This well used evil thing never gets used for cooking anymore - but it stays within easy reach in the kitchen. It's hard to buy something more painful for 97 cents - good old Wal-Mart.

I thought I'd post some of our implement collection tonight. This is really all of it that's worth anything. A lot of them haven't seen any use in quite a while, so I may be opening a can of worms by drawing attention to them. This paddle used to be the only thing Nick ever used. It hurts like hell, and it always makes me nervous when he gets too close to it. It hangs in our livingroom by the fireplace. Every once in a while, if I get a little smart when we have friends over, he'll casually reach over and start toying with it - which never fails to get my attention

I went to Wal-Mart tonight and they had these molded plastic cutting boards for under $2. I, of course, am an incurable spanko who can't pass the kitchen aisle without getting all giggly. So I bought two.

This is the paddle. One more eBay purchase I sorely regret.

Happy Mother's Day!!!!

I hope each and every one of you wonderful, overworked, underpaid, underappreciated women out there who've taken on the most important job in the world have a day fit for a queen! I love my Mom!

Lecturing

A hugely important part of any discipline spanking for me is the lecturing that goes along with it. It proves to me that Nick is not spanking because I expect it or because "the rules" say he should. He's emotionally invested in the situation, and he can tell me in detail why I'm there and what I need to do to avoid it next time. The times he lectures are the times the spanking really does what it's supposed to, and more often than not I'll end up shedding some very cathartic tears. Loving DD has posted a good article on the topic on his site.

Super powers and other non-preservatives...

Before Nick and I had our little adventure of the previous post, we were cuddling our little girl and enjoying the random and always surprising things she says.

This morning as Nick was getting ready for work, she woke up and said, "Daddy, I'm thirsty." We try not to give her anything to drink other than water if she's going to sleep (hello, cavities!), so he filled a sippy cup with water and brought it to her. She snuggled up against me and started drinking it, then went back to sleep before finishing it.

As we were snuggling together tonight, she picked up the half full cup from the headboard (yes, still sitting there - bad wife), and said, "Daddy, is this water bad?"

"No, sweetie, It's still good. Water doesn't really go bad."

She looked at it thoughtfully and said, "That's because it doesn't have super powers."

I don't think Nick and I were entirely successful in keeping a straight face. What a precious gift from God she is!

A Surprising Turn of Events...

When I got home tonight, Nick was still up. He usually waits up for me on Friday nights since he has a shorter shift at work on Saturdays. We were upstairs cuddling when he happened to glance into the bathroom and notice several mounds of lime green slime decorating our white vanity top.

"What the hell is on the sink?"

I'd noticed it a few minutes earlier, but hadn't had a chance to get it up yet. "Um, it's finger paint." (Life with a four year old).

"No, it's too thick for finger paint. It's probably play dough."

"No, it's finger paint."

This went on until he asked our daughter, who said, "It's play dough." and then went off to play. As it turns out, play dough, when wet becomes more of a slimy paste. A bit miffed at being wrong, I got up, dipped my finger in an especially gooey, finger paint-like blob, then wiped it on his arm. This of course was all in fun, and when he told me to wipe it off, I ran a tissue under the tap and started cleaning it off. He started complaining about how gross it was, and I teasingly said, "Whine, whine..."

"Woman, I'll beat your butt!"

"Um, yeah."

Next thing I knew, he had flipped me across his body and begun to spank me hard! It wasn't a long spanking, maybe 25 or 30 swats, but holy heck, it hurt! He rarely spanks with his hand anymore, and I tend to forget just how much power he can put behind it. And this was just over my panties. When we started DD, it was bare bottom every time, but now that's more the exception than the rule, so I guess I've gotten used to having that denim barrier there unless it's during sex.

He let me up and I pouted and rubbed a bit, then went to run my bath. The next couple of minutes are kind of fuzzy, but somehow, after stepping out of my panties, I ended up back in the same position, this time getting it on my bare butt. How is it possible that this is the same hand that feels so good when I'm panting with lust?

After he let me up this time, he placed my hand very deliberately on his cock, which was throbbing to get free from his underwear. I was pretty hot myself by this time, so I invited him to make sure I got in the bath okay. He followed me in, then bent me over and took me from behind. I must say, I've had less exciting ends to a day.

I think he's secretly trying to tenderize by butt before giving me the spanking from last week. Come to think of it, last weekend before he hurt his back (which is doing much better, btw), we were wrestling around and he gave me a rather hard hand spanking over my jeans at one point. When I said, "What was that for?" he said, "Just getting you ready."

