Sunday, March 29, 2020

Twenty Thoughts about Now

So here we are, hopefully safely hidden away from the storm raging just outside our doors. I feel as though I should share with you, but I haven’t got any exciting news, amazing revelations, or fun adventures. It’s just the lives of two people confined within four walls. What I have for you below is a collection of my observations, some deliberate and some random.

  1. This is going to be a long siege, I think, longer than most of us are willing to admit. And maybe it’s best that we don’t worry too much about that now. Let’s take it a day at a time, support each other in safe ways, and hold on to all that we value.

  2. Randy and I are both working from home, at least for the time being. It’s been OK.

  3. We are well so far. Our state has not been hit as hard as neighboring states, but I’m not sure how long that will last.

  4. Spankings seem to help both of us, with him delivering and me receiving. In between our regular Friday evening festivities with the fun rituals and ouchy implements, we’ve added daily and sometimes more than daily spankings. These sessions are typically quicker and less formal. Randy favors a small leather paddle that generates a lot of heat and sting, but inflicts no serious damage. It’s a whole new sensation to return from a work break with a sore bottom and a big smile.

  5. We’re wearing only washable clothes these days and the focus is on comfort. My new uniform is a t-shirt, no bra, a thong, a long skirt, and socks or slippers. Because of daily video conferences, I still feel I should wear basic makeup during the week, but that could change.

  6. I’ve heard women say that once you wear a thong everyday, you’ll get used to it, and I have. It’s not necessarily my preference, but it’s fun for Randy to be able to flip my skirt and spank my bare bottom.

  7. We tried the grocery delivery service and that worked pretty well. My only gripe was some moldy fruit. We will do it again.

  8. I love my dear husband. There is no one else with whom I’d rather be isolated. But his unusual quirks become more pronounced in this situation.

  9. I never realized that guacamole could be a breakfast food, but apparently it can be.

  10. One of Randy’s greatest delights is to bend me over the back of the couch for a spanking, raise my skirt, and discover that my bottom is still pink for his previous assault. One might think that would earn me some consideration, but it doesn’t.

  11. When I’m sitting at the dining room table and doing my work, he will ask me, “How’s your butt?” If I give him a smart answer like, “Take a good guess,” then it’s back over the couch for me. I feign indignant resentment, but you know, dear readers, that I love it.

  12. I miss the dry cleaner, my hair stylist, and our cleaning people.

  13. I worry about all of the people who risk their lives and health working through this pandemic to keep people alive and safe. Our society now dangles by a thread and these heroes hold both ends. When this is over, we should build them a monument so that no one will forget their bravery, hard work, and sacrifice.

  14. I also worry about the employees who are suddenly unemployed and all of the small business owners who had to close. The choices they face are horrific.

  15. He stole the cushion from the chair where I work. That was mean.

  16. Facetime visits with our daughter, her boyfriend, and our granddaughter are a highlight. They are home schooling now and I wish I could be a bigger part of that effort.

  17. Speaking of school, I am teaching a distance learning class. It wasn’t supposed to be remote, but here we are. The technology is fine and I like the students. I just wish it were over.

  18. I hope we don’t run out of candles.

  19. I got spanked with a slipper yesterday. That isn’t a regular part of our repertoire, but it was handy I guess. It stung a bit.

  20. Randy and I are really doing pretty well all things considered. I feel for people who are sheltered alone and lack a good support network. If you can reach out to a lonely friend or relative, I’m sure it will do more good than you can imagine. Those lifelines give them a reason to keep going when things seem desperate.

So that's it for now. I wish I had time and good content to post more often, but this is my life for now. Please stay safe, support one another, and keep those paddles smacking!

Saturday, March 14, 2020

So Don’t You Feel… ?

I have received many messages over the years, mostly from women, inquiring about my status as a spanked wife.

      Don’t you feel ashamed that you husband spanks you like a child?

      Don’t you feel embarrassed that someone might find out?

      Don’t you feel humiliated to be subjected to corporal punishment?

      Don’t you feel degraded to be used in this way?

      Don’t you feel like marital spanking lowers the status of women?

      Don’t you feel angry that your husband hurts you for his own pleasure?

My answers are, respectively, no, no, no, no, no, and no. And emphatically no. Either I don’t convey my feelings well in writing or some people cannot read the feelings expressed in my words. In either case, no!

I’m a spanko, OK? I’m into it. Like totally into it. Randy is not a monster. If I didn’t like spankings, we wouldn’t do it. And I love it. Love, love, love.

