Make Mine Well Done

Man Oh Man. What did I *think* would happen after I posted a silly poem that repeated the phrase “spank me” exactly 27 times? I wanted a spanking. No question. I asked for it. I told the whole wide world. There’s no denying that. There’s also no denying the fact that my dear spouse reads this blog. He has no patience for what he calls the “idle chit-chat” of the blogging world, but he does read my posts. What’s more, he takes seriously his role as chief spanker in this house. I meant the poem as lighthearted fun. Randy took issue with the implication that he had been neglecting his solemn duties. Last night, he rectified the situation. I knew I was in for it when he called from work and asked me about my poem. I mumbled something about early morning and having fun and the blog before he stopped me. “When I get home from work tonight, I intend to deal with this matter in the traditional fashion.” Ooo. I love it when he talks likes that. As Spanko Girl might say, it makes me all swoony. “Prior to my arrival, I expect you to pull down your pants and bend over the back of the couch. That wooden hairbrush should be close at hand.” I shuddered with multiple emotions – thrill, dread, anticipation, fear, arousal, submission, and perhaps a couple more for which I don’t have convenient names. This would surely be a spanking to remember. I spent the next few hours working hard at nothing. I visited blogs and answered some mail messages. All the while, my mind was on the hairbrush resting upon the desk just a couple feet away from my bottom. This well-used spanking implement would soon, I imagined, come a whole lot closer. As my mind was drifting away, I detected the sound of a garage door opening. The time of reckoning had arrived. I rushed into the living room, bared my target as instructed, placed the fearsome brush beside me, and bent all the way over the back of the couch. I’m sure I waited no more than five minutes, but from my perspective over the couch, it seemed an eternity. As I lay in that embarrassing position, I found myself nervously examining a worn spot on one of the couch cushions. It is with dark irony that I mused that my own cushions would shortly look worn as well. I heard Randy bound up the steps and into the kitchen. I heard him take off his jacket. He then strode into the living room where I was on display, precisely as he directed. “Very good. I see you recognize that there is no sense in stretching this out. Now then, let’s get down to business.” My husband pulled from his shirt pocket a folded piece of paper. He opened the page and read from it. “Poem: Spank Me.” Uh oh. I could see where this discussion was headed. Randy picked up the infernal hairbrush and began to rub it against my exposed sit-spots. The polished wooden back felt cool and smooth. “Did you write this?” I briefly weighed offering a smart answer, but sanity prevailed. I nodded in the affirmative. The response I received was about six well-placed swats across my bottom. They felt like full strength and burned like a flame. I jerked, but stayed in place. Randy then proceeded to read each line of the poem, spanking as he went. By the time he got to the Burma Shave line, I was howling in acute discomfort. He gave my poor bottom a very thorough workout with that heavy wooden brush. It really, really hurt! The only words I could mange to get out were “Ow, ow, ow!” As quickly as it began, my spanking abruptly concluded. Randy lifted me off the couch back and embraced me with his strong arms. He was again my gentle lover. “Let’s go upstairs,” he whispered in my ear. Once we arrived, my remaining clothes and inhibitions were both quickly discarded. I rubbed his manly shaft between my tongue and palette. I licked, sucked, kissed, and fondled the cyclops until he fired his round down my eager throat. We then moved to the bed where my lover applied a blue torpedo-shaped vibrator to a most sensitive spot. When I achieved climax a few minutes later, I found myself screaming and shaking with delight. Now, that scratched my itch! After the fireworks ended, I found myself over Randy’s lap at the edge of the bed. This was a position in which I have been spanked countless times. On this occasion, however, no more spanking was forthcoming. Instead, Randy retrieved some cream from the nightstand and spread it thinly across my punished behind. The cream felt cool and good once it was applied, but the actual contact amplified the very evident after-burn. We retired soon thereafter. For the first time in a week, I enjoyed the sleep of the contented. In retrospect, I got precisely the spanking I requested. It also happened to be the spanking I deserved. In the future, I won’t hesitate to ask, but I might be a little bit more specific! All day today, I’ve carried around the unavoidable memory of this incredible spanking. Yes, sitting has been dicey, but the biggest change has been the spring in my step and the smile on my face. It’s been a good day!

Keywords: spanking, hairbrush spanking, spanking stories

Poem: Spank Me

I know it's pretty early for poetry, but I couldn't sleep.

Spank me when I lie in bed Spank me when I don’t Spank me when I talk too much Spank me so I won’t Spank me when I’m a good wife Spank me when I’m bad Spank me well my whole life Spank me ‘til I’m glad Spank me with your leather strap Spank me with your wood Spank me lying ‘cross your lap Spank me as you should Spank me when I’m a sweet gal Spank me when I bitch Spank me when I’m your best pal Spank me, scratch my itch Spank me on my rosy rump Spank me in the yard Spank me, I’ll try not to jump Spank me really hard Spank me in the upstairs hall Spank me in the dirt Spank me with toys big or small Spank me, make it hurt Spank me soundly through and through Spank me ‘cuz I’m brave There’s something that I need from you …and it’s not Burma Shave!

Keywords: spanking poetry

Spanking 101: Choose Your Implement

Most couples begin their spanking adventures using the implement that nature supplied us. The hand, quite conveniently, is the ideal first implement. It’s portable, difficult to lose, always ready, comparatively safe, and requires no cover story. Better still, a human hand is more intimate than any inanimate implement could ever be.

Unfortunately, hands are also delicate and ill-suited to administering severe spankings. Spanking implements spare the hand while treating the recipient’s bottom somewhat less charitably. For a serious spanking, an effective implement is a practical necessity. The purpose of this article is aid neophytes in the evaluation and selection of spanking implements.

As we consider implements, I believe it is important to recognize that there are few absolutes. Some implements tend to yield more severe damage than others. However, those same serious implements, in the proper hands, can be used to generate a very erotic effect. At the same time, even novelty spanking implements can be used to deliver a very serious spanking.

In addition, recipients vary in terms of their preferences and sensitivity. Their ability to absorb a spanking may depend upon many factors beyond the implement selected and the severity of the spanking. A responsible spanker will adjust his approach accordingly.

For the purpose of categorization, I divide implements based upon their flexibility and the sensation they produce (sting versus thud). A flexible implement is one that bends when it strikes the bottom. A belt is one example. The noise produced is a distinctive crack. It causes an intense burn. A rigid implement, such as a paddle, tends not to deform upon impact. Its impact makes a concussive thwack sound.

A stingy implement works primarily at the skin level to generate warmth, redness, and immediate discomfort. A thuddy implement, in contrast, works primarily upon deeper tissues causing a persisting ache and possibly bruising. By considering these two characteristics, we can classify spanking implements.


As you can see, common implements fit a wide assortment of situations and requirements. Here are my brief impressions of each of these implement types:

Cane: Very stingy and very effective. Can cause nasty skin damage if used carelessly or excessively.

Switch: The cane’s country cousin. The irregular surface makes cuts and abrasions even more likely.

Slapper: A small, thin leather paddle-like implement. Stiffer than a strap, but more flexible than a paddle. Leaves recipient’s bottom bright red and stinging. A personal favorite.

Belt: Can be glorious or hideous depending upon usage.

Strap: Many sizes with varying effectiveness. Mostly sting.

Single tail whip: Not for newbies. Can easily cut the skin. Serious marks.

Hairbrush: Classic domestic discipline implement. Good mix of sting and thud. Works well OTK. Plastic hairbrushes with rubber domes are useless for spanking. Look for solid wood.

Bathbrush: Similar to hairbrush, but longer handle generates a more intense strike.

Leather paddle: Different sizes and shapes available. Delicious blend of sting and thud.

Wooden paddle: Best thud. Various sizes yield different intensities and work in different positions. Be careful with holes.

Flogger: Can be light or heavy depending upon design. Nice change of pace.

There are few simple answers. The best way for couples to determine what works best for them is through experimentation. Start slow and build up the force gradually. During such tests, it is especially critical that the spanker be aware of his partner’s reactions and welfare. Once you are both familiar with an implement and the spankee’s reaction to it, the spanker can feel more free to swing away.

Have fun, but please be safe!

The Booty Girl Diaries

Here's another gem from the vault. This might just be the strangest story I have.

My husband, Randy, loves my bottom. He pays regular tribute to the twin globes upon which I sit. He spanks, spreads, soothes, rubs, kisses, whips, massages, manipulates, licks, paddles, penetrates, pats, kneads, beats, and bites. Whenever we’re together, his hands seem to inevitably find their way to my seat.

His attention doesn’t bother me in the least. In truth, I love it. After all these years, the fact that he still desires my body is a wondrous thing. Most amazing of all, he appreciates my womanly curves. I’m not a size six, nor will I ever be again. For good or for ill, Mother Nature (and motherhood) gave me a big backside. Randy, to his credit and my delight, wouldn’t have me any other way.

Randy’s posterior fascination took on a new character last weekend. We had dinner reservations and tickets to see Les Miserables Saturday night. This is one of my favorite musicals and I had been looking forward to this night for weeks. I spent most of the day working around the house. Around four, I went upstairs to prepare for our big night. I began by enjoying a relaxing and reinvigorating shower.

As I exited the bathroom, clad in only a towel, Randy met me in the bedroom. He embraced me briefly before silently guiding me to the bed. Before I had an opportunity to process what was happening, he positioned me bottom up across his lap. As soon as my tummy landed atop his thighs, my lover began to briskly smack my buttocks with his rigid hand. It hurt, but not unbearably so. In fact, once I regained my wits, I welcomed the warm sting he delivered.

