Note to self - Must buy P a new riding crop.
Have a fun weekend.
Ronnie
xx
Let me know if picture is yours.
Punishment For Careless Hexing
13 hours ago
Friday, 31 January 2014
Wednesday, 29 January 2014
The Halfway House
From the 1940's. Made me smile.
My laptop is sick. I've had to take it in for repair. No idea what's wrong with it. (must have corrupted it:)) Asked how long it would take and the girl said allow 28 days because they have to send it off for repair. She must have seen the look on my face and quickly added it only takes that long if it needs new parts. Seriously, it's a real pain not having it so keep fingers crossed for me it doesn't need new parts.
I've scheduled this post and one for Friday.
Ronnie
xx
Video from Memories of a Strict Uncle.
My laptop is sick. I've had to take it in for repair. No idea what's wrong with it. (must have corrupted it:)) Asked how long it would take and the girl said allow 28 days because they have to send it off for repair. She must have seen the look on my face and quickly added it only takes that long if it needs new parts. Seriously, it's a real pain not having it so keep fingers crossed for me it doesn't need new parts.
I've scheduled this post and one for Friday.
Ronnie
xx
Video from Memories of a Strict Uncle.
Monday, 27 January 2014
Traditional vs Modern
Well which is best? I'm not taking a side or drawing any conclusion or trying to make a case either way. What got me thinking was the other day I was surfing and came across a couple of new blogs (spanking related of course) and just loved the style of writing and the subjects covered, they were fresh and punchy and observant and daring, romantic too and they clearly attracted like minded readers, I could tell from the comments and followers. The blog rolls linked to similar stuff, much of which I hadn't seen before.
I enjoyed them so much I thought right, must change my wallpaper, colour scheme, template etc....change my writing style too, shorter lines, shorter posts:) But then I thought about it and decided no I wouldn't do any of those things (well I might do one day but not because of). Why? Because if I did, and if we all did, we'd all be the same and that wouldn't do at all. There's room for everyone and that's what keeps it interesting. Still, I was definitely impressed with what I saw so if you detect any subtle or, worse, unsubtle, changes in my online behaviour give me a quick slap (metaphorically that is) and restore me to my default style.
Having said all that I don't have a spanking to report. Sigh. So I'm reproducing a story I posted a few years back, it's set in a time gone by, in a large country household with domestic staff, lady of the house and of course master of the house, titled naturally. It's old fashioned stuff, but not any less erotic for that:-
Lady Barclay stood in front of her husband's desk, it was huge as befitted a man of his station. Lord Barclay sat the other side, upright, stern, finished signing some papers before placing them in a drawer, desk top clear save the small black and white portrait of the two of them on their wedding day. He looked up at his wife, she was still in her jodhpurs after her morning ride, she was a handsome woman, make any man proud he'd often thought, but he would not have her usurping his authority or abusing the privileges her position as his wife afforded.
''Penelope,'' he said, a bad sign as Penny was his preference, ''I've called you to my study because I've heard reports that yesterday an incident occurred with one of the grooms, the new boy, Tobias I believe, and that you saw fit to intervene on my behalf and take certain disciplinary action. Would you care to elucidate?'' Lady Barclay shifted uneasily from foot to foot, dinner had passed uneventful last night, their guests had gone, she'd thought of the incident as private, she doubted if the boy Tobias would have raised the matter, perhaps then one of her friends had tittered innocently to her husband and he had seen fit to inform Lord Barclay. No matter for now, it was done and an honest answer was required. Lord Barclay's study was no place for untruths; she had learned before their marriage, in their courting period when she'd had her backside reddened more than once, that her husband to be was not a man to trifle with.
Lady Barclay summarised the incident, making sure everything she said was true but not recounting everything which had taken place, she had no idea how much her husband already knew. There had been an incident with the new boy, Mr Stevens had reported it to her and that he had refused discipline, she had decided the matter was serious and in her husband's absence to have the boy brought before her, confront him with dismissal or a summary flogging from her, the latter of which he had reluctantly accepted.
''I'd heard as much, Penelope, and it's as well you've told me candidly. But you know there are strict rules in this household, they are in place for the benefit of us all and I won't have you going off and flouting them. You know well enough that Stevens is permitted to administer spankings at certain levels, but other than that staff are referred to me unconditionally where corporal punishment is required.'' He spoke as he rose and turned away from his desk to the walnut cabinet in the corner of his study, where he kept a small selection of canes.''I'm going to thrash you for undermining my authority as master of this house,'' he removed a straight cane with a bound leather handle and closed the cabinet door,''and I hope it will make you think twice before taking matters into your own hands again.''
Lord Barclay turned from the cabinet and faced his wife.''You know the procedure, madam, across my desk if you will.'' Penelope felt her stomach somersault and her knees weaken as her husband approached. She lowered herself until the smooth polished edge of the desk nudged into the tops of her thighs and then stretched fully across, reaching the opposite edge with her fingers and pulling herself as far as she could. Her high waisted jodhpurs moulded to the womanly globes of her bottom, accentuating the fullness of her cheeks and separating them provocatively. Under different circumstances her husband could have been inclined to mount her but he had very different responsibilities to perform, no less intense but certainly more painful. For his wife at least.
She felt his hand rest briefly on the small of her back pressing her further against the wood and inlaid leather of the desk. ''Relax your legs, let your weight fall into the desk top,'' her husband ordered. She responded, knowing that as soon as he saw her thigh and buttock muscles release he would lay on the first stroke, she went to say something in mitigation of what she'd done but the dreadful swishing sound of the cane in flight told her she was too late. She gasped as the initial sting registered, the shock temporarily anaesthetising her from the pain, long enough for the second stroke to land wickedly close, followed by the deep burn overlapping from the first stroke, causing her to cry out from the shock of pain invading her flesh and fear of what was to come. Four more strokes followed in rapid succession and had her squirming against the solid desk, her knuckles white from her grip on the far edge, determined not to rise until told.
''Get up, madam, turn and face me.'' his voice was flat, he stood barely a pace away, cane resting across his hands.''Head up, let me see that pretty face.'' She looked him squarely in the face, her eyes were moist, hers legs quivering from the after shock of the beating, she desperately wanted to rub or to move around or both.
''Now, Penelope, have you omitted anything about the incident which happened yesterday, anything you may have forgotten or considered unimportant, hardly worth the telling?'' Oh God she felt weak, how could he possibly know? Did he know? Was he bluffing to test her? She couldn't imagine that any of her friends would have betrayed her knowingly, and surely the boy would not have complained about the lewd act she'd made him perform. ''Sir, everything I've told you was true I swear it.'' she said.