"For what?"

"For your real spanking."

 

And a horse of a different color...

 

Riding off into the sunset...

The Orange Memo - By Alex

Here's another mouthwatering story from Alex. Drop him a line at bernaise38@yahoo.com, and as always, click Read More to get the whole story. Thank you, Alex!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Stacey Bates was a secretary with a secret.
The secret involved her desk, which was
originally placed next to a window on the
sixteenth floor of the Brooks Building.
One day, she had it moved to the other side
of the room. She told her co-workers that she
did this because the view made her dizzy.
But that wasn't the reason. She preferred her
desk there because all she had to do was lean
over and put an ear to the wall in order to
hear everything that was happening in the
office occupied by her boss, Spencer Hayden.
She listened in while company meetings were
taking place, during private conferences
and whenever he was on the phone. She wasn’t
trying to find out anything she didn’t
already know, she just liked the sound of
Mr. Hayden’s firm, authoritative voice.

The lovely Miss Bates had what might be called
a schoolgirl crush on the handsome Mr. Hayden.
She often daydreamed about how his lips might
taste, what he looked like in his pajamas and
where they would spend their honeymoon.

Mr. Hayden, however, showed very few signs of
interest in Miss Bates.

Of course, there was that one time.

A month earlier, Stacey had attended a Christmas
party at the home of the company's owner.
Spencer had been tapped to play Santa Claus
at the event. Midway through the evening, he
entered to much applause through the front door.
Dressed in a heavily padded red suit and
sporting a polyester beard, Spencer hauled
his sack of gifts into the den where a large
easy chair had been placed next to the tree
especially for him.

Stacey stood near the fireplace, sipping
rum-laced eggnogs as she watched her fellow
employees line up to tell Santa what they
wanted for Christmas. Forty minutes and
three drinks later, there was no one left
in line. Stacey realized that, if she was
going to do something, she’d have to do
it right then. So she tossed back one last
gulp of nog and headed directly for the
jolly old elf. Without ceremony, she plopped
herself onto Santa’s lap, wrapped her arms
around his shoulders and planted a sloppy
wet kiss on his cheek.

"Ho ho ho!" Spencer laughed, a bit overcome by
Stacey’s eagerness. "Merry Christmas! Now tell
Santa, have you been a good little girl?"

The young lady pouted a little and leaned over
to whisper into Spencer’s ear.

"No, Santa. I haven’t been a good girl at all.
In fact, I’ve been very bad." As she spoke,
Stacey toyed with a button on Santa’s jacket
while her other hand slipped behind his neck and
flicked at the string that held his beard on.
"You see, I’ve been having these naughty thoughts
about my boss. All day I think about him calling
me into his office and ordering me to bend over
across his desk. When I hesitate, he slaps
my bottom... really hard! So I bend over.
He lifts my dress up and pulls my panties down.
Then he slaps my ass again, this time even harder.
It’s stings likes crazy and it’s so humiliating,
but for some reason I don’t want him to stop.
He smacks my ass cheeks again and again,
harder and harder until I think I can’t take
any more. Then he steps back and starts to
undo his belt."

Spencer cleared his throat and tried to
pretend that Stacey’s whisperings weren’t
quite so intriguing.

"I see... so you want a DVD player. Well, that’s
sounds nice..."

"I know I’ve been a very, very bad, Santa."
Stacey quietly continued. "I’ll bet I only get
a lump of coal in my stocking this Christmas.
In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if you turned
me across your lap and gave me a good spanking
in front of all these people."

Spencer was stunned. Having no idea what to say,
he simply continued staring into Stacey’s eyes.
Before he could reply, someone in the next room
announced that it was time to play charades.
As the guests began filing out of the den,
Stacey hopped off Spencer’s lap and gave his
other cheek a kiss.

"Too bad." she said. "It would have been fun."

Spencer’s eyes were glued to Stacey’s bottom
swaying beneath her skirt as she walked away.

Stacey stopped and turned around.

"Are you coming, Santa?"

"Just about to." Spencer called out as he
attempted to adjust his fuzzy red trousers.
"I think first old Saint Nick needs to splash a
little cold water on his face. Go on without me."

Stacey went into the next room and watched the
others play party games. All the while, she
waited patiently for her boss near a doorway
that was decorated with a sprig of mistletoe.
But he never showed up. When the party ended,
Stacey could only assume that she'd embarrassed
Spencer and that he had simply bolted.

