Motivation

Well there hasn’t been much spanking at all around the “Her Paddle Household” for quite some time now and I think My Fine Lady is getting the idea that she just might intend to change that. I did help that along.

For quite some time now we’ve both have been under an incredible amount of stress. Not uncommon these days for most couples, ours is centered around our financial dilemma. I’ve been unemployed for far too long and we fight a constant battle with the stack of un-payable bills. At least we haven’t been fighting.

Last night I was rubbing her back and I mumbled in her ear that I needed a good spanking. She asked why… I thought for a second and answered: For all the usual reasons…” She said nothing.

Basically, spanking hasn’t been part of our life for a while now. The biggest problems mentioned above have resulted in a few different conditions that I blame myself for, which naturally build upon themselves. For one, I’ve been lethargic. Additionally, in spite of my having something of a dominant strong personality (except while over her lovely lap) I’ve probably been as close to what I can possibly be on the verge of clinical depression. So in any event my whisper to her may have set things into motion.

When she finally decides that I’m going to get a spanking, she chooses the time for the actual event carefully. It would be unusual for it to happen when I’m expecting it, so it could be days away and I imagine I’m going to be on edge for at least a few days but I’ll be getting more and more hints the closer it gets. Usually there will be a day or three of random slaps to my ass when

I least expect them. Also there will

------------------
Well I didn’t have to wait very long, no she didn’t interrupt my typing. I took a break and was out on the porch having a smoke when she opened the door and I saw the ominous curling finger. I walked in and saw she was holding the sawed off bathbrush and the hated oak hairbrush paddle as I followed her to the bedroom.

We’ve all seen those pictures of those women who lead the way up a staircase or down a hall carrying implements. Right about at this point is when my pride and joy would usually be standing at full attention making it difficult to drop my pants, but not this time… he was hiding. I guess he suspected like I did that this could be bad.

She sat on the edge of the bed and pointed my over her knee. I tried to get as comfortable as possible since I knew I would likely be there for quite some time.

Right from the start she scolded or actually kept asking me questions about why I was getting spanked. She rubbed from the get go for quite a while and the questions weren’t easy… They dug deep and she began to spank with her bare hand. She spanked every square inch of my up-turned ass from the tops of my thighs to above my crack. I couldn’t believe how long her hand spanking lasted and the scolding questions were getting to me.

Apparently she’s been getting very pissed about my basking in self-pity. My self-pity has been centered around my inability to provide for her in a fashion that she deserves. The basic fact is, I’ve been getting pissed about it too. I have very little sympathy for people who bask in self-pity and it actually sickens me to realize it in myself.

My Fine Lady has had a difficult life. From her youth to adulthood she has repetitively been forced to endure some very nasty hardships and subsequently make some very difficult decisions. One decision that was very easy for her was that I was long overdue for a spanking, she rectified that issue.

The hand spanking lasted for at least ten minutes. I’ve never been spanked by bare hand OTK for that long before and I began to zone out from the probing questions, comments and rhythmic spanking.

When she stopped she rubbed for a long time as she continued about all of the things that have been bothering her.

I’m pretty sure it was the sawed off bathbrush that was next used on my ass. She wasn’t spanking very hard with it, but it was enough that my hips were dancing on her knee and she finally had enough of it. “It’s been a long time since you’ve been spanked so I’m being very easy on you. But if you don’t stop bouncing around I’m going to start spanking hard.”

Don’t you hate that? When you have to try and ignore the wicked sting and just lay there?

It was difficult, but I was finally just laying there, again as she continued to scold. Which diverted my brain from the unending sting. She finished up with the wicked oak hairbrush paddle. That little bastard stings like hell. It doesn’t have the thud of the bathbrush but the sting is more intense and concentrated.

All things considered it was probably one of the lightest spankings that I’v ever had but the consistent rhythym and the length of spanking probably had me closer to breaking down and letting tears flow than I think I’ve been in I don’t know how long.

After, she asked how my spanking was. I had no choice, I had to tell her that she’ll have to do it again.

Always New Techniques and Implements

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Memories and Marks

The Brunch topic at MBS today is a discussion about marks and bruises. I posted my response there and I'll elaborate here a bit.

My comment:

As a spanker, I'm not fond if seeing bruises and marks but I do know that My Fine Lady loves the sensation that can still be felt later. So, it's not my goal to make marks and bruises but more being able to make the sensation last.


As a spankee, I do enjoy being bruised and marked, especially when I can still feel the reminders of the spanking days later. It reminds me of the love My Fine Lady has for me;

It's not her thing, she would much rather just receive spankings, but she spanks me because she knows it's what I want and need. For someone who says she doesn't like giving spankings she certainly has gotten to be VERY good at it though.

Yes, she is VERY good at it. Of course whenever I comment on her abillity she quickly turns it around and says she learned from the best. If that's actually true, I certainly taught her too much.

It's really a funny thing about marks and bruises. It's not that I want pain, well sometimes I think I do, but as I've mentioned before that goes away quickly when My Fine Lady is using an implement.

