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.