In the weeks that followed, it seemed to
Stacey that Mr. Hayden was going out of his
way to avoid her. He barely acknowledged her
presence as he entered and exited her office
and almost never called her into his. It had
become difficult for her to speak with him
as well. Stacey began to suspect that her
stunt at the Christmas party had created a
permanent state of awkwardness between them.

One day, the last day of January, Stacey found
herself once again with her ear to the wall
outside Spencer’s office. He'd been tapping
away on his keyboard for nearly half an hour.
This was unusual because Spencer normally
preferred to dictate letters and rarely
used his own computer. As she listened in,
she noticed several long pauses before he
began typing again. Eventually the typing
stopped all together.

Spencer suddenly bolted out of his office.

"I'm going out to lunch." he said.

"Oh. Okay." Stacey replied as she watched
him disappear around the corner. She was
mystified by his behavior. He hadn’t even
looked at her as he passed. Stranger still,
he seemed quite flustered. "Was he blushing?"
she thought.

Stacey glanced over at the door to Mr. Hayden’s
office, then stood and walked over to it.
She turned the knob, opened the door slightly
and poked her head inside. There was nothing
unusual to be seen in there- just an empty office.
As she began to close the door, Stacey noticed
what appeared to be a memo crumpled up in
the wastebasket. Spurred on by curiosity,
she walked in, bent down and plucked the piece
of paper from the trash. She unfolded and
pressed it flat against the top of the desk
as she read from it.

To Stacey Bates: 11:45 a.m.

I've been imagining the two of us in my large
leather office chair. You’re sitting in my lap
with an orange in your hands. I take it and
carefully pull the peel away. We rock back and
forth kissing and feeding sections of fruit to
each other. As I lick a few errant drops of
juice from between your breasts, I decide that
the hardening pink buds beneath your brassiere
could do with a good tongue lashing. You agree
and in a moment your blouse and bra are mere
memories. I dip you forward, your silken tresses
nearly brushing the floor as I flick your swollen
nipples with the slick tip of my attentive tongue,
roughly sucking and gently biting them between
licks and kisses. Then, without warning, I lift
you up and bend you over my left leg. I announce
that I’m well aware of your eavesdropping, that
I know you spend much of your workday with your
hot little ear pressed to the wall, listening in
on my private business. My hand is underneath
your skirt yanking your panties down before you
can catch your breath. A cool gust of air across
your bottom as your skirt flies up is followed by
a sharp hot slap. I spank you soundly until you
begin sobbing, until your legs involuntarily kick
with each swat, until your pale round cheeks
are pink and throbbing. Afterward, I hold you
in place, patting and massaging your tender,
stinging ass. Eventually, you stand up only
to turn and drape yourself across my desk.
Looking over your shoulder at me, you brush
a tear from your face and smile hungrily.
You rise up on the balls of your feet. I watch
mesmerized as your hips begin to sway this way
and that. Charmed by this invitation, I stand
and start to unbuckle my belt.

That's where the memo ended.

When Spencer returned from his lunch break, he was
surprised to see that Stacey was not at her desk.
He entered his office and found the note he'd
thrown away earlier, flattened out and placed
in the middle of his desktop. On the bottom
of it, beneath his words, was a note in what he
immediately recognized as Stacey's handwriting.

To Spencer Hayden: 1:05 p.m.

I'm not sure where this memo was going, but I
can't wait to find out! I'll be back in a
few minutes. I've gone down to the market
to buy an orange.

THE END

Matura - by Nobbie

Our own Nobbie graciously sent me his latest yummy creation. Don't you love the little freckle on her right cheek? It really gives individuality to the spankee. Thanks, Nobbie!

Improvement Made Simple

Today I was looking around the still messy house, stressing out because I knew I had to get things done and unable to find where to start. I have a tendency to overthink things when it comes to DD (and you know, everything else in my life), and I was literally approaching panic because I just couldn't seem to make myself focus.

I still haven't been spanked, and while I don't want to make it even worse when it happens, I also don't want Nick to think I'm waiting on him to punish me before I do the right thing. And so, I'm staring at one mess and thinking, "I'll just start there," and then I think, "But he won't even notice that if I don't do this other thing first. And before I do that, I need to straighten up this." And round and round.

Then all of a sudden, in a flash of brilliance (really), I picked up the phone and called him at work.

"Honey, I'm having a problem getting started on the house, and I wondered if you could give me one thing you'd like for me to have done before you get up tomorrow."

"Clean the den."

And it was that simple! I have focus! I have drive! So often I forget that Nick doesn't expect me to carry DD by myself. (Maybe he did at first, but not anymore.) If I need his help, whether it's a new rule, or a stress reliever/attitude adjustment spanking, or just renewed ambition and focus, I can just ask! That makes me pretty blessed, huh?