My spanking continued for several more minutes. Randy’s technique was thorough, but loving. When he decided I had absorbed enough swats, he held me in place and started to rub. He squeezed my chastened cheeks while mixing in the occasional slap. Neither of us was surprised when his roaming digits encountered abundant dampness beneath the fire he had so expertly lit.

Needing no more encouragement, Randy flipped me onto my back, pulled me to the edge of the bed, separated my legs, and directed his affectionate mouth to my thrill spot. Within a couple of delightful minutes, I was bucking with orgasmic spasm. Wow!

Once I caught my breath, my lover turned me over and gently positioned me on hands and knees. There, at the edge of the bed, he forcefully took me from behind. Each time his abdomen made contact, I was reminded of the preceding spanking. This blend of sensations pushed me again into a panting climax. Randy soon found his own pleasurable release deep within me.

Afterward, we lay together on the bed with limbs interwoven. Some time later, Randy looked at clock and announced that our dinner reservations were in just one hour. I told him that, thanks to him, I needed another shower. He declared that the only way we could make it on time would be to shower together. I laughed, but went along with his thinly veiled scheme. The shower (my third of the day) was fun, in a sudsy sort of way. Randy couldn’t resist spanking me again. He claimed he liked the way it echoed.

We emerged from the bathroom clean and dry. I opened my dresser to retrieve my underwear and bra. Randy stopped me by exclaiming, “Wait!” and raising his hand. Here it comes, I thought. Randy produced a small box from a lower dresser drawer. From the box, he produced an odd undergarment and held it up. It looked like full cut boy-leg panties, but it appeared to be made of a rubberized material. “A girdle?” I asked incredulously. “Not exactly” he corrected. At that point, he turned the panty around to reveal the seat. I now recognized it as a figure enhancement garment, complete with two large bottom pads. This kind of underwear, I imagine, is worn by slender women who lack natural curves of their own. The thought of me wearing such a thing was ludicrous. I giggled at the thought. My bottom is plenty ample without any help at all. Randy encouraged me to try it on. I could tell from his giddy tone that he was thrilled by the prospect. Never one to suppress my lover’s fantasies, I stepped in and pulled up the strange girdle. The fit was tight, but tolerable. “Let’s see!” Randy urged with enthusiasm. I turned around to show him my new exaggerated curves. “Whoa! Move over J-Lo. You are positively booty-licious!” I hoped that was a compliment. His roaming hands assured me of his approval. I reminded my distracted husband that we still had a dinner reservation and finished getting dressed. After deciding that the dress I had planned to wear probably wouldn’t look right, I chose a pair of tan slacks and a black top instead. As I was applying my makeup, I couldn’t resist twisting around to see the source of all this fuss. I had to admit, from any angle, my bottom looked exceptionally round and full.

As we sat in the car, it became clear to me that wearing spandex underwear over a freshly spanked bottom was going to be an intense experience. Rather allowing the heat to dissipate as my regular cotton panties might, the fabric held it all in and concentrated it. It was like wearing pantyhose times ten. Having those pads in place also felt weird, but in time, I became used to it.

For dinner, we went to an excellent Greek restaurant. I simply had to order the spanakopitakia. These are little spinach pies. Randy chuckled and said he wanted “spankopedia” too. When he said that, I had to clap my hand over my mouth to avoid screaming in laughter. We later mused that “spankopedia” must be the first encyclopedia for spankos. The meal was wonderful and we thoroughly enjoyed it. After we left, Randy claimed that everyone in the place was staring at my posterior. I doubted that, but allowed that someone might have observed my unique anatomical peculiarity.

The performance was powerful and moving. Even though I had seen this musical several times before, I still cried at the end. The performers were very strong, especially the Jean Valjean and Javert characters. The songs are still running though my brain.

By the time we arrived home, I was ready to peel off the accursed padded panty. It had become uncomfortably hot. Randy had other ideas. He insisted that I model for him in our bedroom. As he snapped flash pictures, I was quite certain that I didn’t want to see the results, let alone anyone else. The whole while, he told me how beautiful he thought I looked.

After I got undressed, Randy held me closely in his arms. He thanked me profusely for playing along with his fantasy. I smiled and told him that I loved him. I explained that he has been fulfilling my dreams for the past twenty years. It seemed only fair to give him his night. I don’t fully comprehend his obsession, but I am nevertheless grateful for it.

Later, comfortable in our bed, we made gentle love in the dark. As if the ideal denouement, Randy finished the festivities by entering my anus. As he did so, he grasped and squeezed my orbs. I’m not a huge fan of anal sex, but on this occasion, it just felt right. I am quite certain that Randy agreed.

It was a great night. It was a strange night. It was one night in the life of a happily married couple.

Keywords: spanking, girdle spanking, big bottom

The Payoff

I mentioned last week a friendly wager between Randy and me. I bet him I could name fifty everyday items that he has adapted over the years for use as spanking implements. He thought about it for a moment and then dubbed the proposal preposterous. There was simply no way there could be fifty. He accepted my wager. The stakes, as you’ve probably guessed, involved spankings. If he won, he could paddle me silly with any piece of lumber he could manage to hoist to his shoulder. However, my reward, if I won, would be a first class good girl spanking with all the trimmings.

Well, I did name fifty and posted them here. There was some discussion about whether I could count both plastic hairbrush and wooden hairbrush. I pointed out that not only were these two separate implements, we’ve have a lot more than just a single wooden hairbrush over the years (in fact, we’ve broken more than one!). Eventually, Randy conceded that I did indeed have fifty legitimate examples.

Friday was our designated night. I had hinted earlier in the week that I expected something special. Actually, it wasn’t exactly a hint (because hints don’t register with most guys). It was perhaps more like a suggestion. Randy, true to form, played it cool. “As far as I’m concerned, you’re due to get your butt beat,” he said, sounding absolutely serious. You don’t live with someone for well over two decades without learning when they’re bluffing. He was bluffing, or at least so I hoped.

On Friday evening, I arrived home before him as usual. I puttered around with housework, answered some e-mail messages, and scanned my favorite blogs. There was no need for me to be nervous, but I was. This was supposed to be a spanking I wanted. This was my husband who I dearly love. Why on Earth should I feel so ambivalent about it? I had, at that moment, more questions than answers. Finally, I sat down and watched some television until Randy returned from work.

“Hi honey!” he exclaimed as he emerged energetically from the basement. He wore a silly grin that spoke volumes. He was ready to play and I had better get ready. I mumbled something about maybe wanting dinner first, but I didn’t have an opportunity to finish the thought. He swept me upstairs to our bedroom.

We disrobed in record time. Randy sat on the edge of the bed and beckoned me to join him. I lowered my torso down upon his lap. He adjusted my location, no doubt to assure an optimal spanking trajectory. I was in the classic OTK punishment position. All that remained, I thought, was the actual spanking itself.

Randy, however, had other ideas. He didn’t begin with a brisk smack, but rather started by rubbing and kneading my gluteus maximus. As he massaged, he told me how beautiful he thought my bottom was. As soon as I began to wonder what might be next, his fingers strayed into my crevice. These were fingers that knew well all the pleasure points of a woman. My response was as involuntary as it was inevitable. Before long, I was lustily riding his fingers. My breath was short and quick. Without benefit of a single spank, I was charged up and ready for action.

Only when I started calling his name did my Prince Charming begin spanking me with his firm palm. The swats were hard, but nicely spaced. I was able to savor the sizzle briefly before the next whack arrived. Periodically, he would stop long enough to check my state of arousal. Each time, he praised me for the conditions he found. “I absolutely love it that you crave this.” There are many responses I could have offered, but for once, I had nothing to say. I was too caught up in the spicy sensuality of the spanking and a sexual longing that was growing without bounds.

Randy spanked deliberately for another ten minutes or so. He punctuated many of the swats with a hard squeeze afterward. When he decided my session had reached completion, he reached between my legs and instructed me to climax for him. His insistent rubbing took me there and back. I grabbed the bedspread tightly in my fists as my entire body quaked with orgasmic release.

He next rolled me off, stood up, and positioned me on my back with my stinging bottom right at the edge of the bed. His hands pulled my ankles into the air and far apart. He next stepped between my legs and pulled me toward him. In an instant, his rigid manhood was within me. This position is superb because it allows Randy to deliver strong, deep thrusts. It didn’t take much of this vigorous pounding before I again found myself drifting into that misty paradise. Randy finished soon after, punctuated by a deep moan of satisfaction.

Exhausted, my man fell on top of me and we rested there for several minutes. Eventually, we decided to snuggle under the covers. His gentle caresses and whispered words made me feel thoroughly loved. Ultimately, we fell asleep in our romantic embrace.

In gambling, as in life, I sure got lucky!

Keywords: spanking, erotic spanking, spanking stories

Afternoon Delight

Here's a happy memory from my treasure chest

I knew I was going to be spanked. I just didn't know when, where, or how. This is the story of how I learned those answers.

I spent the day wearing one of those pink thongs that Randy likes to stuff into my underwear drawer. As soon as I put it on, I knew a spanking was inevitable. That's our ritual and I accept it. All morning long, I was agitated as I performed my regular weekend chores. I pondered what he might be planning for me. I was also a little concerned about the impact of another hard spanking only three days after my previous up close and personal encounter with the hairbrush. For his part, Randy didn't even mention the events to come.

