Ritual versus Punishment

Spanking is something I’ve been interested in for a long time. I now recall an incident when I was about ten or eleven regarding spanking that I might relate at a latter date, but spanking has been on my mind for quite a while.

I remember trying to introduce F/m discipline to C a few years into our marriage. I was on a business trip in Monterey, California. I had a dead afternoon. I was driving around Monterey when I noticed an adult store so I parked and went in to see if they had any interesting toys. We didn’t have such stores where I lived.

As I perused the store, I came across a locked case containing leather floggers and other leather implements designed to use on someone’s bottom. One of the floggers caught my eye. I imagined C whipping me with it, and the fantasy caused me to go into a mild state of arousal. I had to really screw up my courage to ask the only sales clerk in the store to open the case for me so I could examine the flogger. Finally, I thought what the heck, these people will never see me again, and the stuff is there to sell anyway.

I told the clerk that I would like to see the flogger. He said he was helping another customer, but he would be over in a few minutes. I went back and stood by the case.

A man in the store, who had apparently overheard my brief conversation with the clerk, came up to me and said “Who’s going to be whipped with that, you, or your wife?”

I was a little taken aback. I was young, in my thirties, and I was a bit embarrassed about being in the store in the first place. I wasn’t quite sure whether this man had some type of motive in approaching me. However, I kept my composure and said, “Oh, I don’t know, maybe a little of both.”

“Well, it’s all a game anyway,” he said. “As long as everybody has fun,” and he moved on.

I bought the flogger for forty dollars, which I thought was a pretty stiff price, but I fantasized about C using it on me, and decided it was well worth it.

I got C some other nice presents as well (not in the adult store though). When I got home I was showing her the things I had bought for her, and I finally brought out the flogger.

“What’s that?” C exclaimed.

“It’s a flogger. I was hoping you would whip me with it, because I’ve been a very naughty boy.”

“In your dreams,” C said.

I was very disappointed.

C did actually use the flogger on me once when we were having a hot weekend in a hotel somewhere. And, I actually used it on her once. However, two whippings with a forty dollar flogger makes it twenty dollars a whipping, which is not a terribly good value.

When we moved ten years ago, C was cleaning things out, and tossed the flogger along with a number of my other kinky things I had collected over the years. Fortunately I noticed and recovered all of the items.

Well, that ramble dates my interest in discipline to the early years of my marriage to C. There were other things I came upon over the years. I found a very nice broad backed, flat wooden hairbrush with a very nice handle for gripping. I purchased it. It was never used to brush hair even though it sat on the bathroom counter in plain sight for many years. C knew what the implication was, and I may have been explicit, but she chose to ignore my desires.

Eventually, out of frustration, I just laid it out for C. C listened and said O.K., but never initiated anything. If I requested a spanking she would comply, but never really got into it.

I then posted to this blog my ideas on spanking being a submission ritual and emailed a copy of the post to C (C never reads my blog). At that point she seemed to understand a little better where I was coming from and our spanking interaction improved and increased.

Everyone says that in a spanking relationship or an FLR, communication is the most important element. I am certainly not in and FLR at this point in time and my communication skills are not moving me in that direction very fast. One of the main problems is that C seems to be very uncomfortable discussing anything about spanking, FLR or our sexual interaction. When I try to start a dialogue on such topics nothing comes back, and C changes the subject as quickly as possible.

So with that background I will describe the past Saturday to you. I got a spanking on Saturday morning. Both of my live-at-home children had volunteered to help in a school science event that required them to travel to another town – at six in the morning. C came into the kitchen when I was cooking dinner on Friday night. She put her chin on my shoulder and patted me on the bottom and whispered, “I’m afraid there is going to be a spanking tomorrow.” I just smiled.

C plays this as a game. She doesn’t really grasp my real need for her control, her discipline and my desire to be submissive to her.

In any case the children left at six the next morning and at eight I got spanked.

I took a shower and put on punishment panties, and then climbed back into bed where C was reading the paper, and having a cup of coffee that I had served her.

“Don’t get back in bed,” C said. “You need to do your corner time and think about how bad you’ve been.”

“O.K.” I said. “But, you know C, this isn’t exactly a game to me.”

