Smile of the Day

Heard that a few times - bet you have as well.

Ronnie

xx

Halloween Spanking

Hope our friends across the pond are safe. Please let us know.

Ronnie
xx

Shout up if the picture is yours so I can credit.

Cushion saved my bottom

We ate in town recently

and I was lucky enough to have a nice soft cushion to sit on.

Why? Well for two reasons 1) that I'd been spanked and 2) that the seat, or at least the one I was given, was hardwood and unpadded, like a little wooden throne and I had to ask the waiter for a cushion. I did! And didn't I blush when he brought it back and P was smiling at me. You can see part of the seat, part of me and part of the cushion in the photos below which my husband was kind enough to insist on taking with his phone which for some reason has stopped flashing hence the blurrdness.

The place we were eating is a little bistro over 300 years old, with beams and nooks and crannies and reasonable food but not a place to go after you've been spanked, unless you like being reminded of your spanking throughout your meal of course, in which case I suppose it's an excellent place as all the seating is either solid wood or straw seats on wooden frames.

What got me spanked was my own fault really, I'd been whingeing about P's untidy habits, not serious whingeing and I suppose not serious habits really, it was mostly about him kicking shoes off all over the place and never putting them away, he had sandals behind a chair here, brogues under a foot stool over there, espadrilles in the hallway, trainers by the fireplace, it goes on. I put them all away for him and when he came home he complained he couldn't find any of his shoes.

They're all upstairs, I told him, where they should be. And that was the end of the matter until it was close to going out time.

When it was nearly time to go out he wanted a pair of light slip-ons as it was quite warm (yes we had a few warm days). He couldn't find them and called me from upstairs to ask where they were; I hate when he does that, calling loudly from one room to another and expecting an answer, I mean it's rude as far as I'm concerned and if it became accepted as a norm well things would obviously get ridiculous so I didn't answer him. Nor when he shouted a second time. He didn't shout a third time, he came downstairs looking frustrated that he couldn't find his shoes and angry that I hadn't answered him.

"It's polite to answer people you know," said my barefooted husband.

"It's impolite to shout from room to room," I countered sweetly, "why not put another pair on you've got plenty to choose from and they're all in one place now."

"So you did hear me then."

"Yes P, I'm not deaf but I soon would be if we always shouted around the house."

My husband didn't seem impressed with my reasoning. He strode across the lounge, sat next to me on the sofa and started to pull me across his lap. I said no, please, I'm ready to go out, my trousers will get all creased, I'll be too hot, my hair'll get messed up.......you know the kind of things that sound like excuses to men but are serious issues to us girls. Anyway my husband doesn't let excuses stand in the way when he's decided a spanking is called for, he did make a concession though...he stood me up.

"Take your trousers right off, fold them and lay them somewhere neatly."

"I'll come and find your shoes, P, I'll do it now." I tried to escape but he wouldn't hear of it.

"The only thing you'll do now is take those trousers off or I'll do it for you and you won't like that."

I took them off, they were white linen which creases too easily, my knickers almost came down with them, they were the M&S no pantyline ones which are wispy as anything, but I pulled them back up. I stood there, I don't know why because I knew what had to happen, perhaps I just subconsciously like hearing his voice when he tells me to bend over his lap. He didn't actually say that, instead he said I'd better get across his lap if I knew what was good for me. I got across.

"And you might as well have let these go with your trousers for all they're worth," said P as he lowered my knickers to my thighs.

He spanked me hard and fast, have I ever told you my husband's hands are capable of inflicting considerable pain? I sometimes forget how strong they are, I mean he doesn't do manual work but his hands are still so bloody strong and I was struggling from the first spank. Of course it was no use, he just held me firmer and spanked harder,

No this one isn't me (I think a Red Charles picture but don't have a link)

it went on for some minutes and I could hear his breathing raised and my own struggling became so violent that my knickers ended round my ankles and I thought I heard them rip I was kicking so much.

When he finally stopped I just slumped, exhausted and sweaty, snuffling because I get a touch of hay fever but I'm sure it sounds to my nearest and dearest as if I'm crying.

"There, let that be a lesson to you, now you can go an fetch my shoes for me and we'll get going."

"P, I'll need a shower, I told you you'd make me all hot," I complained, "and look at my knickers the seam has split."

"You don't need a shower at all you'll cool down, the only thing that'll stay hot is your backside. Now go get my shoes or you'll be back across my knee."

I scooted off and up the stairs, knickers and trousers in hand. I found his shoes easily (what's wrong with men, they can find things when they're untidy) and then pulled my knickers on, I'll be taking them back to M&S by the way, and my trousers which felt somewhat tighter. I looked in the mirror and twisted round to see if there was a glow, there wasn't but it felt like there should be.

