I’m sober now. Well, that’s actually debatable. I think I may still be drunk. Shit, I have the Grandmother of all hangovers, the mother moved over and made some room for Granny to step in and wallop me!
I have some vague, fuzzy recollections from last night, but mainly I am crawling with embarrassment because of the whole conversation I had with Graham, the only part I can remember in glorious pristine detail is my mouth running away with itself and telling him all about my spanking obsession.
My spanking transgression confession diary is still on the sofa where we left it and my insides are curling up with humiliation and eating me alive. I can’t deal with myself right now, I need to sober up and clear my head.
I rarely drink this heavily, hell, usually the maximum is 2 glasses, but put that with the heat from the hot tub, the shock of Graham appearing and the subsequent adrenaline rush that brought about, then add the obvious evidence of three empty wine bottles in the lounge and I am so ashamed of myself I can’t stand it. What the hell am I turning myself into?
I have no control over my urges, I am tipping myself into a hedonistic lifestyle and I am rapidly removing any and all boundaries that are getting in the way of my pursuit of pain and pleasure! I knew this kink lived inside me, I’ve known it all my life, I’ve always been on the edge of feral, breaking the rules is like a hobby to me and I have gone about it throughout my life with abandon and no regrets. This is different, this is controlling me, it consumes my thoughts daily, I am utterly despondent by the end of a day if I haven’t had at least 3 screaming orgasms and done something that will guarantee a damn good spanking at the end of the week.
As far as I can see, that is the only thing I’m still managing to control. The how often the spanking happens. But, and this is now where I am confused about it all, I am happily tripping into very unknown and therefore dangerous territory by accepting spankings from virtual strangers. In truth, I may ‘know’ Mr and Mrs Wilson, but only in the narrowest sense of the word, he was my window cleaner and she works in the local supermarket. I know nothing about them other than the usual snippets from others about them being ‘decent’ people! I allowed them both into my home and encouraged them to spank the living daylights out of me. What the hell was I thinking?
And then there is Graham, my peeping tom neighbour, who I decided must be completely safe and trustworthy because he handed me my robe and told me he was GAY? That’s my criteria for safe and trustworthy now? FFS!! What is wrong with me?
I have to get a grip of myself. It’s one thing to embark on a self spanking, self-discipline regime for myself but it’s something else entirely when I start to actively provoke confrontation to garner spankings from random strangers. Obviously that was why I didn’t leave the bedroom that day when Mr Wilson appeared in the window, or even covered my bottom up, all I had to do was drop my dress back in place and he would have been none the wiser, but I stood there and got a thrill out of the idea he might see me.
As soon as I saw Graham standing outside looking over the fence at me, I purposely flashed him, and then did it again last night, standing in my punishment and pleasure palace, butt naked in full view because of the light and I gave no thought at all to the consequences of my actions. It just made me horny as hell. I think I need to get laid and get rid of all this sexual tension I’m carrying around inside me all the time. The sexual aspect above everything is the truly shocking discovery about myself I have made in recent weeks. I can’t leave myself alone! I am constantly wanting to touch myself, stroke myself, make myself cum and I am facilitating that by the clothes I wear now, or lack thereof actually, as more often than not these days, the only time I am wearing panties is when I begin my spanking. I am purposely putting myself in danger and getting a kick out of it. This is way more than naughty, it is borderline self-destructive and I have to stop.
That all sounded very reasonable and responsible didn’t it? It sounds like I have a good grasp on where I’m going wrong and I’m going to do something to fix the problem.
Yeah, not going to happen I’m afraid. As soon as I began to deconstruct my spanking fixation I realised why it’s so sexually charged for me. When I was spanked as a child, it was for breaking rules and it was discipline in its truest form. There was no sexual element to it because of who the people were who were spanking me and also because I was just a child. A very willful and naughty child at that! As I got older and into my teenage years, I did go and play with myself after each spanking I received, but that was based around the sensations I was experiencing as my bottom became un-numbed and had nothing to do with any external factors, I was exploring my budding sexuality and I was also finding my inherent sensuality through my explorations.
I was also not in control of the spankings, how hard they would be, what they were for, how often they would happen and that kept it all in check because sometimes I could go for months without receiving a spanking so the sexual tension and anticipation never built up, and as I got older my mother called a halt to spanking as a means of discipline as she deemed it inappropriate as a form of punishment now that I was a young woman. My family heartily agreed. I was very well developed by the age of 14 and it would have been the same as spanking a full grown woman. I can see why they would be uncomfortable with that. To them it would be bordering on abuse if they continued with it.
That dropped me off the edge of my world into an unknown one without discipline boundaries. I did manage to maintain the facade of well behaved woman throughout the early part of my adult life and my marriage, in honesty I was so desperately unhappy during those years I had absolutely no interest in pain or pleasure, I had become something of an asexual being. I didn’t really care about personal and I focused entirely on professional. It served its own purpose I suppose, I am now well able to provide a comfortable lifestyle for myself and I have a healthy business portfolio backing it. In essence I have little to worry about except how do I gain my pleasure? I do work hard, most days anyway, and I do work long hours when I apply myself, I also give back to the community by donating my time and number skills to a local sports club who do amazing work with people and kids of all ages from all walks of life. I am proud of my involvement in that pursuit. So why shouldn’t I take my pleasure when it presents itself to me?
In reality, who I am hurting by doing this? No one really. Okay, I could argue that Mr & Mrs W had their noses bent out of shape because of my behaviour, but let’s be fair and frank about this, they didn’t have to spank me to deal with the issue. They could have just removed Mr Wilson as my window cleaner, told me what they thought of me and walked away. The reality was he had seen an opportunity present itself for him and his wife to spank a third party, it probably did not present itself as an option for them very often. He was the one who had come to me and told me in no uncertain terms he intended to spank me for my actions, he was just getting my agreement to it that’s all.
All of my behaviour since starting the spanking has hinged on pushing the limits of my boundaries and seeing where I will draw the line. When is it too much? When have I gone too far? When have I shamed myself completely and irretrievably, when will the remorse for my actions actually prevent me from doing any of this again?
I haven’t found that place yet. So, I am going to continue to look, and in the meantime, I will enjoy my hedonistic lifestyle and take all the pain I can take in order to extract the maximum amount of pleasure my mind and body needs to feel normal.
I feel good about it all now.
I opened my transgression confession diary to make some notes, I flipped to a crisp new page, and I found Grahams IOU.
I sorted the palace out, locked up and went back in the house and got dressed. I didn’t bother too much with my appearance, Graham had seen me naked anyway, and he was gay so I wasn’t going to impress him with a short skirt a low cut top and a face full of makeup!
I wore a long floaty kaftan that split just above the knee and I set about finding glasses and some nibbles, it was only 10pm and he seemed happy to be calling so late. Might as well make the most of new, fresh company, gay or not.
A few minutes later, Graham knocked on the door and I let him in. He was grinning at me like a naughty child as he produced not one but two bottles of merlot! I already liked him so much more than half an hour ago! This could be the start of a beautiful friendship!
We sat in the lounge, three bottles of wine, ( I had provided one as well) two glasses and a plate full of munchies. After the initial awkwardness of the situation and a glass of red each, we both relaxed and began talking about our recent ex’s. We had more in common than we had started out with that was for sure. Graham’s ex had decided he wanted a normal relationship and he had run off with a woman, mine had decided he wanted male company and had been cheating pretty much all the way through our marriage.
After our 4th glass of wine, (my 6th!) Graham finally asked me about my bruises on my bottom and thighs.
‘I saw them earlier when you turned away to climb out of the hot tub. Have you been in an accident? Those are some whopping bruises you’re sporting!’ He pushed for an answer.
What could I say? Could I tell him I did it to myself? I could lie I supposed, but then I would feel bad. I like Graham, he’s easy company and he is safe! My mouth decided for me in the end and I bluntly told him I had had a severe spanking just over a week ago and my bruises were now beginning to fade. I could tell from his expression he thought I was winding him up and he shook his head and laughed.
‘You almost had me then,’ he giggled (yep he really did giggle) and took another sip of his wine, ‘but seriously, did you have a fall down the stairs or something?’
I was so drunk by now I didn’t care what I told him, so I launched into the whole story of my self spanking journey, my sideways step into a double discipline spanking from the Wilsons, (I changed their names so he wouldn’t know who I was talking about) and then about my latest spanking and why I had been so hard on myself.
He blew out a whistle on a long breath when I had finished speaking.
‘Well darling, you really are fearless and I commend you for trying to discipline yourself, but honestly, if you are going to be spanked you really need to have someone do it, not do it yourself! It can’t feel like a real discipline spanking when you do it yourself surely?’
I nodded my head, ‘yes it does,’ I slurred. ‘I end up every single time in tears and so much pain I swear I’m never having another spanking and then three days later I’m craving one again. I think I have a problem actually, I think I may be addicted to it! And, to make matters worse, I think it’s making me more naughty than I think I would be without it.’
‘Hmm, I agree with you there, you have been very naughty when you’ve been down the garden, flashing me whenever you got the chance! Good god woman, what would you have done if I had been a straight man who was horny?! You could have found yourself in a whole different kind of trouble!’
That was the first time I had thought about possible ramifications from my flashing actions! I was horrified with myself and I burst into tears of shame immediately. Being very drunk helped actually, I’m okay as long as I don’t have too many drinks, but once I’m drunk my emotions are all on the surface waiting to pop out.
‘I know you’re right Graham, and I’m really sorry for flashing you, I will put it at the top of my transgression list for my next spanking!’
‘At the top of your what now?’ he asked looking surprised.
‘My transgressions list. I make one every week, all the things I should have done and didn’t, anything I did that I shouldn’t have and all the tasks I failed to deliver on, then I work out a list of punishments for each one!’
‘Oh honey, you have got to show me those lists! Please can I see them? This is absolutely fascinating!’
I wobbled upstairs and retrieved my transgression confession notebook and brought it down to him. I handed it over to him and then sat and ate almost all of the nibbles while he read my book of transgressions.
At the end of it he put it down on the sofa between us and was quiet for a few minutes. Then he got a wicked gleam in his eye and he looked at me mock seriously.
‘You do deserve a very firm spanking for your behaviour down at the hot tub you know. You were a very naughty lady indeed. If I had been straight…’ He left the rest unsaid.
I was immediately contrite again, ‘I know, I know, I promise I will punish myself for it and I promise it will be a very hard spanking. I know I deserve one for what I did.’
‘Hmm, I still don’t think you can spank yourself as hard as someone else could, so I’m going to make a suggestion.’ He paused and looked at me for a moment. I could see he was wondering whether to carry on or not.
‘What?’ I prompted.
‘I’ll do it! He said.
I looked at him sideways to see if he was being serious or not and honestly, drunk or not, I knew that look, I had seen it before, on Mr Wilson’s face when he had told me he was going to spank me. My bottom started tingling!
‘Do what?’ I hedged. I didn’t want to jump to conclusions here, I could be way off base!
‘I think I should be the one to give you a proper spanking, one you won’t forget in a hurry, after all, it was me you flashed and you did it twice on purpose! You are very naughty you know! I think it’s only fair and just that I get to punish you for your actions Gemma, what do you think?’
I sat and thought for a whole minute. He was a big strong man, younger and fitter than Mr Wilson, but he also had a sense of humour too, and I could always appeal to that side of his nature. I nodded my initial agreement and then we discussed the how, the when, the what with and the safety precautions of safe words and the ability for me to trust him. He was so good about it all, I was eager to get going straight away! Graham had other ideas though.
‘I can see why you would want to get it over with quickly, but it’s late, we’re both the worse for wear with the drink and I want your bottom to be nice and creamy again before I spank it. I wouldn’t be able to see my handy work on it right now! I do love to give a spanking you know! It’s one of the things I miss most from my relationship with John. He was very submissive and would bend over at the drop of a hat! Ah happy days!’
So Graham was a spanker! He was a bloody dark horse is what he was! I nodded my agreement that we would wait until my bottom was back to normal and he jotted a note down in my book and signed it, it simply read, I.O.U. a severe spanking when you are fit to take one. Graham.
‘Just so we don’t forget,’ he said smiling.
I laughed and finished my glass of wine and then he left with the promise of a return visit in the very near future.
So, I had my next spanking lined up and all I had done was go down to my hot tub! Apparently I don’t have to look very hard for someone to spank me after all! They seem to come to me, ready and willing and more than able!
Truly, I must be turning into an exhibitionist, and a masochistic exhibitionist at that! I know what made me do it the first time, but when I flashed my nosy neighbour the second time it was entirely on purpose because I was a little bit drunk, very frustrated, feeling very naughty and I had had a hard week of being good to boot. I wanted… oh hell who knows what I wanted, I certainly don’t, but what I got was way more than I bargained for and a lot quicker than even I had hoped for.
We all do it to a degree, when we see something or someone we want, we behave a little like peacocks fanning our tail feathers and putting on a display. I was definitely putting on a display of my tail but I had no feathers dressing it!
After my last severe painfully hot spanking I had been very, very good indeed. I had sorted the stats out, all three months and emailed them to the coach, who was pleasantly surprised with them and invited me over for a drink to discuss them and the progress of the club in general.
Of course I refused, I try never to play in my own backyard and I have been involved with the club for a long time. It wouldn’t do to tarnish the image I had built up there over the years. I thanked him kindly but gently refused claiming work pressures. He accepted but begged a raincheck. He is a very, very good looking, very fit and muscular man somewhere in his early 50’s and single to boot, who has a way of looking at you that makes you think he can see all your naughty little secrets! In truth he makes me feel very submissive whenever I am around him and in my current state of mind that really is a disaster waiting to happen. Have I mentioned I do not govern my mouth and anything can come out especially under the influence of a few glasses of wine!
At first, I was really proud of the stand I had taken. It was the right decision, it was too close to home, what would happen if things progressed, went wrong, what if I blurted out my utter fascination with spanking, my secret would be out and he could hold me hostage forever with the knowledge! No it just wouldn’t do to go down that route. Besides, my bottom was still recovering from the thrashing I had given it and it and my thighs were still sporting some very colourful bruises that were showing beneath my thigh length skirts! If I was ever going to meet him I would definitely be wearing my shortest skirt, I consider my legs to be my best asset! Under the present circumstances that was never going to happen,I had had to wear slacks all week and I was grumpy because of it! There is no easy access to soothing oneself when one is wearing slacks. I still felt like I was being punished and I was past my two day personal embargo on orgasms!