I am proud of who and what I am. It’s a preference, but it’s more than that. It’s part of my identity. I’m a woman, a wife, a mother, a grandmother, a writer, and a spanko. To separate myself from that one element of my life would be to deny my own nature.

I am a fully consenting, willing participant in every spanking session. Yes, of course it hurts. Sometimes, it feels like maybe more than I think I want. Those are the best parts. Randy and I are intimate partners. Spankings and the adult fun that follows are a part of how we demonstrate our love and mutual commitment. So we’re going to keep on spanking regardless of what anyone else thinks.

That's how I feel.

I hope that all my lovely readers are somewhere safe and staying healthy. We must now support each other from afar, and that support is more important than ever.

Saturday, February 22, 2020

2020 MBS Word Cloud

I guess that's what this blog is about.

Thursday, February 20, 2020

High School Memories

Our friend Erica recently published an interesting post about her experiences attending a large and very well known high school. I’ve not talked much about my own teenage life. This might be a good time to share.

Life in 1972-1975

It was a different world. The one-two punch of Vietnam and Watergate shook our confidence in authority and the establishment. We read about the Women’s Movement and marched in support of the Equal Rights Amendment, but real progress on the ground was painfully slow. The oil crisis and the economic recession made our lives more difficult. The summer of love was only a fuzzy memory.

Personal computers were a decade away. The internet was still two decades away. We had television, radio, newspapers, books, and magazines. We could call friends using land line telephones. If they weren’t home, you couldn’t talk with them. Instead of searching on Google, we visited the library.

And yet, our music was amazing (and still is). No one had ever heard of AIDS. Our huge boomer bubble of young people sought to change the world for the better and we thought we could.

High School Bonnie

I was a nerdy, bookish sort of girl. I was never one of the cool kids, but I had plenty of friends. I somehow managed to maintain friendships with athletes, partiers, and high achievers, but none of those labels fit me. I wasn’t a loner, but my friend group was fluid.

I was a skinny girl with a big butt. Like most teens, I was self conscious about how I looked. Thoughts of summertime and swimsuits were a particular source of stress. My version of a coverup was a pair of baggy cutoffs. I worried about my unremarkable hair, small boobs, thin legs, broad hips, and of course, my inexplicably heavy bottom. All these contributed to a general feeling of insecurity. I realize now that just about everyone felt this way. We differed only in our ability to project false confidence.

I was innocent, but I wasn’t gullible. Older guys took one look at me and wanted to figure out how to get my clothes off. Ignoring the media drumbeat of thin models, boys seemed to like my curvy body, at least enough to want to use it for their own purposes. I saw them coming a mile away. I think I heard every dopey pick up line there was. Maybe I should have felt flattered by their attention, but it seemed so transparently self-serving.


I was a good student. I liked science and math, but my counselors steered me toward other subjects that were presumbly more appropriate for a nice young lady. I could write, so I joined the school paper and the yearbook staff. This experience eventually led to a career as a journalist.

I have lots of memories from school:
  • Sitting in the bleachers watching the boys playing a shirts versus skins basketball game in gym class

  • Dancing with both boys and girls at a postgame sock hop on Friday night

  • Working all night on a paper because I procrastinated too long

  • Kissing in the back of a schoolbus during a late night ride home after an amusement park visit

  • Sharing secret crushes with girlfriends

  • Cruising in cars

  • Sitting in study hall and waiting for the bell to ring

  • Meeting friends at the movies
Sex and Spanking

People talked about sex a whole lot more than they actually had sex. I chose to lose my virginity at age 16 with a boy who was genuinely nice to me. It was odd and not satisfying at all. In retrospect, my expectations were wildly unrealistic. We broke up soon thereafter, but his gentleness was a trait I sought in future partners. He’s now a Facebook friend!

Guys hit on me often, regardless of my relationship status. I had a few more relationships in high school, but none were more than a stopping point along the road to Mr. Right. I wish I had fully realized that then. I encouraged boys to spank me, but they just couldn’t understand why I would ask for that. Or how to deliver it. I was frustrated to say the least.

Sex was interesting to me and I could see how it might be fun. But then as now, I was obsessed with spanking. The slightest hint in an overheard conversation captured my full attention. I imagined that there might other people who liked to be spanked, but this was merely an abstract aspiration.

This was the mid-seventies, so we all tried to act as though sex was no big deal. My mother, smart woman that she was, put me on the pill at age 14. She told me it would help regulate my periods. Thanks, Mom.

There was so much that I didn’t know, about myself, about my kink, about boys, and about healthy relationships. I sometimes felt guilty about my desires, but never enough to chase them from my mind for long.

