Caned in Jodhpurs

You remember I ordered some new jodhpurs, they came, they fit snugly, I think they're making them a little tighter round the tummy than the last ones but they're good and I'm keeping them. I casually told my husband they'd arrived, he seemed nonplussed he was concentrating on something, from the look on his face he didn't know what I was talking about. Then twenty minutes later he told me I should get more use from my old ones before throwing money at new ones. Frivolous expenditure he called it. I didn't disagree in fact I was willing him to further remonstrate but he didn't; instead he just told me maybe I'd better wear my old ones when we got home. Then he asked me if our son would be in or out, I said out. Definitely wear them then, he said, as soon as we get in, and no knickers, he sounded stern. My legs squeezed together and my bottom shuffled on my swivel chair, I managed to contain my smile.

Two hours went very slowly I can tell you, then just after 5.30pm P got a call from a client and was on till nearly 6 o'clock, oh god more waiting, I knew my pants were damp when we finally left the building.

Back home I went to put some stuff on simmer before getting changed but P stopped me and said why don't we try the new tapas bar that's just opened in town. That was fine by me, then he reminded me I better go and get my jodhpurs on (as if I needed reminding), I stopped for a brief moment, an horrific thought that he might want to take me out in them flashed through my mind, then it passed, he wouldn't do that it would be too embarrassing for him, too, if we met anyone. In the bedroom I was nervous, ridiculous isn't it, I mean the number of times I've been spanked and still I get apprehensive, tense, and excited too I'll admit that, but it's a funny combination and it still happens. I'm glad it does. I de-knickered, threw my shirt and bra on the bed, pulled on a thin Max Mara vest, the fabric always makes my nipples harden, and drew on my old jodhpurs and boots. The new ones were crumpled on the ripped packaging at the side of the dresser, I was so tempted to put them on but he'd specifically said my old ones.

I looked in the mirror, did my bum look fat, was it plump enough,

did I need some lippy on, did it make any difference if he made me do you know what to him, better with or without lippy? I rather like to have it on, I like to see my lips lustrous it makes me feel sexy, I like seeing the red all over his shaft after I've done it, I was about to apply some when my husband's voice rang out.

"You've been quite long enough, I want you in the office. Now!" He sounded so strict, I abandoned the lipstick and went immediately to our little office.

He was waiting for me, sat against the desk edge, his curly handled cane held loosely, tap tapping against his left thigh. I wanted to ask him where the crop was, I mean crops go with jodhpurs not canes, but it might burst the bubble and I didn't want that. I was going to get what I'd wanted for days, I just hoped it wasn't too hard but I mean you can't say that sort of thing when you've got something going, you just have to trust. And anyway I might want it hard once I was into it so I put my trust and my bottom in my husband's hands, so to speak.

"You know why you're here." I didn't know if that was a question or a statement and I didn't answer.

"You're here because you've been greedy." What? Where on earth was he going with that?

"Greedy to indulge, in fact over indulge, your little kink for equestrian accessories," he continued, "well we'll see what a trip across my desk does for your perverted infatuation. I doubt you'll be so eager to pull on a pair of riding breeches for some considerable time." Oh christ I loved what he was saying but I hoped he didn't mean it, the implied severity I mean, it can be a tad uncomfortable eating out on a very sore bottom. Anyway it was out of my hands and my husband got off the desk edge and pulled me forward, he placed one hand on my shoulder and one on my bottom and bent me gently but firmly into position, his cane was still in his right hand and I could feel the business end of it tickling my leg.

Then he was standing back, weighing up his target, I wondered if my bottom looked frightened, perhaps vulnerable might be the best description, its owner was frightened though. I shifted my weight from left to right, flinched my bottom a bit, I needed it to start, then I took the bull by the horns and stuck my bottom out and up, god I hoped it looked sexy and I hoped my husband knew I was offering myself up to him. Still nothing happened so I tried to plump my cheeks out even more and then I got my reward if that's the right word, I heard the briefest of whooshes and then a searing line of white heat across both my cheeks

which made me gasp so much could hardly manage a cry, and just as I was about to get into a serious howl and wiggle my scalded cheeks in a useless attempt to lessen the pain, another stroke followed swiftly causing me to arch up and OWWWwwwww!! as I twisted towards my punisher wide eyed from shock.

My husband stood smirking, he'd known the effect the strokes would have on me, he'd wanted it so.

"Shush shush," he said, "you've only had two strokes of the cane, it's nothing other naughty girls don't get, now bend back over or I'll cane you much harder." He sounded as if he meant it too. I bent over again but didn't push my bottom out this time, I wasn't going to invite that level of intimacy again, but my husband started tapping the cane lightly on my cheeks, then he said "Come on I want that bottom pushed right out to meet my cane again. Do it, I won't tell you twice." So I did, and I heard myself whimper as I did it and I had to really will myself to get it right up and I know my legs started to shake as I was doing it and then I heard the whoosh of the cane again but no pain came, I think P was having a practice swipe and it sounded terrible and I whimpered again and I'm sure by buttocks were quivering in the confines of my jodhpurs.