I poured myself a glass of wine and decided that even if I couldn’t go out and have some much needed fun, I could stay in and have some fun via an hour or two in the hot tub which was now proudly sitting pretty inside it’s new home, the revamped workshop now lovingly referred to as my Punishment and Pleasure Palace! (Only to me, no way was I ever going to explain that name to anyone else!) What I found in that workshop during the clear out, oh my god! Priceless, absolutely priceless! But that’s for later. I need to offload my major transgression of the week first.
I gathered my kindle, preloaded with naughty spanking stories, (hey, I have to get my punishment inspiration from somewhere,) I opened a fresh bottle of wine, I had my waterproof womanizer (a new acquisition, I heartily recommend every woman in the world get one!) and I stripped naked and grabbed a towelling robe and a fresh towel. I locked the house up and wandered down the garden to my hot tub.
As I mentioned in my previous blog, in order to see into my back garden over the 6 foot fencing, you would have to be stood on something, so I had no problem with the idea of standing inside my punishment and pleasure palace butt naked sipping a glass of wine while I checked the chemical balance for the hot tub. I have to leave the double doors open at the moment to allow the steam to dissipate, I will get a vent fitted eventually, but for now I was secure in the knowledge I was not visible inside to anyone outside unless they were peeping toms. I had spotted him in his garden as I came around the corner of the shed, so I knew he could see me, plus, I completely forgot that turning on the light against the blackness of the night, would effectively put me under a spotlight and on full display. No curtains to draw, it’s a posh shed for goodness sake with a bank of windows along the main wall. Never entered my head to cover them up. Besides, he shouldn’t be looking and I was getting a thrill from knowing he was looking and could see pretty much everything! At least I had made someone’s night for them!
Anyway, I put some music on the player, not too loud, it was after 9pm and it is exceptionally quiet and still where I live. Just loud enough for me to hear over the hot tub. I popped my kindle in its stand and topped up my glass of wine with my third of the evening. I set my womanizer going and I climbed in the hot tub and turned on the jets. Bliss! Pure unadulterated bliss! My womanizer was already hard at work on my clit and I had reached my first wonderful orgasm of the week! YAY go me!! I could feel the stress dissipating as I came! I know this is a spanking confessions blog, but these two activities have become forever entwined and cannot be separated no matter how hard I try. Spanking is a sexual delight for me and I embrace it wholeheartedly! I have never had so many orgasms in my life, or sore bottoms for that matter!
I was entirely engrossed in the story I was reading about a young lady who had moved into a rented house and her neighbour who was a lovely but plain looking man who you would normally file immediately in the friend zone. He had played the gallant neighbour who helped her hump all of her many belongings into the house and they had become friendly. I was just getting to the good part of the story where she texts him to say she is in dire straights and needs him to come around immediately, when a man appeared in the open doorway of my palace! I dropped my glass of wine in the hot tub and jumped up screaming. I’ve never screamed in my life before and I actually shocked myself at the decibels I could reach! My eyes flew around the shed looking for a weapon but I of course had removed every fucking possibility for one on my grand clear out!
‘Who the fuck are you?’ I shouted! I was reaching for my robe as I shouted but he stepped inside the shed and got to it first. He lifted it from the hook and very calmly turned and handed it to me. Now he was inside I could see his face clearly, it was peeping tom from next door! Shit! This was the first time I had seen him since I had flashed him the other day and I know he saw me do it!
‘My name is Graham, and I live over there,’ he pointed to the house that was hidden behind 6 great fir trees that robbed all the light from my garden.
I was incensed, actually I was terrified but I don’t do flight I only do fight so I was raring! ‘Well Graham, if you live over there, what the fuck are you doing standing in my shed?’
‘I came to tell you…’
I turned my back to him while I climbed out of the hot tub, he may have seen my breasts but he wasn’t getting a good eyeful of my pussy! I clambered out and donned my robe, feeling more in control of the situation now I was suitably covered, I stepped right up to him and poked him in the chest with my finger.
‘I don’t care what you came to tell me, you can tell me from all the fucking way over the other side of the fence! Get out of my shed!’ I was pushing him as I spoke and he stepped backwards and out of the door way. I watched as laughter bubbled on his lips as he stared at me.
‘My god woman, you have no fear at all do you?’ he said in what could only be described as an amused tone. I don’t like to amuse anyone I’m not intent on amusing and his attitude incensed me further.
‘No I don’t, and I don’t care how big you are, If I aim a swift kick at your bollocks mate, you are going down! Now get the fuck off my property before I carry out my threat.’
‘Chill woman,’ he held his hands up in mock surrender and backed up to the edge of the decking. ‘I just came to tell you, you are completely on show over the fence, and I don’t think you’re aware of it. I did try to shout you, but the music and the hot tub… obviously you didn’t hear me. It’s the second time I’ve seen you, you see, and I thought you would want to know.’
I wasn’t buying his story, ‘Well if you weren’t behaving like a peeping tom, I wouldn’t have anything to worry about would I? My fences are 6ft high you have to stand on something to see over them!’ I was still pointing an irate finger at him!
He shrugged his big shoulders and smiled at me, ‘I’m 6ft 4, I can see pretty much everything without even standing on tiptoe. Look I haven’t come to cause you any upset and I know I startled you, but I assure you, my intention was just to inform you for future reference, not to scare you.’
My heart was pounding in my chest, my chest was heaving and I was so embarrassed at what he was saying the humiliation was eating me up.
‘So how come you saw me tonight? I’m inside the shed with the hot tub! That’s why I did it, I saw you peeping the other night when I flashed my boobs at you… I mean when I … I erm… oh nevermind… when I saw…’
‘Ah you flashed them on purpose did you?’ He was smiling now and I was definitely getting the feeling I was losing ground in this argument! He was too relaxed!
‘Look,’ I said moving away from the opening of the shed, ‘I may have reacted a little wildly to you turning up like this, but you scared the living shit out of me. I didn’t mean to flash you either time and I will make sure I get some cover for the windows tomorrow so that it doesn’t happen again, but can you leave now please? I feel at a complete disadvantage standing here in just a robe.’
He grinned now, ‘Aww, don’t worry about that lovey, I’m not interested in taking advantage of you, I swing the other way love. I’m gay. You’re perfectly safe with me I promise.’
I was actually disappointed. It shot through me like an arrow, something must have shown on my face because he smiled gently, ‘Don’t worry you’re not the first to make that mistake, you probably won’t be the last. Do you mind me asking your name now?’
‘Gemma,’ I muttered and held out a shaky hand to him.
‘Graham’ he said very properly once more.
I started to shiver and I looked around for my keys, I was going back in the house and putting an end to this evening!
I found them in the pocket of my robe and I pulled them out, before I could stop my mouth it opened of its own volition and said, ‘would you like to come up to the house for a glass of wine and a proper introduction?’
WTF was I tripping on? He could be a fucking murderer for all I knew but I didn’t care right then because he said, ‘that would be lovely, should I give you 15 minutes to lock up down here and get dressed? I’ll bring us a bottle with me if you like.’
I was so surprised I smiled happily at him as he walked up the path and disappeared from view up the side of the house. Oh well, inviting a gay man round wasn’t going to put me in any danger of being raped in my own home was it! What was the worst thing that could happen?
I was back on track once more with my self spanking regime, I had set my tasks, I had set my punishments in case of failure and I gave myself a week to complete the 5 tasks I had set. They weren’t difficult to achieve, they weren’t lofty goals and huge aspirational mountains I needed to climb. They were 5 simple tasks. I thought I should go easy on my bottom for a little while. It had taken a proper pounding in recent weeks and it wasn’t used to the continual action it was now getting on a regular basis.
I am always aware that I need to be kind to myself as well as strict and so I had set 5 easy to accomplish tasks because I wasn’t sure how much spanking I could take.
Apparently I must have been really hungry for a spanking because of the five tasks, I managed to complete just one. I managed to get the three sets of accounts I was working on, completed and ready for the tax man. The rest of my tasks were as follows.
Complete summary statements for accounts, x 3 sets. Completed. (Give that woman a Gold star!)
Empty workshop of ex’s stuff and dispose of or sell stuff. Not completed, not started, too overwhelming! (its a solid excuse if you claim trauma, unfortunately I can’t, I’m not traumatised!)
Complete game stats for sports club for previous 3 months. (0 completed yeah I have to get this done, very bad form now but it is the middle of the season so no pressure really. The coach will thank me nicely for them in January)
Cleaning house. (it’s not that untidy it can wait?)
Weed garden. (the weeds like it here, I feel bad for killing them, they can stay a bit longer.)
So, what was I doing instead of the above simple tasks? I wrote some stuff about spanking experiences, I went to see friends, went to the Ballet, went to watch a Shakespeare play, I played online games for a few hours daily, and generally thought more and more about spanking, in particular my most recent one with the Wilsons, and the effects it had on me. I also explored in great detail the beneficial side effects of a bloody good spanking. I barely got dressed for the whole week! It’s how this blog came about. Generally, I had a lazy week and I consoled myself with the fact that I always work better with a deadline in place. My deadline is the end of Jan 2020, so no pressure yet.
I flipped the page and I viewed the list of punishments for not completing my tasks.
Shit! I have a crap memory so I never remember what I’ve written down until I go back and read it again and it always comes as a shock, the same thing applies to my writing. I can’t remember what I’ve written and I have to constantly re-read to make sure I’m still talking about the same subject all the way through. It’s a sign of a mithered mind.
The heaviest punishment was off the list anyway so I breathed a sigh of relief. I had managed to complete the accounts and they had carried 100 strokes per cheek with the brown strap for each individual set of accounts so 600 strokes of leather off the menu! WHOOP! Go me!
My jubilation was short lived. I read on.
The workshop is a huge shed my ex-husband used to virtually live in at the end of my garden and my ex has been gone a good few years now. I use the shed but I don’t use it properly and I needed the space freeing up so I could put it to better use. I want to clear it to put my recently acquired inflatable hot tub in it for the winter months so I could still use it. I didn’t clear the shed, the hot tub is now getting battered by the lousy weather and I may have to deflate it and put it away for the winter.
I need my hot tub, I need the therapeutic effects it has on my tension and stress build up over a day/week whatever. Glass of wine, a good book on the kindle and an hour in the hot tub in the evening is better than any tablet a doctor could prescribe! And, if it’s in the shed I get to go in it naked! Oh yes! No more flashing my breasts off to the neighbour who lives to the rear of my property.
Peeping Tom was out there again last night watching me as I climbed into the hot tub, the devil made me do it, I stood up and slid out of my swimsuit and flashed my bouncing beauties at him before I sank back down into the water and lifted my glass of wine to my smiling lips. I couldn’t hear anything because of the spa jets working but each time I glanced over I swear he was still stood there! It was dark so I couldn’t see that well. I did feel deliciously naughty though.
Hmm, perhaps I am something of an exhibitionist afterall. Anyway, I was in the privacy of my own garden which is well fenced and can only be viewed if you stand on something to see over the fence. He was standing on a large rock so it wasn’t me who started the whole peeping tom thing off! I have no remorse and the whole episode made my bottom and pussy tingle with excitement! He isn’t that bad looking either, the mature side of 45 I think but in relatively good shape from what I could see. He was new to the area and pretty much kept himself to himself. I hadn’t seen a wife or family in tow so I can only assume he’s single. No idea, I don’t really care to be honest, I’m happy flying solo and living inside my imagination and having a real relationship with my spanking implements. They never let me down or disappoint me.
Anyway, I digress…
Punishment for not completing the above task. 100 per cheek with the brown leather strap and 5 minutes corner time, followed by 12 with the cane and some tiger balm applied immediately after the spanking.
What the bloody hell was I thinking? I could take the strap, that was going to be okay, but the cane was a different matter. It hurt like hell over an already tenderised bottom.
For non-completion of the stats, 200 swats per cheek with the hairbrush followed by 5 minutes corner time and 6 strokes of the cane.
It’s official, I’ve taken leave of my senses!
Cleaning house or not in my case, 100 swats per cheek with the spatula, 5 minutes corner time and 6 strokes of the belt.
This was adding up to being a monstrous spanking again! It doesn’t pay to be lazy!
Not weeding the garden. In my defence the weather has been appallingly bad so I haven’t really been able to get out there and do it. Regardless, I had written down the punishment and I was going to have to see it through.
300 swats with the hairbrush. 150 to each cheek. No orgasms for 2 days, and write 100 lines saying, ‘I must not be lazy and I deserve a hard spanking.’ 20 minutes corner time. Obviously weeding the garden had been important to me at the time I wrote this list out! Shame I didn’t remember that bit! And really? What on earth was I thinking there? 100 lines? I was gonna end up with RSI from all that writing!
So the total punishment looked like this:
10 minute warm up hand spanking.
200 swats with the spatula (100 per cheek) 5 minutes corner time
700 (I kid you not) swats with the evil hairbrush (350 per cheek) 5 minutes corner time followed by applying tiger balm to my bottom and thighs.
6 strokes of the belt & 5 minutes corner time.
18 strokes with the cane followed by 20 minutes corner time.
Jesus christ almighty what on earth had possessed me to write that lot down?
I sucked it up though. I was going through with this because even I could see I was just being completely lazy and undisciplined and it had to stop! All of these tasks could have been completed easily and without too much effort either.
I took a deep breath and went off to the bedroom to prepare for my spanking. I had developed a little ritual now, I would sit at the kitchen table and read my tasks and punishments and I would then go upstairs and change into my spanking outfit. I would lay out the implements in the order they were to be used along with my list of instructions and then I would DRAW the bloody curtains! I was ready, I was dressed in my stockings, suspenders, white panties and bra and my stiletto heels. My bra was now a half cup lace bra in white and it was never designed to control or hold my puppies in place for longer than a nanosecond. I was fine with this, if they tumbled out it would remind me of Mr and Mrs Wilson and him tenting despite his best efforts to hide it.
I remembered I hadn’t locked the front door and I have friends and neighbours who will just randomly appear in my house. I had had enough of audience participation for now so I ran down the stairs and turned the key in the door.
I ran back upstairs, panting slightly, I am not given to running, it’s unbecoming and it makes you sweat quite frankly! It struck me as funny too, I was running towards a spanking instead of away from one? I’m beginning to wonder about me, you know!
