Wednesday 18 November 2015

My Burning Bottom

To be honest, my bottom doesn't burn that often. When it does, I know I have had a spanking that fits into the top 20% category. Let me explain.

I suppose you could divide my spankings up (approximately) into 50% 'because spankings turn us both on', 10% 'quick, meaningful swats', 20% 'reminder/readjustment/stress relief' - and 20% 'You have been a very naughty girl, and you deserve to be spanked' variety. Yes, he has started to use that exact phrase. Yes, my Dan. The one who used to call it Spanky Panky amongst other things. Sigh.

The spankings that fall into the latter group are not pretty. They involve lots of noise and lots of indignation on my side, and lots of stern commands and stoic resignation on Dan's side.

He never spanks in anger. Not ever. He always thinks, considers and ruminates. Sometimes for too long, far too long, so that I either forget anything has happened, or think he has completely forgotten about it. 

Then he acts like a hawk diving on its prey, and I get a whopping to remember! LOL!

Why 'LOL'? Because this was what I asked for in the first place, and what I used to dream of. I used to almost salivate with anticipation, and usually the outcome was more of a damp squib than a spanking to set my butt on fire. 

Now a line has been drawn.

I may not cross that line - or I do so at my own peril.

Dan is not a spontaneous person, and I don't think he ever will be. He reads all the small print about ninety times. 

However, I can now safely admit that what he says goes, and that if I care to disagree in a less than respectful manner, I will suffer the consequences of any words or actions.

The snag is, and I suppose I have this in common with other dd/ttwd wives, I don't know when to keep my mouth shut and let Dan have the last word. I'm getting better, but I am not there yet.

To watch the battle of wills acted out in this household is as engaging as watching an A-list movie. You would almost want to bring popcorn and blue slush!

A week ago I tried Dan's patience to the limit. It lasted on and off all day. It had to do with the fact that our central heating was turned up, but Dan had refused to light the woodburner as he said it was warm enough. I was not warm. So by evening I was in full "moaning wife" mode. I was stamping around with a pashmina round my shoulders looking very pained.

Then, come evening, I realised there was nothing whatsoever on the TV that I wanted to watch. It was all SO BORING. 

Dan was ensconced in his old armchair in the lounge, and I was in the back sitting room determinedly watching Amazon Prime. I watched a film called 'Enough Said' which was slow going, not very good, and I didn't know the actors. I was curled up with a large fluffy throw and in a bad mood.

Part way through the evening Dan appeared, to raid the corner cupboard for a glass of single malt, and he happened to remark how surprised he was that I was in there on my own, when he was enjoying the benefits of a blazing log fire and watching 'Police Interceptors'.

"Well, bully for you." I growled. "I hate Police Interceptors." Then I thought a bit. "Do you mean to tell me that you have been in there with a lovely hot fire while I have been out here freezing to death, and you didn't bother to come and tell me."

Dan smiled evilly at this point. "You told me you were watching a film."

"But only because there was nothing on either Skye or terrestrial worth watching."

I think, at that point, Dan filled his glass, lifted an enquiring eyebrow towards me and the TV set, and left for warmer climes.

Huh! Who does he think he is! He's meant to care for all my bodily comforts! I just sat and seethed.

Eventually I went and got a hot drink and marched off up to bed. It wasn't that warm up there either, in my opinion, but I soon warmed up under the duvet. I huddled down and prepared to sulk. In fact, I was determined to sulk.

I lay there drowsily beginning to feel warm for the first time that day. 

Suddenly the door burst open and Dan stalked noisily into the bedroom.

He wrenched my lovely warm duvet away from me and turned me swiftly on my stomach.

"You've been a very naughty girl today, Ami" he informed me. (I was trying to retrieve the duvet.) "I'm completely fed up with your whining and your disrespectful attitude."

Without warning he bent down and gave me a good dozen or so very hard spanks on my bare bottom with his hand, whilst holding me down by the scruff of my neck. (Yes, this is funny. You are allowed to laugh like drains!)

"I want you downstairs keeping me company for a while, and if you don't appear within the next couple of minutes, I will be back." With that he left the room.