“It’s a game,” C said. “Go do your corner time. I’ll take care of you in a few minutes.”

C eventually took me to the couch in the living room. She read out the infractions that I had written in the punishment book, lowered my panties, and put me over her lap for a moderate spanking. She then held me for several minutes, the part of spanking I like best. My panties were still around my knees, and I realized after a while that I had an erection. That doesn’t usually happen. Finally, she took me back to the bedroom and we made love. I had an orgasm, she did not.

Latter in the afternoon, I drove C into town to have lunch, and run some errands. While in the car I decided to have some dialogue with her about our spanking session.

“That was a good spanking session this morning,” I said. “I like your control and the bonding rush I get after you spank me. You should spank me more. You should really spank me anytime I screw up.”

“Hmmmm,” C said.

“For example,” I said, “you should really have spanked me when I had that meltdown three weeks ago over the magazine you threw away. You should have hauled me back to the bedroom and told me that as soon as the kids were out of the house I would get a spanking, and ordered me to put on my punishment panties to remind me of my impending fate.”

“Hmmmm,” said C.

“You know C, I really need your control and your discipline. You really are the better half of this marriage. I screw up all the time, and I should be disciplined for it, you never do. You’re older than I am, a little bit; you earn more money than I do, you work harder than I do, and you are just a better person. You deserve and need to express some real authority over me, and I will submit to it.”

“That is ridiculous,” said C. “You don’t screw up all the time and we are equals. I want to be equals. I’m six months older than you, I made a miniscule amount more than you did last year for the first time in our marriage, and what does that have to do with anything anyway, and I don’t work harder than you do.”

“Yes you do. You work all day and then come home and write reports all evening. I never do that.”

“I don’t want this spanking thing to be our whole relationship. Anyway, where do you want to have lunch? It will have to be somewhere fairly fast. My hair appointment is at two.”

That is what passes for communication in a thirty year plus marriage. I didn’t press it, and we had a nice afternoon.

Now, after that very brief discussion of screwing up, I screwed up. I did not do it intentionally, I never do. It was simply a lapse of judgment.

C was planning to go out of town for two days to a conference with a colleague. Her colleague was going to drive, but had gotten ill. C thought she might have to drive, and since the children were out of town with the other cars, I was to be stranded in the boonies all Sunday. This impacted my grocery shopping strategy. For the evening, I bought a bottle of cabernet for C, because she drinks red wine, and I got two bottles of chardonnay for me, one for the evening, and one for Sunday. However I did not want C to know about the second bottle of chardonnay, because she gets uptight about my drinking. I separated the bottles and left one in the trunk of the car when I took the groceries in. Latter I went out to retrieve it, planning to hide it in the bin that we use to recycle bottles. The bagger at the grocery store had wrapped the bottle in a brown paper bag. Just as I was lifting the lid of the recycle bin, C came into the garage for some reason, and surprised me.

“What are you doing?”

“Just throwing some bottles away,” I said as I dumped the bag wrapped bottle in the recycle bin.

C looked suspicious. I knew I had been caught, but I went back into the house.

A bit latter I walked into the kitchen and there was C holding the wine bottle.

“Why are you hiding wine from me? What are you doing?” C said with a good deal of irritation in her voice.

“I just wanted some wine for tomorrow, and I thought I would be stranded here all day,” I said.

“But why are you hiding it?”

“I don’t know,” I said. I was very embarrassed.

“I have a good mind to make you write this down in your punishment book, but I guess that would just reward you!” C slammed the bottle down on the counter and walked out.

I felt very bad, but I was stunned by her statement. Had punishing me with a spanking for a real offence momentarily crossed her mind?

Latter I was building a fire for C as she reclined in her leather chair in the den.

“C,” I said, “if you want to punish me for what I did today, you may.”

“Why would I do that, you like spankings?”

“I don’t like spankings. I like the ritual in the ritual spankings we do. You don’t have to do those things you do in a ritual spanking. I’ll submit to your discipline. I want your discipline.”

“Just build my fire please.”

And that was the end of a very strange Saturday.

Avatar

I have decided to change the avatar on my blog to the one pictured at left. This picture is by Barbara O'Toole. It is a bit clearer than the avatar I have previously used. The spanker looks like C, primarily because C has the same hair color and style and is about the same build. We also have a similar ottoman which has been used for the same purpose. Unfortunately, I am not as young as the young man receiving punishment, but I can certainly imagine how he feels.