Finally, I positioned myself over the end of the bed, I brought my hand back and began to deliver little sharp slaps over my panties, I quickly got bored with this routine and progressed almost immediately to dropping my panties around my ankles and began the real contact warm up. I wanted to feel the heat and I spanked hard for a good 10 minutes. I inspected my bottom at the end of the ten and was really surprised to see my bottom hadn’t really changed much in colour at all. It did no good to cut corners apparently. I got cross with myself and started the ten minute warm up hand spank all over again.
I checked at the end and this time I had the rosy glow of a well spanked bottom. A little heat, no sting just that yummy warmth that begins to creep through and along to my pussy to make it tingle slightly. I could feel my excitement ratcheting up a notch and I prepared myself to take 200 swats with the spatula.
Over the weeks I have been doing this, I have developed a style of delivery for each implement. The spatula works best if I hold it almost at the end of the handle shaft and bring the spank in from the side of my body rather than from above. I achieve a more accurate smack and it lands heavier and therefore sharper than the thud if I bring it down from above. The other bonus with this position is that I can catch both cheeks with one swat, that doesn’t mean I cheat either, I still delivered 100 swats to each cheek but it felt like I was receiving double. My juices were beginning to flow and mid way through the spanking I was moaning and rolling my hips, almost in delight at the throbbing and blooming across my bottom from the twin spanks it was receiving. It felt amazing and I slowed down to concentrate on the sensations I was getting.
I was desperate to run my fingers over my pussy but I kept thinking about the no orgasms for 2 days punishment and I remained true to my own dictate.
I finished the spatula spanks with a hurried flurry of sharp hard spanks to both my cheeks and thighs and finally I placed the spatula on the bed and stood up. I looked in the mirror behind me to inspect my bottom and I was rewarded with twin bruises forming in the centre of both cheeks. I fingered the bruises lightly, I stroked my nails across the surface of my bottom, I squeezed my cheeks a little and then I lifted my left leg and placed my foot on the bed exposing my wet pussy to the mirror. I quickly glanced over my shoulder to make sure the curtains were properly drawn and then ran my finger down my pussy lips, I didn’t push past them though, I stuck to the letter of the punishment. No orgasm had to mean no play or stroking. I did run my finger to my little butt hole, it was almost a virgin area the only visitor ever having been Mrs Wilson the other week and that was a very brief visit. I had so enjoyed the sensations she had created by just inserting her finger into the rim of my butt and I tried it myself now. Ooh… That was definitely something that was going to require further investigation when the ban was lifted. Sighing a little I put my raised foot back down on the floor and I walked over to the corner for 5 minutes of corner time. My panties were around one ankle so my usual ungainly stagger was not present and I actually missed it. I bent down and popped my panties back over my other foot and stood with them stretched between my two ankles. I felt better and a little silly for making a fuss about it. I used the emotion to chastise myself a little and I did my corner time, safe in the knowledge I was unobserved this time.
All too soon it was time to shuffle back to the end of the bed and assume the position for the 700 swats with the hairbrush. My pussy tightened and my bottom throbbed heavily just at the thought. I bent over and raised the brush to the side again, and delivered the first of many stinging slaps and spanks, wallops and swats all over my twin red globes and thighs. Jesus this hurt. After 100 swats I was panting and moaning a little and I realised I still had 600 to go!
The enormity of my task was now impacting my pain fuelled brain. I started to pace myself for the second set of 100. My cheeks were rosy everywhere and bright red in the centre where my aim appeared to be most true. I was letting out little yelps now with each swat and I was beginning to feel less horny and more punished. I kept up the pace and spanked and spanked until I reached the end of the first set of 350. Oh my life this hurt like hell! I hate that fucking hairbrush and it’s going in the bin! I took a short pause for a breath and smoothed my palm over my heated twin globes, I didn’t dare touch my thighs, they were burning! My skin felt so hot and dry! I glanced over to the dressing table with all my lotions and potions on it and had the brilliant idea of massaging some much needed moisture into my poor skin. I chose a lovely body lotion, not too thick and so very cooling and applied it all over my very red and sore bottom and thighs. I felt like I might have cheated a little but I consoled myself with the thought that I had to be kind to myself too, and my spankings weren’t about damaging me they were about disciplining me to adjust my bad behaviour. I rubbed a little of the lotion between my thighs and my clit sprang to life with a heavy throbbing all of its own. I was desperate to rub but I stopped myself. I bent over and retrieved the horrid hairbrush, 350 to go and I was doing this. I began with a sharp flurry of rapid hard spanks to both cheeks and JESUS CHRIST ALL FUCKING MIGHTY!! OMG!!! OMG!! OMG!!! The stinging was beyond anything I had ever experienced before! What the actual fuck had I done to myself? I later realised that adding any moisture to the spanking area was guaranteed to intensify the pain because it brought about better contact especially if the implement was made of wood! FUCK!!! Well moisturised arse was now singing LOUDLY to the choir and I had no option but to continue because I needed to do this spanking for myself.
I am of the mind these days, that if I start something to help me I must see it through to the end, this is one of my new mantras to try and get myself better organised and more in control of the shambles that is my daily life. Besides, I also reason that, had the spanking been being delivered by A.N.Other they would not be stopping because I had just made a tactical error of judgement and made my spanking worse for myself. In my head I could hear Mrs Wilson laughing with glee at my misfortune!
With tears in my eyes and a well bitten lip I assumed the position once more. I raised the hairbrush and brought down with a volley of well aimed spanks and I leapt about wailing and cursing and then repositioned and did it again and again. I had forgotten to count the first three volleys and had no idea how many spanks I had applied already so I started at 50 and let myself off from starting from scratch. I wanted this over now, it was so bloody painful.
Finally and none too soon I can tell you, I reached the end of the second set of 350 spanks with the soon to be burnt to a cinder, wooden hairbrush and I threw it across the room by the door. I threw myself onto my bed and sobbed and called myself all the names under the sun for my own stupidity for a full 5 minutes. Eventually, I remembered I still had plenty of spankings left to come so I clambered off the bed and read my instructions. My corner time had been eaten up with the pity party I had just allowed myself and I gulped and cringed at the next set of instructions. If I thought my bottom was hurting right now, it was about to get ten times worse. Tiger balm. Oh shit!
I shook my head in denial of what was to come, I picked up the tiny little innocuous looking jar and I unscrewed the lid. I dipped my finger into the pungent ointment and scooped out a small amount. I bent over the bed and rubbed it into my throbbing bottom and thighs. It didn’t go very far, I had to apply 4 lots to cover the whole area. NEVER, EVER, EVER, AGAIN!!!!
Not ever doing that to myself again! Never!
I was so upset with myself I told myself off in the mirror and said I deserved what ever punishment I had left.
I shuffled over to the corner and did my 5 minute corner time, by the end of that, I was on fire, literally on fire, my thighs were glowing red and my bottom was just raw heat! I read the next set of instructions and I laughed a little hysterically as I picked up the leather belt and doubled it over. I assumed the position lifting my bottom up high and I brought that belt across both cheeks the same way Mr Wilson had, I squealed, loudly, I brought the belt back and delivered a second heavy stroke, this time across my thighs, I was sobbing now, everything hurt so damn much, I ploughed quickly through the remaining 4 strokes of the belt and it flew across my buttocks like a whip I went so fast. Welts were appearing before I had even stood upright. I sniffled, I blew my runny nose and I wiped my eyes, I went and shuffled across to the door and kicked the hairbrush across the floor in temper. I stood with my nose pressed into the corner of the wall and my arms behind my back resting on the top of my buttocks. I didn’t know where I didn’t hurt, my thighs were just a solid block of pain and when I gingerly stroked my bottom I had twin solid patches on each cheek that wouldn’t move at all. It felt like two hard blocks of leather. I did 5 minutes in the corner and then shuffled back to the bed with my head down and I was feeling very sorry for myself. I picked up the cane, I positioned my bottom high, I raised my head slightly so I could view the strokes in the mirror, I raised the cane and brought it down for the first stroke! I felt it bite deeply into my traumatised bottom and I howled loudly. I didn’t care anymore, I raised that cane and I swung it down and across both cheeks, then the thighs then the cheeks again, I didn’t stop until I screamed out 12!
I put the cane down and picked up my instructions, I was finally at the end of my punishment and I was going to take great pleasure in ticking them all off my list.
I got to the canings and I placed a large tick right through the instruction. It was about then that my poor pain beleagured brain processed the number of strokes I was supposed to receive. I had done 12, I had screamed 12 I still had 6 to do. I had given myself 18 strokes of the cane! For Fucks SAKE!
I shook my head in utter despair and I retrieved the cane from up the bed, I bent over and I striped my arse with those last 6 strokes! I literally had a row of 6 stripes that looked like a damned sideways barcode!
I threw the cane down, I blew my nose and I shuffled over to the corner for my final 20 minutes of corner time. Oh my goodness, my poor bottom and thighs, my god I hurt! The painful throbbing was doubled by the heat of the tiger balm and the moisture still in my skin from the lotion I had applied. Canes are wooden too. Bollocks!
I remained in the corner for the whole 20 minutes, I was not going to cheat at this late stage because I would only end up punishing myself for cheating if I did. I saw the punishment through to the very bitter painful end and I vowed once more to learn from my mistakes, to correct my silly behaviour, to stop being lazy and to start acting like the responsible professional adult I was supposed to be, I needed to step into the role I presented to the outside world and actually start living the life others thought I did. A well organised, self employed successful business woman who had the tiger by tail and a smile on my lips while doing so. I knew how to act it, but I was never really completely present in my heart for it. I could win an oscar for my performance in the boardrooms I frequented, but underneath it all I was still rebelling against the authority, I was still fighting with the formality of it all and I hated the fucking rules that came because of it!
I had to stop breaking the rules. Before I broke my bottom and thighs!
It took two weeks for the spanking bruises to begin to fade. It took a week for them all to come out! Every time I moved, sat, stood, turned over in bed, bent down, ran up the stairs, pulled on a pair of trousers or jeans, I got flashbacks from the Wilsons spanking! I had run the gauntlet of every range of emotion I have ever experienced in my life in the last two weeks. I have been angry at myself, dismayed with myself, shocked at myself. I have laughed at the thought of ‘riding the cowboy while having a rump slapping hump, a poke, a tupping and a good seeing too’. I almost wet myself I laughed so hard at the images that kept popping into my head every time I thought about ‘riding the cowboy’. If you had seen Mr Wilson, you would understand completely. Here was a man who knew where his talents lay and words were definitely not one of them. To be fair, they were unique in their descriptive tone and they definitely built a picture, one that horrified me even while it fascinated me.
I was never angry at the Wilsons. They have righteous indignation on their side and they absolutely adore each other and are a wonderful team. It wasn’t their fault I was in the middle of a mid life crisis and desperate to be spanked. I understand how they could be offended by my thoughtless actions. I truly believe they were well within their rights to deal with the matter as they did, and I will add, that while I may not have covered it in the telling of the spankings, Mr Wilson did infact spend a long time on that first visit talking to me, after I had told him my side of what he had witnessed. It became apparent to me quite early on in the conversation that Mr Wilson was very much a disciplinarian and he wholeheartedly embraces the idea of CP as a way of dealing with a problem. I talked with him at length about my childhood spankings and how they made me feel like I was answerable and how it helped me ‘colour inside the lines’ even if it was only ever for a short time. I was not psychologically damaged by my punishments because they had been delivered with love and an explanation so that I could learn about consequence for every action taken. It had stood me in good stead throughout my early adult life as I towed the line to avoid the embarassment of being spanked in front of my Aunt or Uncle, or Nan and Grandad or Mum and Dad. They all loved me, I never felt abused as many people call it now, I saw and understood it for what it was. Punishment for a misdeed that was deserving of a spanking. In my world, it was simple but effective.
Mr Wilson broached the subject of a strict discipline spanking from him and his wife as a way to teach me a much needed lesson in self-discipline. He explained that they lived a very happy domestic discipline lifestyle and their marriage was much stronger and more honest for it. They would discipline each other whenever the need would arise and there were never any harsh rows or recriminations between them because they had dealt with the issue in the most fitting manner. I was fascinated and utterly drawn in by his description of their world. Had I had a marriage like that with that level of trust and understanding perhaps I would still be married today and getting all the spanking I wanted or needed without the need to go to the lengths I had gone to!
I happily accepted his proposal and he phoned his wife and told her of his suggestion, she was happy to go ahead and she agreed he would lay down the terms of the spanking.
He gave me a safe word I could use, if, when the spanking got under way I felt I was not coping with it, or I was frightened, or I thought he had gone outside what we had agreed, and he would stop immediately. I should never feel like I was not safe and secure at all times. It didn’t stop me thinking about stabbing him in the eye with the filleting knife though! … Just sayin’
He told me he would fly close to the edges of our agreement and would take things to their absolute limit and he would not give me details in advance but it would definitely be within the boundaries we had set and agreed upon. Mrs Wilson’s involvement in the spanking had definitely been pushing those boundaries to their absolute limit, but afterwards I could see that he had listened to my explanations about my childhood spankings and had drawn his influences from the double humiliation of being spanked in front of an audience. He had said he didn’t know whether Mrs Wilson would get involved but that as long as I agreed in advance that she could if she chose to, he would decide on the day whether it would happen or not. I had agreed, but I had stated that I would prefer not to have an audience for my humiliation. He scolded me at that time and told me I could not set the rules of the spanking only the edges they could go to. Anything that happened from that point on was up to him and his wife and I would comply or I could expect to be punished further. Everything that happened immediately after that conversation was completely consensual because we had agreed I was to consider myself open to punishment at any time from the moment I gave my consent to him spanking me. I was in the punishment zone, effective immediately.
That whole conversation has to be the most bizzare conversation I have ever had in my entire life but I was so relieved to be able to share my story with someone who would understand and not only that had offered assistance in a way that was ideally suited to my current state of mind. I needed what he was offering and I would have been a fool to have turned it down. He was very caring and courteous about the whole thing and I realised he really knew what he was about. I went into it with both eyes open and I also trusted them both to keep their word. In turn, they trusted me not to tell anyone about their domestic discipline lifestyle, because, while they were deeply religious people and devout church attendees, they did not attend a church that followed that particular style of life. Theirs is a more modern religion and CP isn’t on their approved list of methods of punishment. They had a lot to lose if they were ever exposed!
Anyway, that’s the back story for the involvement of the Wilsons and why I just seemed to accept being treated that way in the telling of the story. It was entirely consensual.
So, back to my very sore bottom, thighs and throbbing fanny!