At lunchtime, we dined at a nice Italian restaurant. It was delicious and relaxing. We chatted about everything but the spanking. He's an interesting guy with whom I enjoy spending time. He worked so many hours last week, we really needed this time to catch up. At least for a while, my tension was held at bay.

When we returned home, Randy asked me if I'd like to join him for a nap. He was legitimately tired from his tough week and our big lunch added to the attraction of sleep. This was an offer I couldn't refuse. Believe it or not, we went to bed and slept. There's an earthy luxury in an afternoon nap with your lover.

I woke to the sensation of Randy kissing and caressing me. I was sleepy but receptive. It didn't take long for his expert hands to work their magic. By the time he slid off my thong, I was ready for whatever came next (or so I thought). With that, he got up and went to our toy drawer (truth be known, they don't all fit in one drawer any more!). He returned, not with a spanking implement, but with a marital aid. This device resembles a portion of the male anatomy and it hums. This treatment always makes me crazy. He applied this toy externally until I was writhing in ecstasy. Next, he inserted the toy and rolled me onto my tummy. To my surprise, (can this man still surprise me every time or what?), he then replaced the thong.

Had I been thinking clearly at this moment, I might have realized that my spanking was next on the agenda. Randy picked up an implement we call the slapper (no, it doesn't make the lights turn on and off without leaving the bed; it just lights up my bottom). The slapper is a small, light, thin, semi-rigid leather paddle. It offers 100% sting and what a sting! It works right at the skin level to produce tremendous warmth and a bright crimson glow. Instead of smacking me with it right away, he rubbed its rough leather surface all over my bare posterior. This was more than I could stand. I was absolutely serious when I begged him to please, please paddle me now.

I haven't stuck with this guy through thick and thin for twenty years because he doesn't give me what I need. He applied the slapper to my naked bottom with workmanlike efficiency. Make no mistake, it hurt a lot. I just didn't care. Between the buzz of the vibrator and the rising heat of my derriere, my mind was sailing among the clouds. Pleasure and pain merged into a single welcome sensation.

The spanking didn’t last that long, but it was intense. When it was over, I was gasping for air. My mouth was so dry! I must have been screaming. Randy removed the thong and then the toy. At this point, I had to get up and find some water. As I walked into the bathroom, Randy complimented me on how beautiful my bottom looked. After getting a drink and a quick pit stop, I admired his work in the mirror. The entire lower half of my cheeks was the color of a stop sign. It was very warm to the touch.

When I returned to bed, Randy had reverted from stern disciplinarian back to sweet husband. I was eager to resume our tango, but he gently slowed the pace. He hands calmed and soothed me as they stroked my hair. He touched my face with a lightness befitting an angel. I shuddered with bliss. His loving attention moved next to the back of my neck. I cooed my approval. When my man took my left earlobe between his teeth, a sharp inhalation marked my ascending excitement. The lover’s kiss that followed reignited the flames within my soul. It held the promise of greater intimacy to come.

After my Prince Charming rolled me onto my back, his focus turned to my chest. Waves of joy swept through my body as he first squeezed and then nibbled on my nipples. My legs parted in response. Well aware of my receptive state, Randy positioned himself above me and initiated our joining. I locked my hands onto his ribs as he made me pant all over again. I squeezed him tightly as we rocked toward our explosive culmination. When it came, the feeling was one of exhilaration and connectedness.

Afterward, we lay in bed and just talked. I was now completely relaxed. Every care had flowed out of my body. What a wonderful day!

This morning, the condition of my bottom is not as bad as I thought it would be. That slapper is an interesting tool. It truly stings, but it doesn't do that much real damage.

That's my tale. It’s been a fine weekend!

Keywords: spanking, erotic spanking, spanking stories

Aftercare: Doing It Right

A dedicated reader recently posed an excellent question:

"The first [question] is 'aftercare.' I've seen this mentioned, but I'm not certain what it means."

In my mind, aftercare is soothing kindness. The objective of aftercare is to bring the spankee gently back to the here and now. Spankers often fail to recognize just how totally unnerving a spanking can be. Beyond the obvious physical distress, the recipient may also feel emotionally drained. Aftercare is the final step in re-establishing normalcy.

Aftercare can take many forms:

Aloe cream Aromatherapy candles Back rub Brushing hair Bubble bath Chocolate Comfy nightgown Compliments Confidence building Dancing fingertips Drying tears Flowers Foot massage Gentle touch Holding hands Hugs Lovemaking Massage oil Soothing music Supportive shoulder

Effective aftercare often requires the spanker to change roles from being a harsh disciplinarian to a loving partner. This sudden transition may seem incongruous, but it is precisely what many spankees desire once the spanking has concluded.

Gentlemen, if you want your woman to love you with all her heart, I invite you to try some of these aftercare suggestions. Watch and see if they don’t make you feel good as well.

Keywords: spanking 101

Spanking 101: The Elusive Why

"So why would anyone want to be spanked?" That's a question that all spankos periodically ask themselves and each other. If this question had one simple answer, you would already know it. I'd have to find another topic for tonight.

Even among people with an interest in adult spanking, we're all different. We have different backgrounds, emotions, values, preferences, and desires. Accordingly, there are many reasons why people find spankings beneficial. Here are ten:

Sexual fulfillment Intimacy Stress relief Foreplay Bonding Communication Submission Discipline Focus Ritual

Most spankos would identify multiple items from this list as appealing to them.

The sexual fulfillment angle is a very popular one. Couples often use spanking as foreplay and in conjunction with intercourse. For most people, feeling your lover's hand on your bare bottom (or placing a hand on your lover's bare bottom) is clearly erotic. Administering a spanking is merely one additional step further. Some women achieve climax during a spanking.

Most people feel a need for intimacy. This requirement, for me, is both physical and spiritual. It can be remedied through close contact and lovemaking, but I sometimes seek something more. I never feel closer to my husband than the times we snuggle in bed following a spanking.

In today's world, stress is almost a given. We try to complete too many tasks in too little time. Freeway driving is a nightmare. The list goes on and on. Many spankees find that a spanking offers an emotional release that can effectively strip away nervous stress.

For those of us who possess this kink, spanking is superb foreplay. There's nothing like a few good swats on the behind to get me ready for sex.

Bonding renews and strengthens the relationship between loving partners. Spankings, for many couples, are a bonding experience. They bring the participants emotionally closer.

Communication is essential for maintaining a healthy relationship. Spankings can aid in communication by breaking down the spankee's barriers and inhibitions.

Submission is defined as a desire to be led by another and to place their needs ahead of one's own. Submission and its mirror image, dominance, take many forms. Some may be perceived as extreme, but others are quite innocuous. For a submissive, spankings can provide an outlet for those feelings.

Couples in domestic discipline relationships use spankings to enforce established rules. The desired result is a peaceful home and a loving relationship.

Many spanked women, including me, find that after a good spanking, their concentration and focus are improved.

Finally, many of us enjoy the ritual that sometimes accompanies a spanking. Done well, a ritual can make the experience more intense, more memorable, and more meaningful.

These ten considerations are not exhaustive. There are no doubt other reasons why people find adult spankings to be valuable. This list is intended to illustrate the broad spectrum of spanko life.

You may have noticed that pain isn't on the list. This omission is intentional. When people think about spankings, it’s easy to get caught up in the physical act. After all, it is pretty mind-blowing to voluntarily lie across your lover’s lap while he repeatedly beats your bare bottom with a wooden board. The pain can be quite intense. No amount of preparation or experience ever changes that reality. But there is also a spiritual aspect that may not be so obvious to those who have yet to experience it. At least at our house, the primary goal of a spanking is not a warm, red, stinging bottom. That outcome is merely an unavoidable byproduct of a more important aim. For reasons I don’t fully comprehend, a well-executed spanking can transport my mind to a different space. It’s an intoxicating blend of euphoria, sexual energy, connectedness, and fulfillment. I suppose this sensation might be compared to a “runner’s high.” I love that place, and in fact, I crave it sometimes.

As I said at the start, there is no one simple answer. But that is not to say there is no answer at all. Each person must seek their own resolution. But for those of us who love this lifestyle, those answers lie close at hand.

Quiz: Who is your Harry Potter Alter Ego?

OK, I'll admit this is totally off-topic, but it's fun (and pretty accurate too!)

You scored as Hermione Granger. You're one intelligent witch, but you have a hard time believing it and require constant reassurance. You are a very supportive friend who would do anything and everything to help her friends out.

Your Harry Potter Alter Ego Is...?
created with QuizFarm.com

Story: The Sphere

This fictional story features a fantasy I've carried around for years. As you'll see, this tale is quite different from any I've posted before.

It was Karen’s sleep span, yet she was painfully awake. Even after three months, she found it difficult to sleep in a vertical position. “It’s just not natural,” she grumbled to herself. After gazing briefly at the chronometer, Karen again squeezed her eyes tightly.

In truth, it wasn’t her physical orientation that occupied her thoughts. Her lover, Commander Thomas Baker, was due to soon join her at the station. It had been so very long. She had thought of him almost every waking hour of the mission. Her role as chief astronomer and astrophysicist was rewarding and kept her busy, yet Karen knew she needed something more. Daily video links with Tom merely heightened her longing.

