Randy's Choice

My dear husband has reviewed all of your wonderful birthday suggestions and he has made his selection(s).

His goal was to come up with a new idea that stacks up favorably with many of his birthday plans from past years. Of course, there must be spankings involved (for the record, I have not in any sense been deprived this year).

He's decided that he likes my new drop-seat pajamas so well that he wants to order more so I can wear them every night. This week, our dogleg brush has moved from the drawer in the nightstand to the top of the nightstand. Presumably, this is so it will be close at hand when he feels the need to unbutton my seat. I appreciate all of this attention, but my bottom is mighty sore.

Anyhow, he liked Carly's suggestion of "a complete, beautiful, private space." He also liked Anna's idea about "a dream vacation, a perfect birthday spanking and sex that makes fireworks on the 4th of July seem tame." He wants me to blog about it though.

Daisy said, "Give her the birthday spanking to surpass all others." Naturally, that idea appealed to Randy and will be incorporated into his plans as well. Girl said, "I think Randy should be nice and exclude the Mother of All Paddles." That's a splendid idea, but alas, it's already been used this year. He just gave me two ceremonial swats, but that was plenty.

I love Hermione's chocolate suggestion, but Randy didn't indicate whether that would be part of the mix. Instead, he is totally pleased with Tom's thoughts. I could be in for a lot of good fortune. D's suggestion of a swanky hotel fits in quite nicely with Randy's concept as well. So do Skellos' ideas.

The plan is that we are going to a resort and spa out on the coast in two weeks! It should be sensational, and I have all of you to thank.

I'll provide updates as they become available.

Divide and Conquer (Part Two)

Readers who wish to follow the story from the beginning are encouraged to start here.

I love being an empty-nester. I miss our daughter sometimes, but not so much that I wish she were back with us full time. Happily, she is grown and has her own life now. Randy and I are free to seek our own adventures. …and what adventures! Those were the thoughts that passed through my mind as I floated down the misty passage that divides dreams from consciousness.

I became aware that I was alone in a strange bed. Randy had left, but his spot beside me retained some of his warmth. It was still dark, though I felt as though I had slept for days. I fumbled to find the clock radio and to my surprise, it read 9:43. AM or PM? Could we have missed a whole day? That seemed impossible.

I rose from the bed and threw open the heavy drapes. What I saw outside was not night at all, but rather a dark morning with a heavy rain storm in progress. I shook off the drowsiness and worked to get my bearings. Randy was in the shower. We had a performance to attend at one o’clock. This was vacation.

When Randy emerged from the bathroom, he shot me a sly smile. The gleam in his eye told me that he had plans for me. He told me that he was glad I was awake. Still naked as the day he was born, I could see that his gladness was genuine. He encouraged me to lie across his lap. Sleepy but willing, I did so. My lover delivered four nice crisp swats on the fullest part of my bottom before abruptly halting.

“This won’t do.” His voice was serious.

“What? Why?” I stammered in hopes of somehow remedying whatever stood between me and this lovely little hand spanking.

“Too loud. Get up and lie flat on the bed.”

His wish was my command. I arranged myself prostrate in the center of the bed. Randy then moved me closer to the edge and separated my legs so that my feet were apart. He produced from his bag the same crop he had employed so effectively the previous evening.

He began this spanking with light flicking snaps all over my bottom. This hurt, to be sure, but these transient stings merely stimulated my spanko appetite. After a while, my man turned up the intensity. Particularly memorable were several blows to my seldom spanked inner slopes. Eventually, he had me jumping with each strike of the leather tip. By the time he completed his fleshy artwork in crimson, my entire bottom was alight with a toasty glow.

We made love at the edge of the bed. I knelt facing the center of the bed and he took me from behind while standing. I adore this position. I always feel very submissive and completely filled by his love.

I enjoyed a quick but refreshing shower. Afterward, I couldn’t resist admiring my fresh marks in the mirror. Randy did a nice job. My entire bottom was covered in red blotches, and it felt just like it looked. As I turned a bit father, I noticed one wayward crop head impact about two or three inches down my right thigh. That, I recalled, must have happened when I jumped.

