It was all down to the weather

Roll on more bad weather, I say. I mean we had daytime temperatures as low as 15C last week and our heating kicked in a couple of times (which P has now sorted) and that's ridiculous for mid August. Even the weather presenters on TV look sheepish when they try to dress their forecasts up a bit so as to sound not so gloomy. I don't know why they bother, do they think we are all idiots or does some secret arm of government insist that the broadcasting authorities tell their presenters to put a cheerful slant on things to keep the peasants from rising up:)

Anyway I digress because the weather did me a bit of good last week, well quite a lot of good actually. For one it got me an unexpected trip to Finland where I shall be spending a few days near the end of the month and for two, it got me spanked. The Finnish trip came out of the blue, our old partner there has has the use a cabin on one of the lakes north of Helsinki and invited us to join him, it will probably be the last time we go there and I'm looking forward to it. The spanking came about because I was whingeing on about the weather, it was before P mentioned the trip to me, and I was fed up of the cool damp dreary days of so called summer. We still haven't got a holiday booked either so I threw that one in for good measure.

P is actually more tolerant than me about such things, he shrugs it off and gets on with whatever he's doing regardless. Anyway, tolerant of the weather he may be but tolerant of my frequent moaning he is not and he spanked me after he'd told me a few times to live with it and make the best of it and it didn't stop us doing anything etcetera etcetera...and I still went on later the same day. He stood and took a deep breath, rested his hands on his hips in resigned sort of way and just looked at me. It went so quiet I looked back wondering why he hadn't responded.

"You know what, I'm not going to come out with any platitudes, I'm not going to say things just to try and cheer you up like you do with kids, I've had enough now. I'm going to give you a damned good spanking and give you something to really whine about and perhaps you'll give the weather..and me.. a break."

He came over and took me by the arm lifting me up from the sofa, my ipad fell on the floor, I pulled back to try and pick it up but he marched me towards the door. So he was going to take me upstairs which usually meant a longer spanking and most likely an implement involved. I hoped it wouldn't be the cane.

We entered the office and P closed the window to reduce noise escaping. He didn't cane me, he didn't even make me take my jeans down. Instead he sat on the futon and pulled me across his lap and spanked me solidly by hand for what must have been a full five minutes with the occasional pause for him to change hands. A clothed spanking doesn't hurt as much to start with but it does build up over a period and five minutes is a long time in spanking terms, especially when strong hands are administering. He berated me right the way through it, telling me I was childish, selfish, ungrateful, unreasonable and that sort of stuff and that moaning and groaning about something over which none of us had any control didn't do me or those around me any favours at all and I should try seeing a glass half full not half empty and think about how I might brighten things up for other people instead of making life a misery. That got to me and I felt really bad apart from the smarting in my backside, which was going to get a lot worse although I didn't know it. I mumbled that I was sorry, and I genuinely was, and made to get up but P put his hand on my back and held me down, saying he hadn't told me to get up.

I heard him rustling about with his free hand on the bookcase which is just about reachable from the end of the futon. Then he spoke again.

"I know you're sorry, I can tell from your voice that you mean it but that's not enough, I told you you I was going to give you a damned good spanking and I am and I'm only half finished and you'll be even more sorry by the time I'm done and maybe you'll think back on this next time you're feeling down in the dumps and try not to take everybody there with you." He sounded like he really meant it and I honestly hadn't realised how much I must have been getting on his nerves.

"I really am sorry P," I said in a clearer voice this time, "I know what you're saying is true." I was going to say more but then the THWAP came.

It was heavy but pliable and covered a large surface area and could only have been the leatherthorn paddle. My bottom was already tender and I'm sure if he'd taken my jeans and knickers down and given it to me that hard on the bare I would have yelled the place down. It was bad enough over tightly stretched thin denim but I was really on the back foot and although I wriggled a lot because it hurt so much I didn't squeal or remonstrate with him because I felt really bad and knew I deserved a good spanking. In fact at times I even consciously pushed my bottom upwards to try and let him know I knew I deserved what I was getting. I don't know how long it lasted, I think a bit less than the hand spanking.