By the end of the first week after the Wilsons spanking I was beginning to view my experience through slightly different eyes. My bottom was now throbbing happily every time I sat down. The pain was no longer pain, it was a sensual reminder of what had happened and my clit had started to throb every time I had a flashback, especially when I flashed back to Mrs Wilson’s part in the spanking. Mrs Wilson pushed as far and as hard as she could to the limits of our boundaries and I let her. I could have protested, I could have used the safe word because she really did fly close to the bone with her finger probing but Oh my god! it was so exciting and it intensified everything to an almost unbearable level. I really thought she was going to push her finger all the way inside my pussy and I will admit I was disappointed when she stopped and resumed the spanking. I reached for an orgasm all afternoon and evening after they had gone, even when I had been sat in the sink I tried, nothing. Not a thing. My clit was on strike for three days. That was a shocker! I was not used to going so long without some light relief! By default, I had learned about edging and to be fair, I could live without that knowledge forevermore!
Since my divorce and the arrival of my solo life I have indulged my newly reawakened interest in my own body. I never bothered while I was married, my husband was a bore in the bedroom and would rather we didn’t actually. I don’t consider myself to be the most beautiful woman in the world but I do think I am still quite attractive and his attitude had always confused and hurt me deeply because I assumed the failing was mine. He was good at making me feel that way and he withheld all affection unless he wanted something. Since my divorce I have found that it wasn’t me, he was playing with men and I could not compete as I did not have the necessary body parts to hold his interest. I wouldn’t have bothered trying to compete anyway, by the time I found out, I just wanted him gone. We had been on the outs for longer than we had ever been happy and it was time to call time on our non-marriage.
He never came out as gay, I would have respected him more if he had been that honest, he just said he liked to have a play with a bloke sometimes, I invited him to go play with a bloke all the time and get the fuck out of my life. At that point, my lowest point, I believe I was actually relieved we had not had sex for a good number of years! At least I didn’t have to worry about std’s or anything like that! Anyway…
The spanking I had received from the Wilsons had made me very introspective and I was examining all areas of my life and assessing where I could improve myself, my attitude, I was even looking closely at previous situations I had found myself in and was being honest enough to admit that I too had been responsible for the outcome of quite a lot of the events.
I’m not a wild person, I don’t go feral, well, not often, but I do disregard rules on a regular basis and dance to the beat of my own drum most of the time. It’s a wonderful thing, freedom. You can decide who you want to be on any given day and not have to worry about compromise or someone else’s feelings on the matter. This has allowed me to become much more openly interested in the darker more kinky side of my sexual nature. I do love to explore erotica as a means for turning me on and I do play for hours with my toys, I suppose you could say I am tripping over into a hedonistic mindset but I don’t really care because I never involve anyone else. I just fly solo. The Wilsons were a very happy mistake that turned out to be one of the best spanking sessions I have ever experienced. Would I do it again? Probably not. What are the odds of me ever having that kind of situation happen again? Spanking is never talked about openly, it’s always behind closed doors and if it is mentioned at all it is always run down by the moral squad and called abusive, dangerous to one’s mind in later years and should be abolished completely. Then those same hypocrites go home, spank their wives or husbands and have a rip roaring sex session because of it! So, the possibility of me finding another person to spank me disappears down the swanny before I’ve even closed the chapter on this one! I know Mr and Mrs Wilson will not come back to spank me again, they told me it was a one time deal and I did lose him as my window cleaner too. To be honest, the new window cleaner is a lot sweeter on the eye and he reaches all the corners of the windows too. Perhaps I should leave my spanking implements out on the bed one day when he’s due to clean the windows?
I am feeling more and more like I should go back to my original plan of self spanking so that I can at least experience some form of regular discipline. I know I need it, my contrition for my actions toward Mr Wilson is fading fast because my fingers keep finding my sweet spot every time my bottom throbs or my thighs tighten and tingle, especially when I look at that spanking strap Mr Wilson left behind. Damn it I really want to feel that across my bottom again but I know it’s going to be at least another week before I can even attempt a spanking of my own.
Mr Wilson was very wrong in his assessment of my spanking skills, I do not flick my wrist as he put it, I am very adroit at raising high and landing hard and full when I spank and I can tell you, I rarely if ever slow down the speed or power with which I spank myself. I want to feel that bite, I am looking for those bruises to bloom and that heat to sear me. It makes me feel vitally alive and I actively crave the feeling of humiliating myself and chastising myself. That makes me sound quite crazy but I can assure you, I am just enjoying the edges of my darker nature. It’s a very interesting place to spend some time right now.
I need another spanking and very, very soon. I need to make a list of tasks that I must complete and set my schedule up again. My pussy is getting moist just thinking about it. Looks like the cane, the hairbrush, the spatula and now the leather strap are all off the hook from a bonfire and are firmly back in favour. I will give myself a week to complete my tasks and then over the end of the bed or maybe even the kitchen table, in just bra, panties, suspenders and stockings and a lovely pair of black 4″ stiletto heels (I treated myself to after the Wilson spanking,) for me!
I did enjoy taking off my dress in front of Mr Wilson, I especially enjoyed seeing his reaction when my breasts fell out of my bra and bounced around freely as I went over Mrs Wilson’s knee. He tented by the way. That gave me a little moo of satisfaction I can tell you. He was so up his own arse about being faithful and true to his lovely little wife, but when he copped a look at my bouncing beauties he was standing to attention within a few seconds! He was positively squirming in his seat when my legs flew wide open and his wife was fingering me. It was one of the reasons why I never called the safe word. I wanted to watch him watch us and wish it was him doing it! Revenge comes in all shapes and sizes, I bet she walloped his arse and good when they got home because I know she saw the huge bulge in the front of his pants and she tutted. Maybe she even got to go for a ride on the cowboy?
All images courtesy of the internet except the ruler and spatula, they are mine.
So after the very painful spanking I received first at my own hand and then at the hands of my window cleaner Mr Wilson, I decided I should regroup and have a good think about what I was getting myself into. This was actually a step forward in common sense thinking for me, instead of just flying by the seat of my pants ( I was still too bruised anyway) I was now actively thinking about the ramifications of my actions.
Mr Wilson was quite correct in his assessment of my stupidity! I had let him in with no thought to my safety. He had spanked me so hard I wet myself, and strapped me into the bargain. I could not have stopped him even if I had wanted to, and if I’m honest, at the time, I didn’t want to. It may have been a very humiliating and painful experience for me, but I finally had a working knowledge of what a real spanking from a strong man was like.
The fact that he had gotten hold of the wrong end of the stick completely, (I am still stuck at the rump slapping hump and will not ever look up at the riding of the cowboy imagery) is more my fault than his. I did nothing to hide my appearance once I knew he was there, choosing instead to continue with my corner time with my red bottom fully on show, and now he was coming back for round two.
In truth, I feel I really did deserve any punishment he wanted to hand out to me, I still felt there was room for further discipline because I was so ashamed of my actions. Besides, the naughty side of my brain (which is huge… the naughty side is huge, not my brain) kept pointing out to me that here is a man who is not just able but ultimately willing to give me another spectacular spanking! I wouldn’t have to do it myself, and in fairness, I could never spank myself the way he had been able to spank me.
I only had three days left to make a decision and I was leaning towards opening the door to him if he decided to carry out his threat. He probably wouldn’t turn up anyway.
Three days later.
He turned up. He rang the doorbell three times and knocked heavily on the door. I think he thought I may have been cowering in the bathroom or something so he made sure he knocked really loudly. I was ready for him though, I was dressed in my spanking outfit, complete with white panties ( I would never make the mistake of answering the door without them on again!) and I opened the door on his third knock. I was cool and composed and in control of my emotions this time. I could handle this. It was just a spanking for goodness sake, I had already had a flavour of what he would be like. I had no lasting damage from the previous spanking and that was on top of the spanking I had given myself. I was going through with this. I had to. I hadn’t had a spanking for two whole weeks and I was getting very antsy. I needed the discipline. (That was how I justified being this level of stupid to myself).
‘Ms Strong. I am here to give you your spanking as previously arranged and agreed with yourself, may I step in?’ He was so damned formal! I almost giggled but caught myself just in time. I stepped back from the door and nodded that he could enter. He wiped his shoes on my carpet, (why do people do that? it’s not a bloody doormat, it’s my carpet!) he removed his cap from his head and of the two of us, I would say he was more nervous. I was not going to go out of my way to put him at ease. That was a fools game. This man had no sense of humour and it could only backfire on me if I tried to lighten the mood with a quick quip. For once I kept my mouth tightly shut. I closed the front door behind him and then invited him through to the kitchen. No sense in going any further into the house and definitely not upstairs, he might think I was looking for a rump slapping hump again, or even a tupping, I must not think about riding the cowboy!
‘Would you like a pot of tea Mr Wilson?’ I asked demurely. I know! I was being demure! who knew I could pull that off?
‘I don’t think that will be necessary Ms Strong, we have business to attend to and there is no sense in prevarication, we should get along with the proceedings.’ He was being very, very proper to the point of pompous! Okay, so we were just going to dive straight into the hard stuff, no preamble, no chit chat, no easing into it. I shrugged my shoulders slightly and thought about saying I had changed my mind, but I hadn’t and I didn’t. Of course I didn’t. I wanted to have this spanking. My bottom was tingling with equal measures of dread and anticipation and I was already quite moist between my thighs. Isn’t excitement an absolute bastard? It can con you into the worst kind of situations!
I turned to face him and realised he had removed his jacket and his belt while I had been messing around with the now redundant teapot. I gulped when I saw that belt. I consoled myself with the idea that I knew what it would feel like so it wasn’t going to be quite as big a shock as last time, but just in case I had already been to the bathroom on a bladder emptying mission. There are some levels of humiliation that are best avoided at all costs!
I waited silently for some kind of instruction from him and when none was forthcoming I cleared my throat and looked him straight in the eye as I spoke. ‘So as you are in control of this situation Mr Wilson, perhaps you would be good enough to tell me what you would like me to do next? This is all very new to me and I have no wish to offend you further.’
Mr Wilson looked me up and down and pursed his lips while he thought.
‘You caned yourself you said. Last time? You took 12 strokes of the cane, is that right?’
I nodded, where was this going?
‘Hmm, I do believe that would be a fine starting point, you should go and retrieve that item and bring it to me. You may also bring the hairbrush and the spatula you were using as well. I’m sure you can lay your hands on those items easily?’ He was getting into it now, and I could see he was beginning to enjoy playing the role of disciplinarian!
My eyes had gone like saucers again and I know I looked like a deer in the head lamps. He had blindsided me completely with this track. I thought it would be a repeat performance of last time, a hard hand spanking and 6 with the strap, job done. I stayed where I was as a hundred thoughts raced through my head.
He thumped his hand down on the table to get my attention, ‘what are you still standing there for? Go and get the items I have requested, NOW!’
I ran from the kitchen and bolted up the stairs to my bedroom, I considered locking myself in and then thought better of it. I would have to come out eventually, and I had a feeling he would just come and take the door of it’s hinges to get me anyway. I have a very vivid imagination, the possibilities are endless!
I retrieved the items he had asked for and I hurried back down the stairs to the kitchen. I placed the three implements on the table and noticed that alongside his belt there was now a flexible leather strap. It was a long thin brown affair, much the same shape as my spatula except that it did not fan out at the end and was roughly 1″ wide the whole length.
I felt an increase in the tingling of my bottom and between my thighs and I could feel myself beginning to tremble. This day was rapidly turning into a trip down the rabbit hole again. Nothing was happening the way I had thought it would. But then, why should it? I thought he wouldn’t go through with it at all, so anything after that was always going to be throwing me off kilter. I was in the dark here and had no idea what would happen next. This served to give me a rush of adrenaline like I had never had before. I could almost hear my blood surging through my body and felt it travel straight to the surface of my bottom in preparation of what was to come.
Mr Wilson pushed back his chair from the table and stood up. He beckoned to me to join him and I tentatively walked around the table to where he stood.
‘Now then Ms Strong, assume the position over the side of the table please.’
I looked at him startled, ‘But… I thought… aren’t you going to hand spank me first?’
Mr Wilson stared at me, ‘Oh you will receive a very hard hand spanking Ms Strong, but all in good time. I feel a need to provide you with a practical demonstration of what these little implements you have gathered should feel like when applied in the correct manner. None of this wrist flicking business, a good solid whack will do it, nothing less. Bend over the table, now.’
I stepped forward, I was shaking from head to foot, I wasn’t getting a warm up spanking to ease me into it then. Shit! This was going to hurt like blazes. I bent over the table and leaned on my forearms with my head down and I waited, I felt a cool draft around my thighs as the hem of my dress was lifted and tucked into the back of the dress belt. My white panties and black suspender belt and stockings were now on show to him. I felt his hand smooth itself across the seat of my panties and I felt a light pat on my left cheek, then a heavier smack on my right. I hardly dared to breath lest I disturbed him and he stopped doing the warm up. He carried on with the mid level spanks of the hand and distributed sharp little smacks all over my bottom and thighs for a good 10 minutes. He never spoke a word, just got into his rhythm of smack, smack, pause, smack, smack, pause, smack, smack, smack smack, pause, smack, smack, smack, smack. It began to feel warm but I was also feeling wet between my thighs. I rolled my hips a little and was rewarded with a very sharp slap to each of my thighs. I yelped.
‘Ms Strong, if you so much as move a muscle without my permission you will receive 6 with the cane do I make myself clear?’
‘Yes Mr Wilson.’ Shit, he was strict!
Without any further preamble, I felt his fingers at the waist band of my panties and then felt the cool air brush across my naked exposed bottom and fanny. He had a birds eye view of both and I knew he could see how wet I was. I heard him tut. I had come to recognise that tut as a very bad thing indeed for my bottom and I began to tremble again. Quite suddenly his hand came down extremely hard and fast on my right cheek and then immediately on my left cheek I yowled at the very sharp pain that seared my bottom. He rained down at least 100 very hard spanks on each cheek before he paused to stroke the twin red globes and feel the heat they were now generating. He ran his fingers lightly over the surface and down along my fanny lips, he brought the wetness back and rubbed it into my bottom. He repeated this action twice, and I was itching to moan, on his third trip along my fanny lips he pushed his finger between the folds and pinched my clit between his thumb and finger, hard. It throbbed and I couldn’t help myself, I moaned loudly. So much for him being the faithful type I thought cynically! As I moaned, he brought his hand sharply across the back of my thighs a dozen slaps to each thigh had me yelping and biting my lip to stop me swearing.