The Sacrifice

This painting shows how really strange I am. I like this painting. It is by the 19th century Belgium symbolist painter Felician Rops. I actually saw this painting at an exhibition at the Museum of Fine Arts in Houston many years ago (maybe thirty). I believe C was with me at the time, but she was not as impressed with the painting as I was. I think about sex, spanking, etc. as rituals, and this painting just “brings it all home.” Curiously, when I was younger this is the way I thought about sex with women. I fantasized about a ritualistic sacrifice of a woman’s virginity on an altar. Today, I wish the genders in this painting were reversed. I would like to be the sacrifice over C’s lap. My anal virginity is still intact as well, but I don’t think C is interested in sacrificing it.

Montreal

I took C to Montreal this past weekend for her birthday. I was packing my small bag when C came into the room holding a pair of my punishment panties. “Do you want to take these?” she said. “I just washed them.”

“Do you want me to wear them?” I said. I had actually already packed a few pairs.

“Yes. Actually no. I don’t want to explain if we are in a car accident, but I think you should take them.”

“O.K.” I said, and threw them in the suitcase.

We had a wonderful time. We ate, drank and … We stayed at a nice hotel near the place pictured above. I had brought along some spanking implements, just in case, but since I am a rather noisy spankee C declined out of consideration for guests that may have been in adjacent rooms. She did, however, consecrate a few pairs of punishment panties for me (I’m such a pervert).

Montreal is a nice place. It’s like a foreign country within a foreign country, and it’s only a few hours away. If you go to Toronto or Calgary you don’t feel like you’ve really gone anywhere different (apologies to Calgary and Toronto residents. I do enjoy visiting those cities, however).

We had dinner Saturday night at the Bonaparte Restaurant, a French restaurant that is attached to the Auberge Bonaparte, a very nice small hotel in old Montreal. If you are in Montreal you should try it. The food is excellent, and I found the restaurant rather sexy.

Do you suppose Josephine spanked Napoleon?

Punishment Panties

So, what is it that I have about this panty thing, anyway? I don’t consider myself a cross dresser, but panties play into my fantasies concerning spanking. I set up our spanking ritual (because C would not have had a clue, being vanilla in the extreme), and I included “punishment panties” in the ritual from the beginning. C couldn’t quite get her head around this. My wearing panties concerned her.

“Not my panties,” she said. “That wierds me out.”

Of course, that is exactly what I wanted to do. I wanted C to “make” me wear a pair of her panties when she spanked me. However, not wanting to push too hard, I ordered several pairs of punishment panties online from a site that sold “panties for men.” I sold it to C, sort of, by explaining that even though the underwear looked feminine, they were really cut for men (which so the site claimed), but we would call them “punishment panties” in any case. C just rolled her eyes. I also made the rule that I could only wear the panties when instructed to do so by C.

Now, I don’t know where this desire to wear panties during discipline comes from (although I will make some guesses later), but I know it is not an uncommon desire of men in the F/M spanking world. For example, Ken of “Spanked by My Lady” indicated that though he was not one to just wear panties, he did get an erotic rush when his wife made him wear them. Spanked Hubby of the popular blog of the same name (now defunct) also admitted to wearing panties for some of his spankings. Then, of course there are Yahoo groups such as “Men Spanked in Panties”, and on and on. It is comforting to know that I am not a complete whack job, or if I am there are others out there like me.

Well, why panties?

I was searching Google about panty fetishes, and, sure enough, Wikipedia had something to say about it. Their article claimed that men with a panty fetish saw panties as possessing a certain sexual power. The article was not well documented, and flagged as needing improvement. Nevertheless, I see some truth in what was postulated.

The female vagina and genitals are objects that hold a deep seated desire for the heterosexual male. I daresay that the power, such as it is that women hold over men, would not exist at all if they didn’t possess that organ that is the focus of so much male attention. It is truly amazing that women haven’t taken more advantage of that power, as for example Lysistrata did, over the centuries. In any case, the delicate panties that encase the female genitals are also a fascination to men. I can remember as a very young child looking at the women’s underwear section of the Sears and Roebuck catalogue, and instinctively understanding that there was something behind that fabric that I wanted.