It's just that when I have a sore ass I never have any trouble remembering that someone loves me, so much so that she's willing to spank my ass raw when it's the right thing to do.

Spanking Our Way to World Peace

Spanking seems to depend on many visual clues, perhaps more so than any other interaction between a man and a woman with the exception of intercourse itself.

Many couples seem to use visual cues that may be used long before a hand or paddle actually touches buttocks.

Sometimes minutes ahead of time, sometimes hours and at other times days before the inevitable sting of implement on flesh the spanker will send a signal that sets the stage for the unavoidable, the inevitable spanking.

Some couples may use some sort of signal that will have meaning only between the spanker and spankee.
The signal may be something as simple as an implement left in view for the lucky recipient to see. Perhaps a hairbrush left on a pillow, perhaps a picture moved out of place or even something with more visual impact such as an outfit being worn that is only worn for spankings.

The symbolism that screams spanking can actually be very small little visual cues. The curling finger that stops us in our tracks and makes our hearts skip a beat or that same finger that points you into the position of presentation.

We spankos are a very visual lot, certain sights simply send the mind spinning with anticipation. Wdspoone recently blogged about all of the images that have been posted over and over again from blog to blog that illustrate clearly the appeal of our desire to imagine ourselves falling into the image.

So many of the images portray the same thing over and over again. If I simply say the photo of the woman who is preceding the spankee up a flight of stairs or leading her man by ear with an implement in hand you all imagine probably one of the same photos that I do.

Many of us have seen that actual same visual cue playing out in real life or more specifically on our own butts. It tells an entire story that plays out in our minds and we all clearly envision everything that particular view screams is about to happen.

We can look at the same image dozens of times. One time we may imagine ourselves being taken to the bedroom and bent over the foot of a bed, or, more likely we see ourselves brought over her knee for what is surely to be a life altering and most certainly painful spanking.

We imagine the entire event being played out and of course dream of the aftercare that signals the spanking is over and all is forgiven.

There are other reoccurring images that flash through my brain as I think about it. They all have the same outcome… Some lucky fellow is going to end up with a very sore ass. We see it and it has both a frightening but also has an incredibly powerful appeal as we wish ourselves living the event.

Another reoccurring theme to F/M Spanking photos and artwork is the hapless fellow standing in front of his disciplinarian either naked or with his pants being pulled to his ankles. Naturally, his joystick is waving in the breeze in anticipation of attention. W

ell, we all know how the story plays out… The fine lady of course makes some sort of remark that says the little fellow won’t be needed right now and that her man will be getting her undivided attention but it won’t be to the benefit or pleasure of Mr. Happy.

Imagine that, a universal language that crosses every geographic or political border; not to mention the ions of time. These photos and artwork may be of women who don't speak a lick of English... Do any of you have difficulty understanding the meaning suggested in these examples?

It’s unique that these things, these visual cues are not only international but also timeless in the nature of their understandable meaning.

This spanking language, this universal encoded yet totally understandable communication by visual cues could be the one thing that all mankind shares. The possibilities are endless.

World Peace through Spanking!

The History of My Implements

Thinking back to a half dozen years ago when the whole spanking interest began to occupy my mind there were a series of purchases that started the entire craze on what was to become nothing less than an implement obsession.

Naturally, the first adult spanking I ever gave was with the oldest and most time-honored implement known to mankind... my hand. The subject of my efforts was a newly acquired girlfriend at the time who shared my interest in exploring "Screw the Roses, Bring Me the Thorns" from cover to cover. (We had several very interesting weekends together before we went our separate ways, it’s an interesting book.)

It really didn't go that well in retrospect, the subject of my effort was startled at the intensity and I too at that first endeavor. After only five hard smacks I decided that the hand was a damn poor spanking implement since it probably hurt much worse than her bottom did. Well, we were having none of it and promptly went for a drive to the local Wally-World to find a suitable replacement implement for my throbbing hand.

We walked to the checkout aisle with what might have appeared to be something of an odd purchase. We had a ping-pong paddle (only one), a hairbrush and a bath brush. That was my first "maybe someone knows" moment as the check out girl's eyes lit up and in fact she had a very peculiar grin during the entire transaction.

So we'll call the ping pong paddle the first specific spanking related purchase as we immediately upon use determined the hairbrush and bath brush were perhaps better suited for their original purpose. That particular determination remains in my brain to this day and matters little to my fine lady who happily uses both with fervor. Over the subsequent years I’ve learned that my hand is very capable of hundred of effective smacks, like with most spanking implements it’s how they are used that makes the big difference.

The ping pong paddle actually seems to offer more scare than actual pain. In weaker moments I've considered using a jigsaw to lessen it's business end down to the size of a hairbrush in an effort to make it more effective but then thankfully I've never actually tried since common sense prevails and I wonder why the hell would I ever want to do that. These days I happen to be very aware of just "who" effective implements will be used on.

The odd thing seems to be that with a few exceptions, the ‘oh shit’ implements usually seem to be the ones that were most recently purchased no matter it be strap, paddle or cane and the ones that have found their way to the bottom of the ‘toy drawer’ lose their intimidation factor.