There was so much that none of us knew. We never discussed consent. Rape was something that happened in a dark alley perpetrated by a criminal stranger. Victims were most likely in the wrong place at the wrong time. I am still horrified by how wrong we were and how poorly victims were treated.

The Future

I looked forward to being an adult and going to college, though I had only a vague inkling what that might entail. I heard about sororities that paddle their pledges and I couldn’t wait to sign up. I wanted to meet a special man, become a wife, and have children, a career, and a house. But from the perspective of an insecure high school student, there was no clear path to get there. I also longed for incredible, dramatic spankings filled with exquisite rituals. My fantasy spanker was powerful, but anonymous. He would take control of my life and my body in a forceful way. And, sex, yeah, I wanted that too.

As you can see, I have many varied high school memories. Was I happy? Yes, sometimes. Was high school depressing? Yes, sometimes. Would I like to go back there? No, I don’t think so.

Monday, February 17, 2020

Beloved Spanking Cartoons

When I was a girl, I watched lots of spankings on television, especially in cartoons. These animated features definitely fed my adolescent spanko fantasies.

Flintstones Paddling

Here's a mainstream show that I remember watching as a kid. I was positively fascinated. The paddling occurs at 17:30. In the final scene, the wives assess what's happened as they rub their bruised bottoms. Wilma declares that they deserved everything they got and Betty agrees.

Disney's Three Little Pigs

A spanking machine? My young imagination ran wild.

Tom and Jerry

I think the Tom and Jerry cartoons had more spankings that any other series. Here's a great example.

Little Lulu

Little Lulu literally gets spanked every day. She seems resigned to this fate. The content and characterizations in this 1940s cartoon are objectionable on several levels, but it's one that I recall watching.

Warner Brothers

And let's not forget the best cartoons of all.

These cartoons didn't make me a spanko, but they definitely fueled my early desires.

Sunday, February 09, 2020

Things About Thongs

Our friend, Dev, recently mentioned a topic that reminded of a post that I composed in my mind, but never actually created. That topic is spankers who feel extra motivation to spank women who wear thongs. I happen to be married to one.

Randy has always been oddly obsessed with the state of my underwear drawer and what I’m wearing beneath my skirt. He buys me new panties almost as fast as I can wear them. The styles range from pink lace nylon granny briefs to practical cotton high cuts to sexy red bikinis. To his delight and arousal, I wear them all. We have a little ritual where I will model his latest acquisitions, generally ending with a fun spanking and more. I appreciate his attention.

I also wear thongs. We established ages ago that wearing a thong means a spanking for me, and usually a fairly hard one. After hundreds of iterations, I know this game very well. When I crave some posterior encouragement, slipping on a thong is a fast track means to make it happen.

Randy knows too. Occasionally, he hides the usual contents of my underwear drawer and replaces them with a dozen or so new thongs. As I lie across his lap and accept the inevitable consequences, he tells me, “Those look amazing on you. I think you should start wearing them every day.” Hoo boy.

Truth be known, I don’t hate thongs. I used to complain about wearing them until I found the correct style and size. In that part of the world, I need soft material with no abrasive edges. The waistband should rest at my natural waist and the fit should be snug, but not tight. When they are right, thongs can be so comfortable that I forget about them, at least until he gets out the paddle.

A reader asked me whether I feel humiliated by having to wear a thong. My answer is no. First, I’m not forced to wear anything. I choose my clothing with a full understanding of the implications. And I don’t feel humiliated. I’ve worked for years to find peace with my curvy body. I don’t mind showing it off for Randy because he loves how I look and often tells me so.

A better question is why so many guys are fascinated by this simple strip of cloth. I don’t know the answer, but I imagine someone will explain it to me. While we’re asking, what is it about a thong that makes guys think that the wearer needs to be spanked? I understand that the bottom is fully exposed, but even a completely naked bottom doesn’t seem to have this same effect. Does the presence of a thong convey something about the wearer?

I have a theory, but it may only apply to my man. I think that Randy likes me to be complicit in my own spankings. When I play a role, whether putting on a forbidden thong or fetching an implement, it signifies not only my agreement, but also my active participation. So I am at least partly responsible for the punishments I receive and the pain I feel. Collaboration is a different headspace than simple compliance.

So what do you think? Why do guys think thongs are different from other panties? What, for a spanko, makes them different?

Friday, January 24, 2020

You Know You're Kinky When...

...When you see an innocent old ad like this and your mind immediately goes in a whole different direction.