Let me count the ways

Far from enjoying her retirement, our dear friend Bonnie has been hard at work. She has discovered 100 ways to say she has been spanked, and here they are:

 How many ways can we say I got a spanking without saying the word?

1. A session with the hairbrush 2. A trip over his lap 3. Accepted the consequences 4. Acquired a sore rump 5. Acquired paddle burns 6. Attitude adjusted 7. Bare bottom punishment 8. Bared my bottom 9. Beat me with a bath brush 10. Beat my butt 11. Behavior modification 12. Bent over the couch 13. Blistered my bottom 14. Blushing at both ends 15. Booty blasted 16. Brat handling 17. Britches dusted 18. Butt busted 19. Caned 20. Corporal correction 21. Corporally punished 22. Cropped 23. Dealt with 24. Did the lap dance 25. Discipline administered 26. Feeling the burn 27. Felt his belt 28. Felt the leather 29. Felt the sting 30. Fetched the hairbrush 31. Fire in my caboose 32. Fixed my wagon 33. Flipped my skirt 34. Flogged 35. Gave me plenty to think about 36. Glowing globes 37. Got a red rear end 38. Got a shiny red hiney 39. Got a whooping 40. Got all I deserved 41. Got out the ruler 42. Got the wood 43. Got thrashed 44. Got to the seat of the problem 45. Got whacks 46. Heat for my seat 47. Hit me where the sun doesn’t shine 48. Hit with a wooden spoon 49. Joined the sore corps 50. Learned the hard way

51. Made it hard to sit 52. Made my bum hurt 53. Met the board of education 54. One hand clapping 55. Only hurts when I sit 56. Paddled 57. Painted my back porch red 58. Percussive persuasion 59. Posterior pain 60. Put in my place 61. Received strokes 62. Received swats 63. Reminded who is boss 64. Removed his belt 65. Roasted my butt 66. Rolled up his sleeve 67. Scorched my buttocks 68. Seared my rear 69. Sent to Sore Bottom City 70. Sent to the principal’s office 71. Served some lap time 72. Set straight 73. Smacked 74. Sorted out 75. Stared at the carpet 76. Strapped 77. Struck with a rod 78. Stung my sitter 79. Switched 80. Swung the hickory 81. Taken down a peg or two 82. Taken to the woodshed 83. Tanned my hide 84. Taught a hard lesson 85. Taught some manners 86. Thoroughly chastised 87. Toasted my buns 88. Took my licks 89. Took my punishment 90. Took the paddle off the wall 91. Visited the seat of learning 92. Warmed my seat 93. Wearing welts 94. Went medieval on my butt 95. Went over his knee 96. What naughty girls get 97. When the paddle falls 98. Whipped 99. Wore his marks 100. Wore out my seat

Glory to Ukraine

Guest Post - Implements VIII

It's not the end after all! Bacall vary kindly sent me a photo of her arsenal.

"The small holey paddle is my all time favorite which Bogey made for me, followed by the leather paddle. One side is sensual and the other side is very stingy. It was given to us by a dear friend that is no longer with us. I think he only wanted the sensual side used on me. Bogey thinks it’s the stingy side that he wanted to be used. The leather paddle was the first one I bought. I like the long thin Teacher's paddle when I am in the right frame of mind. The red paddle is the one I like when I think I am bulletproof. "

Wow, Bacall! They all look very inviting, in an ouchy sort of way. I can't decide which one I love/fear the most! Thank you for sharing your impressions of them.

If you would like to send me a photo of your favourite implement(s) I would love to post it here. Send it to me at martingale2 @ yahoo . ca (without the spaces). 

Guest Post - Implements VII

Yorkie, a regular reader and enthusiastic brunch participant, sent me this picture of his spanking arsenal.

"Here are the contents of my toy box. They're not much but they are effective. I love them all! In there is a handle from one of those bath brushes with a removable head. The head kept falling off so I kept the handle as it was too tempting to just throw out."

I also have one of those pink sticks, and wrote back to Yorkie, saying I hadn't dared to try it yet. Here is Yorkie's reply regarding the "Smack Stick Senior".

"That thing is quite formidable. Rather than try to describe it anew I thought I'd scour through all the things I'd written to my wife and the first one I came across was a session where I'd had about 60 swats from that strap, my Ever Ready cane and the small brush with angled handle. So I wrote...

"I also wanted that smack stick as, no matter how numb my bottom was in certain places, I knew that thing would up the ante. It did. Oh boy it did! If that small bath brush generates white heat, this stick turns it up even more and due to the thickness and density of the material it gives more impact to the layers of muscle underneath the skin. Oh my goodness! 60 with that was both enough and not enough."

