Dragons really do breathe fire

Hope you are well. Sorry haven't been around. We were away and I've been looking after newest grandchild.

This happened a few weekends ago.

I know because I felt it on the weekend and it wasn't even an angry dragon, it was a 'friendly' one.

Don't worry I'm not going mad or hallucinating or having terrible dreams, just getting my bottom caned (a kink which has caused me considerable pain but considerable joy over more than a couple of decades, for those who don't know me) by my husband who was thoughtfully trying to give me some business ideas or so he said.

You see there is a type of cane known as dragon cane, which I've often seen advertised and usually at very high prices, which is apparently sought after by those in the know or/and with deep pockets. It hurts more than normal canes not by being longer or thicker but by being denser yet keeping all the qualities that make canes yummy (for me anyway), the swish flex and sting factors.

So P announced on Saturday that he'd got a surprise for me but he wouldn't give it me until Sunday when we had a bit more time. He wouldn't tell me what it was either. Then come Sunday morning he told me that he'd been listening to my pleas, some overt others less so, for a long time about getting more spankings and he'd decided to give me a very special spanking and possibly a business idea too. He told me this earlyish in the day to give me time to absorb what was going to happen and adjust my corrupt mind appropriately to cope with it and even look forward to it. He told me he'd acquired a dragon cane and would look forward to putting it through its paces in the afternoon if I was up for it. I was, fool that I am.

I don't know quite what possessed him to do it. I did remember a note about a package being 'undeliverable' to our house about a week ago and P saying he'd go and collect it from the sorting office not wanting me to go with him, which struck me as unusual because he hates queues and normally delegates queuing to me. He wouldn't be drawn on why he was doing it he just said it was for my good and asked me if he'd mis-heard or read what I'd been saying for ages about needing more spankings, was it true or not? My bottom actually tingled and I had to move in my seat as I said the words, 'Yes P it was true'.

So around 3 o'clock he told me to go upstairs, put on the thinnest leggings I'd got and go to the office, he'd join me there. He patted my bottom as I squeezed past him and I felt a hot flush as his eyes followed my bum up the stairs. I heard the garage door close as I was changing so guessed he'd kept his new toy in there. He was already in the office when I entered, cane in hand. I blushed as he offered it to me to feel, pointing out the sheen on the husk and lack of nodes or bends, he said he'd practised with it in the garage (Ha! He who'd given so many canings!) and judged it to be of excellent quality. He held out his hand for me to return it and told me to bend over the desk which he'd completely cleared save for a handy pack of tissues in the far corner which he's never done before and made me a bit nervous.

Long story short, he caned me, six strokes evenly spaced across the plumpest ten to fifteen centimetres of my bottom which responded at first saucily by pushing upwards but then squirming and hugging into the desk edge accompanied by outraged vocals from its owner. P stopped at six and told to keep my bottom up away from the desk for my next six which would be harder, and not to wiggle because it affected his aim. I protested and made to push up but he coaxed me back and soothed my shoulders before gently but firmly moulding my lower back to how he wanted it.

"It would be a shame to stop now we've got this far, don't you think?" He asked. I uttered something between a squeal and a sob but arched my back as his hand released; I knew the effect it had on my bottom and I knew the effect it would have on my husband. I sensed him reposition himself and then felt the first of the second salvo of strikes and it made me scream. Shush shush, I heard him say just before the next stroke landed right across my sit-spots and made me grip the desk edge with white knuckles as I uuurrrrrghhhh'd my horror. The third stroke landed somewhere I can't say exactly where because my whole backside felt like it was on fire and more pain kept coming in waves and made me stomp my feet which didn't make it go away at all but the loud and urgent drumming got P's attention. I felt his hand across my waist and he warned me, "No more of this nonsense, you're doing very well but you've got another three to go so stop this or I'll add another six." Then he stood back and gave me the last three in quick succession, faster than I could catch my breath and god knows what I was blubbering or what my poor bottom cheeks must have looked like wobbling frantically as the cane did its work and my feet continued to stomp from side to side.

Then it stopped and there was silence except for P's breathing and my, what I realised was, sobs, as extra waves of pain continued to taunt my bottom and I was scared to move in case they got worse. P loosened my finger grips on the desk and raised me up gently.

"That's it, good girl, you've had a good caning and been very brave," he said as he turned me round and nuzzled me into his shoulder. He started talking with me calmly, telling me how well the cane had behaved and how accurate it was and how with the same force he would normally apply to a caning it delivered far better results. Better, I thought! That depends which side of the cane you're on!

After ten minutes we went downstairs, I didn't feel horny, my bottom was still on fire, P said he'd look at it later. I sat cautiously on the sofa and P made us tea, when he came back he told me he thought I should consider selling the 'dragons' he thought there was a market for them. I asked him what he was going to do with the one he'd just used.

"Keep it of course," he said, "for next time, when you've been a genuinely naughty girl or when you've had that 'need to be spanked' feeling building up again and need me to help."

Hmm. I thought immediately I might not be getting that feeling so often but, by the evening, with the pain just twinges when I moved and the background more of a dull glow, I was already replaying the experience and getting little twinges of a different kind:)

Stay safe.

Have a good week.

Ronnie
xx

The Department Store

No spankings to report. Well I have been spanked a couple of times this week but not share worthy:)  so here's a little fantasy fiction from the past that you may remember.

