Better than Ketchup

Just being silly!  That’s a play on the old advertisement for Heinz Ketchup in the U.S., by the way… the one with the song that sings, “Anticipation is making me wait!”

But everyone knows that spankings are ever so much better than ketchup and better for your diet since you probably burn calories with all the squirming and tensing and yelling!

Indeed, I got my spanking as promised and since I lost track of what time it started, I can’t say exactly how long it lasted but it felt like hours! (Couldn’t have been more than an hour at the longest but sure felt like more).

And yes, I got properly bruised and a bit swollen and now have all sorts of colorful patches on my bottom!  Sitting is a definite reminder, though not intensely painful not nearly as painful as the bruises would appear to make it.

Where do I begin?

I’d emailed Dante, asking if he were up to playing since the Little Guy was gone for a couple of hours with the neighbors (to church, LOL).  I’d sorted through my coupon book before hand and hadn’t found the “right” coupon to use, so in the end (pun intended), I just stated a preference for us both being comfortable, so I suggested our bed for me and a chair beside it for him.  And I asked for his belt and thought the use of his hand was implied by asking for a thorough warm-up.

He wrote back an affirmative response that I received once the kid was safely gone and told me to get whatever toys I wanted him to use, lay them out, get the room ready and let him know when I was done. Oh … the butterflies and trickles of anticipation had already started.

I spent considerable time in the toy box, contemplating and choosing what I thought I wanted but wasn’t completely sure I could handle after only being spanked once in more than a year.  In the end (again, pun intended), the choices I made were rather brave and maybe a bit foolish on my part, but I’d made my bed and I was made to lie, and kneel and squirm and shout in it!

I carefully laid the selected toys on the dresser beside the bed: the ping-pong paddle with one side recovered in suede that I made for him a few years ago, the belt, the leather flogger (very thin and whippy) and the short bamboo cane.  Then I set my pillow at the far end of the bed and brought in the chair that Dante requested.  (I intended to lie cross-wise across the bed so he would have free and easy access.)

I changed into my sleep shirt (just an A-frame sleeveless shirt) and a pair of “boy shorts” undies and told Dante I was ready. Well, I didn’t actually SAY anything; just came in to the living room and kind of stood there.  He told me to make sure I was warm and to keep myself busy for a while. He said he was going to let the anticipation build.

Oh my God!  Did he really have to do that?  How perfectly wicked of him!  (I can hear his “evil laugh” now, in my head!)  So I put my pajama bottoms back on, with my socks and slippers because my feet get so cold, and went back to the computer.  I emailed some friends, read Dusty’s latest post, but couldn’t really focus on anything for long.  (Gee, I wonder why.)

Dante got up and left the room and I hoped he’d just gone to the shower; he had.  And when he came back, he told me to got get on the bed and get comfortable.  Well, I couldn’t head straight to the bed, of course, so I stopped for a quick pee and I heard him come into the bedroom while I was in there.

I nervously stifled my butterflies and dropped everything from the waist down (and my slippers, but not my socks), as he settled into the chair beside me.  He had the music playing loudly on the computer in the other room and soon I was swaying to a delightful blend of the music and the implements.  He doesn’t do anything “traditionally” and his spanking technique goes right along with that.

He did give me a warm-up, a really wonderful, long one, but not just with his hand.

But you’ll have to wait till tomorrow for the rest my hands are tired of typing, my bottom feels like it’s stuck to my chair, and the Little Guy needs to practice his Spanish and his piano now!

Debbie Cook

dustyciik54@gmail.com

By: Linda Granadino 

1. More closet room. That really says it all.
2. Alone PMS time.
3. He can’t see your nightly routine: checking for wrinkles, pimples and/or weight gain.
4. You don’t have to worry about hosting a Super Bowl party.
5. He’s not there to criticize your insane shopping habits and why you bought another pair of black shoes.
6. “Gossip Girl” Night.
7. Keeping the mystery (he doesn’t need to know what you really look like in the morning).
8. Hello Kitty décor all around.
9. Being able to walk around in your underwear without getting humped.
10. You don’t have deal with his laundry all over the floor…some men just don’t understand the concept of a hamper.

Push the First Four Buttons

Want to know how to make a man love you? Here’s the shocker — it’s possible to make even the most
uninterested, most emotionally-unavailable man fall madly in love with you. And it’s all about pushing the right “buttons” in the men you meet!

When was the last time you met a guy you were very interested in, but he didn’t seem to notice?

I can hear many of you saying, “Yesterday, Dusty!” (Ha! Ha!)

And I don’t blame you … there are a lot of great men out there who tickle our fancies. But can you make an uninterested guy actually want you?

The answer is, of course, yes!

And it is all about knowing, which “buttons” to press on a guy’s mind.

It’ll take a bit of time and practice, but it’s absolutely enjoyable just trying it out on him … and things get even more fun when you realize its working!

Today, we’ll talk about the 4 buttons you’ll need to push to make a man want you, even if you’re only talking for the first time or sitting down for your first date.

After all, it’s the first impression that lasts the longest … let’s make it count!

Here we go with Button #1:

BUTTON #1 - LOOKING GOOD FOR HIM

Ever heard of the phrase, “A picture paints a thousand words?”

That’s very true, especially in the dating game!

The first “picture” he sees of you … that is, when he sees you for the first time … will “talk” to him long before you actually say your first words to him!

Even “Plain Jane’s” can look great. Many of my clients are actually very average-looking, and prefer the “sweater-and-jeans” getup — but their simplicity is so elegant that men can’t help but take a second look.

And with a little work, you can be that attractive too!

You don’t have to look the best, by the way … just look the best you can possibly be.

Consider upgrading your wardrobe and adding a few form-hugging items. Ask for tips, and maybe even check magazines (and perhaps the mall) to see what the more attractive women are wearing.

BUTTON #2 - BE A FIRST-RATE VERSION OF YOURSELF

Here’s another interesting button to push … In the real world, men are used to the usual fakery that comes in the dating game and the Internet.

They’ve met their fair share of women who lie about their age, their jobs, and their plans for the future, etc., just to be loved.

But if you present yourself as yourself … with absolutely nothing to hide and nothing to be ashamed of … then it’s a breath of fresh air for him!

It might actually catch him by surprise, leaving him wondering if you’re “for real!”

All of a sudden, he’s not going to see you as a “one-night-stand” girl, but a possible partner for the long term.

And if he’s ready for a real relationship, he’s going to stick around and try to find out!

So bite back the temptation to pretend to be someone (or something) else, and just present yourself to him unapologetically.

He’s going to appreciate the change of scenery, and he’s going to respond to you more readily!

BUTTON #3 - BELIEVE IN YOURSELF

Sure, you may not be the richest girl on the block.

You may not be the prettiest or the sexiest, and you may not know too much about fashion.

That’s okay!

After all, your looks are only meant to push the first button … later on, you’ll need something more.

You’ll need a “secret weapon.”

This “secret weapon” is actually the great equalizer in the dating game.

With it, you don’t have to be the richest, prettiest, sexiest, or smartest girl around … but you’ll still make the men around you want you all to themselves.

What is this “great equalizer?”

You might be surprised … it’s actually very simple.

It’s CONFIDENCE!

Ever noticed how the most confident men out there are also the most attractive?

It doesn’t seem to matter if they’re not the tallest, richest, or best-looking … their confidence literally beckons to you to come closer and say “Hi!”

Well, guess what? It works both ways!

Men also zoom into women who are strong, confident, and independent.

They like being with a woman who can take care of herself … after all, it’s a lot more fun to have a “low-maintenance” girlfriend than one who begs for their support!

So when you’re not ashamed of yourself … when you’re confident enough to just go out there and not care what other people think of you … it’s a major plus!

It pushes all the right buttons on the men you meet. When men know you’re living a fabulous life, you can bet they’ll want to be a part of it!

So ask yourself … do you have any insecurity that hurt your confidence levels?

Do you have any personal flaws that prevent you from living a fabulous life?

Take steps to remove these insecurities, boost your self-confidence, and win the attention … and affection … of the men you’re interested in!

BUTTON #4 - JUST HAVE FUN

During first dates, many of us make the mistake of wondering, “Is he the one?”

And we end up becoming a nervous wreck throughout the date, making sure we’re saying and doing all the right things, making sure he’ll like us.

Of course, that never works. Men aren’t dumb, and they can tell you’re putting on a show.

So don’t make the mistake … just lay back, have fun, and focus on having a great time with him.

Talk!

Listen!

Tease!

Joke!

Flirt!

If you keep things light and fun for him, he’s going to be very interested in a second date!

Here’s the sad statistic … whenever you date a new single guy, chances are he’s not ready to handle a real relationship. (There are more players than boyfriend-material guys out there, after all.)

So don’t focus on the “future” … just make the most out of the “now!”

When he realizes he absolutely loves spending time with you, he might actually man up for you … and start courting. Congratulations!

Ladies, I just taught you four of the most important buttons to push in the men you meet. These buttons are meant to turn them from being uninterested to being very interested indeed!

But here’s the thing … there are more buttons to push. Some are even more effective than the 4 buttons we discussed in today’s newsletter!

Want to know more?

The Lesson Learned

My Aunt Peggy spanked with a rather light plastic hairbrush with a big, flat backside. It was not meant to bruise after a few good licks but was rather intended to allow for very long applications where your bottom just gets hotter and hotter. Her spankings often lasted between thirty to forty-five minutes and consisted of hundreds of quick, sharp spanks. Caught lying about a broken window, near the end of my seventh grade year, was one of those times but with an unexpected twist.

