Wednesday, January 03, 2018

I'm Ready for My Closeup

Hello again, dear friends. So it’s 2018 and we’re still here and talking about spankings. I started a reflective post about the changes our world has seen over the past year, but abandoned it, at least for now, because it’s all just too unpleasant. That’s not why you come here. It’s not why I come here either.

And so, on to the spankings. I can report lots of jolly holiday bottom warming around here. My husband, Randy, prides himself on finding innovative variations to enhance our percussive fun. After four decades, I am still repeatedly amazed (and sore) as I discover the clever ways he has devised to light a fire in my aft section.

Last weekend, he combined two of his favorite kinks – spanking and photography. The twist was that this time, he experimented with capturing the moment of maximum impact for a variety of implements. When our regular playtime began, he described his plan. He had me remove my jeans, but let me keep my top, bra, thong, and socks. It was cold in the bedroom so I appreciated that kind gesture. At his instruction, I bent over the love ramp he had positioned on our bed. He placed his cameras (yes, cameras!) on a low chest facing my exposed target.

Randy announced that the first round of experiments would involve his hand. He’s not a big fan of hand spankings these days because he claims that my bottom is much tougher than his hand and he is not the one who is supposed to be punished. I find this statement humorous, at least until he pulls out something more serious. But a hand spanking warm up seemed like a great way to begin.

He slapped my bare bottom briskly once on each side. Then he went back to check his recorded images. After a minute or two of fiddling, his attention returned to me. More swats ensued, and more gadget tweaking. It hurt a bit, but it was a good hurt and nothing for which I was unprepared.

When he declared success, I asked if I could see what was captured. It is my butt after all. He brought the camera around to show me a shot of his hand compressing my flesh. On the slow motion camera, I watched my left cheek deform upon impact, jiggle for a moment, and then return to its original shape. It was interesting, and frankly, a bit of a turn-on to see myself get spanked. I loved the hand prints!

Randy brought out several spanking implments to further the cause of science. Like a good lab assistant / test subject, I aided in his experiments. Next up was a leather riding crop. We had seen a GIF where a woman’s bottom ripples in slow motion after the impact of a crop. He wanted to see whether he could reproduce that result. I have plenty of flesh back there with which to make waves, so we were hopeful of a positive result. Sure enough, on the first try, he made my bottom ripple like a stone tossed into a pond. Then he applied the crop several more times in search of the perfect impact shot. This stung, but it was worth it to see the results. The tip of the crop pushed in my skin much deeper than I would have thought. As he gradually hit harder, the results resembled a tsunami radiating out from the punished area.

Then we moved to wood. A short, roundish, thick hardwood paddle was next. This paddle is usually applied OTK, but that didn’t stop him. He swatted me quite a few times because he couldn’t get the shot he wanted. It seems the paddle striking my bottom obscured his view of the impact. Even relocating the cameras did not achieve the desired shot. I had the poor taste to giggle at this dilemma, so he changed strategy.

When he showed me the vintage Vermont Country Store bath brush, I knew that the fun and games were over. This long handled wooden brush is a serious punishment implement. He found it provided a very satisfactory result, both in terms of his photos/video and my posterior discomfort. Ouch. That thing is so wicked. The images explained why. The spot where the brush strikes is deeply compressed and the surrounding flesh is violently forced outward. Subsequent swats amplify and spread the effect. No wonder it leaves marks!

He concluded with the punishment cane. My poor bottom was already red and pulsating with pain by this point, but I was curious to see what the cane would do. You know, the pursuit of science and all that… I lowered my head and braced myself for the stripes to be applied. By this time, Randy had a good understanding of his equipment so my caning didn’t take very long. The strokes were hard, but they didn’t hurt as much as that damned brush. The video showed the cane digging into both of my cheeks at the same time. Then it seemed to bounce off and the skin snapped back. Each stroke left a thin, white horizontal line crossing my otherwise red canvas. These lines grew into raised ridges I could feel with my fingers.

He kissed me and thanked me for being such a cooperative subject. Clothes were shed. Adult activities ensued. In the heat of lovemaking, a troubling thought came to me. “Did you turn off those cameras?”

“Yes,” he responded. And with that, pleasure resumed.

We’ve played with video before, but never in quite this way. This was a fun adventure. Randy got his shots and I got my swats. A fair bargain I think. Next time, he says, he wants to strap me to the spanking bench downstairs. He has plenty more implements that need to be tested. Now he wants to invest in a tripod. It just keeps getting better!

