I heard a wonderful startle as I was driving to work. CBC Radio 1 plays an eclectic variety of music, and a song I'd never heard before caught my attention when I heard the line "I'd feel undressed without my cane". I thought it was just a fluke until I heard "...can't be outdoors without my cane".
Then I started paying very close attention to the words, and realized it was a spanko song. Luckily the program host told her listeners the name of the song: My Walking Stick, written by Irving Berlin in 1938. The performer was Jim Byrnes - an appropriate name, is it not?
Here are the pertinent lyrics for your enjoyment.
But my walking stick
You simply must let that be
I mean you can't take that away from me.
Without my walking stick, I'd go insane.
Can't look my best, I'd feel undressed without my cane.
Must have my walking stick 'cause it may rain
And when it pours, can't be outdoors without my cane.
If I ever left my house without my walking stick
It would just be something I could never explain.
The thing that makes me click on Lovers' Lane
Would go for naught if I were caught without my cane.
As for the Lovers' Lane reference, I can imagine a headmaster singing this while off duty. Surely his significant other would be a lady who also enjoys the delights of the rod. The wooden disciplinary type of rod, I mean.
Ron came into the kitchen from outside and took off the jacket that we share. It hangs by the back door and we both use it for quick trips to the back yard or garden when the weather is chilly.
"I found this elastic in the pocket. Did you forget it?" Ron knows I fill the pockets of any item of clothing with assorted clutter, and he wanted to stop it from happening to something he had to wear.
"I don't remember. Just put it in the cupboard." I turned away, and as I did, I felt a dull thud as Ron snapped the thick blue rubber band against my bottom. Ooh! Was it playtime?
"I didn't feel that. Try it again." He did. Still nothing.
"Wait a minute." I hooked my thumbs over the waistbands of my stretch pants and panties and pulled them both down far enough to expose my bottom. "Now try it."
Snap. I felt a small sting on my right cheek. "Ow." Then another sting on the left side. "That wasn't so bad."
But I spoke too soon. I didn't expect a delayed reaction. Five seconds later both cheeks were burning sharply. Ow! Ow! Ow! I rubbed them vigorously and looked over my shoulder to make sure the rubber band was on its way to the container that held its companions. It was. Ron had made his point.
Once the smarting had subsided, I considered the possibilities. That might be a good substitute for spanking if noise was an issue. It certainly was silent but deadly.
What a shock I got when I found this picture in my inbox this morning, at the top of a newsletter from a popular Canadian seed and garden supply company. (I did make a minor adjustment to it before I posted it.)
They are the ultimate - in kinky gardening. These would make those nasty slugs and earwigs cower in submission. And possibly the neighbours too.
We were having a playful conversation in the kitchen while waiting for dinner to cook, and I used the opportunity to get a hug or two from Ron. As I put my arms around him I told him, "You were so hard on my bottom last night, I think you should do something to make it feel better now."
As I felt his hands move from my waist to my bottom cheeks, then gently squeeze and rub them, he asked innocently, "How? With a mustard plaster*?"
I pulled away and looked at him, surprised - and I must confess - excited. He grinned at me, and it was a very evil grin indeed.
I'd better not tell him about ginger. That man is creative enough already.
*A medicinal plaster made with a pastelike mixture of powdered black mustard, flour, and a small amount of water, spread onto a fabric base that is placed on the skin. Used especially as a counterirritant.
While driving home the other day, something in the back seat of the car ahead of me caught my eye. Something long and spiky. Lots of them. Could it be? Yes! Birch branches standing upright on both sides of the car.
A man wearing a cap was driving; he was also listening and nodding as his female companion spoke. I imagined that they had been for a walk in the woods to cut fresh birch twigs, and were now on their way home to tie them into bundles, soak them, and eventually try them out.
The question in my mind -- and perhaps the reason for their animated conversation -- was who would be on the receiving end?
I've been reading Consensual Spanking by Jules Markham. The book is an interesting read if you can ignore the frequent typos. The chapters include an introduction to spanking, how to conduct a spanking session, positions, implements, role-play, erotic spanking, and domestic discipline.
This charming illustration is taken from the chapter on posture and positioning, and is titled "Basic spanking positions". Does anyone remember Tinkertoys? That's what these little people remind me of.
I'd love to have an enlargement made so we could hang it on the bedroom wall. Or maybe buy a Tinkertoy set and recreate them.
In the weeks to come I will be posting other illustrations from the same book. I hope you find them useful.
This post is about bottoms, although it isn't about spanking or submission. Are you taking good care of yours?
According to Colon Cancer Canada, colon cancer is 90% preventable. But last year, over 21,000 new cases were diagnosed in Canada. That's sad, because there's a quick and easy test that's available from your doctor.