Spanking was fairly common in my aunt’s house, just as it was in my house, as they were common in almost everyone else’s house I knew. All my friends were well aware of the maternal hairbrush and paternal strap and the damage it could do to a tender bottom. My two cousins and I were no exceptions. Unlike in some of my friend’s houses, in my aunt’s home all spanking was done in the downstairs family room and anyone present got to see it. Neither my aunt, nor Dad cared if the house was empty, full of friends or anyone else, when you earned a spanking you would get it. The other thing they did was tell you exactly when you would get spanked and then often made you think and wait awhile for it. The end of my seventh grade in school was one of those times.

While walking home to my aunt’s house after classes - where I was staying for a week - my friend Jim and I began to pick up stones and throw them at signs, trees and anything else we decided we might be able to hit. I saw a squirrel sitting on top of a fence and gave it my best shot. I missed the squirrel but didn’t miss the nearby window on Mrs. Clarks’ back porch. As soon as we heard the glass break we ran as fast as we could so we wouldn’t get caught.

About ten minutes later I was walking through my aunt’s back door as though nothing had happened.

My aunt was in the kitchen and asked me how my day went.

I said it was ok and continued toward my room to change into my after school clothes.

“Did anything happen on the way home?” she asked.

I said “No” and continued toward my room.

“That’s not what I heard. Mrs. Clark said someone broke one of her porch windows. Do you know anything about that?” she added.

Without thinking I blurted out, “No.”

“Well, Mister! I am afraid that I do know something about it and lying about it was really not a smart thing to do. I am afraid I will have to correct that habit.” Aunt Peggy continued.

“Don’t bother changing right now, just get off those pants and underpants down and we will have a discussion.”

I knew I was in big trouble and understood well what was meant by a “discussion.” When my bottom clothes were off, I was told I would get a hand spanking right then and there, but only after we had made a stop by the kitchen sink for a little soap. She was going to wash out my mouth for lying.

“Please, I didn’t mean to.” Was all I could utter!

We made the stop at the sink and I got a good washing with Ivory Soap. While the awful taste was still filling my mouth I went over Aunt Peggy’s lap and got a good hand spanking. It hurt and made me cry but was not as bad as I had feared. Maybe she felt the soap was enough to make me really sorry. All I know is that my bottom hurt and my mouth tasted awful.

When I got up and headed for my room again she called me back telling me that we were not through yet.

Her next pronouncement was that I could stand in the corner, with my pink rear on display and the taste of soap in my mouth, until 6:00 PM - more than an hour. At six I would go to her room, get her favorite hairbrush and get a real grown up spanking that would keep me standing for dinner.

“You already spanked me, it’s not fair,” I said.

“I didn’t say it was fair, but I think it is. I also didn’t tell you that it will hurt a lot, but it will. And finally, I didn’t say it would be all of your punishment, because it won’t,” Aunt Peggy said.

As I stood in the corner both of my cousins came in. They saw me and knew that something was up. Aunt Peggy told them what had happened and that the real fireworks would start at six.

I have felt her hairbrush before and just stood there imagining how bad it was going to be. I knew I would cry and beg and act like a little boy while my cousins delighted in watching my fanny turn from pink to a bright blazing red. Even though they were still subject to spankings, they delighted when I was over their Mom’s knee getting spanked hard.

Before six, both Ann, who is two years older, and Jill, who is a year younger came into the kitchen to begin having their fun.

“Mom said Dusty is due for a six o’clock attitude adjustment session.” “I bet his attitude gets adjusted well. What do you think John? “His bottom is already a little red, that means Mom is going to use her hairbrush.” “Boy that stings, I remember my last one.” “Hey Dusty, are you looking forward to a trip over Mom’s lap? I am.”

Listening to them I began to cry even before the spanking.

“Dusty, don’t cry until Mom gives you a reason.” “You know how she likes to spank with her brush, nice and slow and long …” “Yep, I bet it takes a long time and how each spank will sting worse than the last one.” “I think I will enjoy watching your butt turned bright red, glad it’s not mine.” “And the way you will try to wiggle out of the way.” “Oh yes, and the crying, you always sound so pathetic.” “Only five more minutes to go.”

With all of the teasing I was crying real tears and my Aunt hadn’t even started. I was eleven years old with my bare bottom on display for my cousins to see and make fun of, and I knew they would soon get a good look at my private parts, it was very embarrassing. Even more embarrassing was that, while standing there, I started to get an erection, which I knew would add even more embarrassment.

Aunt Peggy came into the kitchen where all this was going on and announced, “Dusty, it’s time, go get my hairbrush and meet me in the family room.”

When I turned from the wall my cousins saw my member sticking out and began to giggle. “Mom, it looks like Dusty is looking forward to his spanking, his penis is saluting.”

“Don’t worry girls, it won’t be standing up for long,” their Mom responded.

I hurried upstairs to fetch Aunt Peggy’s brush. It wasn’t the heavy wooden brush most people talk about and my own mother uses. Her brush was a rather light plastic with a big, flat backside. It was not meant to bruise after a few good spanks. But was rather intended to allow for very long applications where your bottom just gets hot hotter and hotter until you know someone had actually burned you. Aunt Peggy’s spankings with this brush often lasted between thirty to forty-five minutes and consisted of hundreds of quick, sharp spanks. She always said that she didn’t need to spank so hard as to cause bruises or anything. She thought a longer spanking that really started a fire worked better. She also said she was positive a well-burned bottom would not be used for sitting for several hours but would be ready, if necessary, the next day.

Returning to the family room I saw Aunt Peggy sitting in her spanking chair ready for my arrival. Ann and Jill were on the couch ready to have a good look at my punishment. To hide my front from my cousins I went to her and immediately bent over her left leg, as I knew would be expected. Her right leg immediately pinned my legs so I could not get away and my bottom was fixed right where it was the most accessible. Knowing what was next, I put my right hand behind me where it was quickly grabbed by the wrist and pinned to my back. I was now positioned to receive my spanking and no matter how much I struggled, I would not be unable to do anything about it.

Aunt Peggy started spanking as soon as I was positioned. As usual, her first spanks did not result in howls of protest; that would come later. In the beginning you felt the spanks but they were by no means unbearable.

My older cousin seemed to really enjoy either me or Jill getting a good bottom warming. Just so her Mom would get into a good rhythm and I would really feel the spanking, Ann began singing her favorite song to the beat of “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.”

“Twinkle Twinkle little star, I can see how bare you are, Mom is going to spank you well, Go ahead and yell like hell. Remember, this is just the start. Soon your butt will really smart.”

I knew she was right. The sting was just starting to get a little worse when I said, “Aunt Peggy, this really is starting to hurt, please don’t.”

“Yes Dusty, it is beginning to hurt and I am quite sure it will hurt a lot more, we just got started, and it has only been a little over a minute.” She said.

In a couple of more minutes, with the brush still keeping time on my bottom, my sounds began to change. “Ouch, OW …, OW …, please, it really hurts.”

“I bet it does. I will be done in only 25 or thirty more minutes,” was all she said. All the while she never lost her rhythm on my bottom. It was just a constant spank, spank, and spank.

Long before we reached the ten-minute mark it was obvious her brush was having its desired effect.

“OW …, It Hurts, Please … Stop, OW …” I was crying and struggling to get out of the way of her brush. She didn’t say a word; she just kept up the constant blows.

Aunt Peggy didn’t spank all over, she just found the soft spot at the bottom of your fanny, just above your legs, and kept spanking the same spots over and over again, Left cheek, right cheek, left cheek, right cheek, never missing a beat.

“OW …, Stop …’

By the ten minute mark there was a raging fire where the brush kept landing. Aunt Peggy knew how much getting spanked over and over again in the same spots hurts. She also knew that by the next day, most of the pain would be gone and I would be left only with the memory of a good tanning that I didn’t want repeated any time soon. She also knew you would heal quickly, she firmly believed that long spankings were necessary if she was really to get her point across.

Aunt Peggy kept up the spanks for the full thirty minutes she planned on. I cried, yelled, begged and struggled the whole time to no avail. I was trapped and my bottom was getting punished.

She finally stopped and let me calm down a few minutes still over her knee. I knew, from past experience, that the heat would keep rising for a good thirty minutes after the spanks stopped. While the spanking was over, the punishment was not.

I was told to take my place in the corner while she finished dinner. She reminded me that reaching back to rub the heat out of my bottom was not allowed. She told the girls to keep an eye on me to make sure there was no rubbing and reminded me that if I did, she would be happy to give me another trip across her lap right then.

I went to the corner and kept shifting my weight from foot to foot. Why everyone does that after a spanking I don’t know, it never helps. I just couldn’t stand still as the fire kept growing. As much as I wanted to rub away the pain, the threat of another spanking worked. I just stood there and suffered.

After only five or ten minutes I heard Ann say. “Jill, watch this, I am going to have some fun. Mom, Mom, come quick, Dusty is rubbing his bottom; he wants another spanking.”

Aunt Peggy came in a few seconds later and I pleaded, “I didn’t, it hurts a lot, but I haven’t rubbed it. Ann’s lying. I didn’t do it. Please, I don’t want to be spanked again.”

Aunt Peggy looked at Ann and said. “Ann, I often take a peak to see what is going on in here. Now, since you are looking toward the TV, you can’t really know if I was watching or not. I am going to ask you if Dusty rubbed his bottom. If he did, he will get another spanking. If he didn’t, and you say he did, you will get a spanking and I will wash your mouth out with soap after every meal for a week. Think about it. Did Dusty rub his bottom?”

