What’s Up With Us?

I don’t recall if I have said what I am dealing with. It’s a rare form of Leukemia. It does not kill you, but it makes you susceptible to infections that can kill you. I have survived an 11-day hospitalization with a staph infection and a three stay for pneumonia. Enough of that. I stay away from people, wear a mask to grocery shop, wash my hands all day, etc.

My treatment is working according to the doc and my “blood numbers” are improving marginally. Some days I feel almost normal. I am still months away my immune system being able to keep infections at bay and having enough red blood cells to carry enough oxygen so I can function in a normal manner.

Now we have another health crisis. Bacall will have a triple bypass Monday. She has several blockages, two of 90%. The cardiologist and surgeon are both top-rated and predict an excellent outcome. She will be in the hospital for five days so I will be on my own next week. I don’t have the energy to make long visits to her so it will be a long week for both of us.

Dr Kwan is on-call whenever the President (whoever he is) is traveling in the southeast US, including his trips to Mir-O-Mar in Florida. There’s an executive jet on standby at Maxwell ready to take him wherever needed.

Global Warming

A reader was disappointed that I was not concerned about Global Warming or Climate Change or whatever term is used today.

I have been reading articles on the subject for 20 years. I am of the opinion that man may not be the sole cause and there is nothing man can do about it.

But if anyone has an idea, I am willing to listen. The idea must be specific as to exactly what is to be accomplished and there must be a means of measuring if the fix is working. The fix must also be financially feasible.

This article asserts that carbon dioxide, (plant food), can not cause global warming.

Another recent article of an example of fudging the numbers.


I seldom see pictures of women serving in the US military, especially posed like the women in the Israeli military. Is that due to restrictions imposed by the US military?

Winter has arrived. Already missing warm weather. Is she cute or what?

A reader sent me this spoof. I suspect some men desirous of FLR might want one?

Here’s a work uniform for you. Twin Peaks?


  • Do you think Strict Julie is for real? I have been suspicious of it since it began. It has gone through every male spanking fantasy, starting with tame ones and ever-escalating. It reads like it is written by a woman, but I have been fooled before. The recent video left me scratching my head why it was even posted. Voices muted as though someone might recognize them. The wall coverings were blurred so no one could recognize their home. Geese why bother?


  • There are not many spanking blogs left. The only one I look at with regularity is Heart and Soul. Big change from a decade back when good and tasteful ones were plentiful. What blogs are left are ones show the red bottoms of spanking models. If I want to see a red bottom, I can paddle Bacall.


  • Back when Bonnie had a first-rate list of interesting spanking blogs. Then she improved it by putting the blogs in categories, such as DD, FLR, etc. I found that useful as DD blogs, for instance, are always a bore to me. Then she went PC or something and removed the categories and started including some real trash blogs. For the last few years, she passes off new finds to Ronnie. It’s been well over a year since I have seen one of even casual interest. Not her fault that there are no quality sites anymore, but why bother to call attention to rubbish? Would it not be better to call attention to quality blogs? Continuing to win more friends here.


  • Consensual Spanking celebrated 17 million views with a toast by Bogey and Bacall. I suppose we should be gratified.

OBB will never get 17M views, but then we don’t feature OTK hair brushings.

School Days

This was written to me by a woman I enjoyed paddling for many years. I did not catch on at first that she wanted to play this scene – her peeking in while Bacall paddled me.

It was 4:00 on Friday afternoon and I was anxious to head for home and begin the weekend.  I’d been working on a project in the school library, and most of the students had left half an hour ago.  As I approached the principal’s office, however, a peculiar noise caught my attention.  It sounded like a loud clap – no, more like a slapping noise.  As it came again, I realized what it was – someone was getting the paddle!  Curious, I tiptoed to the door and listened.  Mr. Sawyer, the principal, was really laying down the law to some unfortunate student.  I wondered who it was?  I glanced around but the hallway was empty.  Surely no one would notice if I sneaked a peek.  Temptation got the better of me and I tried the door.  It opened easily and the sounds immediately got louder.   Miss Thompson, the principal’s secretary, was nowhere to be seen, and Mr. Sawyer’s door was ajar.  Heart pounding, I peered into the room.  A boy was bent over the desk, his trousers in a heap around his ankles.  Mr. Sawyer stood behind him, paddle in hand, sternly lecturing him on the evils of smoking.  Thomas Sawyer was a tall, rather handsome man in his early fifties, with dark hair and brown eyes.  He could be stern, but I had always rather liked him.  He had a brilliant sense of humor and often made me laugh.  As I watched, he lifted the paddle and swung it hard – CRACK!  The boy cringed and yelled “OW!” but held his position.  I couldn’t see his face – was he crying?  The paddle cracked down again.  I was totally transfixed at the sight of his bare bottom getting a hard paddling.  What did it feel like, I wondered?  To be totally at someone else’s mercy, helpless, exposed, your bottom burning like fire…