''That was not my question and you know it,'' Lord Barclay's tone indicated some impatience, ''my question invited you to make a clean breast of things. Is it not true that you had your friends in attendance when the incident was reported, and is it not true that you allowed them to witness your interrogation and subsequent punishment of the boy from the open door of the adjoining room?'' ''And is it not true, madam, that you humiliated the boy in addition to the thrashing you meted out, by probing his sexual experience making him answer questions totally unrelated to the matter at hand? In order to amuse, titillate and show off in front of your friends?'' His cane was tapping impatiently against his thigh, his temper was up, that she could see. But mercifully it seemed he was unaware of the act she'd had the boy carry out so exquisitely in his innocence and naivety.
''It is true, husband, but I beg you to see it not in the worst light, my thought was to act swiftly to uphold the discipline you have always so evenly maintained, it was a matter of expedience to remove my guests to the next room, their amusement or otherwise was of no concern to me. The questions I subjected the boy to were just to take him down a peg as he exhibited a most unseemly pride, even after his thrashing, almost challenging to my perception.''
''All the more reason then, madam, for you to leave such business to me. But from what I've heard the afternoon was more of an entertainment than you would have me know. I will not have my staff so abused. Nor will I have my wife conceal or withhold information from me. Lower your breeches Penelope, I believe you caned the boy twice, I shall cane you twice also and you shall receive your second caning on the bare, it will deepen both sting and humiliation and be a lasting lesson to you.''
Lady Barclay hadn't the stomach or conviction to further argue her case, she had erred, she should be grateful the full extent of her corruption was apparently not known. She unfastened and lowered her jodhpurs, turned and prostrated herself without commotion. She heard him move close behind her and then his thumbs hooked into the waistband of her satin knickers. ''These too, madam, when I say on the bare I mean it.'' She shuddered as they were pulled down roughly to her thighs, then the tail of her silk shirt flipped up over her waist causing a brief whisper of cool air. She sensed her husband stand aside, she whimpered instinctively anticipating what was to come and then the white hot streak of pain seared into her flesh this time atop the welts she'd already earned, and she cried out. The second stroke landed mid cry, it swiftness and severity shocking every sense she had and twisting her cry into a grotesque guttural scream which resonated with wild fluctuations through three further strokes when he paused, allowing his wife time to recover her senses and absorb the collective pain which was undoubtedly suffusing through every nerve in her writhing derriere. He relished for a brief moment the prospect of spearing that lush and sensuous part of his wife's anatomy, the ultimate mastery he mused briefly.
''Penelope, I trust you'll remember this the next time you're tempted to take matters inappropriately into your own hands for the spectacle and amusement of your friends.'' Lady Barclay was sobbing with great heaving breaths, her tears flowing freely, before she could muster a contrite response her husband delivered the final stroke of the cane, landing wickedly across the lower fleshiest parts of her cheeks. Lady Barclay's 'yes sir...' mutated into a piercing unintelligible scream as the pain from this harshest stroke further outraged her livid senses. Lord Barclay watched as the quivering bottom, now purple and red, recovered from the stroke, the flesh refilling the indent caused by his cane, his wife's scream subsided to heavy sobs and gulping breaths, he walked to the corner cabinet and replaced the cane shutting the door with a precise clip and then strode to the leather winged chair where he sat heavily, an action his wife was unlikely to be doing for some time.
Penelope had not looked up but she knew it was over, she lay sobbing, her face wet against the tears which had collected on the green leather inlay of the desk. ''When you're ready, madam, you may get up and restore your modesty, I shall order tea for us in the drawing room but first you will attend to me as my wife and we shall put behind us this unfortunate matter. Penelope heard the fly on her husband's twill trouser unzip and the leather chair creak as he adjusted position. She stood slowly, her bottom flesh was tight, it felt swollen and raging from the assault, she bent to retrieve her knickers and breeches, winced as she pulled the delicate satin into place and then spluttered into renewed sobbing as the unyielding fabric of her jodhpurs, now two sizes too small, encased her buttocks in their own heat after a painful struggle to re fit them. She stood a while. When she turned to her husband she was crying and sniffling spasmodically, her face flushed and shiny on one side from the pool of tears on the desk. Lord Barclay thought she looked magnificent, she had learned her lesson he was quite sure, and now she would demonstrate her contrition and acquiescence.
When Lady Barclay knelt at her husband's lap and released his manhood from the confines of the heavy material it lunged forward, the purple cock head glistening, drops of pearly pre cum rolling from its eye. Penelope stretched painfully forward and took it dutifully, submissively, perhaps even gratefully, between her lips whilst her husband tenderly wiped away the tears which trailed down her cheeks.
Have a good week.
Ronnie
xx
I enjoyed them so much I thought right, must change my wallpaper, colour scheme, template etc....change my writing style too, shorter lines, shorter posts:) But then I thought about it and decided no I wouldn't do any of those things (well I might do one day but not because of). Why? Because if I did, and if we all did, we'd all be the same and that wouldn't do at all. There's room for everyone and that's what keeps it interesting. Still, I was definitely impressed with what I saw so if you detect any subtle or, worse, unsubtle, changes in my online behaviour give me a quick slap (metaphorically that is) and restore me to my default style.
Having said all that I don't have a spanking to report. Sigh. So I'm reproducing a story I posted a few years back, it's set in a time gone by, in a large country household with domestic staff, lady of the house and of course master of the house, titled naturally. It's old fashioned stuff, but not any less erotic for that:-
Lady Barclay stood in front of her husband's desk, it was huge as befitted a man of his station. Lord Barclay sat the other side, upright, stern, finished signing some papers before placing them in a drawer, desk top clear save the small black and white portrait of the two of them on their wedding day. He looked up at his wife, she was still in her jodhpurs after her morning ride, she was a handsome woman, make any man proud he'd often thought, but he would not have her usurping his authority or abusing the privileges her position as his wife afforded.''Penelope,'' he said, a bad sign as Penny was his preference, ''I've called you to my study because I've heard reports that yesterday an incident occurred with one of the grooms, the new boy, Tobias I believe, and that you saw fit to intervene on my behalf and take certain disciplinary action. Would you care to elucidate?'' Lady Barclay shifted uneasily from foot to foot, dinner had passed uneventful last night, their guests had gone, she'd thought of the incident as private, she doubted if the boy Tobias would have raised the matter, perhaps then one of her friends had tittered innocently to her husband and he had seen fit to inform Lord Barclay. No matter for now, it was done and an honest answer was required. Lord Barclay's study was no place for untruths; she had learned before their marriage, in their courting period when she'd had her backside reddened more than once, that her husband to be was not a man to trifle with.