“Ann looked at the floor and said, “No, he didn’t, I made it up.”

My Aunt just walked over to the chair where I had been over her lap and said. “Jill, please turn down the dinner to simmer, it will be a while before we eat. Ann, get over here and drop those pants and underpants and get over my knee. At least I already have my brush handy.”

Ann said, “Mom, it was just a joke, I didn’t mean it. I’m thirteen and don’t want a spanking.”

Aunt Peggy asked me if I thought getting spanked was a joke; I emphatically said it was not.

In a moment Ann was across her Mom’s knee, in exactly the same helpless position I had been in. As the first spank landed I heard her Mom singing quietly, “twinkle, twinkle little star …”

The beginning of Ann’s spanking was just like mine. It stung, but not too bad. Her Mom used that time to lecture her.

“You won’t think getting spanked is so funny in a few minutes As a matter of fact, I bet you won’t find one bit of humor at all in receiving a good bottom warming. What you did was mean. I will not have you kids acting that way. Are you beginning to feel anything yet? Don’t worry. You soon will. Soon you will have nothing to think but the fire in your bottom, I am going to add ten minutes to your spanking over what Dusty got. Think about it! Forty minutes, not thirty, and you have earned every extra minute”

“Mom, please don’t,” was all Ann could say. In a few minutes she sounded just like me. “Ouch, OW …, OW …, Mom, it hurts, OW.”

Soon it became. “OW, It Hurts, Please Stop, OW …OW …Ouch.” Ann’s bottom may have been two years older than mine but it was just as tender and she reacted to her Mom’s attention just like I had.

When her Mom was done, Ann was sent to the other corner with the same warning about rubbing away the pain that I was given.

We were both still crying, Ann harder than I, when dinner was finally ready. As Aunt Peggy and Jill sat down to eat, Ann and I filled our plates and went to the counter to eat. Both of our bottoms were still bare, as they would be for the rest of the day, even when her Dad came home from work. He took everything in stride. Her Dad sat down, filled his plate, and began dinner. He looked at my aunt and said, “It looks like whatever happened has been paid for, was it bad enough that I need to strap them also?” Every muscle in my body went tense until Aunt Peggy said she thought we had learned our lesson and didn’t need the tawse.

Sometimes, if we had really done something bad, my uncle would use an old Scottish tawse after my aunt used her brush. If you don’t know what it is, a tawse is a thick leather strap that has been split on the business end. Actually, I had only had the strap once and Ann was in the same situation. Jill was only nine and hadn’t been introduced to her Dad’s tawse yet. That would come after her tenth birthday.

We were both really afraid of the strap, even more than of her or my mother’s hairbrush. Although another story, here is how the tawse was used.

The rule was one stripe for each year of age until graduation from college. Her Dad didn’t go for distance like her Mom; he went right for intense pain in the rear. When you were to get strapped, you went into the family room and presented your bare bottom bent over the arm of the couch. My uncle would begin his lecture and with no warning bring the strap down hard across both cheeks. The result was instantaneous; you immediately cried out and jumped up with both hands grabbing your bottom in a frantic attempt to rub the sting and burning away. He didn’t care how long you hopped around and rubbed your bottom.

The problem was that once the first stripe landed, you had exactly 150 seconds to be back across the arm of the couch in position for a second stripe. He wouldn’t say a word about getting back in position, but if you were late, after your next stripe he would say, “That was a free one.” It didn’t count. I got the tawse once when I was about ten and a-half and I wound up with sixteen stripes because I couldn’t force myself back into position fast enough. Ann received thirteen when she was eleven. I couldn’t sit comfortably for three or four days.

On your birthday, you received one stripe just to remind you what would happen if you needed a strapping. A single stripe was enough to keep you rubbing the pain away for a good ten to fifteen minutes.

(Now back to this experience).

As was not the case with Mom’s spankings, by morning the only thing that remained was a pink color and a little soreness. You were ready to get on with life. The only lasting effect was the memory of how much the spanking had hurt.

It was Friday, a whole weekend and no school. I was happy walking home planning everything I could do before Monday. When I got home I told my Aunt I was going to call my friend Steve and see if he could play as I was heading for the phone.

“Just a minute Dusty,” Aunt Peggy said. “Yesterday you paid me for lying about what you did to Mrs. Water’s window. Today you will pay her. You are to take my hairbrush over to Mrs. Water’s and ask her to give you a good bare bottom spanking for what you did. I also want you to tell her everything that happened to you yesterday.”

“Aunt Peggy, It’s Not Fair,” I said.

Her answer was, “Fair or not you are going to do it and Jill is going with you so you don’t forget anything.”

When Jill and I got to Mrs. Waters’ house I had a sinking feeling in my stomach. Holding the hairbrush behind my back, I knocked on the door and waited for Mrs. Waters’ to answer.

When she opened the door I looked at the ground and said, “Aunt Peggy told me to ask you to spank my bare bottom for what I did yesterday,” I said, as I handed her the hairbrush.

Mrs. Clark looked surprised and said, “I really wouldn’t mind tanning you good but I think I would feel strange giving someone else’s child a spanking, especially on the bare.” Jill chimed in, “Dusty, you haven’t told her everything Mom told you to.”

I blushed and added, “Yesterday, after I broke your window I ran home and lied about it. Aunt Peggy washed my mouth out with soap and gave me a hand spanking. I had to stand in the corner for about an hour and wait for the hairbrush spanking she promised. When the hour was up I was spanked so bad that I had to stand at the kitchen counter to eat because my bottom was so sore.”

Mrs. Clark just smiled and said again that she would still feel uncomfortable spanking me but was going to call my aunt to see what she thought could be done. After a few minutes she returned and said that after talking to Aunt Peggy, she was not going to give me a spanking although she had told my Aunt that she wished she had been at our house yesterday. Inside I leaped for joy, I had been saved.

Then the really bad news came. “Your aunt and I came to the agreement that I should see you punished, and to tell you the truth I would really like that. Windows cost money. You and I are going right back to your house and you are going to get another blistering from your aunt - and I will enjoy watching every bit of it.”

It was the worst news I could have had. When we got home, my uncle was there along with Ann of course. Right after we got in the door I was sent to fetch the brush and told to be quick about it.

When I returned my aunt was talking with Mrs. Clark and I got in on the end of the conversation “… glad you have time to stay for his entire spanking. At first it may not seem like much, but I am sure that after a while you will see a young boy wanting to be anywhere in the world but over my knee. It just takes a while for my method to have an effect. Since you were the offended party, I will let you pick the length of his punishment. Yesterday I gave him thirty minutes and then had to give Ann forty. I do have general rule to not go over an hour. It seems to work because I don’t ever remember any of the children doing anything again that earned an hour spanking for the same thing a second time.”

Mrs. Clark looked at me, then at Peggy, then back to me. I was petrified at what she would say – my day got worse. “If an hour will keep him from breaking another window and then running away, and if it is ok with you, I would like it to be an hour.”

“Get your pants down and come here,” Aunt Peggy said as she sat down.

Blushing in front of Mrs. Waters, I peeled off my pants, pulled my underpants down, and quickly got over Aunt Peggy’s knee so I would be hidden a little. In no time my legs were pinned between her legs and my free arm pinned to the small of my back. Having been in this position many times, I knew there was no escape.

Slap, Slap, Slap.

Ann didn’t dare sing her little song but her Mom knew the rhythm by heart.

Like all other times I began to squirm after a couple of minutes trying to escape the constant assault on my bottom. I tried hard to keep my composure and not break down and cry in front of Mrs. Waters. After a couple more minutes I started with the “OW …, it hurts, please, not so hard, just let me rest a minute.”

Another couple minutes and it became “OUCH, OW …, OWEE …., Please …”

I heard Mrs. Clark say, “Your method seems to work, John is beginning to object a lot.”

A few minutes later I lost all control “OWEE …, ouch …, please … stop …, It Hurts.” And the tears began to flow.

Aunt Peggy just continued with her hairbrush, adding fire to my bottom. I couldn’t think of anything other than how much it burned.

After what seemed forever, she stopped her constant slapping and asked Mrs. Clark of she thought I was paying for breaking the window.

Mrs. Clark replied. “It looks like he won’t sit for dinner again tonight, his bottom looks absolutely on fire.”

“Oh he won’t sit all right, and he knows it. See, he is still wiggling like he has a fire on his bottom and crying up a bucket.”

I was still over my aunt’s knee when I heard her say, “Well, thirty more minutes and we will be done.”

“No …, It Hurts, I’m already so … Sore, Please no more.”

Slap, Slap, Slap.

Near the end of the second thirty minutes I had struggled as much as I could and was hoarse from screaming and begging Aunt Peggy to stop. My bottom was burning up. I had cried what I thought were all of the tears I had, but of course I was still crying. My aunt just kept up her steady slap, slap, slap as I was stuck across her knee until the full hour was up.

After calming down a little, I was told to take my position in the corner with the normal warning to not to try and rub any of the pain away. Shifting from foot to foot I was on display for as long as Mrs. Clark wanted to watch. She was amazed that I continued to cry as the residual heat built up even after the spanking stopped.

Aunt Peggy and Mrs. Clark stayed in the room, talking and drinking coffee, for at least a couple of hours. All the time my bare, and bright red, bottom was on display. Even my uncle said, ‘Honey, I think you out did yourself today. It’s only about 11 in the morning and I don’t think Dusty will want to sit down by dinner tonight.”

