Friday, 16 May 2014

A Spanking Quartet - Part 4

Spanking Number 4 - An Unexpected New Implement

Luckily for my backside, this was the final spanking in the series. Four spankings in eight days has been an interesting experience for me, particularly as they were all very different. The last spanking was possibly the most intense, and has since been repeated, though the circumstances were very different and I deserved every stroke! I now fervently agree with the saying

Wood is good
Leather is better
Feathers are best.

Let me explain.

We were fooling around. I happily remarked to Dan that as the spontaneous spanking he had given me a few days before had been such a success, why didn't he give me another one?

He replied that it couldn't possibly be spontaneous as I had just suggested it. But that he would be happy to relieve my tension if I wished.

I did wish.

"So go get an implement" he told me.

"I hate always being told to go get an implement. It would be so much nicer if you would get one occasionally," I told him.

I didn't think he would, but he rolled off the bed and sauntered (yes, it was definitely a saunter) over to the chest of drawers where we keep our toys.  

I wasn't paying much attention, but he seemed to be taking his time making up his mind. It's not as if we have a huge arsenal hidden away in there under all my winter sweaters.

"What the heck is this?" he asked me.

I turned round, craning my neck, and froze.

"That is most definitely not an implement" I assured him. "It's the second drawer down, not the first."

"Well, I would say it's a perfect implement," he grinned, brandishing it.

"I can assure you it isn't. It's a pre-holiday skin toner."

"That what you call it, eh? I can think of a better use." 

Brandish. Brandish.

"If you don't believe me, read the label." I was beginning to get just a tad concerned.

"Come on, hurry up, over my lap. You wanted it, you are going to get it." Dan tried his best to look stern. However, when you know the man as well as I do, you realise he is at his most mischievous. Help!

I slid over his lap somewhat anxiously.

"Is this how you use it?" he asked, scrubbing away at my butt, and making a surprise detour between my legs. 

"Er, yes, squeak! It's meant to get rid of all the dead skin cells that accumulate over the winter months when you're inactive. But mostly for the thighs and upper arms." 

"I like the size of it" he told me. Brandish. Brandish.

(It is not very much bigger than a hairbrush approx 3 inches across the head).


I tried to shoot upright but was held firmly in position. The slap reverberated round the room like a gunshot.


"You can't!" I shrieked. "It's for my cellulite!"

"I can!" I was informed. "You don't have cellulite!"

Slap! Crack! Slap! Crack!

"Ow! Ow! Ow! Bloody hell!"

"Did you swear?"


"I could've."

"Well no swearing. You asked for this"

Crack! Crack! Crack!

"But not with my cellulite brush. I didn't know you were going to rifle through my knicker drawer!"

Crack! Crack! Crack!

"This is a great implement. They could have made it with me in mind!"

I didn't know whether to eat the pillow, burrow underneath it, or scream blue murder and dissolve into tears.  

I opted for the latter two.

Much later, I lay on my stomach in an exhausted state. The cellulite brush lay forgotten at the end of the bed, but Dan still had a glint in his eye.

It certainly worked wonders as far as stress relief is concerned, but never again will I hide something, naively assuming Dan will never come across it.

Our bath brush hasn't had an outing for ages, thank goodness, but all of a sudden my new cellulite brush has become Dan's favourite implement. 

(Just so you know, this is our bath brush next to the cellulite brush. Note the difference in size!)

The wood is thick and hard too!

If anyone would like one I can acquire one easily in the beauty department of a local department store.

(We are off on holiday for a week, at the weekend. I know one darling little piece of equipment that will not be making the journey with us!) Ha!

Wednesday, 14 May 2014

A Spanking Quartet - Part 3

Spanking Number 3 - The Trouble with Attitude

My third spanking came along just two days after the last one. 

The problem with sexy spankings is that the effects don't last for long, much the same as the sex itself. You can go around with a smile on your face for a couple of hours, or even a whole day, but then life takes over and the effects fade in the same way as the redness.

My third spanking came about due to my attitude. Therefore time for an

It was not a spontaneous spanking, or even an anticipated spanking. But it was definitely of the variety you would prefer not to encourage.

It was the type where 'he said', then 'she said' 'she said' 'she said'. Get the picture?

I can't even remember why I was in such a disagreeable mood, but I was confrontational and sharp. Dan is also not a fan of the word "whatever". Especially when coupled with walking away and refusing to look him in the eye when he is trying to discuss something with him.

Sitting in bed sipping his tea he informed me that I, in his view, I needed to be spanked, and to go get the paddle.

