What do you think?

I think she must be going for her caning appointment because she wouldn't be sitting still if she'd been.

I love black and white spanking photos, especially if they are spanking related.

Please let me know if the photo is yours.

Have a fun weekend.

Ronnie

xx

Good things come to those who wait.

No, I didn't get the spanking I was planning on the weekend. We had a call Saturday morning asking if we could have the grandchildren overnight (won't go into why) so what could we say, yes of course. Saturday overnight turned into Sunday late afternoon before they were collected so no spanking for Ronnie.

As I said, "Good things come to those who wait", and I know I wont have to wait long, because P said he needs a word with me:)

Ronnie
xx

Please let me know if the picture is yours.

A Smile for Today

 

The good friends make the best lovers according to the French

And regular discipline keeps the friends good.

Stay safe.

Ronnie
xx

Picture from Au Fil des Jours

Unusual Spanking Positions

Do you have favourite spanking position?

Still my favourite is the OTK position

If I'm to have the cane P likes me lying over pillows on the bed. 

What's your favourite spanking position?

Have a good week.

Ronnie

xx

Please let me know if any of the pictures are yours.

Did you ever get the Cane?

I haven't had the time to write as last weekend was busy, it was our Granddaughter's first birthday (where did that year go?) and then we were away for a few day. So here is a story I like (some might have read it before) from malespank.

......"So what were you like then as a schoolboy?" She asked in a desultory fashion. I had a terrible feeling that I was boring her despite trying to appear interesting. I could hardly answer that I was in all probability even duller than I must appear now, so I did the obvious thing, I lied.

"Oh I was a bit of a rebel actually. You know always in trouble!"

She gazed at me, her dark eyelashes fluttering, her large baby blue eyes wide open as if attempting to see me in a new light. Whether she believed me or not I am not quite sure but at least she had stopped yawning and was now looking thoughtful. As we were leaving the car she asked.

"Did you ever get the cane then?"

That question I admit rather stopped me in my tracks. To be honest I had a thing about being caned and partly regretted that I had escaped that particular punishment. Boys were frequently caned but not boys like myself who slavishly followed all the school rules. In fact my behavior was so exemplary I was never punished at all. My reputation, if I possessed such a thing, was as a blindly obedient boy who did exactly as he was told. Nevertheless I had got the bit between my teeth and was busy rewriting my own legend.

"Oh yes, I should say so. We had this form mistress, Miss Taylor. She was only a young woman but dreadfully strict. I must have had six of the best from her at least a dozen times!"

I shrugged my shoulders and affected an air of heroic fortitude. Miss Taylor indeed had a reputation for strictness, she frequently sent to the Head with a hand written note and I'd once witnessed her cane two boys in my class for bullying. The incident lingered still in my memory. I was almost envious of the bullies as I was in the stock room next door doing my good deed for the day and returning some text books when the punishment took place. Each boy received four strokes of the cane. The first boy took his punishment in silence, all you could hear was the cane falling on tightly stretched trouser seat. However, the second boy was crying even before it started and after each stroke of the cane let out a desperate howl of pain. Not that the boy's tearful pleading stopped Miss Taylor carrying out the punishment. Susan had a most disconcerting way of staring, she was now gazing at me as if I was suddenly a person of great interest.

"Really, how awful. It sounds like something Charles Dickens would write about! They never had anything like that at the girls school I went to!" She said almost enviously. Yes, she was definitely seeing me in a new light. In fact I was seeing myself in a new light and feverishly hoping we weren't going to meet anyone who remembered me as I really was. I pointed out the cricket pitch and the nets which still hadn't been taken down despite the term ending. Then the swimming pool, which was always freezing cold I remember. However it seemed Susan was much more interested in the disciplinary practices of the school.

"Did it hurt dreadfully when you were caned?" She enquired. As we were walking she inserted her hand in mine which was rather a nice surprise.

"Well some chaps used to make a fuss but I just used to grin and bear it! No it never really bothered me being caned. Just an occupational hazard of being a bit of a rascal I suppose! You know how it is, you do the crime you accept the punishment!"

This was a bit rich since the one thing I have always been incapable of is suffering in silence. She was now looking at me with something like hero worship in those large blue eyes. Unless I was very much mistaken, Susan had more than a passing interest in corporal punishment herself. Well we certainly now had something in common at least.