When they were done talking, Aunt Peggy walked Mrs. Clark to the door. Before she left she said, “Dusty, come over here and apologize again to Mrs. Clark before she leaves. She said she thinks you have paid for the window and wants to tell you there are no hard feelings.”

I had to walk over, completely exposed, and apologize. Mrs. Clark accepted my apology. She told me to turn around so she could get one last look and my burning bottom before she left.

As was the custom, once a bottom was bared for a spanking, there would be no pants for the rest of the day.

Since it was so early, before the day was over a couple of my uncle’s friends and three of the women in Aunt Peggy’s card club got a chance to see a well spanked 11 year old bottom.

Aunt Peggy was right; I never broke a window again.

Dusty Cook

dustycook@gmail.com

A Really Good Spanking

This is a true story, besides A Really Good Spanking - it outlines what happens when you don’t think things through and don’t listen to input from others. Patty was Debbie’s Girl friend from college and spent summers at our home in southern Calif. Patty and her husband have remained close friends with us and shared this story while visiting us. Debbie and I found this story such a turn on that we decided to convert our basement into a real functioning Dungeon.

Dusty Cook

By Patty

My husband and I had just bought a house in the late 1980’s. It was a foreclosure; the owner had simply abandoned it, leaving most of the normal personal items such as furniture and household items. We had not looked at all the stuff in any great detail prior to our purchase, it was such a good price, we could deal with almost anything, and decided that anything of value would be a bonus. After a number of pick up loads to the dump, the basement was looking nearly empty, what looked like a wall revealed another room hidden behind.

It was a Saturday, about noon, “Look at this!” Gary called.

I came over to see, “What did you find?” I asked.

“Looks like a prison or a dungeon, complete with bars and a door.” He answered; he pulled away the loose wallboards to find a wall of steel bars across an alcove, making a cell about fifteen feet square. “This is interesting,” he said, checking out an odd piece of homemade equipment in the cell.”

“Any idea what it does?” I asked.

“No, I, don’t.” he answered, his attention elsewhere. He was looking at the door, and then he stepped out and closed it. It made a solid ‘click’! “The door and lock works!” he announced.

I went over to the door, pulled and pushed it, it felt solid. I felt around the lock, it was a key lock; I looked through the bars at my husband, holding a string with a key. “That’s the key for this door, I gather.”

“It is!” He announced a grin on his face.

“OK, very funny, now let me out.” I asked.

“You didn’t say please.”

“Just unlock the door, Gary.” I demanded.

“Oh, look at the time, lunch time! We’ll try this again after lunch, you coming? No I guess you’re not.” and with that he left me locked in the dungeon.

I was so shocked; I didn’t know what to say until he was gone. He left me there about an hour, and I calmed down, realizing that he wouldn’t hurt me, and after all we had played “role playing” games before, including tying up and handcuffing each other. So when he returned, I greeted him with, “Oh, Dungeon Master, I’ve done my time, I’ll be good! Could you please let me out?”

“That is better. Prisoners who know their place will have a much easier time. Now, what are you prepared to do to earn your release?”

“Anything you ask! Master, anything at all,” I assured him.

“Very good, I’m glad to hear it.” He said looking around. He picked up a box and brought it over, putting it in front of the bars. “Put all of you clothes in here.” he said in a matter of fact manner.

“What!” I replied.

“Now, my pretty prisoner, you just finished assuring me that you’d learned your lesson, volunteering to do anything I ask. I would think that a bed upstairs will be a much more comfortable sleep tonight than the concrete floor in here. So, with exceptionally good behavior, you could be out of here by dinner time, to have dinner upstairs, and get to sleep in a bed tonight. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes sir!” I replied, and started undoing my blouse buttons.

“I expect to be entertained.” Gary demanded.

“Yes sir!” I replied, and started, doing the best ‘strip tease’ dance that I could. When I was finished, I pick up all my clothes and put them in the box.

“Very good, Now, ” he picked up the box with all of my clothes, “I want you to figure out what that thing does.” and with that, he left with all of my clothes, leaving the basement door wide open, me in full view of the yard, naked and no place to hide. He put the box in the back of the truck and drove off. (What I did not know at the time, was that he drove around the block and parked in front of the house.)

“Now, how in the hell did you manage to get into this predicament, Patty?” I asked myself, “Naked in a cage, open to anyone who comes by.” I fumed for a while then yelled, “Gary! You let me out of here now!” and as soon as I did, I realized that this might bring some unwanted attention, and decided I’d be best to play along, and besides, maybe I could reverse the situation sometime, and at any rate, first thing is to get out of this cage and get some clothes back. I turned my attention to the contraption also imprisoned with me. It had a power cord and a standard light switch for on and off, I plugged it in and turned it on. It made a hum and slowly lifted a building block that was in a guide. After about five or six minutes, the block suddenly dropped, making a softer bang than I would have expected from such an action, but, not expecting it, I jumped, my heart beat so hard that it hurt. It continued to repeat the action, with no obvious purpose. I turned it off, and looked it over, it had straps for securing some unknown item, and there appeared to have some pieces missing.

Sometime later, Gary returned, “So, my pretty little prisoner, what have you found?”

“I plugged it in, Master, and it works, but seems to be missing some pieces.” I replied, and showed Gary the machine in action.

“Good girl!” he praised, “Would you like out now?”

“Oh! Yes please!” I replied.

“Remember, good girls sleep in beds, bad girls sleep in dungeons.” he instructed as he opened the door.

“Thank you, I need to go pee!” and upstairs I went to take care of that need. Before returning, I looked for my clothes, but it looked like they were in the truck, parked across the street. When I returned, Gary was looking over the device, “Master, I would sure like to have my clothes back please.”

“Bad girls sleep in dungeons.” he repeated in an uninterested tone. “And there is a toilet right here in the cell, did you go looking for your clothes?”

“No, master, this toilet is dirty, I preferred a clean one.”

“Well then,” he paused, not really believing the answer, “then you need to clean this one. Get on it now.” he ordered, and disappeared for a few minutes, returning with what looked like a large aluminum spatula, about three feet long. In a few minutes, Gary attached the blade end to a plate on the machine, plugged it in, and turned it on. We watched for about five minutes, and this time, when the block dropped, it caused the three foot extension to suddenly swing on an arc of about sixty degrees. He watched it for a few cycles, looking it over very carefully. “It’s a ‘spanking machine’ he announced.

“A-what” I replied.

“A spanking machine.” he repeated. “Those straps down there are for the person’s ankles, holding the feet about three feet apart, and those go around the thighs. That little thing down there varies the angle slightly. It would spank the person’s ass indefinitely until it was turned off. You like being spanked, want to try?” Gary asked.

“No thank you.” I told him, “It’s the experience of being spanked by you that excites and scares me.”
“Fine, but you do always tell me after that I should hit harder and longer.” He then turned it on again, this time holding his hand where the victim’s bottom would be. It made a nice smack, “YEOW!” He yelped, “SHIT! That thing really works!”

I felt myself getting aroused at the thought of being helplessly secured and that machine spanking my ass every five minutes until someone else decided to stop it. I pondered that for a minute then decided that maybe the fantasy might be better than actually doing it. The machine was close to ready for the next swing, “Master, are you going to try again?”

“Shit no! That really hurt, but if want to strap yourself in after, I will! Here, come get a sample like I did.”
I thought for a few minutes, and then blurted out, “Master, if I can have my clothes back now and that completes my time, then next Saturday, I will buckle myself into that thing for at one full hour. But I want to be locked in here, and I have the key.”

“If you wish, I’ll be right back with your clothes.” and off he went, returning in about a minute. “If you take your clothes now, then it’s a deal, Right!”

“I want to see you hold your hand there again, twice!” I countered.

“How about us once each, then you’ll know what you’re getting into?” he countered.

“No, I don’t what to know, but if you go twice, then I know that I can take it.”

“You’ll be secured so that once started; it goes for an hour, no backing down.”

“Ok” I agreed.

“You’ll be naked, and it’ll be on a timer, so that I won’t be able to stop it early, no matter what.”

“In fact, once it is all set up, I want you to leave, and just leave me to my fantasy predicament.” I said as I finished dressing, fulfilling my today’s end of the deal.

“You can record it with the video camera and watch it later, OK?” I added, sensing some doubt that I would follow through.

“OK.” He started it again, holding his hand for its punishment. “Shit!” he exclaimed. He switched hands for the next swing.

“Same hand.”

“We didn’t say that.”

“We said ‘hand’, not ‘hands’ ” I countered.

Gary winced, considered, and then put his right hand back for his third time “YEOW! Shit that hurts!” he exclaimed, “I think you’re going to be really sorry about that deal!”

“Well, maybe, but for now, it got me out of the other predicament that I found myself in.”

Preparation

I was actually finding myself getting excited about my fantasy. The planned experience will be as close to my fantasy as I think possible. My fantasy was that I am tied spread eagle, naked in a prison, and that I have committed some offence, and am sentenced to a ‘spanking’ by a big burly guard. This guard loves this task and holds nothing back; other prisoners have been unable to sit for a week. I have tried to get Gary to provide this experience, but he just can’t do that to me. He asks why I would want to do this, and I compared it to him going on one of those super high vertical drop, loop to loop roller coasters, he went once, won’t go again because it scared him real bad, but he always wanted to do it, and he’s glad he did. He tried to get me to take a hand hit, just so that I know how hard it is and how much it hurts, I have assured him that I will survive it, and, not knowing will be a big part of the thrill, and I have several weeks of holiday time, which we were going to use to get the house ready to move into, it won’t matter if I can’t sit for a while.