Yorkie, you will be pleased to know that I have brought the Smack Stick out of hiding and it is now hanging on the wall with all the other implements. I haven't drawn attention to it, but if Ron happens to choose it, well, I guess I'll find out how it feels.

This is the last post in the series, but it doesn't have to be  the end. If you would like to send me a photo of your favourite implement(s) I would love to post it here. Send it to me at martingale2 @ yahoo . ca (without the spaces). 

Guest Post - Implements VI

My very dear friend Ronnie shares her favourite (or least favourite, depending on how you look at it)  implements with us today. Ronnie's blog is offline at the moment, due to security concerns, but I hope she will be back up and running soon.

"My two least favourites - the black strap which P fashioned from an old belt, it certainly bites, hard and no flexibility in it. The other is a paddle Bogey sent me, I can only say for a small paddle it certainly gets my attention.

"My favourite and will always be is our Rose leather paddle, we've had it for ages and only gets better with age."

I must agree with her about the rose paddle. It's one of my favourites too!

If you would like to send me a photo of your favourite implement(s) I would love to post it here. Send it to me at martingale2 @ yahoo . ca (without the spaces). 

King Marshal has a great collection of spanking toys.

"Everything in my little bag of fun gets used when it comes out.  My favorite toys are my finger floggers and canes when I am in a sensual mood. 

"But really they are all fun.  Sometimes I just have to laugh because I have been doing this for over 30 years.  And really the only toys I owned I bought at Target, the grocery store or whatever....But I had never actually bought an actual Implement until 5 years ago.

"Now I have this bag and another full duffel.  Crazy, crazy crazy!"

Not crazy at all, King, or if you are, you have plenty of company!

If you would like to send me a photo of your favourite implement(s) I would love to post it here. Send it to me at martingale2 @ yahoo . ca (without the spaces). 

Guest Post - Implements IV

Fellow blogger NoraJean shares her favourite implements with us today.

"Here is our old favourite ... the crop

"and new favourite ... an nicely worn, old belt of Frank’s."

Thank you, NoraJean. I used to have a crop exactly like that one, although it was never used for spanking. The belt looks yummy!

If you would like to send me a photo of your favourite implement(s) I would love to post it here. Send it to me at martingale2 @ yahoo . ca (without the spaces). 

Guest Post - Implements III

Long-time blogger and friend Fred sent me this photo of his spanking arsenal.

"There is a story behind the black crop. A few years back my partner moved to a new apartment. It was a bit run down and needed cleaning, decorating and a few repairs. We were working on the bedroom wardrobe (closet), and we found the crop at the back, it was hidden by the carpet. The previous occupant did not look the horsey type so draw your own conclusions.

"The wooden spoon is from the kitchen; it's ready to hand for those impromptu moments. The belt was bought in a charity store, I don't think we have ever used it.The loopy cane is the most unpleasant. We love the red flogger."

I have to agree about the loopy one!

If you would like to send me a photo of your favourite implement(s) I would love to post it here. Send it to me at martingale2 @ yahoo . ca (without the spaces).

Guest Post - Implements II

Our friend Fondles sent me these before and after pictures of a vanilla object transformed into a serious spanking implement. She writes: "Here's a Christmas paddle that BIKSS did up for me our first Christmas in 2012- it's just a common rice-stirrer from Thailand I think, but he brought it home from his work trip and sanded it down, varnished it and wrapped some leather bands around the handle for a better grip :)

"It's our go-to for when a more "intense" session is required."

If you would like to send me a photo of your favourite implement(s) I would love to post it here. Send it to me at martingale2 @ yahoo . ca (without the spaces).

Guest Post - Implements I

Last week a regular reader and brunch attendee who I will call 'Barrel' suggested that I ask readers to send in pics of their favourite implements. Since it was his idea, I thought it only fair that his picture should go first.

That's quite a collection! He says about the strap that is fourth from the bottom "I made the leather strap from a shoulder strap off of a discarded piece of luggage. " Very creative!

If you would like to send me a photo of your favourite implement(s) I would love to post it here. Send it to me at martingale2 @ yahoo . ca (without the spaces).

Guest Post - Bloomingdale's

Some time ago, I shared a true story sent to me by our good friend and regular reader A.J.  He promised me a followup, and here it is.

We are a few months into our relationship that now includes a little spanking.  It's not an all-the-time thing, just once in a while and only for the sheer kinky fun of it.  We never hurt each other nor spanked for punishment.  Sherry has been spanked a few times; and she has spanked me, not as often as I do her, but she's done it!  Both of us spank and are spanked because we both found it so sexy.  We are so comfortable being with each other.