We were standing in the shadow of the schools main entrance but I didn't want to risk going in so I was quietly attempting to lead Susan back to the car.

"Shall we go inside? Aren't you curious to see if it has changed at all?" She asked. I was just about to say no, not in the least, let's go back to the car, when an attractive well dressed woman seemed to appear from nowhere. It was Miss Taylor! I could feel the colour draining from my face.

"Are you aware that this is private property and you are trespassing?" She asked with intimidating politeness. Her face was tired but still unquestionably, undeniably beautiful. Obviously she didn't recognise me, after all it was six years since we had last seen each other. I don't suppose quiet well behaved boys are all that memorable anyway.

"I am terribly sorry we are just going," I said. Stress had made my voice rise an octave. I lurched towards the car still clutching Susan's hand. Glancing at Miss Taylor over her shoulder she said,

"James used to go to this school many years ago!"

"Come here!" She commanded. Her voice still had the ability to freeze the very marrow in my bones. I turned I was still hoping to make it back to the car before she recognised me. Suddenly a smile of recognition illuminated her severely attractive features.

"Oh yes, I do believe it's James Anthony Mortimer!" She said brightly. Inwardly I groaned, the only thing to do now was make sure our chat was as brief as possible. The last thing I wanted was a trip down memory lane.

"Miss Taylor," I said, "allow me to introduce a friend of mine, Susan Catesby! We were just passing but we really must be getting back now!" I glanced at my watch and smiling nervously said.

"My goodness, is that the time?" I started edging back towards the car park. Susan had a bewildered look on her face as if she couldn't understand my sudden hurry. If only I had been truthful with Susan. Better to have been a bore than a teller of tall tales.

"Nonsense, of course you have time to come to my study both of you and enjoy a cup of tea!"

So I really didn't have much choice in the matter. Fate had conspired against me and before I knew it, there I was, perched on the edge of my seat, waiting to be exposed as a fraud, a young windbag, a one time teachers pet! The blow was not long in coming. Susan sitting on the sofa next to our host, accepting her cup of pale fragrant tea said enthusiastically,

"James, was just telling me how he was always in trouble at school!"

Miss Taylor's eyes seemed to widen perceptibly. A smile hovered for a brief moment on her soft red lips.

"Really!" She said. She sipped her tea smiling it seemed at my discomfiture, in a moment I should be revealed in my true colours. Susan, however was not finished yet.

"And you gave him six of the best a dozen times!" She laughed, as if sharing an amusing joke.

Miss Taylor's eyes seemed for a moment to twinkle with merriment.

"I don't think that is true!" She said, sternly. That's it, I thought, put me quickly out of my misery. I waited for the fatal blow to fall.

"No, I am sure I caned him much more than a dozen times and you know the funny thing was!"

Susan, glanced at me in admiration. I heaved a huge sigh of relief as Miss Taylor continued.

"That he never seemed to really feel it!"

I grinned weakly and wished desperately that someone would change the subject or the ground would quickly open and swallow me up. Miss Taylor was now beaming at me as if I was her favourite little rascal.

"Do you know I never did cane you for putting that mouse in my desk on the last day of term!"

Susan clapped her hands in admiration, laughing as if it was the most amusing practical joke. Of course it wasn't me, everyone knew that it was Edwards, I am sure Miss Taylor knew it was Edwards. Her sources of information I seem to remember were always impeccable. I could hardly spill the beans though, so I grinned weakly and played the part of the unrepentant rascal. I wished fervently the tea wasn't quite so hot.

"Oh he was a naughty boy wasn't he! The funny thing is you would never guess it, to look at him, I mean!" laughed Susan. Her face was looking bright and cheerful for possibly the first time that day.

"How very perceptive of you Miss Catesby! This young girl is a shrewd judge of character I can see. You are very fortunate to have her as a friend James!" Purred Miss Taylor. Her eyes seemed to be shining with mischief. She continued, her smile quite terrifying.

"Yes, I think we can safely say, Master Mortimer has hidden depths!"