Monday, December 04, 2017

Bonnie's Mailbag: Halfwit Edition

In my semi-retired blogger status, I receive email only occasionally. Most of the time, the messages are from friendly readers, both new and old, who found something they liked on the blog. I am always pleased to talk with these readers and answer their spanking questions if I can.

Once in a while, I get one of those kooky messages that our brilliant colleague, Erica, always handled so humorously. This one is so far out there, I just have to share it. I don't even have a clever response. Rather, I simply stand in awe of its bizarre inappropriateness.

I love woman getting colonscopy is the sexyest thing in the world. Do you enjoy this?

There it is, in all its perverted weirdness. Words fail.

Sunday, November 26, 2017

A Black (and Blue) Friday Spanking

This week’s lesson is don’t be late for a spanking. Readers of this blog may remember that Randy and I have a standing date every Friday evening. I call it a standing date because sitting is always uncomfortable by the time it’s over.

I had the day off on Black Friday and a plan of action. There was a very special gift that I wanted to buy for our granddaughter. It’s available only at one store in the mall. I figured Black Friday shopping would be crazy, but I was determined to get this item before they sold out. I waited until late afternoon in hopes that the worst of the crowds would have moved on. Wrong! I did finally obtain this high demand gift, but I spent a lot longer at the mall than I anticipated.

When I returned home, I was surprised to see that Randy was there before me. He greeted me with a stern expression and a heavy hardwood hairbrush in hand. He kissed me on the forehead and said, “Bon, you’re tardy and you will have to be punished.” His tone was serious, but the twinkle in his eye told me that he was looking forward to the evening’s festivities as much as I was.

After I had a much needed bathroom break, we moved upstairs. He sat on the corner of our marriage bed and summoned me to join him. He still gripped that wicked brush. I asked permission to activate the audio recorder on my tablet and he agreed. I then lowered myself face down over his lap and into the traditional spankee position.

When he lifted my long skirt, Randy broke character and exclaimed, “Oh, I love these panties. They make your butt look so spankable!” I had selected a white, high-waisted cotton thong with little red hearts. I knew he would like it.

Quickly though, he returned to his serious disciplinarian mode. He started to lecture as he rubbed the smooth back of the implement against my exposed cheeks. It felt cool, at least for the moment.

“Young lady, how many times have we talked about the importance of being punctual?”

“Many times.”

“And how many times have I had to beat your bottom over just this issue?”


“And what shall I do with you this time?”

“Spank me?”

“Oh yes, you’re going to get spanked, and thoroughly too. But I believe you need an additional reminder. Something special to help you remember. Do you know what that is?”

“No Sir.”

“After I wear out your bottom with this hairbrush, you’re going to get six strokes with the cane. Do you think that’s a fair punishment?”

“If you say so, Sir.”

“Then let’s begin.”

If there was a warm up, it was imperceptible to me. From the beginning, he shocked my bare skin with that infernal brush, striking about once every two to three seconds. This steady but relatively moderate pace allowed time for me to process the pain from each stinging swat before the next one fell. He alternated sides for a while and then delivered repeated hard blows to one particular spot before moving on. As is his usual practice, special attention was directed down low to my sit spots. From this point forward, my dialog was mostly unintelligible as I struggled to cope with a long and painful spanking. However, Randy had several pearls that would have been lost on me were it not for the recorder.

“You’re a good girl, but sometimes you simply need a hard spanking on your bare bottom.” (True)

“If I didn’t spank you every week, there’s no telling what would happen.” (I would be disappointed)

“Now c’mon, you act like this hurts.” (Dammit, it does hurt!)

“How embarrassing is it for you to be spanked like a little girl?” (Enough to be enjoyable)

“You know you love this.” (OK, you caught me – I love everything about it)

“That’s a very red bottom. I’ll bet it’s going to be sore.” (Going to be?)

For all his bluster, the caning afterward wasn’t that big a deal. It stung, but after such a thorough going over with the brush, the pain receptors in my bottom must have been worn out. The entire spanking probably lasted less than fifteen minutes, but it transported my psyche to a different dimension. By the end, he could have done almost anything and I would have gladly accepted it.