My bottom burning, it didn't even take me half that amount of time to get my self and my bottom down those stairs. 

The blast of heat that hit me as I walked into the lounge nearly took my breath away. I lingered in front of the fire and lifted my robe and seared the remaining bits of my bottom that had escaped his hand. It was so soothing. Give me heat over cold any day. I stretched myself out on the sofa and luxuriated for the next couple of hours. 

The next morning I did feel much better. 

My mood had lightened considerably and I happily went downstairs and made us both a drink and took them back to bed. 

When I entered the bedroom I nearly dropped the tray. Dan was propped up on the headboard in our 'spanking position', paddle in hand. (Have you ever noticed how your bottom literally clenches when confronted by such a scene?)

"But you spanked me last night," I whimpered when my breath returned to my lungs.

"Spanked? That was only a quick 'Do you realise how much you are trying my patience?' spanking. This morning we need to get things sorted. Come here."

It is very hard to come here when confronted with the Big Nipper. It is totally loathsome. My feet genuinely stick to the floor. 

"Do you have to use that?" (Wrong thing to comment on.)

"Get over my lap and stop trying to control the situation."

Dan's look was enough. I draped myself accordingly and prepared to grit my teeth. There was no warmup, just a series of hard, fast swats all to one side.

"You're spanking all on the same spot." I yowled.

"Am I really? Then I'll change sides." 

He then went on to spank exactly the same spot but on the other cheek. Then he started his 'skin-stretching' technique which he knows I hate more than anything. 

Pretty soon I was at the stage where I try to stretch out my legs in the hope that tightening the muscles will deflect the pain. It never works, in fact it makes it worse. Then I try to relax totally. But how can you relax when the skin is being burned off your ass with a thin, snippy, wooden paddle with holes in it?! All these books you read about being spanked, where the woman suddenly relaxes and gives in, are utter bosh! The last thing I want to do is relax and give in! So I kick ferociously for a minute or two. Then Dan's hand comes down hard on the back of my left thigh and he tells me in no uncertain way to lie still and keep the noise down. 

"You'd think you were being murdered", he said. "Do you think I don't know just how to spank you after all this time."

My mind is running for the hills, and I, like many other women here, can only wonder how long this is going on for, and whether or not I will make it to the end.

Tears come. I press my face into the bedding and howl for all I am worth. 

And miraculously, amazingly, the fight and animosity and stress leave me immediately. I feel them seep away leaving me gloopy and relaxed despite the continuing spanking.

Once I cry, the spanking never continues for long. Dan continues to hold me over his knees while I have a good wail. He even hands me a Kleenex, and I blow my nose lustily.

He strokes my back and my bottom. It feels heavenly. He pulls me up and I snuggle into his chest and relax even more, if that can be possible.

He teases my nipples, and then further acts of submission are requested, and I am happy to comply. 

As time goes on and the harder the spankings, the better the love making, and the more powerful the orgasms. And the more determined Dan is to ensure they keep coming. TTWD is a very strange thing.

There is something very satisfying about making love when you have a burning bottom! 

Sunday 15 November 2015

Love Our Lurkers - Year 10!

This day came round so quickly that I got left far behind.

However, for an Ami that is hardly surprising. My life seems to veer from one escapade to another, with frequent reminders dotted along the route.

I remember, oh so well, how I lurked for an entire summer before daring to make a comment. I was nearly beside myself with nervousness.

I am so glad I did. To have found such a bunch of friendly people who live their lives in similar ways to Dan and I, is the BEST THING EVER! 

I want to take the opportunity to say THANK YOU to all my friends here in Blogland. I urge anyone who is uncertain about making a comment, to just go ahead and do it. Just press that button! We are all here waiting to make friends with you!

Saturday 14 November 2015

Saturday Snippets (16)

The lead up to Christmas in our household means a flurry of activity. I like to be prepared and organised as far as all the main food items are concerned, so I begin my preparations early.