I was so absorbed in the spectacle before me that I didn’t notice Miss Thompson’s return until it was too late.  She propelled me forward into the office, and I stumbled slightly.  “It seems we have a Peeping Tom,” she announced to Mr. Sawyer.  The principal turned abruptly at the interruption.  He looked at me in surprise.  “Why, Rebecca!  You’re the last person I’d have expected to do such a thing!  You ought to be ashamed!”  I blushed crimson, wishing I could melt into the floorboards.  “I’m sorry, sir…” I mumbled, eyes now fixed on the floor.  The boy over the desk made a muffled noise, and Mr. Sawyer redirected his attention to him.  “Nick, you may pull up your trousers and turn around.”  As he turned around to face us, I gave a start as I recognized him.  It was Nick Edwards!  He was a very cute senior I’d had a crush on since the beginning of the school year, though I’d always been too shy to approach him.  Now I was really embarrassed – what must he think of me now?  Mr. Sawyer cleared his throat and for a moment I thought I saw him grin.  Then his features became quite stern and he stepped closer until his face was just inches from mine.  I had to crane my neck to look up at him.  I’d never noticed just how tall he was before, and I suddenly found it quite intimidating.

“Well, Miss Rebecca.  What shall we do with you?  I think the punishment should fit the crime, don’t you?  Since you got to watch Nick receive his swats, I think it only fair that he should watch you get the same.  What do you think, Nick?”  Nick smiled and said “Yes, sir!” just a trifle too enthusiastically.  Was that a leer I could see forming on his face?  Damn him, he was going to enjoy this!

Mr. Sawyer dismissed Miss Thompson and closed the office door.  “All right, Rebecca.  I never thought I’d have to do this, but I guess there’s a first time for everything.  I want you to lift up your skirt and bend over the desk, just as you saw Nick do a few minutes ago.”  I was absolutely mortified!  And I was blushing again.  “But Mr. Sawyer, you can’t be serious!  Girls don’t get paddled, do they?”   “A few do, my dear.  Now, do as I say.”  I really didn’t have much choice, did I?

With a glance at Nick, I turned and followed the principal’s instructions.  I was about to find out just exactly how it felt to be paddled!  I was embarrassed and scared, but something else, too.  Excitement, was that it?  Surely I didn’t think I was going to enjoy this – that was just ridiculous!  It felt kind of weird to bend over the desk that way.  Then I felt a tug as Mr. Sawyer pulled my panties down to my knees.  Oh my God!  My bottom was completely bare, and in front of Nick!  I felt so embarrassed, and so terribly exposed.

“Rebecca, I’m going to give you six swats.  Please try to hold your position.”   I waited for the first swat for what seemed an eternity.  What was he waiting for?  I was just about to turn and ask him when the first swat exploded across my bottom.  “OW!”  I didn’t expect it to hurt so much – I thought he’d go easy on me since I was a girl.  “Please bend back over, Rebecca.  If I have to tell you again there will be penalty strokes.”  I hadn’t even realized I had raised up.  I bent over again and waited.  The second and third swats came hard and fast, one on each cheek.  I could feel tears beginning to form.  I gripped the desk and blinked back the tears.  Number four came square across the middle and burned like fire.  Almost done, hang in there, girl.  The last two swats were lower down and encompassed part of my thighs – they hurt the worst yet.  By the time he told me to pull up my panties, the tears were flowing down my cheeks.   And yet, I felt almost sorry that it was all over so quickly.

“You took your punishment very well, Rebecca.  I hope you learned your lesson.  And I hope that satisfied your curiosity, young lady.”  Mr. Sawyer looked at me kindly as he handed me a tissue.  I saw the ghost of a smile at the corners of his mouth.  “Yes, sir.  I promise never to eavesdrop like that again.”  I dabbed at my eyes and blew my nose.  “May I go now, sir?”  “Yes, you may go.  And try to stay out of trouble!”  I hurried away, not daring to look at Nick.  How could I ever face him again?

My mind was a whirl of confusion all weekend.  I kept playing those two scenes over and over again in my mind – Nick bent over the desk getting a paddling, and myself bent over getting the same.  Thinking about it was making me awfully horny – now, why was that?  I’d never been so embarrassed, and it had hurt like blue blazes, and yet something about it turned me on.  I couldn’t explain it, and I was dreading having to face Nick on Monday.  I just knew he must hate me for watching him like that, and he would probably tell all his friends about watching me get paddled.  I would be taunted and teased mercilessly!  It was too awful to even think about it.

Monday morning came all too quickly.  I thought about staying home sick, but then decided I may as well get it over with.  I saw Nick in the hall and he waved at me.  I pretended I didn’t see him, but he cornered me at my locker.  “Uh, oh, here it comes,” I thought.  “Why did you disappear so quickly on Friday?  I wanted to talk to you.  Are you OK?”  Nick actually looked concerned.  What was that about?  I muttered some excuse about needing to get home.   “Look, I really want to talk to you.  Meet me after school?”  We agreed to meet at the bleachers by the athletic field at 3:30.  I spent the rest of the day on pins and needles, wondering what Nick wanted to talk to me about.