That particular realization came to mind not that long ago when my fine lady reached deep and brought out what has become a seldom used old leather paddle with holes that I had forgotten about.


The funny thing now is, that particular item is back on the 'oh shit' list and I don’t actually remember it having ever been there before.

Apparently leather softens with use and age, but it’s effectiveness does quite the opposite. Then again, it could just be that my fine lady has learned to use just about any implement effectively...

Oh shit.

 

 

Been a While

It's been a while since I've done any bloging. Actually, there just hasn't been that much unique to blog about. There have a couple of spankings and in fact one of them may very well have been the longest and most intense spanking that I've ever received.

More about that in a minute.

I haven't talked about it here on this blog before, but we both have to deal with a considerable amount of stress just like many couples have to deal with these days. I see the same thing in many others spanking blogers that there are probably many couples just like us out there who are in similar circumstances. Often the stress is related to procreation.

No, it's not that I find procreation and it's accompanying required activity of vaginal penetration to be sometimes stressful. Well, then again perhaps it can be sometimes stressful considering some of the strange contortions that are considered to be "positions".

But actually, it's those other annoying aspects of vaginal penetration that can cause so much stress. More specifically, the tangible result of the vaginal penetration that I participated in a couple of decades ago, AKA: Children.

Sometimes it just seems that there isn’t a day or even a partial day that can go by without some sort of post vaginal penetration related issue and often the issue is related to someone's car.

One’s car might be broken, another’s car is sitting without gas and no money to buy gas to get to work. Another may have a perfectly functional car and no driver’s license because someone forgot to pay a ticket. Funny how those local magistrates just have no sense of humor when someone forgets to pay a ticket.

Then again the most frequent stress generator these days is nothing more than money or more precisely, the lack of money. We have been plagued by a lack of employment. Just like those local magistrates it appears that utilities and landlord appear to also lack generous senses of humor.

Back to spanking.

Considering the above narrative, it’s not hard to imagine that many of our spanking sessions have been related to stress relief. Although I love the sensations that I experience after a stress relief spanking, that doesn’t mean I enjoy the actual spanking itself, not when I’m on the receiving end at least.

Several weeks ago I knew a spanking was coming my way, it was obvious, there are signals and signs.

When my fine lady is contemplating spanking my poor ass there are little signals that start to come my way. You know, those little signals… like when she’s walking past me and takes the opportunity to make a quick slap on my still Levis protected bottom. Those quick little love-taps become more frequent and then ultimately sometime when we happen to have privacy and I hear her in the bedroom rummaging around in the implement drawer I usually begin to get a particularly strong inkling that I just might be getting a spanking in the not too distant future.

Then again probably the most clear sign that a spanking is coming my way is when she walks into whatever room I’m in and motions with her finger and says something like… “Come here NOW!”.

However the most telling sign that I'm going to be getting a spanking is when she's looking straight into my eyes and says something like "drop 'em". Of course at that moment there's no doubt left and all the wonder is gone... I'm going to be spanked.

So, there I was with my fine lady on the edge of the bed pointing to the direction in which she wanted me positioned, all the while with a raging hard on that would have embarrassed any of those famous marble statues that pass for fine art.

Now you would think that there would be damn few things that come as easily and naturally as placing a rock hard ding-ding between the thighs of my fine lady, but doing so while climbing over her lap always seems to be one of those things that create considerable discomfort long before a hand is raised and violently lowered.

The beginning of a spanking is often almost relaxing for me. Well, relaxing might not be right word but if you’ve been there and most readers likely have, you know what I mean. You may have been anticipating the spanking for hours, or days or even weeks and now that it's going to happen... all of the spanking related erotic thoughts are now going to be fulfilled.

Of course there are split seconds where you wish you spent a little more time positioning your ding-ding and there is also the realization that “oh yeah, I forgot that spankings hurt” but then again there is that little lie that you tell yourself and almost believe “this won’t be that bad”. Well, it’s that last one that really got the best of me this time.

She gave me a warm up with her hand. Warm ups are always too short and these days not as enjoyable as they used to be because by the time she finishes I’m going to be pretty red and already sore, once again convinced that I really don’t like spankings.

Almost all of my spankings have been somewhat predictable in the sense that it’s going to be just so long, and just so painful, but this was somehow different.

My fine lady was doing her typical fine job of adding sting and raw sore to my bottom and I expected by the rotation of implements that there was probably going to be maybe no more than another five of ten more minutes of continued spanking in my future, as you might expect by this point I was wrong.

Suddenly I was ordered up off of her lap, I was actually a bit disappointed since although my bottom was already hot and sore it was certain that it wasn’t going to be one of those spankings that I would still feel tomorrow and certainly not the second day. Somewhat disapointed that after all the build-up in my mind it was over too soon. Funny how we spankos are that way, many of us hate the spanking but love being able to feel it two or more days later. The reality however was that she actually was determined that would not be an issue.

Now from past experience at this point in a spanking I might normally expect being ordered over some pillows for a set with the cane or strap and then we would progress to the wonderful aftercare, that was not to be.