"I bet your happy Miss Taylor hasn't got a cane in her desk now!" Chuckled Susan, as she sipped daintily at her tea. I glanced at Miss Taylor a little nervously, who was to say what she had in her desk. I wasn't at all sure I liked the way this conversation was heading.

Miss Taylor, crossed her slender legs on the settee and laughed,

"James would know of course that the cane was never kept in my desk!" Miss Taylor was obviously enjoying herself greatly.

"Of course I remember!" I said, nervously. For a brief moment there was an uncomfortable silence before Miss Taylor said brightly.

"Oh yes! I used to keep it in that large cupboard by the bookshelf as you will no doubt recall James! In fact it's still there now, although I haven't had reason to use it for a week or two!" Desperately I blew on the tea, the quicker we were on the road again the happier I would be.

"I don't suppose it would be possible to see it?" Asked Susan in a thrilling voice.

"Oh indeed. Why not. I am sure it will bring back many painful memories for James though!" Miss Taylor showed no sign of moving.

"James would you be a dear and fetch the cane!" As I put my tea cup down my hand shook, and somewhat nervously I walked over to the large cupboard, Miss Taylor smiled at Susan who laughed. I opened the cupboard door which creaked noisily. In amongst the piles of text books and rolled up maps I could see a thin yellow cane. I picked it up. It felt strangely light in my hand, almost as if it weighed nothing at all.

"Painful memories!" I heard Susan titter. I could feel my cheeks beginning to blush as I handed it to the still seated Miss Taylor. She looked up to me with those merciless bright blue eyes and said jokingly, whilst tapping the cane against her palm.

"It was you that put that mouse in my desk on the last day of term, wasn't it?"

Susan laughed, noisily. A look of horrified delight on her pretty face. I was temporarily deprived of the power of speech and stood there foolishly in front of the two woman seated on the sofa.

"Why don't you sit down James. You look uncomfortable standing there!" Said Miss Taylor, smiling gently and winking at Susan who responded with another peal of laughter. I could feel my cheeks burning as I sat down. One of the disadvantages of being fair skinned is people can easily tell when you are embarrassed.

"For a moment there, I thought you were going to cane him for putting that mouse in your desk!"

Giggled Susan, looking rather pink herself. Miss Taylor and Susan seemed to be getting on so well I seemed almost superfluous.

"Why, would you like me to?" Asked Miss Taylor, She had stopped laughing and then Susan stopped laughing too. Suddenly there was complete silence in the room.

"It might be amusing, I mean just for fun!" She said after a seemingly endless pause. Susan looked even paler than usual as she sat there in a state of nervous anticipation. Miss Taylor turned to me, smirking like a cat that had swallowed the canary. She stood up to her full height and swished the cane menacingly through the air.

"It's only a bit of fun, James! So I mean why not, after all it would be nothing new to such a naughty boy as yourself!" There was that twinkle in here eye again.

She knew I had little choice but to play along. The butterflies in my stomach certainly seemed to be working overtime as I stood up from the chair. Susan had her mouth hidden behind her small pale hand as if she might scream in equal amounts horror and delight at any given moment. Her blue eyes seemed larger than ever.

"Bend over the armchair will you Mortimer! I think Miss Catesby will agree with me that you will benefit greatly from six of the very best!" Said Miss Taylor sweetly. Susan sat on the very edge of her seat as if she was about to witness the changing of water into wine.

The use of my surname had unsettled me still further. Surely this was only going to be a "bit of fun" as Miss Taylor put it! I tried a cheerful smile and failed miserably. Reluctantly I walked over and slowly bent over the armchair. A few moments later I felt the cane tapping gently across the tightly stretched thin cotton of my trousers.

"The thing is when you cane a boy!" Explained Miss Taylor. "You must do so firmly!"

Whack

It felt as if a explosion had recently taken place across my buttocks. Susan was looking directly into my eyes, a rapt expression on her face, as the cane bit. I attempted a brave smile as the excruciating pain made my body arch in agony. Susan's smile grew wider with her eyes.

"Otherwise..."

Whack

I made a gulping sound. My smile by now was that of the condemned man as he draws his last breath and I am sure I did little to convince Susan I was enjoying myself. Nevertheless she smiled back reassuringly.

"..there is no point to it!"