So, that was what got me into the situation where I needed a cushion. Now I haven't got time left to tell you about what we ate or talked about or how my husband's hand was on my bum as we walked through the town back to the car on a lovely balmy evening, or how I was so horny by the time we got home I think I could have come just from touching, or that our son's car was back in the drive when we parked up and he was inside with a girlfriend and I didn't get what I wanted, but at least I told you about the spanking:)

Ronnie

xx

Spanked for Being Late

I sympathise (nose getting longer) with this poor girl.......

Click for larger pics.

Bet she wont be late again.......or maybe she will.

No computer access today and two family celebrations over the weekend so may not be around much. Catch up when I can.

Have a good one.

Ronnie

xx

What Drought?

You remember I posted about having had a spanking drought for a while and then Easter weekend P spanked me twice the same day just because he wanted to.

Well he wanted to again on Monday. It was a public holiday here and our son had gone up to Chester to have lunch with some uni friends, the weather was beautiful, the buzz from the royal wedding had worked its way through the media (not too soon for P, he's not a monarchist at heart) and then Monday morning we got the Osama demise story which rightly eclipsed all other news. Added to that P had received some good news from a friend in South Africa about some goings on in Namibia, gobbledygook to me but it seemed to make P happy so I was happy too.

'Do you remember last weekend when I spanked you?' He asked. I did, and what happened after.

'I'm going to do it again.' I looked away so that he wouldn't see the smile on my lips and asked what I'd done wrong. 'Nothing at all,' he said, 'in fact you've been very good. Too good for your own good in fact... if that makes sense.' It didn't make sense at all but then he added that in any case he just wanted to.

So he gave me the cane.

His hand

And to top it off the lovely John's paddle

Not necessarily in the right order you might think, and I would agree, but it suited the somewhat eccentric ridiculousness of the occasion. He didn't 'do me' as it were afterwards, worse luck, but he did suggest we went for a walk on the Chase, which we did and where he bought us both ice creams from a mobile van and I exaggerated how sore my posterior was and made sure I went in front of him on the up hills where it was single track. Before returning to the car we stopped at a small pub overlooking the hills and sat outside in the sunshine with a couple of beers, we hadn't been there for ages and it was under new ownership. P said we should come back in the evening for a bite to eat in their restaurant, it had been refurbished and looked nice, so we did.

You know it really pays off being good sometimes.

Ronnie

xx

A good wife

I woke around 5.30 am which isn't unusual as I'm normally awake at that time even though our alarm is set for 6.30, I was restless, thought about waking P, decided it was too early and as it was Saturday I snuggled back down.

I must have dozed because when I looked at the clock again it was nearly 6.30. I switched the alarm off. P was still sleeping so I decided to wake him personally, I moved my hand across to his chest, traced lightly around his right nipple, and tip-toed down over his stomach.. mmmmm, as I'd hoped... he had a hard on, I know about these early morning hardons, I've encountered them before, I love them and over the years I've found many ways to deal with them.

I started teasing, softly, running my fingers up and down, I felt him stir but carried on until I knew I had got his attention, then he whispered "do you know it's naughty to wake a man when he's sleeping'' but I just murmured and resumed my activity, I didn't feel any resistance, no strong hand reached out to stop me, no stern ''you'd better stop that now'', just his manhood stiffening further, a good morning stretch and massage, and when I sensed him about to turn towards me I stopped him and said no, and instead slid further under the duvet increasing my ministrations to match the involuntary rhythm building in his hips. My wicked intention of sating my morning lust with great gulps of man come was thwarted when his penis started pulsing urgently and I had to take matters in hand as it were, smiling contentedly when I felt the first hot creamy spurt discharge, the after spurts coating my fingers as I continued to pump the last drops. Well it hadn't gone quite as I'd intended but I'd nevertheless achieved my objective and in short time too, so off for a shower I went.

Perfect, I thought, what a good wife I am and then when I returned to the bedroom....what a good husband I have... as there was P sitting up in bed with the OTK cane in his hand "Back into bed'' he instructed, and a deliciously stingful spanking ensued, which left me more lustful than ever and there was no sex to sort me out, sometimes I like that. P took his shower and went happily off to the office whistling something or other.

Ah well, isn't it correct for a good wife to send her man off to work with a smile on his face?

Ronnie

xx

Wearing boys pants can get you spanked

Our family bathroom is way overdue for re-decorating, there's some flaking paint on the skirting. So on Saturday I told P I'd give it a quick lick of paint, only take an hour or so while he was at the office.

I put a pair of P's old underpants on and then joked to him that as I was doing boys work (I know it's not only boys work) better dress appropriately. "Wat do you mean", those aren't my jeans".