My fine lady got up off of the edge of the bed and then sat at the head of the bed and directed me back in place over her lap. Another aspect of this point in a spanking is that my little fellow has usually lost interest and relaxed himself away for more enjoyable future moments, but this was different.

In the past when she has taken this particular position it’s been for that all too rare erotic spanking, Mr. Happy began to anticipate this hopeful finale and was again standing at full attention. The erotic spanking was not to be, she simply had too much still to do and decided that for my complete discomfort she needed a more comfortable position so she could spank much longer and of course much harder.

Often while being spanked I really don’t have too much of a clue as to what I’m being spanked with unless she has decided to tell me. Usually all I know is that something is either not tollerable or it’s barely tollerable since it’s how she uses it that matters the most. The order of the implements doesn’t really matter but it’s always sure thing that she’ll manage to choose and use the ones that tend to get the most intense reaction from me and this occasion was no different in that respect. I know she had the Jokari, the wicked oak hairbrush paddle, the bath brush, the lexan with holes, the rubber paddle and that awful acrylic paddle from Cane-iac and she was using each and every one of them with a ferocity that I had never experienced before.

With my face buried in the pillow I was doing my best to tolerate what was playing out upon my ass, but it wasn’t working. Every time she changed implements she rubbed in a comforting fashion that told me the spanking was finally over, but it was not.

I’m usually not very vocal while being spanked but she managed to get more noise out of me than she has ever gotten before. The spanking just wasn’t ending and where usually I would anticipate another 15 or 20 smacks and a break, well she wasn’t taking breaks. I began to realize that if she didn’t finally make me cry, the day will come when she does… and that thought alone made me realize just how much I’m in love with this woman.

I didn’t cry although I was closer than I’ve ever been before, I was trembling and almost hyperventilating, it was a tremendous experience and I thanked her and wanted her.

Thank you God for this wonderful woman.

Where it Started (Part 3)

I mentioned in Part 2 that there really isn't a mommy thing in my brain that drove me to being a spanko. However, there is, or was still sort of a connection.

The last time I brought this up was on my other blog and for all practical proposes it sort of brought to a screeching halt much of what I was writing there.

Pretty much what it came down to was that the whole concept of my desires as a spanko sort of derailed the original intent or purpose of that blog.

Some of you know (because I told you), others of you may have guessed and perhaps some of you never had a clue but this is not my first or only blog.

My other blog was aimed at mainly M/f Spanking, in particular within the concept of loving Domestic Discipline.

It's not that I've abandoned that blog. But more the fact that as we pursue our unique form of  Mutual DD and the more aware I become as a spankee, I'm more willing to expound on my thoughts along the lines of being over the knee of My Fine Lady.

Well, I was having a difficult time writing for my other blog and staying on topics along that original theme of Domestic Discipline so here I am. In my other blog I often refer to My Fine Lady as Minx. Since much of this post came from that blog, again some of you may make that connection.

Early in the days when I began that blog about four years or so ago, I posted my history and how I initially became interested in adult spanking, after a short while I removed it. Basically, I didn’t want anyone thinking that just because I’m a kinky bastard I thought up some plan to legitimize my beliefs.

Backpedal a few decades and my journey into the world of kink and fetish could possibly be seeded in my experience growing up in the 50s and 60s.

Not unlike many of those times, as a child I would often find myself with my face being held to the cold black and yellow bathroom tile floor with my ass propped high in the air.

Naturally, while my ass was being filled with warm soapy water. Squirming and fighting just got me the extra discomfort and humiliation as my bare ass was spanked for squirming.

No, it was not and should not be considered abuse. That doesn’t mean that I condone young boys being given enemas and spanked on the bare ass by their MILF mothers today, times have changed.

However during the 50s and 60s it was very common for mothers to give their little boys (or girls) an enema for many reasons. Everything from tummy-ache to being moody qualified for, if not required a purgative enema.

“Oh, Myrtle… If that’s the way he’s acting you better give him an enema. Everyone does need one now and again so it certainly can’t hurt”.

One thing for sure in those days, whenever you claimed in the morning that you were too sick to go to school you could count on getting a good inner ass cleaning with lots of warm water and ivory soap.

The other possible outcome was a visit from the doctor and then you would likely get a nice sore bump in the buttocks from the doctors over sized penicillin injection. Doctors weren’t afraid of overusing antibiotics in those days you know.

Worse case which was more likely, you would get an oversize warm soapy enema and then the doctor would come to the house (they did that in those days) and give you a painful injection in your poor overworked butt.

It’s just the way things were done in those days.

Of course then I had to play and experiment on my own, and actually often did. Yes, I’ll admit it; Mr. Happy and his needs became a big part of the action. You see men have a prostate and often any form of anal stimulation gives a little boost to… well you know. I never remembered or thought about the spank that would land on my ass for fighting the enema, I only thought about the enema.

I suppose this explains to a degree, how the inner desire of being dominated and forced to take an enema by a woman was always in the back of my mind. Whenever I felt comfortable enough to mention it with a potential partner, the usual response was that the idea was at least distasteful if not outright "Oh, that's disgusting".