22nd November is traditionally known as Stir Up Sunday. Everyone in the family gets a chance to have a stir of the Christmas pudding and to make a wish for the coming year. You should always stir the pudding clockwise to signify the Wisemen going from East to West. It is also traditional to insert a coin into your Christmas pudding, although views differ as to when this should take place. If you are lucky enough to have a silver coin, it is quite safe to insert it before the pudding is cooked, but always give the coin a good wash first using washing up liquid. I use an old-fashioned sixpence. The person who is lucky enough to get this coin in their portion of Christmas pudding gets extra luck.

I thought that maybe you might like my Christmas pudding recipe, so here it is:

Christmas Pudding Recipe


9 oz ready to eat prunes, chopped
3.5 oz glace cherries, halved
5fl oz stout
2 tbsp brandy
9 oz fresh white breadcrumbs
2.75 oz blanched almonds, chopped
Finely grated zest and juice of 1 orange
Finely grated zest and juice of 1 lemon
8 oz soft brown sugar
1 large carrot, peeled and finely grated
3.5 oz ground almonds
5 oz plain flour
1 tsp ground mixed spice
Half a tsp freshly ground nutmeg
9 oz beef or vegetable suet, shredded
3 medium eggs, lightly beaten
2 large cooking apples, peeled and coarsely grated


1 Mix all the ingredients together in your largest mixing bowl and stir well (make sure all the family make a wish during the stirring). Cover tightly with cling-film and leave to stand in a cool place overnight.

2 Turn into one (or more, if smaller) well-buttered pudding basins and cover with a pleated circle of both baking parchment and aluminium foil, securing with string. Place in a saucepan on an improvised trivet and pour boiling water to come halfway up the sides of the pudding. Cover and bring to the boil, then turn down to a simmer for 30 minutes slow simmering.

3 Transfer the pudding, water and pan, to the floor of the oven and continue to simmer at around 100 degrees (or whatever heat is a simmer in your oven). Cook for at least 12 hours in this way (overnight is preferable). 

4 Remove from the pans and allow to cool. Brush the surface of the pudding(s) with brandy and then cover with fresh parchment and foil coverings and string. Store in a cool, dark and dry place or in the refrigerator until Christmas.

Don't forget that when you serve your Christmas pudding, to pour a goodly slug of rum or brandy over the top and then set fire to it. It will burn with a blue flame. It should then be carried carefully to the dining table with as much ceremony as possible! It's also traditional to decorate the top of the pudding with a sprig of holly, but do this after you have placed it on the table, or you might be calling the fire brigade!

Christmas Mincemeat

This is dead simple to make.


1 lb cooking apples, cored and chopped small (no need to peel them)
8 oz shredded suet (either beef or vegetable)
12 oz raisins
8 oz sultanas
8 oz currants
8 oz whole mixed candied peel, finely chopped
12 oz soft dark brown sugar
Grated zest and juice of 2 oranges
Grated zest and juice of 2 lemons
2 oz whole almonds, cut into slivers
4 tsps mixed ground spice
Half a tsp ground cinnamon
Nutmeg, grated
6 tbsps brandy


1 All you do is combine the above ingredients, except for the brandy, in a large mixing bowl, stirring them and mixing them together very thoroughly indeed. 

Then cover the bowl with a clean cloth and leave the mixture in a cool place overnight or for 12 hours, so the flavours have a chance to mingle and develop. After that pre-heat the oven to Gas Mark 1 quarter, 225 degrees F or 120 degrees C, cover the bowl loosely with foil and place it in the oven for 3 hours.

2 Then remove the bowl from the oven and don't worry about the appearance of the mincemeat, which will look positively swimming in fat. This is how it should look. As it cools, stir it from time to time; the fat will coagulate and instead of it being in tiny shreds it will encase all the other ingredients. When the mincemeat is quite cold, stir in the brandy. Pack in clean, dry jars, cover with wax discs and seal. It will keep in a cool, dark cupboard indefinitely, but I think it is best eaten within a year of making. 

Traditional Mince Pies


12 oz plain flour
3 oz lard (I use Trex which is vegetarian, but you can use traditional lard if you wish)
3 oz margarine or butter
A pinch of salt
Cold water to mix
1.25 lb mincemeat (hopefully you made this earlier)

For the top:

A little milk
Icing sugar

Pre-heat the oven to Gas Mark 6, 400 degrees F, 200 degrees C.