Whack

After that one I nearly dived over the armchair. It felt like someone was holding a barbecue on my behind. I could feel my smile turning into a rictus grin. The next blow came a little quicker with a little extra zest as if Miss Taylor felt she was beating a particularly dusty carpet.

Whack

"Aaaaaah!" It was a new language I had recently invented. The language of untold agony!

Whack

It was definitely getting harder. God it was awful. I suddenly gripped my bottom with both hands and howled like some wounded animal.

"Aaaaarghh!"

" Oh dear! You have moved your hands I am afraid! That one will not count which is a pity!"

Explained Miss Taylor with infinite patience. I was about to complain when the next stroke landed and all my thoughts were suddenly concentrated in one place. Nothing else mattered other than the pain in my backside. Right then if you had told me I had won a fortune I shouldn't have cared less.

Whack

"Please no!" I begged. Miss Taylor took a step back smiling and affected not to hear. I was going to get an extra stroke whether I liked it or not. She put plenty of beef into it!

Whack

"Ah nooooooooooooooooo!!"

It felt as if my bottom had been sliced in quarters, as if the skin had been taken off. It is was all I could do not to burst into tears which were welling up in my eyes! I was still bending over, when Miss Taylor said brightly.

"You may get up now!"

She was still smiling hugely as if she had won first prize in a beauty contest. She turned to Susan whose smile was even wider than Miss Taylor's. Neither of them were offering the slightest sympathy despite my pitiful groans.

"That is how it's done! I do hope you were paying attention my dear as I am sure, if you intend to remain together for any length of time, James would benefit from an occasional good hard caning to remind him... of his schooldays!"

They both laughed as if it was the best joke they had heard in years. But the look on Susan's face as we walked back to the car, me wincing every now and again as some new sharp after-shock reminded me of the ravaged state of my bottom, told me she had taken Miss Taylor's 'joke' far too seriously. When we got in the car and started off, Susan turned to me and asked.

"Where do you suppose someone might acquire a cane like Miss Taylor's, James? I should have asked her before we left, shouldn't I. Just out of interest I mean."

I didn't answer because I didn't know, but I got the impression that Susan was planning for the long term.

A reader sent me this story. I enjoyed it so sharing with you.  Anon said he found it on one of the true experience websites but can't remember which one. So please, if it is yours, let me know so I can give credit or remove if that's your wish.

Have a fun weekend.

Ronnie
xx

A Smile for Today

Have a fun weekend.

Ronnie

xx

Bottoms Up - Simon

Welcome to another 'Bottom Up'

This week it's Simon's turn.

My favourite implement is the cane, 

I love the sound it makes both on the way to the target (usually my bare bottom) and when it lands. I love the sting and the marks it leaves and the fact that I can feel its effect for some time afterwards. 

I really dislike the wooden spoon but I couldn't say exactly why.

And for a more unusual punishment there's something about a carpet beater which I like.

Thank you Simon.  I'm with you on the cane.  We both didn't like the carpet beater.

Don't forget, if any bottoms, male or female who would like to do a review of their least (or favourite) implement (you don't have to have a blog) and why, please email me ronniesoul@gmail.com. I'll keep it secret if it's just for me but if it's OK for me to post it please say so. Pictures are always good.

See you next Wednesday for another 'Bottoms Up'.

Ronnie
xx

Let me know if any of the pictures are yours.

A Smile for Today

He'd only just started when the door bell rang. She breathed relief but he looked out the window.

 "It's your mother," he said. "Stay here, we're not done."

 "Please Barry, don't let her come upstairs." She felt panic.

He left the bedroom. She heard him open the front door and greet her mother. Their voices went into the lounge, oh god he was going to make her a cup of tea. She heard them chatting, it was amiable, normal. She wanted to join them. Thirty minutes later their voices were in the hall.

 "Well thanks for the tea, Barry, and I hope Melanie's migraine gets better soon." The front door closed.

 Minutes later Barry re-entered the bedroom.

"I like your mom, she sends her best wishes by the way. If she only knew why her naughty daughter was really upstairs..."

Ronnie

xx

Let me know if  picture is yours.

Short story

Sorry I didn't have the time to write a post for today - so I hope you wont mind a repost.