Abandoning for the moment any realistic hope of sleep, Karen pondered the optimal calibration settings for the new gamma ray collector due to arrive on the supply shuttle. This special telescope had the ability to analyze radiation emitted shortly after the big bang. This data could provide further evidence for exotic forms of matter and energy. She loved her profession, but even this refuge couldn’t take her mind off her reunion with Tom.

Finally unwilling to wait any longer, Karen unsnapped the side of her sleep sack and pushed herself out into the cramped cabin. At zero G, planning was everything. Since it is nearly impossible to change direction while in midair, astronauts soon learn to propel themselves by pushing off from a wall, floor, or ceiling. Astronauts other than Karen, that is. She found maneuvering in weightlessness to be challenging under ideal conditions, and her current sleep deprived and preoccupied state was anything but ideal.

The bruise on her forehead generated by the accidental collision with the bulkhead wasn’t her first and it didn’t seem particularly serious. Karen resolved to ignore it as she slipped into the blue jumpsuit that was her work uniform. With two hours before Tom’s arrival, she had time to prepare herself properly. The resource panel indicated that the shower was free. With two quick taps, she booked it.

The handles along the walls of the corridor made it relatively easy for Karen to guide herself toward the shower. Upon her arrival at the door, detectors read her proximity badge and opened the door automatically. Once she was inside, the door closed again. Karen quickly stripped off her uniform and stuffed it into the designated storage chamber. She took the provision pack from her arm and placed it into the airtight locker as well. She positioned herself vertically, took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and pressed the “Start” button.

This shower was not the sort of facility that any Earth resident would associate with the term. Tiny nozzles on the floor expelled a fine mist of recycled water and a gentle solvent. An exhaust system in the ceiling created a negative pressure that pulled the mist upward and across the skin of the bather. In two minutes, the shower was complete. It wasn’t as satisfying as a terrestrial shower, but Karen did feel cleaner and more comfortable.

Some astronauts liked to bring towels to the shower chamber, but the humidity of the station was so low that they were not really necessary. Karen simply removed a clean jumpsuit from her provision pack and slipped into it.

Once back in her cabin, there were other preparations to be completed. Karen emptied her provision pack and then placed within it four items she had been saving for this day – her Ride belt, a package of vino tubes, Astroglide lubricant, and the small brown leather equestrian accessory that Tom had given her as a bon voyage gift. Nervous now, she double checked her sphere reservation and the supply shuttle’s ETA. Tom would be there in just twenty minutes.

Peering in the mirror, Karen sought to bring some order to her short brown hair. Beneficial as the space shower may be, she thought, it’s rough on hair. So, of course, were the desert dry conditions on the station. A little moisturizing styling gel alleviated the immediate problem. It would have to do. She would not trade her job with anyone. Even so, living in space was difficult.

Karen’s insights were interrupted by an unmistakable metallic clunk sound that seemed to shake the entire station. “That’s him! They’re early!” With that thought, Karen launched herself out the door to her cabin and down the hallway toward the docking platform. When she arrived, the doors had not yet been opened. The technicians were still equalizing pressure in the air lock. “Good,” she thought.

When the doors opened, the first person to emerge was Rhonda Webster, an energetic young exo-geologist with whom Karen had worked during her days as a university researcher. Rhonda seemed delighted to spot her once and future colleague. She embraced an unprepared Karen. Karen, however, quickly recovered and returned the hug. Two sturdy men appeared next. Both were slated to work as station maintenance technicians. Their first assignment would be to unload the supplies the shuttle had brought to the station.

Several crew members from the shuttle floated into the now crowded docking platform. As each new person arrived through the hatch, there were the customary greetings, introductions, and handshakes. Karen smiled politely, but one thought possessed her consciousness. Her man was now near. She knew that as the pilot, Tom would have to complete his standard post-flight checklist. It was only normal that he would be the last crew member to depart the shuttle.

The next ten minutes seemed like an eternity to Karen. Astronauts gathered their provision packs and departed for various parts of the station. Several discussed a celebration in the canteen. She considered visiting Tom in the cabin just a few meters away. That approach, she decided, would merely postpone the event for which she had waited so long.

Finally, Tom’s smiling face poked through the entry port. He was here. He wore blue mission pants and a grey tee shirt. Karen unwisely launched herself at him. He grabbed her shoulders in time to prevent a collision with an I-beam. “Hi, love! Oh. Be careful, OK?” Karen placed her arms around his strong chest and gripped him firmly. “I’ve missed you so much. It’s been so long,” She cooed. Tom returned her vigorous hug. “I know, my love. Believe me, I know.”

For several minutes, they shared this warm embrace of reunion and reconnection. Tom took her chin in his hand and gazed into her sparkling brown eyes. “So do you want to drop by the arrival celebration?” he inquired. “No, I have another idea,” Karen replied with a sly smile. Tom grabbed his provision pack and placed his arms through the straps. He took his lover’s hand and replied, “OK, let’s go.”

Karen led him through the corridors to the entrance to the sphere. The sphere is located in the very center of the station. As the name suggests, it is a perfectly round room approximately fifteen meters in diameter. The sphere is used for all hands meetings because no other room is large enough to fit everyone on the station. The sphere was also the site of regular orbitball matches. Orbitball is a team sport that is kind of a three dimensional, zero gravity cross between basketball and soccer. The view windows used to watch these games were now closed. At the top and bottom of the sphere are external view ports that provide inspiring vistas of the Earth and stars.

As Karen approached the door, it opened. As she and Tom entered, the sphere was brightly illuminated. Other than a console beside the door, the tan-colored walls were quite spartan. Tom was certain he had never seen this portion of the station before. Karen clipped her provision pack to a hand hold near the console and began to work at the touch screen. Tom clipped his much larger provision pack as well. As Karen touched the screen, the door closed and the lights slowly dimmed. Airy mood music filled the sphere, seemingly emanating from every direction.

“Wow,” was the only word Tom could manage to speak. This was quite some setup. Without another sound, Karen opened her provision pack. From it she retrieved her Ride belt. The Ride belt is familiar to anyone who has ever made love at zero gravity. It was supposedly named for the first female US astronaut, though tales of her actually wearing one are probably apocryphal. The belt is constructed from a strongly woven synthetic fiber. It fastens around a woman’s waist. There are two loops made from the same material and approximately thirty centimeters in length. These loops link to the belt at each hip.

Tom, needing no further invitation, shed his clothes. Karen was not far behind. As soon as her uniform was off and packed in her provision pack, she secured her Ride belt. “Would you like a vino tube, honey?” “No, thanks,” Tom replied. “You know very well what I want.”

“OK, remember this?” Karen handed Tom the small leather crop. “Oh, yeah!” He took the whip. It felt good in his hand. He had given her the leather implement before liftoff as a keepsake. He foresaw this day, but also hoped that Karen might use it on herself as a partial cure for loneliness and unsatisfied arousal. Light spanking implements such as this one are the only kind that work well in a zero gravity environment. As Newton said, every action has an equal and opposite reaction. In space, this means that a blow from a heavy paddle would tend to propel spanker and spankee in opposite directions. With the more delicate crop, this effect is greatly reduced.

At Tom’s urging, Karen took her position by grabbing onto two hand holds along the wall. Tom glided over and took hold of her left Ride strap with his left hand. He gently rubbed her bottom with the head of the crop. She purred as he began to snap the whip against her flesh. The rising burn felt wonderful. Before long, Tom was applying full strokes. Karen arched her bottom upward to welcome the warmth she had missed for so long. Tom sensed the depth of her need and continued to deliver painful blows long after he might otherwise have moved on to other erotic activities.

“Please, now, make love to me,” Karen panted. Tom released the crop. With his free hand, he grasped Karen’s other Ride strap. She let go of the hand holds and the two lovers were now floating free. There are several zero G sexual positions that terrestrial lovers will never experience. Karen’s favorite was one where she bent at the waist with her legs spread wide and Tom joined with her from behind with his legs extended beneath her. Tom got a good grip upon the Ride straps and employed his powerful arms to drive into his partner. Karen moaned loudly with fulfillment and passion. As wonderful as her spanking had been, this was the sensation she had missed most. At long last, she felt like a lover. She felt like a woman. She felt fully alive for the first time in three months. With a guttural scream, Karen found her release. Only moments later, Tom followed her into the same orgasmic joy.

When Karen opened her eyes, the dimly lit room was spinning. She shook her head in hopes of regaining her senses. Tom still had hold of her Ride straps and was rubbing her throbbing posterior. At this point, Karen realized that it wasn’t the room that was spinning. She and Tom were rotating! Just then, Tom pushed off and the two lovers were propelled toward opposite walls. Each grabbed the hand holds and worked their way back to the door. Once there, they shared a tender kiss and an affectionate hug.

Tom looked into Karen’s eyes and said, “I’ve got to go.” “Can’t you stay even a little longer?” she implored. As he retrieved his uniform from the provision pack, Tom explained that he was due for preflight checkout in fifteen minutes. “You know we can’t be late.” Karen was stunned. She understood that their time would be short, but she wasn’t ready for it to be over.

Tom was now wearing his uniform and preparing to depart. Karen, still naked but for the Ride belt, said “Wait a minute. I want to accompany you to the platform.” “OK, sweetie, but I really need to leave.” Karen quickly retrieved her uniform and climbed into it. She reloaded her provision pack and used the console to reset the room parameters.