It's mid-week, after work, and we are at a restaurant in a mall.  After, we leave the restaurant to head for the car and walk by Bloomingdale's,  And that is when Sherry suddenly remembers she needs to "pick up a few things".  I didn't groan out loud, but inside my head I sure did. I hate shopping, even by myself for myself, but tagging along with someone when you want to be somewhere/anywhere else...?  Oh, jeeze.  Damn. Suck it up, big boy!

We go into Bloomingdale's.

Now, it's already well after 8PM and they close at 9 so there are very few people in the store, and little time.  To make the best of a bad time, I start acting the fool.  Making jokes about people, things on sale, just anything and everything, making myself a little pest and acting goofy, and pushing her buttons a bit with it.

We wind up in ladies' lingerie.  Oh, yeah.  Always a favorite for guys, amiright? - and the place is deserted with only the sales clerk, a woman, probably around 24, in the department, ready and eager to lock up and go home.  I'm picking up odd pieces of lingerie and cracking wise using them as props.   Sherry has found what she wants and is with the clerk checking out when I see this rather large pair of women's panties, hold them up and said something like, "Hope these aren't in your future!"  Or something like that.

Frustrated with my antics Sherry then asks (groans?) the clerk, "Ummmm.  How do you get men to stop acting like idiots?"

Clerk:  "Ha. There's no answer to that one."

And then Sherry sighs.  And then there is that slight pause....  And then she says to the clerk quite clearly, "Maybe I'll just have to spank him."

I heard that!  I heard that!  Sherry just used the s-word!  In public!  To a civilian!  Not supposed to do that.  I'm more than a little surprised, but I'm now deep into 'fool' mode and, dammit - I can't let her get away with that!!

Me, (in a whiny voice):  "Oh!  A spanking.  I'm so afraid. Not that.  Not that, pleeeese."

Well, she heard that, looks up and me, points a waggling finger toward me like a teacher giving a warning to a 7-year-old and, with a face full of smiles and bright eyes says, "Ahhhh!!  All right!  All right! Now you've done it!  You asked for it! (Wait for it....wait....wait....wait... here it comes...)  ...Wait 'til we get home!"

Yeah.  Those words; words we've all heard before.  And we all know what those words imply.

The clerk is now laughing!  And I mean she just has a face full of smiles and giggles!   I come up behind Sherry as she's getting checked out, still over-playing the fool, kissing the back of her neck, my arms around her waist, and just pouring 'the pest' on:  "Oh, please, no.  Not that.  Don't spank me," etc, etc.

Sherry is furiously trying to sign everything and get her receipt and packages as fast as she can, and I'm in the way.  And she's smiling through pursed lips the whole time, and mumbling, "Oooooh; just you wait 'til I get you home!"  She finally gets everything, turns, takes me by the sleeve and says very clearly, the magic words, "Let's go home.  We. Need. To. Talk."  And you damn well know the dead tone in which that last sentence was delivered.

We go about three steps towards the exit.  Sherry pauses, stops, looks back at the clerk and asks, "Whatdaya think; bare bottom?"

Oh, sweet Mary, what a moment!  The clerk almost explodes!  Hell - I almost exploded!  The clerk is a grinning fool and gives Sherry - a thumbs up!  PERMISSION!

I see that and just glare at the clerk and give her a pained, eyes and mouth wide-open 'What...? I-thought-you-were-my-friend' look.  The clerk then tells Sherry, "And give him a couple for me!"  I just glared at her (friendly, though) as I was pulled toward the door.  I think we made that clerk's week.

Out of the store and into the mall and Sherry is taking long strides toward indoor parking, pushing and pulling me all the while like a mom on a mission with a 5-year-old, her heels making that determined clicking sound on polished granite women in heels make when they walk too fast.  She's still smiling; but it's an evil smile!

In the car.  I'm in the driver's seat.  "C'mon.  Start the car. We need to get home.  C'mon. C'mon... C'mon..."

I start driving and see her with one leg crossed over the other, top leg moving up and down, shoe hanging on her toes, twisting her ankles.... Uh-oh.  She's not looking at me, but I can occasionally see her reflection in her window; lips slightly pursed - but still, a bit of a smile.  And she's thinking!  Or is it scheming?

We're at her place in about 10 minutes and she is out of the car in a flash, pushing and pulling me to the door, "C'mon, C'mon.  Let's go.  Move it!"

We get into the foyer.  Not wasting time and in a hurry, she just throws her packages to the floor and pushes me into the living room behind the big sofa and tells me to "Get those pants down!  Now!  C'mon!  Hurry!" and fumbling with my belt and zipper trying to make it happen even faster.  Hell, she so anxious she hadn't even taken the time to take off her coat!