Panties are the gossamer barrier to that which men most desire. They must be removed, with permission from the wearer, to achieve that enlightened state of intimate contact and ultimately the orgasm that we crave. They are the castle that protects the prize, and consequently represent power.

When, by command, panties are put in contact with the male genitals they become a symbol of the power his lover has over him. Ultimately, the woman to whom the panties belong deliciously lowers them before your punishment. The statement is: this is my castle; I have imprisoned you in its most intimate walls, but I can enter at any time. To be made to wear panties by your lover is a grand symbol of the power and dominance of the female over the male.

I don’t particularly feel humiliation when I’m told to put on punishment panties before a spanking. In fact, I rather like the way they feel, and I enjoy mental experience of the symbolism that I described above. If I were made to wear them all day, for example to work, I would feel the potential for humiliation, for example if someone discovered I was wearing them, but that potential is a bit exciting too. Consequently, I have on occasion, worn panties to work without C’s knowledge. A few weeks ago she caught me wearing them as I was getting undressed for bed. I was obliged to write in my punishment book that I had worn punishment panties without permission. That was one of the six or seven items that my maintenance spanking was administered for last Sunday.

This morning I had the urge to wear my panties again. I was in the bedroom getting dressed and had gotten a pair out of the drawer. They were white satin briefs with a little lace. C, unexpectedly, walked into the bedroom from the bathroom just as I was about to put them on. I decided on the spot that I should ask her permission, so I did. I held up the panties and said “C, may I wear these punishment panties to work today?”

“No! Absolutely not,” was her reply.

I was a little surprised that she didn’t just role her eyes and say “Sure, why not.” I put the panties back in the drawer and put on a pair of jockeys.

Later at breakfast she asked me, “Did you sneak back into the bedroom and put on your punishment panties while I was taking my bath?”

“No,” I said.

She didn’t check but just said “Good.”

Latter I wondered if by denying me she was trying to set me up for a spanking. That would have been, and maybe was, a missed opportunity.

Photo From: Spanked Men in Panties

Productivity

I have to say that after my spanking Sunday, I was rather productive around the house. Winter is coming and we have a lot to do. I am often quite lazy on weekends. I will often tell C at about 2:30 or 3:30 that I am going to take a nap for thirty minutes. These “naps” often extend for two hours and then I don’t get anything else done, except maybe to cook dinner. C rarely takes a nap and is usually much more productive on weekends.

Now, I have seen such comments made on other FLR-DD blogs, but I am rather skeptical that adult spanking really leads to increased productivity of any sort. Furthermore, I can’t really call the spanking relationship C and I have a true FLR-DD relationship. C, I’m sure, doesn’t think of it that way, if she even knows what an FLR-DD relationship is.

I find it very strange that I seem to detect this increase in productivity when C spanks me. It may just be coincidence, but I noticed it last summer when C was spanking me. I wish I could quantify it some way, but I haven’t a clue how. I suppose I could record in the punishment book what I perceive to accomplish for the week after a sound spanking, and try to compare it to weeks when I am not spanked. That type of “experiment” would be anecdotal but might provide some information. It would be a little tedious, but I might try it.

Unfortunately, when my spanking obsession bubbles up, I become less productive at work. Perhaps our rather attractive, albeit slightly older, business manager should spank me. I don’t really think C would approve of that though. Perhaps C should give me a spanking in the morning before work for incentive. Now there’s an idea.

A Maintenance Spanking

Well, I finally got my maintenance spanking yesterday. It should have happened Friday, the 29th of October, but there were privacy issues with the children around. The rule is that the spanking should occur at the next private opportunity, but that opportunity never really materialized over that last October weekend.

The next opportunity was this past weekend. My son went on a road trip with a friend for the weekend, and my daughter went to Boston to house-sit a cat for one of her friends who was away for the weekend. I thought C and I would have Friday night to ourselves, but our daughter stayed for dinner before driving into Boston, dinner was late, and C was tired. We went to bed.

Now, being older, our sex life is a bit routine. I usually wake up about an hour before C, walk the dogs, bring in the paper and make coffee for her (I’m not much of a coffee drinker). When she wakes up I bring her a cup of coffee, and the paper and go take a shower. After my shower I go back to bed, and we usually make love.

