Story - The Business at Hand

Yet another story from the alt.sex.spanking newsgroup from many moons ago. This time it is a work based story where a male boss gets to cane his female assistant and more. I hope you enjoy it although the it is not a female spanking male story that seem to get more views on the blog.

The Business at Hand

She closed the heavy wooden door, her palm almost cold on the brass knob. The muffled click of the latch seemed unbearably loud. She always felt vulnerable at this precise moment, as if every sound they made must give away what was happening behind the locked door of the executive office. She knew that it wasn't true, knew that no sound she could make short of screaming could escape into the offices beyond, but her fear always made her quiet anyway, always made her bury her face in her arms when she began to make sounds, rather than risk giving herself away.


She turned toward him, not quite able to meet his eyes.

"Clear the top of the desk," he said, his own voice low, not because he was afraid of being heard, but because he liked to make her listen carefully to hear him.

She looked up into his face now, the first order making her ready to plead. "Please. I'm sorry."

There was no anger in his face, but there was also no hint of sympathy for her mounting distress. He nodded toward the large oak desk, and she made herself walk over to it, moving telephone, framed photograph and paperweight off to a nearby window sill.

"Careful with those papers," he said more sternly, as she picked up the proposal from Delaney & Associates. "And as for being sorry -- I'm sure you *are* sorry, my dear. But I'm afraid you are going to be a good deal sorrier. It's not as if I haven't had to correct you before about your unprofessional conduct, is it?"

"No, sir," she whispered. No. Not a week passed when she did not find herself with him behind this locked door, her heart beating out the same erratic pattern of apprehension and disbelief at her predicament. Sometimes he hauled her across his lap and spanked her with a hardwood ruler as she kicked and cried and promised that she would dress and act appropriately from now on. Sometimes he bent her over the back of a chair, doubling his stiff leather trouser belt in his hand and whipping it across her bottom and thighs until she was reddened and tearful.

And sometimes, like today, he made her bend over the desk and wait, heart pounding, as he dispassionately tapped her bared bottom with the thin rattan cane, then raised his arm to give her six or twelve or even more cuts that made her press her face hard into the desk to stifle the cries she couldn't help but make.

The cane was meant to communicate serious disapproval for especially egregious breaches of conduct. "Delaney and Associates are offering us access to a whole new revenue stream." His voice continued quiet as she added her heavy silk blouse to the pile on the window sill, and took her place at the side of the desk. "That is the business at hand today, and they will be here in less than an hour. Not the best of times for you to play the slut with me, is it?"

She hated to answer, but knew better than to make him repeat the question. "No, sir. I was wrong to...to be asking you to..." She stumbled over her words.

"Asking me? Telling me, I think. Yes, dear, you were wrong to tell me to fuck you. You're not in position yet." He had dropped his voice another notch, and she hastily bent over the desk, her arms stretched in front of her, the back of her legs tight, her bottom almost aching already from mingled anticipation and dread.

She heard him move behind her and so did not flinch too strongly when she felt his hands on her skirt. Her face burned as he pushed the skirt slowly to her waist. "No panties. Garter belt and stockings with a skirt that barely comes to your knees. What do you deserve for dressing this way on the day of an important meeting?"

His first hard slap on her behind drowned out the automatic, "I'm sorry..." of her reply. She gasped a little, then gasped louder at the second slap, two balanced centers of pain burning now on each side of her bottom.

The rub of his hand on her stinging bottom made her relax again, as if she didn't know what was coming next. "You deserve a caning, don't you?" He didn't wait for her answer. "Twelve strokes, Jo. But first..."

But first he would spank her with his hand until she was hot and sore and sorry. A warm-up he called it, though it always hurt enough that she was ready to promise to be good well before he was finished. Spankings hurt. It _hurts_, she would cry, sooner or later.

It's supposed to hurt, he would tell her. And spank her harder.

His hand came down again on the curve of her bottom. She moaned and shifted her position slightly. His left hand rested on the small of her back, keeping her from shifting far. The spanks came hard and steady now, moving from side to side, stinging her from hip to thigh. Was each spank really slightly harder than the last? Or was the growing heat and soreness in her bottom just making each spank harder to take?

She lifted one foot, then the other. The next slaps were definitely harder, and she ran one high-heeled toe helplessly down the back of her left leg. The next spanks fell so harshly on the top of her thighs that tears welled up in her eyes.

"Feet stay on the floor, correct?"

"I'm sorry!" She pressed both feet to the floor, but the harshness did not abate. Her skin burned as the spanks fell, fast and hard, everywhere at once.

Please. It hurts.

It's supposed to hurt.

Thirty spanks, forty, fifty. He finally stopped and stepped back away from her. She lay there crying, feeling small, punished, sorry, knowing the worst was still to come -- though not the worst she had feared. Not today.

The knowledge was small comfort as she heard him move to the traditional barrister's bookcase in the corner. Her stomach suddenly fluttered with fear. What would he do when he opened the door and found...

"No cane? Where's the cane, Jo?"

His voice was as soft as a lover's. Suddenly she wished she had not tried this. She kept her own voice as steady as possible when she said, "Last night, I -- I waited until everyone had left. And I took it home."

"Without my permission?"

She began to cry. "Please, I just couldn't bear to be caned. Not today. It's too much." She held her hands together on the desk, wishing she could stop the trembling. The silence beat down on her harder than the spanking that had just paused. No, she reminded herself, not ended. Just paused. Her voice was low and tearful as she promised, "I'll bring it back."

"Yes. Tomorrow." He didn't say anything else for a moment, and a small wave of relief moved through her. He would cane her even longer next time, she supposed, but _not_ today. Today he would have to fall back on belt or ruler or hand, and she could take those far more easily. She turned her head a little, feeling an unaccustomed, but not unwelcome, moment of triumph in his company.

A moment only. He was standing near the window, his hands disconnecting the blind rod from its holders. She forgot everything and stood. "What are you _doing_?" Stupid question, part of her observed. It was very clear what he was doing as the slim clear plastic rod came free in his hands. "No. No, you _can't_."

He tapped the rod in his hand. "Anyone would think you had never been taught the first lesson in obedience, my dear." His voice was casual, conversational. "So this lesson will have to be a more painful one. Back in position."

She couldn't move at first, each detail of the tableau sharp to her frozen body: her black crepe skirt bunched around her waist, her bare arms and midriff shivering, though not from cold, her heated bottom throbbing with pain, helpless with lust, his own lust plain through his trousers, and the silent menace of the rod, tapping in his hand.

"Now."

The sudden harshness of his voice unlocked her movements. She bent back over the desk and stretched out her arms, moaning as he rested the rod across her behind. Her first faint hope, that he wouldn't give her the full twelve strokes with _this_, died as he said, "Twenty-five strokes, Jo."

Her second, fainter hope, that it wouldn't hurt as much as she feared died as he raised the rod and brought it down, full across her bottom. She cried out loud, too pained to keep quiet. She cried louder at the second blow across her thighs. She felt his restraining hand in the small of her back as her own hands scrabbled frantically at the top of the desk and as the rod fell again and again. She began to sob, the pain unbearable, her lust unendurable.

Pain and lust grew together until finally he could tell her, "Only three strokes more." She wondered what she looked like. What he saw as he stood behind her that made his own breath so thick. What she would see when she locked herself into a bathroom later to take a shy look in the mirror at her own marked bottom.

This stripe surely, that crossed three earlier strokes at the top of her bottom. And this blow to her thighs that made her weep and writhe. And this final, awful stroke, in the crease of her bottom and thighs, where several strokes had already left her bruised and pained.

She lay there weeping, too spent and aching and longing to even try to move from position or to evade -- as if she wanted to -- the hand he ran so lightly now over her bottom, his fingers straying between her legs. He'd want to be sure she was wet enough, and she always was, her cunt lips as slick as her tear- stained face sliding across her own arm.

Her sob turned to a groan that rose from her center as he sank into her from behind, no foreplay, no warning, no need for either. She pushed her burning ass against him, not finding coolness there, but not needing it either. Not needing his sympathy, not needing his soothing, not yet, no, just needing him, as deep inside her as she could hold.

The tears ran freely down her face as he wound one hand in her hair, as if to steady himself as he moved inside her, fast and hard, the rhythm of the spanking replaying now in this urgent fuck. She could feel herself rising, rising, rising, pressing her hips in frantic circles that matched the desperate rubbing of her fingers between her legs.

And as she came close to her release, he used his free hand to spank her again. Again. Again. The sharp little pains only fueled her urgency now, and she rubbed harder, harder, clenching around his cock until her coming ripped through and through her.

It hurts. It feels too good.

It's supposed to.

Everything dissolved now into a wet writhe, her slowing fingers, his grinding cock where her cunt was most needy and aching.