After the customary flash photography, my Prince Charming declared, “I’m hungry. Let’s go out and get some dinner.” Ugh. Men. I convinced him to give me a few minutes to recompose my spirit not to mention my face. I had to take a few moments to admire the lovely shade he painted my bottom. I found the raised ridges with my fingers, and thrilled at the ache as I pressed against my warm skin. I just got a spanking, I thought, and it was a really good one. My mind was at peace. I could happily slip off to sleep or maybe some gentle lovemaking and then sleep. But it was not to be, at least not yet.

As soon a joined Randy downstairs, he whisked me out the door and into the car. Dinner was fine, I think. At least I don’t remember anything not fine. Mostly, I remember squirming atop a very unforgiving chair. We talked over dinner, but I can’t recall any details. He was very sweet.

After returning home, we finished the evening in the best possible ways. Remarkably, I had no visible marks the next morning, though the delicious residual soreness stayed around a while longer.

As for Black Friday, I’m through. From here on, I’m a Cyber Monday gal!

Saturday, November 18, 2017

Happy LoL Day!

I simply can't miss Love Our Lurkers Day. If you are a lurker, or even if you aren't, I invite you to leave a comment and say "hello." You don't need to share your life's story (unless you want to), but please let us know that you are out there.

For the full LoL Day experience, I encourage you to visit Hermione's blog.

Happy LoL Day everyone!

Sunday, September 24, 2017

Twelve Year Reflections

Hi Friends,

It was twelve years ago today that I created this blog. I had a collection of spanking stories that I wanted to share and I thought this might be a good medium for that. It was all that and much more.

I don’t post often these days, but this blog is still a part of our lives. On this occasion, I want to express my humble gratitude to everyone who has supported this blog and this community over all these years.

Just for fun, I’d like to share my five all time most popular posts:
  1. Fifty Reasons to Spank Your Wife or Girlfriend (2007)

  2. Bonnie’s Top Twenty Spanking Positions (2005)

  3. In with the New Annual Edition (2015)

  4. Spanking 101: Rituals (2006)

  5. Spanking 101: Your First Spanking (2006)
I like these but they aren’t necessarily my favorites. Here are some old memories that I’d like to share.
  1. Spanking 101: Peeling Back the Labels (2005)

  2. Our Very First Spanking (2005)

  3. Story: The Sphere (2005)

  4. Keyword Chaos (2007)

  5. World Spanking Championship (2006)
I hope you enjoy these posts!

Wednesday, August 30, 2017

This and That: A Late Summer Update

Hi Everyone!  I hope you've had a wonderful summer with all the spankings that were needed.  We've been busy with a million small details.  But we've enjoyed some fun times too (rubs bottom).

Our MBS blogroll has expanded to include over 900 links.  There's a whole lot of spanking going on out there and people are writing about it and posting pictures.  Some readers lamented when it seemed that text-oriented Blogger and Wordpress blogs (typically published by women) were being overrun by more visual Tumblr blogs (more often published by men).  However, nothing on the internet lasts forever.  The big action today is on Twitter.  Spankos in this medium post both words and pictures and seem to be fairly evenly split by gender and role.  Many recent additions to the blogroll reflect this evolving reality.

As always, if you come across a spanking blog that belongs in our blogroll, please send me the link.

As seldom as I post these days, I still miraculously get mail.  It seems that people have been rummaging through my archive.  That makes me happy.  Anyhow, one reader asked me the eternal question, "Do you really let your husband spank you with a paddle?"  Yes, Libby, I really do fully consent.  In fact, I want him to spank me because it brings us closer and renews the bond between us.  I understand that many people find this concept inconceivable, and they are, of course, free to believe as they choose.  But for Randy and me, regular spankings are the centerpiece of our intimate relationship.

Next month, this blog will celebrate its twelfth anniversary and I will celebrate a milestone birthday.  I have yet to come to terms with becoming a senior citizen, but I'm working on it.  Those birthday spankings take a very long time anymore!  But we'll get though it somehow.  :)

Here on the home front, my dear Prince Charming is still exploring and experimenting with different spanking variations.  You'd think we might have exhausted the possibilities by now, but not so.  His current interest is in corporal punishment scenarios, which I love of course.  I used to think I hated the cane, but no more.  Recently, I admired the ridges on my bottom using my fingers while in corner time and earned myself an OTK session with the brush.  Then it was back to the corner again for contemplation and photographs.  Good times!