She was naughty

she got the cane

She cried

One of the shortest stories I've ever written:)

Have a fun weekend.

Ronnie

xx

Farewell 2018

Thank you to all who have visited my humble little blog this year and for all your lovely supportive comments. 

Enjoy your evening, fireworks, spankings - whatever you have planned.

See you next year.

Ronnie

xx

Picture from Spanking Theatre

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.

Ronnie.

xx

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.  

Spankings in Black and White

I enjoy looking at black and white spanking pictures.

As you know I do rather like being caned but goodness I'd hate to be in this position.

Lovely:)

Have a fun weekend.

Ronnie
xx

Let me know if any of the pictures are yours.

Oh Dear....

.....looks like he's been naughty over the holiday period.

Hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas.

Ronnie

xx

Oh, and I have a spanking blog...

My friend nearly fell over when I said it....standing in the middle of Primark Chester... it just came out so naturally, I could hardly believe it myself. The first person in my circle of family and vanilla friends who I have ever told about my blog and my interest, including my commercial one, in TTWD. And it came out so easily. So I'm outed, ruined. LOL, not really, well unless she's changed a lot in the years that have passed without us meeting.

It was a funny weekend, I wasn't going to be in Chester at all until at the last minute P asked me why not go along with him, he had a meeting on Monday morning and he said why not travel up Sunday, do a bit of shopping, stay overnight, back next day, the meeting was more of a presentation really and he said I could attend as ultimately it affected me anyway and he likes my uncomplicated observations on speakers who I've never met before. So that was the deal.

All went well, a bit tight on time but I got some shopping from the Cheshire Oaks outlet as well and a few bits from the town and a partial walk around the walls before it got too dark to see. We stayed at the hotel on the racecourse which was convenient and easy parking, our room overlooked the racecourse too so no real road traffic noise. P spanked me before we went out to get a beer and some dinner, he said it was because I'd booked the Chester Grosvenor to eat (I was kidding) and there was no way he'd pay their prices and he'd make me phone and cancel after he'd spanked me, I don't know whether he knew I was teasing or not and I don't know whether he would have relented and gone there or not but it didn't get to the point of finding out because I admitted I'd been pulling his leg, I told him just as he'd got me across his lap, I was giggling and trying to look up at his face to see if he was angry or amused. Anyway he told me he was still going to spank me and took my knickers down to make a start. It was noisy and he stopped after just a few slaps, parked me on the bed and switched the tv on, then retrieved one of my travel canes from his overnighter, resumed his position and caned me until my backside was blazing and I was wriggling and bucking like a horny eel, if eels get horny that is. I certainly was because it wasn't brutal even though it stung like hell. When he let me up he was still sitting on the bed cane in hand, and I bent down and kissed his cheek and saucily asked if he was going to finish me off later...after we'd been to the Grosvenor:) Tongue in cheek.

So we didn't eat at the Grosvenor at all we ate at Chez Jules which is just a little bistro but cosy, and had a drink later and a chat with some of the guys at the hotel who were also attending the meeting next day. The meeting itself wasn't too boring and after it P said he wanted to pop into town before we headed home, he wanted some wines from Corks Out. I went with him and then walked him to Primark where I knew they had some cheap joke Christmas sweaters which light up with LEDs (I'm going to an ugly Christmas jumper party in December). Well it was in there that we met our old friends, they live a hundred and twenty miles from Chester and were as amazed to see us as we were them. Like us they'd driven up the previous day to shop at the designer outlet and stayed overnight in a guest house. I won't go through the boring catchup stuff and some of it is unpleasant anyway because of a serious illness although you wouldn't know it from talking. But what really got to me was how easily and naturally we reacquainted after so many years apart and how easily I divulged my little secret without giving it a second thought.

I suppose it's a mark of how close we were at one point and the trust is clearly still there. We're going to meet up again soon, I'm looking forward to it. She said I'll have to tell her all about the spanking world and she can tell her friends at the bank that she has an insider on that 'Fifty Shades' stuff, I told her she was welcome to but I guessed she was joking, then I said some of her clients and senior colleagues might find it interesting too, I'd heard banking types were partial to a bit of spanking, might even be able to sell me a few canes, I could pay a small commission. My turn to joke:)

Have a fun weekend,

Ronnie
xx

Level Playing Field?

