Friday, 20 July 2018

A Smile for Today

Have a fun weekend.


Wednesday, 18 July 2018

In with he New - A Bonnie Edition

Bonnie was busy while I was  away. Enjoy.

MaMa Blue Twitter
Professional maternal disciplinarian lives in the beautiful Midwest. Her home is called OTK Manor, a place where diversity is celebrated.

Wayward Angels
F/F spanking romance books by your favourite authors.

54-year old disciplinarian.

Beth Twitter
Spanko, masochist, perv, feminist, amateur baker, wannabe shutterbug, blogger, and writer of kinky smut.

Bend over, stick it out, and hold on tight. 

Alice in Dallas Twitter 
Disciplinarian and fetish model.

Corrected and Cared for
A 40ish woman is sassy to the core, but loves nothing more than the thought of someone offering her firm but loving discipline. 

Little Miss Texas Twitter
Just a sassy little girl who always seems to need a spanking.

Piper Ren 
Tweets from a genuine spanko.

Northern Spanking
Latest updates and favourite spanking/CP images from the huge Northern Spanking archive. 

Stella Moore
Author of erotic spanking romance with

Artistic Discipline
Fetish Art.

Alex in Spankingland Instragram
Alex is a born spanko, fetish model, website producer, pro switch, ABDL/DDLG, kink educator, smut writer, polyam, and generally up to no good. 

Red Bottom Club
Original spanking artwork from France.

Thanks Bonnie.


Monday, 16 July 2018

Plain-speak 'Trumps'

According to my husband the plain talk we in Europe have been hearing over the past week from a certain US visitor is better than the weasel words of conventional politicians and diplomats. I have to stress that this is the opinion of my nearest and dearest, who is often scant with words himself, and does not reflect any opinion he may have about the actual meaning of the words. Or whether they're necessarily accurate:)

Between ourselves and in our small circle of family and friends I usually take a negative position whenever Mr T crops up in conversation. I don't like him or what I've read or heard about his attitude on loads of issues, but I have to admit to agreeing with P on his point about hearing things straight and calling a spade a spade. Love him or loathe him he seems to make things happen and you can't say that about many politicians (especially ours) and jobsworths who are more interested in keeping their jobs and lifestyles intact.

So why did this conversation come about, well it was because I made a comment on a photo I saw in a newspaper of Donald 'taking exercise' as he called it, which seemed to involve him getting out of a golf buggy, thrashing some Scottish heather then getting back into the buggy and driving off. I was joking about it I suppose making fun of him, and thought P might join in and say something about his girth but he didn't. Instead he told me off and made his point about straight talk and getting things done.

"Ooh sorry," I said, "didn't mean to be rude about one of your heroes."(he's not one of his heroes) And I stuck my tongue out.

"He's not a hero, I'm not suggesting he is, just saying he gets a bad rap from an establishment and media that doesn't like mold breakers."

I started to 'what about the way he views women and race and immig...' but my husband put his hand up. Like when a policeman does it in traffic, it means stop.

"I'm not debating it, don't want to go into all that crap, others have been doing it the world over, we don't need to. I was just making a simple point."

"Yes but..." I started.

"There's no yes but, the subject's closed, finito, out of bounds. No more, or you'll be spanked. I've got other things to do." Then off he went, presumably to do his other things, one of which I knew was re-coating some of the garden furniture before the sun got too high.

Now that was the sort of plain speak I definitely like to hear, I felt like saying well hold on a minute, what about....(basically anything I could think of about Trump, bad of course)....but I didn't. I thought let him get the garden furniture done, I could always revert to Mr T later.

Have a good week.


Friday, 13 July 2018

Dubious story but very good advice

So I have a little story for you (not mine) which I will accredit at the end, it's on the website. It's set in an English boarding school, I don't know how true to life it would be but the part about the naked 20-year-old assistant matron seemed a bit imaginative. I asked P about it because he didn't go to boarding school but did go to a fairly posh grammar and he said the canings were commonplace but he couldn't remember any nubile matrons:)

Anyway at the end of this story is a link which gives really excellent information about caning, written by the story's author, and as I often get asked about it I thought I would share. 

 Getting the Cane ...

"A true and personal memoir ... "

Like all pupils at a Public School one expected sooner or later to be caned, one dreaded the moment only knowing by rumour and ear what it would be like. Public caning was not practised very often.

I was introduced to the cane in the late 1050's when our Form Master lost it and decided to cane the whole class. I remember as if it was yesterday when it came to my turn to bend over and touch my tows. The surprise that it didn't hurt very much, that was until about 20 seconds later when I was back at my desk, I was aware of the sudden appearance of an erection in my trousers and a sharp pain throbbing from my bottom up my spine, it was not unpleasant but it did hurt!

Like the others at break I went to the lavatory to look at the damage, I could feel the lump of the single stripe and could just see the classic twin tracks of deep red with white in between, by tea time they would be dark blue as the bruise developed. Later just grinding my buttocks into the desk seat where the bruise was would produce an erection.