"Please. Let me feel you come now, too," she begged, and finally it was the moment for his surrender, too, as he cried out hoarsely and shuddered inside her. This was the triumph to which she was accustomed, the exultation she knew and loved. He held her hair, pressed himself against the ass he had spanked and marked and punished, stood almost completely dressed behind her half-naked body, but it was she who felt all her own power in a rush now, even though his own heated wetness made the aftershocks of her orgasm almost painful as her coming spun out for another minute, another eternity.

She felt swallowed up in passion. She ran her fingers back between her legs, then brought them to her lips, lightly, lightly tasting. When he finally helped her up, she wrapped her arms around his neck and licked his face, too, wanting every salted wetness she could find. He kissed her back, pulling against her bottom to hold her close against him and she melted into his embrace, every need finally met.

Afterward, the parting rituals. Glasses of icy water from the pitcher. Small towels -- some dry, some damp -- from the adjoining bathroom. Cleaning, cooling each other. Clothes back in place: pants zipped, blouse buttoned, belt buckled. Her slip and skirt pulled gingerly over her sore bottom. Tender words, but not too many. Not with Delaney and Associates on their way, almost here.

"Now," he said, resuming authority. "Straighten up that desk. Unless you want more punishment."

"Yes, sir," she murmured, deliberately ambiguous. Yes, I'll straighten the desk. But I always, always want more.

She replaced the papers and tools and knickknacks. She slipped her jacket off the door hook and slipped it on. She reached to unlatch the door when the telephone on the desk buzzed. She looked at him, still obedient, and he nodded curtly toward the phone. She blushed as she returned to the desk, leaned over and punched the appropriate button.

"Yes?"

"Susan Delaney from Delaney and Associates is here for a 2:00 meeting."

"Thank you." He had already opened the door, his head partially obscuring the trim plaque reading "J. Haynes, CFO."

"And thank you," she said softly, walking to the door. "Especially today."

He held her gaze one moment more, and she flushed. He smiled knowingly and said, "We have more to discuss about proper office behavior, my dear. At five."

She looked meekly down one more time, then he slipped out into the hall. With affection, she watched him walk away.

"Jo?"

She turned and extended her hand to the sleek blonde woman dressed in an equally sleek navy suit. "Susan, I'm delighted you brought your proposal to us first."

"Anything for an old college buddy, right? Seriously, I'm glad you think we might be able to work on this together."

Jo nodded. "Come on in and we'll talk."

"Done babysitting interns for the day?" Susan made a wry gesture at the man who had stopped to talk with the marketing director. "Sorry, that's outrageous of me, but honestly, don't you get tired of these little MBA hopefuls with their abundance of theories and shortage of experience?"

Jo laughed, gesturing Susan toward a chair and using the pretence of looking once more at the Delaney and Associates proposal as an excuse to lower herself very slowly, very carefully into her own chair. "Oh, I don't know," she said, her smile also slow and careful. "Some of them seem to know just what they're doing. Downright masterful, some of them."

She gave one more grateful thought to the way he had cleared away, again, all her angst and stress and confusion. Then she turned her full attention to the business at hand.

Pictures - Group Sex

One of the things I have always been fascinated about is group sex, but it is something I have never really tried and probably never will for a number of reasons, one of which is it isn't something Ms.Kinky is into. However I have done something a little similar, but that is for another day and it happened a couple of times, pre Ms.Kinky, but that can wait for another day. In the mean time, please enjoy a few pictures I found.


Well I hope you liked my little selection of pictures and I promise a longer post on the group sex one day and another on my similar experience I mentioned. For those that like thee spanking stuff we will be returning to that tomorrow with another story for your pleasure. Hope you are all having a great kinky week where ever you are.

Spanking Parties

One of the things I did many years ago when I started in the spanking scene was to attend spanking parties and it something i do today with Ms.Kinky. With one coming up next weekend all home spanking are off for the week other than those of the playful kind we sometimes use in love making.


Personally I think a well organised party, be it free or paid for, is a good place to start spanking, and if you can't find one you could consider a spanking professional until you can. The advantage is that it is a safe place to meet people whatever your sex and it a great place to learn too. You might think it is simple spanking people but to learn to cane safely or use a flogger erotically can take time to master and parties are a great way to tap other peoples experiences and skills.

 I love going to parties, it just the fun of the whole event and the socialising. The spanking may be the main event but it the fun to be had doing it too. It's not an erotic thing as such but a people thing. Being with people with the same outlook on life is so much fun and seeing all the warm bottoms and warming a few too is just a bonus. Not that I get my bottom warmed, I tend to be a top at such events but knowing when I get home Ms.Kinky will have her revenge keeps me nicely in check as far as her bottom goes!

Female Form

Women come in shapes and sizes, one just has to look at tumblr to see that and thankfully men are all different too and like women of all different shapes and sizes There is no single perfect shape for a woman despite what the fashion industry would have us all believe. In fact it more about the presentation of the body that can make it a turn on than the shape or the size of a woman.


For years I have believed that fashion industry should acknowledge the fact that most women have fuller and rounder figures than the models they use. They should help promote a healthy body shape and not one that appears to have been half starved. After all what is the point in designing and showing off clothes only the super thin can buy and wear. Hardly something that is going to lead to great sales if nobody can fit into them.

Of course we all have our own opinion on what looks good, for example I think a body like the one in the picture is perfect. It full and rounded and although I can she the girls bottom I'm sure it is full and round and would be great fun to spank. That not to say that I don't like other body shapes too. A larger woman with large breasts in a corset is an amazing sight as is a thinner girl in the right clothes. I think what women miss is the fact that men like women, period, and it not about shape and size at all. We might have ideal shapes and sizes we like, but that we don't dislike other shapes and sizes of the female form. In fact if anything it is the fact women come in such a variety that makes them all the more interesting.

I know women want to lose weight some times to boast their confidence, and I can understand that, but it is the press and the fashion industry that causes them to lose some of it. It is about time that the former lived in the real world and understood that not all women are thin and emaciated like many of the models that walk the world stage of fashion. If women and men weren't given images and expectations of thinness and instead were presented with images of real women then some women would have lost their confidence in the first place.

It is about time that something was done to redress the balance and if the fashion industry can't act themselves then may be it is time for Governments to intervene to promote a more normal and healthy body shape. And finaly to the women out there, let me say you are all beautiful what ever your size and shape.

Story - Accidental Apprentice

 In one of the comments on last weeks story, 'Megan's Law', a post by the name of treffor mentioned the story went together with the story 'Accidental Apprentice', well here is that story. In his comment he went on to say it gave a 'keen insight into why some men(me) accept being spanked and need it'. If you are a man and your spanked it would be interesting to hear if you agree.

Accidental Apprentice

"Would you like to explain how this happened?" Jennifer demanded irritably, waving a thin slip of paper in her husband's face.


Danny looked down fearfully at Jennifer's feet, one of which was tapping slowly, like an angry cat's tail. He risked a glance at Jenny's friend Megan, who was standing nearby in the doorway to the kitchen, a look of wonderment and excitement on her face. She had never seen a woman so completely intimidate a man, especially a larger man, with so few words. Danny stalled for time, hoping the moment would pass, trying to avoid what he knew was coming. Without warning, a stinging slap brought his head up, as Jennifer's right hand smartly contacted his left cheek.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you!" she ordered him, her normally cool blue eyes now frosty with anger.

The red mark left by her fingers disappeared almost instantly as her surprised and humiliated spouse flushed full red, the color rising to his cheeks and ears. Megan watched with growing interest and not a little awe as Jennifer backed her man up, the larger Danny retreating before his wife's advance. It was similar to a lioness backing down her mate, the pretty redhead thought, a little smile coloring her face. Danny was now sputtering like a wet candle, glancing quickly from his beautiful Jenny, now thoroughly mad, to Megan, looking for solace where there was none to be found.

"Uh - um, I, er, wait a minute, Jen. I meant to take care of it, honest!" he babbled, watching Jennifer's right hand for signs of movement.

Megan saw Jenny's eyes narrow as she venomously confronted the shocked and embarrassed Danny;

"This is a summons to appear in court, you idiot! I got stopped and nearly arrested for driving an unregistered and un-inspected vehicle! You promised me you'd take care of this last week!"

Fuming, she regarded her still sputtering man, adding,

"Megan and I had to do some slick talking to the police, and believe me, mister, we're going to make you pay for our inconvenience."

Danny's face went gray, his breathing shallow and rapid as he stood silently waiting for Jennifer to drop the bomb. He fidgeted nervously, knowing what was going to happen to him, but powerless to do anything about it. Jennifer was on the warpath, and he was right in the way.

She leaned back a bit, folding her arms across her chest, the red-painted tips of her slim, tapered fingers drumming on her sweater sleeves, showing her annoyance.

"Well?" she demanded, "I'm waiting for your lame excuse. Or would you rather get spanked without even trying to explain yourself?"

The poor man nearly collapsed. Mortified beyond belief, he looked at first Jennifer and then her friend with a beseeching glance, blushing even more deeply at the broad grin on Megan's face.