You see, I have followed the escapades of one Strict Julie over a few weeks now, not that her persuasion quite aligns with mine but she's a very energetic writer and I like her blunt and perceptive style. She has posted a series about a schoolgirl (her) getting spanked (and other things) and has included lots of images to go with it, it's pretty strong stuff and it got me wondering - what would be the situation if a man had authored it. I sent P a link on the weekend and asked him what he thought and his answer was that they'd probably have the 'old bill' knocking on their door (ie the police for those not familiar with UK cockney slang).

What's my point to all this? Well, and this is after light discussion with my nearest and dearest, my point is that perhaps us (some) women are all as sexist as we sometimes accuse men of being. I mean lusting over schoolgirls is disgusting, right? Spanking them for sexual pleasure is depraved, right? Forcing them to have sex is criminal obviously, right?....but I bet lots of men get turned on by the thought. I bet quite a few women do too. But the main point - a woman can write it and get away with it but a man could not. So the playing field is not level, maybe we should remember that sometimes.

I asked P if he'd been turned on by the schoolgirl stuff and he said don't be silly and did I want a cup of tea as he was on his way into the kitchen to make one. A minute later he popped his head round the door and said, "By the way do you still have that navy blue pleated skirt and the green and yellow striped tie lying around? Haven't seen them for ages." He was gone before I could answer. When he came back in with two mugs of tea he added, "The dark blue gym knickers are probably tucked away with them I should think."

He was smiling. So was I and I didn't bother answering, I knew exactly where they were:)

Have a fun weekend.

Ronnie

xx

Picture found at Richard Windsor's Spanking blog.

It's like this, beloved: I need to be spanked

I've been meaning to share this letter with you (had it in drafts for ages)  It's fiction and found at Taken in Hand. I think you'll enjoy it.

My dear husband,

I have something to tell you. This is possibly the most important letter I have ever written to you. OK, OK, so it is the only letter I have ever written to you—but humour me, will you? This is important.

No, I haven't been up to no good with the milkman (though that strapping young man who is his son might be difficult to resist!), and no, I don't have any (more) complaints about you, and no, I haven't gone to the Dark Side and joined a religious cult or started using Microsoft products.

I don't know whether you have noticed, but I have been a pain in the backside lately. Actually, you don't seem to have noticed. And you know what? One of the things I totally love about you is that you are so serene, unruffled, and even-tempered. I love how you never lose your calm—it makes me feel so safe and relaxed and happy. Never change!

But given your marvellous imperturbability, I have realised that I need to be more direct when making requests. Telling you in words would be a good start. You can't be expected to be a mind reader—though you so often seem to know what I'm thinking... especially the other night when you.... well anyway, where was I?

Do you remember the other day when you were lying on your front watching that that old black and white film I wanted us to see—The Vagabond King—and you thought I must either have got the wrong film or that I must have completely lost my marbles? And you know how, when you complained and wanted to watch the rugby instead, I grabbed that wooden ruler and whacked you on the bottom with it? (Yeah, like you could forget that!)

Well the good news is, I haven't turned violent, I was just trying to get a reaction out of you. You see I wanted you to get physical with me, really physical. I wanted to experience your considerable size and strength in a bit of old-fashioned wrestling roly-poly rough-and-tumble slap-and-tickle—with the emphasis on the “slap” bit.

What am I driving at?

Goodness, this is difficult! But I must do it, it's gone on too long and I want it out. I have to have it out.

You see, darling, I want you to put me over your knee (or on the bed, on the couch, or anywhere really) and—not to put too fine a point on it—give me a jolly good thrashing; and then, if you want, give me a jolly good seeing-to, as only you can. And I don't mean just a one-off: I'd like this as often as your age, inclination, health issues, work commitments, and required TV viewing, will allow.

Incidentally, when I say “thrashing”, I mean hard, using all your strength! I want to be in tears, crying and wriggling and begging you to stop, which of course you won't do. Really! (Just think, you can get an arm workout without going to the gym!) And I mean everything from spanking to whipping.