The department store was one of the traditional type you don't see many nowadays, old but well kept building, no fluorescent sales posters, no weasel '(up to) 50% OFF' lures, sensible modest window displays, its only apparent self promotion was a framed plaque fixed to the wall by the entrance door boasting Johnson & Johnson had a department for absolutely everything, and they'd proudly provided discerning service and quality since 1810.

''Everything?'' I ask, back home. ''Everything.'' the man on the phone says, so I resolve to put them to the test and turn up first thing next morning asking for the 'discipline dept'..............to my surprise the assistant behind the customer services desk doesn't bat an eyelid and takes me to an elevator where she whispers something to a uniformed attendant, he stands aside courteously to let me in, the elevator stops two levels down and the uniformed man steps out indicating I should follow. ''But this is fabrics and household furniture,'' I politely point out, good stuff too from the look of it, arranged in small sections either side of a corridor walkway, each with matching or complementary displays. The man pauses, smiles politely and extends his hand in the direction of the corridor which seems to end at a tapestried wall. ''Please,'' he says. I follow.

I know quality, my eyes, ears and nose are filled with it. Silent footsteps on lush Wilton, unobtrusive classical music, leather, oak, silk, brass, I like it. Well dressed assistants, I can only see two, no customers so far but then I'm early. We get to the tapestry and the uniformed man stops, to the right appears to be more floor space and more displays, I think I see a couple of customers talking with an assistant along there. To the left is a conventional corridor with doors off each side, the man tells me I need the third door on the right, I should go right in, Mr Bellamy will be with me shortly.

The door leads into a panelled room, more thick carpet, portraits along the facing wall, I recognise some as noteworthiness of old, they all look austere. There's a large dark wood table in the centre, top inlaid with leather, matching chairs, some at the table and some along the wall to the right, it must seat a dozen easily. Several cabinets line the opposite wall, all closed, there's also a door, it's closed too.

No Mr Bellamy, no goods for browsing. I'm about to leave when the door opens, startling me slightly, ''Ah good morning madam, I'm so sorry to have kept you, I'm Mr Bellamy.'' He proffers his hand which I take, it seems right, he's well dressed, distinguished looking, his hand is firm and he's well spoken with a friendly yet professional demeanour. ''We don't have nearly as many clients for this department nowadays,'' he explains, ''not since corporal discipline was banned from the state education system, even the best private schools reluctantly complied eventually, at least ostensibly, and then all the fuss we read in the press about parental smacking and what's right and wrong, what's permissible and not, you know what I mean,'' he said. I detected genuine sadness in his voice, the passing of an era and all that, and I nodded understandingly.
Still, we do have our regular clients, city folk, business types, gentlemen of the land etc who still respect the old values, and of course we welcome new clients like yourself, modern thinking independent women who are interested less in political correctness than personal satisfaction.''

He smiled warmly, I felt flattered.

''So, er, where are the, ahem, sale items. Mr Bellamy?'' I ventured.

''Of course, how remiss of me,'' he said taking a bunch of keys from his pocket and moving towards the cabinets, ''Please.''

He opened them from left to right and I followed him, only as he progressed from one cabinet to the next, I stalled at the first. Transfixed. Eyes wide, heart pounding. The cabinet was lined with canes.

hanging neatly from hooks, each had a small hand written note fastened under its hook detailing it's length, thickness, origin, material, 'used' or 'unused' and so on. There were crooked handles, straight handles, leather bound, cord bound. long, short, extra flexible, junior, senior, I had never realised there were so many options. Mr Bellamy must have noticed me, perhaps he thought I was feeling ill. ''Madam?'' He said, indicating the other cabinets he'd opened for my inspection. ''Can I get you a class of water, or perhaps a coffee?'' I told him a glass of water would be appreciated and he told me he'd be a few minutes, leaving me to peruse his treasures at my leisure.

I browsed from cabinet to cabinet, it was astonishing, there were tawses, straps, paddles, rulers, books to record punishments in,

books about historical punishment, books explaining how to administer punishment, all in the cabinets to the left of the door. The cabinets to the right of the door contained soft suede floggers, riding crops, whips, handcuffs, blindfolds etc, sort of Ann Summers but in quality. It seemed stock to the left was for the traditionalists and stock to the right was for fun couples seeking added excitement. I was drawn to the left, it had the 'properness' of time, it had authority, it was compelling.

Mr Bellamy returned with my water and asked me if I'd seen anything which suited my requirements. I told him I preferred the cabinets to the left of the door and asked him if he had any more displays, perhaps through the as yet unopened door. No displays in that room, he said, it was bare all but its thick carpet, a single large desk and its heavy velvet drapes. I asked him if that was his office then, and he smiled and told me not at all, the room used to get quite frequent use from clients wishing to test items prior to purchasing, hence the heavy fabrics which provide wonderful sound insulation. I felt the blood rush to my cheeks. It still got used, he assured me, just not as often.

I returned to the cabinets to break eye contact with Mr Bellamy and hide my excited embarrassment. I asked him where the prices were and if, say, I made a purchase of for instance a couple of long canes, how would I be able to carry them from the store without raising attention. He explained if I lifted the note against each item the price was underneath, and that long implements were packed discreetly in suitable plain boxes or could even be delivered for a small charge.