1 Make up the pastry by sifting the flour and salt into a mixing bowl and rubbing the fats into it until the mixture resembles fine bread crumbs. Alternatively, you can whiz it all around in a food processor, which is what I do. Then just add enough cold water to mix to a dough that leaves the bowl clean. Leave the pastry to rest in a polythene bag in the refrigerator for 20-30 minutes, then roll half of it out as thinly as possible and cut it into 24 3-inch rounds, gathering up the scraps and re-rolling. Then do the same with the other half of the pastry, this time using the 2.5 inch cutter. (You can also, if you prefer, cut out some 'star shapes' and place these on top instead.)

2 Now grease the patty tins lightly and line them with the larger rounds. Fill these with mincemeat to the level of the edges of the pastry. Dampen the edges of the smaller rounds of pastry with water and press them lightly into position to form lids, sealing the edges. Brush each one with milk and make three snips in the tops with a pair of scissors. Bake near the top of the oven for 25-30 minutes until light golden brown. Cool on a wire tray and sprinkle with icing sugar. When cool, store in an airtight tin.

Hot Spiced Cider with Roasted Apples

I may have shared this recipe before, but I know from experience that a glass of something warm and spicy goes very well with warmed mince pies during the party season, especially if you are greeting guests who are rubbing frosty fingers and shaking snow off their boots!

4 pints still, dry cider
8 oz soft brown sugar
24 whole cloves
4 whole cinnamon sticks
16 allspice berries
The juice of 2 oranges
Half a whole nutmeg, grated
8 small Cox's apples
2 oz butter

Pre-heat oven to Gas Mark 5, 375 degrees F, 190 degrees C


1 First, using a small sharp knife, make a small slit around the 'waist' of each apple, then rub each one with butter. Place them on a baking sheet and bake in the oven for 20-25 minutes - they should be softened but not floppy, so test them with s skewer. Put all the other ingredients into a large saucepan and heat the mixture, stirring quite often, and adding the apples halfway through. Don't let it come right to the boil, just keep it at a steady simmer! Serve it very hot.

2 When you're ready to serve, pour it into a large warmed bowl (I serve straight from the pan, using a soup ladle!) and ladle into glass beer tankards with handles. Spoons in the glass will prevent cracking.

I hope to get my Lurkers Day post up in a day or two. It sort of crept up on me this year and I am a bit late, but I do so appreciate everyone's comments and really love it when someone new plucks up the courage to say something. If you are lurking right now, why not try one of my recipes and let me know how you got on?

Saturday 7 November 2015

Lest We Forget

My favourite war poet is Wilfred Owen. One of his poems, perhaps less well known, is Exposure. I can't help but feel how appropriate the words are for our soldiers on the front line today. The waiting, the uncertainty.

This is for our service personnel everywhere, living and dead, especially those who are known only to God. We salute you, and we will never cease to be thankful.

Our brains ache, in the merciless iced east winds that knife us,
Wearied we keep awake because the night is silent,
Low drooping flares confuse our memory of the salient.
Worried by silence, sentries whisper, curious, nervous,
But nothing happens.

Watching, we hear the mad gusts tugging on the wire
Like twitching agonies of men among its brambles.
Northward incessantly, the flickering gunnery rumbles
Far off, like a dull rumour of some other war.
What are we doing here?

The poignant misery of dawn begins to grow.
We only know war lasts, rain soaks, and clouds sag stormy.
Dawn massing in the east her melancholy army
Attacks once more in ranks on shivering ranks of grey,
And nothing happens.

Sudden successive flights of bullets streak the silence
Less deadly than the air that shudders black with snow.
With sidelong flowing flakes that flock, pause and renew,
We watch them wandering up and down the wind's nonchalance,
But nothing happens.

Pale flakes with lingering stealth come feeling for our faces,
We cringe in holes, back on forgotten dreams, and stare, snow-dazed,
Deep into grassier ditches. So we drowse, sun-dozed,
Littered with blossoms trickling where the blackbird fusses.
Is it that we are dying?

Slowly our ghosts drag home; glimpsing the sunk fires glozed
With crusted dark-red jewels; crickets jingle there,
For hours the innocent mice rejoice; the house is theirs;
Shutters and doors all closed; on us the doors are closed -
We turn back to our dying.