I know you wondered if I'd taken up riding when you saw that I'd bought a riding crop. And you must have thought it a bit odd that I suddenly felt the urge to buy a set of extra strong wooden spoons—obviously, it couldn't be for cooking, given my singular lack of interest in that department! And then there is the old-fashioned schoolmaster's cane that appeared on your night table and that you asked me to remove. You didn't wonder about that at all? Did you think I was going to a fancy dress or something?

And since I am coming clean here, you know how I've been behaving more and more like an irresponsible schoolgirl of late? You know—I've unaccountably started forgetting to take my mobile phone with me when I go out, I've been not getting enough sleep, and on more than one occasion I have become so engrossed in er… my er… "Internet research", that I have quite forgotten the dinner cooking in the oven and then cheeked you when you said it was a tad charred. I cheeked you on purpose, blatantly, I even burned your dinner on purpose, don't you think I'm irresponsible? I don't give a monkeys, what are you going to do about it?

The reason I have been doing all these things is that I have been wanting you to take control and take me in hand, and this was my way of attempting to communicate that to you. Spank me mercilessly, take my knickers down and cane me, reduce me to tears, deal with me, don't worry I shall love you all the more for it really I will.

Yes, I know, I know, was this letter really necessary and what's wrong with the direct approach? And how did I expect you to guess this particular interpretation of my out-of-character behaviour? I concede that it hasn't worked at all, and I feel quite silly for having done this, and more than a bit remorseful.

I am so embarrassed! I don't know why, but it has taken a lot of nerve for me to pluck up the courage to tell you all this. But now I have, might it be possible for us to talk about it? I mean do you think you could help me out with all this? Do you have any questions? Is this something you could do? Please? You don't hate me for asking?

Yours, as ever,

Etc.

[Husband reads the letter…. I look to see how he is taking it, and wonder how I am ever going to be able to introduce the idea of even more serious “discipline” to him if we can't even manage to get to grips with the relatively light-hearted rumpy pumpy contained in my letter….]

"Hey, you're smiling! Splendid! Oh how lovely! What shall we…."

"HEY! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! PUT ME DOWN! I didn't mean NOW! No No Not HERE! Oww! Oww! Owwwwww! Hey, Oh that HURT! Cut it out, no no Please NOOOOO!! You don't know your own strength! Ooh! Owww!.....

[Swoon… My hero....]

Have a good week.

Ronnie
xx

If the letter is yours, please let me know so I can give credit or remove.

A Smile for Today

I love black and white spanking pictures - especially when canes are involved:)

Ronnie

xx

Picture from Spank Art.

The REAL Reason Smart Women Love a Good Spanking

According to Your Tango, at least, which Google kindly sent me recently. The article covers all the usual stuff most of us aficionados already know plus a few twists and, apart from anything else, who minds being thought of as a 'smart woman'?

I loved their little graphic on the lead page, wonder why they left off the title for the last bottom? Surely it must be Cane.

...my own personal favourite:)

Have a good week.

Ronnie

xx

Rosemary Gone

Did I ever tell you we have a park next to our offices? I think I must have mentioned it some time or another; it's separated by a painted iron railings fence and we have about two metres of border on our side of the fence which is (was) full of shrubs and bushes. Squirrels play there, you can sit and watch them, in fact you can open the door and they come right up to the edge, P says it's therapeutic sometimes. But there's something else (or was), right outside our office a rosemary bush has provided us with beautiful aromatic flavour for our lamb dishes, chorizo, casseroles and soups right throughout Summer and Winter, even in the snow and ice it never let us down.

Last week the morons who run our office block decided it would all look nicer if the border was 'tidied up' and the fence repainted. Neither of us were at the office when it was done but I got a call from P on Friday afternoon saying the border had been totally stripped and our rosemary bush had been stolen (his word) and there was no one in reception, because of cost cutting, to complain to. I said he could hardly complain because we hadn't planted it, it just existed and we'd had the benefit of it....and so had many others because we used to give bunches of the stuff away to friends, its production was so prolific and much better than supermarkets...and of course free.

P sounded genuinely annoyed. I asked him if they'd taken it to the other side of the building or maybe put it in a skip or something, maybe he could go and recover it, bring some of it home and re-plant it. He said he'd already looked but it seemed all the foliage had been taken away. I said perhaps he could plant another one. He said maybe but it would have to be mature and he'd want some other stuff to go with it. I said I didn't think they'd like it if just the bit outside our office was verdant with herbs and bushes and the rest of the offices barren or perhaps with flowers.