In preparing for this, I needed to arrange it so that, the whole process would be an automatic start after a time, run for a period of one to two hours, and then stop. Once started, that there could be no possible turning back, no matter what. Gary liked the idea of videotaping it, because he didn’t think he could watch it live, or even be there because he would just have to stop it so that I wouldn’t hurt myself. I came up with the following.

1) It would be set up in the dungeon, the door closed and locked, with the key inside, but out of my reach during the spanking.

2) There would be a delay start of about one hour. This will be arranged with a small teeter totter, with a pail on one end and a small drip from a hanging bucket. After about an hour or so the pail will be heavy enough to drop down, the other end flipping the switch on. It is set up and tested so that once this happens, the whole thing tips over and it cannot turn it off again.

3) The straps on the machine will hold my legs spread wide and secure, eye bolts in the ceiling above will guide tie straps to hold my arms up and above. The wrist cuffs are the ones Gary modified some time ago and have been used and tested. They have two ties each and a hold bar to hang on to, too relieve the pull on the wrists so that they can be pulled quite tight without cutting off circulation.

4) The release timer is a piece of six inch heavy duty plastic pipe that I found in the yard, which is bolted to the wall on one side. I cut a slit about a foot long and about ¼ inch wide. A loop of cargo strap will go through the slot with a one liter water bottle of ice as a link. This takes about three to four hours to melt, letting the strap pull through releasing me from my bindings. Having been tested, the strap will pull through even if twisted, and care will be taken not to twist it. The ice block was chosen because the ice will melt, and thus, is fail safe. The slot has been filed and sanded smooth so that there is no possibility of snagging.

5) There will be only one key for the dungeon. The spares will be kept at the apartment that we are still living at, about a forty-five minute drive away. This is to prevent Gary from rescuing me. Gary has decided, and I agree, that once it is all set up and the dungeon locked, that he will leave me to my fantasy experience.

6) During the set up, up while we are in the dungeon, until the dungeon door is locked, if I utter the phrase (safe word) “Love Bug”, we will stop. No matter what, or where we are. Once the door is closed and locked, Gary is to ignore me and anything I say. This is clear cut. Gary will leave the house before the machine starts and not return until I phone, probably Monday evening.

Both timers were tested and retested. It was Saturday morning. I am both terrified and excited. Gary has tried again to get me to test it once with my hand, or just once in the position before committing myself. We recorded this on video, so that there was no misunderstanding later. This is entirely my idea, I have set it all up, and Gary is simply following my instructions and intentions. After that, he set the camera up facing the dungeon, connected up to two VCR’s each with an eight hour tape, one running, and the second to start in eight hours; Gary wanted to know how I was both during and after the event.

Saturday morning, Gary laid out everything; the ice block had been cut from the water bottle and loop of strapping in place. The arm straps were routed as I planned; allowing plenty of line for me to be able to pull the wrist buckles together to undo them when the ice melted to releases the line. Gary then insisted that I set up of everything; to be sure it was exactly as I wanted it to be. The start timer water was dripping; it will take about two hours to start the machine. The ice block release in place, it will last three to four hours. I have double and triple checked everything. At 10:00 AM, I have showered, final trip to the bathroom, dressed only in a towel. I come out of the bedroom; Gary is dressed as a guard. He handcuffs my hands behind my back, takes my arm, and escorts me to the basement. Instead of going down the stairs, he takes me out the front door, closing and locking the door behind us. The front yard is not private, my heart is pounding, and the guard senses me holding back and warns me that the privacy towel will be removed should I offer any trouble. I go along without further resistance. He walks me out, deep into the back yard and stops in the middle of the grass where there are lawn chairs and a table with a coffee thermos, a couple of bran muffins, my favorite, as well as some butter and jam. He sits down, and takes about half an hour enjoying his breakfast. I just stand there, feeling uneasy, also wondering when he managed to set this up. When he was done, he took me to the basement. And I am lead into the dungeon and to the machine, I note everything, the whole set up, the restraints that have been checked, the key is hanging on the back wall. I stand in place, the guard first does up the ankle straps, and my heart is really starting to pound now, then the thigh straps, and finally the wrist straps. The wrist line, a cargo strap and buckle are tightened. Now I am really starting to get scared! He then removes my towel. He takes this opportunity tease my helpless body, he tickles me hard and rough, I beg him to stop, he responds by attacking more and rougher still. I was not prepared for this, but to stop this, is to stop all of it. He works my ribs and underarms, I am very sensitive there, and simply cannot stand even light tickling. He is rough and merciless, but no matter what, I am determined to go through with it all. He reaches between my legs, already wet, and brings me to the brink of climax, then leaves me hanging there, I am in agony and in need, but I can’t climax. He pinches my nipples hard, and I cry out, despite my best efforts not to. After some time, he stops. He checks the bindings, runs his hands down my naked spread eagle body, checking the bindings, tickles me a bit more between my legs. He stops.

Gary then steps out of character, “Look around, last chance. Look, it’s really going to hurt. I mean, it’s going to really, really hurt.” He picks up the towel, “I am taking the towel and your clothes with me.”H paused again, waiting for a response.

“You aren’t supposed to do that.”

“I can do anything I want, Bitch!” He say’s returning to character, and then he pulls the wrist lines even tighter.

“That’s too tight!” I protest.

“There is a magic phrase that will end this and gain your immediate release. There is no other option.” he reminds me, dropping the towel, and pinches my nipples hard again, “Just say the magic word, all will stop!”
“No! Just go away, asshole!” I insist.

“Do not tell me what to do!” he reprimands, and goes at me again with another twenty minute or so rough tickling. With the lines tightened even more, I cannot move at all, it takes all my will power not to scream for him to stop. After he is done, he looks at the pail slowly filling, “About forty-five minutes now, I would think.” he picks up the towel goes to the doorway, and with the door just about closed, “Last chance.” he offers sweetly, with no response, he closes it with a hard click, and goes up the stairs. A few minutes later, I hear the truck being started and leaving.

I faced the camera, “Ok, Gary, this is it!” I said for the benefit of the video. I tugged at the restraints, not to try to break them, as I knew, that as an absolute fact that I was not going to move until the ice block melted. It helps to raise the adrenaline and fear, absolute terror even of the certainty of the following events. I knew that in about thirty minutes, I was going to be spanked, spanked very hard. That after each time, I would so desperately want it stopped, that I would be willing to do anything to make it stop. It would be so much more intense than anything else I had ever experienced. How hard would it be? How painful would it be? As these fears dwelled on my mind over time, the fear and adrenaline rush were overtaking me. It was that rush that I sought, and the willingness to do almost anything for it. Even getting a severe spanking! As the fear and adrenaline rush to well beyond anything that I had experienced, I looked around the room. My fate is locked. I will be spanked, I was terrified, but it would be only for one to two hours. I continued to gaze around, and it was then I saw it. And suddenly I was even more terrified. A dread of extreme proportions! I started to cry uncontrollably. If my bladder was not completely empty, I would have peed myself. I realized, that I had made a critical error, the knot around the block of ice was on the inside of the slit, instead of the outside! The strap would not release when the ice melted, and I would not be able to free myself. Gary wasn’t going to worry about me until Monday afternoon, at least! At that point, the teeter totter had lifted to the switch, “No! No! Please stop, Oh my god!” I tried shaking the whole thing, but of course nothing changed. About a minute later, the switch turned on, the whole teeter totter thing fell over, just like it was supposed to, preventing even the slightest possibility of it switching off again. My heart was pounding harder and more intense that I thought possible. I was certain at this point, that this was going to kill me, to take two terribly excruciating days to do it. I was crying uncontrollably.

The door bell rang, “Anybody home?” I heard. A different panic set in.

I remained silent, I could have called for help, perhaps get myself out of this situation, embarrassing as it would have been, I pondered for a moment or two, the door bell rang again, this time I hoarsely called out, “Help! Help me in the basement! Please help!”

No one came; the machine completed its first cycle with a Whack! It took my breath away, it was a sting excruciatingly intense, and I had never felt anything so severe in my life! Not even the time that I had broken my leg, was it so severe and that was once, this was going to be repeated again. It took maybe a minute or two just to recover my breath, and then I was able to start crying again! The noise of the machine was even more unnerving now, because now I really knew what to expect. With absolute terror, I awaited the next whack, and it was even more a shock and painful as the first! Each time, the fear level and pain increased! I lost the energy to cry! I would have thought that shock would set in, or that I would faint, but such was not my fate. Hour after hour, the machine cycled! It didn’t care. Each whack was excruciating, and my hopes to just die now, as I thought would happen in the end didn’t materialize. I had cried so much that I don’t think that I could yell for help if I thought someone was near enough to hear. Gary had turned off the lights when he left, so at about 5:30, the sun was now shining in through the west window by the driveway, my only sense of the time, the machine had just dropped the block as it had done about fifty times now, but this time the block shattered! I don’t think that I was so excited about something ever in my life. The machine continued its cycling, but there was only noise! I would live! I was, however, still bound very tight, spread eagle, this, however, seemed to be a trivial problem compared to what I was just experiencing.

Sunday morning, about 10:00 AM, Gary came back, and down to the basement, finding me exactly as he left me, “What the hell happened?” He asked.

“The release didn’t work; the machine went all day before breaking!”