Lady Barclay summarised the incident, making sure everything she said was true but not recounting everything which had taken place, she had no idea how much her husband already knew. There had been an incident with the new boy, Mr Stevens had reported it to her and that he had refused discipline, she had decided the matter was serious and in her husband's absence to have the boy brought before her, confront him with dismissal or a summary flogging from her, the latter of which he had reluctantly accepted.
''I'd heard as much, Penelope, and it's as well you've told me candidly. But you know there are strict rules in this household, they are in place for the benefit of us all and I won't have you going off and flouting them. You know well enough that Stevens is permitted to administer spankings at certain levels, but other than that staff are referred to me unconditionally where corporal punishment is required.'' He spoke as he rose and turned away from his desk to the walnut cabinet in the corner of his study, where he kept a small selection of canes.''I'm going to thrash you for undermining my authority as master of this house,'' he removed a straight cane with a bound leather handle and closed the cabinet door,''and I hope it will make you think twice before taking matters into your own hands again.''
Lord Barclay turned from the cabinet and faced his wife.''You know the procedure, madam, across my desk if you will.'' Penelope felt her stomach somersault and her knees weaken as her husband approached. She lowered herself until the smooth polished edge of the desk nudged into the tops of her thighs and then stretched fully across, reaching the opposite edge with her fingers and pulling herself as far as she could. Her high waisted jodhpurs moulded to the womanly globes of her bottom, accentuating the fullness of her cheeks and separating them provocatively. Under different circumstances her husband could have been inclined to mount her but he had very different responsibilities to perform, no less intense but certainly more painful. For his wife at least.
She felt his hand rest briefly on the small of her back pressing her further against the wood and inlaid leather of the desk. ''Relax your legs, let your weight fall into the desk top,'' her husband ordered. She responded, knowing that as soon as he saw her thigh and buttock muscles release he would lay on the first stroke, she went to say something in mitigation of what she'd done but the dreadful swishing sound of the cane in flight told her she was too late. She gasped as the initial sting registered, the shock temporarily anaesthetising her from the pain, long enough for the second stroke to land wickedly close, followed by the deep burn overlapping from the first stroke, causing her to cry out from the shock of pain invading her flesh and fear of what was to come. Four more strokes followed in rapid succession and had her squirming against the solid desk, her knuckles white from her grip on the far edge, determined not to rise until told.
''Get up, madam, turn and face me.'' his voice was flat, he stood barely a pace away, cane resting across his hands.''Head up, let me see that pretty face.'' She looked him squarely in the face, her eyes were moist, hers legs quivering from the after shock of the beating, she desperately wanted to rub or to move around or both.
''Now, Penelope, have you omitted anything about the incident which happened yesterday, anything you may have forgotten or considered unimportant, hardly worth the telling?'' Oh God she felt weak, how could he possibly know? Did he know? Was he bluffing to test her? She couldn't imagine that any of her friends would have betrayed her knowingly, and surely the boy would not have complained about the lewd act she'd made him perform. ''Sir, everything I've told you was true I swear it.'' she said.
''That was not my question and you know it,'' Lord Barclay's tone indicated some impatience, ''my question invited you to make a clean breast of things. Is it not true that you had your friends in attendance when the incident was reported, and is it not true that you allowed them to witness your interrogation and subsequent punishment of the boy from the open door of the adjoining room?'' ''And is it not true, madam, that you humiliated the boy in addition to the thrashing you meted out, by probing his sexual experience making him answer questions totally unrelated to the matter at hand? In order to amuse, titillate and show off in front of your friends?'' His cane was tapping impatiently against his thigh, his temper was up, that she could see. But mercifully it seemed he was unaware of the act she'd had the boy carry out so exquisitely in his innocence and naivety.
''It is true, husband, but I beg you to see it not in the worst light, my thought was to act swiftly to uphold the discipline you have always so evenly maintained, it was a matter of expedience to remove my guests to the next room, their amusement or otherwise was of no concern to me. The questions I subjected the boy to were just to take him down a peg as he exhibited a most unseemly pride, even after his thrashing, almost challenging to my perception.''
''All the more reason then, madam, for you to leave such business to me. But from what I've heard the afternoon was more of an entertainment than you would have me know. I will not have my staff so abused. Nor will I have my wife conceal or withhold information from me. Lower your breeches Penelope, I believe you caned the boy twice, I shall cane you twice also and you shall receive your second caning on the bare, it will deepen both sting and humiliation and be a lasting lesson to you.''
Lady Barclay hadn't the stomach or conviction to further argue her case, she had erred, she should be grateful the full extent of her corruption was apparently not known. She unfastened and lowered her jodhpurs, turned and prostrated herself without commotion. She heard him move close behind her and then his thumbs hooked into the waistband of her satin knickers. ''These too, madam, when I say on the bare I mean it.'' She shuddered as they were pulled down roughly to her thighs, then the tail of her silk shirt flipped up over her waist causing a brief whisper of cool air. She sensed her husband stand aside, she whimpered instinctively anticipating what was to come and then the white hot streak of pain seared into her flesh this time atop the welts she'd already earned, and she cried out. The second stroke landed mid cry, it swiftness and severity shocking every sense she had and twisting her cry into a grotesque guttural scream which resonated with wild fluctuations through three further strokes when he paused, allowing his wife time to recover her senses and absorb the collective pain which was undoubtedly suffusing through every nerve in her writhing derriere. He relished for a brief moment the prospect of spearing that lush and sensuous part of his wife's anatomy, the ultimate mastery he mused briefly.
''Penelope, I trust you'll remember this the next time you're tempted to take matters inappropriately into your own hands for the spectacle and amusement of your friends.'' Lady Barclay was sobbing with great heaving breaths, her tears flowing freely, before she could muster a contrite response her husband delivered the final stroke of the cane, landing wickedly across the lower fleshiest parts of her cheeks. Lady Barclay's 'yes sir...' mutated into a piercing unintelligible scream as the pain from this harshest stroke further outraged her livid senses. Lord Barclay watched as the quivering bottom, now purple and red, recovered from the stroke, the flesh refilling the indent caused by his cane, his wife's scream subsided to heavy sobs and gulping breaths, he walked to the corner cabinet and replaced the cane shutting the door with a precise clip and then strode to the leather winged chair where he sat heavily, an action his wife was unlikely to be doing for some time.
