Coulpe of smiles for today

I'm sorry, I know I was rude to Henry but please, do you have to cane me now, in front of him?

I'd love a plate like this one. P and R TTWD.

Ronnie
xx

How She Feels.....

.....before, during and after being spanked.

Before...

A deep arousing sensation wells up inside my lower abdomen when you firmly tell me you are going to spank me. It is partly sexual in origin, partly emotional. The sexual part changes, it stays sexual but that doesn't mean I want sex, which I don't.

The sexual aspect has to do with being over your knee, close to your body. It has to do with you baring my bottom for what you will do and seeing it vulnerable. It is the feel of your firm hands touching me, holding me down. It is knowing we will share loving feelings when it is over.

Emotionally, it is knowing you are in charge and will handle my behavior and make decisions without my input. It is a pleasurable feeling to have you deciding how I will be disciplined—comforting at some distant level. The nature of this pleasure is what draws me to you, allows me to give consent for you to take control. I know it will hurt, but I will never be hurt.

It is wonderful to have such trust in each other. We do not get an opportunity for that very often—to have complete trust in another person. It is rare and unique. I do not consciously think these thoughts each time—my body's sensation is enough to flood me with a sense of well being. It leaves a smile inside me.

During...

Fear—definitely fear—not of you, but of what you must do. Excitement... as I go over your knee, as my panties are being pulled down, when I feel your leg go over mine to pin me in place... giving up control to you... moving to a place where I have to obey... where you are in charge, and I will be cared for and taken care of, where I feel you totally engaged with me.

Pain... while the actual spanking is happening, I think of very little else but the pain. I am begging for it to stop, I mean it, I want to make you stop but you mustn't stop, we both know it. I just hurts so badly, I have an almost overwhelming urge to interfere with the paddling, my hand, kicking, I want a pillow on my backside, so you cannot spank my bare bottom. I want to jerk my bottom out of your reach, but I am trapped solidly between your legs and arm, and I want so much to cry in desperation, to let you know how it feels but not to stop you.

When it is a truly hard spanking, I feel such helplessness that I cannot interfere with it. I can only choose surrender to your discipline, until it is done. Then toward the end, fear wells up again, as I always think the last spanks will surely be the worst. I wait for those, wanting them to come, but not wanting to feel them, great ambivalence. I am never angry, never. Instead, at the end, I am tired and often in tears but refreshed, content.

After...

I need you. Total surrender leaves me very vulnerable. I feel little and tender. I want you to hold me, tightly. I need your arms around me. I want to talk, cry on your chest. I feel deeply connected. A very peaceful calm stays with me for a very long time, if it has been an emotional experience, which it always is. It is one of my most powerful experiences, it changes me. It creates a calmness within me that radiates a joyful existence. I notice it every day.

The burning in my bottom is incessant but it becomes pleasant. If it is tender the next day, I am happy. I enjoy looking at the redness, I enjoy you looking at it if I am in the corner. Sometimes I need you to spank me again. It never hurts as much the second time, at least not quite as much. If I haven't cried the first time I almost certainly will now.

There are really no negatives to a discipline spanking, except the spanking itself, but even this is not true. I like that too but not in a way I can easily express. I like the touch, the firmness, the certainty even though it is so painful; it is a path to a place I need to go with the one who holds my deepest trust.

I have quite a few snippets, stories, spanking articles and pictures sent to me by readers and other bloggers, Some for my eyes and some for sharing.  I really liked it and had to share. My reader can't remember where she found it so I hope the author doesn't mind me sharing it here. Please, if it's yours, let me know so I can give credit or remove if that's your wish.

Have a fun weekend.

Ronnie
xx

New to Spanking

Have a good week.

Ronnie

xx

Silliness or a Sore Arse

I was asked which was best, silliness or a sore arse, about an hour after being spanked to the edge of tears for the former. Let me explain.

For a start the 'silliness' was the term applied to my attitude after I was told, over a snack lunch in Eat in Birmingham, that I wouldn't be getting a mini winter break. It started with me remonstrating that I'd virtually been promised one (not actually true) and it wasn't fair and then going silent and walking several paces behind my husband on the way back to the car. The silence remained for the forty minute journey home. The sore arse was what I ended up with twenty minutes after getting into the house.