I took several more minutes and narrowed my initial interest down to five canes, a long double split tawse and four straps but I didn't want to buy all of them, I was dithering and Mr Bellamy sensed my dilemma. ''Perhaps madam would care to test the items to help her decide,'' he said matter-of-factly. ''But I don't have anyone with me, Mr Bellamy,'' I said, my heart thumping so hard I thought it must be audible. ''Madam,'' said Mr Bellamy, ''I believe my experience, after almost twenty-five years having helped many a lady and gentleman make the right choice, is at your service.'' With that his hand reach for his keys and the testing room door was opened.

If I was going to bolt now was the time, but I didn't and five minutes later I was bending over the large desk bawling my eyes out as Mr. Bellamy helped me evaluate my choices.

A sore bottomed but very well satisfied customer left Johnson & Johnson later that morning. I'd chosen to have my choices delivered, Mr Bellamy had said he'd do it personally.

Hope everyone is well and staying safe.

Try and have a fun weekend.

Ronnie
xx

Social Distancing

I need to order some longer lengths.

Stay home and stay safe.

Have a good week.

Ronnie

xx

Picture found at Spankedhortic.

Hit the road, Jack

It was the song, it was also what my husband said earlier this week after we both met Jack for the first time. P didn't like him, I did, which was probably why P didn't. He didn't say it to Jack's face, he wouldn't be that rude, he said it after he'd left, with a few canes I might add. Anyway, it prompted him to put Jack's link back onto my blog for me, which I did ask him to do weeks ago but he didn't get round to it and I didn't like to nag him.

So it's back on and I've also put a link to Ronnie's Caning Tips which a few people asked me about recently as the old link wasn't working for some reason. So there you are, get caning!

Oh and one more thing, if you do fancy trying the sting of the cane you can get a discount from Jack's little Etsy shop by inserting the code RONNIE20 into the voucher slot before you pay and it will knock 20% off the price. It's valid to the end of August so you can get or give a hot summer caning on the cheap:)

Have a fun weekend.

Ronnie
xx

A cane shortage

So for some reason there is a shortage of kooboo cane of a certain size. I'm not saying there is less being grown but the amount arriving in the UK, or at least in the sizes I need for my little business, seems to have virtually dried up. One importer told me the shipping rules in Indonesia, where ours come from, had changed and they now had to be routed through China which causes a delay and, apparently, changes in the way they are sorted.

Length isn't the problem, it's diameter that's missing. The most purchased diameters, 8mm and 9mm, haven't been available since before Christmas and I'm almost out. I've found a supplier in Holland but it will be a couple of weeks before we get them and then they have to be cut and shaped. I told P about it and he asked me if other vendors were taking certain sizes off sale and in fact some are. He said it was an opportunity so double up on my order with Holland and start wholesaling. Haha everything is so simple to my husband.

I wondered why I'd been getting a big increase in overseas orders, I mentioned it on here, from mid January onwards and now I think I know the reason there must be shortages in other countries. Well I'm not as bold as P so I won't be ramping up my order too much but I would hate to think bottoms across the globe were missing out on the attentions they need from time to time:)
 

Have a good week.

 

Ronnie

xx

No such thing as a Free Lunch

Well that's what they say. But if you're a dominatrix and a Wetherspoon customer, there can be according to an article in The Sun.
The article is a couple of weeks old but I only saw it recently and I thought it was funny, especially as I met with fellow bloggers at a Wetherspoons pub in London, we had lunch but not for free. For non-UK readers, Wetherspoons is a national pub chain, I think one of the biggest in the UK, they serve food and also have accommodation at some of their places. You won't find them in a Michelin guide but they're nonetheless popular and successful.

It seems 'financial dominatrixes' (no, I'd never heard of them either) have taken to using them because they have an App, through which you can order and pay for your food and drinks, you enter your table number and staff serve you at your table. The staff don't know who's ordering and paying and I don't suppose they care, so these enterprising 'financial dominatrixes' are making their clients download the app and pay for them to eat and drink in their local Wetherspoons pub. The client might be, say, in Edinburgh and the pub hundreds of miles away in London but that doesn't matter. The 'dom' goes in for a slap-up meal and the client gets billed for it. Hilarious! And much less strenuous than having to whip them and all that stuff.

We've got a Wetherspoons place in our local town, I've been in there occasionally because it's close to an Italian restaurant we use sometimes and P likes a pint before eating. I shall be looking out for single women with tables loaded with food and drink if or when we go there again. Perhaps I could leave them a card and sell them some canes:)

Have a fun weekend.

Ronnie
xx

Headmaster Canes

I don't know why but Headmasters' Canes are flying. Metaphorically of course, well maybe in practice in some cases too. But I'm referring to requests for them really, I'd say they are making up about seventy percent of my cane sales at the moment and that is a complete reversal of this same time last year. It's curious because it is, in my opinion, and
that of my husband which carries a weight of experience, the most difficult to use well out of all canes because of the shaped handle. Straights are much easier.

So what is the attraction? I wish I knew, perhaps it is the image space they hold in the minds of many people of 'le vice anglais', long ago outlawed symbol of authority in British schools, public schools in particular. 

I am sending quite a few to Italy, France and the Scandinavian countries on a regular basis and most recently to Brazil.

I wish I could get some stories back from people who buy them, I would really really love to know how they are used, in what circumstances and why. I mean I do know a few because some of my customers make no secret of the fact that they use them professionally and some of them buy for their clients too, which is quite nice. But the diversity of buyers, from hotels in the south to recently a restaurant in Scotland and a few weeks ago an educational establishment in Italy, as well as private households all over the place. I wonder if I could devise a system whereby customers could send me a paragraph or two on their uses in return for which I'd give a discount on future purchases. Always respecting anonymity of course.