Besides, it's not something that's easy to bring up, it’s just not one of those things that you can use to start a conversation. In fact he topic usually ended conversation not being the sort of thing you should mention to people you meet in a convenience store, at a block party or at the typical church social. Hence my reluctance to be open about it and also why I initially pulled the information from my blog.

Fast forward a few decades from my childhood, I had spent 20 years married to a woman who at first claimed to want to experiment with things of kink to add some spice. That turned out to be nothing more than a lie. My hopes of ever being open and active with her with that part of my warped persona were dashed by comments like "I don't know how people could do that..." whenever I hinted at things.

Ok, so why did I crave having a woman give me enemas? Particularly I craved being told I was getting an enema if I wanted it or not. In fact, especially if I didn’t want one.

It just didn't make sense since I had been told by people that claim to know these things that I was an obvious Dominant. Well, it could be that I can ‘Switch’ and just might enjoy every aspect of such a potential flexible D/s experience.

After being separated, I made up my mind that I would never again settle for anyone who wasn’t willing to explore whatever mutual fantasies we had without being judgmental. The obvious conclusion was that my childhood memories had awakened my apparent need to be a submissive.

Several girlfriends later, one night I was talking on the phone with the latest potential victim of my need for sexual relief. The thing was, I was doing laundry. You see at that time I was Mr. Mom and doing laundry was just one of those chores that I had a tendency to put off.

The incentive that I gave myself to do laundry was simple; I would permit myself a martini per load of wash. After several loads of wash it was not uncommon for me to wake up and wonder what happened to my clothes. Not an uncommon side effect of martini consumption I understand, but I digress.

Well, feeling loose tongued and not really giving a shit if I scared her off…

I dropped the big one and told her that I had always had a kinky interest in being given enemas. I fully expected to hear a click on the other end of the phone line. Nope, she told me it was one of her favorite activities. What a surprise considering she was an RN. Whoever would have thought that an RN would be kinky.

Let the games begin!

The RN adventure was certainly interesting. Neither one of us were really sure if we were Dom, sub or Switch so we played every which way we could trying to find out with "Screw the Roses, Send Me The Thorns".

One of the many other activities that we explored was spanking. That’s when I found out that I really do enjoy having a woman laying over my lap getting a good sound spanking.

That was also when I found out that I don’t 'enjoy' getting a spanking quite as much as I enjoying giving one. Spankings actually hurt and if done properly can hurt quite a lot.

Well, maybe I can enjoy that too.

There’s that certain aspect about getting a spanking that always comes up just after going over a knee. When the first few smacks land then all of a sudden the brain feels the sting, instantly you wonder why you ever thought you enjoyed being spanked.

Yet time and time again, since that spanko wake-up call, I forget and think I love being spanked at least until it happens again.

It's all so confusing.

Of course the fact that my fine lady has gotten very good at spanking might have something to do with the fact. She says she learned from the best
.

In any event once I had this new adult spanking experience it became all I could think of and I wanted more.

Naturally I started searching the Internet for as much spanking information as I could find. When I found ‘Fondly and Firmly” I had an epiphany. Immediately I realized that the reason my marriage had failed was because I never gave X the thing that she needed most, a real good spanking.

Having discovered the world of Domestic Discipline I joined a few groups and forums and before long I was IMing with a woman who lived a few states away who had the same sort of desires. We spent hours on the phone and became pretty close and shared our thoughts on how Domestic Discipline could or should work.

Just as with the RN she shared a kinky enema thing so naturally conversation became even easier for us. With her help I decided to put my DD thoughts to the Internet and created my “How to Tell Your Thick Headed Hubby” blog post.

She was an accomplished blogger at the time and encouraged me. Since, she has had some very difficult times and her blog is long gone.

The primary direction for the essay was ‘for a guy, from a guy’ since it appeared from many of the DD and general spanking forum posts that I read, women found it difficult to vocalize to their boyfriends or husbands just what it was that they wanted.

My blog post began to get some attention and it wasn’t long before I received a few comments from women who said that they printed out my “Thick Headed Hubby” essay and it indeed made it easier to convince their husbands just what they really wanted and needed.

Going forward I don't think I'll let that other blog just fade away. I'll probably edit out the blogs of my my being spanked and keep things like that here in this blog. I think I just might go back and rewrite some of the posts there to reflect ways in which my views may have changed over the past few years.

Those of us who have had our spanking desires awakened during periods of being single, know that it just always seems the people you connect with aren't within a five mile radius. In fact, they are almost always hundreds if not thousands of miles away. That was of course the case with My Fine Lady and myself.

We spent hours IMing and talked often on the phone as these things often seem to progress. Since we were on opposite sides of the country we never had any idea that we would ever meet in real life. When you have a long distant relationship like this, you tend to be very open and talk about all sorts of things that you might hesitate to talk about in person on a first date.

My Belt

Circumstances brought My Fine Lady to the East coast and then all of a sudden she was no longer thousands of miles away, just a few hundred.

We met.

