Spanked to Warm Pink

For Openers

Spanking blogs that titillate me are history. Did you see the question of the week: Are your eyes open or shut while being spanked? Oh geeze! Those questions got boring years ago.

I don’t have any titillating words for you. Perhaps a few images of young women will brighten your day.

The older I get, the more images of fuzzy animals, young women and three year old girls boost me. Before you think I am a pedofile, I have found three year old girls like to ‘splain things to strangers. You can watch the wheels turn as they make up a story. They amuse me.

Without more words here are six suitably pink bottoms.


So, What’s Up?

I mentioned last month that my twin diseases were kicking me hard – leaving me with little energy and absolutely no interest in sex/spanking. This has in the past lasted a week or a month, then I feel almost normal. I have been in the ditch longer than a month this time. The famous line spoken by Edgar G. Robinson came to mind “Mother of mercy, is this the end of Rico?”

Recent posts reflect my mood.

Last Saturday Bacall fell and fractured her tibia. The surgeon said he would operate if she were younger but since she no longer a spring chick and also a heart patient he thought surgery was not the best option.

We normally share cooking, now I get to do all the cooking. I do the prep, rest and resume.

Night before last I had my first sexual dream in sometime. Does this mean better days are ahead? It was a new dream, but closely followed my kinks. We met a switchy couple and decided to play. She had an inventory of spanking panties and panty girdles and we all changed into our choice. The only one that I recall was the girdle Bacall put on. I have never seen one like it. Multicolored like finger painting. Her hands were in a stock and I was paddling and diddling her while the other couple watched.

Speaking of paddling and diddling, this couple does it like we do or should I say did before recent events.

His arms and beard remind me of Bluto.


The Best Idea of My Life

Tired of politicians? I sure as hell am. Doing the same thing and expecting different results is said to be the definition of insanity. My idea is to have non-politicians serve – people with zero political experience. It could be you or your next-door neighbor.

Here are a few well known names that come to mind.

Gary Sinise Common Sense

Mike Rowe Common Sense

Victor Davis Hanson Impressive Knowledge

Neil Degrasse Tyson Genius

Anyone on the WSJ Editorial Staff

What do you think?



Action Zone

While I was going to college, I worked part-time in a Men’s clothing store. They were very accommodating letting me set my own hours depending on my class schedule.

There was a cafeteria in the same mall where young men would carry your tray to the table. The tips were small but were enough to buy a $35 pair of Sansabelt pants every shift.

The store moved several hundred pair of Sansabelt pants in bright colors in waist sizes of 28-30 every month.

I never knew about the Action Zone.

PS I met Bacall at this store when she came in to buy her brother a suit. Had her number on the alteration ticket. I purposely mis-marked his suit so she would have to come in again.

I wonder how many 16-year-old lads bought this?

Memorial Day

You may see some celebrating Memorial Day next week. They just don’t know the history and purpose of the day.

Memorial Day was established to honor those who died in American wars. Memorial Day was originally called Decoration Day. It originated during the American Civil War when citizens would place flowers on the graves of those who had been killed in battle.

There are parades on Veterans Day to celebrate all those who are currently serving or have served. Memorial Day is more solemn – a day of remembrance.

This distinction is important to the families and friends who had one that did not come home in his/her boots.

Woefully Uninformed

I was reading Democracy In America over breakfast this morning. It covers the young life of Alexis de Tocqueville and his trip to America where he came to understand democracy as few Americans ever do.

Pubic education contributes nothing to understanding America. The teachers can not pass an exam for the grade they are teaching. Small wonder that students have zero affinity for how America is set up. It’s is planned because the uninformed are easily manipulated.

Later in the day I read an interview with a senior judge on the U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals for the District of Columbia.

This jumped out at me after reading de Tocqueville.

Americans of all political stripes, Judge Ginsburg says, are woefully uninformed about constitutional matters: “22% of adults can’t name a single branch of government.” The schools no longer impart “an education that encompasses the minimum that a citizen should know about how our government works, why it was structured the way it was, and what their rights and obligations are.”

You can read entire interview using the link below. Please keep in mind that the Journal writes for 11th grade readers. If you have a public education in the last 20 years it may be a strain for you to read.

My Jeans Phase

Hands is responsible for bringing this memory to mind.

There was a young lass who liked to play the schoolgirl role. She had the uniforms and ties.  If you went to any of the early Chicago parties, you probably met her. You may have paddled her or she you.

She came by this honestly. Her parents sent her to a private HS. You already know the drill. Bare bottom bent over a chair while the principal put the wood to her. Her Mom would be present to witness the paddling. What they did not know was that paddling turned her on.

She told me about her school paddlings and wanted to relive them. And so we did. I used my longboard paddle and put her mind back in that place.

Time passed and she played too heavy with some guy and developed a spot on her bottom that was really painful. So no more bare bottom paddlings. However, she was most agreeable to being paddled with her jeans on. And that’s when I developed my jeans phase. I enjoyed cracking the paddle on her jeans more than on her bare bottom.

I enjoyed doing this with several other gals, including Bacall, who thought “Oh boy am I ever getting away with something”. [It’s like when paddle breaks on them. It’s “Woohoo, I broke the paddle”. And tells everyone of her achievement. Totally different than “He broke the paddle on me”.

I don’t have a single picture of me paddling a jeans clad bottom, so these commercial ones will have suffice. [Yes, these was a time when no one had a phone camera. Portable phones came in bags.]

Tall, slim waisted and could reach her ankles.

So I did four posts this week. Still half in the ditch with fatigue, but my appetite has returned.