I shall mention it to P, he's quick thinking on that sort of thing, probably see some drawbacks too.

It would point his mind in the direction of canes too, it's been a while since he's employed one against my bottom.

Have a good week.

Ronnie
xx 

Bridge of Spies

Well that was how it felt to me before I made the exchange. A handover really, not an exchange because the other party had already completed their side of the deal (paying) and all I had to do was pass an unmarked package across. It was ridiculous that I should be nervous about it but I was and actually nearly called it off but P persuaded me not to and apologised for winding me up.

All I was doing was delivering some of my implements to a customer who'd asked if they could collect from me instead of waiting for the delivery service. He explained he lives in the same county and I could see from his address that he was not far from our local town, which I visit several times a week, so I agreed and we set a time and place which was a large store with easy parking.

Now all that seems straightforward. But then my husband got wind of it and started pulling my leg about secrecy and identity, and should I wear a red carnation or something like they do in old spy movies, or leave the package next to a designated waste bin etc etc. I told him to shut up and stop being silly. Then the BBC showed some clips from an investigative programme they'd done, where journalists posed as purchasers to expose some dodgy number plate sellers, catching them on camera and broadcasting it. P said what about if they're looking into the kinky sex industry, exposing participants, looking to ask questions on camera, what would I do then? I told him not to be so ridiculous. Then he said better make sure there's nobody hanging around with cameras before you approach. I knew it was stupid and highly unlikely and there's nothing illegal in what I do anyway but....the publicity I would never live down.

So the morning of the 'exchange' I was nervous and P could see it. He told me not to stress out, it was just a bit of fun and there was nothing at all wrong with what I was doing. He even offered to deliver for me but I wouldn't let him so he said he'd at least come into town with me so he'd be nearby. We were early and I had to visit a card shop so I did that first, P went off on his own. When I left the card shop and made my way over to the store I was still nervous, then my phone rang. It was P, he'd spotted my customer exactly where we'd agreed to meet, perfectly normal looking, nobody else hanging around, no problem. I hadn't expected that and it relieved me, I entered the store and spotted my customer right away, he also spotted me because of the package I was carrying and we both smiled, he took possession, thanked me and was off. My phone went again, it was P, he was across the other side of the store, he'd been watching. He was at my side before I'd put my phone away and we walked back to the car.

"You didn't tell me you were going to do that," I said.

"You didn't think I was going to let you expose yourself to some stranger on your own, did you?" And he patted my bum.

"Bastard," I said. "Nice one though but I wish you hadn't wound me up. I think I'll stick with Royal Mail in future." 

Have a fun weekend.

Ronnie

xx

What a palaver

In out, in out, shake it all about....that's how it feels and it's Jack's fault. You see I've got this deal with Jack, he's selling some of my canes and some of his own on Etsy. Well he might be, we'll see how it goes. But what a fuss, first he's OK to call them Ronnie's canes then it's SimplyCaning, now it's Jacks Canes. I took my link down last week but now it's up again, he's a nice guy but talk about indecisive. I told him I was going to make a little post about him, give him a verbal spanking (yes I actually joked that) and he said it was okay.

 

I'm also negotiating with an Indian gentlemen about importing leather floggers and paddles but goodness me it's slow going, I'm still awaiting samples from nearly two weeks ago. He assures me they've been sent, I hope a neighbour hasn't signed for them. If they haven't arrived by mid week he'll re-send, he doesn't sound too happy about it as he's already supplying to the UK and doesn't really see why I should want samples first but there's no way I would buy without seeing and touching, and yes of course a little practical demonstration for which I shall require my husband's assistance.

 

Hard work selling spanking implements, handbags and the like are a lot easier, I think I need a holiday:)

Have a good week.

 

Ronnie

xx 

 

My canes are going travelling

A couple of my headmaster canes are going to be used but not quite the end use I had in mind for them.

They are going to be shown in a mobile memorabilia exhibition as from next week.

I don't know the name of the exhibition and I didn't ask, but that's what I was told when the gentleman ordering them contacted me and asked if I could pass on his cell phone number to the delivery man so that if he was in some part of his premises where he couldn't hear the door chime when the package arrived, they could call him and tell him they were waiting outside his door.

Now I'm a very obliging person and would do anything to help a customer out but I really can't imagine Royal Mail having such a facility so I told him I doubted it would be possible unless he wanted to pay for a specialised courier service. Then he told me when he needed them for, which was seven days forward, and I assured him it was 95% certain they would arrive within two and, if they didn't I would re-send at my own risk. So we agreed on that and they have gone and I've heard nothing since so I guess all is well.

When I told P, just out of interest, what had happened he said, "You must be losing your eye for business...I would have asked him more about his mobile exhibition and, if I liked what I heard, offered to supply them gratis...as long as they each carried a nice big label Canes kindly supplied by Ronnie etc etc."

I didn't even think of that.

Have a fun weekend.