Then we got down to the second part of his gripe. "No I suppose not," he said, "but I'm definitely going to complain to someone on Monday. Apart from the rosemary and our bushes, we now have full views into the park and unfortunately vise versa....and I don't want footballers, bowls players and dog walkers staring in when I have to cane your bottom over my desk, which is in direct line of sight of the door."

I was taken aback and glad we were talking by phone or he would have seen my eyes light up.

Have a fun weekend.

Ronnie
xx   

I had to remind him

It had been a week since my husband had made a promise, or warning I suppose, as per below:-

"He got off the bed and told me the only way he could deal with what I'd just done was with another sound spanking and there would be no sex for me meanwhile." 

Well he'd kept half the promise but not the other half - no sex, no bloody sex... for a week! That bit he'd kept, although it transpired not intentionally. But the other half, the sound spanking bit, hadn't been delivered at all and I wasn't a happy bunny. I know he's got a few things on his mind but that's no excuse for not remembering threats. From a girl's point of view, when a man says things like that, which excite certain feeling in those of us who appreciate a firm hand and are not averse to sex, it is frustrating.

I brought it up with P on Saturday morning. He wasn't at the office because he was tree trimming and I though it would be a good time to remind him; he's usually more relaxed when he's doing physical things and I like seeing him work up a light sweat and get dirty. I took a couple of mugs of tea outside when I could see he'd almost finished, I stood next to him and could smell the sap and see leaves and bits of conifer sticking to his arms and neck. I told him I'd help him clearing up and he put his arm round my waist and told me I was a good girl. Ooh swoon. I almost spilled my tea as I pushed my body against him in response. Then I reminded him what a bad girl I'd been last week and asked him sheepishly if that was why we hadn't had any sex lately. He thought about it for a while and then it twigged. He said he'd soon remedy that, we'd get cleared up all the quicker with my help, then he'd get showered and then he'd deal with me. I said why bother with the shower, then I gulped the rest of my tea and turned away and started raking debris into neat piles, making sure I bent and stretched a lot (I must have had the most awkward raking technique!)

Anyway we got finished and P was putting the tools away in the shed. I went in and threw my gloves onto the bench, one of them fell down the back and I cursed but turned to walk out the door. P looked round, "Well somebody's got to pick it up," he said. I swivelled back and stretched over the bench, I could see the glove had landed on a compost bag the other side. Then I felt P's hands on my hips and froze, long enough for him to reach round and unzip me and wrench my jeans down to my thighs. I struggled a bit to make it harder for him and said "No P, not in here, please." I thought he was going to spank me but then he pulled my knickers aside and I felt his manhood between my cheeks against my bottom hole and then down against my slit. I wanted to turn round and rip the buttons off his shirt, taste the sweat and bits of foliage on him but he wouldn't let me, his cock was urgent, its slippery head pushed insistently and I opened and felt my own dew gush and then he was fucking me and I screamed and he put his hand around my mouth to keep the noise down. We stopped, panting, getting our breath back. "That's the sex sorted out then," said my dearest. "Now we just need to deal with the spanking."  He'd obviously remembered everything and decided to make good.

"Oh it's ok P the spanking can wait for another time, really." The order of events was not to my liking. "No time like the present," he said.

We keep garden canes in the shed and he selected one. I made to get up but he ordered me sharply to remain just where I was. I told him I needed a tissue, I'd got his stuff running off the gusset of my knickers, which had sprung half back where they belonged, and down my thighs. He said that wouldn't make any difference, he wasn't going to cane my thighs. Then he stood to my left and caned me. Oh my goodness doesn't the cane feel so much worse on the other side of orgasm. Luckily P knew it well enough and only intended it as a gesture to say he'd kept his promise. It still stung though but when he let me up I stretched up and kissed him; I didn't remind him that a 'sound' spanking had been threatened, didn't want to push my luck.

We showered together, he said it was to save water but I knew it wasn't, his cock was hard again. Tree cutting must be good for him:)

Have a fun weekend.

Ronnie

xx