“Ready!” Karen exclaimed with smile. “Not quite,” chuckled Tom. He pointed at a small thin object floating at the far end of the sphere. It was the crop. Karen sighed. Tom placed his hand on her shoulder. “Don’t worry. I’ll get it.” With that, he pushed off and glided across the sphere. He expertly grabbed the crop, turned in flight, and then pushed away from the far wall. As quickly as that, he was back. Karen packed the wayward whip and they left the sphere and its happy memories behind.

By the time they reached the docking platform, Karen’s eyes were moist. This was such a happy day, but it was a shame their interlude was so brief. Worse yet, she knew it would be another three months before Tom’s next supply mission. “Hey,” Tom said, “Chin up, all right? I’ll be back.” Karen sniffed back the tears. “In three months, I’ll see you here, Tom explained. “In six months, I’ll come to bring you home.”

“What you’re doing here, Karen, is vitally important. There isn’t anyone else who could do your job as well. This research could change our world. I’m so proud of you.” Karen was sobbing now. “Thank you, honey, but it’s so hard sometimes to be alone.” Tom lightly wiped a tear from her cheek and kissed her again. Then he was gone.

On her way back to her cabin, Karen stopped by the view lounge. She was pleased to see that no one else was there. It was incredibly quiet. The bright blue Earth was clearly visible through the big view port. She remembered the vino tubes in her pack and decided to open one. The sweet liquid tasted good as she squeezed it into her mouth. Her eyes were involuntarily drawn toward the globe below. She recognized Asia. The white Himalayas faded into the tan of the Indian subcontinent. She thought of the billions of people there and the lives they lead. Many are happy. Many are not. Many lives are spent waiting. Many wish they had something for which they could wait. From this perspective, her life wasn’t so bad. She was performing necessary work. It was only for a while.

Just then, a great white bird flew past the view port. It was the shuttle on its return flight. Karen watched as it became smaller and faded from view. She again thought of Tom. Her hand moved back to her bottom. It still felt warm and stung when touched. Her lover was gone, but the impression he left would remain. A feeling like that might just be worth the wait.

Keywords: spanking, spanking story, spanking fiction, science fiction spanking

Survey: Who's Counting? (For the Spankees)

Approximately how many spanking sessions have you received as an adult? None, and that's OK None, but I can wish 1 to 5 6 to 20 21 to 100 101 to 500 501-1000 More than 1000 Current Results

Happy Spanksgiving!

For belts and crops and straps that beat For paddles and brushes that warm my seat For hands that firmly grasp my hips For gentleman’s kisses upon my lips For love that grows every day For fun times alone when grown-ups can play For romance, hearts, roses, and more For my sweet lover I meet at the door For steamy nights of carnal taste For bright days happy together embraced For passion, sex, and lots of spanks For all of these things, I offer my thanks

Happy Spanksgiving to you, my dear friends and readers!
I truly appreciate your many kind words of support and encouragement.

Keywords: spanking+poetry

Back Forty Love

This tale is kind of a sequel to the infamous boat story.

We had planned to drive our daughter over to visit her friend in another state. She will stay there all week (which should provide plenty of opportunity for playtime for Mom and Dad!). It's about a three-hour drive. On Friday, Randy hinted that he had "something new" in store for me. I figured this meant spanking and sex, but beyond that I had no idea why lay ahead. I even asked him, but he wouldn't tell me.

On Saturday, we drove to our destination as planned. We arrived at the friend's house about 2 pm. After chatting for a while, we departed for home (or so I thought). The friend's house was located in the suburbs. Our normal return route would have been to retrace our path around the beltway. Instead, Randy headed toward downtown. I asked, "Where are we going?" He told me that he had reserved a room for us at a downtown hotel. Now that sounded romantic. What a sweet idea! Yet, my intuition (and twenty years of experience) told me there had to be more to the plan.

When we arrived at the hotel, we parked in the garage and then walked to the lobby. I'll bet we looked pretty funny strolling into that upscale lodging with no luggage other than Randy's ratty old gym bag (full of toys no doubt). We checked in and went up to our room. The room was spacious and nicely decorated. I lamented that I didn't bring a change of clothes, PJs, makeup, toothbrush, and all the other things that make me feel human. Randy smiled and said, "Don't worry. I brought some stuff for you." I could only imagine. He asked if I would like to share a shower before dinner. I interpreted this to mean, "Let's fool around." That sounded good to me.

Instead, we had a long, relaxing, hugging, kissing, touching, you-wash-me-and-I'll-wash-you, let's-play-with-the-shower-massage kind of shower. It was fun. I expected the action to continue after we got out, but Randy suggested we should get dressed for dinner. "You know how these restaurants fill up on Saturday night," he said. With that, he reached into his gym bag and removed a paper department store bag. He then tossed it to me. The bag, he said, contained my clothing for the evening. There was a sleeveless white cotton top. That looked all right. Next, I found a very short white pleated tennis skirt that matched the top. Uh oh, this could be trouble. Finally, there was a pair of white nylon tennis panties. They were definitely too small. While I momentarily pondered my next move, Randy said, "C'mon Bon, let's see how they look."

I thought I looked ridiculous. I don't even play tennis. The top fit great, but I had no sports bra to wear with it. I improvised. The panties were indeed very tight and not quite big enough to cover my cheeks. It seems Randy had no idea that real tennis players wear underwear beneath those briefs. The skirt fit me around the waist, but it obviously wasn't designed to be worn by someone with my, um, full derriere. When I looked in the mirror, I saw my bottom peeking out from beneath the skirt. I now had a pretty good idea what he had in mind (or so I thought).

Randy came over and kissed me and told me he thought I looked beautiful (to illustrate his tastes, he thinks I'm most attractive when I'm bent over cleaning the bathtub). As he moved his hands all over my body, all of the thoughts and feelings that began in the shower now intensified. When he pulled a wooden hairbrush from the bag, I was neither shocked nor disappointed. I started to remove the tennis outfit when he gently stopped me. "Leave it on. It'll be fun," he whispered. He then led me over to the reclining chair in the corner of the room (this was a nice hotel!). I knelt down so my chest was against the seat and my knees were on the floor. My bottom, needless to say, was sticking up like twin targets.

Next, my Prince Charming lifted the skirt (as though that made any difference at all in this exposed position) and struggled to lower my ill-fitting briefs. With the latter action, he explained that I might need them later. After turning on the TV (presumably to drown out the sounds of me getting tanned), he let me lie there for a minute or two just to ponder my fate. In his right hand, he held the brush I knew so very well. With his left hand, he began to rock the recliner back and forth. Each time I moved back, he smacked my bottom with the hairbrush. Later he told me he was trying to develop a rhythm and add a little extra oomph to each swat. I don't know about the rhythm, but I definitely felt some major oomph. As I rocked back and forth, Randy used a kind of an upward swing on my lower slopes. Believe me, this technique is absolutely guaranteed to interfere with your ability to sit.

Randy did his usual thorough job. By the time he had finished with my bottom, I was almost hyperventilating. He picked me up and hugged me. He brushed my hair with the very implement which moments before had stung my seat. He got me a drink of water and helped me to fix my clothes (such as they were). I was ready for lovemaking, but Randy wanted to go eat. Heated up as I was, I went along. I would have to collect my reward later.

I thought we were just going to the hotel's restaurant. It certainly looked good enough to me. Oh, no! Randy had to march me three blocks along downtown streets in a white tennis outfit (there probably wasn't a single court within miles). Suspecting those little white panties weren't adequate for their assignment, I asked him if the results of my spanking were visible. He took a quick glance and said, "Yeah, but only if you're looking at it." Swell. It was a good thing we were 175 miles from home.

Finally, we reached the restaurant he selected. It was a Chinese/Pan-Asian buffet. There was a pretty good crowd. We walked in and were seated quickly (ouch!). Randy then smiled and said, "Let’s go try the buffet." And so we did. As soon as I reached the buffet table, I recognized that serving myself required me to bend forward and expose more of my flaming bottom. Because there were restaurant employees stationed behind the table, I had no choice but to essentially moon the whole restaurant. This was an embarrassing situation, but in a strange way, it was also very arousing. Based upon the surprised and curious looks I received as I made my way back to our table, I had little doubt that several diners had correctly concluded that I was one well-spanked woman. I did little to dispel this notion as I squirmed involuntarily on the hot vinyl seat. Randy went back for a second helping, but for some reason, I just didn't feel that hungry.

After dinner, we returned to our room. Prince Charming was stuffed and ready to settle in and watch some tube. There was no way that was going to happen. My loving was too long overdue. Boldly, I said with hands firmly on hips, "Look mister, you need to finish what you started!" He smiled broadly and said "OK." With that he got up, reached into his bag of tricks, and removed the slapper. I was really in for it now. He told me to lower my panties, bend over, and grab my ankles. For lack of a better suggestion, I complied.

As everyone knows, spankings hurt a lot (as I am periodically reminded, they're supposed to hurt). But receiving one spanking on top of another an hour apart is just a whole other experience. Randy applied that leather slapper to my already glowing bottom with a stinging staccato cadence. I don't know whether he was annoyed about me pestering him for sex or if it was all part of the plan, but he really got into his role as disciplinarian. I didn't actually cry (for whatever reason, I seldom do during spankings), but I did have tears in my eyes. The searing pain was incredibly intense. So, of course, was my lust.

