Another Maintenance Spanking

I got spanked yesterday. It was a maintenance spanking that had been delayed by the holidays and lack of privacy. However, one of our live-in children has found a job (hooray) and moved out, and the other was visiting friends for the weekend, so we had the house to ourselves.

I had a feeling C would spank me. She knew I needed or wanted one. Sunday morning however I wasn’t sure I wanted a spanking. I knew it would hurt. C hurts me a lot more than she used to.

As usual, I had gotten up early to walk the dogs, leaving C asleep in bed. When I returned, I walked back to the bedroom intending to take a shower. I got undressed and as I started into the bathroom I heard C say, “What are you doing?”

“I’m going to take a shower.”

“Well, I have to spank you this morning, but you can take your shower first. But first bring me a cup of coffee and the newspaper.”

I was naked at this point, but I walked into the kitchen to get the coffee, realizing no one would see me because we live in such a remote place. I also realized that it was fairly cold in the house, so I turned up the heat a little. My thought was that C would undoubtedly make me do some corner time in my punishment panties, and I didn’t want to freeze. I returned to the bedroom with C’s coffee and newspaper.

“Thank you,” she said, “but, I do have to spank you, so go take your shower and come back out here and get your punishment panties on.”

I took my shower and came back into the room. “What panties do you want me to wear C?”

“The pink and black ones,” she said.

I knew she would say that. She loves those panties for some reason. I think she thinks I look silly in them, and I probably do because they are too small for me. C of course thinks this is all a silly game, and that is belied by the tone of her voice when she gives me a command or tells me she going to spank me.

“Well C,” I said, “I don’t know why you love those panties so much. They are really too small for me, but if that’s what you want I’ll wear them.” I opened her panty drawer; she lets me keep the punishment panties at the back of her drawer now.

“Which ones do you want to wear, Throck?”

I looked into the drawer at all her pretty satin panties in front. I really wanted to wear her panties. She had been traveling the week between Christmas and New Year to help our daughter get set up at her new job. During that time I had worn her panties on two separate days. I have lost a lot of weight recently and they fit pretty well. They felt good too. They are much nicer than the ones I have ordered on line. It makes me think I should buy my punishment panties in a regular store, but I’m not sure that I have the nerve.

In any case, I had written in my punishment book that I had worn panties without permission, but I did not mention that they were her panties, and I decided to not ask to wear hers for my spanking.

“I think I would like to wear the white ones. They fit me best,” I said.

“That’s O.K.,” said C. “You look very virginal in those.”

“Hmm,” I said.

I put on the panties and started to climb back in bed.

“What are you doing?” C said. “You have to do your corner time.”

“Could I please warm up a little, C? It’s cold in the house.”

“O.K., you can get back in bed for a few minutes, but you’re still going to the corner,” C said, trying to be stern, and not very effectively.

She was reading the Sunday paper, and I was afraid I might freeze in the corner for an hour.

After about twenty minutes C said, “I think you have warmed enough. I want you in that corner now to think about how naughty you’ve been, and the spanking you are going to get.”

I climbed out of bed to go to the corner when C said “Oh, and give me your punishment book, I want to read about the naughty things you’ve done.”

“C you don’t really want to read that,” I said. “You know maybe this isn’t a good idea this morning. Maybe we should postpone this spanking, and just make love.”

“No!” said C. “You’re getting a spanking, and I want to read your punishment book.”

I handed her the book. I was concerned because in addition to the more contrived indiscretions, wearing panties without permission, masturbating with out permission, etc, I had noted the incident with the wine that I mentioned in the last post. It was the first entry after my last spanking. I thought later that that was not a good idea, but it was written in ink and there was no way to remove it. I was afraid that C would be upset about that and put an end to “our game” as she called it.

I went to the corner and C started to read out the indiscretions. She ignored the first entry and did not read it aloud. She read the remaining entries and then scolded me about being naughty, and told me to think about the sound spanking I was going to get. Then she went back to reading her paper.

I must have stood in the corner for fifteen minutes or so. It seemed like a long time. I finally heard her get out of bed and move behind me. She put her arms around me and pinched my nipples.

“It’s time now Throck. I hate to do it, but you have been very naughty and I am going to have to spank you. I want you to go into the bathroom and get the blond brush with the long handle.” She was referring the Vermont Country Store bath brush. It’s a pretty painful implement.

When I returned to the bedroom she was sitting on the edge of the wingback chair, not the best spanking chair. However she had been packing away Christmas ornaments and decorations, and all of the more usual spanking furniture was covered with boxes of decorations that I was to put in the attic latter in the day. I did not think much of that chair, but there was not much I could do about it.

I handed C the bath brush and she said, “Take down your panties and get over my lap.”

Usually C takes down my panties, but I did as I was told. When I pulled the panties down to my knees I noticed that I had an erection. God knows why, that usually does not happen. When C noticed it she spread her legs apart a bit so it would fit between them. However, she made no comment. The position was very awkward. I had to support my upper body with my hands on the floor and my toes were on the floor behind. I was basically balancing on C’s lap. I was not sure I could keep the position. I had nothing to clutch with my hands when the pain began, like a leg of the ottoman or a sofa cushion. I was soon to loose my erection.

C began with a few light swats, but soon increased the intensity. C does not have much of a warm-up routine. The bath brush is very painful. I was soon crying out (after only four of five spanks), and kicking and squirming. I was afraid I was going to fall off her lap.

Finally C said, “Be quiet Throck and take your spanking. I don’t want to hear another word out of you!”

I tried to claw into the carpet and stay quiet, but after three more swats I was yelling again. However, that didn’t stop C. I began to wonder when she was going to stop, and if I was going to have to use my safe word. C probably didn’t give me that many swats, maybe between twenty and thirty; I don’t know. She also spanked the backs of my thighs as well as my bottom. She has never done that before. I feel like it was one of the most challenging spankings that I have gotten. Of course, as I have said before I am a bit of a wimp, but it seems as if the spankings are getting progressively worse. As I mentioned earlier in this post, I had a few pre-spank jitters about this spanking, and I was not sure I really wanted it. Now I know I didn’t want it. I sometimes wish there could be something like a synthetic spanking, with all the submission ritual and the bonding rush afterward, but no pain. I suppose that wouldn't work however. Without the pain a spanking is not a spanking and everything before and after would become moot.

Finally C said, “O.K., it’s over. Get up.”

I just slid to my knees on the floor with my head in her lap. She held me for a while and then we went back to bed and she held me some more. While she was holding me in bed I said, “That really hurt.”

“Spankings are supposed to hurt. You were naughty,” she said with a little more realism in her voice.

We made love then, and C had one of her rare orgasms. She is now is two orgasms out of the last three spankings she has given me. I don’t know if there is a relationship, but if there is I’m willing to take more spankings for her.

My next maintenance spanking is scheduled for January 29. But who knows, she may find a reason to spank me before that. I hope so, I think. I still get my bonding rush. I have not had the experience of feeling remnants of the spanking the next day. That has only happened once with one of my very first spankings. I have also never experienced sub-space. I don’t know if I’ll ever have the fortitude to make it there. I do love submitting to C though, even if it is painful.

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.