Penelope had not looked up but she knew it was over, she lay sobbing, her face wet against the tears which had collected on the green leather inlay of the desk. ''When you're ready, madam, you may get up and restore your modesty, I shall order tea for us in the drawing room but first you will attend to me as my wife and we shall put behind us this unfortunate matter. Penelope heard the fly on her husband's twill trouser unzip and the leather chair creak as he adjusted position. She stood slowly, her bottom flesh was tight, it felt swollen and raging from the assault, she bent to retrieve her knickers and breeches, winced as she pulled the delicate satin into place and then spluttered into renewed sobbing as the unyielding fabric of her jodhpurs, now two sizes too small, encased her buttocks in their own heat after a painful struggle to re fit them. She stood a while. When she turned to her husband she was crying and sniffling spasmodically, her face flushed and shiny on one side from the pool of tears on the desk. Lord Barclay thought she looked magnificent, she had learned her lesson he was quite sure, and now she would demonstrate her contrition and acquiescence.
When Lady Barclay knelt at her husband's lap and released his manhood from the confines of the heavy material it lunged forward, the purple cock head glistening, drops of pearly pre cum rolling from its eye. Penelope stretched painfully forward and took it dutifully, submissively, perhaps even gratefully, between her lips whilst her husband tenderly wiped away the tears which trailed down her cheeks.
Have a good week.
Ronnie
xx
Friday, 24 January 2014
Spanking in Comics
Click any of the pictures for larger image.
I love to see spanking in comics or magazines. Found on my travels around the web. All new to me.
Have a fun weekend.
Ronnie
xx
As always, if any belong to you please let me know.
As always, if any belong to you please let me know.
Wednesday, 22 January 2014
I'll spank you publicly in the car park
I asked P the question as we were driving on the A5, I had my hand resting high on his left thigh at the time and my finger tips were idly stroking his chinos.
"You wouldn't really have taken me out into Waitrose's car park the other day and spanked me, would you?" I asked coyly. My fingers increased their pressure just a little.
"Hmmm," was all I got back, it was a bit growly, a bit undecided and a bit why are you bothering me with this.
"I mean I know I was wrong (lie) and deserved to be spanked (lie, but who cares) but you wouldn't really have spanked me in public would you?" My fingers sensed movement inside the chinos and shifted position to encourage it.
"I'll be spanking you in the next layby right here on the A5 if you don't stop that." He said it as if he meant it and it made me feel warm.
I thought to myself 'not if you've got a great big stain on your chinos, you'd be too embarrassed to get out of the car' but I didn't say it. I just smiled and moved my hand slowly down to his knee. So I didn't get my answer, but I did get a spanking when we got home, a playful one though as befitted the banter we'd exchanged during the rest of our trip.
Sometimes little cuddly nonsense spankings are just the job, even though your mind might hanker after somewhat more dramatic attentions.
Ronnie
xx
Monday, 20 January 2014
Kinky Knickers makers in administration
It was an email my husband sent me on Saturday
morning, he was at the office but he'd spotted it in quick read of the
morning business headlines, he quipped 'maybe you'd like to buy some cheap
stock to sell online'. I opened the link to the Guardian article and saw it was a Mary Portas involvement, which put me
off right away because, as I've said before on here, I don't rate her I think
she failed as the so called 'High Street Queen' and now it seems as the
'kinky knickers queen'.
But there's a market for good quality
sensual erotic knickers (I wouldn't use the word kinky) as long as they fit
well and I hope the firm behind the lingerie find someone who can turn them
round, for the sake of the staff if nothing else. I like nice knickers, I
like them to feel good, fit well and look good too even though they are only
likely to get an audience of one, if you exclude me (apart from the rare occasion when I recklessly expose
myself on here). I used to buy Elle but her range has changed fit-wise
or seems to have, I've checked out Agent Provocateur but only bought a
couple of times, the reality didn't match up to the videos, there really is
a gap in the market.
I suppose my take on knickers might
be skewed a bit by my husband's assertion over many years that the type
of knickers I'm wearing can have a significant influence on
the way he spanks me. I try to make a mental note of the ones that go
with the hardest spankings and buy more less of that type. At the
end of the day I'd say any 'kink' must be in the mind of the
wearer and the eye of the beholder and I don't mind that at
all.
Have a good week.
Ronnie
xx
(and no, Mary wasn't producing knickers like the ones in the photo, if
she had maybe the administrators wouldn't have been called in)
Friday, 17 January 2014
WRNS discipline and a lasting friendship
...During the war when I was in my early 20s I was the junior officer at a base in the West Country. It was a training base used mainly for women recruits fresh out of basic who had to do various short courses before they could get their posting.
It was all very dull really, my job was to assign the women to their accommodation and help the various training officers write the progress reports for the CO.
I answered to a young Lieutenant Helen T who was responsible for trainee discipline. It was quite a shock for me on my first day to enter her office to find a young trainee half naked bent over her desk for a bare bottom caning.
“Out!” She yelled.
I could not get out of the office quick enough. I waited for about five minutes before the girl marched out in tears. I was still so surprised I nearly forgot to return her salute.
Afterwards Helen explained that she caned only for serious breaches of discipline and it was all above board. The trainees had a choice of accepting it or reporting to the CO. She laughed and told me that I could relax, as she did not usually cane officers. I remember I laughed with her slightly worried by the usually part of her statement.
I asked what the girl had done and was told she had been drunk and had missed curfew and was caught by the gate guard trying to climb over a 10 feet fence.
After that I was aware of a lot of canings by Helen and was even present for some of them. Now I think back I realise that at the time I would pretend to myself that I was sympathetic to the girls and appalled at their treatment. The whole thing in fact fascinated me and if I were really honest I was quite turned on (as they would say now days) at seeing the girls made to undress and then get their bottoms caned. But in those days I was not in touch with my feelings and did not think about my response.
Helen and I became quite good friends although she liked to let me know she was the boss. She was like my big sister always telling me off but always covering for me. I don’t think I was a very good example of a servicewoman.
Then one day something happened that changed my life forever. As I said it was a very quiet base and I did not have all that much to do. One of my regular jobs was to act as duty officer. This meant that I was on duty, sometimes over night, just in case something happened. I don’t know what could happen, if the invasion had happened I did not have a clue what to do.