I always flounce around if there is even a hint of discipline in the air. It is not my favourite way to start the day, and I was 'on my high horse' and disinclined to back down.

Dan always starts out so slow you think he is never going to get started. That man can never resist playing the bongos on my butt! 

"Guess what I am playing now?" he asks.

I sigh. "Three blind mice. You always play it." It's hard shrugging when you are across a lap staring at the carpet.

"Do you tell your friends I like to play "Guess the nursery rhyme?"

It's hard to roll your eyes when head down as well.

Then he starts.

There is no slow build up when that paddle is in his hand. He makes sure every inch is glowing, and then does his favourite party trick of stretching my skin with one hand whilst he spanks rapidly on the same spot.

It really is unbearable, not because it is 'thuddy' as the paddle is leather, and very flexible, but when used for this purpose, it hurts like hell, and Dan very rarely talks while spanking me in this way. He leaves it to whichever implement he is using to inform me of his viewpoint.

I have the duvet stuffed in my mouth and am nearly choking to death, my hands stuffed well down out of the way so I don't reach back.

But you know the problem? I start to kick my legs as if I am running a sprint.

Because I am on top of the duvet, across his lap, he is unable to put a leg over mine to prevent the kicking and the inevitable happens. I kick with my left leg just as he is bringing the paddle down.

It catches my ankle hard. It takes all my staying power to stay put. 

Dan keeps on for a good half dozen or so spanks, before he throws the paddle down and rubs my flaming cheeks and my back. 

The inadvertent swat across my ankle hurts. So does my butt, so I think I may as well make the most of having a damn good cry. Dan just calmly rubs. Once upon a time he used to get upset himself when I cried - not any more. Eventually I sit up and blow my nose thinking that suddenly the soft mattress feels a bit like a hard old board - all rough and raspy.

"Can't hang around. Lots to do today." He leaps up and grabs his robe. No sex today then

I want to sigh and mope and sulk, but the spanking and tears have done the trick as per usual, even if I am silently determined to never kick so high again. 

Though it annoys me to think I need this type of spanking every once in while, I am amongst the first to acknowledge that it does the trick. It takes away my feelings of stress; it clears my head and enables me to think; it reminds me of why I have asked to be spanked and the fact that I only get 49% share of the voting rights in this household; it reinforces Dan's love and reminds me how much he cherishes me. 

He never spanks more, or harder, than he knows I can bear, and he would stop in an instant if I yelled for him to do so. I trust him completely.

But that man is certainly no longer an 'apprentice'!

This time when I examine my rear view in the full-length mirror I see I have two deep red patches with darker crescent shapes, on each cheek that from experience I know will take several days to disappear. My sit-spots are rather rosy as well. 

Yet bustling around in the kitchen later, I am almost on a high. Good things those endorphins!

Keep tuned. In my final spanking, Dan discovers a new implement. LOL!

Monday, 12 May 2014

A Spanking Quartet - Part 2

Spanking Number 2 - Just Because...

(Just to warn you that this is a bit more graphic than I normally write.)

Dan will spank me for all sorts of reasons - never punishment, but reminders, de-stressing, prevention spankings, the occasional bit of discipline and lots of good girl spankings. He has also, of late, taken to spanking me just because.

If you've read the first part of this, you'll know I was feeling on top of the world after my encounter with Dan's belt, even if he wasn't so keen. In my mind I was wondering how long I could spin out those feelings of euphoria. When my stress has been dealt with, I am reborn and ready to tackle anything. 

Therefore nothing was further from my mind twenty four hours later when Dan woke me from a pleasant dream to run a finger down my spine. Deja vu, I thought happily.

Things progressed, as things often will. Dan is very practised at taking me to the limit, then backing off a little before proceeding. He will sometimes do this several times, and I have been known to get quite stroppy with him. A woman's needs are manyfold, after all. 

Having said that, I do like to play, and Dan likes to encourage me. After all, he lived with a totally inhibited wife for years, so now I owe it to him to give him a good time.

We weren't in a hurry and we played, laughed and joked. The bed was tousled, 

my hair was tousled,

and I was tousled. It's a good thing the springs are strong. 

So we made love leisurely and with regard to each other's favourite desires, 

and I lay face down diagonally across his legs having neither desire nor strength to move, and my eyelids drooping, when


Slap!  Slap!  Slap!  Slap!

I moved to roll away; to try to get up; to crawl forwards out of reach.

Not happening.

His left hand pressed me firmly down in position.

Slap! Slap! Slap! Slap! Slap!

