New Year Resolution / I really mean it ???

Does anybody ever keep them? I've made loads in the past but unfortunately never recorded them so I can't really look back and judge myself. Some were probably frivolous anyway, especially those made in the company of friends on top of several glasses of wine and in the party atmosphere which surrounds the annual occasion. But one I made this year, privately to my husband, and not verbally or indeed on NYE itself but a day later by Whatsapp. It got me spanked. Hard.

You see we bantered a bit about things we wanted to do in the year ahead but that was all. P was supportive of a couple of the things I suggested, I don't know if they'll happen, one was visiting the US which appeals a lot to me but not so much to him because he doesn't like long flights. Anyway next day we were apart and I got a message from him saying it would be OK with him if I wanted to visit the US alone, I think it was because he'd been talking with his brother whose girlfriend travels between Colombia and the UK alone frequently and think nothing of it. So I told him thanks and we'd see how things go (have a few other things going on this year) He told me back that we have to make things happen, not 'see how they go' which was for bystanders. Then after a few minutes I messaged him again and told him something I intend to do in the year ahead, something I have wondered about from time to time and more recently read a lot more about: I told him I intended to spank him this year. And added 'how's that for not being a bystander:)'.

I almost regretted it when I pressed send. There was no reply. I googled how to unsend a Whatsapp message, stupid I know.

When he got home a few hours later he told me he wanted to see me upstairs, he'd got my message and he wanted to discuss it with me. I asked if I should bring a cup of tea up but he said it wouldn't be that sort of discussion. He wasn't at all cross looking, if anything I'd say he'd been mildly amused by my message. So a few minutes later I followed him upstairs, I guessed he'd be in the office for the type of 'discussion' he had in mind. Bedroom if it's sex driven, office if it's 'discussion' driven. He'd cleared some of his stuff to the side of the desk and our razor strop lay on it. He was seated in the middle of our futon. I went to draw the desk chair out to sit on and face him for our discussion but he told me not to bother I wouldn't need it for our discussion and he doubted I would want to sit on it after.

First he asked me if it had been a joke. I said plainly No.

"Unbuckle your belt then."

He asked me what had inspired me to make such an outrageous suggestion. I told him it wasn't outrageous, lots of women did it, I see websites and blogs all the time when researching my 'In-with-the-new' data, there were more than ever. I put my hand on my hips waiting for a response.

"Don't stop, stud and zipper, and jeans off and be quick about it my girl. If that's the sort of stuff you're looking at I think you need a sharp reminder of who does the spanking in this household and always will."

I got my jeans off and kicked them aside. I told him I knew who did the spanking I wasn't challenging his authority or anything like that, it was just for us both to know...to experience it properly.

"Over my knee, my girl, now! If that's the sort of subversive reading you're doing  you're way overdue a very sore bottom and if it carries on after I'll have to consider restricting your time on the Internet."

OMG that did it for me, I gave him a mouthful about what he could and couldn't do and stopping me - really STOPPING - me from doing anything I truly wanted to do was a big no-no as he'd find out if he ever tried doing it.

SPANK SPANK SPANK..."You'll do as you're told"...SPANK SPANK SPANK.."so save your breath I don't want o hear any more of your nonsense." And he pulled my knickers down to my knees and spanked away while I remonstrated indignantly and wriggled futilely, objecting that he couldn't order me around and I wasn't a child, using much un-unchildly language which didn't help my case. My bare bottom was an inferno after ten minutes of discussion. He stopped and asked me if I'd learnt my lesson. I told him if he thought spanking my backside so hard that I thought I'd lost feeling in it would alter my thinking then he had another think coming.

"And don't you dare ever threaten me with restrictions again," I said. "And I can assure you I won't do as I'm told," I added for good measure.

"I was afraid of that," said P. And he lifted me up from his lap and took me over to the desk. "You really do need a sound lesson, don't you," he said as he pushed me forward and told me to hold the far side of the desk and not to let go until he told me I could.

He made me put my tummy down flat on the desk but then had to ask me to raise it again because it was covering the razor strop. It made him seem a bit silly and I almost laughed but I didn't feel like laughing when the stropping started. And if I'd thought my bottom had been numbed the razor strop soon convinced me that I'd been wrong. It stung like hell even though I'm sure it wasn't the hardest ever and the right side of my bottom got the worst of it because there wasn't room for him to strop from both sides. So I was twisting away to the left and yelling out loud and swearing at him all at the same time, I didn't care if people outside could hear, not that I saw any passers-by but I knew many of our neighbours had house-guests and was sure some might hear. Maybe they'd think it was kids playing. I was pleading with him to stop eventually and saying I was sorry repeatedly near the end, which of course I didn't know was the end until it happened. Then it went quiet apart from my panting and P's breathing as he relaxed from his efforts.