Next, I prepared myself for the day. We had tickets to two performances. I thought my long flower print skirt and a sleeveless pink top would be perfect for a steamy summer day. Once again, my husband, lover, and self-styled fashion consultant intervened.

“How about those white shorts?” he inquired hopefully.

“No way!” I had no desire to show off my marks in a public place.

“Really? What not?” His tone was more curious than insistent.

“I don’t want my marks to show.” I tried to sound firm.

“You don’t know anybody within a hundred miles. Besides, if someone asks, you can tell them you sat in brambles.” I could tell he was proud of this witty comeback.

“Brambles? Are you insane? Why would anyone sit in brambles?” I was a lot more amused than I was showing at this point.

“Maybe you lost your balance?” I was fighting back a giggle.

“OK. Since when do brambles leave a mark like this?” With that, I whirled around and pointed to the mark in question.

He smacked the spot hard with his hand.

“Hey! No fair.”

“Now it looks like brambles. Put on your white shorts.”

I decided that I had been defeated by inferior logic. I put on the shorts over my obligatory thong. I hadn’t even finished buttoning them before Randy told me how beautiful he thought I looked. He was again all over me, squeezing my very sore posterior, massaging my breasts, and kissing my neck. I would consider selling those shorts as an aphrodisiac, except that they appear to work on only one man.

As I was applying makeup, I twisted around to check how apparent the mark was. It was plenty visible well below the bottom hem of my shorts. Anyone who had ever spanked or been spanked with a crop would probably recognize the pattern. I figured the dark thong would be very visible as well, but the thicker denim was opaque. Unlike the previous evening, only the thin outline was discernable.

Having missed breakfast entirely, we wandered out into the rain in search of lunch. We found a small restaurant down a side street about a block from the theater. They offered a varied menu organized around the concept of Pan-Mediterranean cuisine. This, I learned, meant an ambitious combination of Spanish, French, Italian, Greek, Middle Eastern, and North African specialties. Feeling bold after his morning conquest, Randy opted for falafel (complete with the chef’s secret sauce). I ordered the house salad with olives and feta. Both were tastefully presented and sustaining (They weren’t all that great, but I’m telling a story here, OK?).

What I will recall about this particular establishment, however, was not the food, but the seating. They had chairs where the seat was a dome-like metal grid. This design could not have been comfortable for the majority of patrons who had not been recently spanked. As for me, I could hardy keep still. My bottom was quite tender and that chair didn’t help at all. Randy observed my discomfort and appeared more amused than concerned.

We arrived at the theater in reasonably dry condition about a half hour before the curtain. This gave us time to look around the many exhibits before finding our seats. This play was a drama. The story was rather sad, but the message was a positive one. Again, the performers were wonderful. It was a young cast and they managed to totally immerse me in the story.

After the show, we hung out in a very cool bookstore until it was time for dinner. This experience reminded me of how much I miss independent booksellers. Their slow, agonizing demise at the hands of chains and the internet is a real loss for anyone who loves books.

Perhaps it was just my imagination, but I thought there was one younger fellow who was spying on me in the bookstore. By this time, my telltale welt had faded, but it wasn’t entirely gone. When I mentioned this to Randy, he laughed and told me that *he* was definitely staring at my butt through the stacks.

Our dinner was the landmark meal of the trip. We drove out to a local winery that also serves gourmet dinners. We had what I can describe only as a four course feast. It made me glad I had a salad for lunch. The appetizer was sautéed wild mushrooms with herbs. The salad was mixed organic greens with peppercorn dressing. For the main course, I ordered baked tilapia. Randy enjoyed a broiled lobster tail. It was all excellent. I thought I had no room for dessert until they brought the dark chocolate mousse with an assortment of fresh berries. Randy didn’t have to remind me that it was full of healthy anti-oxidants. Just wow!

Our evening show was a rollicking musical comedy, complete with plenty of singing and dancing. The costumes were splendid and the cast seemed to be genuinely having fun. This infectious happiness spread into the audience to make this a fine night out and an appropriate conclusion to our theater trip.