So what I usually did when I was the duty officer at night was do my rounds to check everything was correct then sleep on the couch in the duty office.
There was also a duty sergeant and she could wake me if I was needed. One night of course she didn’t and it was Helen who discovered me asleep.
I could not believe how angry she was. She was no longer Helen my friend it was all yes ma’am no ma’am and three bags full. It took me a while to realise that I was in more trouble than I realised and that she was going to report me to the CO.
I tried to keep my dignity but asked her if she really had to do that. After all hadn’t some of the trainees done worse?
That was a big mistake. I was an officer. As duty officer I was responsible for base security, what if the balloon had gone up? How dare I compare myself to a trainee? Who did I think I was?
After that we walked around the base and checked everything. We even turned out the guard. I felt absolutely terrible and quite sick by the time I came off duty.
Helen told me to report to her office the next day. I had a sleepless night I can tell you.
The next morning I was on the carpet in front of Helen’s desk. Helen told me she had been thinking about what I had said the night before. She said if I had been a trainee I would be given the choice of two dozen with the cane across my bare bottom instead of a visit to the CO. She said it could remain between us if I accepted the same.
When I had suggested that she deal with me herself I had not been thinking that this would be an option. However I realised that there was no easy alternative for her. I cannot tell now what was going through my mind all those years ago. If it had been anyone else but Helen I don’t think I would have agreed.
It was very embarrassing as I removed my skirt, slip, jacket and knickers while she placed a padded chair in front of the desk. I then had to bend over the back of the chair with my elbows on the desk so that my head was lower than my bottom.
I tried not to look as she swished the cane but she did not rush and I was very apprehensive. The first stroke did not hurt as much as I expected at first. It took a moment for the pain to build up. Then it felt like a line of fire across my bottom. After that every stroke hurt and I was soon finding it very difficult to keep from crying out. I felt very embarrassed but the pain was much worse.
The caning was in two parts as she let me have a short rest about halfway through. All together the punishment must have lasted about 15 minutes. Although I almost maintained my composure all through it, once it was over I just burst into tears. Helen gave me a little hug before she helped me to dress.
My bottom was covered in dark lines for nearly two weeks after that and it was a few days before I could sit down.
Things changed a little between Helen and I after that. Although I did not dare sleep on duty after that I still made other mistakes and Helen did not help me cover them up as much as she had before.
About a month later I confused two trainees with almost the same name in the progress reports. It would not have been so bad but one was very good and the other had failed. I got a bollocking from the training officer who then sent me to Helen rather than the CO.
Helen told me she could deal with it herself again if I accepted 18 strokes. After 24 strokes before I did not think that 18 would be so bad so I accepted. In the event it actually seemed worse than before and I was crying before the caning was over this time.
Afterwards Helen came to my room and put some cream on my bottom. It felt very strange but also nice. I remember that she asked me who my favourite film star was while she was smoothing ointment into my bare bottom. I did not really have one so I said Ronald Coleman.
“Imagine it is Ronald Coleman who is putting cream on your bottom.” She said.
It was so ridiculous I laughed. But she told me to close my eyes and imagine. It was all very odd but I did become aroused. Then she kissed me.
I objected but she just told me to close my eyes and it would be all right. After that we had a kiss and cuddle on my bed. I liked it, it was strange and exciting and wrong but it was nice.
We had to be very careful around the base and outwardly Helen became a lot less friendly. But whenever we were off duty she would ask me if I wanted a Ronald Coleman tonight. I always blushed and said yes.
The other thing that changed was that whenever I did anything wrong she would cane me right off giving me no choice. It became so that I was caned for really trivial things and she always gave me a lot of strokes, more I think than I really deserved.
Our nights together went well beyond Ronald Coleman, although that was still a private joke between us, I was always scared that someone would find out, but that made it more exciting I think. Also when we were alone she sometimes put me over her knee and smacked me with a hairbrush. Sometimes it hurt quite a bit but I still let her do it even though I hadn't done anything wrong.
After the war we went our separate ways and I went back to live with my mother. My mother kept telling me I should get married but all I could think about was Helen and being caned and spanked by her.
Then one day I was in Oxford Circus of all places and I saw Helen crossing the road with another woman. She stopped to chat and we agreed to meet the next week. After that we went out a lot to the theatre and the cinema. Although for a long time nothing else happened between us.
Then one night over dinner she started talking about how mad the war was and how people did stupid things the would never do in peace time. I asked her what she meant.
“I mean like Ronald Coleman.” She was blushing.
I got very embarrassed and left the restaurant, I’ll never forget the look of horror on her face.
Afterwards I felt ashamed and devastated at the thought that I would never see her again. I eventually plucked up the courage to call her and she agreed to meet me.
We had a very emotional evening and a lot of drinks before going back to her place. When we got there I was shocked to see a cane laying on the coffee table. I asked her what it was for and she said I deserved to be punished for walking out on her the time before. I felt very dizzy and scared and asked her how many I would get. She said that would depend and she would start with 18.
I had forgotten how much it hurt, I had also nearly forgotten the starnge feelings it gave me, and she really took her time and made no effort to hide how much she enjoyed caning me. After I had taken 18 I was in tears but happy tears, she said she could stop there but that I had to take another 18 if I wanted Ronald Coleman to join us. Needless to say I agreed, although why the neighbours didn’t call the police I’ll never know, people must have heard my screams for miles.
That was nearly 40 years ago. We are still together and my bottom has suffered a great deal over the years.
Anon sent this account to me having noticed an above average number of caning references and pictures on my blog (really? I hadn't noticed:)) and thought I might like it. I did and I hope you did as well.
Thanks to Chross for letting us know Voice in the Corner had the story on her blog in 09.
Have a fun weekend.
Ronnie
xx
It was all very dull really, my job was to assign the women to their accommodation and help the various training officers write the progress reports for the CO.
I answered to a young Lieutenant Helen T who was responsible for trainee discipline. It was quite a shock for me on my first day to enter her office to find a young trainee half naked bent over her desk for a bare bottom caning.
“Out!” She yelled.
I could not get out of the office quick enough. I waited for about five minutes before the girl marched out in tears. I was still so surprised I nearly forgot to return her salute.
Afterwards Helen explained that she caned only for serious breaches of discipline and it was all above board. The trainees had a choice of accepting it or reporting to the CO. She laughed and told me that I could relax, as she did not usually cane officers. I remember I laughed with her slightly worried by the usually part of her statement.