When it was over he helped me up and had me sit next to him on the futon. My bottom was blazing as much as I could ever remember and the heat was retained by my denims. He put his arm around my shoulder and rubbed the top of my arm and in that split second I thought I was going to burst into tears, not because of the spanking but because I knew I'd been wrong. I wish I could have cried but instead I turned into him and buried my head in his chest, my hand on his thigh and said I was sorry again, several times, softly and meaningfully and we just stayed like that for a few minutes. I think a few tears might have trickled from my eyes and my nose was definitely sniffling. When he broke the quiet I wasn't ready for it and I jumped when he said he was going to make a cup of tea and did I want one. I'd been so snug I almost said no let's just stay here but instead I said, brightly, I'd do it.

"No," he said, "you should go wash your face, I'll take care of it."

I felt like clinging to him but went to the bathroom as he suggested. What an idiot I'd been, I wondered if he'd recorded the moans and groans I'd been making and played them back to me, what would I have thought of myself. It made me shudder to think. I was so happy he'd brought it home to me and the way he'd done it was perfect. Later in the day I went upstairs and slipped my jeans and knickers down in front of the bedroom mirror, my bottom was still red and I'd have a couple of bruises for sure but I was one happy reformed moaner.

On the evening I went and bought tickets to see a laser light show in our magnificent cathedral, we'll go this coming weekend. I also bought my husband a couple of pints of a guest ale in one of the town's pubs, I got them from the bar too on both occasions. I was chatty and had my hand fondling his thigh sitting at a high stool table until I realised that customers on lower seats could see me doing it. When we got home later we had sex, it was very strong, spontaneous and pure joy, before watching some late night TV with a glass of wine.

Next day he told me about the Finland trip, then said not to regard it as a holiday, he knew I still wanted some time in the sunshine and warmth of siesta Europe and he still intended to book something.

I haven't moaned once about the weather since.

Ronnie
xx  

Which is the most exhausting?

To be thoroughly spanked or to give a thorough spanking?

I don't know the answer because I've never given a thorough spanking but my husband asked me on Saturday night as we sat down, just the two of us, to eat a meal and I commented that I felt knackered and feigned my head flopping down towards a bowl of steaming hot moules mariniere. I'd already done the Ouch! bit as I sat on one of our padded dining chairs, it was a genuine ouch too by the way, and now I was letting him know he'd exhausted me, really exhausted, but in a happy way like after having marathon sex. But I hadn't had that, I'd been spanked.

"Ah some of us have more stamina," he said jokingly, "it's tiring for a spanker too you know, but we rise above it."

I told him he hadn't appeared to be tired at all when he'd been laying cane strokes across my bare bottom upstairs in the bedroom. He said I hadn't either judging from the way I'd been wiggling and vocalising. I smiled and said it was delayed action, just setting in, possibly because there'd been no sex; he'd spanked it all out of me which was exactly what he'd promised to do earlier in the day as we'd set out on a Christmas shopping trip. I'd been a bit suggestive about something and he'd told me I was one over horny woman and should concentrate on what we had to do and if I kept it up he'd spank it out of me. Then he changed his mind and said he'd drain it out of me during the day and then, later, whatever was left he'd spank out of me. I thought knowing me, not much chance of that, and said something like you and whose army. This was all very amiable you understand and totally off the cuff. Getting ready to go out I kept making lewdish suggestions and when he told me I'd been warned, I told him as a woman I could multi task, I could be rude and concentrate on the shopping.