My pants are now down at my ankles and I'm pushed over the back of the sofa.  In one swoop, down come my shorts.   She positions herself, winds up her right arm and says, "You asked for this and now you're going to get it.  Laugh at this!"  With that I get a pretty good swat on my left cheek.   (Oh!  Good one.)  Then the right cheek; another pretty good one, too.  But I'm still playing the fool and in with a whiny voice, "Ow. No. That hurts.  Please don't spank me."  That made her more determined, but at least she's still grinning, and I get a couple more pretty sold whacks.   We're having fun.

So I'm still being the whiny and laughing BF and start to wriggle and move my bottom left and right - making her miss the target!  Sometimes a glancing shot, some near misses, none of them are like those first two she had landed, and she's getting peeved.  She can't consistently land solid smacks!  Ha!  I'm winning!

After her telling me to "Stand still!  Stop moving around!" ('cuz, 'ya know, that always works) and my ignoring her, she gives a, "Grrrr!", parks her left hip on the back of the sofa right up next to me, right foot on the floor for stability, and puts her left arm around my lower waist to keep me, relatively, in place.  I can't move as freely, and she goes to town.  I'm getting a good spanking now, and it's coming harder and faster.  In my mind I could almost see her; bright eyes, an evil smile, lips pursed, teeth clenched, and delivering full, bare-hand swats on my wriggling bottom.  She's one determined woman.  Gawd, I love her.  It's not that hard a spanking because of our positions, she still doesn't have the right angle.  Besides, it didn't hurt.  Sherry hit like a girl.  (I can say that.  Now.)

She spanked me hard and fast only for maybe about one minute, tops. And then it's over.  I then stand up from the sofa, rubbing my now-pink bottom. I look at her beautiful face and see those sparkling eyes, that Cheshire cat-like grin.  And she's panting!  Literally, she's panting from the exertion. She looks so beautiful!  I'm so turned on.  Did I mention along with a red tingling bottom I also had a raging erection?  No?  Yup.

"Gotcha' good, didn't I smart boy?"

"Yeah; you did.  Whooo!" I smiled and rubbed.  Then I hugged her close.  And lovingly. And kissed her sweetly on her neck, just the way she loves it.  She wraps her arms around me in turn.  I whisper in her ear, "And now I'm going to fuck you, and there's not a damn thing you can do to stop me."

She gives out that fake "Eeeeek; Oh no you're not!", and starts to run.  I make a move to grab her.  OK, one and all, lesson for the day: you cannot run very hard or fast when your slacks and undershorts are around your ankles.  Just sayin'...  Take notes if you need to.

I trip and start to fall but was able to grasp just a bit of that coat she forgot to take off and pull her to the floor with me in a tumble.  There began the struggle to get her out of her slacks and panties, not to mention my getting my slacks, shorts and shoes off.  (It wasn't easy!)  "You woke up the penis; and he must be fed - for he is hungry!"

She could easily have stopped me at any time if she wanted to, but despite all her pathetic and fake "No!! No!" squeals and totally feeble efforts trying to keep her pants on, she was into it.  Which was good; because I sure as hell was.

I finally get her slacks and panties off, part her legs and soon enough she is going "Ummmmm!" and you hear that little "Uuh!" intake of air women do when you've hit "it" right and their back arches.  God, that's a great moment.  I watch and see her suck in her breath while biting her lower lip.   I got her.  I got her.  I own her.  I own her orgasm!  Own it!  And now it's all 'Grand Aria at the opera' time!

The rest I can leave to your imagination.

After, we just lie on the floor enjoying what had happened and quietly talking.  Me:  "You told the clerk about spanking me, but I'm the one that winds up getting spanked!"

"Oh, and you weren't asking for it?  Besides. You got laid."  (An implied: "So there.")

"Yeah; and a red, sore butt too!"

"I like it!  It looks so cute."  (Eagerly) "Maybe I should do it again!!!

"Not tonight, honey.  By the way, how's the carpet burn?"  (Big shit-eating grin here.)

"Oh, yeah. That."  (Smiles.)

Gawd, I love her.

==============================

A little epilogue:

This was fun, but I think it only could have been pulled off in the manner it did.  If it was reversed and it was me pointing to her and threatening a spanking the clerk may well have called security or the local police.  It's funny only when it's a woman threatening her boyfriend with a spanking because, well, that's cool. Not so when it is the other way around.  Which I think is fair.