Ronnie

xx   

Ouch Ouch and Triple Ouch

Made me smile when I saw this picture of the 'triple stinger', as I've dubbed it, is a new line I'm selling. Alec suggested it to me ages ago but I said no at the time, then changed my mind recently. Anyway he made me a few so I'll see how they go. Unfortunately Alec won't be supplying me for much longer, he's already extended his exit longer than he intended, it must be my personal charm:)

Ronnie

xx

Fact funnier than fiction

I don't hide the fact that I have a predilection for canes, nor do I push it overtly even though my interest is commercial as well as personal. I try to keep my little blog, which I enjoy, neutral as regards commercial interests but there are some funny stories, or I suppose sometimes circumstances which come to light might be more accurate, which come about from my commercial endeavours. I can't divulge a lot of the stuff I get to know about, I wouldn't anyway, and I would never compromise a customer's identity just as I trust they would likewise respect mine.

I think I've mentioned before that I have supplied implements to some names which are in the public domain. Well I can also say my products have been used on stage in theatre, I can't name the theatre but they gave me repeat orders because someone in the company kept misappropriating the 'props'. True. There are now several hospitality outlets one in the north and more than one in the south of England where certain of my implements help to maintain discipline:) Then there are professionals (by which I mean doms and dommes) who I'm delighted to say transact with me and I love getting snippets of feedback, from some not at all but from others quite a bit.

I've just got quite chatty, after a bumpy start, with a domme, she is Eastern European but working in the southern counties. She bought a few items from me some weeks ago, I was delighted and thanked her. A week later problems came to light, she had various complaints but her email sounded harsher than it really was because of her use of English. Anyway her main problem was that one of the canes had broken, she used the word split. I told her I had never heard of that happening to any of my canes before and I was sorry to hear it and could she please send me a picture of it and did she want a refund or a replacement. She replied 'what for do you want pictures, I have my business, I want it replaced with quality guarantee, if you can't guarantee I have money returned.' I thought she was aggressive and explained I needed the picture to understand how the break had occurred, in case there was a weakness but I would send a replacement anyway. When she came back to me she told me how it had happened, she had been using it 'vigorously and enthusiastically on a client and it just snapped.' I told her that was terrible and she said yes it was terrible for her client because he had been disappointed, she had 'shut him up no problem' but she could not afford to 'get known for unreliability'. I absolutely agreed and assured her my interests were fully in line with hers and told her I would really appreciate her comments - good or bad - on the other items she'd bought. I didn't hear from her for several days, when she did come back she was great, very chatty, her new cane had arrived and 'was good cane' and she gave me a run down on the other stuff she'd bought plus an order for some more items. We are staying in touch.

More recently an Italian bought a traditional schoolmaster type cane from me, I sent it to Italy and he received it a few days later and gave some nice feedback saying he had some friends who might like one. I thought lovely to get the feedback but that would be it. Not at all, last week I sent two headmaster canes to different addresses in Italy. Wonderful! It's not just the 'English vice' as it's called then. 

Have a good week.

Ronnie

xx           

I like leather

I mean I sell the stuff so of course I do. But I like it for other reasons too, I like its smell, its tactile qualities, its durability, the way it crinkles and takes on character, and I like it being used on me too although that hasn't happened much of late. Leatherthorn comes out from time to time and an old black belt which my husband adapted years ago still gets an occasional airing.

I like wood too, and kooboo naturally. Perhaps because they are all natural products, I'm not sure. I wonder, if I were blindfolded and spanked with a similar size weight and shape product, I would find it so appealing. Would I be able to tell the difference? How much of it is in the mind, I mean let's say P hooded me (he doesn't and never has) and gave me six of the best for being a naughty girl and then, when the hood was removed, I found him standing there holding a bright red delrin cane in his hand. I would be horrified of course but would it be my brain or my bottom guiding my emotions? Just me idly wondering and looking for a way to revisit the prospect of my introduction to the razor strop:)

It still hasn't happened. I thought it might last weekend but it didn't. It hangs from a brass hook next to the curtain tie to the front and side of P's desk in the office, our home one. I like seeing it there, intimately close to where my husband does a lot of his work. Does it remind him that it has yet to be used, I hope so, I'm sure it must.

Have a fun weekend.

Ronnie

xx

Kinkycraft to the rescue?

So my canemaker is going to retire. How could he do that to me, well not only me he also works for a company much bigger than me and he's going to stop making for them too. What a rotter! Only joking, I like Alec and my first reaction when he told me was 'Are you OK, no health issues or anything?' No there aren't, he just wants more time for other things. It won't be until summer so he's giving me plenty of notice, he actually told me over the Christmas period.

 I've got time to find an alternative or try to. Not easy, I already know that from some tentative contact I've had with a paddle manufacturer in Germany and a spanking toys general supplier from India, who started off great guns but then when I got down to the nitty gritty and wouldn't place orders without seeing samples, went all quiet. Then I found, quite incidentally, a book I bought years ago called 'Kinkycraft' and I vaguely remembered a section on canes. I flicked the pages and sure enough there is indeed a section on how to make your own canes, I wondered if I could teach myself to make them, I mean I've got a few months. But then I read through the section, which I'll summarise:- 

• Obtain rattan, must be the bendy type
• Cut to length, they recommend 36"
• Soak in water in bath for a day
• Remove and hang up with weights to straighten out any kinks or place under heavy objects to do same
• Dry off
• Sand length to smooth nodes and round tip
• Double coat with yachting varnish
• And there you have it. One cane ready for use

What? Are they kidding? What about the curly handles how do I get those, or rubber handles or any sort of handles for that matter. And no way am I going to have a bath full of floating canes, P wouldn't be amused. I shall ask Alec if it's OK for me to increase my orders from him to build up a stockpile while I find a solution, that could extend me to, say, Autumn or even Christmas but it still isn't a long term solution. Panic stations:)

Have a fun weekend.