He continued to warm my cheeks, sit-spots and up and down my upper thighs.

We had been using strawberry flavoured lube, and my cheeks were wet all over. The sting was incredible. His hand continued to hold me down.

Slap! Slap! Slap! Slap! Slap!

I was at that stage when I didn't know whether to yell at him, yelp, swear or burst into tears.

And then something amazing happened. I felt this build up of ecstasy and a spurt of wetness I had never felt before. Dan did wonder if I had wet myself. But it wasn't that.

I had the most incredible orgasm. 

It was an overlapping of pleasure and pain that just kept going and going in recurring waves until I thought I would just happily die there and then. 

Naturally Dan had to take advantage of the situation.

"Look what you did" I muttered, turning round and crawling up the bed and sinking my head back into my pillow. "I don't think I'll ever walk straight again."

"I don't think I will either" he replied. "This has amazed me as well."

We both lay in varying degrees of shock and satiation.

"That took my by surprise. You spanked really hard, I wondered what I had done." I turned to glare at him, teasingly. "What was the reason for that spanking? Don't I get to know?"

"There was no reason. I just felt like watching your bottom turn red. I spanked you just because I felt like it."

I struggled to sit up, trying to run a hand through my hair, and wondering whether I could beat Dan to the shower.

"We must try this again some time," Dan grinned, pushed me back on the bed and galloped out the bedroom door and along the landing to the bathroom.   
Yes, I thought later, as I squirmed happily on our hard wooden settle in the kitchen, we most definitely must.

Friday, 9 May 2014

A Spanking Quartet

Spankings are like buses. You wait for ages and there isn't even one on the horizon, then four come along at once. 

To spare you pain and save you from utter boredom, I have decided to write separate posts about these very different spankings.

Spanking Number 1 - The Spanking that is 'Needed' not 'Wanted'

Dan and I are a true partnership.

Our long marriage is based not only on our love for each other, but mutual respect, sharing of responsibilities, determination to weather the storms that can, and will, arise, and the fact that we both enjoy a good challenge. It is also based on the fact that for as long as I have known Dan, and I am going right back to when he first tapped me on the shoulder for a dance when I was sweet sixteen, he has always had the last word and the final say. 

Very early on in our relationship I realised that he would always listen to my opinion and consider what I had to say, but he has always been the decision maker. I hasten to add that sometimes after listening to me he has changed his mind. But I have always been expected to concur with his wishes, and his decision has always been the final one. 

I know that we are not traditional Dd. It doesn't mean I don't respect those who live those sort of relationships. Heck, it's what brought us to where we are now, and I am good friends with several couples whose marriages are enriched and strengthened beyond belief because they follow a Dd dynamic. But I realised long ago that to force Dan into it would be the very worst sort of control I could wield, and our lives would be completely false, because he did not want it. He does not wish to have lots of rules or to feel constrained to punish me on a regular basis, and I would wholeheartedly resent such a thing. 

So at best I can only describe what we have as a watered down version, or in our case, a hybrid that continues to grow and develop at unexpected times and in unexpected ways, and I would also hazard a guess that there are many other couples who could perhaps identify with us. It's just that every couple is different, and some are more inclined towards Dd than others.

However... and this is where TTWD gets so very complicated:

If something happens to the Captain of the Ship, she would go off course and well and truly flounder if there was no First Mate to take over the steering.

For the last several weeks I have steered our ship as best I could.

I can assure you I have encountered many a squally sea, and at times the wheel became almost too difficult to handle. But yet again we managed to sail into calmer waters, and the day eventually arrived when the Captain took back his vessel.

Er - no.  More like this:

So this is the difficult bit. Like the ladies in the Great War who manned the munitions factories, became nurses on the Front Line, and took over all the jobs their men had previously been in charge of doing, I have had to hand back the responsibilities of steering to Dan. 

Not surprisingly it has not been easy. Although I live my life, taking for granted things that some of you may regard as highly submissive actions, I do not intentionally have a submissive bone in my body. I have a smart mouth, an acerbic wit, and I most definitely do not suffer fools gladly.

Enter Dan.

My attitude has, and still continues, to get me into more hot water than the average Jacuzzi holds on a daily basis. My snottiness is not intentional - my mouth just runs away with me from time to time.

These are the times when I have learned to heed a raised eyebrow, a sotte voce whisper accompanied by a look and even a quick, sharp swat to the lower, rear portion of my anatomy. 

Of course, I could ignore all these things, but it would not make for either peace or harmony, and I happily admit that since I first hid my face in Dan's armpit and asked if he would spank me when I misbehaved, I have done my level best to avoid confrontation and heed the warnings. After all, why ask for a thing if you are not going to try to make it work? 