‘Stand up.’ He ordered from behind me.
I stood up and faced him, he lifted my chin between his fingers and he inspected my face. ‘Hmm’ was all he said. ‘Bend over and touch your toes and spread your legs slightly.’
I did as I was asked and I felt him position himself to the left of my bottom. He leaned across me to retrieve something from the table and the next thing I knew I had a searing heat spreading rapidly across my cheeks and my fanny lips! I screamed and jumped up.
‘Assume the position NOW’ he roared behind me and I quickly grabbed my ankles again. The next stroke came almost immediately and this time I heard the familiar whoosh of the cane as it cut through the air on it’s way to my bottom, it landed flush across the back of my thighs and I wailed loudly but I didn’t move. I took 12 of those little bastard strokes and I was sobbing my heart out by the time he had done them too.
He once again stopped and began stroking my bottom and thighs and fanny lips feeling the heat from the welts the cane had produced and I swear I heard him chuckle!
‘Now, I was going to stop at 12 Ms Strong but I did instruct you not to move a muscle without my permission and you did more than just move you jumped right up! You shall receive a further 12 for disobeying me, but not yet… You may have those at the end of the session. Re-position yourself over the table please but keep your legs spread and take those knickers off, you can remove the dress as well, it is a distraction.’
I did as I was told and removed my panties, I was completely shocked at the demand for my dress to be removed and I hoped against all hope this was not going somewhere I had not agreed to, in my head I began to work out where my kitchen knives were in relation to my position and I relaxed a little when I realised I could run and grab one before he would realise what I was going to do.
‘Please Mr Wilson, why do I need to remove my dress?’ I asked very timidly so as not to anger him, he was an absolute bull of a man but he appeared to be extremely calm today and I preferred this over his demeanour of a fortnight ago.
‘To humiliate you of course. You had no problem parading everything around for me to see two weeks ago. You will stand here naked while I paddle your bottom and thighs and fanny with your big heaving breasts popping out of that ridiculously inadequate bra you’re wearing. You will learn that I am as strict as any decent headmaster and as unforgiving as one too. Remove your clothing Ms Strong and stop with this prevarication or I will add 6 to the total cane strokes at the end.’
That was all the incentive I needed, off came the dress and I placed it over the back of the chair.
‘Bend over,’ he instructed. I bent over the table and leaned on my forearms again.
He picked up the hairbrush first and swatted my bottom with it on both cheeks. He put it down again and reached for the spatula. He swatted my bottom and appeared to be satisfied with his choice of weapon because the next thing I knew my arse exploded in a torrent of pain as he thwacked that spatula hard and fast across both buttocks and my thighs, my poor thighs, OMFG they were on fire. He placed his other hand in the centre of my back and pressed down so that I did not, or could not move out of my position. This went on for what seemed like hours and actually was about 30 minutes. He kept stopping to stroke my bottom and fanny to feel the heat and he would slap my thighs a few times with his hands while he stroked and then he would start again with the spatula.
‘Very effective little implement Ms Strong, I commend you on your choice!’ He actually chuckled as he placed the spatula back on the table and picked up his belt. I heard the buckle rattle as he doubled the heavy leather belt in his hand. He laid it on my cheeks and slid it across them. I began to really shake. I locked my knees and kept my head down and my eyes tightly shut. The belt slid off my bottom and then came back with such force it felt like I was being bitten on my buttocks! I screamed and tried to move out of the way, he delivered a series of hand spanks to the back of my thighs that made them sting like crazy and I danced about on the spot squealing! ‘Stay in position woman!’ He demanded. He delivered another searing stroke of the belt this time it came across both cheeks and flicked across my fanny lips! I yowled like a dog but held my position, mainly because I had no choice, he was holding me in place again. Another stroke followed and then another, two more strokes caught my thighs and I was gone. I was sobbing, screaming, hiccuping, snot was running down from my nose, my face was soaked with tears and was probably as crimson as my throbbing bottom!
He stopped, I heard the belt land on the table at the side of me and I shuddered with relief. He had finished.
He stood at the side of me and stroked and petted my welt covered crimson backside, and he crooned over his own handy work. Muttering ‘beautiful’ to himself over and over as he stroked and squeezed the crimson welts, he ran his finger down between my legs and he laughed, ‘Not so wet now Ms Strong, I think you now understand the difference between a proper discipline spanking and the pretend spanking you give yourself to get yourself all worked up and wet. You aught to be ashamed of your wanton behaviour! That kind of thing leads to the ruin of many a good woman! Go and stand in the corner for 15 minutes with your hands behind your back and resting on your waist, the way you did in your bedroom. DO NOT RUB your behind, or we shall start at the beginning and redo everything you have already received.’ He was very, very pleased with himself!
I ran to the corner and stood there with my arms folded behind my back. I was sobbing quietly, sniffling and moaning as the tears dripped of my chin in an unchecked race to the ground. My bottom and thighs were just a mass of searing agony and I could not think in a straight line any longer. I had been stood there for about 12 minutes and my bottom was now alive and screaming with pain, my fanny was throbbing wildly and my thighs burned like they were on fire. Behind me I could hear Mr Wilson type a number into his mobile phone. I heard the ringing, I realised he had his phone on loud speaker. A female voice answered,
‘Hello dear, it’s me, Norman.’ He shouted into the phone.
‘Don’t shout dear, I can hear you perfectly well. Have you finished yet?’ She asked.
‘No, I’m still at the Strong woman’s house administering her punishment, I wonder if you would like to come over and partake in the rest of the proceedings? It’s only round the corner, should only take you a minute to get here, what do you think?’
‘Oh yes Norman, that would be lovely, thank you my dear. I’ll be along in a minute.’
‘Good, good! Bring the tiger balm with you dear, we shall need it.’
‘I’ll be there in a jiffy, bye bye!’ Such a friendly little phone call! It sounded like they were planning a fucking picnic, while I was standing here with my arse and fanny on show glowing like the red light district on a Saturday night in Amsterdam!
What the actual fuck was going on? He was inviting his wife around to MY house to take part in my spanking while I stood pretty much stark naked in the middle of my kitchen? No fucking way was this happening!
I turned around furious with him for his assumption I would just take this lying down and I opened my mouth to speak when I saw him tut and lift the cane. He swished it through the air a few times and my bravado left me abruptly. I quickly turned around to face the corner again and closed my eyes in despair. What had I come to? How low was I going to allow myself to sink? Stupid, stupid, stupid bloody woman, I had no one to blame but myself and now I was in a really sticky situation. I was completely at the mercy of this man and he was a sadist of the first order! On the plus side, if his wife was coming over, I didn’t have to worry about stabbing him in the eye with my filleting knife if he tried to have a rump slapping hump with me! Ride em fucking cowboy would be minus a cock and balls if he did try it though! A moment later a diminutive little woman came striding in through the back door. ‘Fuck me, walk right in why don’t you!’ I thought fuming silently.
I heard her peck her husband on the cheek as she bustled and rustled behind me. I assume she was removing her coat, it sounded like she was.
Mr Wilson came and stood on my right side and Mrs Wilson came and stood on my left side. ‘Bend over and place your hands on the wall, spread your legs wide please.’ Mr Wilson instructed and I did as I was told. My humiliation was complete, all my nether regions were open and on full show to an audience of two. I felt cold fingers stroking my bottom and then run along my fanny lips and I gasped with shock as I felt her cold stiff little fingers push between my fanny lips and rub my clit and flick it with her fingers. SHE WAS FEELING ME UP?? WTF?! I made to stand up and I was protesting loudly when a hard stinging series of slaps were delivered to my legs just below my very red thighs.
‘You are a wanton woman Ms Strong! I find it quite shocking that you are so very wet between the legs after such a sound spanking from my husband! I fear it will need to be a very severe punishment indeed to teach you some much needed discipline and decorum. You are undoubtedly without morals! Now, assume your position or it will be a further 12 with the belt for you madam!’
Fuck! She was a miniature tyrant! I rapidly decided to err on the side of caution and assumed the position once again. No point fighting against this anymore, I had finally accepted that I was in it for the long haul whether I liked it or not! I couldn’t stab two of them in the eye with the fillet knife! I bowed to the inevitable.
I heard rather than saw her unscrewing something and I wondered what the hell was going to happen next when she began to rub something smelly and sticky into my bottom and thighs and across the welt that had caught my fanny lips. It was cold … mmm… cooling… nice… what the… heat? More heat? WTF was that stuff? I turned my head to look at her, and she was grinning at me like a fucking Cheshire cat! She held up the little jar of tiger balm heat rub and showed it to me.
‘This should keep the heat going nicely dear! Face the wall please we are about to begin. You must not move, he doesn’t like it when you move. He will be very harsh with the cane I can assure you. I have experienced that particular wrath only once but I learned my lesson well. Be a good girl and do as your told, it will all be over in a short while.’ She was positively fucking gleeful!
I was sobbing loudly, my arse and fanny and thighs were burning up with the cream she had rubbed into them. OMG this was pure torture.
I stared hard at the wall and then dropped my head and closed my eyes as the first of the strappings began. I couldn’t tell at first if it was his belt or that brown leather strap he had put on the table, at this point I didn’t care I just wanted it to be over.
100 strokes of the brown leather strap to each cheek later, the tanning (and it was an arse tanning of the first order) finally stopped.
‘Come over here and lay over my lap please.’ Mrs Wilson instructed.
I once again looked startled as I stood up straight.
‘Your lap?’ I questioned.
‘Yes dear, I’m going to finish off your disciplining for you. Mr Wilson will sit and watch the proceedings and have a little rest. He isn’t as young as he once was and this days work has taken it out of him. Come now, it’s almost over. Pop yourself over here and lets get on.’
I nearly ran to her, I was so relieved, my goodness me, this would be so much better than his very heavy handed spanking and strapping of me. No way she could pack a wallop like he could. I positioned myself over her lap and to my utter dismay my breasts tumbled out of my bra cups and wobbled about freely now they were unrestrained. I attempted to put them away and she slapped my hand sharply with the hairbrush.
‘Leave them be, Mr Wilson will want to keep an eye on them. He does enjoy a good look at a firm pair of breasts and yours are absolutely delightful my dear. Now, down you go!’
She pressed my head and shoulders down over the other side of her knees and I assumed the position. The first time I realised I had jumped out of the frying pan and into the fire was when the volley of vicious spanks arrived delivered by the evil hairbrush. They were delivered with such force I screamed. My mind and bottom went blessedly numb at this point and the only thing I can really remember clearly is the loud relentless thwacking sound of the hairbrush thumping against the twin solid, heavily bruised cheeks of my bottom, my thighs, one landed full across my fanny, I screamed and squealed and kicked out, which earned a volley of slaps on my thighs, I sobbed and begged to be let up, I pleaded for it to stop, I babbled how sorry I was for my terrible behaviour, I screamed how I had learned my lesson and would never behave in such a way again, but it continued and she was relentless in her slapping and spanking and stroking and squeezing and then more volleys of rage from the hairbrush fell everywhere for ages because she was fresh as a fucking DAISY! She assured me she wasn’t tired at all and she would do her very best to finish off Mr Wilson’s work to his exacting high standard. She stopped suddenly a took a short break between volleys, to stroke her handy work, petting my bottom, rubbing her finger over my fanny lips, pushing it in and flicking my clit, pushing her thumb just inside my pussy, just opening it up, rimming my butt hole with her thumb, I was bucking like a bronco at this point and moaning and groaning like I was having an orgy! Just when I thought I would suffer the ultimate humiliation of being turned on so much she was going to give me a screaming orgasm she began spanking me again with a vicious volley of really hard smacks against my cheeks, my thighs, a few over my lower thighs and five over my fanny lips. 40 fucking minutes of pure torture later the final thwack was delivered and the brush was laid down on the floor. I lay there sobbing my heart out, crying like a baby and trembling from head to foot. She patted me awkwardly on the shoulder as she instructed me, ‘Do get up now dear, we’re almost done. Just a matter of those cane strokes and I think a good dozen with the belt too, and then we can be on our way.’
I stumbled off her knee, and was instantly caught around the waist and bent over by Mr Wilson who delivered 12 stinging strokes of the cane in very quick succession. I was howling like a banshee. He passed me over to her and she walked me through the kitchen and into the lounge. What on earth…?
Before I could form a cohesive sentence I was pushed down over the arm of the sofa and she spread my legs as I buried my face in the soft cushions. The first of the 12 stinging, biting, evil blows from the belt landed and I danced on the spot and howled, the second followed a moment later landing in exactly the same spot as the first. Right across my sit spot! The third landed less than a belt width above the fourth covered it perfectly, the fifth came and I stopped caring where they were landing I stopped counting too. It would all be over after this, it would all be over after this, it would…
Quite suddenly it all stopped.She let me go and I stumbled into an upright position, my teeth were chattering, I was sobbing uncontrollably and I didn’t know where to hug myself first. Mr Wilson took my arm and guided me back into the kitchen, ‘Stand to attention and cross your arms behind your back, you will remain in this position until we leave. If you move, I will re-do the strapping my good wife has just delivered!’
I stared at them mutely as they turned away from me and ignored me completely as they gathered their belongings together and chatted away like they had just been for lunch.
Mr Wilson assisted Mrs Wilson into her coat, and handed her her gloves and hat, she held his coat out for him and he thanked her as he took it from her.
Finally, he turned and stared at me very hard for a whole minute and I began to panic in case he had changed his mind. He spoke in a very stern voice as he pointed a finger at me. ‘You are a very silly woman, Ms Strong. Perhaps you will think twice now before you parade your spanked bottom in front of an honest window cleaner going about his work. I hope you treat your next window cleaner with more respect than you have shown me. We shall let ourselves out, do make sure to lock the door behind us. The world is full of terrible people these days and you can’t be too careful!’ He turned away from me and I breathed a sigh of relief. Mrs Wilson stood watching me and a small frown played across her face. Was she actually feeling sorry for me? Not a fucking chance in hell, and her parting words confirmed it.
‘In my honest opinion Gemma Strong, you have gotten off very lightly here today. When my dear husband informed me of the shenanigans of a fortnight ago, I was utterly furious with you for forcing him into this terrible situation. We are good god fearing people Gemma and we do not take kindly to wanton women exposing themselves to us. You should thank your lucky stars Mr Wilson decided as he was the victim in all of this he should be the one to administer the required punishment. I wanted to do it because I knew he would go easy on you. I would not have, you would have been spanked for at least another hour if I had my way. Learn your lesson well, if we ever see you or your bottom again I will personally see to it that every single person in this village will know of your antics and your punishment! We shall take our leave now and leave you to consider your behaviour.’