Ronnie

xx

Goodbye Office Spankings

It's funny how things change slowly, almost imperceptibly, and then suddenly something comes up which highlights the change and you find yourself recognising it and then, in my case at least, making a bit of a hoo-ha about it. My husband dropped the bombshell on me over the Christmas period that he can't see much point keeping the office on and he plans on quitting this year (didn't say when actually) as he doesn't use the full facilities any more and says it just isn't necessary, my own desk (the largest in the office) is hardly ever used in fact it's cluttered with samples which have been in the same position for weeks, I tend to use Claire's desk when I go in these days as she works from home now and only calls in for a coffee and a chat. P goes in most days but admits it's as more habit than a necessity so, with a few changes to working practices that's what's going to happen.

I had plenty of objections but he had answers, he said the small office upstairs where I store a lot of stock was OK to keep, it was secure and good value and there was a small desk and wifi available, he could move the printer up there and rearrange a few things, it would be fine. I knew what he was saying was true, I just didn't want a chapter of our lives to close. Then I thought about spanking, what about all the lovely office spankings, alarm bells alarm bells!!! god what would I do without them? But when I look back I've hardly been spanked in the office for months, P's cane, which he keeps taped under his desk, has been unused for months. I felt guilty and sad and empty and made a mental note to go in and clear my desk and turn up more often and at regular times.

"What about spankings," I asked. "I mean you know, when you decide I need one, as and when, I mean I'm not saying I need one, just wondered...ahem..(clear throat)..you know."

I thought why not bring it up, I mean they're a consideration too, there's something kinkily attractive about getting spanked in a real office with other people working in the building and pounding the corridors to and from the meeting room or reception or the copier room, whatever........I've many a time rushed red-faced past so-and-so in the corridor pretending I was in a hurry and couldn't stop to chat but really I'd just had a damned good spanking and/or possibly been fucked over one of the desks and wanted to get to the ladies room.

"Well that hasn't been much of a feature lately if you think about it," said my practical spouse, "but if you think it's an issue I can always keep my cane upstairs and who knows, when you're a naughty girl and it happens to be work related, I might order you to be in the office at this or that time and I'll come in especially to deal with the matter."

My heart skipped a beat, all was not lost. In fact the thought appealed, perhaps it won't be so bad, I'm still going to tidy my desk though and make a point of being there a bit more. I doubt if it will make him change his mind but it might get me a few more spankings:)

Have a good week.

Ronnie
xx

The Cane for Rod

So Rod Liddle, a leading regular feature writer at the Times, got caned frequently at school and his mother kept a selection of canes at home which were used to maintain discipline in the Liddle family. The canes (his mother's not the school's) were taken from the garden so presumably she had plenty to choose from and replacements available if ever one broke, which, in my own experience, can happen with garden canes. All this is revealed in his column (you wont be able to read article as you have to subscribe to it), the main focus of which is actually the banning of smacking children in Scotland.

It's a funny thought that while the spanking of children, which has been an accepted right of parents, schools and authority figures over centuries, is diminishing and on the verge of extinction whereas the spanking of adults is at an all time high and growing. I don't like state intervention dictating what we can and can't do but overall I'm in favour in the case of kids. Needless to say I wouldn't like to see it extended to adults:)

As for Rod Liddle, a writer who sometimes writes observant and funny things but not always, I would imagine he might well still have a little soft spot for those caning days. Perhaps he still gets it, they do say that many an adult participant can trace back the origins of their little peccadillo to youthful experiences. Not from his mother of course but perhaps his wife keeps him in check; if so I have a little bit of advice, don't use up garden canes, keep them in the soil, invest in some nice kooboos, they're much more flexible.  

Have a good week.

Ronnie

xx

How embarrassing

I am uncovered, a ruined woman, exposed. Well maybe.

You see I keep a few canes at my office, it isn't really an office more of a storage facility where I keep other items I sell online and have done for years, it does have a desk though and a little packing area so I suppose it is technically an office. Anyway I had to consent to the maintenance man accessing my little store room on Friday last week. I got a phone call saying one of the guys in the age care charity office had reported noises from inside and they knew I wasn't in. Dave, the maintenance man who we've known for years, asked if I could come in or could he have my permission to go in because he'd stood outside my room and heard the noise himself. I asked him if P was in his office but he wasn't. I said I couldn't get there in less than about forty minutes and I'd make a quick phone call to my husband and call him back in minutes.

I've got no problem with Dave going into my office trust-wise but I couldn't remember whether I'd left any spanking implements out on view, or even whether the top flaps on the box containing them were open or closed. I tried P's phone but he didn't answer, then I thought quickly the longer I delay calling back the worse it will seem, as if I'm trying to hide something (which I was), so I called Dave back very quickly and sounding as casual as possible just said, "No good Dave, sorry I thought P might be nearby and save you the hassle but he's not answering so sure, go ahead by all means. Do you want me to stay on the phone while you go in?" He said he didn't and that he'd call me back after he'd investigated.

Half an hour later I got a call back, there was a bird in there, my window was open about ten centimetres and it must have flown in, a real fluke. He said the alarm couldn't have been set or it would have gone off immediately. Anyway he'd got rid of it and locked up, he said there was some bird poo on my desk but he couldn't see any anywhere else. Shit (no pun), I thought, so he'd had a look around. I just said "Great thanks Dave, I'll be in later so I'll clean up, sorry about that can't imagine who left the window open, maybe Clare's been up there, anyway thanks again".