"Spanked?" Megan thought to herself, wanting to laugh out loud. "Jennifer spanks him?" her mind continued the thread, "Oh, wow. This I've got to see; and what had she said about both of them making him pay?" It was becoming more interesting by the moment. She turned her attention back to the hapless Danny, who was still struggling.

Fumbling for words, he finally managed to stutter,

"I - I forgot, hon." He pleaded, not wanting to look at her, but afraid to take his eyes away, lest her palm bring them back by force. Rubbing his left cheek in recollection, he continued,

"I'm sorry, really, I just...." the words trailed off as he saw his wife's face darken.

At five-seven to his five-nine, Jennifer was on an even plane with him in her high heels. This put them eyeball to eyeball, and Danny didn't like what he saw. The beautiful ash-blonde woman before him was intimidating enough as it was, with a stunning figure and classically pretty face. From full, firm breasts right down to a trim waist, sensational hips and well-turned legs, she was a knockout; Danny would do anything for her, including submit to whatever form of discipline she decreed. In most cases, that meant spanking, and not the little-boy, mommy's hand behind the glove counter paddling; but long, hard, over-the-knee bottom warmings that left no doubt in his mind who was in charge.

Now, Megan's eyes had taken on an excited luster as she watched the scene play itself out. Jennifer had Danny pinned under her gaze, making him sweat just a while more before lowering the boom.

"You forgot." She said flatly, "I see."

Her tone was sarcastic, making her ill-fated husband, now looking more like a naughty teen-ager, cringe with every word. With a sickly look, he managed a sheepish grin, hoping for forgiveness.

"Stee-rike!" Megan thought silently, thinking she could almost see steam coming out of Jenny's ears.

"Well, Danny boy, I guess we'll just have to give you something to help you remember from now on, won't we?" Jenny said tersely, "and as for being sorry, I promise you you're going to be much, much sorrier before we're done with you.

Megan's pulse jumped as an adrenaline surge hit her. "There was that `we' again! Jennifer was including her in Danny's punishment!" her mind raged.

Taking her thoroughly subdued husband by the arm, Jennifer led him over to the couch, sitting down and looking up at her now trembling man. Megan's breath quickened, and other physical reactions began to take place as she watched raptly.

"Take those jeans down, young man." Jennifer ordered him, smoothing out her navy blue mini-skirt, which had ridden up to mid-thigh.

"Please, Jen." He pleaded, not daring to look at Megan, "Please don't; not here, not now." His heart was pounding in his ears as Jennifer looked up at him, totally implacable.

"Now, little man," She affirmed, "and right now, or I'll make you regret it, and the next time you talk back to me, I'll really give you something to be sorry for!"

Realizing she was not kidding, Danny dropped his jeans around his feet, standing there blushing even harder. Jennifer wasn't done with him, however. With a wickedly evil tone, she commanded,

"Now your underpants, and take them all the way down to your ankles."

Turning beet red, Danny obeyed, and as the moon shot took place, Megan heard him give a suppressed groan of embarrassment and frustration. She smiled at the ludicrous sight of him baring his cute buns to be spanked, and considered how she would feel having her own husband Ted in the same situation. Her smile broadened.

As Danny finished taking down the last bastion of modesty, Jennifer grasped him firmly by the left ear, pulling him down towards her lap. As he began to go across her knees, she scolded him.

"You ought to be ashamed of yourself, having to be put over my knee like a naughty little boy, in front of Megan."

She let that hang in the air for a moment, and then added,

"You're going to be even more ashamed when you go over her knee, after I've finished with you."

Danny gave out with another groan, wanting to protest, but knowing better than to try. Now fully across his wife's lap, he partially supported himself with both hands, waiting for the first spank to fall. With a surreptitious wink at her friend, Jennifer slapped her husband's bare bottom, hard. Megan couldn't help but be surprised by the sharp sound of it, which was quickly followed by another, and another, the slaps coming hard and fast. Danny's bottom clenched and squirmed as Jennifer's firm hand spanked away, and before long the color of his bottom was trying to rival the pretty woman's painted nails. An occasional grunt or gasp was heard as Danny tried to be stoic in the presence of a stranger.

For the next several minutes, Jennifer focused her complete attention on stinging her errant husband's bare bottom, scolding him as she spanked, her words punctuated by the crisp smacking sounds of her palm doing its work.

"You forgot, did you?" she snarled, adding a few spanks, "Well maybe I should improve your memory more often, little man, right over my knee like this!"

Spank after smarting spank fell mercilessly on Danny's behind, making him squirm and twitch, eventually prompting a series of thin yelps as his wife's hand smacked a particularly tender area several times in succession. Megan was nearly breathless when her friend finished, her smile replaced by a look of respect for the determined blonde who had so thoroughly punished her completely intimidated spouse.

Grasping Danny's ear, Jennifer had him stand, warning him,

"You rub that naughty bottom, mister, and you'll go right back over my knee! Now go stand in the corner, like the bad little boy you are, while Megan and I discuss the rest of your punishment."

One red-tipped nail pointed the direction to him unmistakably, and he went, his face a perfect match to his flaming bottom. Megan felt a twinge of sympathy as she saw the poor man's misty eyes, his ego completely shattered. Jennifer was motioning her to come over, and she went, taking a seat next to her on the sofa. Before Jennifer could say anything, Megan asked excitedly,

"How do you handle him so easily? I've never seen anything like that! Could I do that with my Teddy? That was amazing! I can't tell you how often I've wanted to warm his bottom for him, the way he acts, sometimes."

Jennifer smiled, pushing her sweater sleeves up. Holding Megan's eyes, she began to explain.

"It's simple. All men are really just little boys inside. They want and need, much less deserve, the guidance and discipline of a strong and determined woman. All it takes is firmness and determination. Once you realize you can command the situation with the right attitude, it's not difficult at all."

Jennifer saw the light bulb go on over Megan's head. She added a few thoughts to reinforce the lesson.

"You must remember to be absolutely firm with him; no nonsense. He'll try to beg off, to reason, cajole, lie, use every little-boy trick he knows to get away with things. You mustn't let him. It has to be completely clear to him that misbehavior gets punished; period. And when you think he needs discipline, it happens; no plea-bargaining, no delay."

As she regarded her pretty red-haired friend, Jennifer saw a new look of confidence and authority take its place on her features at the full realization of her birthright as a woman.

"Do you think you can spank Danny, now? And do you want to?" Jenny asked her friend, giving her a choice.

"Yes. And Yes." Megan committed, a look of resolution on her face.

"Great." Jennifer said, smiling. "It will do him a world of good to be humiliated and punished by another woman; one who he inconvenienced by his thoughtless behavior."

Rising, she retrieved a straight-backed chair from the dining area, bringing it to the center of the living room. With a sly glance at Megan, she pointed at the chair and then walked over to her husband, who was standing with his nose in the corner. Danny's ears were burning from the women's conversation, but his bottom had cooled off a little. Jennifer slapped him smartly on the rump, and informed him,

"Megan's got something to give you, my naughty little boy. You just march yourself over there and apologize for what you did, and then turn over her knee. If you give her any trouble, I'll make you wish you hadn't, am I clear?"

Danny looked like he wanted to argue, which prompted Jennifer to still his lips with one finger and warn icily,

"After you apologize, the only things I want to hear out of your mouth between now and when I tuck you in bed tonight are `Yes, ma'am', and `No, ma'am"; understand?"

"Yes, ma'am." His subdued answer came softly.

"Very well. Now do as you were told." She finished, pointing to Megan, who had taken a seat on the newly located dining room chair.

His face scarlet, Danny approached Megan, stammering an apology, almost breaking into tears from frustration and embarrassment. The now confident redhead patted her right knee, which was peeking out from under a Kelly-green knit dress that did nothing to hide her stunning figure. Five-feet ten inches tall, Megan was an intimidating presence in heels, and even sitting down presented a regal air. Jennifer's chagrined spouse obeyed the gesture, turning across her lap, his bare bottom up and ready to be spanked.

With a confirming look at Jenny, who nodded in encouragement, Megan slapped Danny on one cheek, smartly, but a bit tentatively. With slightly more authority, she whapped him on the other side, noticing how his cheeks clenched when her hand struck. She liked the feel of it, her hand against his upturned bottom, and before long she was really whacking him, enjoying his squirming and the little noises he made as she spanked. Jennifer was watching with obvious approval, observing that Megan was laying it on good and proper, making her Danny distinctly uncomfortable. What began as a tentative experiment for Megan turned into a prolonged and very thorough spanking, her large hand visiting every square inch of Danny's bare bottom. If she could have seen the look on her own face, Megan would have been surprised. The picture was classic: a resolute and determined young woman with a wayward young man across her knees, his bottom being soundly spanked. After giving him a much longer spanking than Jennifer had, Megan's hand was beginning to feel the smarting too, so she stopped at last, looking at Jenny for guidance.

