

I thought the spanking would begin then, but it didn't. "Let's make no mistake about what's happening here, Bon" he continued. "You just asked me to give you a hard spanking. That's exactly what you are about to get. No fooling around. No stopping. This is business." I love it when he talks like that. There was definitely no turning back now.

Smack! My wandering mind was quickly returned to the subject at hand. He was swinging with authority, alternating sides, but concentrating on my sit-spot. Wow, that hairbrush really stings! It was all that I asked for and more than I expected. The heat grew steadily and the spanking went on. I yelped and yipped and the spanking went on. I wriggled in acute discomfort and the spanking went on. The swats came fast and hard. Would he ever give up? Eventually, he did.

As I lifted myself off his lap, the severity of this session began to settle in. I was a little dizzy, no doubt from hyperventilating. My bottom was absolutely burning. Just to punctuate what had just transpired, Randy patted my rear a couple of times with his hand. Even that hurt more than I would have ever believed. Then we embraced. Mmmmmm. I love him. Even though he was tired, he took good care of me. Boy, did he take care of me! We made gentle, cozy love in our bed later. It was so pleasant and relaxing. All my cares evaporated.

As it turned out, he was right. I may have thought about spankings today, but I sure wasn't inclined to volunteer for one. Even this evening, sitting remains a bit dicey. I guess that attests to his skill with the hairbrush. I may be very sore, but I also feel very satisfied.

Keywords: spanking, hairbrush spanking, spanking stories

Quiz: What Kind of Spanko Am I?

Thanks to Invidia at The Collar Purple for this entertaining little quiz.


What kind of spanko are you?
brought to you by Quizilla

Two's Wild (Conclusion)

Following our afternoon romp, Randy was quite content remaining in bed. I wasn't. I felt compelled, for whatever the reason, to get up and get going. As I emerged from the bed, he told me that this was just a down payment. I would receive my "real" spanking later. From my perspective, on the wide side of the paddle, what we had just finished certainly felt like the genuine article. As my hands involuntarily gravitated toward the punished region, the residual ache vividly reminded me of recent events. I considered taunting him, but my last remaining shred of rationality squelched the idea.

Later in the afternoon, I answered some e-mail and made an attempt at some housework. Just before dinner, our daughter returned home. She told me about her day. She and two friends planned to go to the movie theater after dinner. When I asked her when she planned to return, she said about eleven. I now knew that my dear spouse would not possess merely the means and the motive on this magical night, but also the opportunity! My glowing derriere would soon absorb another round of painful swats.

After dinner was done and our dear daughter was happily on her way, I was tidying up in the kitchen. All at once, that sixth sense told me that someone was watching me. I turned slowly to discover I was correct. Peering from around a corner was my Prince Charming, beaming from ear to ear. He said not a word but beckoned me closer with a crooked forefinger. Never let it be said that I don't appreciate a good surprise. I answered his voiceless call.

Randy led me up the stairs to our bedroom. Still no word was spoken. He knelt down and removed first one sandal and then the other. Standing up, my top was the next article of clothing to disappear. Silently and adeptly, he slid my skirt to the floor. He reached behind me to unfasten my bra. He looped his fingers under each strap and gently moved his hands across my shoulders and down each arm. I felt as though this was a strip show where I was both the star and the audience.

Randy then kissed me in the center of my chest. He worked his way downward, smooching all the while. When he reached the waistband of my underwear, he opened his mouth and took the cotton fabric in his teeth. I gasped with delight as he applied his unconventional tactic to liberate this last garment. As my panties fell, so did the last of my inhibitions.

Next, he collected all of our bedroom pillows and piled them in the center of the bed. Without prompting, I positioned myself atop this tower of tanning. As is customary, I lay face down with the pillows beneath my hips. My bottom was perfectly arranged as the center of attention that it was about to become.

As I waited in that incredibly receptive position, I could hear Randy gathering the toys. I tried in vain to discern which items he was assembling. I would just have to wait and learn. My first revelation didn't take long. He took hold of my wrist and carefully wrapped a pair of my old pantyhose around it. He tied a knot thus securing it. The other end he tied to the headboard. I knew this game! When he came to the second wrist, I offered it willingly. After completing his work at the head of the bed, he immobilized my legs in similar fashion. I wasn't going anywhere!

For me, part of the thrill of a spanking is the idea of loaning my control to the man I love. On those occasions we play with restraint, it carries this emotion to another level. There I was, situated in the most vulnerable position imaginable, unable to move, and completely at the whim of my husband. Did I despair? Not a chance. I knew I could trust Randy to protect me.

Now, at last, he spoke. "Well, well, well. Look at this. A king could ask for no better reward." His voice held a swagger. "I believe you're in for the full treatment tonight, Missy. Yes, indeed." The next sound I heard was the telltale buzzing of a vibrator. Soon, I was greeted by the sensation of that throbbing phallus upon a very sensitive spot. Randy teased me with the toy for several minutes before finally finding a home for it. It was as though my whole body was now buzzing.

Just when I started to float into that magical land of bliss, a sharp crack brought me back down onto the bed. It was the slapper. The slapper is a small, semi-rigid leather paddle. It works right at the skin level to generate a bright crimson glow and a marvelous sting. Randy applied it with gusto. All the while, his free hand continued to control the piston-like toy. It took very little of this combination to trigger a breathless climax.

As I struggled to regain my wits, the slapper continued its relentless assault on my burning seat. Randy has said many times that a spanking isn't worthwhile if the recipient can sit comfortably a day later. He aced his own test on Saturday night. As he bore down and spanked harder, I pulled and tugged against my bonds. There could be no escape for me.

"Stick it up, Bon!" Randy commanded. Obediently, I thrust my bottom upward to accept its fate. My twin targets received another full measure of the stinging leather implement. "You love your spankings, don't you?" His tone demanded an answer. A feeble "yes" was all I could muster. "You deserve every single whack, don't you?" Again I quietly responded in the affirmative. As if spurred by my agreement, he renewed his efforts, concentrating on my unfortunate lower slopes.

When he finished, I felt relieved. This game was fun, but it was a lot more than I expected. Randy tossed the slapper and freed my legs. He then lowered himself on top of me. By this time, we were both truly aroused. The way I was lying over the pillows brought him in direct contact with my stinging behind each time he moved forward. The two contrasting sensations blended in a delicious corporeal parfait. He too obviously enjoyed the proceedings. Our trip to the pinnacle was very intense!

Afterward, we snuggled in bed. He gently stroked my hair as we embraced. I felt so warm, so safe, and so loved there in his arms. I also felt grateful for having met a man who can so completely satisfy my soul. I nestled my head into his strong chest. Who needs a plane to visit paradise? In truth, it lives within each of us. Our partners possess a special gift for bringing it to the surface. I told Randy that I was ready to take that trip anytime!

Keywords: spanking, paddling, spanking stories