South Of The Border

Dear Kay,

I live in S. America and am married to a beautiful woman who administers regular spankings whenever she thinks I have misconduct or disobeyed her. Although she has always dominated me orally from the beginning of our relationship, she has just come to spanking one year ago. I think this was the natural consequence of her dominance. She realized that only domination was not sufficient and that a good spanking could make her achieve her objectives more efficiently.

The first time she spanked me was when we went to a party organized by her cousin. I started saying some silly jokes about the stories she was telling to a group of friends. She immediately told me to shut up, in such an authoritative way that everybody was frozen, including me. I didn’t know where to hide. I just tried a silly smile and began talking about something else.

When we left the party she remained in silence till we reached the car. Once inside she told me, with a finger at my face, that I had exceeded her patience and that she would give me a spanking when we got home. Those words had a strange impact on me, a mix of pleasure, since I always secretly wished she would spank me.

After entering our home, she put her bag on the table and went to our bedroom after me. There she took off her high-heeled sandals and, without further advice, started spanking me with the leather sole. She was very furious, and after some swats I could just ask “Please, honey, no more, I’m sorry. Please, stop!” but she just coldn’t stop until her rage had vanished. After having printed a lot of red marks, she told me to take my pants down and lay on her lap, with my bare bottom up. She applied the hardest spanking I have ever had in my life. In 38 years I could never suppose that a spanking in the bare bottom could sting so much.

When she finally finished, she said, still holding the sandal in her hand and pointing it at me, that from now on, things would be different in our relationship. Whenever I misconduct myself or didn’t follow her orders, I could expect a similar treatment. She made it very clear that she would not allow arguments from me and that any disobedience would be punished with a spanking.

That has been our routine. I receive at least two spankings a month, some lights, some very severe, after which I always finish in tears. The “touch of art” in those severe spankings is that she always use the sole of her high-heeled shoes, which is a very sexy component in the ritual, and that I hardly see described in the stories of US residents, which usually use hairbrushes.

I think this is because of the difference between the cultural heritage of United States and us. Here in my country, when we are punished by our mothers in the childhood, a slipper is always used, never a hairbrush. This fact, joined with the sexy appeal that a high-heel adds to every woman, in my point-of-view, is much more exciting to be spanked with shoes than with hairbrushes. Sorry for my bad English.

Carlos

A Loving Spoonful

Dear Aunt Kay:

Last night as we were getting ready to go out to a fund-raiser for our son’s school, a friend called for directions to the soiree. Renee and I were in the kitchen and the kids were shooting baskets in the driveway.

The friend, who talks to Renee frequently, asked a direct question from which I inferred she knew of a problem our son had been having at school. I answered her with a factual statement of what the assistant principal had told me, and my wife’s eyes burned into me for disclosing this. I defensively told Renee what the friend had said and explained that “I thought she knew.”

Renee reached for the heavy wooden spoon and said, “Get off the phone right now. Ask her not to breathe a word of it and get to the bedroom.” I am sure our friend heard every word.

In the bedroom, Renee said very angrily, “We won’t have the house to ourselves tomorrow morning (Sunday is our usual private morning), but we do right now. Get those pants down and get over my knee.”

Well, it didn’t take long, but it was memorable. The spoon fell full force about 25 to 30 times, with continuous scolding about what a big mouth our friend has and how could I be so thoughtless and so forth. She put me in the corner and we were both breathing like we had run a race.

When I went to get dressed a few minutes later, I could see the imprint of the spoon head so clearly I could have counted the exact number of swats I had received. But I didn’t want to do anything except get on with the evening.

And it was a great night. Renee had extirpated her anger completely. I had not even apologized although we both knew I had made a stupid mistake and that going over her knee was the best way to deal with it. There was nothing sexual at all, but love–well, love was all over the place, during the spanking, afterwards and all day today. We both knew that I probably deserved a harder and longer punishment, but we haven’t spoken about it since, even though we have had many private opportunities.

She is really getting accustomed to using this power in a very positive way and there is no “topping from below” going on here. Yes, I still believe (except when I am actually getting it, of course) that she should give stronger doses, but she is strict and she is in charge. I don’t have any choice but to present my bottom when she demands it, and we are definitely past the point of turning back the clock on that. I still want your help if she calls you, and I am grateful to you for your leadership in this important arena.

Most respectfully,

Marvin

Note to Marvin

I can surely understand Renee’s response in that situation. My hubby also got one of his “most memorable” spankings for unbecoming behavior in front of friends.

Aunt Kay

Four Letters from Del

Dear Aunt Kay;

We have never breathed a word about this to anyone, but my wife and I have dabbled in domestic discipline for years. Nothing much to start with-you understand, a few slaps here and there-but we did find out early on that I liked being chastised and she did not. Guess my ego and her aversion to anything resembling violence precluded this from being anything but a once in a blue moon bit of spice.

In the last couple of years this has changed. Like it seems as I became more secure and our relationship solidified so to do our willingness to push the envelope. It has been mostly me initiating these sessions and have had to explain to her that to me it is not violence at all.

Now the last couple of weeks have been something of an escalation. I’d barely recovered from the previous weekend’s chastisement when I found myself craving another. I told my wife about it and she agreed to do me once we were done with shopping. Needless to say I was highly agitated marching through the store.