I didn't go straight to the office, I waited for P to call me back and told him what had happened and what I was worried about. He said it was no problem and I'd done the right thing answering Dave very quickly. He said the best thing to do was to just be normal when I went in and ask Dave to go back upstairs with me when I did turn up, in case there were any more birds, he said he knew that was ridiculous but men expected women to be ridiculous about things like that. Then, once in the office, make a point of shifting a few boxes to make sure another bird hadn't come  in, and make sure to shuffle the canes box if the lid flaps were open and to make a comment on it. I asked him what sort of bloody comment could I make? He thought for a bit and then said,

"Hmm ok, leave it then and I'll get back to the office later and ask Dave to open up for me because I haven't got a key with me. I'll think of something to say about the canes, no problem. All you need to worry about is why your window was left open and why the alarm wasn't set. Naughty girl, see what can happen when you get slack, I think you need a little reprimand."

P told me later he'd spun Dave some yarn about me buying a job lot of stuff from a shop closure off ebay and the canes had been amongst it, weird stuff the things people got up to. He said Dave didn't seem too interested, just sort of tut tutted and shook his head. I said well that might be how he was with you, bloke to bloke, but he might have a look in his eye next time he sees me. 

Anyway it's done now and I suppose I'll brazen it out next time I see Dave. I haven't been reprimanded for it yet but P does say his headaches are reducing:)

Ronnie

xx

Tawses....Straps....Canes....

Decided to schedule a re-post instead of a picture post. Hope it works.

The department store was one of the traditional type you don't see many nowadays, old but well kept building, no fluorescent sales posters, no weasel '(up to) 50% OFF' lures, sensible modest window displays, its only apparent self promotion was a framed plaque fixed to the wall by the entrance door boasting Johnson and Johnson had a department for absolutely everything, and they'd proudly provided discerning service and quality since 1810.

''Everything?'' I ask, back home. ''Everything.'' the man on the phone says, so I resolve to put them to the test and turn up first thing next morning asking for the 'discipline dept'..............to my surprise the assistant behind the customer services desk doesn't bat an eyelid and takes me to an elevator where she whispers something to a uniformed attendant, he stands aside courteously to let me in, the elevator stops two levels down and the uniformed man steps out indicating I should follow. ''But this is fabrics and household furniture,'' I politely point out, good stuff too from the look of it, arranged in small sections either side of a corridor walkway, each with matching or complementary displays. The man pauses, smiles politely and extends his hand in the direction of the corridor which seems to end at a tapestried wall. ''Please,'' he says. I follow.

I know quality, my eyes, ears and nose are filled with it. Silent footsteps on lush Wilton, unobtrusive classical music, leather, oak, silk, brass, I like it. Well dressed assistants, I can only see two, no customers so far but then I'm early. We get to the tapestry and the uniformed man stops, to the right appears to be more floor space and more displays, I think I see a couple of customers talking with an assistant along there. To the left is a conventional corridor with doors off each side, the man tells me I need the third door on the right, I should go right in, Mr Bellamy will be with me shortly.

The door leads into a panelled room, more thick carpet, portraits along the facing wall, I recognise some as noteworthiness of old, they all look austere. There's a large dark wood table in the centre, top inlaid with leather, matching chairs, some at the table and some along the wall to the right, it must seat a dozen easily. Several cabinets line the opposite wall, all closed, there's also a door, it's closed too.

No Mr Bellamy, no goods for browsing. I'm about to leave when the door opens, startling me slightly, ''Ah good morning madam, I'm so sorry to have kept you, I'm Mr Bellamy.'' He proffers his hand which I take, it seems right, he's well dressed, distinguished looking, his hand is firm and he's well spoken with a friendly yet professional demeanour. ''We don't have nearly as many clients for this department nowadays,'' he explains, ''not since corporal discipline was banned from the state education system, even the best private schools reluctantly complied eventually, at least ostensibly, and then all the fuss we read in the press about parental smacking and what's right and wrong, what's permissible and not, you know what I mean,'' he said. I detected genuine sadness in his voice, the passing of an era and all that, and I nodded understandingly. Still, we do have our regular clients, city folk, business types, gentlemen of the land etc who still respect the old values, and of course we welcome new clients like yourself, modern thinking independent women who are interested less in political correctness than personal satisfaction.'' He smiled warmly, I felt flattered.

''So, er, where are the, ahem, sale items. Mr Bellamy?'' I ventured.

''Of course, how remiss of me,'' he said taking a bunch of keys from his pocket and moving towards the cabinets, ''Please.''

He opened them from left to right and I followed him, only as he progressed from one cabinet to the next, I stalled at the first. Transfixed. Eyes bulging, heart pounding. The cabinet was lined with canes, 

hanging neatly from hooks, each had a small hand written note fastened under its hook detailing its length, thickness, origin, material, 'used' or 'unused' and so on.There were crooked handles, straight handles, leather bound, cord bound. long, short, extra flexible, junior, senior, I had never realised there were so many options. Mr Bellamy must have noticed me, perhaps he thought I was feeling ill. ''Madam?'' He said, indicating the other cabinets he'd opened for my inspection. ''Can I get you a class of water, or perhaps a coffee?'' I told him a glass of water would be appreciated and he told me he'd be a few minutes, leaving me to peruse his treasures at my leisure.