“Holy Shit!” he exclaimed, as he put down the package that he was carrying, “Are you ok?”

“No I’m not fucking ok! How the hell do you think I am after being spanked for hours, left here like this for a whole day! I’m dying of thirst, I’ve had cramps in my arms and legs just get me out of here, now!”

“I didn’t know that I’d need the key,” he paused, “but,”

“Just get me some water!” I interrupted.

About five minutes later, he came back with a water bottle and a piece of hose for an extension, “Here,” he said, holding the hose through the bars feeding me the water, spilling much of it, but giving me much needed hydration. He pulled it back, and then popped out one of the video tapes, replacing it with another. He pulled the hose off one bottle and onto another and repeats. “I’ll have to go home for the key.” he said, “I’ll take,”

“Never mind that” I interrupt, if you tape a utility knife to a stick, you can cut the straps holding my wrists, and I can get undone!”

“Ok, that’ll work,” he said, and disappeared for a few minutes, returning with a knife taped to a broom handle. It took only a moment to cut through the strapping, and my arms were free and very stiff, but free.

“OK, I’ll go back and get the key,”

“No! Just go! I’ll need some time; I don’t want to see anyone for a few days, Got it!” I declared.

“But,” he tried to put in.

“No buts, there isn’t any possible reason for you to see me until at least tomorrow just like the original plan.”

“But,” he tried to put in again.

“Thank you for rescuing me now, but please don’t come back until Monday afternoon, you can bring me a nice dinner then, ok?”

“Yes, but,” he tried to put in yet again.

“Please do as I have asked, this here was not your fault, I have only myself to blame, and now I need some alone time, everything I need is here. No problem could be as big as the one I just went though. I’m very sore and very tired, now just go, and don’t bring anything except a nice take out dinner for us tomorrow night. Please do it as I have asked. Thank you.” My arms were still stiff, but I was now able to work the leg straps.

Gary could see that I was able to undo the straps myself; I could tell that he wanted say something more. “Fine, tomorrow night, dinner” and with that he left.

“Bye.” I said, “I learned my lesson, I will listen to you when you have something to say. This was one lesson I won’t soon forget.” I undid the straps, almost falling to the floor, it sure felt good to move again, my bottom, however, was really, really sore, I certainly wouldn’t be sitting for a while. I hobbled over to get the key, and back to the door and freedom. I pushed the key into the lock. It took a couple of tries as the lock faced out. Anticipating freedom, I tried turning the key. It wouldn’t turn! I tried again and again, pushing in harder, pulling out a bit, it was the wrong key!

“Gary! You asshole” I screamed. I then noticed the box that Gary had put down in front of the bars. I reached for it, opening it, seeing a piece of paper and some sandwiches, fruit and raw carrots. The note was in Gary’s writing:

Dear Patty,

I hope the experience was what you wanted, although, I’m certain that you got more than you bargained for. You have no doubt discovered by now that the key doesn’t work. It is a lesson in being thorough. It is also a lesson on listening to my input, as I’m sure that your sore bottom is wishing you had. My hand was stinging two days later; I can’t imagine what an hour or two would have been like. Our original agreement was for me to return not before Monday evening. I will be back tonight with dinner, with the correct key. I will expect an offer of favor for your early release. If you prefer, Monday night, without strings attached – and enjoy another night in the dungeon.

Love, Gary

“Asshole” I shouted. But this was really just returning a prank or two that I had played, so, I’d have to think of something.

Later, early Sunday evening, Gary did return, changed tapes again “Hungry?”

“Yes Master.”

“What is your offer?”

“I’ll be your servant in the house here for the next week.”

“Slave, for the next three weeks.” He countered.

“Slave” I asked.

“You know, slave, we have played this game before, absolute slave, but just here.”

“Ok, slave but not to spend any more time in here.”

“Slave, absolute slave, and good slaves get to sleep in a bed, and do chores around the house and in the yard. Bad slaves sleep in the dungeon, or get spanked.”

I shuddered at the ‘spanked’, “ok, slave for a week.”

“Absolute slave, for three weeks”

“Absolute slave, for two weeks” I countered. This wasn’t really a penalty; it was a game that we have played before.

“Agreed,” Gary said as he opened the door. “Now, go get the breakfast stuff that I left out in the backyard.
“Yes, Master, could I get my clothes on first?”

“If the slave mentions clothes again, she will be very sorry.”

“Yes, Master.” I said, and once again, I found myself in a predicament caused by not being thorough.

I spent the next two weeks, naked, much of the time in the backyard. The backyard was mostly private, except that access from the front was unrestricted, anyone could walk in, unannounced. Several times, Gary would leave, leaving me locked outside, with instructions to cut the grass, I really did not like that one. Gary insisted on sexual activities at least once a day, often several times, sometimes outside, even during the day. Once in the front yard at three in the morning, then he left me there, saying he’d be right back. He locked the doors and went to bed.

By the end of the two weeks, though, I had a really good all over tan. We later worked on securing the backyard so that we could have total privacy.

When my “Time” was up, I asked for my clothes back, Gary said that wasn’t part of the agreement, but he’d try to remember next trip to the apartment. Funny how one wasn’t needed for several days and I was convinced that I wouldn’t get my clothes back when he did return, so I came up with a plan.

I took a box of some of his childhood things, including photos, and put them in the dungeon, as well as some other boxes. I had taken the key, which Gary had left in the door. I didn’t mention my clothes when he returned, and neither had he. When down in the basement, I went into the dungeon, key in hand, in case he decided to do anything, and called to Gary to see, “Look at this stuff.”

“What stuff?”

“Some of your old photos” I answered, “Come see.” Sure enough, in he came, and fell for the bait. Once he was looking through them, I slipped out and closed the door, making a solid bang for effect. He turned to look in horror, “Now, please tell me where my clothes are, dear.” I asked him.

“Oh, I forgot them at the apartment.” he said causally.

“Well, that’s ok, I didn’t mind being naked for seventeen days.” I say sarcastically, “I think you’ll agree that I was a really good sport about it. Now, take off all of your clothes and put them in this box.” I said, “I’d like to see how they fit me for the next week or two.”

The End

Ask me anything, Poly life style, B&D, slavery/ dom/sub http://formspring.me/Dustycook54

Little Confused

confused dot com

I’m a little confused right now … in my head.
Yeah, yeah, I know - that’s *where* the confusion actually is (sarcasm really is the lowest form of wit).

What I mean is i cannot quite get my head around why I have conflicting thoughts and feelings.

Background

Master has a leather paddle.. Today a short leather whip arrived ready for Christmas.
I have not actually felt either on my skin yet - from him.

Confusion

1. On one hand I really really do NOT want to feel him wield them - They will hurt. Badly. Either one in my Masters hand would easily bring me to tears.  I am no pain slut who willingly wants to feel someone intentionally hurt her that badly.
2. On the other hand… I do.  I want to feel him strap me with both.

 I want to feel what it would feel like for him to discipline me with that paddle - at least once.
To bring me to tears with it, then push a little further till I beg for him to stop, and then push further till any resistance in me has gone. 
I want to feel the burn, the hot stinging burn on my ass from them, and feel him take my ass roughly afterwards while it is sensitive.
I want to know what it feels like to gingerly sit down in the following hours or days because of that.
I want to feel that leather whip hit my lips down there, feel them burn.
I want to feel it mark my breasts.

So what the hell is going on?

How can I want something so badly when I know damn well it will hurt worse than anything I have ever felt in my life?

Why on earth do I willingly want him to break me like that? To show me exactly how well he could hurt me with them? How easily he could bring me to tears?

Why do I want him to push me past those tears till I stop begging? To show me how it would feel to be disciplined? To give me that fear of displeasing him?

Right now, I am one confused little bunny.
I cannot get my head around it.
Suggestions and explanations welcome on a postcard please…

Is there anyone out there that has felt exactly this? Anyone who has wanted their Master to physically hurt them til the will to beg has left them?

Where the hell is my head at?

kajiradreams | October 29, 2010 at 12:46 am | Tags: bdsm, discipline, emotion, gor, Gorean, kajira, Leather, Master, questions, Real-Time, spanking, submission, submissive | Categories: Explorations, Gorean, Journal, bdsm | URL: http://wp.me/psaN8-eO

Basic Slave Rules

1. I will serve, obey and please my Master.

2. Above all else, my primary focus shall be to please my Master, hoping that He finds me pleasing in all that I do, whether I am in His presence or not. My Master knows of my potential, learning more about me in each day I am with Him. He trusts that I will act in accordance with what He perceives of my potential – He knows what is best for me and how important it is that I set a good example for other females who may be present around me.

3. I worship my Master.

4. I worship my Master’s body.

5. The power of my Master fills me with awe. Just the sheer thought of Him or the hearing of His voice gives me strength.

6. To receive pleasure I must earn it.

7. I worship my Master’s whip.

8. I trust my Master: His responsibilities, His skills, His hunger and needs, and His concern for my safety, my emotional, psychological, social, sexual, and physical health.

9. I am my Master’s love toy, which Master will use to draw out His pleasures.

10. I will ask my Master for permission to satisfy whatever needs I may have before acting on it.

11. My body and mind are the property of my Master.

12. I must always give thanks to my Master for all I am given immediately after receiving what He has given me, for such things are gifts or privileges granted to me by Him.

13. I must be both specific and explicit in my speech.

14. I will not hesitate when responding to my Master. My focus is important to my growth.

15. I will thank my Master for the discipline and punishments I receive, specifying what I received and expressing the reason as to why I was given them.

