Special Treatment

A few weeks ago Ron went away on an overnight trip. Since one of the days he would be gone was also the day of our regular spanking date, I suggested that we reschedule it to the day after his return. I wanted to avoid any more miscommunication, and he happily agreed.

While Ron was away I had done some of the chores that were usually his responsibility, but on his return he decided that there was a lot of yard work to be done. After a day of physical exertion in the heat and humidity, he was ready for a shower and his recliner, but not for spanking. I on the other hand had read a few more blogs than usual (okay, maybe a lot more than usual) and had been looking forward to playing and loving. When Ron said we would postpone both for another day, I agreed reluctantly.

The next day there were no more strenuus outdoor chores to be done, but the trip had been stressful and Ron was still preoccupied with thoughts about it. The time for our date came, then the minutes started ticking by. Finally Ron asked if I wanted to, or if we should postpone again.

"You don't look very enthusiastic," I observed.

"To tell you the truth, I'm not in the mood."

"Then let's not bother," and I got up from the couch. I felt Ron's fingers on my back as he tried to reach for me, but I moved away and said I had to check on something in the kitchen.

Standing in front of the stove stirring a pot, I struggled with disappointment. I knew our schedule for the next day would not allow for any play either. Then I heard footsteps behind me, and whack! Ron slapped me hard on the bottom.

"Get upstairs," he commanded.

"But I thought you weren't in the mood."

I'm not, but I can still give you a good spanking!"

I didn't need to be told twice. That was the kind of order I was delighted to obey.

For us, spanking is usually the appetiser and lovemaking is the entree that follows. This time, Ron made it clear that spanking would be the main course. It was going to be all about me, and he would do everything he could to make me feel special.

He started by asking which implement I would like. While I pondered the possibilities he picked up the riding crop. That would be perfect! It had lain unused for several months and I looked forward to feeling its sting again.

After a few cycles of strokes of the crop alternated with gentle bottom rubbing, Ron surprised me again. He stopped and asked if I would prefer something different, because the crop wasn't doing much for me. I was touched by his perceptiveness, and I had to agree. The crop was making a great deal of noise but I really couldn't feel much sting, if any. He teased me about having calluses on my bum and I laughed and turned to look and see if I did. Talking, joking and laughing during a spanking? That was practically unheard of.

I was just about to ask for the plastic paddle, which delivers a real sting and is only used after a preliminary spankiing with something less severe. Then Ron took the dogging bat down from the bedpost where he keeps it and told me he'd use it because it was always reliable. I thought it was so sweet of him to give me what I liked best, so I gave up on sting to go for thud.
The bat felt firm and solid after the crop, and it covered a much wider area. The spanking had taken a distinctly erotic turn and I delighted in the hard caresses. Ron had essentially started over and I was thoroughly spanked a second time. The rubbing in between swats became more prolongued, and each time, his fingers strayed a little farther from the impact zone.

When Ron finally laid the leather bat down, he was very clearly "in the mood" after all. So was I, and we finished with a mutually satisfying activity for dessert. Satiated, we talked and laughed some more about the ineffective crop; Ron assured me that he had been using it energetically enough.

I regained my cheerfulness, Ron was no longer stressed, and the next day my sore bottom frequently reminded me of how much my husband loves me.

Tally Ho!

Since I recently got reacquainted with our dressage whip after an extended period of silence, I thought I would share my favourite site with you. It's Horse Tack Co.

There are plenty of other sites out there, of course, but I've had excellent service from this one and they ship to Canada.

Dressage whips - not for the novice spankee! There's a lovely selection to choose from. Some are brightly coloured, some feature non-slip handles, and I especially like the gold capped one. Check out the whip and crop rack; it holds 8 implements.

(Did you know that dressage whips aren't intended to hurt the horse? They are long and slender so the rider can give her mount subtle signals without taking her hands off the reins.)

Crops - choose from candy-striped, glittery or reflective, and most come in a variety of colours.

Bats - here you'll find my favourite, the dogging bat. It's very loud, but not too severe. Ron calls this the weed whacker. I often refer to it as the leather paddle when I write about it because I think the word "bat" sounds too brutal.

The other item we have from this page is a purple bat with a little hand on the end. I call this our riding crop, for the same reason as above Most bats also come in a variety of colours. There's also an interesting-looking fly whisk.

(I'm not sure what the difference is between a bat and a crop. Possibly bats are thicker and make more noise, and most don't have wrist loops, while crops do.)

Other possibilities that are a bit more expensive, but might be worth a look:

Reins - The cool thing about using reins is that they come in pairs. So right off you have twice the pleasure! And since you have to double them to use them - one end has a buckle and the other has hardware to fasten them to the bit, neither of which you what coming in contact with a tender bottom - that means four layers of pleasure on impact! Besides plain leather, they also come braided and rubber-covered. Imagine the possibilities!