The next time was memorable if only for the occasion, It was in gym by our second gym master a Turk who was a brute and strong, the pain was much greater the single stroke having been laid on especially hard through only my shorts and with great accuracy, the "mark" took five weeks to go away.

The next time was rather more serious. Two of us were in trouble and told by the master a Physics Master called Hancock (I'll never forget him) to report to the First Aid Room which doubled as an execution chamber! WE knew we were going to be caned and Hancock's reputation went before him! He arrived carrying the standard senior school can between 3/8" & 1./2" thick straight and made from rattan cane. The other boy (David Brett) went in first and after some talking  a brief silence and then the whistle of the cane and the "thwack as it hit the target" Repeated four times! David came out looking white but walking! Then it was my turn, "bend down" some fumbling as he hitched up my jacket and felt to ensure I hadn't put on any padding like extra pants or gym shorts, he pulled up my shirt tail which I had carefully pulled right down. "Four and don't move!" Then swish crack thump as the first stroke hit home, not too bad, but I spoke too soon at about ten second intervals, and by the time he'd laid on the fourth my bottom was really thumping! The usual erection was by now showing.

He then left the room with me and told us both to report to the matron after school.

I went straight after teas and Matron was expecting me, she was a very neat 20 year old assistant matron.
She made me take off my trousers and lay down on the couch in the room, she rubbed in some cream and told me to turn over. Why? I turned over and there she was naked. She pounced on me and took me into her very quickly and went at it, demanding that I then come on top of her, the ejaculation was a blessed relief, and it's no wonder that I got a taste for being caned! 

Which in turn lent me to get taste for being caned as an adult.

And here's the link for anyone who's thinking about using a cane or just curious, it is very informative indeed.

Have a fun weekend.


Wednesday, 11 July 2018

55 cm of sting

Well I suppose it was probably no more than 15-20cm at any one time doing the actual stinging, I mean the contact, but of course the extra length determines how much sting gets delivered. Retrospectively (certainly not at the time) I would have liked more sting but 55cm was my max baggage allowance, I supposed I could have squeezed a few more if I'd packed it diagonally but I, or rather my husband, didn't think of that.
I'm talking about my England flag which would have been the cutest England flag any security office had ever seen, with its shiny stem and its neat little red handle with hanging loop, if I'd been stopped and searched. But I wasn't. And when we'd reached our destination and settled in, the flag was unfurled and removed from the pole and laid inside my husband's travel bag. And there it remained until the third day of our holiday in spite of me reminding him a couple of times that it would have to be reassembled if we were to take it into town with us to watch the football. He just smiled.
The second evening the weather turned, the sky clouded and a warm wind got up, we started a meal outside a restaurant but swapped to inside halfway through because the wind was blowing everything around. Locals thought rain was imminent but it didn't happen, it stayed warm too but hardly anyone was left outside because of the wind. I checked my phone and told P it said possible light showers for the next day, in line with what I'd checked back home. P 'humphed' a bit, said he didn't like eating indoors, wasn't what he came on holiday for but the food was still good and the atmosphere was friendly. We were both in happy mode and visited a couple of bars after we'd eaten, it was midnight before we decided it was bedtime, either a taxi or a twenty-five minute walk uphill and slightly out of town to where we were staying. We walked, in fact we did every night, and got a few big splashes of warm rain on the way but it didn't take hold. P asked me if I'd brought my handbag umbrella, I told him he must be joking. He clutched my bottom and told me he hoped we didn't get drenched then or someone would be getting spanked. That made me feel even warmer inside than I did outside.
Next morning, I suppose about 5.30 am maybe earlier, I could hear drumming outside, it got louder and I realised it was rain and it escalated the way hot country rain does. P heard it too and sat up to look at the terrace door which we'd left open and where the rain was bouncing and splashing inside it was so heavy. P got out of bed to close it and then the first lightning flash came. I heard him say 'Christ!' and then the door sliding almost shut. Then a few seconds later the first thunder clap. I love continental thunderstorms, I was wide awake now but snuggled tightly into the single sheet. I saw my husband stride across the room, I thought he was going to make coffee but he went to the wardrobe instead and reached up to the top shelf where he'd put his bag. When he turned and came back to the bed he had the cane in his hand.
"So it looks as if we are going to get drenched after all," he said.
"We're not drenched at all," I said, "this will pass, these little storms always do." Then I thought how stupid am I, and added, "But then again the weather graphic did show cloud for the whole day."
"Turn over," he instructed. I went to unravel the sheet as I turned but he snapped leave it as it was and just turn my body over.
He swished the cane a few times through the air. The rain was really heavy by now and P told me it was perfect caning weather, I know his sense of humour, I knew it wasn't going to be a serious caning, not with a sheet for protection although I didn't have any knickers on underneath.
"Best make use of it," he said cheerily, "in case it does continue into the day, then I might have to cane you without the benefit of the thunder to disguise the strokes. And your whimpers."
I like hearing him say that sort of thing. Then he told me it made a lovely target, my bottom cheeks like sculptures, two mounds rising up under the thin cotton, offering themselves for chastisement. What sort of drivel was that I thought, but I'm sure I raised said bottom cheeks a tad higher. Then I felt the first thwack, sharp as a thunder crack. Followed by another and another before I could catch my breath. He gave me six then ordered me to shuffle to the middle of the bed and he walked round to the other side. I felt him take hold of the sheet and though he was going to unveil me but instead he adjusted it so that it was tight and smooth against my bottom, I guess I ravelled it when I shuffled across. The rain slowed a bit and I heard the stroke swish through the air, god it was sharp and I squealed. Another five, which had me wriggling I hoped lasciviously for all I was worth, and then I felt him lifting and sliding the sheet off my shoulders and down my back. He rested in the small of my back and stroked, then continued over my hips and buttocks making me release weight from side to side to let it slide. He stopped it half way down my thighs and told me my bottom looked very red but there were no stripes.
I felt him straighten up, then he told me a bottom had to have stripes after a visit from the cane, then he gave me another six swishes and they seemed extra hard because I'd just had six from that side and I squealed quite a bit but still raised my bottom for more, greedy slut that I am. P walked casually back to the original side of the bed and gave me six real stingers, absolute humdingers that made my eyes water. The rain had picked up again, I thought he might go with it, I didn't want him to but I didn't want him to stop either. I watched him walk back to the wardrobe and replace the cane, this time he walked back to the bed with just a hard on.
He got in beside me and snuggled. More lightning and thunder followed. I wanted sex but I wanted to enjoy the moment too. P stayed my hand when I reached across for his cock, goodness knows where his self control comes from because he'd looked pretty urgent as he'd strode across the room. We lay there enjoying the storm, I eventually drifted back to sleep, I don't know whether P did but when I woke back up it was seven thirty and he was still next to me. This time I didn't bother reaching for him, instead I snuggled my head down under the flimsy sheet and found his cock with my mouth. It had been sleeping but it didn't take long to wake up and a few minutes later we could have done with some more of that thunder to mask the roar of my husband as I thanked him for my caning.