I asked what the girl had done and was told she had been drunk and had missed curfew and was caught by the gate guard trying to climb over a 10 feet fence.
After that I was aware of a lot of canings by Helen and was even present for some of them. Now I think back I realise that at the time I would pretend to myself that I was sympathetic to the girls and appalled at their treatment. The whole thing in fact fascinated me and if I were really honest I was quite turned on (as they would say now days) at seeing the girls made to undress and then get their bottoms caned. But in those days I was not in touch with my feelings and did not think about my response.
Helen and I became quite good friends although she liked to let me know she was the boss. She was like my big sister always telling me off but always covering for me. I don’t think I was a very good example of a servicewoman.
Then one day something happened that changed my life forever. As I said it was a very quiet base and I did not have all that much to do. One of my regular jobs was to act as duty officer. This meant that I was on duty, sometimes over night, just in case something happened. I don’t know what could happen, if the invasion had happened I did not have a clue what to do.
So what I usually did when I was the duty officer at night was do my rounds to check everything was correct then sleep on the couch in the duty office.
There was also a duty sergeant and she could wake me if I was needed. One night of course she didn’t and it was Helen who discovered me asleep.
I could not believe how angry she was. She was no longer Helen my friend it was all yes ma’am no ma’am and three bags full. It took me a while to realise that I was in more trouble than I realised and that she was going to report me to the CO.
I tried to keep my dignity but asked her if she really had to do that. After all hadn’t some of the trainees done worse?
That was a big mistake. I was an officer. As duty officer I was responsible for base security, what if the balloon had gone up? How dare I compare myself to a trainee? Who did I think I was?
After that we walked around the base and checked everything. We even turned out the guard. I felt absolutely terrible and quite sick by the time I came off duty.
Helen told me to report to her office the next day. I had a sleepless night I can tell you.
The next morning I was on the carpet in front of Helen’s desk. Helen told me she had been thinking about what I had said the night before. She said if I had been a trainee I would be given the choice of two dozen with the cane across my bare bottom instead of a visit to the CO. She said it could remain between us if I accepted the same.
When I had suggested that she deal with me herself I had not been thinking that this would be an option. However I realised that there was no easy alternative for her. I cannot tell now what was going through my mind all those years ago. If it had been anyone else but Helen I don’t think I would have agreed.
It was very embarrassing as I removed my skirt, slip, jacket and knickers while she placed a padded chair in front of the desk. I then had to bend over the back of the chair with my elbows on the desk so that my head was lower than my bottom.
I tried not to look as she swished the cane but she did not rush and I was very apprehensive. The first stroke did not hurt as much as I expected at first. It took a moment for the pain to build up. Then it felt like a line of fire across my bottom. After that every stroke hurt and I was soon finding it very difficult to keep from crying out. I felt very embarrassed but the pain was much worse.
The caning was in two parts as she let me have a short rest about halfway through. All together the punishment must have lasted about 15 minutes. Although I almost maintained my composure all through it, once it was over I just burst into tears. Helen gave me a little hug before she helped me to dress.
My bottom was covered in dark lines for nearly two weeks after that and it was a few days before I could sit down.
Things changed a little between Helen and I after that. Although I did not dare sleep on duty after that I still made other mistakes and Helen did not help me cover them up as much as she had before.
About a month later I confused two trainees with almost the same name in the progress reports. It would not have been so bad but one was very good and the other had failed. I got a bollocking from the training officer who then sent me to Helen rather than the CO.
Helen told me she could deal with it herself again if I accepted 18 strokes. After 24 strokes before I did not think that 18 would be so bad so I accepted. In the event it actually seemed worse than before and I was crying before the caning was over this time.
Afterwards Helen came to my room and put some cream on my bottom. It felt very strange but also nice. I remember that she asked me who my favourite film star was while she was smoothing ointment into my bare bottom. I did not really have one so I said Ronald Coleman.
“Imagine it is Ronald Coleman who is putting cream on your bottom.” She said.
It was so ridiculous I laughed. But she told me to close my eyes and imagine. It was all very odd but I did become aroused. Then she kissed me.
I objected but she just told me to close my eyes and it would be all right. After that we had a kiss and cuddle on my bed. I liked it, it was strange and exciting and wrong but it was nice.
We had to be very careful around the base and outwardly Helen became a lot less friendly. But whenever we were off duty she would ask me if I wanted a Ronald Coleman tonight. I always blushed and said yes.
The other thing that changed was that whenever I did anything wrong she would cane me right off giving me no choice. It became so that I was caned for really trivial things and she always gave me a lot of strokes, more I think than I really deserved.
Our nights together went well beyond Ronald Coleman, although that was still a private joke between us, I was always scared that someone would find out, but that made it more exciting I think. Also when we were alone she sometimes put me over her knee and smacked me with a hairbrush. Sometimes it hurt quite a bit but I still let her do it even though I hadn't done anything wrong.
After the war we went our separate ways and I went back to live with my mother. My mother kept telling me I should get married but all I could think about was Helen and being caned and spanked by her.
Then one day I was in Oxford Circus of all places and I saw Helen crossing the road with another woman. She stopped to chat and we agreed to meet the next week. After that we went out a lot to the theatre and the cinema. Although for a long time nothing else happened between us.
Then one night over dinner she started talking about how mad the war was and how people did stupid things the would never do in peace time. I asked her what she meant.
“I mean like Ronald Coleman.” She was blushing.
I got very embarrassed and left the restaurant, I’ll never forget the look of horror on her face.
Afterwards I felt ashamed and devastated at the thought that I would never see her again. I eventually plucked up the courage to call her and she agreed to meet me.
We had a very emotional evening and a lot of drinks before going back to her place. When we got there I was shocked to see a cane laying on the coffee table. I asked her what it was for and she said I deserved to be punished for walking out on her the time before. I felt very dizzy and scared and asked her how many I would get. She said that would depend and she would start with 18.
I had forgotten how much it hurt, I had also nearly forgotten the starnge feelings it gave me, and she really took her time and made no effort to hide how much she enjoyed caning me. After I had taken 18 I was in tears but happy tears, she said she could stop there but that I had to take another 18 if I wanted Ronald Coleman to join us. Needless to say I agreed, although why the neighbours didn’t call the police I’ll never know, people must have heard my screams for miles.