A minute later, they were gone and I was alone, a dishevelled mess standing in the middle of my kitchen with tears running down my face, my bottom and fanny and thighs were completely solidly numb and I wondered if I would ever get any feeling back in them at all. I was utterly humiliated and devastated. I gathered up all the spanking implements they had left behind and realised they had left their brown leather strap on the table. I wasn’t giving it back to them, I was going to have a fucking bonfire with the whole sorry lot and burn it all to ashes. Never again was I ever going to want a spanking from anyone including myself. Learn my lesson? I learnt a life time of lessons that afternoon, and it transpired it had all taken just over two hours from start to finish.
I crawled upstairs and went straight to the bathroom to run a bath. I threw in every relaxing potion I could find to sooth my overheated blisteringly painful skin which felt like it had set into a solid block around my hips. Nothing moved freely. Nothing moved at all.
I sank gratefully into the water and after a second or two I screamed loudly and sprang from the bath like I had sat on a red hot poker! That fucking cream they had rubbed in was now burning double time on my arse! I filled the sink up with cold water and I sat in it for three hours straight! As I sat there I vowed I would never, ever, ever fantasise about wanting a good hard spanking again. I never wanted to be spanked again! I was done with this, it was torture and I must have been mental to have invited it! I only had myself to blame for this and I would never forget the lessons I had learnt. The were permanently etched into my bottom and thighs and my poor, poor fanny!
Mr Wilson took a seat at the kitchen table and waited as I fumbled my way through making a cup of tea for us both. He cleared his throat to get my attention.
‘I’m a bit fussy ’bout my tea Ms, do you have a teapot you can brew it in? I don’t like this teabag in a cup lark, it smacks of cheap and you only get one brew. I’ve a feeling we’re goin’ to be here a while. A nice china tea service would go a long way in your favour right now.’
I was instantly fuming. Cheeky sod, it wasn’t enough he had threatened to spank me, now he was bossing me around in my own bloody kitchen! Cheek of the man! I bit back my sarcastic response and just nodded mutely as once again my situation crept up and slapped me on the arse. ‘Suck it up buttercup, you did this to yourself!’ I muttered under my breath to myself and went and fetched the big brown teapot only ever used when Nan had come to call. It brought back it’s own memories too, Nan had never had a problem putting me over her knee whenever she came to visit, even if I hadn’t done anything wrong, she would call it a maintenance spanking to keep me going till I needed a proper seeing to, as she so delicately put it. Rest her soul, she was gone now, but that teapot meant she would never be forgotten. How ironic it was going to be used today of all days!
I swirled hot water through it to warm it, tipped it out and then opened a box of fresh tea leaves, if he didn’t hold with a brew in a cup he wasn’t going to want tea bags in a pot and I certainly didn’t want to rile him up any more than he was already.
Finally I had prepared the tea, my bottom was throbbing so hard I could barely sit, but sit I did on the hard high backed kitchen chair. Why didn’t I have bloody cushions on these damn things! I winced as I sat down and thumped the teapot down in the centre of the table along side the cups and saucers he had insisted upon. Tea should be drunk out of china whenever possible! Really? Well fuck off home and drink it out of your own bloody china then! Not a word passed my lips though, I kept my rising temper firmly at bay. I was in enough trouble already. I risked a glance at him to see if he was winding me up at all, you know, a twinkle of a smile in his eyes, a small lift to his very straight lips? You know the thing, that one where they wind you up unmercifully and then take pity on you when they’ve watched you squirm for a while? He wasn’t winding me up, infact, he was at the opposite end of the scale of humour entirely. His mouth was set in a dour thin line, his eyes were cloudy with dismay and a subtle look that screamed discipline was coming, his whole body was taught with his ‘upset’ and I knew my backside was going to suffer a terrible fate at his hands in the very near future. I didn’t have a choice!
The other thing you should know about Mr Wilson is this, he is the village gossip! He will gossip all day every day with anyone who will stand still long enough to listen, he cleans windows in three local villages and we all know each other either as passing acquaintances or well enough to be on first name terms! No way could I have him spreading my humiliation far and wide! I would have to move bloody house. If a spanking from him could prevent that, then I would take one for the team. That’s all there was to it!
Mr Wilson swirled the tea in the pot and looked around the table for the strainer, he tutted once and shook his head and I jumped up immediately, realising what he was missing. I rummaged through the junk drawer for the strainer and out it came battered and bent but still a strainer. I placed it down in front of him and returned to the most torturous chair in the known universe.
Finally, tea made to his liking, in a china cup as per his instruction, through a bloody strainer as was his want, with two sugar lumps plopped in and stirred for the longest, slowest amount of time, ever! He was finally ready to receive my story.
Now then Ms, perhaps you could explain why you have a red bottom and thighs on show in the middle of the morning when you know your window cleaner is going to be cleaning your bedroom window? And… he raised a hand to delay my outpouring, ‘why you would have to be doing the spanking for yourself?’
I waited a beat in case he hadn’t finished and then I launched into what could only be described as a bad case of verbal diarrhoea as I explained my fruitless searches, my need for discipline and my decision to self-spank because of the lack of a suitable candidate. I explained about the CP I had received throughout my formative years and how it had shaped my thinking as an adult. I explained that my ex-husband would never have tried to discipline me because he had never cared enough about me to want to help me get things right.
I was laying it on thick now, I was hoping he was going to see that I was genuinely trying to help myself and had not been having some debauched exhibitionist moment in my bedroom today. I was genuinely fed up with my own lack of discipline and I needed taking in hand, even if it was my own hand. My bottom screamed at me as I moved around to try and find a softer spot on the chair which made me grimace again.
He saw the movement, and the grimace and he flicked a hand in the direction of my hot bottom as he spoke.
‘So you had a firm spanking today already then?’
I nodded quickly.
He nodded his head and pursed his lips as he thought about everything I had told him. My god this man was so SLOW!
Finally, he spoke. ‘It seems to me you’ve taken the easy way out of proper disciplining with this ‘self-spanking thing’ , there is no way that you can spank yourself hard enough to bring tears of contrition to your eyes and sobs of compliance to your lips with a few light spanks with a hairbrush and a spatula. I saw what you were using, they were lying on the bed. No one ever got a good spanking by flicking their wrist to tap their arse!
I was incensed, I jumped up, full of righteous indignation, I pointed a trembling finger at him as I spoke, ‘Now you look here Mr Wilson, I tanned my own backside good and proper today, I howled and cried for a good ten minutes after I had finished and I finished with 12 strokes of the most evil cane in the world! My bottom is so very sore right now I can’t sit on it and I am properly contrite and compliant as can be. I accept that what happened this morning should never have been allowed to happen but it was a mistake and I will make sure it will never happen again. I have been properly chastised I can assure you!’
I took a deep steadying breath and sat down again with a thump, which I instantly regretted because my bottom throbbed horribly at the indignity I had just served upon it.
Mr Wilson raised his eyebrow at me and let out a mirthless chuckle. Ms Strong, you need to pay attention to what I’m about to say to you. You are not getting away with your appalling behaviour from this morning, you nearly made me fall from me ladder! Waving that red backside about, your dress up in your waist and your knickers down round your ankles. You need to understand I will not tolerate such wanton behaviour from one of my clients. I am not a man who can be easily seduced Ms Strong. I am very happily married to my wife of 30 years. This morning was a divorcee’s attempt at getting a tupping if ever I saw one!
I had no idea what he was on about now, I felt like I had taken a trip down the farm and gone back in time to the 1800’s what the hell was a tupping when it was at home?
I’m sorry, I don’t understand, what’s a tupping? I asked cautiously. I wasn’t actually sure I wanted to know. But he told me. Oh dear, I still can’t shake the images! It gave me nightmares for a week!
He tutted, shook his head and then patiently explained. ‘You must know what a tupping is, you live in the country, woman! A tupping, a right good seeing to, a poking, a rump slapping hump, a ride on the cowboy, call it what you want, I am not in the market to provide it for you. I love my wife and am a faithful, honest and strictly religious man and you have offended me greatly today Ms Strong. Now what do you suggest we do to repair the damage?
I never got past a rump slapping hump, the ride on the cowboy was still hovering in the air waiting for me to look at it but I stalwartly refused to see that image! OMG he thought I wanted him to climb through the bloody window and slip me a quickie! All thoughts of not swearing had long since left the building along with my dignity, and my ability to vocalise a single word. I was speechless!
Well? He thumped the table and glared at me waiting.
Well what? I stammered, I was still rump slapping in my head and it was about to explode!
Well what are we going to do about the predicament you have created between us? Do I spank you today or will you wait two weeks and be spanked even harder then? Or should I spank you today and in two weeks also?
Spank me? TODAY? NO! My bottom is red raw Mr Wilson. My bottom was clenching and throbbing and I thought I might have a panic attack.
I don’t see how the silly slapping you did today could cause that, you do have a tendency to exaggerate these things. I’ll thank you to bend over and show me this red arse you keep on about and I’ll make my own mind up as to when this spanking will take place.
Great, once he saw my sore bruised bottom he was going to leave it and spank me in two weeks! I could just skip my own punishment regime next week so that I had time for my bottom to recover. As I said earlier, all thoughts for my dignity were long gone and I dutifully stood up and turned my bottom to face him, I hiked up my dress to show him the damage I had wrought on myself.
He exploded in temper! WHERE ARE YOUR KNICKERS WOMAN? He yelled at me! Spittle flew out of his mouth and landed on my bottom and I turned completely startled at the change in his demeanor. He was roaring with anger!
I … I … Didn’t have time to put them on before I answered the door to you…I didn’t think…
I never got to say another word. I suddenly found myself upended and over his knee being held round the waist in a vice grip, my free arm caught and held in the centre of my back pinned down by his big arm. He lifted his hand and brought it down THWACK right in the middle of my bottom! OMG! The pain! It exploded and I screamed and tried to kick out and wriggle out of his grip, but he quickly got into a steady spanking rhythm that tore through my numbed bottom and set it on fire, he spanked my thighs, he spanked my inner thighs with short sharp slaps when I kicked out, I learned quickly to keep my legs together, he spanked and spanked and spanked and spanked for what seemed like hours but was only actually about 30 minutes. I was wailing, crying, sobbing, hiccuping and I think I might have actually wet myself but I’m not sure. If I did it went all over his trousers so it serves him right!
Quite suddenly I was deposited on my feet and he bent me over the table, I heard the whoosh of his belt as it slid from his loop holes. I know I wet myself then, I cleaned the puddle up afterwards!
Throughout the last half hour he hadn’t said a single word, just walloped my backside black and blue, but when he took that belt out, he took a moment to savour his handy work before he lifted the leather strap and brought it clean across both cheeks, I was blessedly numb but I still felt it bite into my traumatised skin. He delivered six strokes with the belt before he was satisfied that I had been punished enough.
Stand up straight woman. He demanded.
I stood up shakily, crying and sniffling, he grabbed me by the arm and slapped my arse hard a further six times catching my thighs as well.
Now you’ve had a tanning young lady. Now you can say you’ve had some punishment, proper punishment and I will be back in two weeks to do the whole thing again but for twice as long as I have an appointment today and I can’t be late. You will make sure you present yourself to me at 1pm Friday in two weeks when I knock and you will wear what your wearing today and you will be wearing knickers next time. Do I make myself clear?
I was too far gone to disagree, I nodded my head in mute agreement as he slid his belt back through the loop holes. He strode to the kitchen door and then turned to look at me, ‘you are a very silly woman Ms Strong, you should never invite a man into your house, whatever the reason. You need to be grateful it was me and not someone who would abuse you! I shall be back in two weeks to finish off your punishment and then you shall have to find yourself a new window cleaner as I will not be coming around again, I’m very disappointed in you. I thought you were a nice lady. I was mistaken.’
With that he left, and I to my utter chagrin slid down to the floor and sat sobbing in a puddle of pee. It was a while before I stood up and realised what I was sat in. My humiliation was complete.
I was never going to have another spanking as long as I lived, I had learned my lesson well and he was going to be bitterly disappointed because I just wouldn’t be here when he called around in two weeks time. I would put the house up for sale and move to a different country. He could tell who the hell he wanted then because they would never see me again!
None of my little heartfelt tirade came to anything and within three days my bruised bottom was beginning to be the gift that kept on giving as the throbbing was like sitting on a permanently switched on vibrator. I had so many mind melting orgasms for the rest of that week that I vowed I would be ready and waiting in just over a week’s time for part two of my punishment!
One week after my very successful, on so many levels, first self spanking, I arrived at Transgression Confession Day as it is now called, for week two of my new self discipline, self spanking regime.
Now over the course of the intervening week I had done a great number of things, none of which were anywhere close to my list of tasks, although some did actually get miraculously completed along the way. As I’m inherently honest with myself, (no point in lying to me about me now is there?) I understood from the start that I was in for a very painful afternoon of spanking and corner time.
Obviously, I had made the school girl error of carrying over my original failures and doubling the punishment if I failed again. In my eagerness to completely immerse myself in my new regime I had blindly thought I had learned my lesson.
Let me tell you, when that first spanking wears off, so does the intensity of the contrition. I love my cigarettes and I have never governed my mouth, I am outspoken and blunt, it may be a less than endearing trait but if you know me, you know I will tell it how it is, and usually with added ‘colour’ to get the point across.
I was always doomed to failure on both of these tasks. Not only did I not complete either task, I appeared to have gotten worse. By mid week I was up to 35 cigarettes a day, and I was swearing like a trouper! In my defence, it was an extremely trying week.
Now, they were not the only tasks on the list, I failed to complete three other tasks too.
Clear my desk and tidy my home office. File my paperwork, PROPERLY!
Stop ignoring phone calls and speak to people when they phone.
No sweets for a week!
So, the clearing of the desk happened, I even managed to tidy my home office, but filing and me do not get along at all and so I shoved all the paperwork in the top drawer and filed it under, ‘I’ll do it later’. Later never came. My bottom began to tingle as I read the punishment I had allocated for failure of any part of this task. If I failed even one section I would receive the full punishment! Bloody hell, I was hard on myself the day I wrote that!