Anyway to cut it short he masturbated me in the car on the A5, he made me undo my belt and jeans and did it while he was driving, I told him he couldn't it was dangerous and he laughed and said men could multi task too and to shut up and wiggle up the seat a bit so that he could get his hand into my knickers and even as he was telling me I  started to come, not full blown but enough to make me gasp. We got a fair bit of shopping done and P went back to the car mid way through the session to deposit bags to free himself up to carry more bags. When we'd done and were walking back to the car park he put all his bags into one hand and fondled my bum with the other, telling me he was going to masturbate me again in the car. I told him not to be so stupid it was really busy by that time and there were loads of people about and we'd be seen (note slut me, my objection was about being seen, not the outrage behaviour). Anyway the threat had raised my excitement even as we walked and sure enough he did it only this time he undid me as he had both hands free and I sat there trying to keep still and look composed and pretend I was in conversation with him as people passed by. I cried out a little as I came and urged him to start the car and get going, I was flushed and had a stupid false smile on my face and was still pretending to be talking naturally. I wouldn't make a good actress.

So back home after a cup of tea and P making a few preparations for our later meal, he asked me if I still had any lewdness left in me. I coyly said well maybe just a bit but I thought he'd pretty much drained me, then I asked him rather less coyly why not have a feel and judge for himself. He told me he would after he'd fetched our leatherthorn from upstairs and, if he found me in an excited condition he'd spank it out of me. He said it shouldn't take too long because after a couple of orgasms it would hurt faster and I'd soon lose any urges. Well that's what he thought or at least that's what he said. Needless to say such talk fired me up and when he came back with the paddle I knew my knickers were wet already. I got spanked, by paddle and by hand, over about fifteen minutes and then after a little pause when I'd genuinely lost the urge, he started stroking my backside and telling me how cute it looked in that shade of red and it just got me going again.

"Oh dear," said my husband and he helped me up off his lap. "Pull your pants up you're coming with me." And he marched me upstairs and caned me and it hurt like hell on top of the spanking and after squealing and kicking my legs and making a fuss I eventually went still like a rag doll and he stopped and said good, it looks as if that's been effective, then he said he had to put the oven on and he left me there and went downstairs. I joined him in the kitchen ten minutes later and put my hand on his bum and told him that had hurt but I was stroking him even as I said it. "Apparently not enough," he said, "judging from your actions." He finished what he was doing and then took me back upstairs, I was saying no please P, I've had enough all the way up the stairs and into the bedroom but he was determined. He caned me again, christ my bottom hadn't been so ravaged for ages, I'd truly lost all sexual direction and was on the verge of crying and begging him to stop towards the end. He stopped without me having to beg and told me he trusted that had 'neutralised' me, his word not mine.

Well that was the background and that's how I got tired. Really exhausted. And more than a little sore. Later in the evening sitting on the sofa with a glass of wine P asked me how my bum was, I told him it still hurt and I leaned over and pecked his cheek. He said he bet as he hadn't heard any more suggestive thought from me so he must have done a good job. I whispered that the thoughts had just started coming back but I wasn't going to say anything in case he caned me again. Hmm, he said, no he wouldn't cane me again he was satisfied that his cane had done its work earlier. So I put my hand on his crotch and felt his cock stir. We had an early night.

Have a good week.

Ronnie

xx

I should add for the record, we had discussed this kind of scenario a few times, ie me getting drained and spanked with no sexual gratifying crescendo, it was eyes wide open so don't go feeling sorry for me:) 

I'm boring

I could hardly believe the words I was hearing, and coming from my husband too. We were out to dinner, with son and partner and two friends and whilst the boys were rabbiting on about so called Internet of Things room thermostats which talk with their phones when they're driving home and Amazon's latest in-house talking diary, memo pad and spy, I was apparently steering the girls towards the weekend weather, health issues and holidays. I mean what's wrong with holidays? They beat Elon Musk's electric cars in my opinion.

Anyway I was cautioned. Not in public thank goodness for him. I would have exploded and given him a mouthful if he had done that. No it was after we'd finished the evening and were walking back to the car. I told him I talked about sane real things, women had to get washing done, one in the party has baby clothes to wash, one has a not deadly but annoying health concern, one couple are going for a Malta Spa break later this month (not us unfortunately), so stuff I bring up is just as relevant as boy talk. Anyway, traditional domestic roles are merging these days, I told him, so perhaps he's a bit old fashioned in his thinking and he shouldn't allow conversation to focus on that gadgetry and innovation, it was rude. I'd made my point.