Then two more strokes landed across my bottom and I breathed a gasp this time of relief, they were nowhere near so hard. Then my husband's hands were round my waist searching for the side clasp and zipper which he soon opened. He said he needed to see how much damage he'd done but I could feel the hardness of his cock against my seat and thought he needed something else. He lowered the pants and looked at my bottom, decided it was nowhere near enough punished and proceeded to give me another four strokes of his cane across my bare flesh, they were very stingy and they made me wriggle but not howl,

they were very stingy and they made me wriggle but not howl, I could sense the worst was over and I was right.

The cane was thrown on the floor, P pulled me up and had me kneel on the futon which is a lot more comfortable, with my upper body over the back. He kneaded and soothed my burning cheeks and asked me if I'd learned my lesson. I thought no, P, I haven't learned it yet but I hope I'm going to learn it very soon. His hand strayed between my legs and discovered my slutty condition, hopelessly wet, I pushed my ravaged bum against his hand forcing his fingers hard into me, then his hand was gone and I heard his fly unzip and then his cock had replaced his hand, he was too big at first and I shouted out and loved the feeling and begged him to do it hard. And he did.

An hour later we were off into town, happy as newlyweds, I had two half welts on my bottom which played me up right through our meal and I shuffled about quite a lot, I think the tapas were a bit poor but I thoroughly enjoyed the evening. When we got back home later our son was still out, P asked me if I'd like some cream on my backside, he doesn't often do that, I thought he must still be feeling frisky and said yes please, but then we heard a key in the lock. Ah well.

Ronnie

xx

Spanked in Jodhpurs

I got one of my periodic emails from Equestrian Clearance the other day,

they've got a sale on jodhpurs and breeches (they also do excellent riding crops by the way and for a fraction of what sex shops charge). I have a little thing about riding, tight fitting jodhpurs, ahem whips and things.... pause for blush..... and the email rekindled it.

I decided to order another pair and I decided I needed to be spanked in a pair. Urgently.

Well first things first, so I browsed the range on offer, sidetracked over to the whips and crops where there didn't seem to be anything new (I suppose there's only so much you can update with those things I mean they've been serving their purpose for centuries, perhaps that's one of the reasons I like them), went back to the jodhpurs ummed and arred a bit and then settled on a stone coloured pair which I ordered.

I told P later that I'd ordered a new pair, perhaps I expected him to share my excitement, I shouldn't have, I know my husband.

"You've already got some, you don't need more," was his comment.

"I can send them back if you don't like them." I was a little deflated by his disinterest and I had no intention of sending back anyway but wanted to draw further comment.

"What's to like, I don't wear them you do, and then not very often and when you do it's only to get your arse spanked." Ooh P what brutal honesty, I thought, lovely.

"Well there are different types you know, and colours and fabrics, they've got two-tone, chequered, all sorts, they do them for men too." I quite fancy a D'Arcy type thrashing me masterfully, I didn't tell him that of course.

"When I take up horse riding I'll refer to you for advice then," he said. "Meanwhile the only consideration I have for jodhpurs would be that for the purpose to which you put them, the construction is all wrong. The seated inset in them is too thick, I assume it's to withstand the friction wear better against the saddle, but in your case it would be much better if the seat was thinner...in fact very thin." And off he went, I hadn't exactly stirred his passion but at least I knew he was on the same wavelength about the jodhpurs' use or misuse.

A good point about the seat too, P, but goodness, surely if it was thinner it would sting more:)

Ronnie

xx

Whips, Jodhpurs and the Weekly Shop

I like riding gear even though I don't really ride. I know I've told you before about my embarrassing, half hearted and finally aborted attempt to buy a nice leather crop from our nearby pet and equestrian accessories store.

Well I don't have to get embarrassed any more because our local Tesco supermarket has started stocking them alongside footballs and other sporty stuff.

Now I'm a bit dubious about Tesco quality on certain items and these aren't the sort of things I could take back if they weren't up to standard, I mean what could I say? But at least I can feel, touch, handle, get a feel for them without some 'helpful' assistant coming up and bothering me.

In fact I don't even need to blush as the checkout girl scans my jodhpurs and whip with a sly smile - I can go through the auto self checkout, no problem.

I'd even get Tesco points on them, might just be tempted.

Thanks to Daisy for spotting them and letting us know.

Enjoy your weekend.