He told me to pull up my knickers and put my jeans back on. I stood and pulled my knickers up with my back to him. I asked him to pass me my jeans please and put my hand back for them, I remained looking out of the window. I still didn't want to turn round. Neither of us had said anything. He put my jeans onto the desk in front of me and then his hands were on my shoulders and upper arms. Warm strong hands, I sniffled my nose a bit as I felt them but resisted the urge to turn round and bury myself in his chest.

"Now have you learned your lesson?" He asked softly. I said I had but then I turned round and looked right up into his eyes, I didn't care if they were watery.

"But I'm still going to spank you this year. And I really mean it." I felt quite proud of myself for standing my ground. The only response I got was "Hmmm", then he kissed my forehead and told me to come down after I'd put my jeans on and calmed down. He said was going downstairs to make some tea and he was away out of the office.

We didn't discuss at all what had happened. My backside was sore for more than an hour. Later, in the evening, we had hot sticky unstoppable sex in the lounge.

As for my resolution, well the year is very young.

Have a good week.

Ronnie
xx

PS I did spank my husband many years ago, it was in fun, I wrote about it. He didn't like it but he was hard after it, that may just have been because he sensed sex in the air, I didn't know and still don't. Perhaps I will by this time next year:) 

Razor strops hurts

Well they are supposed to, aren't they, when they're applied to someones bottom. I got one applied to mine so I can vouch for it.

We've been decorating. Altering some space and completely redecorating our smallest bedroom which doubles as our home office. P wasn't keen on doing it but his back was better and once he got started he was fine and even happy to come with me to choose wall coverings and I got my way on colours and designs, less stark than his preferences. What he didn't realise was that it would need new blinds and curtains too, to match the new colours. Oh and a carpet of course. He said the old ones were OK, they didn't look old, but I was adamant so we found some ready made curtains and blinds and he took it graciously enough. I didn't mention the carpet, that will come later in the week.

Anyway I like working alongside my husband when we're doing practical jobs and I do my best to be useful and match him for effort and professionalism. Some work he's just faster and better at so he gets on with it and I provide support services helping where I can and making cups of tea. One thing I had done completely on my own was paining the ceiling, skirtings and stripping the walls, taking picture hooks out removing curtain rail and blind. I also took out the brass curtain tie-back hook which P hangs our razor strop from and that was what got me into trouble.

I'd put everything neatly in the adjoining guest room, even the screws I put in a little empty tray. But somehow the brass hook got lost, I don' know how, maybe I threw it out with the trash. So when P had finished covering the walls and time came for putting fittings back up, he asked me for it. First thing I asked was do we really need it up there on the wall again but he just looked at me as if I was stupid, so I went and retrieved the strop and brought it back to him.

"Where's the hook?" He asked. I told him I couldn't find it, I didn't know what I'd done with it.

"Well it's the hook I need not the razor strop. So go back and find it, it hasn't got legs, it must be somewhere," he said. "Don't come back without it or I might need the strop after all." 

It was obvious to me that I would be returning without it and his little threat was said in a playful way which sent a thrill through me. There's something about doing practical work with your partner, be it outside or inside, labouring, sharing physical effort, brief touches as you glide past one another, it always makes me horny or at least on the edge of horny. So I went back empty handed and said I was sorry but the hook was somehow just not there, it was lost. P thought I was lying because I didn't want the razor strop re-hung, which wasn't the case at all. He told me to go and fetch it immediately, he wanted to get it fixed on the wall. I just stood there, hands on hips, I suppose a bit defiant, I mean I'd said what I'd said and it had been the truth.

"Are you going to fetch it or not?" P asked.

"I can't do what isn't possible," I answered.

"Then I shall do what definitely is possible," he said, "and when I've done it perhaps you'll be able to do as you're told." Oh god, do as I'm told, P you use such simple sexy outdated language.