When at long last Randy told me I could get up, I nearly attacked him. Within moments, the clothes were off and the lovemaking was underway. Randy placed me face down on the seat of the rocking recliner where I had been spanked earlier. He then knelt and joined his body with mine. This time when the chair rocked back and forth I experienced an entirely different set of sensations. If you and your man haven't tried this trick, I wholeheartedly recommend it! Almost instantly, I was lost in a whirling orgasmic haze. It's a toss-up as to who was more tired when we finished. I know I was satisfied, but very, very sore.

After a good night's sleep, we ate an early breakfast and headed home. I spent this morning sitting uncomfortably in the car. Randy hadn't thought to bring along a pillow for me. I’ve long suspected he derives some perverse pleasure from watching me wiggle. During the drive, he told me that I was the inspiration for this adventure. "How so?" I inquired. He explained that at end of the boat story (which I let him read), I said something about wanting to recreate that scenario. This was his response. I've said it before and I'll say it again, he's one creative fellow.

Keywords: spanking, spanking adventure, spanking stories

Fifty Everyday Spanking Implements

I joke about Randy being an innovative spanker, but he truly is. Last night, I bet him that I could name fifty everyday items with which he’s spanked me over the years. As you see below, I won the bet.

Randy’s Fifty Everyday Spanking Implements

Bath brush Belt Billiard cue Bungee cord Canoe paddle Cribbage board Cutting board Dildo Dinner plate Dog leash Draw rod for blinds Driving glove Flag pole Flyswatter Frying pan Garden hose Golf club Hardback book Lint brush Lubricant tube Luggage strap Magazine Mixing spoon Newspaper Nutcracker

Paddle ball paddle Paint stirrer PC ribbon cable Pepper mill Ping pong paddle Plank Plastic hairbrush Plastic soda bottle PVC pipe Salad spoon Scrub brush Slipper Spatula Tennis racket Tennis shoe Towel Tree branch Trowel TV remote control TV tray Wall hanging Washer outlet hose Wooden hairbrush Wooden hanger Yardstick

The payoff will have to wait for the weekend, but it promises to be something special!

Keywords: spanking implements

Free Range Fantasy

Our friend Janeen has placed on the table a fascinating offer. She would like readers to share their favorite spanking fantasies. From the fantasies submitted, Janeen and her husband, Will, will select several to re-enact. She will then post on her site a written account complete with photographs!

I think this idea sounds like great fun for everyone involved (especially Will and Janeen). I encourage spankos to send in those wild scenarios.

Top Ten: Reasons Why Marks Aren't So Bad

I find myself this evening sporting a couple of nasty looking welts on my right hip. For many spankos, this might be cause for concern, but not me. In fact, those marks have some positive attributes. Here is my top ten list.

Ten Reasons Why Marks Aren't So Bad 10.  Turn-on for partner   9.  Fun topic of conversation   8.  Reminder to not misbehave   7.  Demonstrates submission   6.  Prevents becoming a couch potato   5.  Edgy fashion statement   4.  Spanking souvenir   3.  Moderates subsequent spankings   2.  Badge of honor   1.  Excellent opportunity to complain

The Works

I got it good last night. Very, very good!

The story begins last Saturday. My Prince Charming was motivated to pursue what appeared to be a minor home improvement project. I inquired about his purpose, but an evil grin was the only response I received.

Randy took his trusty tool box and set up shop in our previously clean bedroom. From downstairs, I heard all of the usual drilling, hammering, and cursing, but still had no clue what was afoot. Finally, after about twenty minutes, Randy called me to see his creation. When I looked, I was astonished. The plaster dust on the bedspread was no great surprise, but then I spotted a large metal hook emerging from the ceiling immediately above the center of our bed.

For a moment, I didn’t know whether to laugh, cry, or scream. My first thought dealt with erotic torture. Done right, I could probably embrace that concept. My second thought, spoken aloud as it entered my consciousness was “What will our friends and family think?” Randy’s suggested rationalization was that it was for a planter.

“Randy, have you ever seen anyone hang a planter directly above a bed?”

“Well, no. But I don’t pay much attention to that decorating stuff.”

I couldn’t decide whether to be thrilled or exasperated. Either way, we now have a big old hook in our ceiling.

Last night, we finally found both the time and the energy to test this new labor saving device. Randy instructed me to strip and lie face down on the bed. I compiled. He gently lifted my head and placed a scarf over my eyes. He tied it behind my head, effectively cutting me off from the world of illumination.

For the next several minutes, I heard drawers opening and closing. I heard Randy go downstairs at least once to retrieve something. I could feel various items being tossed onto the bed beside me. When I tried to feel for them, I was informed that I must stay in place.

So there I was, naked and blindfolded on the bed. Awaiting my fate. A little intrigued. A little bored. A little nervous. A little cold. But very unsure of what would happen next.

After several minutes of this uncertainty, the ritual began. I felt a cool mist of liquid on my bottom. Randy was using a spray bottle to moisten my target. This can mean only one thing – the wet spanking. Did you know that swats hurt more when applied to wet bottom? I can’t give you a scientific explanation as to why, but my empirical evidence suggests that it definitely does.

The next sensation I felt was his hand, spreading the liquid evenly across my twin globes. How considerate he was, I silently mused, to ensure that neither nooks nor crannies were ignored. His gentle rub soon became a playful slap. Before long, he was striking my bottom with firm, regular strokes. As the sting began to rise, so did my arousal.

Just as I began to truly appreciate his percussive cadence, he abruptly quit. I then felt my loving husband slipping my cuffs on to my wrists. Even though I knew this was coming, it still took me a moment to reconcile myself to this reality. We had purchased those cuffs several years ago during a toy binge. We tried them a few times. More often, though, Randy uses scarves, handkerchiefs, or pantyhose to bind me.

He helped me up, first to hands and knees and then into a kneeling position. He placed my arms over my head and fastened my cuffs to a bungee he had tossed over the hook. I immediately liked the bungee idea. I was restrained in place and in position, but unlike with rope, there was still a little bit of flexibility for me to move. This arrangement was much easier on my wrists. I figured that I could hold this position for a good while. As it turned out, that was precisely Randy’s intention.

Despite being restrained, I jumped at least a foot when something very cold and very damp touched my left nipple. He had taken ice in his mouth and was kissing my breasts! Once I recovered from the initial shock, it was a very intriguing sensation. His lips were cold. So were his tongue and his teeth. His mouth worked its frosty magic on my headlights. Long before he finished, my nipples were standing at attention.

Before I could reassess my situation, I felt the spritz from the spray bottle on my derriere again. My lover followed it with at least two dozen sizzling snaps from a leather strap. It burned, but in another way, those licks felt good as well. I purred my approval.

By this time, my body was undulating with passion. Spankings turn me on, and this one was particularly erotic. I would have been plenty happy had he taken me down and made love to me right then and there. But Randy’s spanking sessions are seldom so direct. He had other destinations in mind for me.

I then felt cool smooth plastic moving in the vicinity of my crotch. Randy rubbed the object back and forth against my mound, along my inner thighs, and all around. I deduced it was a bullet-shaped vibrator that had not yet been activated. Shortly thereafter, he stopped for a moment. When he resumed his rubbing with the smooth object, it was now buzzing. As charged up as I was, this touch quickly brought me to a climax. I pulled against the restraints as I arched my back and screamed in sheer ecstasy. Oh, it felt so fantastic.

As I was still coming down, I became aware of Randy’s finger pressing lubricant into my tightest orifice. I was so taken by orgasmic thrill, I cared not. When he followed it with the still buzzing vibrator, though, my attention was his. I moaned, not so much in pleasure, but in gratitude for his skillful manipulation of my body and my emotions. In and out the probe moved, simulating the thrusts of a man. It was smooth and not too large. In my state of arousal, the entry caused no pain.

Soon after, Randy picked up a wooden hairbrush and began whacking my bottom again. At one point, he turned the vibrator up to its highest setting, rammed it home, and then delivered four very hard blows to my sit spots. I found myself again transported to that twilight realm where pain and pleasure tango in the moonlight.

The next thing I remember was panting for breath. I had climaxed so violently that I had rendered myself dizzy. Randy let me recover this time by using his hands to caress my back and sides. His touch was light, but its effect was electric.

Next, he tickled my chest with a feather duster. It was interesting, though somewhat less intense than the ice. He followed that technique by spraying compressed air onto my nipples. It comes in a can and, I am told, is routinely used by electronics technicians. It was very weird, yet at the same time very arousing. I am amazed that after so many years that my husband can still find innovative sex games.

Randy then released my arms and placed them around his neck. His own arms encircled my waist as we knelt face to face on the bed. The kiss he gave me was very aggressive. His tongue darted in my mouth in a manner that placed all sorts of wild thoughts into my mind. This rough gesture reminded me that his sexual needs had not yet been met.

He removed the cuffs, but left the blindfold in place. I was ready to see again, but that wasn’t in his plan just yet. He helped down onto my back. My bottom stung as it made contact with the spread. He spread my legs and climbed atop me. Now it was time to address his lust.

He was totally ready and entered me easily. Each pump of his pelvis propelled us both closer to a shared nirvana. My hands dug into his muscled back as he sought his fulfillment deep within me. When his passion exploded, I followed him into that whirling orgasmic haze.