We got home and I immediately finished my work off, poured a drink and jumped in the bath tub. My wife remained totally clothed. I walked into the bedroom and there she sat on the official discipline chair; paddle, strap, and hairbrush in easy reach. I dropped the towel and for a while we just stared, then she motioned for me to go OTK.

She’s getting frightfully good at this-like she knows right where to take me and she plays my fanny like a violin until she brings it to that perfect glow. It seems I’m going mystical at times. Like this last time I was having visions of the ancient Eleusian rites and other times I’ve had visions of Earth Goddesses. Not sure why this thing turns me on to such a cyclonic degree. Childhood might have something to do with it but I think it goes deeper than that. Throughout history there have been flagellant cults all over the world playing to some basic need in some people.

I know for a fact many guys are secretly turned on by the prospect of receiving spankings from their loved ones but will never admit it. It takes one incredible degree of trust to pursue this thing and a high degree of self assurance. But it seems ridiculous and it goes against every macho preconception there ever was. Which is maybe exactly the point. Letting someone else take over. Of being vulnerable. Of atonement or something like that.

I can’t say this thing is for everyone, or even very many folks. I can say I’ve been walking around all week feeling strangely in touch.

Yours Truly, Del

Dear Aunt Kay,

I just talked to my goddess over the phone and is she mad at me! Hey I’m a man “and is not a man stupid?” Zorba the Greek said. Little bit of intemperance with the vodka bottle yesterday…hey! Boys will be boys! Well she’s kind of P/O’ed and dropping some large hints about a paddling to come. Now that wooden thing hurts….Never wish too hard for a thing, you might actually get it. Before it was always me initiating the spankings, but now all of a sudden it’s her bright idea. Think I’ve created a monster here. Should I refuse? No-it’s all too titillating.

Love, Del

Dear Aunt Kay;

This is getting scary! SHE just called and said I was in for a paddling. The prospect makes me impossibly steamy but also a bit scared. This has never happened before and much as I like it, it’s weird having HER call the shots. Two more hours to go!? Think I’ll run out and buy her some flowers because from the sounds of it I’m in for a severe session. Butterflies in stomach and my blood rushing in my veins-feel like I did when I was 13 and that art teacher invited me out in the hall for some TLC with her ruler.

Love your site! Del

Dear Aunt Kay,

Now that was scary! She ate a little supper while the threat hung in the air like an Apache helicopter. Then she invited me into the bedroom. “Strip!” she ordered as she fished in the drawer for the instruments. Absolutely…There’s something so magical about going over a my wife’s lap. She started with the strap, which I like. Scary stuff started when she switched to the paddle and she was wielding it with a sense of purpose. “OW! OW! OW! Gosh your getting good with that thing, honey!” About 10 whacks in I relaxed and found myself arching for the wood, she’s going to spank me to the color of Napa Valley Wine!. When she finally did let me up I was glowing in the dark. Don’t think I’ll be doing the drunken lout shtick again any time soon. She is getting good at this.

Love, Del

Happy Spanking

Dear Aunt Kay

I won’t bore you with the reasons we got into domestic discipline. I want you and your readers to know how it is at our house. Tim and I work in our own business. There are Times when he requires an attitude ad- justment. Here is how I do this. When the doors are locked, I sit at my desk, Tim stands beside me, I lecture him, and then he is required to bring me the cane, apologize for his behavior, and ask me to punish him. I have him bend over a chair, with bare bottom and proceed to deliver. This session takes about thirty minutes. I must assure you that each stroke is severe, and brings out a big red welt, he is usually crying after a good dozen. I inspect his bottom each morning after one of these spankings, if the welts disappear before three days, I know I wasn’t severe enough.

At least once a month, we arrange to have the house to ourselves for a weekend, or we may go out of town to a hotel. I have told Tim that it is spanking day and he knows what is in store. For these prolonged sessions I have developed a ritual. When I am ready, I have Tim come to me. He will stand in front of me and I begin my lecture. What do I say? It goes like this. “You know Tim that in the last month I have had to spank you three times. I notice that after these spankings, you are very well mannered, so it seems to me that you could benefit from a day devoted to your correction. You are an adult male, but there is a little boy in you that needs to be spanked. Go to the bathroom and bring me my hairbrush.” Tim brings the hairbrush and I have him lay across my lap. I bare his bottom and proceed with the brush, making sure that each cheek is crimson red. I use moderate strokes, but lots of them. the hairbrush lasts as long as my arm can endure.

Tim may or may not be brought to tears by the hairbrush, but the day has only started. He will thank me for the use of the hairbrush. We then will likely have lunch, after which I may read or watch television. Tim, meanwhile is required to bring out the cane and the leather belt I like so much. When I am ready, Tim is required to lay on the bed with a pillow under his stomach. I again bare his bottom and I use the belt. I deliver strokes from midway between his knees to the top of his buns. Tim will beg me to stop, cry, and plead for mercy. I only stop when I need to rest. When I am done his bottom is marked with belt lines that look like tire marks. Tim is always in tears by now. He will apologize to me, thank me for the belting and then we adjourn for our evening meal.

When we first got into spanking, it was at Tim’s insistence. I made it clear that spanking was for punishment only and not a prelude to sex. (Although great sex has been a welcome side effect).

Happy spanking,

Cindy