60 swats with the dreaded wooden hairbrush on my bare bottom followed by 5 minutes corner time. My bottom was now clenching with remembered pain.
The no ignoring of the phone calls was an utter failure. I hate phones, they are so invasive. I had surpassed my usual disregard for incoming calls this week and instead of just ignoring them, I actively switched the phone over to ‘Do Not Disturb’, and then promptly forgot to switch it back on at all. It was a lovely, quiet week phone wise. No interruptions!
I tracked the punishment for failing to comply with the task. Oh my goodness, I must have been high on adrenaline when I made this list!
150 swats with the hard black spatula on bare bottom and thighs followed by 5 minutes corner time.
I realised I had started to rub my bottom as I bit down on my lower lip. That was going to hurt like the dickens! I don’t know what the dickens is, but at this point it seemed to fit the situation!
No eating sweets for a week! Really? Why on earth had I done that to myself? I go to the cinema at least once a week, sweeties are on the menu for sure! You cannot sit and watch a film or a stage play without something to chomp on! It’s comfort food for goodness sake! I looked in the mirror at my ample size 16 curves and knew why I had set that task. I wasn’t ashamed of my size, I quite like the full curvy look, it suits me, but I did not want to get any bigger. It was going to cost me a fortune in new clothes!
I tracked the punishment allocated for this task and my eyes began to water. After completing my first spanking task last week, I had begun trawling the internet looking for other methods of spanking punishments that I could incorporate into my own regime without spending a fortune on expensive BDSM spanking implements. I wanted things I could utilise from my own household/garden appliances. Obviously, my brain was still awash with happy endorphins when I wrote this down.
12 strokes of the thin garden cane across my bare bottom.
This was now ramping up to be a mammoth spanking session and I began to wonder if I had bitten off more than I could chew!
Finally, and with some trepidation I added on the previous two failure punishments for the cigarettes and swearing transgressions, and then remembered I was doubling them. My heart pounded in my chest and my mouth went dry.
200 swats with the hairbrush on my bare bottom followed by 5 minutes corner time! Oh my god! I might never sit down again after this!
120 swats with the kitchen spatula followed by 5 minutes corner time. (I nearly wet myself with dread at this point)
20 minutes hard hand spanking followed by 5 minutes corner time.
FFS! I must be a masochist, why had I allowed all that corner time? The one thing I had learned the week before was that it was much easier to take the strokes and swats once the numbness set in. All that corner time pretty much negated complete numbness until the very end of the spanking session! A new learning curve happened here. NEVER write your following week’s punishments until two days after your last spanking! DO NOT write it out immediately after the spanking! Idiot! Happy endorphins are a bastard!
So now, my total punishment was looking like this.
A 15 minute warm up hand spanking, starting over skirt and knickers, progressing to over knickers and then bare bottom. That would warm my bottom up nicely.
20 minutes hard hand spanking on my bare bottom followed by 5 minutes corner time.
260 swats with the hairbrush on my bare bottom followed by 10 minutes corner time.
270 swats with the hard black spatula on my bare bottom followed by 10 minutes corner time.
12 strokes of the thin garden cane.
(Collapse in heap on the bed after these)
I actually wanted to throw the towel in there and then. I was terrified of my own punishments! I really struggled with the idea of changing the amount of strokes and swats I had given myself. I really wanted to down size them to a more manageable amount. I argued with myself for a good five minutes before I realised the only person who would be being cheated by these actions would be me. I don’t lie to myself, it would be fool hardy indeed to start cheating myself. I had set the punishments and now I must suck it up and carry them out. Perhaps this time I really might learn my lessons!
I had dressed in what I now refer to as my spanking outfit. The skirt was uncomfortable last time bunched up around my waist the whole time so I have replaced it with a thigh length belted black dress, this means that the dress can be pulled up and tucked into the back of the belt to anchor it in place. I had also added stockings and suspender belt because I wanted to frame my bottom and thighs for the spanking. I never wear these normally so it seemed fitting that I should go to some effort to dress up for the occasion, I added a pair of black stilettos to complete the outfit. I still wore my full white cotton panties, they make me feel like I am about to be punished. It must be a throwback to my childhood years where I found myself over one or the other of my parent’s or a number of uncles and aunties knees on a regular basis, white cotton panties stripped down to my knees and my pert little bottom turning pink and then rosy after a sharp hand spanking! Apparently I was an unruly child who needed a lot of discipline. It appears nothing much has changed in the intervening years!
I took a deep breath and positioned myself over the end of the bed, mirror once again strategically placed to capture every stroke and reflect it in the mirror above my bed. I could watch as I spanked. Despite my obvious trepidation, a lick of excitement unfurled in my belly and arrowed straight down to between my thighs. I was getting moist already! This fringe benefit was swiftly turning into my happy place! Perhaps this wouldn’t be so bad after all!
I began my warm up spanking, much as I had the previous week, I swatted lightly all over my bottom and this time included my thighs. I then lifted my dress and tucked it in to the belt and swatted for a further 5 minutes over my panties. My Thighs were taking on a lovely rosy hew now and were beginning to feel warm to the touch. I pulled my panties down and let them drop around my ankles. I bent over and ran my fingernails over my nicely sensitised bottom and I felt my clit begin to throb mildly in response. I really enjoyed the sensations the first 15 minutes brought about and I was almost smiling, I was so relaxed and in the zone.
I re-positioned myself over the end of the bed and raised my suspender framed bare bottom as high as I could and I brought down my first swift hand spank to my right cheek. It burned but then the bloom came immediately afterwards and I smiled at the sensation and continued to spank, my hands spanked harder and harder as the time ticked away the minutes of the 20 minutes I had to do. My thighs caught a good many spanks and were now red rather than rosy, my bottom was a deep red and the heat was intense. I was very wet between my thighs and I desperately wanted to rub my throbbing clit but would not allow myself the smallest amount of pleasure. I was being very strict this time.
I stood up and inspected my handy work in the mirror. My bottom was glowing and the heat was intensifying. I shuffled over to the corner, trying to walk with my panties around my ankles while wearing stilettos was something of a task all by itself and once again I began to feel very silly. I let the feelings wash over me because this was what I was supposed to feel like. Silly and slightly ashamed of my own behaviour. I didn’t examine which behaviour I was slightly ashamed of I just used the emotion to serve my purpose.
As I stood there contemplating the corner of the wall with my nose while my red bottom and thighs were naked and framed and fully on show I heard the unmistakeable sound of ladders being opened up.
BLOODY HELL! The window cleaner! I had completely forgotten about him. As I turned to stare in horror at the window, his head popped up and he began cleaning the windows, blatantly oblivious to me standing up the corner by the door! I was hidden from him because I was just around the corner and out of view. I had to peep around the edge of the wall to see the window. My Adrenalin was racing now, I made a snap decision to continue with my corner time. I reasoned that if I had my nose pressed into the corner and my bottom on show, I wouldn’t see him if he happened to see me anyway! Damn that made me very wet very quickly thinking about being seen in this position and I moaned a little at the sensations running amok between my thighs.
I waited until he disappeared from view and I heard his ladders move from my window and on to the next room, I pulled my panties up and untucked my dress. I ran down the stairs and grabbed my purse and pulled out the cash to pay him when he knocked on the door. The down side to all of this was that my bottom was now happily throbbing away after the onslaught of a 20 minute hard hand spanking and my clit was no longer distracting me from the heavy sting that had settled in. Finally he knocked on the door, I waited a beat and then opened it, he smiled at me and began his usual chatter about the weather and what a lovely sight my garden was, all the beautiful red and pink roses in full bloom everywhere, I thanked him for the compliment and thrust his money at him telling him I was in a hurry as I was getting ready to go to an interview. He looked suitably dismayed at the cutting short of our conversation but was soon on his way. I closed the front door and turned the key in the lock for good measure!
What I didn’t find out until much later was that the window cleaner had had a birds eye view of my red bottom and thighs the whole time he had been cleaning the windows because the mirror above my bed was perfectly positioned facing the door to reflect my image into the mirror at the end of the bed! Oh my goodness… but that part of my journey will be told later. For now, I was oblivious to my full exposure to my window cleaner.
Now that the imminent danger of being caught with my panties down and a red bottom on show had gone I resolved to continue with my punishment.
260 swats with the hairbrush on my bare bottom. I gulped. My mouth had gone dry and my bottom was throbbing. I pulled up my dress and tucked it into the belt and I pulled down my panties and let them drop to my ankles once more. I positioned myself over the end of the bed and raised the dreadful little wooden hairbrush in my right hand and brought it down swiftly with a sharp thwack! OMFG! The sharpness of the wood connecting with my already throbbing bottom was so intense I yelped in shock at the pain. Undaunted, I continued with my assault on my rump with the hairbrush, counting out loud each stinging swat on my now rapidly turning deep crimson bottom and thighs. I was yelping and shrieking with each blow but I stuck with it. This was indeed a severe punishment, it could cover my error in judgement about the window cleaner nearly getting an eyeful too! Finally I applied the last swats with the evil little brush and allowed myself a moment to gather myself together. I had a tear stained face which was now as red as my bottom and I was trembling with the pain shooting through my bottom and my poor thighs. I stood up and shuffled over to the door once again and pressed my nose into the corner of the wall. I don’t recall feeling silly this time, my mind was blessedly numb and I just stood there waiting for the trembling to stop. Finally my ten minutes were up and now my bottom was beginning to bloom, the heat coming of it was immense and I had two hard bruised patches where the brush had done its work best. My thighs throbbed and my clit was silent in response. Apparently, it only liked it warm not roasting! No pleasant distraction for me this time!
With a very deep and shaky breath I shuffled back to the end of the bed and picked up the spatula. Tears welled in my eyes at the thought of more spanking but I bent my head and determined to see the whole thing through. I really was distraught by this time as I positioned myself once again with bottom high and legs locked at the knees. I raised the spatula and rained down a volley of sharp stinging blows, shrieking as they landed on my thighs and my very painful sit spot, I counted loudly each blow as it landed, I scattered the strokes everywhere to try and reduce the insistent throbbing ache that had set up in my bottom and thighs. I was in agony! Tears ran freely down my cheeks as I continued to spank the living daylights out of myself. My god, if this was how much it could hurt when one spanked oneself, how much worse would it be for someone else to be doing it to me? In that moment I was grateful for never having found a likely candidate to spank me! At least this way I could control the power.
One more time I shuffled wearily over to the door and did my ten minute corner time.
I was sobbing quietly now, sniffling and hiccuping as I counted down the minutes until I had to take 12 strokes of the thin garden cane. Hopefully, it was so thin it might not break through the pain I was already in and I wouldn’t feel it.
After the ten minutes were up my bottom was a mass of heavily throbbing pain, red hot heat poured out of my skin and my poor, poor thighs were stinging terribly.
I positioned myself over the bed for the last time that day and raised the thin cane high. I took a deep breath and brought that cane down whipping through the air, I heard the woosh as it travelled at speed towards my trembling bottom. It connected and I screamed out loud! I shot upright and jumped up and down, sobbing and wailing as the thin line where the cane had landed bloomed right across my thighs and an angry looking welt appeared like magic on their surface. Oh bloody hell, bloody hell, I still had 11 to go. Come on Gem, you can do this, just do it fast and get it over with. I muttered to myself as I eyed the torture instrument I had unwittingly chosen from a selection of garden cane. I glared at it balefully as I once again picked it up, ‘you are so heading for the wood pile when today is over! I promised this now evil, pale, thin stick of torture!
I bent over, I raised my arm and brought the cane down across both buttocks, then across both thighs, then back to the buttocks again, then the thighs and I alternated and counted each terrifyingly painful stroke until I shouted 12 at the top of my voice.
I threw the cane across the room, I launched myself sobbing and wailing loudly across my bed and I spread my legs wide to allow air to my overheated fanny and clit. It was so wet and hot it had gone past any sexy feeling and was now just a mass of uncomfortable raw heat. I concentrated on the twin agony in my bottom and my thighs and I lamented my own stupidity for doing this to myself. I rolled over to allow the coolness of the cold cotton bedspread to sit against my feverishly over heated skin and I cried my eyes out for a full ten minutes the pain was so bad.
Eventually, the searing pain from the caning began to wane and the overheated feeling in my fanny began to cool. My clit began to throb more gently and I soothed it with my fingers, rubbing them along the slick wetness and dipping them inside just a little to sooth me. My clit began to throb and I raised myself up slightly, I pushed my fingers inside me a little deeper and hooked them forward against my g-spot. I rubbed back and forth and thumbed my clit until I was panting and groaning for a whole different reason. I was right on the edge of a mind blistering orgasm, I pumped harder and faster, utterly lost in the amazing sensations sitting in a thick band around my bottom, thighs and fanny, and I worked my clit, flicking it, stroking it until…. the door bell rang three times!
NO! NO! NO! I jumped off the bed and ran to the window, the bloody window cleaner had come back! What the hell did he want? I paid him didn’t I? Then I remembered, I still owed him for the previous month! To make matters worse, I had put him on my task list because I kept forgetting I hadn’t paid him!
I ran downstairs, now completely knickerless and tugging my dress out of the back of the belt. My house is made up of little windows everywhere, there is a window above the front door and one long slim one along the side to allow light in and for me to see who’s on the other side. He stood there, hands in pockets, tapping his foot as he peered through the long window at my descent down the stairs.
I opened the door wide and smiled shakily at him. I had no idea at all what I might look like but I was betting it was absolutely frightful!
He looked me up and down and shook his head. ‘Now Ms, we’ve known each other for a long time haven’t we? Long enough for me to speak honestly and freely with you?’ I nodded my agreement and waited for him to get to his point. He is an old fashioned type of man in his late 50’s I think, thick set and stockily built with huge hands and big powerful arms. A plain face but not ugly. Just an average looking man. Then I looked in his eyes and my stomach flipped. He knew.
‘Well Ms, I come back because I needed to let you know, if you are aiming to show your spanked bottom to me every time I clean the windows, I am going to have to put you over my knee and give you a proper spanking for being so naughty. You damn near made me fall off my ladder this morning, and then you told me a whopping lie and said you were going out. I’ve watched from up the hill and waited to see if you did go out, and we both know you haven’t. So, I’ve come to tell you, when I come next, in two weeks time, you are going to have a sound spanking from me because your behaviour today deserves nothing less. Do you agree?’ He waited patiently for his words to sink into my numb brain. They hit very slowly, one after the other, dropping in like loose change and jangling all the way down to my throbbing bottom.