It was a great night.  It never happened again and I never saw the clerk again, not out of any embarrassment, just that I don't like shopping to begin with, especially lingerie, so it would be a rare event if I wound up there again.  I'd really like to know what that clerk was thinking as she saw us leave Bloomingdale's that night. Probably smiled all the way home.  And while I never went back, Sherry certainly did.  And if she encountered that clerk again she never told me.

Last, in the other story I sent to Hermione about being in the antiques store acting the fool, the female owner of the store had asked when we were going to get married, something that she really had me thinking about.  Seriously thinking.  Sherry was smart, cute, sexy with great gams and a truly spankable tush, a real dry, smart-mouth wit, and a woman whom I loved and wanted to be with all the time.  Marriage?  Could Sherry be "the one"?

No.  It didn't happen.

I mentioned in that last post the I met Sherry when working on a contract and she was appointed to be the person I had to deal with instead of the director.  What I didn't mention was my "client" was the U.S. Army, and Sherry was a Captain in that army.  Yup!  Sherry was career Army.  She was born into a military family, and like her father, wanted to make it a career.

A few months after that "fun" in the antiques store, Sherry told me that she had spent some time with one of the personnel officers assigned to her branch of the Army to plan out the next phase of her career.  She sat down and told me that in a few months she was going to be reassigned and sent to the "Advanced Course" for her branch, and after that 4-6 month course, get her first overseas assignment:  To South Korea. For at least a year.  She would be gone from me for at least 18 months.  Worse, after Korea she would be reassigned to another army post, most likely NOT Washington.

And that's what killed off any ideas about getting our married.  I had, a couple years before, got out of the Army myself, was now established in my career path and finally - finally! - making enough money so that I was not living paycheck to paycheck. I might have been able to get back in, but the likelihood we would serve in the same place at that same time was slim, and I'd be years behind my peers for promotion.  And that ended the relationship.  I lost her.

The last I heard is that she wound up in Texas after South Korea, met a guy in the army, got married, had kids, and "found Jesus".

And now, decades later, because of Hermione's website, all that is coming back to me, and I'm left wondering what could have been. Should I have followed her...? 

Readers, what do you think?

Guest Post - A.J.

After reading the past two installments of The Souvenir Shop (here and here), regular reader A.J. told me of a similar experience he had with his girlfriend. He has kindly allowed me to share it with you, and I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.

This is that story I mentioned. I've told others this story, so feel free to do with it what you will.

It’s about being in public with my then girlfriend, Sherry, where I went, maybe, one sentence too far when I should have kept my mouth shut.  Despite my speaking a bit too freely, it created one heck of a great memory that I have of being with her that goes back many years.

As background, I met Sherry while on a work project.  She was the person the client assigned to monitor the contractor (me) on our project, and with whom I had to meet twice a week.  And I liked her at first sight. Attractive, smart, with legs to die for, and those great stems went to a tush that can truly - truly - be described as ‘spankable’.  Smart and with a smart mouth where you never knew what she was going to come out with, saying something that would make you laugh and ask, "What did you just say?"  The more I looked at her and the more we were together, the more I fell for her. Meetings had led to lunches, to after work cocktails, to dating.  Serious dating.  Spend all our free time together dating.  Go with me on vacation to Hawaii dating.

About three months into our now-serious relationship, Sherry tricks me into spanking her (another great story).  That upped the relationship considerably (a world of trust) and we begin a whole new relationship that included the occasional fun-loving spanking (M/F).  Please note that we had a relationship that sometimes included spanking, and not the other way around. We never spanked in anger (we never got angry at each other), and never for punishment.  Every time it was strictly fun/fantasy, and it always led to more intimate moments!

About a month after that initial spanking (with a couple more in-between) I come out of the shower to see Sherry standing in the bedroom with ‘that look’ on her face.  She then announces:

“You know, you haven’t been spanked in more than 20-years. You’re way overdue!  It’s my turn.  Get over my knee!”

With that she sat on the edge of the bed and called me to her.

My mouth went instantly dry and my heart started to pound.  Oh, God.  What’s happening?  But fair’s fair; you give, you take, right?  I come to her.  She's sitting on the edge of the bed.  Back straight. Knees together.  And no expression on her face other than confidence and determination. She's all business.  This is real.  Heart starting to beat I slowly approach her right side.

"C'mon.  Get over.  Let's go."

OTK I went. Nervous as hell, but I went.  She pauses.  Left hand on my right shoulder.  Her right hand on my right butt-cheek.  Not rubbing; squeezing, testing.  Like an orchestra conductor thinking about the score in front of him, about to lift his baton; all concentration.  And then it began.