When I came out of the shower into the bedroom C was still reading the paper, but she looked up and said, “Well Throck, I’m going to have to spank you this morning so I want you to put on your punishment panties, and go do your corner time while I finish the paper.”

I begged off. “C, could we do that tonight?” I whined. “I really don’t like to be spanked right before I make love to you. Spanking and sex involve a different set of emotions for me, and I don’t like having them conflict.” That, in fact is the truth. That is why I like to be spanked on Friday night, and then savor the “bonding rush” I get when C holds me after the spanking. Then the next morning we make love, and hopefully I still feel my warm bottom when I’m taking my shower.

“I can’t believe you said that,” said C, thinking I would never pass on a spanking. “Okay, put on your punishment panties and come back to bed. You can just wear them all day.” She really shouldn’t have let me get away with postponing my spanking, but she did.

Saturday evening came. We had had dinner, and C was working at her computer. She is a bit of a workaholic. She had not mentioned spanking since morning. I waited until after nine o’clock for some instructions, but none came. I had had a little too much wine at dinner and was feeling sleepy. I took the dogs out in the dark for a while, but when I came back in C was still at the computer. Still no instructions, so I decided to go to bed.

C came to bed about forty-five minutes later. She rolled over and patted me on the bottom. “You need to get up and get a spanking,” she said. I was a little groggy and didn’t respond immediately. “But, if you rub my back I’ll let you off until tomorrow.” I rubbed her back, and went to sleep.

The next morning I got up early because I had forgotten about changing my clock back an hour for the end of daylight savings time. I walked the dogs, made the coffee, but C still wasn’t awake. I got on the computer, and hit the spanking blogs. I posted a comment on the MBS Sunday Brunch, which was being hosted by Hermione this past weekend. It concerned obsession with spanking. I certainly have that obsession. I mentioned in the comment that I was scheduled to get a maintenance spanking in a few hours, and I was a little nervous. I was. I hadn’t had a spanking in a while, but when C has spanked me she has been much less tentative about it than she was initially. I heard C call, so I logged off and went to get her coffee, strangely excited after reading the spanking blogs about my upcoming discipline.

I took C her coffee and the paper, and then took my shower. When I finished the shower, I went to the bedroom, and got a pair of punishment panties out of my drawer, and began to put them on.

“What are you doing?” said C.

“I’m putting on punishment panties,” I said a little surprised by the question. “You told me last night you were going to spank me this morning.”

“I want you to make love to me this morning,” C said. “I thought you didn’t like to get spanked right before we make love. We’ll spank later.”

“You’re right,” I said, “but, I don’t think there will be a later. We’re having some wood delivered this morning at ten and the children will start coming in at around noon. I think we need to get this over with.” Topping from the bottom, bad form.

“Okay,” C said. “Put your panties on, and go get the hairbrush and the punishment book, and stand in the corner with them until I finish the paper.” I was headed to the bathroom to get the hairbrush when C said “Wait!” I turned around and she was holding her coffee cup out to me. “Since you’re going to be my sex slave today, please bring me another cup of coffee before you go to the corner.”

I obediently took the cup. “Sex slave,” I thought. Where did that come from? C just doesn’t talk like that. However, I sort of liked it. I got the coffee, went back to the bedroom, and gave it to C, then fetched the brush, and the punishment book, and went to the corner.

In about fifteen minutes I heard C put down the paper and her coffee cup and get out of bed. She came up behind me in the corner, put her arms around me, and rubbed and pinched my nipples. “It’s time,” she said. “I’ll spank you in the living room on the couch. We’ll leave the dogs in here.” The dogs get upset when C spanks me.

She led me to the living room and sat down in the middle of the couch. She was wearing a short nightgown and her robe was open so I got a good view of the lap I would soon be across.

There were about six items in the punishment book. C read each one of them out, and scolded me a little. C is not very good at scolding. She still views this as a game (whereas to me it is a very important ritual in our marriage that manifests her control over me), so her scolding comes off as a little artificial. There is not much of an humiliation factor to it.