Jennifer used every bit of advantage to punish her husband, asking him sweetly,

"How does my naughty boy feel now, hmmm? Did Aunt Megan warm his bare bottom good and proper?"

She sat back on the couch, her lovely legs crossed, one high heel twirling absently as Danny looked up at her in abject dismay. A simple,

"Yes, ma'am." Came out of his mouth, his voice almost breaking.

"Well, you've got a lot more coming to you, so get up and come over here." Jennifer ordered.

Awkwardly, the well-spanked Danny got up from across Megan's lap, flinching as she gave him a parting swat. The two women grinned thinly at one another, pleased with the way things were going. Jennifer winked slyly at Megan, who felt a new sense of power and control at the center of her being.

"March yourself into the bedroom, little man," Jenny was instructing Danny, "and bring me my hairbrush. Oh, and come back in your birthday suit; you won't be needing any clothing for a while."

Danny looked stricken. His eyes began to water at the prospect of having his bare bottom blistered by both women. Looking pleadingly at his wife, he begged her,

"Please, Jen. I'm really sorry for what I did. I've learned my lesson, honest. Please."

"Ah, ah, remember what I told you?" Jennifer warned sternly, "One more word, and you'll have your mouth washed out with soap, to remind you."

Danny cowered before her, seeming to shrink under her gaze. He replied with a simple,

"Yes, ma'am.";

his shoulders slumping as he obeyed her, trudging off to the bedroom to undress and bring his lovely blonde wife the object she usually employed when punishing him: her large and heavy old-fashioned wooden hairbrush.

"You see?" Jennifer said, smiling brightly at Megan. "It's so easy. All you have to do is take a firm position and stand your ground. When you demand obedience, and require him to comply, it's simple. I'm just giving him what he wants, needs, and deserves, but wouldn't ask for."

Megan nodded, understanding now. She grew thoughtful for a minute, and Jennifer let her have some time to think.

"Well, the naughty boy returns." Jennifer's voice intruded on Megan's thoughts.

She looked up to see a chastened and humbled Danny enter the living room, in the buff. He looked miserable, despite evidence of some excitement, and the shiny wooden hairbrush he carried spoke volumes of the reason for his distress. Megan turned as he passed her, watching him approach Jennifer, who was now seated on the straight-backed chair. Without a word, he gave the hairbrush to his lovely wife, placing it in her outstretched hand.

"You know you're going to get it, good and proper, don't you?" Jennifer inquired, tapping the brush into her left palm. Danny just nodded, and when she motioned him across her knees, he obeyed meekly, getting into position.

Megan watched as Jenny adjusted his position to suit her, laying her left hand across his back. The brush then lifted and smacked down briskly, producing the sharp characteristic crack of varnished wood on bare skin. Danny's stoicism disappeared as the brush set fire to his already tenderized bottom. Smack after smack, Jennifer spanked her mate's bare hindquarters, covering the whole target with hard swats. Like a school-boy, he was soon yowling and begging her to stop, his legs kicking as the hairbrush found some specially tender spot. Jenny showed him no mercy, and when his right hand quested back in an attempt to protect his burning bottom, she grasped his wrist firmly in her left hand, pulling it up tightly behind his back. Now he was completely unable to interfere, and Jennifer turned it on, snapping the polished wooden brush down hard and fast. He wailed and pleaded, to no avail.

"Owwww! Jenny! Please, I'm sorry! Owwww! Ohhhh, God! Owwww! Stop!"

While Danny squirmed and writhed, howling and begging, Megan watched Jennifer spank, and spank, and spank; leaving her disobedient husband bawling across her knees long before she was through. The pretty redhead was thrilled beyond description by the spectacle, her pulse pounding. She gloried at the thought that this same power could be hers; all she had to do was step up and take it. "I will, too, by God." She promised herself. It would be the beginning of a new chapter in her marriage.

Jennifer had finished her work, allowing the well-spanked Danny to slide off her lap to his knees. Sobbing, he made to rub his poor fanny, but his pretty blonde wife stopped him cold.

"Don't you dare rub, young man," she threatened, shaking the hairbrush at him, "or I'll put you right back over my knee, this minute!"

Taking her hanky, Jenny wiped his face and had him blow his running nose, making him feel even more childish as he knelt by her knee. She then sent him to the corner to consider the next spanking, which was to be delivered by Megan. His heartbroken sniffling formed an appropriate background as Jennifer counseled Megan on the proper use of a hairbrush for spanking.

"You don't need to use a lot of energy," she was saying, displaying her typical arm movements, "that will just tire you out." Megan looked interested as Jenny went on,

"Use brisk arm motions, with plenty of wrist action, snapping the brush down smartly. It stings like blazes, and you can keep it up for a long time; more than enough to make him genuinely sorry."

Handing the hairbrush to the lovely redhead, she advised,

"Pay plenty of attention to the soft and very tender area where the legs join the bottom." She smiled wickedly, "and don't spare the upper thighs. He hates that, and you'll see how effective it is when you spank the same spot good and hard, two or three times in a row."

Megan's eyes glowed as Jennifer continued to give hints and tips about spanking, and then moved on to other forms of discipline for the wayward hubby. She kept looking at poor Danny standing in the corner, his backside a flaming, puffy red. Her insides quivered as she imagined her own disorganized and inattentive husband in the same predicament, hugging the hairbrush to her as if it were the talisman that would transform her marriage.

Jennifer gave Danny a half-hour to cool off and consider his plight. Then, when Megan had taken a seat on the dining room chair, she led him over to the now prepared redhead. It was apparent from her wintry green eyes that she was ready to give him what for, and she commanded him,

"Over my knee, young man."

Danny looked pleadingly at first Jennifer and then Megan, his bottom prickling at the thought of that stinging hairbrush, but there was no reprieve in sight. As Jennifer stood by, hands on her hips, her subdued husband turned across Megan's lovely knees, submitting to her completely.

Megan's first hairbrush spanking turned out to be a virtuoso performance, even impressing Jennifer as she whacked poor Danny's bare bottom into a cherry-red, blistered expanse, graying in spots. His pitiful wails and squirming merely served to spur Megan on, and she had no trouble disabling his free hand as she had seen Jennifer do. What Danny had hoped would be a routine spanking became a Class-A butt-burner, and left him sobbing across her lap.

When Megan finally released him, Jennifer was there with the effects that would constitute the rest of his punishment. It was an activity that would focus his concentration on his bad behavior, as well as remind him constantly of his smarting bottom. As Danny was led away, Megan saw that Jenny had placed a stiff bristle door-mat on one of the high-backed kitchenette stools. She had placed it in the corner, and on it lay a pad of paper and a pencil. Leading her still weeping husband over to it, she took the pad and pencil and ordered him,

"Take your seat, little man." Pointing to the stool with her left hand.

Emitting a dismayed groan, Danny obeyed, presenting his battered bottom to the prickly surface of the doormat. His eyes squeezed shut, tears flowing out from the corners as his weight settled on the mat. A small sob escaped his throat, but he said nothing, just looked at his beautiful blonde wife with the most contrite expression Megan had ever seen. She thrilled at the sight, overwhelmed by Danny's submission.

"Now, young man," Jenny said, handing him the pad and pencil, "I want you to neatly print;

`I will remember to always keep my promises to Jennifer.',

three-hundred times." "That should keep you busy until bedtime, and mind you, I'm going to check for errors and penmanship. If I'm not pleased with your efforts, you'll get spanked again and we'll start all over, do you understand?"

A choked-out "Yes, ma'am." Confirmed Danny's understanding.

One of his tears fell on the paper, and Megan watched as Jennifer once more wiped her chastised and humiliated husband's nose and face with her hanky. She put her arm around his shoulders, kissed him on the cheek and said softly,

"That's my good boy. Next time, you'll remember, won't you?"

Another "Yes, ma'am." Ended the scene, with Danny settling down uncomfortably to write his lines, while Jennifer bade farewell to Megan, who was anxious to get started with her husband as soon as possible.

"It will take him about two hours to finish, and by the time he's done, he'll be willing to do anything to get up off that mat." Jennifer told Megan, winking at her.

"Of course," she added with a wicked smile, "he can get up any time he chooses..., but it will only be to get back over my knee for more of the hairbrush."

Both of them laughed gaily, and Megan gave Jennifer a kiss on the cheek.

"Thanks, Jen. I'm really glad this happened." She said brightly.

"Good luck with Ted." Jennifer remarked, adding, "I'm sure you'll do just fine."

Megan sat in her car outside Jenny's house, thinking for a moment about how best to proceed with her plan. Then, starting the engine, she said aloud to nobody,

"First, I need a good-sized hairbrush......."

Pictures - Old Pictures

Over the years I have loved looking at the old spanking pictures that have been scanned by people that were taken back in the past, many of them scanned into computers because they love these pictures as much as I do. So I have decided to include some in the blog.