So I loosened the button and pulled the waistband of his pants up for him to see what I was wearing underneath my jeans. He doesn't wear them anymore they're years old, I keep them in my drawer because there's a story attached to them, anyway there was soon to be another one, or so I hoped, short sharp and sweet. He took the bait. ''Well you can take your jeans right off and come with me into the bedroom before you get started, I can see you're in a cheeky mood and I wouldn't want you doing a less than exemplary job so I think five minutes across my knee should help you take it seriously. You'll get the 'boys' work done with a sore bottom, and you'd better do a good job or it'll be the bath brush when I get back from the office''.

Now this was all in good fun as you can imagine from my telling but even so the spanking was carried out with P's customary efficiency and I did indeed have to get on with it with my cheeky bum well warmed, I enjoyed it too and looked forward to his return, making sure I'd missed a few bits. I got the work done minus the missed bits, left the brush out, silly dizzy me not knowing it needs to be washed.

Then what happened, our son came home unexpectedly early, I called to watch out there's wet paint in the bathroom and went about some ironing. Twenty minutes later son appeared in the kitchen, ''You missed a couple of bits, Mom, I filled them in for you and cleaned the brush up.'' And with a peck on the cheek he went to put the brush and paint away in the garage.

When P returned a bit later he said I'd done a good job, he probably figured the threat of the bathbrush may have helped, I told him actually I hadn't done a great job at all, I'd missed some and if it hadn't been for our son the paintbrush would have dried up and gone rock hard. He just smiled and said oh well it all turned out fine so no problem.

Well maybe it wasn't a problem for him but I'd been primed and I'd been looking forward to a telling off from that bathbrush for my girlie carelessness and it didn't happen. And I was horny as hell for the rest of the day.

Ronnie

xx

Red Bottom Green Fingers

Beautiful weather the last few days, at least in our part of the country, unusual as its a long weekend, I think later today its going to revert to normal British bank holiday weather. Never mind, it'll water in the summer flowers we planted yesterday. Not that I've got green fingers, and certainly not P, but the extra colour is nice and should last right through summer and hopefully several barbecues.

 

I think the sunshine put P in holiday mode because when I came down for breakfast yesterday he was browsing the Ryanair site tut-tutting about all sneaky charges they make.

''Ooh are we going somewhere?''

''Just checking,'' he said. He doesn't just check so he obviously had something mind.

''Do I need to get me bikini out?''

''I'll give you plenty of notice for that. I think you need to get bikini fit before you worry about fishing it out,'' he was smiling as he said it, even so my hand went to my tummy which doesn't seem to respond to running, dieting, crunches which I always cheat on anyway or anything else I try to flatten it. If I diet too much then I lose weight from areas I don't want to lose weight from, in particular my backside which he forbids me to lose weight from.

 

We have a scale in the kitchen and he heard me get on it.

''Well? How's it looking?'' He shouted through.

''I'm er a tad over my average, well according to this scale anyway,'' I said making a mental note to check the bathroom scale later. But actually you don't need a scale to tell you when you're a bit up or a bit down and I knew I was a bit up, about three pounds up actually. He came into the kitchen and asked me to get back on, he made sure the needle was set to nil first. Hmm definite lack of control in the weight department, he concluded.

''You better report to my office after breakfast,'' he said. He always calls it 'his' office not 'the' office when he's going to spank me. The guilty stomach flipped, its owner finished her breakfast, a little less cereal than usual, and made her way up to his office where he was reading mail, another little thing he does when he wants to appear serious, he wouldn't have a flights page or a yummy Spanish beach resort on display, he likes it to seem like I'm disturbing his work, an errant girl reporting to him, a nuisance, he'll have to stop what he's doing to deal with her.

 

''Ah good, you're here,'' he said still looking at his inbox, ''close the door please and wait there.''

He turned round after a couple more minutes and told me he was thinking maybe we could squeeze a long weekend, possibly even a week, in between now and August, not business just R&R, but he could see I'd got some work to do if I was to feel comfortable on the beach. Ha! whatever the truth of his words, no girl likes to be told she needs to shape up a bit so I told him he should take a look at his own weight. I think it didn't go down well, he pushed his chair back from the desk, reached back for my arm and pulled me right alongside him my knees touching the chair edge and his right thigh. We have a small sofa type seat in the office, it converts to an occasional bed, it's the other side of his upright chair and when he positions his chair close enough I can land my upper body on it, it's safe and it facilitates longer spanking without un-necessary discomfort, except to my bottom of course. He'd positioned his chair just right so I knew he was going to take me forcefully across his lap any minute and I knew it would last a while.

''Well I think I can see I'm going to have to help you shape up seeing as you're not doing very well yourself,'' he said.