That was nearly 40 years ago. We are still together and my bottom has suffered a great deal over the years.
Anon sent this account to me having noticed an above average number of caning references and pictures on my blog (really? I hadn't noticed:)) and thought I might like it. I did and I hope you did as well.
Thanks to Chross for letting us know Voice in the Corner had the story on her blog in 09.
Have a fun weekend.
Ronnie
xx
Wednesday, 15 January 2014
If I have to come after you...
.....I'll spank you publicly in the car park.
Strong words, eh? I was shopping, well hardly 'shopping' as I know it, just picking some steaks and seafood from Waitrose counter and P was doing the picking not me. In fact I prefer to stand away from him when he's doing that because he actually asks to see both sides of a piece of meat before he lets them cut it and he makes them rattle live shellfish around so that he can see the shells close. I prefer to be not 'with' him.
Anyway he got what he wanted, joined me, paid at the checkout and we were about to leave the store when he noticed another shopper with some sirloin steaks in her basket, with marked down prices (Waitrose do that and often by hand so it stands out) and he asked her where she'd got them from (she did look at him strangely) I thought bloody hell here we go. Apparently there were several with short sell dates marked down in their offers section, so P said 'come on we'll go see if they've got some left'
I was mortified, we'd already paid, I was embarrassed because I thought I knew the woman's face but couldn't place from where and I just wanted to get out. I said we couldn't swap them it wouldn't be right, P said we bloody well could, I started walking through the doors and in an instant P was at my side and he said (not exactly in a whisper either) that if I didn't come back with him right that minute he'd follow me into the car park and give me a public spanking.
God I felt my face go red and hot and I almost went light headed, it was too ridiculous yet he sounded serious.
My lips said 'don't be so ridiculous' but my heart thumped 'do it then if you dare' but I turned and went back with him, forcing a smile so that everyone would know there was nothing wrong. As if they gave a monkeys anyway, it just felt as if they were all looking at us. Mind you I bet a crowd would soon have developed if he really had carried out his threat:)
Anyway I was pleased to say they didn't have any of the cut price steaks left when we got to their bargain shelf and my husband agreed not to go and ask the butchery dept if the they had any more short dates to bring out as I pointed out the time and he had things to do.
Phew! Perhaps if we'd been in strange town...
Ronnie
xx
Strong words, eh? I was shopping, well hardly 'shopping' as I know it, just picking some steaks and seafood from Waitrose counter and P was doing the picking not me. In fact I prefer to stand away from him when he's doing that because he actually asks to see both sides of a piece of meat before he lets them cut it and he makes them rattle live shellfish around so that he can see the shells close. I prefer to be not 'with' him.
Anyway he got what he wanted, joined me, paid at the checkout and we were about to leave the store when he noticed another shopper with some sirloin steaks in her basket, with marked down prices (Waitrose do that and often by hand so it stands out) and he asked her where she'd got them from (she did look at him strangely) I thought bloody hell here we go. Apparently there were several with short sell dates marked down in their offers section, so P said 'come on we'll go see if they've got some left'
I was mortified, we'd already paid, I was embarrassed because I thought I knew the woman's face but couldn't place from where and I just wanted to get out. I said we couldn't swap them it wouldn't be right, P said we bloody well could, I started walking through the doors and in an instant P was at my side and he said (not exactly in a whisper either) that if I didn't come back with him right that minute he'd follow me into the car park and give me a public spanking.
My lips said 'don't be so ridiculous' but my heart thumped 'do it then if you dare' but I turned and went back with him, forcing a smile so that everyone would know there was nothing wrong. As if they gave a monkeys anyway, it just felt as if they were all looking at us. Mind you I bet a crowd would soon have developed if he really had carried out his threat:)
Anyway I was pleased to say they didn't have any of the cut price steaks left when we got to their bargain shelf and my husband agreed not to go and ask the butchery dept if the they had any more short dates to bring out as I pointed out the time and he had things to do.
Phew! Perhaps if we'd been in strange town...
Ronnie
xx
Monday, 13 January 2014
Drop my pants and bend over a leather armchair...
I know, the heading could have come from any one of loads of stories and accounts shown on blogs in our little world. But it didn't, instead I found it in yesterday's Sunday Times and the extract below could have been part of an erotic story but it wasn't....it was an actual account of abuse in one of Britain's top fee paying schools decades ago.
.....a year after arriving at the school in 1962, he was sent to be disciplined one night after being told off by a prefect for talking in the dormitory.
“I hadn’t been talking . . . so I said it wasn’t fair,” he recalled. He was instructed to take up the matter with the then rector Thomas Duggan, and remembered “going down one or two flights of stairs, then along this long dark corridor . . . into his room”.
“I remember him walking me up and down the room with his hand on my back and him saying, ‘Surely you’re not afraid of a little thrashing’, and me saying, ‘No, no, it’s not that, it’s the principle,’ and being proud of having got the word principle out.
“And then his hand went lower and started tapping my backside and he said, ‘Well, you realise, you’ve still got to be punished.’ Then he told me to take my dressing gown off and drop my pants and bend over a leather armchair in his room.”
Apparently several schools are being taken to court for compensation to be paid to victims of abuse, I presume they don't mean the thrashings which were perfectly legal but sexual abuse, about which the article does not go into detail. You can imagine.
I hate abuse, especially of minors. I imagine many of those 'top' educational facilities will be trying to keep their names out of the press by offering out of court settlements, I hope they fail. Britain is a good place to live but our 'elite' are often hypocrites with a lot to hide, it's nice to see them squirm sometimes even though no one usually takes any responsibility. Rant over.
Now as for the account itself, under different circumstances and between consenting adults....well that's a different matter.
Have a good week.
Ronnie
xx
.....a year after arriving at the school in 1962, he was sent to be disciplined one night after being told off by a prefect for talking in the dormitory.
“I hadn’t been talking . . . so I said it wasn’t fair,” he recalled. He was instructed to take up the matter with the then rector Thomas Duggan, and remembered “going down one or two flights of stairs, then along this long dark corridor . . . into his room”.
“I remember him walking me up and down the room with his hand on my back and him saying, ‘Surely you’re not afraid of a little thrashing’, and me saying, ‘No, no, it’s not that, it’s the principle,’ and being proud of having got the word principle out.
“And then his hand went lower and started tapping my backside and he said, ‘Well, you realise, you’ve still got to be punished.’ Then he told me to take my dressing gown off and drop my pants and bend over a leather armchair in his room.”