The reason I love these pictures so much is the first time I came across spanking was through pictures like this in a old magazine that I found discarded by some fetishist in some woods I use to walk in and they fascinated me. It is probably where my interesting in spanking came from in the first place. Any way I hope you enjoy this little selection.

Celebrity Spanking

Looking around the internet I have noticed that there is a lot of spanking related stories filling the press. A few of them have been generated from general interest in submission and dominance that has come about from the publication of "A Fifty Shades of Grey". It is this novel that has started to inspire the celebrity set.


It would seem their Stars like Sarah Silverman and Heather Mills who have started talking about their fondness for a nice smack, and reportedly Mills has even posted pics of her posing for a nice spanking. And lets not forget,  Rihanna who, if the lyrics of her songs are to believed.  is into it too. In fact spanking is the probably the tamest thing Rihanna is into! She doesn’t hide her penchant for anything on the kinky side, and all accepted by the public in general. Then there is Geri Halliwell who tweeted "In studio with@andyabsolute & @paulabsolute writing a song about spanking...". It seems like thea lot of celebrities are jumping on the "A Fifty Shades of Grey" roller coaster.

Of course spanking is nothing new for the celebrity world you just have to look at the picture of Serge Gainsbourg and Jane Birkin above and see that for yourselves, even if they weren't into spanking they were prepared to use it as a vehicle. In fact it been going on for a long while. So many famous names have been implicated with the practice, some openly and others in the scene that have wanted to remain anonymous. The ones whose names have appear on websites include people like the late Cary Grant whose third wife divorced him citing that he used to put her across his knee and spank her on her bare bottom. If you care to look you will find others equally as famous as Cary Grant into spanking in some way.

Of course, people keep these things to them seleves, not everyone wants to publish a blog about what they do, but in the post "A Fifty Shades of Grey" society we are more open than ever to the practice of spanking in the bedroom and a lot of celebrities are making the most of it. I think in the coming year we are going to hear of a lot more celebrities that have this sort of fun in the bedroom.

Personally I think it is a good thing. Any open discussion about adult spanking is good and the more people that open up the better, and if it takes the celebrity set to do it then that is fine with me. Spanking might be a little painful but it is great fun too. Trust me on that, if you don't know that already.

Erotic Photography

The power of a photograph is amazing and has been since the invention of the camera, and this especially the case the field of erotic photography. You just have to look at the picture below and it is just full or eroticism. It is the way the picture is composed, the lighting the models everything about it is perfect. You are just drawn into the photograph and the mood that it sets.


It takes skill to produce a picture like this, as opposed to a highly explicit picture which has no real atmosphere about it, other than capturing an act. Sometimes it better to show less than more and this is the case in the picture above. It is the fact that the face is hidden as well as the woman's genitals that adds interest to the picture. They are simply not needed. If anything the fact they are missing makes it even more erotic by allowing the viewer to use their imagination to fill in the gaps. 

It is pictures like this I love, it doesn't have to be explicit to be a turn on for me. A picture like this will do it for me just as well, and I know Ms.Kinky prefers pictures like this. The same thing can go for films too. It is what you can't just see, or sometimes left to the imagination, that works so well. Take the masturbation videos on www.ifeelmyself.com that were originally, in most cases, just face shots, they can be very erotic. then there is other videos I have seen that just show the face of a woman making love, they work just as well. It's knowing what is going on without seeing it that works so well.

Video - More Mutural Masturbation

I was surprised to find when looking at the site statistics for the site that one of the pages in the top ten was the one about mutual masturbation. So for all the fans of this sexual occupation, here is a video, and yes I know I said that I wouldn't be posting many videos.


I hope you find the act of mutual masturbation as fulfilling as Ms.Kinky and myself and enjoy this little clip. Although the man in the video doesn't  get to cum I'm sure he will as the session goes on. I hope you all have a great weekend.

Lovely View

There I was about to spank Ms.Kinky and I was once again mesmerized by the shape of her bottom and of the female form in general. I really can't get enough of it. I could look and play with her naked form for hours on end. I want to know every part of her body.


It must be the one desire to that never leaves you to be close to a naked woman, to run your hands over her skin, maybe spank her bottom and the finally make love to her before falling a sleep in her arms. It one of those things that never seems to go away with the passing years. It a desire that is is strong now as it has always been.

Story - Megan's Law

The story is a bit early this week, due to the fact things are very busy for me. Normally I know where I get the stories from but this one source is a mystery to me other than it probably came from the newsgroup alt.sex.spanking. It was on the hard disk of an old computer and I thought I would share it. 

Megan's Law

Ted was out when Megan arrived home, anxious to begin her new program of discipline.

"So much the better..," she thought to herself, "it will give me some  time to get organized. He's probably stopped off at the bar with his buddies, again."

"Well, Teddy my dear," she said aloud, "that's one activity I'm going to put a stop to, because you won't be able to afford it on the allowance I'll give you."

 

Smiling, she busied herself by making some notes about the new house rules for her disorganized and undisciplined husband. He might stay disorganized, although he would pay for it with a sore bottom, but he would certainly no longer be undisciplined. Megan and the brand-spanking new hairbrush she had bought would see to that.

Taking the brush out of  her shopping bag, she smacked it experimentally into her palm, wincing at the sting. It was every inch the equal of her friend Jennifer's, the one she had just that afternoon used on Jenny's chagrined and humiliated husband. Soon enough, she thought, her own Teddy would feel its bite, soon enough.

Putting pen to paper, she outlined all the things about her husband that annoyed and inconvenienced her; the list was long, she noted wryly. That, too, would be corrected, and in short order. A look of stern determination came over her lovely face as she regarded the finished list. There might be more items to add, later on, but this would do for a start. Smiling wickedly, she took her shopping bags into the bedroom to unpack the remainder of her special items; each one designed to help her take control of Teddy and their marriage.

"Hi, hon! I'm home!" she heard Ted shout as he came in the kitchen door.

She listened, smiling to herself as she heard him open the refrigerator door and then close it.

"Hey, where's the beer?" he asked, annoyed, as he came in to the living room and stopped dead in his tracks.

Megan sat on the couch, looking like she was chiseled from stone. A white lace-necked blouse with long sleeves sat over a dark blue pleated mini-skirt, complimented by stockings and navy blue three-inch pumps. Her gorgeous hair had been styled short, framing her face with its emerald eyes perfectly. Deep red lipstick adorned her mouth, the color perfectly matched by her well-manicured nails. Those nails were presently drumming on her arms, as she sat regarding her surprised husband with a controlled, but smoldering stare. She saw his eyes go immediately to the expanse of firm thigh revealed by her mini-skirt, and knew she had him cold.

"Down the drain." She replied, matter of factly, then asked sternly,

"Where have you been?"

Put on the defensive, he swallowed nervously and answered,

"At Mike's, having a beer."

Megan picked up on his nervousness. Jennifer had been right. If she took an authoritative stance with Ted, she could control him. Making him wait for her reply, she held him with her eyes, smiling inside as she saw him becoming more and more fearful. He had never seen her this way, and it unhinged him.

"It's late." She stated, then demanded "Why didn't you call?"

"Uh, I guess I just forgot about the time. Sorry." He replied lamely, looking away from her glacial stare, ashamed of his behavior.

"Come over here." Megan ordered him, still not moving.

She almost burst out laughing at his predictable response. Jennifer had told her how it would be, and she was one-hundred percent right. Ted gulped nervously and approached his suddenly assertive wife as if she were an alien being. "Like a naughty little boy", she thought, watching him sidle over, avoiding her gaze. When he was standing next to her right knee, she told him,

"There are going to be some changes, Teddy. You won't like most of them, but you're going to live with them and do just exactly what you are told; do you understand?"

He was beginning to tremble, and then smiled bravely but half-heartedly, trying to de-fuse the situation.

"Aw, come on, hon. I said I was sorry, what's the big deal?" he joked.

Standing, Megan laid her right hand across the left cheek of her unsuspecting mate, the handprint showing clearly. As he recoiled in shock and fear, she noticed an absence of anger, as if he realized he deserved what he got and her right to give it to him. Having gotten his full attention, Megan explained in a strict and forbidding tone,

"The big deal is that I'm sick and tired of you running around here acting like a spoiled teen-ager, and expecting me to clean up after you. From now on, you're going to behave properly, and when you act like a child, you'll be treated like one."

Letting that sink in, she placed both hands on her hips, watching his reaction. He was genuinely intimidated, both by her physical presence and her authoritative manner. While he rubbed his left cheek, she waited for him to say something, but he was silent, subdued.

"For instance," Megan went on, her eyes freezing him solid, "you acted like an inconsiderate little boy tonight, and so that you fully understand how displeased I am with you, I'm going to give you a good
spanking."

If the slap in the face surprised Ted, her announcement flabbergasted him. His eyebrows nearly jumped off his face. Involuntarily, he smiled, a wide grin that was instantly suppressed as Megan hissed,

"Wipe that smile off your face, or I'll slap it off."