And I got my first adult spanking!  And it was a pretty good one, too! A bright pink and tingling butt that had me rapidly rubbing it as I knelt on the floor in front of her, foolishly grinning.  And Sherry got to give, not only her first spanking, but give that spanking to a man!  She was so giddily happy when it was over and peppered me with lots of questions: “How was it?  Did I do it right?  Was it too hard?  Too soft?  Tell me!  What was it like?”

“Yeah; you did a pretty good job!”  She was so happy.  Then she laughed and ‘ordered’ me to ‘thank her’ properly, and laid back on the bed.  And me being a gentleman....

And the relationship got stronger.  From then on, no one’s bottom was safe.  It was such fun.

Let me again caveat the story by saying this happened long time ago.  So while the events actually happened, don't hold me to exactly what was said.  It is just what I remember from that memorable day.

====================================

The Gold Cup is a historic horse race in Virginia that goes back more than a century.  Not your typical horse race, but a long steeplechase with hedges, water hazards, jumps, and more. It’s held in northern Virginia's ‘hunt country’.  Estate country.  And very rural.  How rural?  One favorite town nearby, back then, had a population of maybe 250 tops.

The race is held in May when it is finally nice and warm and winter is a memory.  And it’s expected you dress for the occasion, and I’m talking an elegant 'Great Gatsby' style and flair.  Women go out of their way to find that perfect summer dress; light silks or silk-like dresses that tease in the breeze. A couple weeks before the race I come into two free and very expensive tickets for the Cup.

Sherry and I leave mid-morning and drive through the beautiful country-side on small winding country roads.  We get there, gamble on the races, sip champagne, see and be seen, and basically have fun.  But around 5pm she and I are getting tired.

Sherry:  “Do you mind if skip the last races and go home?”

“No; let’s leave now before the traffic hits.”

We leave and are back on those country roads and come to an intersection where there is a gas station, a general store, and - an antiques store.  And that’s it!  All else is open land. I decide to fill up the gas tank and pull into the station.  And that’s when Sherry spots that damn antiques store and announces she going there, ‘just to look around’.  I’m to top off the tank and come get her when I’m done.

Oh, God no.  Shopping.  We’ll be here at least another half-hour or more.

The car is topped off, I pay the attendant, get in the car and pull around to the front of the antiques store.

I go in the store and Sherry is wandering around the back of the room, looking at one dusty old thing after another.  It's very close to closing time and the place is empty.  I’m about to join Sherry when the female owner comes up and says hello to me. She is at least 50 years old, maybe 55, and very nice.  And...

“Is there anything I can help you find?”

“Oh, no; thanks.  I’m just here with my girlfriend over there.  She’s the shopper, not me.”

“You’re both dressed so nice.  We’re you at the Gold Cup?”

“Yes.  First time.  Quite a party. The races were fun, and all these women so beautifully dressed. I love that summer dress Sherry is wearing. She has this great hat that goes with it that’s in the back of the car.”

“How long have you two been together?”

“I met her early August so...nine months.  I didn’t realize it had been so long.”

“You must be having fun then.  How did you meet?”

I go into my story of meeting her while working and how much I love being with her and that we spent almost all our spare time together, etc., etc.  I talked too much about Sherry and how much I loved being with her.

With that she says:  “Oh, boy, does she ever have you all wrapped up.  Just like a Christmas present.  All you need is some ribbon and a bow on top!”

I just look at her and smile. Then…

“So when are you getting married?”

I froze. What...?  She had just used the “M-word”!

“(Mumbles something)...ummm, well, I think I’m too young to be getting married.”

“Well you must have thought about it at one time or another.  What age do you think is right for you?”

“Oh...28?”

“I was married nine years by the time I turned 28.  When’s your birthday?”

“December.”

“Five months ago.  And how old are you…?”

Nervous pauss.  “27...”

A real big smile:  “So, only seven months to go!  I assume you went to college; any of your roommates married?”

“Yes.”

“Do they have children?”

“Yes.”

(Grinning.)  “Married, and with children.  And you still think you’re too young?”

And there it was. The “M-word”.  I just had not thought about it, but there it was.  Could Sherry be the one?

I go up to where Sherry is, nervous and still thinking about that "M-word" all the way.   “About ready to leave?”  Please say yes.  Please say yes.  Please say yes.

“In a couple of minutes." Yeah, right. ”Looks like you had quite the conversation with that woman.  What were you talking about?”

“Nothing much.”  Yes, I lied.

A minute later the woman joins us and she and Sherry talk about all the dusty junk.  We’re never getting out of here.

I don’t know why I did it.  They’re talking, I’m looking around.  I see something in a barrel nearby and reach into it and pull 'it' out.  Some kind of paddle used for baking.  Very old.