When Randy removed my blindfold, I was inches from his smiling face. He kissed me, tenderly this time. I hugged him tightly and returned his kiss. I looked upon him as if my eyes were new. I found myself observing nuances that had escaped my notice before. I felt as though our bonds had been renewed and strengthened. I was astounded again by the volume of sheer joy he can draw from me. I also felt grateful for this time, this pleasure, and this man.

So now that the hook is a permanent fixture in our home (and in our love life), I open to suggestions of how best to explain it.

Keywords: spanking, erotic spanking, bondage

Survey: Activites Before, During, and After Spankings?

We haven't done a survey in a couple of weeks. Perhaps it's time again.

Which of the following activities accompany your spanking sessions? Intercourse Anal play Oral sex Corner time Blindfolds Waiting to be spanked Role playing Bondage/restraint Lectures Other kinks (describe in comment) Current Results

Our Very First Spanking

I recall the first time Randy spanked me. It wasn't very intense and it lacked the inventiveness of some of our later escapades, but it's a fond memory.

The time was the late seventies. Our peanut farmer president (the one with lust in his heart) grappled with how to manage soaring inflation and rampant unemployment at the same time. Gasoline was expensive. Marijuana was cheap. Television featured such milestone productions as the A-Team and Three's Company. Popular music bounced between soulless disco and mindless punk. No one had ever heard of AIDS and most people thought the pill was safe. It was a different world.

The place was a cheap apartment located near a large urban university. Blaring rock music and the odor of stale beer from nearby campus bars filtered in through open windows each summer night. An eager entomologist could have written a doctoral dissertation on the variety of insect life present in those dwellings. The residents' housekeeping standards were positively medieval. This particular apartment was located on the second floor, which made it especially warm in the summer. There was no air conditioning. Bad as conditions were, this place was good enough. This was where my Randy lived.

We had been dating for about two months. Although I had been interested in spanking since childhood, we had never discussed the subject, even briefly. I really loved this guy (or at least I really thought I did). He was fun to be with. He was handsome. He treated me with respect. He had this cute mustache. He was the best lover I had ever known (and still is!). I didn't want my weird desires to mess up this wonderful romantic alliance. In my mind, I believed once I was established in a stable relationship, those fantasies would be subsumed by more normal sexual interests.

We enjoyed just lying in bed for hours. We talked. We played. We laughed. We made love. It was great. It didn't seem like a carefree time back then, but in comparison to the years that followed, it certainly was. On one summer Saturday, late in the afternoon, we were engaged in this delightful activity. It was hot, but we had a good breeze.

We were enjoying some light foreplay when Randy sat on the edge of the bed. He asked me to "Come 'ere." He had me lie face down across his lap in what is now a very familiar position. At this point, I was game for just about anything. Noting my position, I asked, "What are you going to do, spank me?" I had absolutely no reason to believe he would or even could do such a thing. Randy quickly replied "No, I was just going to apply some lubrication." He grabbed the tube and, true to his word, massaged the perpetually cold goo into all sorts of fun locales.

The dialogue which followed is one which makes me smile even today. It went something like this:

R: Why? Do you want me to spank you?

B: Oh, I don't know. Maybe if you want to.

R: I might want to if you would enjoy it.

B: I don't know if I'd enjoy it, but you can if you'd enjoy it.

R: I couldn't enjoy it unless you did too.

B: Maybe I could. Could you?

R: I'd be willing to as long as you're OK with it.

B: Shut up and spank me already!

He did and the rest is history. It wasn't much of a spanking, but the lovemaking that followed was our best ever. As it turned out, we were, at least in this regard, ideal partners. He was turned-on by giving a spanking. I was turned-on by getting one. I don't doubt that people in and around that crummy apartment building during the following months were treated to an interesting soundtrack. To this day, Randy's former roommate refers to me (though not to my face) as "Spanky."

So who initiated that first spanking? I think I did and Randy thinks he did. I don't know that there is any real need to resolve this friendly dispute. I invite you, dear reader, to make up your own mind. What's important to me is that it happened. It set the stage for our exciting life together.

Keywords: spanking, first spanking, spanking memories

Spanking Limericks

OK, maybe we've done enough memes for now. I present for you instead these new spanking limericks!

There once was a girl from Seattle with a spouse who she liked to battle When he'd had enough and things became rough Her lessons were taught with a paddle There once were some twins from Tangiers Who laughed at the greatest of fears These ladies did prod A spanker named Rod And ended up rubbing their rears There once was a woman named Kit Whose love of a spank didn't quit One night during fun Before it was done she said I might nevermore sit There once was a red bottomed gal Laid over the lap of her Hal He warmed her just right Then held her all night Who could ask for more from a pal?

Keywords: spanking limericks

The Spanking Meme

Blame this on Shyanne. It was her idea!

In order to preserve the domestic tranquility (and hopefully save some wear and tear on our posteriors), this one is especially for the spankees.

1. At what age did you realize you had a special interest in spanking?

     I was young, six maybe.


2. How often are you spanked?

     It varies a lot depending upon what’s going on in our lives at the time. At most, it’s three or four times a week. During the lean times, it might happen three or four times a month.


3. What percentage of your spankings result in sex?

     At least 90%.


4. What percentage of your sexual encounters include a spanking?

     Probably 75%.


5. Who administered your first adult spanking?

     A former boyfriend. He didn’t get it at all.


6. What is your favorite implement (other than a hand)?

     I change my mind from time to time. Right now, I’d have to say it’s a leather paddle.


7. What is your least favorite spanking implement?

     That’s easy. It has to be the dreaded “Mother of All Paddles.” This is one nasty piece of lumber.


8. Have you ever been spanked during intercourse?

     Yes, but it doesn’t seem to work very well. Squeezing an already spanked posterior is a whole lot more effective.


9. What is your favorite spanking position?

     OTK. I love skin contact.


10. What is your least favorite spanking position?

     The diaper position. Yuck!


11. Do you consider yourself to be submissive?

     Yes, at least in the bedroom.


12. Describe your favorite spanking outfit (other than naked).

     Randy bought me a little white tennis outfit of which he is particularly fond. It has a pleated skirt and matching panties.


13. What is the strangest place you’ve ever been spanked?

     Inside a self-storage locker.


14. What was the most severe spanking you have received?

     I can think of several contenders. I’ll pick the time Randy thought it would be fun to try a paddle with holes after the switch. Not good.


15. What is your favorite spanking fantasy scenario?

     I have lots of them. Maybe the desert island theme – I always thought Mary Ann looked cute.


16. What was the strangest spanking implement ever used on you?

     What hasn’t he tried? Lets’ see… How about a piece of a washing machine water discharge hose? Laugh if you like, but that thing hurt!


17. What is your favorite non-spanking kink?

     We enjoy a little bondage sometimes. It makes the whole spanking experience just a bit more intense.


18. What celebrity would choose as a fantasy spanker?

     Either Patrick Stewart or Sean Connery. I guess I have a thing for bald Scottish men.


19. What celebrity most deserves to be spanked?

     Anna Nicole Smith. She pratically begs for it.


20. Have you ever asked for a spanking?

     Absolutely! I can’t spend my life waiting for my man to figure things out all on his own. He knows what to do. He just doesn’t always know when to do them.

OK, that's it. Let the tagging begin! I'll start with Wind Walker, Janeen, and, of course, Shyanne.

Story: Lynne’s Resolution

This is the fifth installment of a continuing story. If you're just joining us, it might make more sense if start at the beginning.

Lynne’s muted voice was barely audible above the din created by air rushing past the cabin window at four hundred miles per hour. She leaned toward her husband to prevent her words from being intercepted by other passengers just a few feet away.

“Thank you, honey,” she said quietly, but with conviction. Mark wasn’t precisely certain for what she was grateful, but he smiled and gently caressed her shoulder length russet hair.

She placed her head against his sturdy shoulder. It wasn’t much of a pillow, but to Lynne, it felt good to be close, even aboard a cramped aircraft. This was her new husband, companion, and soul mate. He now knew her mostly closely held secret. Better still, he didn’t recoil or run. Mark was neither intimidated nor disgusted.

He didn’t fully understand, but after the past few days, maybe she didn’t either. What was this genie they had released from its bottle? The spankings awoke within both partners a carnal hunger they barely knew they possessed. Lynne smiled at the prospect of years of exciting sexual experimentation as she snuggled closer to her dear spouse.

“What?”

“Oh, I was just thinking…”

“Should I be worried?”

“No, on the contrary. You should be pleased.”

“OK, I’ll bite. What exactly were you thinking?”

“Well, I shouldn’t really say too much with all these people around. But…”

“But what, Lynne?”

“But I think we need to buy a paddle when we get home.” The word paddle was mouthed more than spoken. Nevertheless, her message was received.

“I have no idea where to purchase such a thing.”

“I’ve seen some nice looking ones on the Web.”

“So, you’ve been planning this spanking business for quite some time?” Mark’s tone revealed not accusation, but curiosity.

Lynne looked around nervously at the blatant public mention of that most closeted buzzword. So far as she could determine, no one had overhead Mark’s faux pas.

“Not planning, so much as dreaming…” Her voice tailed off toward the end of the sentence almost suggesting the dream was still in progress.

“When should we use this new acquisition? Just before lovemaking, or other times too?”

“Use it when you want to turn me on, when you think it will help me, or when I ask.”

“Really?”