It's as simple as a home pregnancy test, and is done in the privacy of your own home. I won't go into any more detail here. (Google FOBT if you're curious.) When you've followed the instructions and completed the test, you seal it in an envelope and drop it in the mail or take it to a nearby lab for processing.
The test is available in many countries, so ask your doctor about it, especially if you are over 50 or have a family history of colon cancer. Ron and I take the test every two years.
The serious part of this post is now over, because the topic lends itself to a number of extremely clever slogans that for us spankos, are particularly interesting. "Be Kind to your Behind" is Colon Cancer Canada's slogan and I think it's a good one (in more ways than one).
The Colorectal Cancer Screening Initiative Foundation says "The bottom line is... if you have a bum, you should be screened for CRC. ... and put your bottom at the top of your priority list." Click here to go to their site, and you'll see a picture of a bare bottom with a scrolling list of all the different names for it in various languages.
There are also a few brief but powerful video clips:
What lovely wallpaper Ron found for our computer. Those peaches look delicious! But wait, is that one in the middle really a piece of fruit? Or could it be...?
This might pass for vanilla wallpaper at the office. Ya think? Please feel free to use it if you like it.
As always, I had many wonderfully creative guesses as to the purpose of the mystery implement:
Welcome sign or saying for the front door
Picture frame
Mirror
Shoehorn for really big feet
Rice scoop
Coaster
Doorstop
"Do No Disturb" sign
Bread board
Paddle
Award plaque for "Salesman of the Year 1989"
Butter ball roller
Calendar
Key hanger
Slotted mail holder
Plaque
This is the flip side of the mysterious paddle.
Congratulations, Jay, Ronnie and Dave for guessing a note pad holder! I didn't fool Dr. Ken by rotating it onto its side.
It came with the grocery list you see here, but it can hold any sort of list, announcement, warning or notice that either of us wants to display, and can hang in any room. The possibilities are endless.
When Bonnie asked about mainstream movies with spanking scenes at a recent brunch, I realized that I had never told you about If. Released in 1968, it is the story of a group of teenage misfits at an English public school. As one reviewer said, it begins to resemble Lord of the Flies as the plot progresses. As a matter of interest, I read several summaries on the internet, and the caning scene was either ignored or only briefly mentioned.
Although I watched the movie on television fairly recently, I first saw it many years ago. A friend warned me that it was not the sort of movie you'd go to see with your boyfriend. But I didn't have a boyfriend, so that was all right, and a story about a boys' school was bound to have some corporal punishment in it, so off I went. I wasn't disappointed.
Here's the long and (I assume) realistic caning scene from that movie.
I found this meme on Tiggs' blog, and thought it would be fun to do for Ron and me.
1. Who said “I love you” first?
He did.
2. Who is the morning person?
Neither of us is a night owl, but I'm always up earlier.
3. Who sings better?
I do, but then, I've only ever heard Ron sing once.
4. Who eats more?
That would be me. I snack and nibble all day when I'm at work. I also get grumpy if I go too long without eating. Ron never eats between meals. What willpower!
5. Who’s older?
Ron.
6. Who’s smarter?
I belong to Mensa, so I have the official credentials. But that's only one way of assessing intelligence.
7. Who’s temper is worse?
His, definitely, because he lets little things upset him I take the small stuff in stride and try to keep us both calm. I will sometimes get angry if I think my bottom is being neglected, but I try not to show it.
8. Who does the laundry?
I do.
9. Who does the dishes?
We each put our own dishes in the dishwasher, but Ron washes the pots and pans and such by hand, except on weekends when I give him a break.
10. Who sleeps on the right side of the bed?
I do.
11. Who’s feet are bigger?
Ron's.
12. Who’s hair is longer?
Mine.
13. Who’s better with the computer?
I am, because it's a big part of my job, but Ron's pretty good at figuring out how to do things on his own.
14. Do you have pets?
Oh, yes.
15. Who named your pets?
Some came with names that we kept, and our most recent one was named after a character in Ron's favourite TV show.
16. Who pays the bills?
For the most part, it just happens. The bills get paid automatically from our accounts, so there are very few we actually pay manually. If you mean whose money goes toward the bills, we are each responsible for specific things.
17. Who cooks dinner?
We do it together, and take turns being in charge of dinner and assisting, depending on what we're having. We plan the week's menu together too. I fix quick weekday breakfasts and Ron cooks something more substantial on weekends.
18. Who drives when you are together?
Ron. He hates women drivers (although he admits I'm not bad).
19. Who pays when you go out to dinner?
We take turns.
20. Who’s the most stubborn?
Ron. That's my opinion and I'm sticking to it.