Sitting down, the pretty brunette grabbed her husband by the belt, quickly undoing it and yanking down his pants. Intimidated, but still clinging to his male ego, Ted gave her token resistance, grabbing for his trousers. Megan slapped his hands away sharply, then grabbed the front of his shirt with her left hand, pulling him closer to her. As he gaped in shock, she whapped his face again, twice.

"I've had just about enough of your juvenile behavior!" she said ominously, "Now get over my knee for the sound spanking you have coming to you!"

Without waiting for his response, she pulled the dumfounded man across her lap, his hands going to the floor as his weight settled across her knees. Megan grasped the waistband of his shorts and yanked them down, noticing that Ted had stopped struggling, completely bewildered and resigned to his fate. If the truth were known, he would have admitted that it excited him tremendously. Megan had taken on a completely new personality, one that was strong and full of character, and it was in full control.

With his bottom bared, Megan laid her hand across one cheek with a hard slap, drawing a grunt from him. She gloried in his twitching and squirming as her palm slapped down over and over again, reddening the target. As she had seen Jennifer do, she scolded him as she spanked, punctuating her remarks with crisp slaps.

"So you want to behave like a little boy, do you?" she asked, rhetorically, "Well, how do you like getting what naughty little boys deserve?"

He began to protest as the smarting increased, but Megan kept right on walloping his bare behind, determined to show her command. After many long minutes of spanking, she let him up at last, hauling him off of her lap with a firm grip on his left ear. The well-spanked Ted, now thoroughly convinced of Megan's seriousness, blinked at the still-frosty face of his beautiful and beloved wife, trying to comprehend what had just happened to him. Megan nearly laughed out loud at how easily she had intimidated and controlled him. He stood next to her, his face red with shame, rubbing his bottom like a paddled teenager.

"Stop rubbing your naughty bottom;" She ordered, standing to face him, "I want you to remember every stinging slap I gave you while you stand in the corner and think about what's coming."

Once again he looked incredulous as Megan announced his banishment to the living room corner. With a shocked expression, he asked quietly,

"You're serious, aren't you?"

Hands on her hips, Megan put her face only inches away from his, asking,

"What does your naughty bottom tell you?"

Blushing furiously, he looked down at the trousers around his ankles, remembering how he had just been soundly spanked, and apparently been unable to do anything about it. Smiling with understanding, Megan ordered him sternly,

"Go into my bedroom and bring me what's lying on the bed."

As he reached down to pull up his pants, she stopped him, ordering,

"Leave those where they are, young man. You won't be needing them for the remainder of the evening."

The look on his face reminded her of a Basset hound, totally woebegone as he shuffled off obediently to the bedroom. Megan wished she could have seen his face when he discovered the large, oval-backed wooden hairbrush lying on her bed. Its purpose was unmistakable; even Ted must have realized what it was to be used for, and felt a twinge of fear.

A shuffling noise announced her hubby's return, and as she sat reviewing her notes from that afternoon, she glanced casually up at him. Pointing toward the empty corner with one red-tipped finger, she told him,

"Put your nose in that corner, Teddy, and think about this: in one-half hour, you're going to get back over my knee for a long, hard spanking with that hairbrush you're holding; right on your naughty bare bottom."

She saw that he was about to protest, and stood to confront him. As his mouth started to open, she raised her right hand and shook her finger slowly back and forth, saying,

"No, no, my Teddy boy. Don't say a word, unless you want it to go much harder with you."

His mouth closed like a swinging door, and she finished,

"You deserve to have your bare bottom spanked until you can't sit down, and that's exactly what I intend to do. You know you need it, and you know that I'm the one to give it to you, so just do as you're told."

As the subdued Ted obeyed her, his face crimson, Megan stood with her hands on her hips, watching him take his place in the corner. His buns were a remarkable shade of red for only having been hand-spanked, she thought; the hairbrush would really set them aflame. She used the time to sit down and finish reviewing her notes: there were a lot of items to cover, and she wanted to make sure he understood his situation fully.

By the end of Teddy's assigned corner time, Megan had placed a kitchen chair in the living room, comfortably situated so she could get her wayward spouse over her knee. Taking her seat, she called to him,

"All right, Teddy. Come get over my knee. It's time you got your first real spanking."

He came, shame-faced and slow, handing Megan her hairbrush as she held out her hand for it. With his trousers and underwear still tangled about his ankles, he presented a pitiful sight, making her want to smile.

"Please, Megan, honey...," he whined, looking more uncomfortable than she had ever seen him, "this isn't necessary. Please, I'll try to be better from now on."

"Yes, my love, you will try," Megan said grimly, "and you will do better." Brandishing the polished wooden brush, she affirmed, "This hairbrush and I will see to that. Now do as I told you, and turn over my
knee."

With a look of extreme discomfort, he finally obeyed, placing himself across her lap. Megan settled his weight in place, shifting her legs to find the right balance. Then, laying her left arm across his back, she raised the brush and smacked his bare bottom with a sharp swat.

"Owww!" he yelped, "That hurts!"

Another spank landed, and another, the oval back of the hairbrush leaving fiery red marks where it struck. Teddy yelped and gasped as Megan continued to spank, topping every now and then to scold him.

"You bet it hurts, little man, and from the way you behave you'd better get used to it!" she warned him.

It didn't take her long to bring him to tears, his hand reaching back in an attempt to protect his smarting cheeks from the relentless hairbrush. Megan easily foiled that scheme, pulling his right wrist up tightly behind his back as she had learned from Jennifer, and then continuing to spank un-interrupted. She really enjoyed the way his buns clenched and bucked as she whacked them, and Jennifer was right: the upper thighs were a prime target, producing a sharp cracking sound and strident yells from her helpless hubby. Despite his pleas and crying, she persevered with the spanking until his entire backside was a flaming scarlet and he was sobbing across her lap. Releasing him, she let him slide gently off her lap to his knees, looking with maternal compassion at the runny eyes and nose of her overgrown little boy. Reaching for a box of tissues, she gently wiped his face, which was regarding her with a new respect and devotion. Until that moment, when she had so diligently punished his errant behavior, he had no idea she was such a strong-willed woman. The change in his attitude was evident in his face, she thought, pleased with herself. She smiled inwardly as she watched him start to rub his fiery bottom and then stop, looking up at her as if expecting a reprimand.

"You're learning, Teddy, and that's good, but you've got a long way to go." Megan told him, with a solemn look. Crossing her lovely legs, she leaned forward, the hairbrush dangling from her right hand, which rested on her knee.

"I'm going to lay out some rules, and I'll expect you to live by them. If you don't, you'll be getting a lot more of this hairbrush right where it will do the most good." she prophesied, asking him, "Are you
following me?"

Megan saw he was about to start babbling again, so she held up the hairbrush for effect and warned him,

"All I want to hear from you right now is a polite `Yes, ma'am.", or I'll put this back to work for another couple of minutes; is that clear?"

"Yes, ma'am" the answer came timidly, Ted looking down at the floor, avoiding her eyes.

"Look at me, Teddy." She ordered, lifting his chin with her left hand until their eyes met.

"From now on," she said evenly, "I will expect you to be obedient, respectful, attentive, conscientious, and accommodating."

Waiting for the words to sink in, she continued slowly,

"If you don't behave, you'll be promptly and suitably punished;" seeing his eyes go to the hairbrush, she confirmed by going on, "yes, with spanking and many other little methods that will be equally humbling, I promise you."

She was enjoying her newly discovered power, wishing she had known enough to employ it much earlier in their marriage. Her well-punished husband still looked miserable, but in his face she saw an admiration and respect she had never gotten from him before. Continuing, she stated firmly,

"I will employ regular discipline to help you behave; a session or two each week across my knees with this hairbrush stinging your bare bottom should provide the required incentive, knowing that more of the same
awaits poor behavior or attitude."

Megan stood, motioning him to stand, as well. Rising slowly, Ted stood there awkwardly before her, his pants and shorts still around his feet.

"May I say something?" he said softly, risking her wrath.

Her features darkened, but she nodded, saying, "Just this once."

"I - I just want to say that I'm sorry if I've been so much trouble, Meg; and I love you so much, I'll do whatever you say...."

His voice trailed off as he looked down at her feet, embarrassed by his own revelation. Megan was genuinely touched, and her maternal instinct came into play. She hugged her chastened spouse in a motherly embrace, her heart gladdened by the way things were going. Jennifer predicted that she would do well, and it was turning out that way, so far.

Stepping back from him, she said gently,

"Your punishment for tonight isn't quite over."

Megan saw his eyes grow moist as he regarded the hairbrush she was holding.

"Yes," she confirmed, "you have another spanking coming, and it's going to be a good one, so you'll be sure to remember."

He looked like he was going to beg off, but closed his lips as she cocked her head to one side, in warning.

"In your top dresser drawer," she announced, "you'll find a pair of red rubber panties. Go put them on."