My last class finished early, so I arrived at the bleachers at 3:15.  It was a beautiful spring day and the sun felt warm on my skin.  There was no one around, so I sat down in the grass and closed my eyes, just soaking up the sun.  I started thinking about Friday, and I started getting turned on again.  What was it about that spanking that made me feel that way?

I was startled when Nick suddenly spoke – I hadn’t heard him approach.  I looked up and saw him smiling down at me.  He was tall and tan with light brown hair that he wore a little long.  He had the most striking green eyes that seemed to look right into your soul.  It was a little disconcerting, like being undressed and exposed.  He sat down in the grass beside me.  “I loved watching you get paddled, Rebecca.  You have the most beautiful ass, and seeing it jiggle under that paddle was an incredible turn-on.  Am I making you uncomfortable?”  I was blushing furiously, but I was secretly pleased.  He felt the same way!  I said, “Yes you are, but please don’t stop now!”  He started stroking my leg as he talked, and I felt myself responding to his touch.  I felt mesmerized by his eyes, and after awhile he kissed me.  I’d never felt so attracted to anyone before, and I had the impression the feeling was mutual.  “Would you mind if I spanked you?” he asked with a grin.  “No, I think I’d like it!” I answered dreamily.  He pulled me down across his lap and began to caress and stroke my bottom – it felt wonderful.  He pulled my dress up and began to spank me over my panties.  It was a light sting, nothing like the paddle.  I was actually willing him to spank me harder.  I was disappointed when he stopped, but it was only to take my panties down.  Now the spanking began in earnest and he covered my bottom with sharp spanks that made me squirm.

A sudden shadow made Nick stop and look up.  It was Mr. Sawyer, grinning widely.  “She will need a lot of that, I’m afraid, Nick.  Carry on, carry on.”  He sauntered off with a wicked smile.

Lady Hawke 4/02

How We See It


I suppose that many spankos are terrified of admitting their fetish to others, maybe even to themselves. I have written about this before and got zero feedback. I contend that if you conceal part of you that is so central to you, you are cheating yourself out of a lot of happiness.

We have written quite openly about our decades-long spanking life. When we were younger (fit and trim) we often engaged in spanking with others, single women and couples. That may brand us as sexual degenerates in many minds, but we don’t see ourselves that way. We were game for playing with others as we had no qualms about being nude and there was no jealousy of each other.

Nudity – If you went swimming, you would be seen by the same-sex nude in the locker rooms. I went to military school, no privacy there, nor was there any in the Navy or sail clubs. In early marriage, we went to nudist resorts. When people shed their clothes they drop all pretensions. We skinny-dipped in pools, rivers, lakes and on the Gulf Coast with many folks. In two neighborhoods we had regular nude soaks in hot tubs with whoever was there that night.

Jealousy – If either partner is jealous of the other, then the mere thought of their sweetheart being nude and spanked by a strange person behind a closed-door would start a war. That was never an issue for us.

Sex – I would engage in digital intercourse with a few women. Bacall did also. I never had any other form of sex. I don’t know, but I doubt Bacall did either.

So with that background, we are rather open about spanking. We are not ashamed of it.

There was a recent Brunch that had the following comments about having a witness to their spanking:

Never had anyone watch and not really interested in having spectators.

That would be a big, fat no and there never will be.

No so far there has not been a third party present during my spankings but I am hoping that will change…. She is a very private person so a third party may not happen…

No. My husband and I have no interest in a third party present.

I think I would like to watch someone getting spanked but wouldn’t like anyone watching me getting spanked.

She has taken to deleting my comments, so I will say it here. In early marriage, I hid my spanking fetish from others, but after 10 so years, I came out. We always had fun with a third or fourth person.

It would seem we are in a small minority. Some of the most fun times we have had is with another woman or part of a group skit.  Be able to talk with others about our common interest was freeing.


I Wonder How Many Opportunities I Missed

I woke up this morning with a distant memory on my mind. I have spanked quite a few women in my life, but I suspect I missed out spanking even more because I missed the clues or did not try.

We were at a neighborhood party held at my best friend’s home. There must have been 30 to 40 folks there that night. As always Frank kept the booze flowing, so all were in a festive mood. As I entered the kitchen I saw three women bent over the kitchen bar. I casually knew one of them, but the other two were new to me. The one on my side of the bar had her bottom sticking out in tight white jeans. I am impulsive and without thought, I bent over and spoke close to her ear that I sure would like to spank her. She did not say a word but pushed her bottom out. I gave her two swats. She did not move, so I said the next two would have to be harder. So with several other people watching, I gave her two more licks.

A spanking relationship developed that continued until she met Mr. Right and moved to south Florida. I could relate some of our times together, but the thought in my dream was how many times did I miss out? Women want to be spanked. My guess is one in four is up for some type of percussive play. You have to keep asking if you want to play.

Yes, Yes, I know many of you married guys would never do anything like this. But, Bacall and I have never had a relationship that prevented relations with others. We have our borders and we don’t cross them.


A Nashville songwriter said a good song is three chords and the truth. Here’s another truth.