As I listened, and apologized for each offence, I thought back to a comment Danielle made on the last entry in by blog concerning how she used the punishment book to discipline her husband. She would lecture her husband and then spank him with several different implements for the several different offences he had committed. “However,” she said, “one has to be reasonable. It’s a punishment, not an execution!”

Not an execution, I thought. C is only going to use the hairbrush but I’m afraid it will hurt like sin. I was getting butterflies and my legs trembled a little.

“Okay Throck, over my lap.”

I lay across C’s lap and she slowly lowered my panties. She made little circles on my bottom with the hairbrush, and then, whap! Not very hard. Whap, on the other cheek, a little harder. Whap, whap, whap on alternating cheeks and getting increasingly intense. By six or seven swats, I was squirming and crying out. I don’t know how many strokes C gave me. It seemed like a lot.

After a while I was screaming, “No, please, stop!”

“No, please and stop are not your safe words, Throck. I’ll stop when I think you are properly punished.”

Somewhere in my brain I liked hearing C’s remark. I’m not sure how it got through, the pain signals were intense.

Finally, it did stop. C held me close to her and rubbed my bottom. I buried my face in her neck. I wasn’t crying but I was breathing hard, taking great gulps of air as if I might have been sobbing.

She let me calm down for several minutes, and then said “Come back to bed and I’ll hold you some more.”

We went back to bed and C held me for a while. I finally made love to her, and she had a mind blowing, violent orgasm, something that is quite rare for C. It excited me terribly.

I thought to myself: sex slave, spanking, orgasm; is there something that is starting to push C’s buttons here? I might have to rethink my ideas on keeping spanking and sex separate.

Maintenance

A number of posts ago, I discussed creating a punishment book in which I would write down all my transgressions so that C could take appropriate measures. The comments were generally negative, but Recidavist agreed with me, and had some good arguments.

The problem is that during my recent illness there was a hiatus in spanking, and I think C is having a bit of a hard time getting back into it. Also, two of the children have moved back home and that puts a damper on virtually everything.

I decided maintenance discipline might be the solution, and so I asked C to do maintenance discipline on the last Friday of each month. All she said was “Well, not if the children are home.”

“That’s fine,” I said. “I will write in the ‘Naughty Book’ all the things I need to be disciplined for.” C rolled her eyes.

One of the reasons I like the idea of a punishment book is that C misses a lot of opportunities to spank me. I thought if I wrote down the things that I screw up on she might see more reason to give me some discipline, and eventually do it spontaneously. I also noticed, in visiting one of Bonnie’s Sunday Brunches, that many people actually schedule their spankings. So, shouldn’t we?

We will see how it works out. I already have three entries in the Punishment Book. I hope the children have plans for next Friday.

Cropping

My two children, who moved in with me recently, were visiting friends this past weekend. Thus, there was an opportunity to try out the crop I purchased recently in Houston.

I asked C to use it on me. When she actually held it, she was a little apprehensive about using it. I was too. I knew it would hurt like sin. I demonstrated its use on a pillow at the foot of the bed.

C said “I can’t hit you that hard.”

“Well, you have to, to give an effective cropping,” I said. “Try a few strokes on the pillow.”

C took a few tentative strokes at the pillow.

I pulled the ottoman up to the foot of the bed, and knelt on it with my upper torso supported by the bed. I was very nervous about this crop.

C lowered my punishment panties that I’m always required to wear for a spanking, and laid the crop against my bottom, apparently trying to get a feel for where to make the first cut. I had found some instructions online on “how to cane,” and she had read them, but seemed horrified.

I was very nervous as she lifted the crop.

Wap! The first stroke fell, and I hardly felt it.

“That didn’t hurt,” I said. “Do it harder.”

The next few strokes were harder, but not really painful. In a strange way, they almost felt good, sort of a tickle-itchy feeling.

C gave me about ten strokes.

“OK, that’s it,” she said.

“Don’t stop!” I pleaded.

“Your bottom is all red,” C said. “Go look in the mirror.”

I did. My bottom was slightly pink. None of the welts and stripes I had expected.

I have learned that, just as you never criticize your wife’s lovemaking technique, (although her lovemaking technique doesn’t need criticism) one never criticizes her spanking technique either, and I didn’t. You take what you can get, and be thankful that you get it, especially when you have a very vanilla wife.