Now when we happen to meet someone and if the subject should ever happen to come up I don't know what we might actually say. Somehow mentioning that within a few minutes of meeting for the first time in person she was laying over my lap getting her bare ass firmly spanked with a hairbrush might tend to be a conversation stopper.

It was actually a while before I received my first serious and effective painful spanking from Minx. She didn't adapt right away to being able to spank effectively, but every time she has spanked me it has been shall we say... more and more effective.

Now, it's an established fact that when My Fine Lady has decided that I need a good punishment spanking it's indeed a very serious matter and she definitely will be sure that I have reminders that will last several days.

There is no turning back now.

Yes, We Talked About My Birthday

In case anyone was wondering, we did talk about my birthday, and it was a protracted talk and my fine lady did an excellent job of keeping all the memories of the conversation spread evenly about my posterior. There were of course a few other items that she wanted to 'talk' about too.  

Yes, the Sizzler was used for some of the event and for as much sting that it provided, I did expect a lot more physical evidence. Then again any bumps made by the holes in the Sizzler were probably ironed out by that damn 24" paddle I mentioned the other day.

Also, as I previously mentioned she used that nasty narrow acrylic 'Timothy' pocket paddle so I expected marks along the crease because she did make it a point to concentrate in that area. 

This photo was about 5 or 10 minutes after the conversation had ended and although the immediate sting had faded the heat was intense to the touch. No doubt partially thanks to the rubber paddle that also was used.

We were considering breakfast but decided against frying bacon or eggs on my butt as that would have required a trip to the fridge.

Perhaps two hours later the endorphines faded away and every step, movement or even slight shift of my clothes reminded me of our early morning conversation. You really can't tell from this photo. However my butt was rough, sore and swollen for quite some time after the spanking.The photo may be deceptive but rest assured, I was certainly reminded of our 'conversation' through the next evening.
As usual, unless there is a particularly wicked or concentrated implement used, I don't bruise very much at all. In fact sometimes the lack of marks makes me feel somewhat cheated as they are certainly badges of honor.

It was nice to get 'back into the 'swing of things' so to speak and we did briefly discuss how in the not too distant future I'll be returning the favor as we work toward clearing the air of any issues that may be lingering.

All in all, it was a fine morning and shortly after my spanking we cuddled for a while before progressing to some other adult activities.

While I was enjoying the pleasure of being inside my fine lady, she dug her heels into my still hot ass and made the observation "ummm, someone seems to like that!"

She was correct of course.

She was in fact certain, as I'm sure she felt my pulsations as I came deep inside her.


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Counting

So I was into a moment of deep intrapersonal reflection.

As usual, these moments usually occur while I'm being spanked. I'm sure you can picture it within your mind...

Our hero (me) is in the very precarious position of having his butt raised high into the Prevailing Westerlies. Meanwhile his loving bride is trashing the living shit out of his aforementioned raised gluteus maximus.

You know for some reason, being in this particular situation always manages to bring incredible brilliance and insight forth from my brain and as might be expected I found myself counting down how many smacks from the wicked nasty 24" paddle were yet to come from wicked instrument of pain that my fine lady had managed to become attracted to. I had not been ordered to count down, however I was keeping an accurate summation none the less.

Mind you, I was very aware of my situation. I had been promised (note I didn't say threatened) that if I didn't stay put we would be starting over with me in a more... vulnerable position.

At this particular time I was naturally biting a large portion of the mattress as I sunk my teeth deeply into that not too tasty piece of furniture in a somewhat futile effort to control my reaction to the hellfire that was painfully playing out upon my ass.

But I digress...

Back to counting...

I'm convinced that it is certainly much easier to count down instead of up.

By example, lets suppose my or your fine lady should say something like... Oh I dunno... "Your getting some good ones and I want you to count them out"

So, being the ever loving husband that we all are we obediently start the ol' "One ma'am, thank you may I have another" thing... and it naturally progresses into the tens or worse hundreds...

Well, in my not so humble opinion, it's certainly much easier to be counting down.

You know, She says something like "You're getting 20 hard ones with the ass ripping paddle." Naturally, being the ever loving husband you say something like "Yes thank you dear, would you like me to go get that fucking paddle for you?" and then you bend over and gleefully take your ordered 20.

But that's just it, when you know what's coming and count down... it's easier to take. When you just count up and don't know where the limit is... Well that can be rather scary and difficult to do without a miscount.

Obviously, in Floirda the election bureau counts up.

See, I told you I had brilliant revelations while ass propped in the prevailing breeze.

Walls of Resistance

For those of us who practice a form of DD, one of the most difficult hurdles to the success of a spanking is the fact that at times the spankee is resistant, or defiant prior to, or during the spanking.

No, not physically resistant, but the attitude just fights acceptance. The spankee knows and agrees that a spanking is needed and the spanking is actually clearly wanted but there is just a combative mood that can keep the spanking from being effective if it isn’t addressed properly. 

Let’s call it a wall and unless that wall is broken down or at the very least, has a few cracks created the full benefits of the spanking won’t be realized. Perhaps it’s impatience with the whole procedure, “Just get it over with…” or it’s just one of those days or one of those moods.