I shouldn’t have said it.  I shouldn’t have said it.  I shouldn’t have said it.

“Look, Sherry.  A paddle in case I have to spank you and not hurt my hand!”

I shouldn’t have said it.  I shouldn’t have said it.  From the look on Sherry’s now rapidly-reddening face I knew I shouldn’t have said it.  I used the s-word, in public, to a civilian.

And that’s when "the sisterhood" stepped in.  The woman laughs, said something about all women getting a little spank now and then, and then sides up next to Sherry, takes the paddle from me and says, “Oh, that’s a nice antique wooden utensil."  Looking at Sherry. "But the thing about something like this is that it is an inanimate object.  It doesn’t care what it is used for – or who’s using it!”  And with that she extends the handle end of that paddle to Sherry who took it.  And then Sherry’s eyes lit up!

“We’ll take it!!”  (Note:  I do not recall if she said “We’ll take it” or “I’ll take it”, but given the context, I think that’s important.)

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa!  I was only jok...”

“We’ll take it!  How much?”

“No, no, no. We don’t need...”

"The sisterhood" has got me now, and lays it on thick.

Said the woman, semi-seriously and not at all to me:  “Well...it is a true antique with a history.  On the other hand it has been here for quite a while."  Pause. "How about one dollar?” A dollar?

“We’ll take it!”

“But you’ll also have to take one of those leather straps over there.  No one really ever buys them and I need to get rid of them.”

Two for a dollar!  Fifty cents each?

“We’ll take it!”  Turns to me. “Pay her!”

"No, no, no, no; we don't need it and I was only jok..."

“Pay her!”

The sisterhood doesn’t say a word.  Standing together they both just look at me with ‘that look’ on their faces; huge grins mightily trying to stifle back the laughter.  They both knew how this was going to end.

“C'mon.  Pay her.”

I pull out my wallet and put a dollar into her hand.  What have I done?

But 'the sisterhood' is not yet done fucking with me.

The woman, smiling so sweetly and dragging the moment out, asks:  “Would you like a receipt?”  Said not to me who had just paid her – to Sherry!

“No.  We have to get home.  We need to talk.”

I am so fucked.

'The sisterhood' then takes a minute to pick out a leather strap as I watch.  Sherry then takes my arm, “Let’s go home and have that talk.” Sherry leads me to the door.  The woman is almost bursting.  She watches us almost make it to the door and then shouts out to Sherry the then-equivalent of, “You go girl!”

We get into the car.  “C’mon.  Start the car.  Let’s go.”

“Are you OK?”

“Yes. C’mon.  Start the car.”

We drive.  Not a word is spoken.

“Want to talk?”

“We’re going to talk, later.”

We drive.  In awful silence.

We get to her condo.   She has me drop her off at her door.  I'm to park the car and join her.

I come into her condo and she calls out for me to come into the bedroom.  Dry in the mouth I come into the room and find Sherry standing there, summer dress now off, paddle and strap in her hand, and a pile of pillows ominously stacked in the middle of the bed.  No.  No.  No, not looking good.

And then, and ever so sweetly to me: “We should have had a discussion before getting something like this.  We could have had more fun by together looking for something we have never, ever, used before.  But here it is.  And since I’ve never used something like this before, I need to get some practice.  You do want me to be the best at everything I do, don’t you?”

How do you answer that question with anything but, “Yes”?

A pause.  “Uh-huh.”  I am so fucked.

Matter-of-factly:  “Good.  Get those clothes off and get over those pillows.”  (Note:  We had never spanked each other this way, only OTK, so this was an ominous first.)

Down to my shorts and over the pillows.

“Ummmm...no.  This doesn’t look right.  I’ll be right back.”  She leaves the room and returns with another pillow, a big bolster that she puts on top of the others and has me get over them.  I’m now, basically, in an inverted, butt-high, full-arm-swing-swat-level, 'V' position.

Sherry pulls my shorts down to my knees.  Then she picks up that oven paddle and closely looks at it.  Pretending to study it.  Turning it in her hand.  Just mind-fucking me.   “Oh boy.  I’ll bet if you’re not careful with something like this, it could really hurt.  (To my face)  You know I would never want to do that, don't you?  Hurt you?  So I’ll have to practice, to learn how to use it safely.  Right?”

Barely breathing:  “Uh-huh.”

She positions, taps my bottom a few times with that paddle.  I grip the bed sheets.  Then,

Smack!  Right cheek.

Hey!  Not too bad.  It was just as hard as if she had used her hand.

“OK?”

“Uh-huh.”