When we got home P told me to go upstairs, he said I was right about him being a bit old fashioned, he was about to show me how old fashioned he was by giving me a damned good spanking. Not for being boring but for calling him old fashioned. He chivvied me into the bedroom and had me jeans-down over his lap, with him sat on the corner of the bed, and gave me exactly what he'd promised without me having chance to get a word in. It hurt too and as it was entirely unexpected I fought against him which was useless of course.

Towards the end of th spanking, with my backside stinging severely and his right leg holding me tightly in position, I gave up struggling and started to enjoy it and then it stopped. Bloody well stopped! "Is that it?" I asked saucily as I got up and rubbed my bottom through my knickers, "Now who's boring..." I shouldn't have said it, I know, but I got an immediate thrill when he grabbed my hand and pulled it away from my bottom, then the other one and told me to stand just there hands at my sides while he got up and went to his side of the bed and withdrew the Leatherthorn paddle from under the mattress.

"Oh no P, please, I was only joking, couldn't you just use your hand it was very hard I was nearly in tears?" I lied.

He just came back to the corner of the bed and pulled me across his lap, this time pulling my knickers down to my thighs. I gasped. "Not like that please!" I begged.

"Yes exactly like this, see if you still think I'm boring after I've paddle your bare bottom for five minutes." And with that his right leg resumed its restraining position across the backs of my knees and my walloping re-started. It was pointless resisting, P is strong and he had me secured firmly so instead I whimpered and whined and apologised and begged him to be lenient but of course he didn't stop until he was satisfied he'd taught me lesson.

"Was that boring?" He asked.

"No, P," I sniffled.

"Good." he said as he helped me up and said he was going downstairs to watch TV for half an hour with a glass of wine. "Pull your knickers and jeans up and put your face straight and join me. Shall I pour you a glass?"

"Yes please," I said sheepishly. I'd hoped he might have fucked me after that, I mean we hadn't really had an argument or anything. He didn't but I know my husband and half an hour cosying up to him on the sofa while we watched the last of Graham Norton or whatever would most likely ensure that I got his attention, the sort that often follows a good spanking. I was right and we didn't even get as far as the end of Graham Norton:)

Have a good week.

Ronnie

xx

Nothing Glamorous about a Spanking

No the picture's not me but it kind of illustrates what caused me to get a very hot bottom.

I don't have any jeans with designer rips in them and if I took some scissors to a decent pair of jeans I'm sure I'd make a mess of them, then I'd cut a bit more to try and improve the damage and then I'd probably do a bit of tearing to try and make it look natural and of course

it wouldn't work at all and I'd just end up with one less pair of jeans.

Anyway I'm digressing. The girl in the picture obviously has stockings on under her jeans and I did too when we were rearranging some wall pictures to make space for one humongous wall mounted flat screen. Ridiculous really, our old Sony flat is perfectly good except for one thin orange line which appears vertically about a third of the way across the screen depending on the background. Our son can have it in his room if he wants it, otherwise the scrap man. We were going to paint the wall too while the pictures were down.

I wore a pair of tights with bold seams under my jeans, no knickers, and heels. Impractical of course but we had the house to ourselves, my husband was still in festive mood and I was feeling horny.

He noticed. When I bent forward or stretched, my jeans raised and exposed hose covered ankle.

"Have you got stockings on?"

"No, P."

"Well they look like stockings. And why wear heels, we'd get this lot sorted much quicker if you were dressed practically."

"I know we would."

"Come here." I did and he reached down and felt my ankle, rubbing his thumb appreciatively up and down the black seam.

"You have got stockings on, you naughty girl," he said as he stood and moved his hand over my thigh seeking the tell tale suspender fastener, "so where's the suspender?"