Let me conclude with a quote for the day, from the movie Loaded Weapon 1:

"I'm just a gal like any other gal.  I want a home, a family, an occasional spanking." - Miss Destiny Demeanor

Sunday, August 13, 2017

Exploring the Maze

The spanko mind is an interesting place, filled with layers of paradox and contradiction.  When viewed through the proper lens, pain can heal and confinement can liberate.  So it is with me.

On Friday evening, Randy and I were settling into what I perceived to be our familiar weekly OTK spanking session.  My skirt was around my waist and my panties were around my knees as he rhythmically slapped my bottom with a small leather paddle.  This spot over his lap on the edge of the bed was comfortable, other than the expected posterior distress, and even that was quite tolerable.

Then everything changed.  "I've got an idea," he announced.  "Let's go to the basement."  Instantly, I grasped his meaning.  Our spanking bench is set up down there because, well, there just isn't any other place for it.  This spanking would not be our regular Friday blue plate special.  I mentally prepared myself for a far different experience.  I wasn't sure what form it would take, but I knew that it would be memorable.

We walked down two flights of stairs to our rumpus room.  Randy told me to keep my skirt raised, so I did.  Those sorts of commands help to get me into the right headspace for a big session.  Feeling the cool air against my already tingling bottom awoke the butterflies within me.

Arriving before the bench, he immediately guided me down onto it.  As I lay on my stomach, he strapped my wrists and ankles into the attached velcro cuffs.  My legs were apart and my stinging bottom was on full display. From this moment forward, he would make all of the decisions.

Randy then disappeared for several minutes.  I heard him climb the steps.  I had plenty of time of ponder his next move and my own fate.  As tightly secured as I was, I couldn't do anything else.  I decided he must be planning a hard spanking.  That would be OK I thought.

When he returned, I saw through the corner of my eye that he was carrying something, but I couldn't determine what it was.  I would soon find out.  I gasped when a well lubricated plug slowly penetrated me.  It wasn't painful, but it was unnerving.  No sooner had I resigned myself to this intrusion into my very personal space, I felt the first sizzling flicks of a crop dancing in rapid fire fashion all over my upturned bottom.  A crop is designed to gain the attention of a large animal with a thick hide.  I am but a small animal and despite years decades of deliberate percussive toughening, my skin remains sensitive.  Those snaps really hurt and I told him so.  His nonverbal response was to increase both the pace and the intensity.

"You like spankings," he reminded me.  "At least that's what you tell your readers."  OK, I did say that and it is true in the abstract and I knew I'd like this one too as soon as it ended.  But in that moment, I was getting way more spanking than I wanted.  I mean, ow!

When he paused, I caught my breath and wondered what sort of pain stick he planned to apply to my seat next.  Wrong again.  He still had that equestrian whip, but he augmented it now with a buzzing vibrator.  He resumed swatting with one hand while he stimulated with the other.  It didn't take very long before I lost any remaining semblance of control.  Perhaps it was best that we were in the basement because I know I became quite vocal.  Even though spankings hurt a lot, they are almost always a definite turn-on for me.  All it took was a bit of buzz to send me sailing into the stratosphere.

I recall regaining my wits to the sharp sound of Randy still cracking my bottom with the crop.  This was not so vigorous as before, but he maintained a steady pace.  By this point, my bottom was hot and stinging all over, but I really didn't mind.

I pulled briefly against each of the restraints just to learn whether I was still locked in.  I definitely was.  I was completely restrained by my husband and my body was his to enjoy as he desired.  That thought, along with the sensation of a plug up my butt, made me feel very submissive.  I was his possession and that is precisely who and what I wished to be just then.  I didn't have to be strong.  I didn't have to choose.

I trust my husband with my heart, with my body, and with my life.  This experience renewed that trust in way that words cannot.  It's a funny juxtaposition that I felt completely safe and content in this situation that others might perceive as dangerous.  Maybe that makes sense, at least to me, in a spanko way.

Sometime after this, Randy found his satisfaction with me still tightly secured to the bench.  He gripped two ample handfuls of my well-punished flesh as he drove deep.  His thrusts felt wonderful as the entire bench rocked beneath me.  It occurred to me that we once broke a coffee table under similar circumstances.  I hoped the bench would survive because I truly enjoy the places I can go while strapped to it.

Next, he walked around me clicking photos of my predicament.   Evidence, I thought, of my latest spanking adventure.

Yes, the spanko mind is a remarkable place.  It's like a maze with a thousand corners, and I aim to stand with my sore, red bottom on display in every one of them!