"Right now." She added meaningfully, as he hesitated, his eyes wide with shock. "Unless you want some additional motivation."

Her words were accompanied by a flourish of the hairbrush, and it galvanized him into action. A minute or two later, he emerged from the bedroom wearing a pair of flaming heart red latex panties, which fit fairly well. Megan smiled as she noticed that he was already showing some discomfort, the rubber holding in the heat which had been so amply generated by her spanking. Jennifer had said the panties made the bottom sweat, prolonging the after-effects of the spanking. His bottom would itch and burn abominably for the next hour, at which time she would have him get back over her knee for a follow-up spanking. When the panties came down, his bare bottom would be warmed-up and moist, perfectly prepared for the kiss of varnished wood, which would sting like blazes. Motioning him to the corner, she watched him take his place, and began reading her new house rules, prompting a "Yes, ma'am." for each point she covered.

"You will have dinner ready each night at six-fifteen; no frozen meals allowed. I'll create a food budget and add it in to your allowance."

Clarifying her statement, she confirmed, "Yes, I said allowance. Your paycheck will be deposited directly into the bank."

"You will keep the bathroom and kitchen spotless; clean tile, sparkling porcelain, and gleaming chrome; no dishes left in the sink or drain."

"You will avoid letting the clothing hamper get full; washing, drying, ironing and folding our clothes, and putting them neatly away, before I find it necessary to remind you."

"You will keep the house vacuumed and dusted, furniture polished, tile floors washed and waxed, and windows cleaned. I expect this to be done at least on a bi-weekly basis, or more frequently as I require."

"You will see that the bed linen is changed and rotated twice weekly, with the old linen being washed, ironed, folded and stacked neatly in the linen closet."

"You will make certain that the bedroom is tidied and organized at all times, and all waste-paper baskets are emptied regularly."

The list went on, prompting a low groan now and then from the embarrassed and uncomfortable Ted, his face now just about matching the crimson of his panties.

"Did I mention cheerfulness?" Megan asked pointedly. Continuing, she stated,

"I will expect and require you to do all the above things, and every other task I tell you to perform with a cheerful enthusiasm. I refuse to have you moping around with a hang-dog expression. If you look unhappy, I'll just have to give you something to be unhappy about, am I clear?"

A muted and subdued "Yes, ma'am." came from the corner. Ted's hour was just about up, so Megan went over to him and took him by the arm, leading him slowly back to what would be known as the "spanking chair". With her arm around him, she explained softly and gently,

"This is for your own good, Teddy. Actually, it will be good for both of us. I guarantee that you'll be happier after you learn how to behave yourself and obey me."

Taking her seat, Megan stripped Ted's rubber panties down to his knees and ordered him across her lap.

"Turn over my knee, young man," she said, patting her right thigh with the hairbrush, "and while I'm stinging your naughty bare bottom good and hard, think about what I expect of you."

For the next few minutes, all that could be heard in the room was Ted's crying and begging, accompanied by the crisp sound of that heavy wooden hairbrush on bare skin. The dampness caused by Ted's rubber panties made the contact of each spank more effective, making him howl, squirm and kick as Megan spanked him long and hard. She watched his bottom get redder and redder with each swat, his right hand disabled by her left. No scolding was necessary; she had said all that needed to be said, and what was left was for her to complete his punishment by stinging his naughty bottom as much as possible, to drive her point home.

It was a thoroughly subdued male that got up from Megan's lap when she finally released him; sent off to the bathroom to tidy up and get ready for bed. Megan made herself a cup of tea, holding the warmed cup in her hands and reveling in her new-found role as head of the household.

Teddy wouldn't be happy at first, but he'd come to love living under Megan's Law.

Pony Girl Fetish

One fetish I have admired in pictures is the pony girl fetish. The women always look so good dressed up and the pony tails look wonderful, stuck in their lovely bottoms. For some reason I have never got to trying it out, but after seeing this lovely picture it is a must. I can just see Ms Kinky with a tail like that.

 
It will have to wait for a while, as we are all spent out after Christmas, like so many people seem to be that we know this year.  I can see the possibilities in pony play for using the crop in a playful way, as well as a painful way, and then there is what can be done when you remove that lovely tail. It really is something we need try before the year is out, in the mean time I will have to carry on looking for some nice pictures for a picture post on the subject. If anyone has tried it it would be nice to know what you think.

Blog - Our Bottoms Burn

This is a post I have been meaning to get round to writing for a time. Like many of you I enjoy reading blogs and one of the blogs I read and whose posts I comment on is Our Bottoms Burn. The only reason not for posting about it before was just I to much stuff in my head and too little time to do write it.

(Picture Credit - Our Bottoms Burn)

Our Bottoms Burn is a wonderful blog that is now entering it sixth year. It certainly meets it's aim to celebrate the erotic side of spanking as long practiced by one married couple. They don't spank for punishment or discipline or any reason other than to supercharge sex. which to me seems a good enough reason as any. I certainly know what they mean when they say "getting our bottoms toasted sexually arouses us" the same thing happens here too. It is a mixture of fun and of thoughtful posts like this one published yesterday. What I like about it, is it an easy read and informative. So if you haven't read it do check it out, there is a like in this post and another on the right hand side of the page in the blog list.

I have over the weeks since I started the blog featured a few sites and I would like to feature more in the coming months. if you think there is a site worthy of note just leave a comment and I will give it a visit and may be give it a post. if you have been reading the blog for a while you will know what I am into at the moment. It would be great to make this sort of post a regular feature in the blog.

Pictures - Faces of Sex

One thing that I have always loved seeing, normally with the aid of a mirror is a woman's face as I make love to her. I just find it such a turn on. So I thought I would include a post of some pictures I found in the hope that you might think the same as me.


Just so you know which my favorite, it is picture number 2. I don't know why it just does it for me. It is the expression on the girls face as her lover drills deep inside her. There nothing quite like the face of a woman when she is enjoying something hard in her wet pussy.

Story - A Shoplifter Caned

Another of my favorite writers from way back is Mike from London and the story spot features one of his stories todat.  He mainly writes school scene spanking stories that fit in with the role play post of a few days ago, however he write the occasional adult based story to. If you would like to read some of his other stories they can be found a Laura Spanking Corner by following this link. 

Shoplifter Caned 

I own a small bookshop in Ilford and, as I am generally serving alone in the shop, there is quite a problem with shoplifting. To prevent this I have a system of mirrors so that I can see what is going on in the shop while I am in the backroom. 

About a fortnight ago a young lady about twenty years old came into the shop and started looking at the books. I asked her if she was looking for anything in particular but she said she was just browsing. As she was the only customer and I had to go through some orders I left her looking at the books and went through into the back. After a minute or two I glanced up and was surprised to see her slipping a hardback book into her bag. I came out and asked her if she had found anything she wanted, but she brazenly said she hadn't and started to walk out.

I stepped into her way and grabbed hold of her bag. I said 'Oh no you don't! You haven't paid for that book in there!' 

I opened the bag and took out the book. At first she said that she had brought it with her, but when it was opened it still had my shop's marker inside it. I told her that I was going to telephone the police as I always prosecuted shoplifters.

I was surprised at the response. I had expected the 'couldn't care less' attitude I had come across on most similar occasions but instead she was very distressed and obviously near tears (though I suppose she may have put this on to gain my sympathy).

I told her that what she had done was against the law and that she was a criminal and that the law must take its course. She begged me not to phone the police; she was training to be a solicitor and her parents had spent hundreds of pounds on her to get a degree and pass the Law Society Examinations. If I reported her it would all be wasted as she would not be allowed to qualify as a solicitor if she had just been convicted of shoplifting.

I said that was her fault and she should have thought of that first, but she kept on imploring me. She said that she knew that she had done wrong but that her whole life and future career would be ruined if she had to go to court, and that she would not be able to face her parents.

It was only then that I thought of the obvious. Several years ago when my son, Richard, had been a mischievous schoolboy I had occasionally used a few quick whacks from a regulation school cane on him when he was exceptionally naughty. I was almost sure it was still upstairs. Looking at this girl admitting she had done wrong and begging me not to go to the police reminded me irresistibly of Richard aged twelve begging me not to give him his first ever caning.

I said to the girl, 'Well, you admit that you attempted to steal the book which was a crime, so you must be punished. I will only agree not to go to the police if you agree to take your punishment from me.'

She asked hesitantly what I meant, but I think she guessed by then. I told her that I thought I still had a school punishment cane upstairs and that the choice was hers; so far as I was concerned I would phone the police that minute. She asked what her punishment would be if she agreed.

I said that there were two elements to a caning - pain and humiliation. If anyone deserved a sound caning she did and I would give her nine strokes on her clothed bottom and a final tenth stroke on her bared backside. I knew that this would add greatly to the punishment. Richard had always hated taking his trousers down and presenting his already wealed bottom to receive yet another stroke - and it would obviously be very much more humiliating for a twenty year old girl to have to show her naked caned bottom to a strange man.