Monday, 9 July 2018

In with the New - Wimbledon Edition

A little late with this 'In with the New' edition. I meant to schedule it for when I was away, but never mind, better late than never. Please try and find time to stop by.

Harley Quinn Twitter
Lonely Harley needs the crazy joker to lead punish discipline and please her.

Grace the Adult Schoolgirl
Grace allows herself to be treated as an adult schoolgirl. That means full uniform, studies, lines, cornertime and spankings. 

Ian Davis Twitter
Long time top lucky enough to have a wife who is a bottom.

Hiebe mit Liebe
Blows with love.

The Disciplinary Couples Club
A forum for disciplined Husbands and disciplinary wives to share their thoughts regarding domestic discipline and female led relationships.

Mr Kink Twitter
A bit of top and bottom fun

Reyna McKenzie Twitter 
Spanking model with a smart, quick mouth.

Musing of a Chaotic Mind
The creations of Kessily Lewel.

Miss Chris
Disciplinarian, life coach, and sex educator.

Do it ... Or Else 
Elicit loving spanking encouragement.

RDJ Twitter
Chronicles of Correction

Thanks to Bonnie for her contribution.


Have a good week


Picture from OBB

Friday, 6 July 2018

My Pal Ronaldo

So I got my photo taken with Ronaldo whilst on holiday. A red cow got in on the act too.

I suppose it's the nearest I'll get to the real Ronaldo and it wasn't too difficult as his image was all over the place, Portugal being football crazy and me a bit of a fan....yes of the football as well as Ronaldo because of his foodball skills (and I wouldn't mind giving his bum a quick squeeze:)).

P took this photo in Vila Real on the Portuguese Spanish border, we had intended to drive across the suspension bridge but then thought why not take the passenger ferry. Then when we got to the ticket office the lady asked us if we had our passports, she'd just asked the same of two Americans in front of us. We explained we were EU citizens and she shrugged her shoulders as if to say 'so what.'

P spoke Spanish, the languages are similar and understood especially on the border where there is a crossover of workers. She told him that sometimes it might be ok, sometimes they might accept a driving licence but other times they might refuse entrance and we'd have to stay on the ferry and come straight back. We had neither passports nor driving licences with us so we didn't go.  

As it happened Ronaldo's magic couldn't swing the football for Portugal and they went out. You could have heard a pin drop in the town that night when it was all over. I was so disappointed for them and the staff, who work so hard to help make tourists happy in their country, biting back the disappointment and professionally putting brave face on and getting back to looking after their guests. P even left a bigger than average tip, he must be getting soft. Then on Tuesday night when England triumphed over Columbia the staff cheered as much as us English, it was nice to be part of.

Now back home and it's even hotter than Portugal was. I'll miss that atmosphere when I watch England/Sweden on Saturday.

Thanks for all your comments - will be a day or two before I reply.

Have a fun weekend.


PS. my cane wrapped in an England flag went through security unhindered, brought it back too. It got used a couple of times the most notable during a thunderstorm one morning but I'll tell you about that later.  

Wednesday, 4 July 2018

Happy 4th

Wishing all our American friends a happy, safe and wonderful Independence Day.


Picture from Disciplined Behaviour.