The spankee doesn’t like this aspect of their personality and really is hoping that the spanking can bring back the person that they want to be. The desire is there to be on the other side of the spanking cherishing the aftercare, but somehow that seems distant and unobtainable.

If the disciplinarian can recognize this wall, this attitude of mental resistance there is a chance that it can be eliminated with careful scolding.

Life has a way of complicating even the most thought out actions and the fact that we are now such a mobile and sometimes distant society adds another dimension. We communicate and plan sometimes too much by phone, text or IM and the plane fact is that often less face to face interaction. Face to face communication offers the advantage of seeing facial expressions that can speak louder than words and we often forget that. Without that then it can difficult to really understand the emotional impact of our words and actions on one another. The result being that often the spanking may have been over planned or over played too far in advance of the actual event.

The spanking may have been scheduled or it may have been talked over far too many times or already at too much length. There may very well have been scolding, hours or even days before the spanking has had a chance to become reality. The value of anticipation can be lost and that wall who’s downfall is sought may have already been cracked but now has already begun to mend. Consequently the value that scolding that would usually add to the process isn’t as strong or as attention getting as it might have been when the need for the spanking was first realized by both.

Ultimately there may be a point where the full acceptance of the spanking just isn’t going to happen. Continued spanking will only cause physical results and the connection that both parties want to become reality just won’t arrive. The correct answer may be to simply end the spanking if no progress is seen as being possible.

It might be necessary and possible for the spanker to turn the atmosphere of the spanking. “I’m just not getting through to you am I? I hope I’m wrong but we may just have to visit this subject again and if we do, it will be much worse.” Changing the spanking enviroment in that fashion isn't always possible. Our kinky desires may crave having ,or giving a sore ass but if the goal is effective DD, kinky aspects by themselves can be a distraction. Besides, if appealing to any kinky aspect was all that we wanted alone, we never would have chosen this unique path.


Give full attention to aftercare, talk it over and realize that sometimes the most important result that may come from the discipline is the reinforcement that the spanker won’t hesitate to do whatever is needed and the spankee won't be anything less than honest. I've been at that moment during aftercare when I've had to say "It wasn't enough, I need more".

In this respect what may have originally been intended as punishment may in fact be more of a maintenance spanking. There should of course always be communication. Talking it over later may reveal that there might have been some aspect of the scolding that may have encouraged anger instead of remorse. In any event it’s not something that should be viewed as regretful, but embraced more for it’s value as it can teach both partners how to work this process together.

Sometimes, the spankee must be the one to make this point to his or her spanker. If that communication isn't there the changes may never come. Of coure while laying there with your butt throbing and on fire can be a very difficult time to say "I need more".

The spanker must always be ready to learn lessons too. Sometimes the basic lesson is nothing more than being able to understand that there can be too much build up. Perhaps too much time between the points where it was realized that a spanking was called for and when it finally comes to fruition. Understanding that it’s always better if the peak of emotion can be matched with the act of submission.

With enough communication, remorse for having disappointed, can be much more meaningful and intense, not just breaking down the wall, but removing it’s foundation.



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I Wasn't Really Arguing

Thinking back to my High School years I remembered how foolish I was as I failed to pay attention to the Math teacher. You see I sat next to this girl, and she happened to have this particular pair of legs.

Now all you guys out there know exactly the kind of legs that I’m talking about. Her legs just went from the floor all the way up to her ass and back down again on the other side. If you’ve never seen that particular set of legs, I know you’ve seen ones just like them.

Truly, not a one of you could possibly blame me for being a victim of that distraction. Many of my classmates were jealous of the seating arrangement as visions of those luscious legs wrapped around my neck routinely danced in my head.

The significance of those memories was now coming to mind as I realized that the total of my calendar years upon God's good earth is all too rapidly approaching a number that could be compared to the average daytime temperature of Tucson Arizona in July.

More importantly, that regrettable annual ritual of my birthday is ever near. Naturally, as you likely realize in the world of TTWD (This Thing We Do) the subject of birthday spankings manages to wiggle it’s way into occasional conversation the closer that benchmark nears.

Now, I won’t say it was an actual argument, but the discussion was getting a bit heated. More precisely, my concern was that the conversation was actually about the heating of my back side.

It's not that I don't believe in traditions, but as I reflected on this particular tradition I was sure that it was all some sort of elaborate corporate scheme to sell more hairbrush like items.

In any event, since it’s MY birthday and if it's going to happen I believe I should be able to choose the implement (I was thinking feather) and that the total number of smacks should equal at most, the number of years that I’ve accrued. Notably, here is were my fine lady’s opinion differed from my own.

You’ll remember several blog posts ago I mentioned that one of the additions to the “Her Paddle” household's pain drawer was the Spencer Style Sizzler paddle from those Pain-iacs at Cane-iac.

For whatever reason she was insisting that each year would equate to a good hard smack with her paddle of choice and as far as she was concerned it was going to be with the Sizzler.