Stirrup leathers - Very similar to leather belts, although they are narrow. They are of necessity quite thick and sturdy. You could also consider the bondage possibilities. Check out the description of the Arc de Triomphe model. "No one can resist their feel!"

Brushes - There's a lot to check out here; these are the prettiest by far. But be careful! You wouldn't want your bottom to come in contact with one of these.

Fig: The Noun

Recently I was standing in line at a convenience store, and to pass the time, I was checking out the clothing that the young woman in front of me was wearing. Hmmm, nice blouse. Then I looked down to see what else she had on, and the embroidered logo on the back of her stretch pants caught my eye - FIG.

If you click on the image at the top of this post to make it larger, maybe you can see it too. That started me thinking. Since the embroidered symbol is in the exact location that the act of figging would take place, was this kinkwear?

As it turned out, this is a line of women's activewear, made in Canada. Is the placement of the logo a coincidence? I think not.

What Makes Me Cry?

I have never cried during a spanking. Usually I'm enjoying it so much that I want to cheer! On the odd occasion when the pain is just too much, I may wish I could escape, but crying wouldn't occur to me.

So what makes me cry? Tall ships in full sail on the water. A sad movie. A parade. Ever since 9/11 I cry whenever I see a fire fighter or pass a fire station. Then there's the ramp ceremony on the tarmac at the airfield in Afghanistan, when our Canadian forces say good-bye to yet another fallen comrade returning home, and a piper plays a lament.

For situations of personal sadness, such as the illness or death of a two- or four-legged loved one, I usually hold myself together and stay strong for the sake of those around me. I'll deal with medical emergencies, handle practical matters, make decisions and organize whatever arrangements are necessary. When everything is in order, then I can let myself go, sometimes not until days after a crisis.

I will cry when I am frustrated and helpless to control a situation. It's pretty rare now, but it does happen. I suppose that if I were being spanked against my will, or unfairly, or if I really didn't want it and was being forced, then I might cry. But that has never been the case. I know that if I have to, I can always call a halt. And since I am almost always a willing and enthusiastic participant, tears are highly unlikely.

Spanking Around the World

A nearby community recently had a weekend of multicultural events to showcase the traditions of various peoples who had moved from their homelands to Canada.

The events were advertised on a local radio station, and although I wasn't listening carefully, the demonstrations included:

Chinese Lion dancing
Irish dancing
Belly dancing
Highland dancing
Flogging

Flogging? What ethnic group would be doing flogging? It would be worth going to find out. What a fun day trip!

On second thought, do you think it's clogging?

Erotica for Sale

Last weekend I decided to look over my collection of erotica. There was a time when I could only buy adult books at one store I knew of, so whenever I had the chance, I'd check the erotica section and grab books with likely-looking titles. Back then, even a page about spanking made the book worth it. I never got around to reading most of them so I wanted to see if they were worth reading or if I even needed to keep them, since I can read about spanking on the internet as often as I please.

Now I have a little pile of discarded paperbacks with yellowed pages, mostly Victorian-style porn with little or no spanking in them. But what to do with these books? I guess I can bundle them up and put them out for the next CP Pickup.

It's too bad we can't have an online erotica auction, so we could all donate our outgrown implements, role-play outfits, books and restraints. The profits could go to some worthwhile cause, like making the public aware of the benefits of spanking.

The Carrot or the Stick

I have been ruminating lately over the value of administering spankings as motivation to achieve goals and as punishment for failure to achieve them.

About three years ago I was working very hard to prepare for an exam. I knew the actual date of the exam months ahead, and in order to cover all the material, I needed to be very organized and motivated. To assist me, I prepared charts of exactly what I needed to do each week, and kept all the charts in a binder so I could see my progress over the months.

I allocated some time first thing each morning to devote to studying, and I also set myself a target starting time. As the exam drew nearer the starting time got earlier and earlier. For each day that I was seated, coffee in hand and ready to work, at the predetermined time, I gave myself a sticker at the top of the column for that day. At the end of the week I could look back and see how often I had been ready to start on time.

I wonder what would have happened if, instead of being rewarded for starting on time, I had been punished each time I was late? Would I have been as motivated if I had been threatened with a spanking instead of enticed with a sticker?

It sounds silly to get excited over a little sticker that I gave myself, but that small reward made me smile and encouraged me. Would there have been a reason to punish me for failure? Ron didn't care if I studied or not. It wasn't up to him to control my work habits. My real punishment would have been failing the exam, and I wasn't going to even consider that possibility.

Animals learn more quickly and are eager to please when they are given positive rather than negative reinforcement. Why wouldn't it work that way for people? Maybe if I had been offered a spanking as a reward for being on time, say, five days out of seven, that might have worked as well as stickers.