Apparently several schools are being taken to court for compensation to be paid to victims of abuse, I presume they don't mean the thrashings which were perfectly legal but sexual abuse, about which the article does not go into detail. You can imagine.
I hate abuse, especially of minors. I imagine many of those 'top' educational facilities will be trying to keep their names out of the press by offering out of court settlements, I hope they fail. Britain is a good place to live but our 'elite' are often hypocrites with a lot to hide, it's nice to see them squirm sometimes even though no one usually takes any responsibility. Rant over.
Now as for the account itself, under different circumstances and between consenting adults....well that's a different matter.
Have a good week.
Ronnie
xx
Friday, 10 January 2014
Tart Cards
The practice of placing cards was known as carding. It is a particularly English phenomenon specific to London and seaside resort around Brighton and Hove (though they did appear in other towns) For the printers who were prepared to take the risk they represented a very regular and lucrative business.
Sex sells but ironically sex was the one word that was not used on the cards. Hand written, euphemism, double entendres, catch phrases, plain text, rhymes and a specialised vocabulary.
There was a lot of competition so their business cards had to stand out from all the others.
Have a fun weekend.
xx
Wednesday, 8 January 2014
Play it Again.
Shame it didn't have music to it.
What tune do you think he's playing?
Ronnie
xx
Gif from Stan over at Au Fil Des Jours.
Monday, 6 January 2014
A Deal's a Deal
Twenty pounds
and two canings
The deal was made after a couple of glasses of wine
(I'd have negotiated out of the twenty quid in favour of a third caning if I'd
been thinking clearly:)) and it came about after my pre-xmas trip to Chester and
the designer outlet at Cheshire Oaks. I bought quite a lot of stuff, amongst it
a RL jacket for myself and a Polo sweater for P as a Christmas
present. I was delighted with the jacket until a couple of days after buying it
my son showed me some Barbours online which looked much nicer and he gets
discount. I sent for one and it was brilliant, much better all round than the
RL, sorry RL. Then the sweater I gave P on Christmas day had a tiny snag on the
front which I hadn't noticed in store and he said didn't matter but I said no way.
So I said we need to go back, notice we not I. P
said it was hardly worth a trip, the jacket looked good so why not keep it
and use it, and as for the sweater why not take it into Bham next time I
go and swap it for a snag free one. I told him that couldn't be done, the
outlet store goods aren't interchangeable with high street stores, he said
I could sweet talk a sales assistant into doing it but I assured him it wouldn't
work. He wasn't convinced. Then I told him how much the RL had cost and that
changed his perspective, he said he thought I'd told him it was cheap at the
outlet and I said I did and it was and it was a very good deal but I wouldn't
feel happy keeping it now I'd got the Barbour. He said he should think not and
that's when he agreed to drive up there with me but he said I had to pay the
petrol about 30 pounds and buy lunch. I reminded him there was an item of
his to be exchanged too so he said OK reduce the petrol cost and take
a caning instead, this was all light hearted banter you understand. I must
have agreed too quickly and with poorly
concealed enthusiasm because he followed up with 'Make that two canings
now that I know how much you spent on the jacket'. I said is that the
final offer and he said yes, and that was it we shook hands on
it.
On Saturday morning I was up bright and early,
before P for a change, I put a crisp twenty under his wallet so that he
couldn't miss it. He noticed it right away when he came downstairs and said he
liked that, a woman of her word. Then he got himself a mug of coffee and said if
we set off early we could stop off in Chester, he didn't think the outlet stores open before 10am anyway so I agreed, then he told me I should accompany him
upstairs, he had a little job to do before we left, he wanted me to know he kept
his word too. I guessed what the little job was and said didn't he want to
sit and drink his coffee and it would make us late and what about the drive
it would be uncomfortable. He just said it wouldn't be uncomfortable for him and
smirked.
In the bedroom he told me to stand by the bed
and take my jeans down.
I heard him take another slurp of coffee then the
wardrobe door slid open, I presumed he'd put a cane in there.
"Take your knickers down too," he said as he
came and stood at my left side, "and bend over with your hands flat on the
duvet."
I closed my eyes and scrunched the duvet with my
hands, I hadn't expected it and didn't really want it. The stroke seemed
to take ages coming and I thought he must be drinking his coffee or something
and I made to get up, I was going to suggest perhaps he kept his
word some other time. Then I heard the swish and my husband's
cane bit ferociously into my bottom causing me to gasp out loud
then 'Ooooouw P that was hard' as I turned my head towards him
intending to ask him to please be lenient. Unfortunately another stroke
landed before I could make my plea and I squealed
.jpg)
and thudded my feet on the
floor stamping from side to side.
"Keep still stop making such a fuss, only
another four," said my husband, "a deal's a deal."
I took the next four strokes better, they were
lighter then the first two but still left my backside raging. Then my husband's
hand patted my bum and he told me to pull up my knickers and jeans and we'd get
going. He pecked me on my cheek as I stood up and then he was off downstairs.
Ten minutes later we were heading for the M6, me a bit wriggly but that eased
off after half an hour or so and before we reached Chester I'd started to
feel a bit horny. I really hadn't wanted to be caned but the afterglow in my bum
and the prospect of a shopping expedition with my caner had set me up nicely. We
had an enjoyable day, or part day actually, and on the way back I started
talking about holidays and P didn't change the subject for a change, in fact
when I told him about the discounts some of the travel firms were offering on
low season breaks he said they sounded interesting and I should send him
a few links. Whoopee.
I don't know if or when I'll get the other caning,
I won't remind him. But if I do get it, if it's the same as that one Saturday
morning, and if I'm in the mood, I think I might like it because although I
made a fuss it wasn't really too severe and not too long either, just about
right.
Have a good week.
Ronnie
xxLet me know if the second or fourth picture belongs to you.
Friday, 3 January 2014
My New Year's Resolution....
.....is to get more spankings
and hopefully P's is to give me more:)
I loved his last NY's resolution.
Have you made a New Year's resolution to do with TTWD.
I loved his last NY's resolution.
Have you made a New Year's resolution to do with TTWD.
Ronnie
xx
Wednesday, 1 January 2014
2014
Happy New Year.
Wishing you and yours a wonderful 2014 with Health, Happiness, Prosperity and (where appropriate) lots of Spankings.
.jpg)
Couldn't make my mind up which of the pictures to use - so you got all three.
Ronnie
Click bottom of picture if you want to see this one larger:)
xx
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