My eyes must have been like saucers in my face and I know my mouth had formed a perfect ‘O’ as I stared mutely at him. He tapped his foot and then prompted me, ‘now come on Ms, you know as well as I do, if’n you had wanted your antics this morning to stay private you woulda drawn the damn curtains. His voice had become quite loud now and I began to panic that the neighbours would overhear him.
I stepped back from the door and very shakily I said, ‘please come inside a moment Mr Wilson while we discuss this more quietly.’ He stepped into the hall and closed the door firmly behind him. My fanny was dripping, my bottom was throbbing and my head was spinning! Had I disappeared down the bloody rabbit hole? This could not be happening! It was playing out like a badly set up pre-spanking scene in a video! I shook my head to clear my thoughts! How very dare he threaten to spank me!
I lifted my chin and folded my arms across my ample heaving chest, this served to do two things simutaneously. One, it pushed my breasts together and put a huge cleavage on show and two it drew Mr Wilson’s full gaze to the delightful vision they made.
I maintained my brave stance, ‘now listen Mr Wilson, I had no intention of showing you my spanked red bottom, I had completely forgotten you were due to come today. I was in the middle of… ‘ I faltered, ‘well… I was in the middle of something…’
‘Oh yes indeed you were,’ he interrupted me, ‘I had a full view of your very red bottom and thighs framed by those suspenders. What else would you be doing if you weren’t putting them on show for me? I was the only one who was here besides you!’
‘It’s a very naughty game you played with me this morning and it should not go unpunished. Either I spank you for it or I want to know who spanked you this morning so I can be telling them what you did so that they give you another sound spanking! Those are your choices young lady! I suggest you choose quickly before I change my mind and put you over my knee this instant. I am very upset with you!’ He crossed his own arms over his chest and I realised in that moment I was looking at a very powerful man indeed. I knew I was going to have to come clean with him and tell him the whole sorry story of my so far short lived journey into the world of self spanking and self discipline.
I lowered my arms and allowed them to drop to my sides, my face was suffused with embarrassed colour and I looked down at the ground as I spoke.
‘I’m very sorry Mr Wilson, I can see how upset I’ve made you. Can I make you a cup of tea and I will explain in full what was happening here today? You see, there is no one else, I was spanking myself.’ I was crawling inside with complete humiliation and shame. He really was a very nice man and I had created this situation because I hadn’t drawn the bloody curtains or remembered he was due here today, add to that the fact that I still owed him last month’s money and I didn’t have it and I accepted I was up shit creak without a paddle!
Mr Wilson drew in a sharp breath as what I said sank in. He looked at my crestfallen expression and shook his head in dismay. ‘Well, I don’t know what to think, a lovely woman like you having to spank herself! What on earth is the world coming to? I think you best put the kettle on and explain this situation to me fully so that I can understand it.’
I nodded mutely and led the way through to the kitchen and invited him to sit.
to be continued…
All images courtesy of the internet except the ruler and spatula, they belong to me.
I can’t find anyone to spank me, it’s a very difficult thing to ask for when you don’t have a partner, so I devised a way to get a spanking without having to get a man (or a woman, I’m not sexist) to do it! I would spank myself!
I had heard about self-spanking, I had seen videos online of people spanking themselves and I wondered what they got from it. Well, apart from the obvious that is, a sore bottom is obviously high on the list of wants and needs, but were they truly convinced they had received a proper spanking? Did it make them feel contrite? Did they mend their ways? Learn from their mistakes? There was no one to ask and that frustrated the living daylights out of me. I trawled the internet in search of self spanking diaries, photos, videos and to be fair while there are some, it is mainly the ‘otk’ variety of spanking that is widely available to view and read about. Very nice to view, and I learned a lot about technique from watching those videos, but not what I was searching for. After much fruitless searching, I decided to take matters into my own hands. I set myself some tasks, worked out a punishment regime if I didn’t complete said tasks and then set a date and time that I should answer for my transgressions.
The confession of transgressions day arrived. Had I completed my tasks?
The answer was a very woeful no. In honesty, I did try very hard to see if I could actually complete all of the things I had set out to do. The ones I failed on were, unfortunately, the ones that brought about the biggest punishments. I swear too much, I set a task that I would not swear for a whole day. I failed, miserably. 100 swats with a wooden hairbrush on my bare bottom. Oh dear, what a way to introduce myself to a sound spanking. I was actually dismayed that I had set such a high number for my first time out.
The second task I failed on was smoking too much. I set myself the task of wearing a nicotine patch for a day and not having a cigarette for one whole day.
Yeah, doomed to failure, I had lit a cigarette before I had opened my eyes! It went steadily downhill from that moment on. 30 cigarettes later and my bottom was tingling with the knowledge it was going to be introduced to a very firm 10-minute hand spanking followed by 60 swats with the hard plastic kitchen spatula. All to be delivered on my bare bottom.
I was surprised at my own level of intuitive instruction when I had set about doing this. I had instructed that at the start of each spanking session I should do a ‘warm-up’ spanking, light hand spanks all over my bottom, starting off over my skirt and panties, then moving on to pulling my skirt up around my hips and continuing to spank over my full white panties. I do like a pair of white panties, they sort of set the scene. I don’t know, maybe it’s just me?
After a good ten minutes of light to medium hand spanking, I increased the firmness of the swats. Still over my panties, but I could feel my bottom getting warmer and the feeling was absolutely delicious! I was shocked to find I was getting moist between my legs too. Beneficial side effect! Go me!
I was really getting into the swing of things now and decided it was time to progress to bare bottom, so down came the white panties to around my ankles and a quick peek in the mirror revealed a lovely rosy glow to my bottom. No pain but the warmth was there.
It was time for the first part of my spanking. I decided that the wooden hairbrush would be best left until I had delivered all of the hand spanks I had been given.
I bent over the end of the bed, panties around my ankles, skirt pulled high up over my hips, my rosy bottom glowing in the strategically placed mirror behind me. I raised my hand and swung it down hard on my left cheek. Smack! My bottom quivered at the sting from the first swat, but it still wasn’t too uncomfortable. I raised my other hand and brought it down on my right cheek, I’m right-handed, I felt this smack, it stung and I grimaced as the warmth turned to heat under my hand. I continued, the smacks came down harder and harder as I developed a rhythm of ten spanks to each cheek alternating so that it wasn’t an uneven spanking. I caught the tops of my thighs and that really stung. I didn’t stop though, I was finally getting the spanking I had been desperately looking for and I found I was enjoying it far too much. There wasn’t much in the way of contrition going on inside my head, I was thoroughly enjoying every minute!
I spanked harder and harder until my ten minutes were up. I stood up and viewed my ‘handy work’ in the mirror. My bottom and thighs were glowing bright red now and the heat was becoming intense.
I had read somewhere that a brief pause between spankings would prevent the bottom from becoming too numb too soon so that the maximum pain potential could be realised. I stood myself in the corner of my bedroom with my nose to the wall and my bottom bared, panties around my ankles and skirt hiked up around my waist. I folded my arms behind me and rested them on the back of my waist, just like I had seen on the videos. I did feel foolish at this point, but then I suddenly understood this was how I was supposed to feel so I stood there for 5 minutes desperately trying not to rub my bottom to feel the heat. I used the time to scold myself for my excitement and made myself get into a very serious mindset, this was a punishment, after all, it wouldn’t do to enjoy it too much.
It was time for the next part of the spanking. The hard plastic spatula! It is a long thin affair, black, and a solid moulded piece. Long slim inch wide handle tapering out to a 3-inch flat spoon.
I took up my position over the end of the bed and raised the spatula as high as I could and brought it down onto my right cheek swiftly. Oh my god! The pain! My bottom felt like it was on fire! I gritted my teeth and raised the spatula again, following the same pattern as previously, I administered 10 hard swats to my right cheek and then swapped hands and delivered 10 hard swats to my left cheek. I was jumping about and biting down hard on the duvet! Bloody hell that hurt! I braced myself and swapped hands again, once more bringing 10 hard swats to my right cheek, I managed to strike all over the cheek so that I didn’t continually hit the same spot. I realised I was going to live to regret that decision when it came to sitting down later. I swapped hands and delivered 10 more to the left cheek, the left side seemed to be hitting harder than the right now, I kept missing the soft round globe of my bottom and continually caught the tops of my thighs on a number of occasions but I persevered until I had completed the 60 swats, 30 to each cheek. I threw the spatula up the bed when I had finished and I collapsed in a heap over the end of the bed. Oh my goodness, my poor bottom was on fire! Why on earth was I doing this to myself? Had I completely lost my marbles?
Regardless of those two very sensible burning questions, I decided in for a penny, in for a pound, I might as well complete the punishments I had given myself. Besides, my poor bottom was feeling so numb now I probably wouldn’t feel the wooden hairbrush that much. WRONG!! So very wrong! So wrong in fact that bloody hairbrush should have had a government health warning attached to it!
I had decided I was not going to give my bottom time to recover any real feeling this time so no corner time, I dived straight into the final part of my punishment and re-positioning myself over the end of the bed, knees locked tight and bottom raised high and ready for the first swat I raised that innocuous little wooden hairbrush and I brought it down with some speed on my left cheek. I shrieked! I actually jumped up and howled! The pain shot through my buttock and darted like an arrow between my legs causing me to feel a range of emotions and feelings that still confuse me every time they happen. I was so terribly turned on I was actually beginning to feel ashamed of myself for feeling horny because I was hurting myself. Once I had calmed down a little I reasoned my reactions away with the pleasure/pain principle. Of course, I was turned on, I was having the very first proper spanking of my adult life. I had waited years for this, and I was not going to psych myself out of completing it! I raised that dreadful little brush and delivered the 100 swats as hard and as fast and as evenly as I could all over my glowing deep red bottom and thighs. Oh my goodness how they stung! Each hard swat sent a fresh wave of sharp, painful heat through my thighs and cheeks and straight between my legs. I was so wet now I thought I might actually have the first hands free orgasm of my entire life! It wasn’t to be, but it was a close run thing!
I threw the dreadful little brush up the bed with the spatula and threw myself on the bed face down, legs spread wide, I concentrated on the twin feelings of heat in my cheeks and the hot wet throbbing between my legs. It was no good, punishment or not I was going to have to do something about that throbbing. I reasoned I had earned a little pleasure after all of that pain! I rolled over on the cool duvet cover and my hot red cheeks thanked me profusely for the wonderful coolness of the cotton beneath them. My fingers ran down between my legs and I stroked my wet, throbbing clit. I didn’t need to stroke for long, I was so close to an orgasm when the spanking came to an end that it took a matter of fewer than 3 minutes to get me there! Oh my goodness what an orgasm! I saw stars!
Much later, I picked up my list of tasks and set about making a new list. The swearing and the cigarettes were placed at the top and I doubled the punishment for both if I failed to achieve them again. I gave myself a week to complete those two tasks at least once each and a number of other tasks that had been nagging at me.
I wondered how I would get on, but determined that I should try very hard to succeed this time. I realised then that self spanking did give me a sense of contrition, it did give me the feeling of being thoroughly spanked and it did make me want to try harder to learn from my mistakes. Especially as I was sat on my now un-numbed bottom and it was throbbing like crazy!
Was I destined to fail or would I come out of next week’s confessions of my transgressions with a cream bottom instead of a very deep red and bruised bottom?
All images courtesy of the internet. Except the ruler and spatula, they belong to me.
If you read further, you are acknowledging that the content in this blog is adult in nature and is expressly discussing kinks and sexual exploration. Enter at your own risk, if you are shocked by the act of spanking don’t read any further. Run away, scram, remain in the dark and just wonder about the pleasures you could be missing out on… or just leave. I won’t hold it against you. Each to their own.
If you do want to jump in and read, be nice peeps, leave a like or a comment or both! I won’t mind and at least I will know you have taken a peek at my bottom adventures!
Most if not all of the photographs/images are courtesy of the internet and remain the property of their original owners, unless otherwise stated. if I have used an image that is yours and you recognise it and wish for it to be removed, please contact me and I will be happy to remove it for you. No offence is intended.
When you are out of the usual options, you must do it for yourself!
I needed a good hard spanking so I gave myself one… then another… then another
Then everybody else joined in…
Be yourself; Everyone else is already taken.
— Oscar Wilde.
This blog is about my journey of self discovery, post divorce, and my hedonistic tumble into self-spanking and self-discipline and spanking and being disciplined! I hope you enjoy the journey with me. These stories are excerpts from my diaries and memories. All of them are name changed to protect everyone involved.
And then there are ‘The Boy’ posts. These tell the story of my disabled son’s Journey of Self Discovery too. My journey has been a lot easier than his. His Journey is a lot more interesting and fulfilling than mine and full of Euphoria and Heartache, amazing successes and abject failures but through it all he shines in a way that leaves me in awe. I was asked to tell his story by another blogger on WP and I gave in. I hope you enjoy travelling with him through his life from birth to 30 years of age. (Present day, it’s still on going!)
For myself, this is a journey about discovery of self beginning 10 years ago after a bitter divorce, exploring a long standing kink that had lain dormant for far too long and the experiences it brought about purely by accident rather than design. It is my personal journey, I have changed the names of others to protect their identity but the events are mainly as they happened. Please read with an open mind and heart, we are all original works of art just waiting for someone to appreciate the picture we portray. My picture is finally beginning to see the light of day. All events written here had my full co-operation and consent and were carried out in a safe, sane and consensual way. Detailed discussions between both parties took place well in advance of any spanking. Nothing was agreed until both parties were happy that what would happen was entirely within the boundaries we had set. My thoughts and feelings were written shortly after each event and in some cases I was highly charged and usually in a lot of throbbing pain but I had loved every single minute of it once the throbbing calmed down some. I decided it was way past time to put all of those experiences, thoughts and feelings in one place to share with you.
I hope you are enjoying our journey so far. I know we are…
All images courtesy of the internet and remain the property of the people who posted them on the net, I lay no claim to any of them except where otherwise stated.
[No cats were harmed in the making of this blog. They all love to be spanked.] Exploring the psychology 'behind' spanking through fiction and poetry. Because, nothing says 'I love you' better than a red, sore, bare bottom. Comments welcome and discussion encouraged. I believe spanking between consenting adults leads to closer and more intimate relationships. Spanking is not a kink, not a fetish, not a lifestyle, but rather, a healthy and honest means of communication. Let your mind free and respect will follow. Contact me firstname.lastname@example.org