''I think it might be that scale downstairs,'' I said unconvincingly. He didn't even reply, just pulled me sharply across his knee. He adjusted his position presumably for maximum swing and then laid into my backside. No warmup, not like maintenance, just straight in, my cotton shorts didn't offer much protection and my bum was soon burning and I was writhing and telling him in between 'ouches' and 'no, pleases' that I'd be trying harder, increasing my runs, cutting down wine that was the culprit, it was wine, it wasn't my fault at all, we'd had several social occasions and wine was always there.

''No excuses, I'm not interested in excuses, I want to see results, in fact I'll be expecting to see results and you can be sure I'll be checking and you can expect to get spanked good and hard each time I check and find you're over your average,''

''Maybe we could adjust my average,'' I volunteered. He ignored my suggestion but the spanking stopped.

''Now lift your hips a little for me,'' he ordered. I did. His hands came round to unclasp the waistband and they were pulled down round my thighs in a flash. The spanking resumed, harder.

''This is for trying to divert attention from your own shortcomings by suggesting my own weight could be looked at. I will take a look at it but I won't have you trying to use it to help your own situation, do you understand?''

''Yes...SLAP...YESS!!!!... SLAP.....I do understand, I do.

''And this will help you remember your manners.'' ......SLAP....OUCH!....''PLEASE......really I will remember my manners and I will sort out the excess...OUCH... really I WILL!''

 

He spanked me for a further five minutes at least, and five minutes is a long time when you're bare bottomed over a man's lap getting lectured and spanked. I think he ran out of things to lecture about because the last two minutes were pure spanks and my bottom and upper thighs were on fire by the time he stopped.

 

'''Well I hope we'll see some improvement soon now that I've taught you a lesson,'' he said. It was a statement and a question, I told him I'd be trying my best and I'd be grateful for his help, he started stroking my tortured cheeks, hmmming in satisfied way. I started murmuring deeply in a not-yet-satisfied-but-hoping-to-be way and wriggling my bum appreciatively. He told me that as I'd apparently learned my lesson I could get up and we could get on with more pleasant matters, I had a moment of doubt, I shouldn't have, his hand stayed on my bum as I got up, he steadied me, stood up himself, shoved his laptop aside and bent me forward across his desk. I was very wet and horny as hell and I squealed with delight as his cock rammed into me, his thighs slamming hard against my punished bottom and I came in no time stifling a scream as I could hear kids playing outside. P wasn't done, he followed half a minute later and when I felt him spurt into me I came again and then collapsed across his desk.

 

So it was with a sore bottom that a well sated but a tad overweight girl got the planting done and overall had a very pleasant day indeed.

 

Ronnie

xx 

Those old Fishnets..

...thank God I didn't trash them!

Saturday things were back to normal and I got a good harder than expected spanking. And deserved it.

P was at the office as usual, I called him to ask what time he'd be home and remind him to bring some copy paper with him. He told me he'd be on his way soon so I shot upstairs to rifle through my underwear drawer and fish out my fishnets, so to speak. Found them but they were damaged on the left leg, a rip about 10'' had appeared, don't know how, certainly don't remember doing it last time I wore them. Anyway I put them on. Sans knickers.

Downstairs I laid a few extra cushions on the sofa, when I heard P's car on the drive I stretched out on them, lying on my left side to hide the unglamorous lesion. P's face showed instant pleasure as he walked through the door, I hadn't forgotten and nor had he, followed quickly by a frown followed by Mr Stern. He came across to me, turned me fully onto my stomach and noticed the tear in my tights. Oh dear, now P really doesn't like slovenliness, he's totally ok about casual but not about scruffiness, unkempt, or neglect, he often tells me to put my pants straight that sort of thing.

So he grabbed my arm and pulled me up off the sofa, settled himself where I'd warmed it and pulled me back immediately across his knee to teach me a lesson about the importance of dressing correctly, never mind that it was a completely informal occasion between just the two of us; that made it even more important in his mind and I should have taken the trouble to make sure my attire was ship shape. Oh well, lazy girl me after all then, I taunted, and I suppose it was true, I should have checked them out earlier in the week. P had me quite convinced it was true after a couple of minutes getting my backside warmed and I told him he was right and I was SORRY really I was, as he ripped the tights down and picked up the pace on my bare bum.

He kept telling me he wouldn't tolerate slackness, laziness, lack of self respect whatever, he ranted on making me feel really quite guilty and apologising repeatedly as he supercharged my globes. I really hadn't expected things to go quite like this but I have to say I enjoyed it very much and after I'd squiggled through a good ten mins of bare bottom correction for my wicked oversight he took me upstairs and gave me a sound doggy style rogering while my fishnets languished around my knees.

Phew! Replete, flushed, scolded, scalded, delighted. Later in the afternoon we went shopping, he made me go buy a new pair of fishnets from M&S (for those not familiar with UK shopping, M&S is a regular store, not transposed S&M:)).

But frankly, I'd rather keep the old ones if that's what they get me.

Ronnie
xx