I didn't answer. He told me to stay there, he'd be back in a minute. He had our Leatherthorn paddle with him when he returned and he undid my jeans and put his hand inside. He didn't say anything, just Mmmm'd as he pulled them down and told me to step out of them. I had to kick my heels off to do it but he told me to put them back on. Then he sat on the sofa and pulled me across his lap. He told me it was entrapment, which made me laugh, he said it was true, I was making him do something he wouldn't normally be doing. I said it wasn't an offence though and he said I might change that opinion after ten minutes.

Then he started walloping me. It felt lovely to start with, I hadn't had the paddle for ages, and I'd never been spanked in heels. Nor tights, at least not for the whole of the spanking. It got hotter, very hot actually and I think the tights keep the heat in, they certainly don't provide any protection. About halfway through P stopped and fished his nokia from his pocket for a quick snap. He said the screen didn't show anywhere near the true redness, he'd try to improve it and then he resumed spanking. The loveliness and sexiness wore away during the second half, my heels flew off in the struggling and I was just feeling very naughty, which I suppose was quite right as I had set out to provoke, entice, entrap, call it whatever, my husband into dealing with me when we should have been doing other things.

When he stopped I gasped a sigh of relief, he snapped again with his nokia and showed me both images. I thought he'd made marks on me but he said it was just the pantyhose ruffling. I said "How unglamorous."

"There's nothing glamorous about a good spanking," said my husband sternly, "now put your jeans back on and let's get this job finished."

God, I was already starting to feel horny again but I thought I'd better do as I was told. This time I put my slippers on not the heels. The unglamorous snaps below are me by the way, you don't see me very often, I think P was right about the redness it doesn't look half like it felt.

Ronnie

xx

I got a dusting

I was reading comments the other day on our friend Season and Michael's blog about John, of Leatherthorn Paddles, and his superb customer service. I've never had direct dealings with John, although I have certainly had dealings with one of his products, but P had dealings with him at the time the product was acquired and agreed when I mentioned it that John was really helpful. Then he asked me if I knew where the product was, by the way, because he hadn't seen or more to the point used it in quite a while, he wondered if it would be gathering dust. He said that would be a pity and maybe he should dig it out for a 'dusting'.

I helpfully told him I keep dust bags in stock for storing handbags/ purses, they're a good size too with a neat drawstring top, maybe I could sell him one to keep the paddle in. Well it is leather. Good supple leather too! P laughed, I think he liked the idea of his wife trying to sell him a storage bag, he didn't pay me for one though, just said he'd rather let it get dusty and then spank me with it. I got a little shiver at the thought then the phone went and the subject was forgotten.

Or so I thought. Later at home and after dinner, P said he'd like me to come upstairs after I'd cleared away, he wanted my opinion on some gifts he'd bought for Christmas before he started wrapping them. I was absolutely un-prepared when I went into the bedroom and P was sat on the bed with John's Rose Paddle (the large size) in his hand. I still had my 'best mom in the world' apron on, P told me he'd found the paddle easy enough it was right under the bed, and there was dust on it and if there was dust on the paddle there must be dust under the bed and on any other items tucked under there. And dust was my department. And yeah you guessed it, I was messing up.

OK this was play and I knew it was, but I objected and started to make excuses, I mean a woman's pride and all that, but I still got pulled across his knee, jeans and pants taken down and paddled until I was kicking giggling wiggling and shouting in equal measure and on it went until P regarded the paddle to have been been adequately 'dusted'. My backside was toasty and P said a nice shade of crimson, then he told me to go and finish off in the kitchen, leave my jeans and pants in the bedroom, come back when I'd finished. He said I looked cute with a red backside and my apron on and he had a little something for me. God, dusting had never been such fun.

Fifteen minutes later I was getting his little something and it wasn't that little, in fact it felt really rather large as it pounded into me from the rear. P told me as we lay on the bed later that he hoped I'd learned my lesson. I certainly had. I was going to give him a couple of dust bags to keep his implements in, free of charge, but I'd changed my mind now. It was better to let them gather some dust.

Hope you all have a wonderful weekend.

Ronnie

xx