My husband picked up the razor strop, took me by the arm and marched me into our bedroom. I only had one of his t-shirts and shorts on. He bent me over our bed and pulled my shorts down, his t-shirt flopped down to cover my bottom so he pulled that up to my shoulders. I gasped "Please no, P, I don't have any knickers on." As if that would make any difference. Damsel in distress me:)

I know when P is going to give me a really hard spanking and this didn't feel like one of those times although he told me afterwards he really had thought I'd been lying about losing the hook. He spanked me hard enough to make me yelp, about a dozen times across my bottom, and threw the strop on the bed. I made to get up but felt his hands on my shoulders and his groin against my bottom. He was hard, I could feel his cock through his cotton shorts, good he must be feeling perky just like me, I thought. I pushed my bottom back as the length of his erection, which was now vertical inside the thin cotton of his shorts was nestling between my cheeks. Then he pulled the elasticated front of his shorts down and I winced as the waistband scraped roughly over my cheeks and then, his cock freed from its restriction, I felt him hot and slippery around my entrance. He didn't need to push, I did it for him, reversing onto him and making him shout with joy. I was wet but still tight and we fucked like teenagers and both came in seconds, him with a roar and me a scream. We collapsed onto the bed.

"I really have lost the hook you know, I wasn't lying," I said.

"Oh don't worry about that, I guess it doesn't really have to go back exactly how we had it before." 

"What! Now you tell me? So that spanking needn't have happened?" I asked reaching back and fondling his now limp cock.

"Oh it definitely needed to happen," he said, "better to spank first and find out the truth later," he laughed.

"Do put it back, please P, we'll get another hook." I said and snuggled against him.

We cleared down after that and both had showers. It was late in the day and we ate out at the Indian restaurant in town, the one that makes Indian food posh but without the posh prices. A lovely day.

Bank holiday here in the UK so were out with family for the day. Have a good week.

Ronnie

xx     

Too hot to get spanked

It's what I said to my husband last week when I saw the razor strop lying on the desk in our little office. He was already in the office but not standing waiting for me and, in fairness, he hadn't 'summoned' me. He was sitting on the futon with his laptop on his lap engrossed in something or other, I later learnt it was to do with our LAN which is malfunctioning. So I suppose I was jumping the gun a bit when I said what I said.

"Who said anything about spanking?" He asked. I told him seeing the razor strop

just made me think..you know.

"Ah well, it's not there for that reason, it's there because I pulled it when I moved the desk to retrieve the operator guide for the printer which had fallen down the back. I loosened the hook which I need to re-fix which I'll do after I've got the printer online again (we've been having a few tech problems)." Then he added, "But it's never to hot for a spanking. If I decide one's necessary one happens regardless of the weather."

"Oh I see," I said, both disappointed and relieved. It really was hot, not that I'm complaining, shorts and t-shirt weather suits me. Anyway emboldened by his explanation I stuck my bottom out and wiggled it a bit. I think if he hadn't been hell bent on getting to the bottom of the printer's refusal to talk with my ipad, he probably would have spanked me for being cheeky, a friendly spanking you understand, as he was in quite a chirpy mood considering he hates tech problems.

So I went back downstairs. Five minutes later I heard his drill so he was presumably making a deeper fixing for the little brass wall hook. Five minutes after that he came downstairs too. He announced that our printer was crap, it's a Canon and it prints great but it isn't air print enabled so no amount of tinkering will let me use my ipad on it and for some reason my laptop has lost its ability to communicate with it since P put a new router in last week. It talks with his laptop but not mine. Crazy. He said we'll replace it but I said why not replace my laptop as it's getting a bit old.

"That's the trouble with devices," he said, "you get something malfunctioning then fix it but if you've introduced something new and something else doesn't like it, another problem can show up which didn't exist previously and so on. Frustrating."

"I'm sure a big strong man like you will be able to sort it out," I said. "...Eventually," I added for good measure. He knew I was teasing him.

"You know what, I think I'll borrow another laptop and just test it and if that works then maybe we will replace yours. So if you need printing done use mine. But for right now, as you're clearly taking the matter lightly and making a bit of fun at my efforts, I'll take a little break and have a bit of fun of my own."

He sat next to me on the sofa, dragged me across his knee, pulled my shorts down and spanked me. It was several minutes before he stopped and not before he'd made me squeal.

"Still too hot to get spanked?" He asked, sounding pleased with himself.

I rolled toward his hips pressing my left buttock against his cock which was rigid.

"You mustn't have heard me correctly, P, you were so engaged with that nasty technical stuff upstairs," I said smiling, "didn't you hear the 'never' bit?" I was lying of course but that didn't matter. Then I added, "It's never too hot for a fucking either."

I got one, over the back of the sofa, with a few more slaps for good measure and it was a hot one indeed and I was struggling frantically even as I was coming, to pull my shorts back up as far as I could to to catch the mess. See how a woman's mind works even in the throes of ecstasy:)

Ronnie

xx 

Stropped but not stroppy

No, definitely not stroppy, not after becoming acquainted with our (my husband's actually - he refers to it as 'his' now) new razor strop. I apparently had been stroppy before, while we were at the shops and during lunch which consisted of a roll eaten on the hoof against my wishes. Just because P didn't want anything at all and so refused go in anywhere.