16. I have no will of my own other than that which falls within the context of the rules I have selected and of that which is needed to pursue the ambitions I am allowed to seek out as according to the permissions I have received from my Master. I will report to Him my progress in such matters to receive His favors or His guidance in making whatever steps may be required to move ahead so that I am successful.

17. I am always in submission to my Master whether He is present or not, ready to please Him at anytime, in any place, under any circumstances, regardless of who may be present. For the opportunity to submit and to please is by far more important and satisfying than any other pursuit. I trust my Master will keep me safe, protecting His reputation and mine in the presence of others, as He examines my ability to present myself to Him and to others in a subtle manner when required to protect our lifestyle from those who may not understand, nor support, as long as our behavior is not in any way misrepresented nor misinterpreted by those who may be afar. Within the lifestyle, I am to set, once again, a good example, ready to explain my position to others when required to do so. My lifestyle is a part of a growing culture for which I must never forget that I am an integral part.

18. All my choices shall be based upon whether or not they will please my Master.

19. When I am not in the presence of my Master and I have choices to make – I will perform them to the best of my abilities and within the boundaries and guidance, He has allowed me.

20. I shall wear the collar my Master gives me with pride for it signifies His ownership of me and my devotion to Him.

21. I shall wear the chains my Master gives me as a symbol of my position in life – that of bondage to Him. I shall wear them, as required, around my neck, my wrists, and my ankles or around my waist.

22. When He is ready – I shall wear His ring to signify my submission to Him

23. When the cock of my Master is put into my mouth and I am directed to please Him - I will do so vigorously as long as I am required to do so. I will use my whole body to display my hunger to my Master.

24. My Master’s seed must never go to waste – I will swallow all of it when Master releases into my mouth (and be punished should I spill any of it from my lips); licking it up if Master releases into my hands. I will clean His cock thoroughly squeezing out every last drop. In rare and privileged cases, I may wear my Master’s seed on my body, sometimes after massaging it into my skin. Seed is a gift from my Master and it is an honor to receive it.

25. I worship my Master’s cock, its head and its shaft, especially when it is hard or when I am given the opportunity to make it hard for Him.

26. PUNISHMENT ONLY: I will never look into the eyes of my Master without his permission. To do so would be inappropriate of my position, and doing so could be interpreted by Him that I am seeking His attention or expecting Him to act – when such things are up to Him and to Him alone.

27. PUNISHMENT ONLY: My head must be bowed down in the presence of my Master unless I am given permission to do so otherwise. I honor the position of my Master and it is important that I am not distracted in my submission to Him.

28. PUNISHMENT ONLY: My eyes must be cast down in the presence of my Master unless I am given permission to do so otherwise. I am to focus on my behavior, waiting to act appropriately and without hesitation when directed to do so by Him.

29. I must always wear revealing and sexy clothing of good taste around my Master unless given permission to do so otherwise. The clothing I wear will allow easy access to my cove, ass and breasts. The clothing will emphasize and often exaggerate my assets. I will wear such clothing in any kind of weather. How I present my body to Him or in front of others is more important than my discomfort and insecurities.

30. When other women show an interest in what I am wearing I must ask them if they would like to see more and then gladly show them what they would like to see – but only after I have received permission from my Master and in his presence- for I trust my Master’s judgment that such a display is not only reasonable but is safe to do.

31. I must remove all of my clothing in the way I have been taught when Master commands of me to do so – regardless of who may be present and despite where it is I am – I trust my Master.

32. When I remove clothing from my body it must be folded neatly and placed in a small pile in front of me just ahead of my feet or my knees if I should be required to be in my kneeling position after unclothing myself.

33. My basic attire in the presence of my Master shall consist of a collar and my highest heels. The rings of my submission, if I have been pierced, must also be attached to my body, as should the chains He has given or allowed me to wear.

34. My legs, underarms and cove must be kept completely shaved smooth and clean so that nothing of me is hidden from view.

35. Whenever I need to pick something up or receive something from my Master, I must do so wherever possible by going into a kneeling position to show that I am honored to do so. I will perform this motion according to how Master has taught me.

36. My cove and ass must be thoroughly washed and of a good aroma at all times, even perfumed, but especially before serving my Master.

37. My “place” is on my knees before my Master, for it is a privilege and honor to be His slave.

38. When in the presence of my Master, but not in use, I will sit at His feet or side until I am needed by Him.

39. My greatest felt satisfaction is realized when I know I have pleased my Master.

40. There can be no greater pain or suffering I can feel than when Master is not pleased with me. Naturally, I will feel depressed, saddened, empty, and lost. I can only hope He will show His mercy upon me and provide to me the guidance I will need to be put back on track so that I will be forgiven and once again be allowed His eyes upon my flesh, His touch upon my soul, and His warmth and love upon my heart.

41. My submission is a natural inborn feeling, and at times a surging and powerful force inside me that only a respectable and knowledgeable Master can recognize, control and manage, for a He understands how my nature influences my behavior and how temptations to act outside of its drive can easily lead me astray and away from my primary focus: to please and to be found pleasing. He, too, manages and controls His Own natural state, sharing with me through a power exchange between us, bonding me tightly to Him, His needs with mine. My submission to such a Master allows for me to feel more aware and alive inside and out, bringing me to a feeling I cherish: “at home.”

42. I fear no other power for my Master is always with me.

43. I will not hesitate in my obedience to my Master.

44. Whenever Master speaks, even when I am speaking, I am to immediately become silent so I may be able to listen intensely to what He has to say. I must never interrupt Him unless He has shown me how to communicate with Him, if I need to. I must ask first for His permission to speak, specifying to whom I would like to speak to, and whether or not I may be allowed to speak freely – then and only then, if granted, I may speak.

45. The opportunity to please my Master is very important to me and I will take every chance to seek out such opportunities to do so to the best of my abilities and in accordance to how I have been taught or allowed to do so.

46. I choose willingly to be treated as my Master’s property – as long as such treatment is safe and legal.

47. When Master feels I am ready and our relationship has progressed to a lifelong commitment, I shall be specially prepared to receive His unique and permanent mark of ownership upon my flesh, in a place of His choosing, whether it is a piercing, a tattoo or a branding. Thereafter, I shall become His property and slave in the strictest sense – completely His.

48. I am my Master’s greatest treasure.

49. I will learn all the positions my Master wants to teach me to the best of my abilities and will be prepared to take such positions when required and to display myself in a manner through them that He, and others who may be present, will find most pleasing.

50. The safe word given to me by my Master can be spoken at any time – even when I have been told to be silent. If I am not able to verbalize it – I trust my Master will show me how I can express it. Safe words are for my protection as well as His. I must be careful not to take more than I can handle, as He will need to know when to stop from getting carried away with His own passions – so that I may be prepared over time to endure more for Him.

51. My safe word, verbal or otherwise, cannot be used when I am being punished. I must remember that punishment could never be very effective if I were able to control it – I must take it in full measure – so that I will focus on the correction of my behavior for the long term, for unlike discipline, punishment is not what I will want again. I should know better

52. I must confess to my Master when I have been naughty so that He may decide if such violations require me to be disciplined or to be punished. I must accept whatever decisions He makes by thanking Him for His choice – if He allows it before or shortly thereafter, specifying as to why I will be or have been disciplined or punished. I must focus upon how sorry I am for not behaving in the way in which I have been taught - for I have brought defilement upon myself and to Him an unacceptable act which is displeasing to Him.

53. I must never be concerned when I feel too much of my flesh is showing, in private or in the general public - however, I can ask my Master for permission as to how to handle my discomfort.

54. I am a female slave – of worth and value to any Master who would find me useful. My role has been clearly brought into definition through my ability to recognize and to act accordingly with my true nature, enhanced through the teachings of my Master, and through the continued practice of my primary focus, and my search for every opportunity to do so.

55. My Master will decide what my sexual orientation shall be. I will commit myself to His decision and perform as such only in His presence and only with His permission. I know my performance will be measured and corrected as He sees fit should I be required to attend to, provide myself to, and perform with upon another female slave.

56. Pain and pleasure shall be with me always – in my thoughts and my fantasies – for the contrast strengthens me to behave in the manner my Master expects of me. Such thoughts and fantasies are tainted with the memories I have from the last time I was in the presence of my Master. He is with me always.

57. My limits do not have to be respected – I trust my Master to take me past them when He expects that I am ready – for each side of the wall of my limitations is both pleasurable and a challenge – one side more intense than the other. My only hope in such transferences is that Master will be able to take me there again and again as my relationship to Him progresses through time that He too will need it as much as I will, and that He will not be afraid to increase the intensity while we are there.

58. I have much to learn in order to become a well-trained and well-behaved slave.

59. I will endure whatever discipline or punishment my Master gives me so I can become a better slave for Him.

60. I will work on building up my tolerances to the level my Master needs me to have, being careful not to push myself further or faster than I am ready to endure for Him, so that I may be able to expand my limitations and increase my value to Him.

61. Through discipline and punishment, I shall learn to behave.

62. In bondage, I am made free.

63. Only through submission can I find my true self.

64. My life is empty without a Master to please – that lost feeling inside can be real and it can grow. I may be able to step away from the hunger of my nature, but not for long, for soon it could affect every part of my life

65. I shall never think of myself as a weak person for it takes a strong female to commit to the drive inside me, to serve, to obey and to please a Master. I too have responsibilities and as natural as they may seem to me it is important that I use all of my faculties including my creative spirit to submit to a Master in a unique fashion personal to my relationship with Him. By doing so I hope to provide a good example to those females around me who may still be learning so they too are not led astray from their primary focus, that they are as true to their nature as I strive to continue to be to mine. I must remember that how I well I behave enlightens and empowers me to become even closer to whom I am – a devoted slave, of good rapport to a Master who truly understands my needs in relationship to His own.