When I explained my proposals to the girl she didn't speak for a while and then she started to cry. She said she couldn't make up her mind. She didn't want me to go to the police, but she couldn't stand the idea of taking her clothes off in front of a stranger. I said that my only interest was that she got the punishment that she deserved one way or another. I suggested that she go off and walk around a bit to make her mind up and come back at six o'clock in the evening. I would keep her handbag as a safeguard and I told her that if she wasn't back by then I would telephone the police.

I took a good look at her. She was an very attractive young lady, about twenty as I said, around 5'4" tall and slimly built. She had long, light blonde hair and was wearing a blue cotton top with the words from a Coca-Cola advert written across it. It was quite tight and showed off her breasts very well - she didn't seem to be wearing a bra. She also had on a figure-hugging pair of white trousers and a pair of chunky sandals. I could see that she wasn't wearing pantyhose as her toes were free.

The material in her trousers seemed quite thin and I was quite satisfied that she would really feel the effects of a caning if she decided that way. I told her not to change her clothes in any way or put on pantyhose or another pair of panties if she decided to be punished by me. If she did she would get the entire punishment on the bare.

After she left I checked in the handbag to get some information in the intervals between serving customers. I soon saw that she had been telling the truth about training to be a solicitor and she had an orange card saying Law Society Student's Card. I saw that her name was Michaela Peterson and also noted her address. The shop closed at 5.30 and I went upstairs to find the cane. It didn't take me long and I practised a few experimental whacks and left the cane lying on my bed.

I had suggested 6.00 as both shops next to me would be closed by then and no-one lived above them. Should Michaela elect for a caning there would be nobody to hear if she yelled out during the punishment.

Just before 6.00 the bell rang and I opened the door. Michaela was there with a determined look on her face. She said that she had decided that it would have to be the caning and that she wanted to get it over with as soon as possible. I asked her if she wanted to go to the toilet but she said no. So I led her to my bedroom and then left her for a few minutes, telling her to wait. I did this as I knew that waiting would make the punishment worse. When I came back Michaela was holding the cane, obviously trying to imagine what its effect on her bottom would be. At last it was time for me to show her.

I told her to stand by the bed, about two feet away, and bend down, placing her hands on the bed. The tight white trousers stretched themselves over Michaela's lower curves, displaying her bottom cheeks to perfection. I could see the shape of her panties through the thin material. The broad feminine bottom was a real contrast to young Richard's schoolboy backside in his dark grey trousers! I swung the cane lightly on to her bottom and away again to check that I had enough room for a free swing. Then I said 'Right. This is your last chance - shall I phone the police?'

She said in a choked voice, obviously between gritted teeth: 'No!' So I said that as the idea was that no-one should know what she had done, or that she'd been caned it was up to her not to shout out as otherwise people might come in to ask what was going on. I told her I would give her an extra stroke for each time she cried out loudly. Actually, of course, there was no chance of anyone hearing but Michaela couldn't know that and it would not be a very satisfactory punishment if she yelled and shrieked and struggled at every stroke - after all she had, literally, asked for it.

I kept her waiting for the first stroke and swished the cane in the air a few times so as to take her by surprise, watching that pert bottom flinch expectantly each time. Then I lifted the cane as high as possible and brought it down with all the strength of my right arm, putting all my weight - 12 stone 4 pounds - behind it. It landed exactly half way up the target area and there was a very satisfactory Whack!

Michaela gave a convulsive leap upwards and her hands went to her bottom. She could not restrain a high-pitched note of pain, but cut it off short. I admired her courage as she immediately bent down again ready for the next stroke. I counted 'One!'.

Once again I took my time over the next stroke, relishing the sight of Michaela's delectable rear. Then I whipped the cane down again, landing it slightly lower. It was as hard as the first one but she took it well, apart from some involuntary squirmings. I said 'Two!' and slashed down the next stroke almost simultaneously. It had the desired effect and took her by surprise; she yelled out blue murder. So I didn't count that one and gave her another in as near as possible the same place.

She jumped and I heard the gasp of her sharp intake of breath, but she restrained her yell. So the punishment was one third over so far as the over-trousers caning was concerned. I took stock of the situation. Michaela had begun to cry and she was breathing heavily, her breasts wobbling through her teeshirt, she was still in position but couldn't help moving all the time. Her long fair hair was all over the place and right over her eyes.

I released stroke four which landed just on the lower curves of her buttocks - again her hands went to her trousers and away. The next stroke landed in the same place and Michaela yelled loudly again. So I didn't count that one and whacked another one in, just as hard, in the same place.

Stroke six was an experiment. I aimed it just to the left buttock so that the tip of the cane dug in hard halfway across her trousers. She was by now sobbing continuously, but it did not evoke a yell. The remaining three strokes I aimed low, below the pantie-line. I hit as hard as I could, but although she certainly felt them, as she showed by jerking violently each time the cane collided with her drum- tight trousers, she didn't yell out. I was getting tired.

After the ninth stroke (actually, of course, the eleventh!) had reverberated round the room I stood there watching Michaela's trousered bottom and listening to her whimperings. Although I had counted nine she still remained in position.

I told her to get up and she did - slowly and unsteadily. She put her hands to her trousers, stretching out her long, delicate fingers to cover the whole devastated area and tenderly caress it. When she seemed in command of herself I told her to pull down her trousers.

At first she started to protest and refused, but when I insisted and told her it had been her choice she started to undo them. All resistance was gone. With her back to me she very carefully and slowly began to draw her trousers down. I didn't blame her for being slow about it. It clearly hurt like hell sliding those trousers over her swollen and wealed buttocks. She'd been wearing white panties which were almost transparent and the marks showed clearly through them as her trousers fell to her sandals.

Then I told her to drop the panties too and after a while she did. This was an even more careful operation and she was constantly squealing to herself. When they reached her ankles I told her to bend down again and she did so hesitantly, trying to keep her shaky legs as close together as she could.

I stood for almost a minute looking at the pattern of weals on her arse and then suddenly let loose with the hardest stroke I could muster, aiming it diagonally so as to cross the biggest, most raised weals. This time her yell was frighteningly loud even though I knew no-one could hear. So I said 'That's another one then!' and waited for her to position herself again. when she did so I just tapped her bottom lightly with the cane and said 'Ten!'. She didn't deserve any more, she'd been really brave.

I told her she could stand up now and as she did so I saw some blood seep out from that last punishing stroke - no wonder she'd screamed. I told Michaela to get dressed and said that it might be an idea for her to put her trousers back on without the panties, and this is what she did. I also suggested that she washed her face and tidied her hair and then come downstairs, where I would be waiting.

When she finally reappeared I said that she had taken her punishment well and that so far as I was concerned it was all forgotten. I offered her a cup of tea and suggested she stayed indoors for a while till the worst of the pain went and only then went back to her flat. Otherwise her flat-mates would probably guess more or less what had happened. Surprisingly enough she accepted and I quite enjoyed sitting down to my tea watching her drinking hers, standing up and still crying quietly.

Afterwards we went into the sitting room and I switched on the telly. We watched until after News at Ten and by then she had stopped crying and dried her tears. During the news she made an attempt to sit down. Very carefully she lowered herself onto a chair. But as soon as her trousers made contact with the seat she jumped up again with a stifled 'Owww!'. She hopped from one foot to the other and then turned to me and said with a tight smile 'I don't really feel like sitting down at the moment. I'd rather stand!'

After the news Michaela made up her face and managed to control her expression so that no-one would guess what she had been through. She still walked stiffly, though, and could not help an occasional grimace of pain. She told me that if her flat-mates noticed anything she would tell them that she had banged her leg and bruised it badly. I handed her back her handbag and she put her panties in it. Finally, just before 11.00, she left, and I wished her luck in her profession.

This was the last I saw of Michaela until yesterday when she walked back into my shop again. This time she was wearing a printed summer frock. There were other customers, but when they had been served and had gone she walked over to the counter. I was rather surprised but pleased to see her. I asked her how she was.

She knew what I meant and said that she was still sore and bruised though she rubbed soothing cream in every night. She told me that it still hurt to sit down and that she had had to take two days off work. She said, though, that she knew that she'd deserved it and that she'd come back to say that she was very sorry and would not ever do anything like it again.

I told her that she was a brave girl but that she had probably needed a good spanking. She replied, 'Well, if so, I certainly got one!' and ruefully rubbed her bottom. She told me that she had not worn trousers or jeans all that fortnight as they rubbed so painfully but had worn loose skirts and dresses all the while.

In the end she got out her purse and gave me £4.95. She finally bought the book it had all been about! And then Michaela went out again and I watched her bottom wiggle through her frock and thought about the marks that I alone knew were on it.

So far no-one else has tried to shoplift but I think now that I'll offer anyone I catch the same choice. The cane has probably been a more effective punishment for Michaela than a fine would have been, and she didn't deserve to have her whole career ruined.