I didn't get the shopping I wanted either so that made matters worse. And he wouldn't take me into Chester, only a stone's throw from Manchester where we'd stayed overnight. He said the presentation we'd attended at the Macdonalds  (the hotel not the burgers) had been a waste of time, no point wasting even more time. Unreasonable. I mean he'd booked it, it was for him not me, I was a hanger-on, hanging on for the shopping which hadn't been promised but was expected. So we left Manchester, me with only a tiny bag and a crap lunch and made for the M6, me in a surly mood.

Half way down the motorway I still wasn't answering properly or volunteering conversation. We got to the Stafford turn-off and P asked me if I wanted to go there. I told him men didn't understand at all about shopping, why would I go to Stafford when I could have been at Cheshire Oaks. I remained moody. Then he told me he would deal with me when we got home, I was acting childishly he said. I resisted the temptation to fire something back.

Ten minutes from home I started talking, pleasantly, to lighten the atmosphere. He noticed and told me it wouldn't change anything. I explained I'd just felt a bit let down and was grumpy because I hadn't got what I wanted, I suppose hadn't go my own way really. I said I was sorry, he told me I would be.

We got in, I went to put our stuff away but he told me to do it later and to follow him up to the office. "I know how to deal with bad tempered girls," he said as he led the way up the stairs. I knew he did and I knew how and while the tone of his voice and authoritative manner excited me, I felt butterflies because I knew I'd been a bit of a bitch earlier and I sensed this wasn't likely to be one of those sexy little spankings but more likely the cane which he keeps in the office. I was wrong.    

In the office he told me to close the door and un-belt my jeans, take them down to my thighs and kneel on the seat of the futon, bending over the back and touching the wall. As I was doing it he removed the razor strop from its brass hook next to his desk and uncoupled the business end so the leather separated from the linen. I said "Oh no, P, please not with that." I'd been expecting it to be used ever since it arrived but not in these circumstances. Funny how you get things fixed in your mind. "Perhaps you should cane me, I mean that hasn't been tested." What sort of idiot was I, asking for the cane. Lol.

Anyway I got my first taste of the razor strop. P pulled my knickers down to join my jeans and I got it from slightly above and the side so it impacted at a diagonal and it didn't seem too hard at first but then I realised P was getting the measure of it. After a few strokes across each buttock which made me squirm, he moved position and bent a little lower so that the strop could land almost horizontally against both buttocks with much more force and an almighty THWACK! I don't know if it was the thwack or the fierce sting which shocked me the most but I screamed out and reached my hands back. "Hands on the wall," my husband barked. "Now!"

I did as I was ordered and received several more strokes which made me OUWWWWW!! and PLEEEEASE NO! and stretch up the wall to try and embed my bottom into the soft seat back to escape the ferocity. It didn't work. P stopped but only to switch sides so that the strop could even up from right to left. It didn't hurt so much from that side because P's right handed and couldn't control it as easily. He realised then straighted up and started spanking diagonally again, more confident strokes which made me howl. He stopped after about 20 or so strokes, neither of us was keeping check, and stood back surveying his work. He told me I was very lucky he hadn't had time to gain more experience or I'd have got it a lot harder. He said it had wrapped a bit around my right cheek and asked me how I felt. "I can't feel where it's wrapped," I said. "It just feels burning hot all over." I had my best post petulance voice on and I asked if I could put my hands there now, it hurt so much. He stepped forward and laid the palm of his hand on each side, declaring it was 'warm enough for this occasion'.

P told me I could get up and to pull my knickers and jeans up, no rubbing, and to go and make us both a cup of tea. He said he hoped there would be no more bad temper from me or I knew what I'd get. There wasn't but it wasn't long before I was invaded by horniness and almost wished there had been. On the evening, because he hadn't eaten lunch and maybe because he wanted to please me, he asked if I fancied having a bite to eat in town, something we hardly ever do on a Sunday night. It was lovely.

I think I liked the strop, it covers more ground than the belt and stings more than the leatherthorn but less than a cane, or at least in a different way. P said he will use it a lot harder but he'll have me lie flat next time he uses it. I asked when will that be but he just smiled and said, "Next time you deserve it." 

A big thank you to my dear friend for the new addition to our his toy box.

Happy Valentine's Day

Whatever you're doing - have a wonderful day/evening.

Ronnie

xx    

Let me know if the picture is yours.

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