It was a long, hot, tiring day and by the end of it, I was ready to fall into bed. Even so, Randy still had the energy to kiss and lick what was left of my welts. This felt good, especially when it devolved into oral sex. Looking back, I have to admit that, despite my complaints, I too find Randy’s unusual brand of spanko exhibitionism a turn-on. It was a pleasurable day and one to be remembered.

The following day’s drive home was uneventful and largely anticlimactic. We were still tired, but it was hard not to smile at our good fortune. We agreed to plan these escapes more often.

Keywords: spanking, vacation spanking, riding crop, spanking story, spanking and sex, Bonnie, erotic spanking

Divide and Conquer (Part One)

Every summer, Randy and I visit a popular theater festival in another state. We renewed that lovely tradition last week. The three plays we saw were all excellent and the casts, sets, costumes, and staging were superb. We shared several exquisite meals as well as some all too rare quiet time together. It was such a great outing that we are already looking forward to next year’s trip.

Regular readers probably won’t be surprised to learn that the week included some spanking as well. There were several spankings in fact. Before we left on Tuesday morning, Randy caught me coming out of the shower. Knowing the man as I do, I figured that a pre-trip bun warming was a distinct possibility. Nevertheless, he managed to surprise me by choosing a moment when my mind was racing in several directions other than spanking.

I walked out of the bathroom, still slightly damp and with my hair wrapped in a towel. I looked up to see him seated on the bed, facing me, clutching a wooden hairbrush in his strong right hand. He clearly intended to take me over his lap and spank me. I started to turn around and head back from whence I came, but his voice stopped me.

“Wait just a minute…” His pitch rose as he enunciated the word “just.”

I froze in mid-step. I knew my fate was sealed.

“I believe you and I have some business to transact.”

He sure knows how to make it sound romantic, doesn’t he? Nevertheless, I turned to face my destiny. Without additional hesitation, I lowered myself into that familiar position. I was face down across his lap with my unclothed bottom optimally angled to accept the coming onslaught.

Our session was brief, but shockingly intense. The curved handled brush delivers a powerful, burning wallop and with repeated application turns the recipient’s posterior a fiery red hue. By the time he let me up, I was clutching my scalded flesh in a futile effort to stem the pain. I felt thoroughly spanked.

As I was working to regain my composure, Randy grabbed a department store bag from the top of his dresser. He tossed it to me. I opened the slick, shiny plastic bag and removed from it four black cotton thongs. The store tags were still attached.

My first thought was how wonderful it is to have a sweet husband who buys me sexy underwear even after all these years. My second thought was that he probably expects me to wear these thongs on the trip and then use that as an excuse to spank at every opportunity.

I was, of course, correct on both counts. Randy announced that he wanted me to wear these new thongs on the trip. I asked if I could please wash them first and he agreed that there should be enough time before we left. However, he asked that I wear one pair when we departed.

As it turned out, this was not my dear husband’s only fashion mandate. He wanted me to wear a pair of light tan canvas slacks. I think he thought he was being sly, but I immediately recognized his game. He wanted me to show off my well tended bottom for him and the rest of the world, framed by a very visible dark thong.

As with so many of his plans, I felt simultaneously horrified and thrilled. On one hand, I really didn’t need to be paraded around like a prime cut of meat. I’m a grandmother! Yet, on the other hand, something deep within my submissive core desired to be that meat. I wanted my curvy body to inspire impure thoughts in complete strangers.

Perhaps I could have begged off, but I made no attempt. In fact, I even packed a favorite pair of white shorts.

By the time my newest lingerie came out of the dryer, I was otherwise packed and ready to go. I slid one pair over and into my recently toasted bottom. The feeling of the warm fabric gently separating my cheeks caused me to shiver with anticipation. I was now due the full treatment and I wouldn’t be satisfied with anything less.

A quick check in the mirror revealed that the tan slacks were every bit as translucent as Randy had envisioned. The T-shaped top of my black cotton thong was clearly visible in back. I pondered for a brief instant the possibility of modeling this new look for my man, but I decided that would probably delay our departure even further. After all, we did have tickets for a performance that evening.