21. Who is the first one to admit when they’re wrong?
I always admit it, even when I know I'm not, which makes a certain point too.
22. Whose family do you see more?
Together, we see Ron's more often. But we also visit our respective family members separately.
23. Who asked who out?
We had a friendship that grew into something more, so neither one of us ever asked the other out.
24. Who kissed who first?
That was a mutual decision.
25. Who’s more sensitive?
We are both very sensitive, in different ways.
26. Who’s taller?
Ron, by a smidgen.
27. Who has more friends?
We both have aquaintances, but I suspect I have more cyber-friends.
28. Who has more siblings?
We're even on that one too.
Please feel free to use this on your blog and share your relationship too.
Gordon Ramsay is a very talented chef, a successful restauranteur, and the star of several interesting television programs. He has also caused me to wonder from time to time whether he might be "one of us".
Ramsay - an ex-footballer - is infamous for his salty language, especially the use of the F word. In fact, that's the name of his latest show, although in that case, the F stands for "food".
In Hell's Kitchen Gordon takes a group of sixteen aspiring chefs and systematically reduces them to mincemeat as, one by one, he eliminates them from the show. The last standing contender will be given a restaurant of his or her own to run, and Gordon is merciless in his demands for perfection.
Ramsay's Kitchen Nightmares is a somewhat milder but equally entertaining show in which Gordon visits a struggling restaurant and, in the course of a week, rights all wrongs and gets it back on its feet. It's often difficult to understand what's being said, because the network insists on bleeping any naughty words, so the dialogue is often mutilated to the point of being incoherent.
My suspicions about his disciplinary nature were laid to rest when, in a recent episode, he told a young chef who was bent over a counter adjusting the garnish on a plate that "I'll cane your ass!" and the young man grinned in embarrassment.
Having two identities can be troublesome at times. I have to maintain two separate ones: one for blogging and another for everyday life. That means two email accounts with two logons and passwords and two completely different sets of contacts. To help me stay sane, I have an automatic signature line for each one with the appropriate closing and name inserted automagically. That way I don't have to stop and ask myself "who am I?" before I click SEND, or accidentally send Aunt Beth an email signed "Hugs, Hermione".
And then there's the man known to you as Ron. I use that name when I blog about him, and it's become pretty automatic. The problem occurs in my vanilla world when I want to write about my husband or tell someone something about him. I always have to stop and think "what do I call him?" before typing or speaking. What if I accidentally told a colleague at lunch that "Ron said ..."? How would I get out of that one without it seeming that I was having an affair? I could possibly say that Ron was my ex-husband's name, or the name of a relative here for a visit. For that reason, I rarely discuss my home life, which is probably safer anyway.
Before I told my husband about my blog and our second identities, I lived in fear of calling him by his blogosphere name by accident. He would surely think I was being unfaithful, because he knows perfectly well what my first husband's name was, and whether or not any relatives are lurking in the spare room.
Luckily for us, we are not "name" people. Weeks can go by without either of us calling the other by name. When we have conversations with the animals, we refer to each other as Mum and Dad, because those are the names they know us by. So I was reasonably safe, except if I happened to talk in my sleep. One of the huge benefits of revealing my blog to him is that now he will understand perfectly if I ever inadvertently call him Ron. I usually stick with Sir, which delights us both.
By the way, I have proofread this post extremely carefully, just in case.
What a tough job this guy has, polishing all those bums.
I wonder if he spanks them when nobody's looking.
I also wonder what this statue is a tribute to. Cheerleaders? Spanking models? Bottoms everywhere? There's a certain equine quality in the combination of the hair, the arched backs, and the wide stance.
What do you think?
I'm going on a short trip soon, and Ron has decided to let me take his car because it's more comfortable for driving long distances. (He doesn't like me to call it "his car" but he probably won't read this, so it'll be our secret.)
We have two cars. One is mine. I'm not supposed to say that either. It's our car but I drive it to work every day and we use it whenever we need to transport something large or messy. Then there's his car our other car, which is newer; I'm only allowed to drive it under exceptionable circumstances, like when the other car is in the shop.
So, I feel quite privileged. And nervous. Ron outlined the rules for me.
"No food in the car."
"No, Sir."
"No drinks in the car." "No, Sir."
"No breathing in the car No driving over parking bumpers." "I'll try not to this time, Sir."
"No parking near other cars or under trees." "I'll do my best, Sir."
"There will be a thorough inspection when you get home." "And you'll administer the appropriate discipline depending on what you find?" I smiled hopefully.
"No! There will be no discipline. . . I walked right into that one, didn't I?"
Oh, well. Maybe I'll get a welcome home spanking if the car passes inspection. And I know he'll make sure I'm not all that comfortable when I set out in the morning.
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