I browsed from cabinet to cabinet, it was astonishing, there were tawses, straps, paddles, rulers, books to record punishments in, books about historical punishment, books explaining how to administer punishment, all in the cabinets to the left of the door. 

The cabinets to the right of the door contained soft suede floggers, riding crops, whips, handcuffs, blindfolds etc, sort of Ann Summers but in quality. It seemed stock to the left was for the traditionalists and stock to the right was for fun couples seeking added excitement. I was drawn to the left, it had the 'properness' of time, it had authority, it was compelling.

Mr Bellamy returned with my water and asked me if I'd seen anything which suited my requirements. I told him I preferred the cabinets to the left of the door and asked him if he had any more displays, perhaps through the as yet unopened door. No displays in that room, he said, it was bare all but its thick carpet, a single large desk and its heavy velvet drapes. I asked him if that was his office then, and he smiled and told me not at all, the room used to get quite frequent use from clients wishing to test items prior to purchasing, hence the heavy fabrics which provide wonderful sound insulation. I felt the blood rush to my cheeks. It still got used, he assured me, just not as often.

I returned to the cabinets to break eye contact with Mr Bellamy and hide my excited embarrassment. I asked him where the prices were and if, say, I made a purchase of for instance a couple of long canes, how would I be able to carry them from the store without raising attention. He explained if I lifted the note against each item the price was underneath, and that long implements were packed discreetly in suitable plain boxes or could even be delivered for a small charge.

I took several more minutes and narrowed my initial interest down to five canes, a long double split tawse and four straps but I didn't want to buy all of them, I was dithering and Mr Bellamy sensed my dilemma. ''Perhaps madam would care to test the items to help her decide,'' he said matter of factly. ''But I don't have anyone with me, Mr Bellamy,'' I said, my heart thumping so hard I thought it must be audible. ''Madam,'' said Mr Bellamy, ''I believe my experience, after almost twenty-five years having helped many a lady and gentleman make the right choice, is at your service.'' With that his hand reached for his keys and the testing room door was opened. If I was going to bolt now was the time, but I didn't and five minutes later I was bending over the large desk bawling my eyes out as Mr. Bellamy helped me evaluate my choices.

A sore bottomed but very well satisfied customer left Johnson and Johnson later that morning.

I'd chosen to have my choices delivered, Mr Bellamy had said he'd do it personally.

Have a fun weekend.

Ronnie
xx

Let me know if any of the pictures are yours.

Dinner Talk

Was all about canes. Well not really all about them but quite a lot about them, not actually how they're used but more how they're made. There was other stuff too, about travel, Malaysia and the Far East as well as Europe and the US and a bit of light politics and business.
 

You see we were entertaining a retired gentleman and his daughter, a single mom. I perhaps should say he was entertaining us because he was gregarious and had lots of stories to tell but then again P picked up the bill and we'd chosen the venue so I suppose in that respect we were doing the entertaining. Anyway, long story short, the gentleman as a hobby makes wicker furniture, fruit baskets, hampers and the like......but he also makes canes, the variety that can be applied to the backside not the type for walking. He makes them for a small company in Middlesex, which sells them online alongside other related items and some not quite related but sex industry stuff which he didn't know much about. I should say he isn't remotely interested in the sex industry and has no opinion on the intended use for his canes, although his daughter thinks he should do more of them.

 We got the contact from an enquiry we'd made on the internet about sprucing up wicker garden furniture a couple of weeks ago, ours needs attention or replacing. So I emailed then spoke with him by phone, he sounded nice and lives in a village no more than ten miles from us, he has a small workshop in his garden. He dropped out the cane making thing almost as a joke, I thought, when he told me the range of stuff he could do but needless to say my ears pricked up. I told P about him and said we could get furniture from him or he would even come and refurbish ours as long as it wasn't too far gone. Then I mentioned the canes and P laughed and said we had quite enough canes. I said no, I wasn't thinking for us, I was just wondering if there might be a bit of business there. Well my husband called him, liked him, asked him to come over and take a look at our furniture and charge us for his time of course and we'd make a decision. He came, he was a really nice guy and when P asked how much we owed, he said he was happy enough to get the work from us the journey was no problem, P insisted and said if he wouldn't take anything at least let us treat him to a bite to eat some time.

 So there we were Friday night in the cosy little C18 bistro in our local town, us keeping our voices down but him not and I don't suppose it mattered much over the hubbub, chatting away as if we were old friends, he had that way with him and his daughter likewise, and we broached the subject of the possible commerciality of his little sideline in canes. I lied and told him a friend of mine had a blog which was centred around spanking and there was a considerable market for that sort of stuff in my opinion. He only showed polite interest but his daughter gave him a look that said 'told you so' without actually saying it. We talked only in vague terms testing the water not wanting to spoil a very enjoyable evening by homing in too much on commercial aspects but at the end of the evening his daughter gave me her email and said she'd love to hear more.

 She has heard more since and we've talked several times on the phone and had coffee one morning, and her dad's sorting our garden furniture out. I think we might be doing something with canes too, that would be nice, and even if we don't I'll probably get some samples. I wonder who I can get to test them:)

Have a good week.

A coincidence, PK wrote a post about canes and me being crazy liking the cane. Go check it out.

Ronnie

xx      

Pammy's Caning

Click each picture for larger image.

Have a fun weekend.

Ronnie

xx

Pictures from Gingerholic