It is interesting, though. C uses the hairbrush and bath brush with abandon, often pushing me to my limit. The crop, however, seems to scare her a bit. Anyway, we will continue to practice, I hope, and I think I will try to get a cane to use as well. A cane may not look as intimidating to her as a black braided leather crop.

New Toy

Recently, I was in Houston, Texas for business. While there, I decided to buy C a new vibrator. There is an application called Yelp on my Iphone that I use mainly to find restaurants, but can also be used to find other commercial establishments. I checked “shopping,” “adult,” and a number of stores popped up. I picked the one that had the best reviews. The review that caught my eye said that “the staff was nice, and no question was too silly, or too perverted.” I was apprehensive about going to a sex shop but all the reviews claimed this particular one was a “classy” store with helpful people, and had existed in Houston for a very long time. I picked out a nearby restaurant and went out to dinner to get my nerve up before investigating the sex shop.

The particular area of Houston is interesting, with some nice restaurants, but is still a little sketchy. After dinner, I drove about two blocks to the store, a very sketchy area on east Westheimer near Montrose. I went into the store and it was large and well lit. I was the only customer, thank goodness. There were two sales clerks, a young man and a young woman, both very Gothic looking.

I wanted a Lelo Iris vibrator for C, and the Yelp reviews indicated the store might sell them. I walked to the checkout counter were the attractive Goth young woman was standing and noticed some Lelo vibrators in the display case. They were not what I wanted.

“Are these all the Lelo vibrators you have?” I asked the Goth girl.

“No, we have more back in the corner,” she said.

I walked back with her, and there it was, the Lelo Iris, a very pretty vibrator indeed. It was no more expensive than ordering on-line, so I bought it.

It was then I noticed a pale full of crops and canes. I picked up a crop and looked at the price, and was surprised how inexpensive it was.

“My wife spanks me,” I said,”and I need a new spanking implement.” I can’t believe I said that to her.

She didn’t bat an eye. “These are very good crops, even though they are cheap. I’m sure your wife would find it very effective.”

As we walked back to the cash register to check out, I muttered to myself, “I’m too old to be kinky.”

“You’re never too old to be kinky,” the Goth girl said. “Kink is what it’s all about.”

I hope she’s right.

When I got home, I showed the new toys to C.

“Thank you for the vibrator,” C said. Brandishing the crop, she said, “I will try to use this on you soon.”

I’m a little apprehensive about the crop. It looks pretty wicked. I don’t know how much of it I could take, and I don’t think C has a clue as to how to use it.

In any case, I don’t think it is an immediate problem, because two of our children have moved back in with us and spanking has become non-existent. It makes writing for this blog a little difficult.

Pain

As I stated in my last post, I am kind of a wimp when it comes to pain. However, it seems that a spanking is not a spanking without very real pain. I’m really not sure why that is the case, but it is certainly my own experience.

A few weeks ago I asked C for a spanking just before we were going to make love. Nothing elaborate, I just wanted to lie over her lap a get a hand spanking. Now, she has complained in the past that hand spankings hurt her hand, so I fetched her gloves thinking that would help. They are not very thick gloves (they are lined leather gloves that she uses in the winter), but I thought they would give her hand some protection and they are also sexy on her.

I lay across her lap and asked her to spank me hard and fast as if she were giving a real spanking. She did, but there was no pain. She barely turned my bottom pink, even though she claimed to be spanking me as hard as she could. The spanking would have been a lost cause except for the fact that I got to lie naked over her bare thighs. The spanking itself was pretty unsatisfying without the element of pain. As Bonnie of My Bottom Smarts commented in her brunch last week, “A spanking must hurt, and more than a little, while it's happening. Ideally, it should seem like more than I want at the moment, but create vivid memories for later.” (italics mine for emphasis)

Those are my sentiments exactly. I think most spankees would agree with that statement, but why is that the case. I know about the endorphin theories, but I think there must be more to it than that. Endorphins should be released in any painful event, and I don’t think you would have a bonding rush with your wife if she accidentally kneed you in the groin. There must be something special that happens in the context of spanking that requires the pain to produce the effect, and why does the spankee actively seek that out.