I wasn't even allowed to put my shopping away, it could wait till later said P, he wanted me upstairs, in our little office. Now! He barked the now and it made me feel butterflies. He also took the stairs two at a time which made me think forcefulness, power, energy. I followed meekly. I hesitated at the office door and he called me in and told me to close it, which I did. He'd pulled the chair out from under the desk and placed it near the futon settee we have in there (it doubles as a tiny stopover spare room).

"How long's the silent stuff going on for, then?" He asked. I stayed silent and straightened up, I think I looked at him defiantly in spite of myself.

"Well let me tell you then," he said as he unbuckled my jeans belt and unfastened the stud and zipper, "it's not going to go on for very much longer at all."

He made to sit down but then changed his mind and went to the right hand drawer of the desk to pull out the wooden ruler. 

Then he returned to the chair, sat and lowered my jeans to my thighs and told me to get across his knees with my arms on the seat of the futon. He didn't have to tell me that, I've been there before. I didn't move.

"If I have to pull you across you'll get double and after that you'll go across my desk and I'll cane your bottom so hard you won't be sitting for the rest of the day." I made a sound, I think it was like a whimper but deeper and clenched my legs together as if I wanted a wee. I got across my husband's lap. He pulled my long t shirt up over my bottom, he didn't say anything, then he pulled my knickers down to me knees after wrestling with them a bit to get them past when my thighs weighed against his.

"I don't need silly childish behaviour from you," SPANK SPANK, "you're an adult and should act like one," SPANK SPANK SPANK, "but if you insist on throwing silly tantrums you'll be treated accordingly." SPANK harder SPANK much harder *SPANK!!* Ouch that fucking hurts hard. He spanked away and I did my best to resist crying out but eventually cracked and said "Ok I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

"I know you're sorry but you're going to be sorrier I can assure you," said my husband pausing momentarily to bend and grab the ruler from under the chair. He brought it down with a flurry of loud splats causing me to wriggle violently on his knee. "Keep still, you're not going anywhere till I've finished with you!" said my husband and his left hand grasped my waist holding me secure on his lap but unable to stop my legs kicking or my upper body twisting. The ruler spanking increased forcefully, I think he covered the whole of my bottom and then added some to my thighs for good measure which had me crying out. "Please STOP P, it's enough really it is..".....THWAP! THWAP! SPLAT!...."Oh god no more of that PLEEAASE!!!!"

The ruler stopped and I heard it drop to the floor and I let out a huge breath and let my body flop like a rag doll thinking it was over. Then SLAP SLAP SLAP SLAP......at least it was his hand now....SLAP SLAP.........it went on for ages and then suddenly he stopped spanking and his hand rested on my bottom. He told me I shouldn't be like that, he'd been and shopped with me, made time for me so that I'd be happy, he'd wanted to get away for a few days too but circumstances hadn't permitted. I started to think I was a bitch. Then he spanked me some more but it wasn't so hard now and I felt like crying and I think I should have and probably would have had he carried on telling me off. But then it stopped and he told me to get up and pull my knickers up and go and put my shopping away and let's have no more silliness. "All right?" He asked me. I didn't answer, just stood up sullenly and pulled my t shirt down before pulling my knickers up, I didn't want him to see me naked. P stood up too and put his hand under my chin turning my face up to his. "I said all right?"

"Yes, P, I'm sorry and I mean it." I did too and I clasped my arms around his neck. "Well just remember it," he said, "now pull your jeans up before you trip over them and put your shopping away. I' going down to make a drink." And he was off, leaving a silly spanked girl to put the chair and the ruler back and go and sort out her purchases.

When I got downstairs P was sitting on the sofa, two hot drinks on the coffee table, he had a newspaper which he put down and patted for me to sit next to him. I think I was pouting a bit and I winced as I sat down and told him that had hurt.  He said it was meant to and I'd deserved it and that was when he asked me which I'd prefer, silliness or a sore arse. I lowered my head but raised my eyes so that I had to look up to him.

"A sore arse." 

I said, and I stretched up and pecked his cheek before reaching for our drinks.

Ronnie
xx