Since we believe not otherwise, can kind fires burn?
Now ever suns smile true on child, or field, or fruit.
For God's invincible spring our love is made afraid,
Therefore, not loath, we lie out here; therefore were born,
For love of God seems dying.

Tonight, His frost will fasten on this mud and us,
Shrivelling many hands and puckering foreheads crisp.
The burying-party picks and shovels in their shaking grasp
Pause over half-known faces. All their eyes are ice.
But nothing happens.

Wilfred Owen

Died 4 November, 1918

Friday 6 November 2015

My Husband and I...

I am always one for a meme, so I had to get on the bandwagon and tell you a little more about Dan.

1  Name a favourite movie of his. Do you like it too?

He can watch the film 'Taken' over and over and never get bored of it. 

2  Just tell us something you cook or bake that makes him happy. Do you add something that makes it special?

My fish pie made with smoked haddock and tiger prawns, and also my Cottage pie with a goodish amount of homemade blackberry wine added. As I love to cook for my man (for any man - I should love to cook for big truckers in a transport cafe!!! LOL!) there is probably a list of his favourite meals. 

3  What does he wear to bed?

He sleeps au naturelle like me.

4  Does he have or has he ever grown a beard or moustache?

He grew a moustache once when we were in the early years of our marriage. I thought it looked a bit like a dead rat on his upper lip. It didn't linger for long, happily. Although, over here in England, it is now the month of MouVember when all men are meant to grow moustaches for a chosen charity. So maybe I will get him to grow one again.

5  If they were going to make a movie of your husband, what actor would you pick to play him?

Pierce Brosnan without a doubt. Dan is a bit of an old smoothie.

6  Who is neater around the house, you or him? Then give us an example.

We are both about the same, but Dan is the 'squirrel' and tends to hang on to things like grim death, including bits of wood or iron that just might (ha!) come in handy some day.

7  If you could buy him tickets to any concert (past or present) who would it be?

Tina Turner or maybe Led Zeppelin. We've been to both.

8  Does he wear a wedding ring? Do you care?

He wore his wedding ring for all of 24 hours. Seriously. It has been in my jewellery box ever since. He is not a 'ring' sort of a man. They don't go with maintenance on old items of farm machinery. And no, I don't mind at all as I should hate him to lose a finger.

9  How old was he and how old were you when you met? What else do you remember about that day?

He was 17 and I was 16. We met at a school dance and he says he wanted to meet me because I was wearing a Mary Quant mini dress with a large keyhole cut out of the back.

10  If he was the one to choose an ethnic restaurant for dinner out, what would he choose?

He loves Chinese, but we also love Greek and Polish food.

11  Is there a photo of him as a child you find especially endearing? Tell us about it.

Dan wears contacts and there is a photo of him as a small boy wearing old-fashioned round framed glasses that is very, very cute.

12  If you were going to choose a dress in a colour just to please him, what colour would it be?

I love the colour blue, but Dan is colourblind and gets mixed up and would probably think it was green or grey. I don't think he has a preference, but he ALWAYS tells me if he doesn't like something I am wearing, so I usually take him shopping with me when I am buying dresses or smart outfits. I value his opinion, and if I know he doesn't like something, I get no enjoyment out of wearing it.

13  Do you (or did you) love his mother?

Dan's mother is wonderful. She is the best MIL in the world. I couldn't ask for better.

14  Name a famous person he really admires.

He likes clever and interesting people, and people with a sense of humour. I don't think he has a favourite. 

15  How does your husband take his tea or coffee?

Dan is a tea drinker through and through. He likes Yorkshire tea the best, with milk and one sweetener.

16  Does your man know how to dance? Is it something you both enjoy?

We used to dance much more than we do these days as we used to get asked to lots of balls. There don't seem to be so many "occasions" any more. We both dance apart from the Foxtrot which neither of us have ever mastered. We like to Waltz the best and I was brought up doing the continental waltz where you are constantly turning, and the polka. I just love the polka!

Thanks to Ella, who I believe put this meme together for us all to enjoy.