Love,

Ronnie

xx

Planned Spanking

Talking with Hermione and Zelle about dressage tickets for the London 2012 Olympics (I have applied for tickets and for the 100m and 200m events so keeping fingers crossed) I remembered I'd hadn't shown P my new jodhpurs, I mean why buy them and then not wear them and why wear them and not get spanked in them ('What about riding in them' did I hear someone say? - you're kidding not know of course.)

So while he was at work on Saturday I tried them on with boots my white blouse and took a look in the mirror. Yep good fit, I thought, in fact I would like to wear them out somewhere and if P would be kind enough to accompany me to one of the nice country pubs in Staffs or Warks one of the days I'm sure I wouldn't feel out of place but as for mooching around our local town in them I think not. I'm sure I spent more time at the mirror than I would to go out to a posh dinner, I swapped my knickers for a thong (I don't like them but I do have some and it took away the pantyline) and removed my bra.

I wouldn't do that for a country pub trip of course but a trip across my husband's lap was another matter. Touch of lipstick, which again I'm not big on but I do keep a few and one pillar box red in particular (do riders wears lipstick? - I've no idea but I can assure you this slutty pretend one does). It was about half an hour from when P normally gets home on Saturdays, I could hardly wait. I fished out our riding crops, yes that's plural, we have two, one in black braided leather and the other mauve with a black handle and flapper. I chose the black one and was about to walk downstairs with it when I thought 'No, hold on, do I want it down in the lounge with me or do I want to made to go and fetch it?' I decided the latter and left it on the bed.

Downstairs I retrieved some used cups and a plate from the dishwasher (I don't switch on till it's full, green to the core) and scattered them around, displaced a few cushions, poured a tiny drop of red wine into a glass and smudged lipstick onto the rim, thought about actually drinking some to get it on my breath but couldn't quite manage that, I don't drink day times except at weddings and occasionally Sunday lunch if we're out. That was about it, I was mentally preparing a few flippant answers as to why the attire, why the messy state of the lounge, why the wine etc, about five minutes I reckoned, my backside was beginning to tingle, I played with my imagined answers as the minutes ticked by, flippant was OK but a bit of sauce was needed too, in fact a bit of attitude would go down well, yes I could manage that no problem. I hoped my rear could cope with what my scheming brain was setting it up for.

Ten minutes after P's normal arrival time I was getting anxious, pacing around, about to phone him when I heard a car on the drive, I went to the door and peeped through one of the little fan shaped windows, there were two people in his car. P got out and went to the boot and his mother got out the passenger side. Shit shit bloody shit! I was up those stairs two at a time and I can tell you my lovely riding gear came off a damn site quicker than it went on. I heard the front door open as I was pulling on my jeans, t shirt nearest to hand, slippers, about to go down when I remembered I didn't have a bra on so back the bedroom and a good job I did because I caught sight of myself in the mirror and realised I still had the ghastly red lipstick on. I got it off as best I could, straightened myself in the mirror, took a deep breath, calm. Right, here goes, offer his mom a cup of coffee, chat about the neighbourhood thugs (8-year-olds who accidentally let paper airplanes fly into her garden) and arthritis and bad nights sleep and such, bit of a letdown when by rights I really should be getting my comeuppance.

When I got downstairs, she'd already made coffee and a tea. She'd also cleared away the cups and my wine glass and straightened the cushions before sitting down. God she must have thought what a lazy good for nothing her son had landed. P was in the garage unloading some stuff from the car, it was several more minutes before he came in and went up to change. When he came down he smiled at me, I'd left my riding gear and the crop in a bundle on the bed.

I'd completely forgotten P had promised to take his mother to get some plants from the garden centre. They hadn't been yet, thought I might like to go with them. Oh sure, that would be lovely. I did go, didn't buy anything, P's mom bought enough for the neighbourhood. I kept seeing canes everywhere, life isn't fair sometimes.

Ronnie

xx

Hanging up my jodhpurs

Quitting my blog

This came out of the blue and I can tell you it was quite a shock. P asked me when I figured I'd be giving up my blog.

'Why?' I asked, I'm sure my face drained of all colour as I turned towards him. What on earth had prompted this.

'Oh no particular reason,' he said, 'I was reading about ageism and sexism and women getting unfair treatment at the BBC and Hugh Hefner and his juvenile wife and that sort of stuff.'

'Well I suppose I'll have to stop when you stop helping me,' I said. I had terrible visions of hanging up my jodhpurs,

taking the old box of toys down to our local Oxfam store, at night, and leaving it on their doorstep then doing a runner before anyone saw me.

'I don't help you,' he said with furrowed brow.

'Oh you do, P, you most surely do. Without your continued assistance I don't think I could do it.'

The penny dropped and he smiled. 'Ah, so as long as I keep spanking then...'

Correct, P. Phew! Panic over, sigh of relief, I put my hand on my bottom and thought I've got plenty of spankings left in me yet.

Ronnie

xx