Dan's biggest problem is that he still refuses (unless my Bitch/Troll grabs him by the balls) to punish me on a regular basis. The word does not exist for us, and my spankings for discipline have, thankfully, been far and few between. It doesn't, however, mean that they have never happened, or will never happen in the future, but a warning is usually sufficient to deter me. 

Also, our weekly spank for whatever reason sessions have a tendency to imprint sufficient pain on my mind/butt to ensure I stay several feet this side of the line.

So how does the First Mate hand over that Ship?

It took me a great deal of thought before I came up with the answer. I realised the best way would be for me to ask for a spanking.

I've managed to do this several times in the past and it has been very easy. But this time it was the opposite of easy. I had gotten used to steering and was quite enjoying it. I truly wasn't sure that I wanted to return to Spankyland, (Well, it did go through my mind for around ten minutes.) and I still have bruises on my right hip and thigh from my fall, so any form of spanking sends me climbing up to the ceiling.

So what to do?

We lay in bed with Dan stroking a finger up and down my spine and making me jerk so hard I thought I would orgasm on the spot, and I just came out with the fact that he owed me a spanking of the need not want variety. (I could explain this with a whole list of actions including my increasingly frequent use of the F word which shocks and horrifies Dan, and also my frequent criticism of what he says, what he wears, what he does - need I go on?!) But need and want still remain two vastly different things.

"Go get an implement" he said. He didn't even hesitate.  

I got up and rustled around in my sweater drawer.

Then I stood with something clasped behind my back and lingered on the side of the bed.

"What are you messing around at? You just told me you needed to be spanked and now you are fiddling around as if we have all day." (Dan looked at his watch - yes, he wears it in bed because the clock is on my side.) 

"I don't want to lie over you and hurt you. I think I'd better lay over the side of the bed this time."

I rooted around putting a quilt over the side of the bed to protect my shins from the hard wooden edges.

Then I handed him a belt. (Aptly named I thought.)

"What the f---!  I'm not using that!"

"I want you to. One, because I need it. Two, because I am so used to the leather paddle that it gives me pleasure. Three, because all the advice I have been given is that leather is flexible and leaves a sting but won't make my bruising worse. Four, I am very nervous of it. Five, you hate using it. Shall I go on?"

Dan got up very reluctantly and took it from me muttering all the time. I lay over the bed. His one attempt at humour "Which end of it do I use? The buckle?"  went down like a lead balloon.

I waited in position holding my breath.

Then it sliced down over my tender pristine smooth and white globes.

I started to count in my head having heard that if you count it helps not only pass the time but also takes your mind off the action.

Ha! It did no such thing! I lost count at around fifteen and resorted to my usual loud yelping after each strike. As my yelping grew louder there didn't seem to be too many more, so probably I only received around twenty or so, Dan grumbling the entire time about belts being unwieldy and not wanting to catch my lady bits. (I didn't want him to catch them either!)

My eyes were wet and I was just relaxing into that state where you are going to have a good cry when he stopped.  I wasn't sure whether to breathe a sign of relief or feel short-changed.

Now this is where Dan does his surprising, unexpected, straight out of the HOH textbook thing.

He hadn't finished.  

He simply decided to move to the other side!

This time the strikes were not so bearable.  I started to kick and I tried to chew at the pillow.  Eventually I bleated "For goodness sake you've swatted me on the same spot five times!!!" So he moved lower and gave my sit spots a good warm up in order that the colour matched the rest of my rear.

I burst into tears. Dan stopped and threw down the belt in relief. Then all hell broke loose.

"Oh shit! What have I done?!"

My crying stopped immediately and my heartbeat went berserk. I shot upright clasping my glowing bottom and looked anxiously at Dan. "What?!!!" I shrieked in horror.

"I've made the most awful mark I've ever seen.  I  hate those things!" He snarled at the belt.

I gasped and turned my bottom to face our full length mirror. 

Yes, it was red and glowing hot enough to fry eggs, and yes, there were a few faint welts but nothing to lose sleep over, and yes, it stung like the dickens, but Dan was pointing to a patch around two inches square that was dark purple. 

All I did was shrug philosophically and climb back on the bed and try to look alluring, and not rub.

He couldn't be comforted. I think the belt has a very short innings in this household. It will be a long time before I can convince him to try it once again.

As for me, I felt fairly good, in fact I couldn't've felt much better.

Stay tuned for Spanking Number 2!