66. I will give all that I am to my Master in order to become free.

67. I must never show disrespect towards my Master in any way – no matter where I am – in his presence or not.

68. Crying and the shedding of tears at any time is good and expected for it softens my will and bonds me closer to my Master.

69. Only in complete submission to my Master shall I realize the depth of the love I have for Him.

70. The needs of my Master must always come first before mine own for they offer an opportunity to please Him.

71. I must be attentive to the needs of my Master and always be ready to respond to them to the best of my abilities and in the unique ways in which I have chosen and have developed for Him.

72. I am allowed to suggest ways to further my training or use of me, verbally or through my journal, as long as I address my Master properly first.

73. I must always respond fully both physically and verbally to whatever my Master does with me. The expressions of my emotions and my physical responses are important to Him. I must never hold back any part of their display, regardless of how intense they may be, unless restricted to do so.

74. I am a sexual and sensual being.

75. I must always remember how pleased my Master is when others delight in my sexiness as a result of my ability to show off my assets.

76. The only clothing I will buy and wear will be those items, which my Master would find pleasing to Him: fitting to my figure and its assets, of good quality, of reasonable cost, and appropriate in His eyes and taste for the occasions I am allowed to attend with or without Him. I may ask if I may choose what to wear so I may be able take an opportunity to surprise Him to win His favor.

77. I may, at times, offer various parts of my body to my Master in hopes He will take pleasure in using them in whatever ways He wishes. My only hope will be that my offering will please Him. If not, I want Him to punish me.

78. It is important for me to be of a healthy and sound mind and body, free as possible of any personal limitations, when pleasing my Master.

79. If I am required to be my Master’s toilet, into or onto which He chooses to release the watery juices of His cock, I shall position myself to receive His personal waters by kneeling for Him, tilting my head back, opening my mouth wide, and closing my eyes so that He will delight in the display and offering of my body and of one of my orifices for Him to choose upon which one to use. I shall remain still as He releases Himself, swallowing what I can of the waters He allows me. I shall play with myself during the release, as is instructed by Him, so that I am permitted to sexualize the experience as much as possible for His pleasure, thanking Him afterwards for allowing me the opportunity to honor Him in this most private way.

80. I will not wear a pad or tampon when I am on my period without His permission whilst in His presence – my cove must be available for His use at all times. Should I be allowed to use a pad or tampon – it must be removed in His presence should He require my vagina to be emptied – regardless of where I am and who may be present. The use of a pad or tampon is a privilege that can be taken away from me at any time.

81. If Master has chosen my sexual orientation to that of being bisexual, and He requires of me to receive the watery juices of a chosen female slave’s cove, I am to position myself, as I would for Master, to receive upon my flesh or into my mouth the slave’s juices, and if permitted to do so, either through His command or after receiving permission from Him to display for Him my hunger, I will cup my mouth tightly to the slave’s cove to feed from her, licking and sucking, if allowed to do so, as much as I can get from her remaining tightly cupped to her until Master allows me to release myself from her. Thereafter, I am to be thankful for what I have received and for the privilege He allowed me.

82. If it is possible to practice my basic attire in my household, I will do so. I will remove my clothing immediately after entering my household putting my collar on first, then my ring and chains (if I have them), and my highest heels.

83. I will always sleep nude – kneeling first before I enter my bed and kneeling first as soon as I get out of my bed – for it is a great privilege to have a bed to sleep on.

84. I must never tighten my body when it is being whipped, caned, cropped, slapped, paddled, belted, strapped, spanked, bullwhipped, signal whipped, or anally or vaginally pumped. My Master likes it when my flesh jiggles and He knows that when I tighten my body it hurts more and inhibits my ability to display my expressions and emotions.

85. I am proud to wear upon my body the marks given to me by my Master. I know that my Master will never mark me permanently – other than the mark of His ownership He will give me at the proper time, but I will gladly suffer for Him so he can mark me with the stripes he wishes to decorate my body with for His viewing pleasure.

86. I will always listen with a strong interest in whatever my Master has to say during my training. I want to learn all that I can from Him so I can understand more about Him

87. When I take a shower I can do so the way I like to, but when I have finished washing I must rinse my entire body with only cold water for not less than 1 full minute. I am not to try to cover my body with my arms and hands thereafter. I may use a towel to dry off, but in my Master’s house – only His whip shall be used to dry me.

88. I must conduct myself at all times with confidence and pride hoping other females around me will feel my projection upon them, that my performance is found admirable, that they would seek to emulate me without any of their insecurities or self-conscious thoughts holding them back. I want to set the best example of proper female behavior – especially if Master or someone He has chosen is nearby to examine and monitor it. However, my goal must be to behave as naturally and freely as is possible as if without any effort on my part.

89. The plug Master has provided me must be inserted deeply into my ass any time my Master’s directs. Failure to do so and I shall feel the punishment He will give upon my ass – for the plug was intended to provide me pleasure and prepare me for his use.

90. I hope Master will choose to use my tongue as His towel after His shower so I may be able to worship His body.

91. Until Master has chosen it is time for me to wear a more permanent mark of ownership upon my flesh, I shall proudly wear His temporary mark of ownership upon me wherever He chooses to place it.

92. I will not speak to others within the lifestyle without my Master’s permission except to say to them that they will have to speak to my Master first.

93. I shall learn to endure the whippings Master gives me by using the technique of saying ‘YES‘ through each of His strike brought down upon my flesh.

94. Privacy is a privilege – even to have it when I need to use the bathroom. I must ask for it and accept my Master’s decision even when I am denied of it.

95. As a helper slave, I shall assist my Master in the setting of a scene.

96. As a cleaner slave I shall use my tongue to clean the seed of my Master from the body of a female slave He has put it upon, my mouth to suck it from a female slave’s cove my Master has used for His pleasure. For as a cleaner slave I am to lick up what semen I can find.

97. As a domestic slave, I shall perform chores about my Master’s house, and those of others He allows, acting in a sexual and enticing manner in all that I do.

98. As a sex slave I shall incorporate a sexual attitude and hunger in everything I do, being eager to sexually perform at the best of my abilities for my Master. My hunger must be such that I would feel as if I could never be satiated until Master allows me to be.

99. The beginning and the ending of a day shall always be with a whipping and a cock feeding to remind me of my place or to provide myself to my Master for His first and last use.

100. Should Master ever wish to cage me for display, I will gladly crawl into it and proudly position myself in it in ways He finds pleasing, in solitude and quiet, so that if He chooses, others may delight in what they see without any interruption from me, seeing that I am well-behaved and humbled that I am Master’s property and slave. I can only hope that Master would never put me into a cage to confine me for my misbehavior, that I could never come that close to displease Him so much that I would have to suffer such humiliation, begging with my tears and my cries for his forgiveness, for I want the cage to be my safe haven from my fears, a place I can crawl into of my own free will, locked into it because Master granted my request to be locked in it.

101. I will periodically examine my whole life and look for how it has changed as a result of my relationship to my Master. I will speak to my Master about those areas where there have been improvements and those areas where I feel uncomfortable, insecure, or unsure of what direction I should take, how I should behave, or how I can behave in a manner that is different from how I have been behaving in the past.

102. I want to suffer for my Master in ways that please Him and that are safe for me to do so.

103. I will not be passive in serving my Master. I will eagerly participate in my exchange with Him.

104. Should Master wish for my breasts to be suckled by Him or a female slave of His choice, I will do my best to keep my milk up so that they may feed from me, that my breasts will be full, tight and extra sensitive as much as possible, for however long Master wants my breasts to produce milk for them.

105. I will not date other women or form a relationship with other women without permission and approval from my Master. If I should have sex with other women, I will have it safely and will always tell my Master in detail what I have done so that no part of me is a secret and that I am laid bare for his inspection and approval. I am excluded from seeking any relationship of any kind with any other Men other than my Master.

106. The money I earn, should I be allowed a career, or put to work, where I am paid for my responsibilities, is my Master’s. I may present ways to Him for His approval regarding how to spend it. I will accept the responsibilities He gives me in the handling of our finances. It is important to my Master that I learn to handle money wisely so, if needed, I can reach my goals or be ready for any emergency where finances may be required for resolution.

107. Except whilst at work or at relatives, if I am wearing a dress or skirt and no panties and I am going to sit down – I must sit on my bare skin – and do so gracefully whether I am in private or in public. If I feel that I am not as clean as I should be, I will tell my Master, so that He can decide what should be done.

108. When I wear nylons I will wear them only with high heels. I will never wear panty hose – such items of clothing shall be thrown out.

109. When I am in the presence of my Master and I am free to move about I will do so in seductive and enticing ways.

110. I will give to Master my body, mind and spirit, in faith of His knowledge of the skills, safety and first aid measures necessary to put me through painfully ecstatic and euphoric edge play; the use of scoring tools to make drawings upon my body; aromatherapy where He will throw me into higher states of consciousness with the scents of oils and incense; to intensify my awareness of my sexual desires; and other such uses. Through these activities I shall learn to ride on the top edge of my fears and the bottom edge of my perception of utter terror – for it is there I shall come to know my greatest fear of all: that I will want to go there again and again.