My bottom was still quite tender when we set out for our four hour drive. But the weather was pleasant and the highway was inviting. Under the right circumstances, I love a road trip. I like to watch the cars and trucks, mountains and pastures, signs and sights. You can learn a lot about people and the way they live by driving along a two lane road. By the time we arrived at our destination, I felt surprisingly energized.

We chose an established hotel chain for our accommodations on this trip. The previous time we attended this event, we stayed at a cute little bed and breakfast. The old house was downright charming, as were our hosts, but the thin walls and lack of privacy definitely inhibited some of our noisier vacation activities. To our delight, our new room was located at the end of a long hall on the top floor. Other than the housekeeping staff, we saw barely saw another soul the entire time.

Once inside the room, Randy insisted upon carrying out one of his favorite traditions. He likes to inaugurate a new dwelling by reddening my seat. In the name of good fun and all that inevitably follows, I eagerly played along.

I started to remove my slacks in preparation for the inevitable, but he told me that he would rather I left them on this time. He said he “liked the look.” My man positioned me on hands and knees in the middle of the carpeted floor. From his bag, he produced our black leather riding crop. It’s an effective toy in terms of spanking, but by no means excessive. I rather like its savage kiss.

“Crack” went the leather tip as it impacted against my lightly covered bottom. I flinched, but maintained my position. Again, he snapped the whip against my opposite side. This too hurt, but in a delicious sort of way. I tipped my hips to invite more of the same. He did not disappoint.

The blows now fell slowly and at irregular intervals such that I could not anticipate when or where the next one would fall. He turned on the television to provide us with a little aural cover. Randy then straddled my waist facing my burning derriere. He applied the crop again with skillful aim and just the right level of severity. Now craving the wicked burn, I felt as though I wanted all he would give me.

The next thing I recall, I was on the bed, on my back, without clothing, and accepting a very different sort of gift. My fingers dug into my lover’s back as we were overtaken by the hazy otherworldliness of a breathless coupling. The preceding act had been welcome and necessary. This phase, though, dripped with erotic indulgence. It was deep, sensual luxury. Somehow dirty, yet wholesome, and fulfilling, but promising more. Mmmmm.

I would have been quite content to drift off to sleep beside my life partner, but Randy reminded me that we had tickets for a performance in just ninety minutes and we hadn’t eaten since lunch. Faced with this practical conundrum, I chose to abandon for the moment my dreams of slumber.

Randy and I shared a quick but tasty meal at a storefront café. I had a grilled chicken avocado salad with a honey vinaigrette dressing. Randy chose a deli sandwich with kettle chips. I enjoyed again being in the company of theater people. There were as many characters in the restaurant as we saw on stage. We smiled as a very demonstrative gay patron informed everyone within earshot how pedestrian he thought the bouillabaisse had been. As far as I could tell, that item wasn’t even on the menu. Later, an older woman instructed her waitress with great precision about the temperature at which her soup should be served. Unfortunately, we had to leave before learning whether it was to her liking.

As we walked to the theater, Randy seemed to dawdle. I thought we were in a bit of hurry, but you couldn’t discern that fact from his leisurely pace. Finally, I said to him, “C’mon, shouldn’t we get going?” He laughed and replied, “Yeah, but I love looking at your beautiful ass in those pants.”

I suppose it’s nice to be appreciated.

The play was a classic British comedy. It was appropriately serious about being silly and silly about being serious. There were many laughs and we thoroughly enjoyed the production.

We stopped for dessert in the same café after the show. I have a weakness for chocolate and for cheesecake. The two combined in the proper proportions can be pure heaven. This rendition was happiness on a small plate. I ate it slowly in hopes of savoring every morsel. I would tell you what Randy ordered, except that I have no idea. The cheesecake was that good!

The conclusion of Divide and Conquer can be found here.

Keywords: spanking, vacation spanking, hairbrush spanking, riding crop, spanking story, spanking and sex, Bonnie, erotic spanking