Off to clean the den...

See ya in the funny papers...

And now, some spanking cartoons for your enjoyment.

Reckoning Delayed...

Today was kind of rough. First of all Nick hurt his back pretty badly. I hate to see him in pain, and what makes it frustrating is that he did it bending to pick up a bag that was filled with literally nothing more than soiled paper towels. He apparently just twisted the wrong way.

Then, maybe an hour later, our little girl fell and cut her leg. How that happened is pretty complicated, but basically she jumped up on something she shouldn't have (as 4 year olds will do). It was an old doll clothes chest whose sides were made of cardboard covered by thin pink sheet metal. The protective covering had come off on one side without our knowing it, and when she jumped up on it, it flipped over and the edge of the sheet metal sliced into her leg. It wasn't a deep cut, but it bled tremendously, and cleaning it was horrible. She was screaming at the top of her lungs as he held her and I poured the peroxide on it, and I think I was crying harder than her. Changing the bandage a few minutes ago was just as hard.

Right now she's running around the bedroom playing paper airplanes with her dad, so she's not in any ongoing pain, but you all know how heartrending it is when your baby gets hurt. After it happened, I'd taken her to the bathroom, and Nick came charging in, back spasms and all, and he held her while I ran upstairs to get the bandages. He's such an amazing father.

Anyway, he said that we will deal with the spanking in a couple of days, assuming he is able. We'd appreciate your prayers if you think of it. He's a mechanic, and back pain in that line of work is devastating.

Back here again...

I may be getting spanked this weekend. This is my frustration: The house is rather a mess, and I know this, and I've even had good intentions all week. But I kept getting sidetracked by one thing or another. My mom would call and keep me tied up, or I'd sit down to have breakfast and get engrossed in a show, or I'd lose track of time cuddling with our daughter, or I'd think, "I'll just finish this article, then I'll get to the dishes."

The frustration is that I know better. I know that there are only so many hours in the day, and over a third of them are eaten up by work and commuting. And I know that any spanking I get will be easier to take than knowing that I've let Nick down.

He works 5 1/2 days a week so that we can make ends meet. I work 5 myself, but I do have Saturday mornings off without him, and our daughter (a night owl like me) usually sleeps till he gets home in the afternoon. That means that Saturday morning is my time to do some uninterrupted housecleaning. I usually do pretty well. Most weeks, the entire downstairs is clean by the time he gets home. Today it wasn't. I wasn't even quite finished with the kitchen.

He didn't say anything, but I brought it up later in a vague sort of way, and he told me that I most likely had a spanking coming. Jokari may have been mentioned. I dread the spanking, but I also know that if it doesn't happen, in a very real way I will feel unfinished. I disappointed him, and I need him to work that out on my butt.

Sometimes I really feel like a failure as a submissive wife, because I just can't seem to get a handle on the housework. But I am definitely better than I was pre-DD. Once upon a time, I just didn't make an effort. And it took more than just his heavy sighs to make me feel guilty. It took him yelling and screaming and throwing things (not at me) for me to really see what a horrible job I was doing. Then I would decide to do better. But my resolve always faded with his outrage. That's definitely no longer the case.

Now that he spanks me, not only are there physical consequences to deal with, but there's also healthy communication. When he gives me a spanking, he always takes the time to sit down and discuss with me what we need to do to prevent the next one. Not just what I need to do. What we need to do. And it really helps. Maybe that's why I get housework spankings maybe once a month or so, as opposed to the weekly to daily explosive arguments we had pre-DD. And maybe that's why the spankings don't leave me angry and hurt like the arguments did. He's not just asking me to care about his needs. He's showing me that he cares about mine too.

And as I possibly face another spanking for the same old screw up, I want to thank him for understanding that the fact that we're here again does not mean that it's not working. The fact that I can count on being here again as a means of acknowledging and dealing with my imperfection is the reason it works as well as it does. I know that I will never be Martha Stewart or Bree Van de Camp. But what keeps me striving for the ideal is knowing that I don't have to do it all on my own. When I inevitably fall short, Nick is here to give me a shot in the arm (or butt) and get me back on track.

And I think he's learning, as I am, that going easy on me or letting me off the hook completely doesn't do either of us any favors. I need that reminder that he's the boss and that there are unavoidable consequences, and he needs the reminder that he doesn't have to put up with less than obedience. My Lord, what a meandering road this is sometimes.

Beswitched by Scottybot