The Cane-iac Sizzler 18" x 4" made of all too hard Walnut

So this goes back and forth for a little bit and finally her tone changes a bit and she said:

“Fine, it’s now GOING to be two per year and they're going to be good and hard with the Sizzler, otherwise if you want to argue some more, I would just as soon make it 10 per year”.

Then there was some sort of remark about me obviously needing a few good lesson sessions before the big event.

Here's where the significance of my rather poor math aptitude (as previously mentioned above) really began to come back and haunt me as I pondered the potential for some sort of geometric progression. More importantly that geometric progression could, or more accurately would descend upon my now twitching unfortunate posterior.

Naturally, sooner or later there just comes a time when a man has to stand his ground and put his foot down when things start to get out of control in situations like this. You know, sort of a John Wayne sort of thing. In mere milliseconds I managed to muster my most manly, deep and intimidating voice, looked her straight in the eye and said…




“Yes dear”.


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The Reveal

Hoo - ray !!!!



We have a winner!



spankedbywife: "I would guess its that loopy thingy you just got from Cane-iac. Yikes!"



Yes, the twisted device that damaged my butt is the intimidating Howler Loopy Thingy from Cane-iac. Perhaps it's not the device that is twisted, perhaps it's the warped twisted individuals at Cane-iac who developed this atrocity that threatens mankind as a Weapon of Ass Destruction.

Thankfully, this was not an actual punishment spanking. My fine lady placed me on a nice stack of pillows to position my vulnerability within easy reach of her efforts as she knelt along side swinging the device with anticipation.

I’m not sure if what I was experiencing at that particular minute was anticipation, nah… trepidation sounds better.

• She noted how nasty the Loopy Thingy really seems in person.
• I had already made that observation.
• She noted how big the Loopy Thingy really seems in person.
• I had already made that observation.
• She noted how she bet it was really going to hurt.
• I had already made that observation.
• She said it was really long and it was probably going to wrap and leave a nice sore on the side of my ass.
• I had already made that observation.

Now here is where something odd happened. Since this wasn’t some sort of punishment, discipline reminder or stress relief spanking… Just your typical try the new pain toy spanking, she actually asked me how I wanted it. I can probably best relate this choice to the reluctant subject of a firing squad being asked if he wanted to be fatally shot through the head or fatally shot through the heart.

I made my decision, “Just take one full force really hard swing and be done with it”.

She though for a second and said no, “I’m going to need a few good practice swings first”. Now I wondered why she even asked, but I decided it might not be the best choice to bring up the discrepancy at this particular time.

What I wanted to say was:

Why the fuck did you ask?

But I decided to hold my thoughts amd my tongue for the moment.

Well, she took two “warm-up” smacks and one really wicked swing on my poor lower cheek. She then decided that she had to do both cheeks because she didn’t want me having some sort of ill after effect like having to walk sideways or off balance. You see that’s why I love her, she’s always concerned that things should work out well for me.

I was actually surprised by the nasty implement. What I had expected was something similar to cane pain with a real “holy shit” sting when it landed. Well, it did have a really ‘holy shit’ sting but it wasn’t that sort of feels like a knife that makes you look back to see if there’s a blood trail sort of sting.

But there was thud too and plenty of it. That’s not exactly true, the one really nasty swing per cheek were the sorts of landings upon my flesh that did make me wonder why the hell I ever started this warped endeavor.

Thinking back to how the R&D department at Cane-iac described the Loopy Thingy:
"HOWLER - Silicone LOOP, 17+" a truly VICIOUS spanking tool. "


You just have to stop and think about it a bit. Here we have the maker of wicked canes (Are there any other kind? none are 'yummy'.) describing an item as a "truly VICIOUS" spanking tool. In retrospect, I realize it's always important to consider the source.


In any event I imagine the reason they use rubber hoses filled with sand in police interrogation rooms and spy HQs around the world is simply because Cane-iac hasn’t bothered to market this product to them, yet.

This photo shows the result right after the nasty deed and you can see the result of two “warm-up” swings. You can also see the darker marks from the really nasty swing. Note that when swung truly fast and hard the loop actually stretches out and narrowed to about half of it's width leaving the marks closer together (and the resulting pain more concentrated).

Shortly after the event we went out to a local breakfast special. Sitting there I was reminded of our earlier activity and when we returned home a quick peek revealed that the nasty one had developed into a rather annoying welted itchy sore with a bit of deeper muscle pain.

Thankfully I had been on pillows. If I had been bent over a chair or even on elbows and knees I imagine my skin and butt muscles would have been tensed enough for the really nasty terrible Howler Loopy Thingy to do some real serious deep pain. Actually, if this had been a real punishment spanking and if I had been to subject to more than just one really nasty swing to each side... I would certainly be sleeping on my belly tonight, in fact I might still.


Now my fine lady is somewhat anxious, perhaps a bit too anxious to try more of the newly acquired pain tools. Evidently, she found the whole endeavor… ‘fun’.


I mentioned that it might be best to wait until the existing pain and marks had faded. She said that’s not really an issue, a little makeup could be used and we could still get some really nice pictures. Unfortunately, she probably has my shade.

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