Lynne spoke quickly now, firing words like bullets from a machine gun. “Absolutely. I recognize this subject is all new to you. But I’ve had years to ponder it. I’ve always been interested in you-know-what. Now we’ve tried it, I am totally hooked on that feeling.”

Mark chuckled, “Yeah, I can tell.”

“So if we buy that, um, implement, would you be willing to use it?”

“Lynne, if it brings the kind of exquisite pleasure we enjoyed this week, feel free to bring home the entire paddle factory.”

“Shhhh!”

“What’d I say?”

“Never mind.”

While this honeymoon trip was incredibly memorable, it was exhausting as well. Lynne yearned to simply sleep in a bed again. Mark would have been satisfied to find just one restful position in the narrow coach seat. Seeing him struggle, Lynne reached over and began to rub his muscular back. She knew her man was uncomfortable. Her massaging hands transferred the boundless affection she felt for her lover. Lynne resolved to fulfill his every need and make real his fantasies.

After all, Mark had granted her fondest wish. The genuine experience was more intense than even her vivid imagination could have foretold.

“Thank you, honey.”

A grin crossed Mark’s handsome face. “You’re welcome, love. All you need to do is ask.”


(The end, at least for now…)

Keywords: spanking, spanking story, spanking fiction

Tagged Again

OK, this time it was Shyanne who got me.

Here goes…

Three things I like about myself: my words, my eyes, and my taste in men

Three things I don't like about myself: PMS (and everything that goes with it), the way I feel tired most of the time, and my perfectionism

Three things that scare me: snakes, asphyxiation, and war

Three of my everyday essentials: chocolate, sleep, and cappuccino

Three things I am wearing right now: oversized fuzzy cream-colored wool sweater, stone-washed Levi’s 512 stretch jeans, white Maidenform cotton briefs

Three of my favorite songs: Wicked Game by Chris Isaak, I Will by the Beatles, and True Colors by Cyndi Lauper

Three things I want in a relationship: humor, truthfulness, and understanding

Three things that turn me on: spanking, the smell of leather, and my lover’s hands on my body

Three things that turn me off: intolerance, hatred, and thoughtlessness

Two truths and a lie: I write for a living, my professional writing is totally unlike the works you read here, and my professional writing is better

Three things I can't live without: music, chocolate, and lovemaking

Three places I want to go on vacation: London, Monterey, and Santa Fe

Three things I just can't do: whistle, make a fire with two sticks, jump out of a perfectly good airplane

Three kids names: Robyn, Kelly, and Lewis

Three things I want to do before I die: attend a performance by the Royal Shakespeare Company, know my grandchildren, and publish a novel

Three physical things about the opposite sex that appeals to me: chest, arms, and, well, do I have to say it?

Three of my favorite hobbies: writing, travel, and theatre

Three things I badly want to do right now: take a nap, update my blog, and find something for lunch

Three careers I’m considering/considered: newspaper reporter, public relations, and technical writer

Three ways I am stereotypically a boy: like to get dirty sometimes, attend sporting events, and love wearing blue jeans

Three ways I am stereotypically a girl: cry at movies, like to dress up and go out, and spend time on hair and makeup

Three people I would like to post this meme: As before, my friends know who they are. Consider yourselves tagged!

Story: Lynne's Satisfaction

This is the fourth episode of a continuing story. If you just arrived, you might wish to read from the beginning.

The rising sun did little to blunt the brisk wind blowing across Silver Lake. As the soft haze of fond events recounted eased slowly from their consciousness, Lynne and Mark realized they were outside. They were cold. They were without the benefit of clothes. But they were together! This unique moment of reflection and solitude might well constitute a lifelong memory in its own right. If so, a quick memory would have to suffice. In an instant, the young lovers had scurried back into their tent.

When they emerged again, Mark and Lynne were far better prepared to face the challenges of a mountain morning in springtime. While Mark retrieved the food, Lynne unpacked the camp stove, dishes, and utensils. When they reunited, Lynne prepared a breakfast of pancakes and scrambled eggs. There's just something about the mountains that makes everything taste better.

As they enjoyed their camp fare, Mark explained his plan for the day. He wanted to hike up to a saddle about three miles away. He pointed to a dip in the mountain range stretched out above them. "That's it... Right there," Mark said with certainty as he glanced back and forth between the skyline and his typographic map. "It looks pretty snowy up there to me," warned Lynne. In this relationship, she had little choice but to provide a voice of restraint and reason. There was no arguing with Mark on this morning. His mind was set upon reaching the top and peering down upon the valley beyond. After breakfast was cleaned up and the camp was secured, they set out upon their alpine quest.

As Mark and Lynne followed a steep walled canyon slowly upward, the trail gradually deteriorated. What had been a wide, mostly dry trail near Silver Lake became in stages, wet, sticky, muddy, slushy, and ultimately, snowy. It was a tough hike. Far more so that the previous day. Still they persevered. It was difficult in places to follow the trail. Despite the hard work, this path delivered generous rewards to those willing to brave its mire and ice. The lower branches of the pine and fir trees that lined the canyon retained a fluffy dusting of winter's finest. The calls of a dozen bird species echoed from every direction.

By midmorning, the hikers were greeted by the roar of rushing water. As they progressed, it became more pronounced. Suddenly, they rounded a bend and abruptly encountered the head of the canyon. Lynne and Mark found themselves at the foot of breathtaking waterfall. Their eyes drifted upward. A sparkling ribbon of water stretched at least a hundred feet up the sheer face of the cliff. Mark hadn't told Lynne about this geologic feature!

The newlyweds decided this was an ideal spot for a rest. They perched on the rocks that surrounded the falls. Even after several minutes of staring in silence at the beauty before them, they were awestruck by the spectacle. The rising mist gave everything a fairyland quality.

"Mark?"

"Yes?"

"What did you think about last night?"

"I thought about having a great time with my new wife."

"No, that's not what I mean. How do you feel about what happened?"

"It was excellent. It had to be our best ever."

"Yeah, it was really good. What do you think about the, uh..."

"The spanking?"

"Yes, when you spanked me."

"I can't claim to understand that whole thing, but anything that makes you that hot has got to be part of my repertoire."

"You know, I do want you to do that again. The experience makes me feel so good that the pain really doesn't much matter. It's hard to explain. It's as though I was transported to a different place where I felt contented and safe. Does that make any sense?"

"Well, actually, not much. But, like I say, if you enjoy it, then I want to be involved."

After delivering a quick smooch, Mark stood up and walked over to survey the trail ahead. It rose rapidly to climb out of the canyon. Worse yet, it was covered with snow. Steep and slippery conditions make for a poor hiking experience. He decided that this would be their destination. That magnificent view would have to wait for another year.

As he returned, Mark spotted a small wooden sign leaning against a tree. Upon closer examination, he learned it said "Silver Lake - 1.8 miles." It had obviously fallen. Lynne strolled over to see what Mark had found. "Looks like a paddle to me," Mark exclaimed with more than a little jest in his voice. Lynne took the sign and held it carefully in her hands. "Yes, it could work, so long as you use the side without the nails." Lynne was serious. "OK, then, stud-boy, let's put you to work." Lynne could hardly believe those words came from her mouth. Only hours before, she could hardy admit this deepest desire. Somehow lust had transcended caution, driving her on to new adventures.

If Lynne was surprised, Mark was doubly so. He knew, however, that warming his lover's bottom led to mutual pleasure. So why not? Lynne returned the sign as Mark positioned her with her hands against the largest boulder. She thrust her bottom up and out as if to invite Mark's stinging caress.

"Last chance, Hon. Are you sure you want this?"

"You heard what I said!" Lynne's tone was insistent, but not demanding.

Mark pulled back the sign and let it fly. Bang! The wood impacted against the seat of Lynne's jeans generating a remarkably loud report. Deep within the gorge, the sound reverberated freely. Lynne neither moved nor spoke a word. Mark assumed that meant he should continue. In fact, she was quite absorbed by the scene, the experience, the warmth, the sting, the stigma, and the moment. This was her first paddling. Again the sign struck. Even over clothes, it hurt more than Mark's hand. But it was more thrilling as well. Soon Mark developed a slow, but steady cadence. After several minutes and many hard swats, Mark decided Lynne had absorbed enough for one morning. The sudden cessation broke her trance. Ouch! She hadn't realized before how complete her paddling had been. She found herself involuntarily rubbing the punished area.

Mark took Lynne in his strong arms and embraced her firmly. They shared a lovers' kiss. There could be no question of what was to follow. Mark removed a blanket and ground cloth from his backpack. He placed them atop a soft bed of pine needles in as clean and dry a spot as he could find. Under the circumstances, their clothes came down, but not off. Naked frolicking would have to wait for later.

Mark was impressed by the dark red hue of Lynne's bottom. He touched it ever so gently. "Does it hurt?" he inquired. "Of course it hurts!" was the response. It sure looked like it hurt. Mark had Lynne lay flat on the blanket. Now it was her turn to learn the benefits of good dental health. Up went her legs and down went his head. One hundred moans later, Lynne was simultaneously pleased and charged for more. Mark next guided his youthful wife to her hands and knees. There, he took Lynne in a most forceful way. Lynne gasped with pleasure as her man squeezed her stinging buttocks. Mark too found his resolution at the base of the falls. As the passion rose, erotic communication gave way to spiritual bonding. Yes, their marriage was off to a wonderful start!

(to be continued)

Keywords: spanking, spanking story, spanking fiction