Spankings are fun. The anticipation, the teasing, the dress-up and the bonding are all integral to the satisfying spanking. I have read a number of spanking writers that claim pain is not the real issue in spanking, rather it is how the spanker gets into the mind of the spankee. So, why do spankings have to hurt to make them work?

Spanked

C came through on her promise of discipline for being naughty. I got a spanking last night. I thought it would be just before we went to bed. However, she came home about 5:30 and after pouring a glass of wine said, “I know you are anxious to start dinner but you need to be punished and I want you to go to the bedroom, put on your punishment panties and wait for me in the corner.”

The timing surprised me a little, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to be spanked right then, but I complied. C came into the room after I had been in the corner for a few minutes and announced it was time. She made me choose the implement, and I chose the wooden hairbrush. It has a large square flat back and a shorter handle than the Vermont Country Store bath brush and I reasoned it would hurt less. The long handle on the bath brush and the smaller surface area produce more momentum and higher stress (force/area) on the bottom.

I presented C with the brush, and she lowered my panties and instructed me to lie over her lap. I did. She teased me with the brush for a few seconds and then began to spank, slowly at first, then more rapidly. I don’t think C really scolds much while spanking, but I’m not sure I would know because I am yelling and kicking about 5 spanks into my spankings. Those brushes hurt like sin, and it seems like C is becoming much less tentative in paddling me. My physics analysis of the two brushes doesn’t really seem to hold up. Both brushes hurt terribly. I may just be a wimp, but after fifteen to twenty strokes I have a difficult time staying on her lap and I contemplate using the safe word. Finally she stopped after pushing me a little farther than I wanted to go. I want her to push, but it is really hard for me.

I got off C’s lap, and she held me for a few minutes. She then told me to leave my punishment panties on, and go fix dinner. That was a little bit of a disappointment to me because I like to lie down with C, and have her hold me for a long time after a spanking. That’s when I get my best bonding rush. I’m not sure C quite gets that part of it. I expect she will one day though, and it was a very good spanking. When I sat down for dinner I could still feel it. C commented that it turned her on a little to spank me. I thus regard it as a very successful experience for both of us and look forward to the next one.

Artwork: Barbara O'Toole from Spanked_by their_Wives Yahoo Group

Texting

C is really getting into this texting thing. I just got a text message that went something like this:

C: Are you behaving yourself?

Me: Not really. (I wasn't either. I was looking at spanking blogs)

C: Uh Oh. You know what that means?

Me: I hope so.

C: Think about it. I will see you later.

Me: O.K. I love you.

We have never done this sort of thing before and it really excites me for some reason. It's probably the anticipation factor. But I'm also excited that C might be getting more into spanking me. This, as far as I can remember, is the first time C has initiated a spanking. In the past I've always had to prompt for one. This is exactly the way I imagined being punished by C. I'd better go out and buy her some flowers. I'll let you know how it turns out.

Back to Blogging

Well, I have had a little bout with cancer, and it has distracted me from blogging (for about eight months). Furthermore, C was not really into spanking me, since she thought my life might be in danger. Fortunately, surgery seems to have solved the problem, at least for now. So I have encouraged C to give me what I need, and she has complied. I got spanked twice this weekend. I did have to ask for it. I sent her a text message, “I’ve been naughty!” and she replied “You will have to be punished!” That gave me quite a thrill.

On Saturday morning she gave me a good spanking. While cuddling me afterward, she said, “I just don’t get it, but if it’s what you want then I’m glad to do it.” So I had my bonding rush and thought that I had had a pretty good start to the weekend.

Sunday morning came, and C was reading the paper in bed, and I was serving her coffee. She had not put the bath brush up from the day before, and it was lying on the bedside table.

“I think you need another spanking,” said C. “Come get over my lap right now.”

I was surprised but I complied. C picked up the bath brush and began to paddle me, reciting a little poem as she did:

“One two, buckle my shoe.”

“Three four, shut the door,” and so on, smacking me with the brush on each beat of the poem.

“Nine, ten, let’s do it again.” And, she did!

Wow! I think she was having a little fun at least.

I loved it. My goal is to get our spanking relationship back on track. Unfortunately, the recession is sending two of our children back home to live with us for awhile. That might be an impediment to spanking but I’ll try not to let it be an impediment to blogging.