Smack!  Left cheek.

Smack!  Right cheek.  A bit harder.

Smack!  Left cheek. A bit harder.

“OK?”

“Uh-huh.”

WHAAAAACK!!!!   A ferociously hard whack to my right cheek!

“Ahhhhh!  Oh, sweet mother of God!!!”  My entire body arcs up, legs out, head up and I can barely breathe.  My right cheek is on fire!  If the neighbors were on the other side of that wall they would surely have heard me yell.

So empathetic.  So compassionate. So not either of those:  “Oh, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.  Did that hurt?”

“Did it(sputtering) #$%^*&% hurt?????   Yeah it hurt!  Jesus...”

Oh, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry.  I’m just trying to learn how to use this thing.  Here, hold on a second...”

WHAAAAACK!!!!    (Same thing; left cheek!)

“Owwwwwwwww!  Oh sweet Jesus, what the #$%^*% did you do that for???”  (Now I'm a little angry.)

Wait for it. Wait...

“I told you I was trying to learn how to use this, because I want to be the best for you.  You do remember you said you wanted me to be the best at all I do for you, right?  So it’s important that your left cheek match your right cheek - for balance.”

Now, my ass is on fire but even I had to admit – that’s one hell of a line.  Yeah. For balance. Sure. That makes sense.  Who wouldn't understand that?  Say, why don’t you take another shot?  I almost laughed.  Almost.  And then...

“But, you know what? You were right!  My hand doesn’t hurt a bit!”  (Big shit-eating grin.)

Oh, shit!  I almost laughed at that one, too.  She and her smart-mouth are enjoying this, savoring every moment.

I got several more like that; a series of firm but not-to-hard swats followed by a couple of real stem-winders that took my breath away.  In all, maybe 35-40 smacks.  Sherry finally puts the paddle down on the bed and announces it is over.  Finally; it’s over.  I start to get up.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.  Where are you going?”

“You said it’s over!”

“Yeah.  With the paddle!  (Picks up the strap and with an evil grin)  I still have to learn how to use this!” (Another big shit-eating grin.)

“Ohhhh.”

I give up.  I can’t win.  She’s got me and got me good.  I go back over the pillows, hang on, and hold my breath as she approaches with that strap.

"Slap."  A pathetic little slap, and only one.  She has spanked me with her hand harder than that.  Then it was over.

Sherry drops the strap next to the paddle, comes close to me and says, “Maybe these are not for us.  Whadayasay we put these away - and never use them?”

Damn.  I wanted to get my turn using them on her but, no; enough is enough.   Lesson learned.  I agreed.  Not for us.  We put them away for good.

Later that night we are in bed, holding each other.

“How’s your butt?”

“I can still feel it.  I’ll have bruises down there tomorrow.”

“Sorry.  I only wanted to give you a couple real stingers, not to bruise you.  But you deserved something for pulling that stunt.”

“I know. I know.  I went too far.  Won’t happen again.”

(She gets the giggles.)  Me:  “What’s so funny?”

“I’m just thinking I should have gotten that receipt!  She would have had to write it out by hand and I’d love to know what she would have written.  ‘One-each, boyfriend corrector?  Red-bun turner?’ And the price – 50 cents!  I think I would have framed it!”

(She’s laughing. Turns and looks right at me.)  “Maybe I’ll have you go back there and ask her for that receipt!!  Or go with you to see the look on her face as you ask for it! (More laughter!) Oh, God wouldn’t that be something to see!  (Even more laughter.)  I wonder if she would ask you how that paddle worked out for you?”  (A lot more laughter.)  “And you had to tell her!”  (Gales of laughter. Her face is filled with laughter and smiles.)  “And if you didn’t - I would!”

Well, it was funny.

I lied and told her my first thought in that store was to ask the woman if I could try-before-buy, and used it on Sherry in a back room.

“In your dreams!  If anyone was going to try-before-buy it was going to be me!  And I’d let her watch!"  Brief pause. "Or help!!”  (Starts laughing hard all over again.)

“Oooooh.  Now you’re turning me on.”

“Oh, really?  You’re such a perv!”

She continued to laugh and tease over all of this, and me too.  Later, we would only tease when we would threaten to "get the paddle" or strap, but we never actually used them ever again - and I never attempted that kind of ‘joke’ ever again.  Other things, yes; but never that.

Boy did I love her.

Thank you, A.J. That's quite a story!

Guest Posts on Other Blogs

On The Spanking Writers

Counting Butts and Staring at Stripes


On My Bottom Smarts

Implement Stories

The White Paddle

One Tender Moment

Guest Perspective - Hermione