Bondage is seldom mentioned  on spanking blogs – at least the few I try to keep up with.

Bondage runs from hands tied with a scarf to being hogtied with clothes pins all over the body – and worse.

In our marriage, it has always been Bacall with the interest. I get nothing out it, but I do enjoy giving her mind the freedom to enjoy her fantasies.

She told me before we married how she was turned on when a bf tied her to a tree. I regret that I have been remiss in giving her that thrill more often.

I guess this would be one way to do it

Not often enough I have put in her leg spreaders, a blindfold, wrist cuffs and suspended her from a hook over the door. When I do I always flog her with two purely sensuous floggers.


I always tell her that I am going to paddle her hard and that she must take her licks without complaint or moving. Her reply is always “Do I have to?” I tell her she must and that triggers her total submission. She sticks her bottom out and takes every lick. [That submission will vanish as soon as the play is over. I call it bedroom submission]

Another role she likes to play she calls Persian Slave princess. She has matching bra and panties that do look like something a Persian Slave princess might wear in a movie.

The princess has been kidnapped, but so far has been defiant to her master. It was my duty to get her docile and complaint.


Homemade stock

Tie Me Up

One from the vault – a March 2011 post

Bogey writes: Yesterday, Bacall mentioned that I would need to tie her up today. I understood. In our early life, we had a hard time understanding each others needs because we did not communicate. After attending a few spanking parties we decided we could actually tell each other what we wanted to happen to us. I know that asking for a spanking is considered worse than shooting yourself in the foot for many, but it works for us.

Tie her up meant she wanted some light bondage and some heavier paddling. Got it. I mentioned things that might happen to her the rest of yesterday and continued teasing her today. She quivered a little each time. By late morning, she had worked herself into a darn good resemblance of a submissive lass.

Bacall writes: Today is a nice rainy morning, so what else do you do on such a day, but play.  We discussed it yesterday so as to build the excitement.  [Anticipation, trepidation, etc.] And what a morning it was.  I dressed in my Persian Slave Princess attire and was summoned upstairs where the spanking bench was waiting.  I was blindfolded and my hands were cuffed.  I was told to kneel down on the bench and the cuffs were attached to the bench.  Obviously I was not leaving that position.  Being blindfolded gives a sense of loss of control and kind of disorientation.  I did not know what would happened.  Well, that’s wrong, I knew exactly what was going to happened, I just didn’t know which implement was going to be used first.

First was the leather slapper.  It’s delightful for me, not too much sting but a wonderful slapping sound which is so important to the mind.  Of course, Bogey got a few “Oh’s and Ouch’s from me.  Then Bogey instructed me to give him deep kisses on his love muscle, which I was more than happy to do.  Next came the crop and I don’t know who enjoyed it more.  If something else was used, I just don’t know it because my mind was so into my bottom.  I got a break and was released from the bench.

Next we came back downstairs to our bedroom.  [Bogey interjects: Darling, you forgot about sitting in the chair with your legs held up high and getting eight licks with the batten on your inner thighs. I must not have done a very good job since you forgot. I promise to make it up to you] My panties came down and I bent over the bed and received pops with my holey paddle.  By then my mind was so into this, so Bogey used the red paddle, which I must say was completely satisfying.   And the rest — well you can figure that out.

Bacall’s Songs

Regular readers know that Bacall and I are both Alpha types. We can’t spell submissive. Want to know where Bacall’s mind is on leadership in a relationship? If it’s possible, to sum up her outlook in a song, then these two might do it. She will not tolerate being told what to do. No one owns her.

Nor will she tolerate a wimpy guy.

She wants a gentleman. Not a man to boss her around, but one who will spank her when she wants it. And she always lets me know when she wants it.

You Don’t Own Me

You don’t own me
I’m not just one of your many toys
You don’t own me
Don’t say I can’t go with other boys
And don’t tell me what to do
Don’t tell me what to say
And please, when I go out with you
Don’t put me on display ’cause
You don’t own me
Don’t try to change me in any way
You don’t own me
Don’t tie me down ’cause I’d never stay
I don’t tell you what to say
I don’t tell you what to do
So just let me be myself
That’s all I ask of you
I’m young and I love to be young
I’m free and I love to be free
To live my life the way I want
To say and do whatever I please
And don’t tell me what to do

Johnny Get Angry

Johnny, I said we were through
Just to see what you would do
You stood there and hung your head
Made me wish that I were dead
Oh, Johnny get angry, Johnny get mad
Give me the biggest lecture I ever had
I want a brave man, I want a cave man
Johnny, show me that you care, really care for me
Every time you danced with me
You let Freddy cut in constantly
When he’d ask, you’d never speak
Must you always be so meek?
Every girl wants someone who
She can always look up to
You know I love you, of course
Let me know that you’re the boss
Johnny, get angry, Johnny
Johnny, Johnny, Johnny, Johnny


I was chatting with this lass the other day.


Her husband works on the other side of the country and he only gets home once a month. I asked her if this was the week he was due home and she said she had just picked him up at the airport. I replied “WFT are you doing on the computer” She said he was in the shower. I asked why she was not in the shower with him. It went on like that and she said “You are really bossy, I like that”. She nailed me. Both Bacall and I are bossy, but we still like to get our bottoms toasted.

And we want to paddled just like we like to be paddled. I wrote a long piece a few weeks back detailing how I like it. It does not leave much room for experimentation. I want what I want when I want it. That goes double for Bacall. You would never suspect we are into spanking as we don’t have a submissive bone between the two of us. We fake a little submission when we play. And that my dear readers is why this blog is unique. It’s the only one with players like us. Just call us the odd folks.


A Note From A Would Be Submissive

I have spent and do spend most of my life being the one in control. Perhaps you have already gathered,  that I am as much a control fiend as you are; I am just a little more subtle than you!  I love the power and hate it at the same time. I hate being the one that has to make all the decisions ALL the time….So to turn around and give that control over to someone else I trust, means so much to me!! You say that you get tired at the point where I am about to break………but it’s not necessarily the whacks on my bottom that leave me marked that gets to my head……it’s the control that someone TAKES from me!!! Tell me what to wear…….tell me what to do………watch me while I change…… me as you order me to get on all fours…’d be surprised at how submissive I can be in that kind of safe environment. But just because a man wants to TAKE it, doesn’t mean I always trust enough to
GIVE it. And to date……. I have never really given too much to anyone.

Perhaps I am NOT a “true” submissive. I LOVE and ADORE the power exchange…… week you’re the Dom………the next week I am….but to find someone who can play both roles is very unusual…… have no idea how many times I would have loved to have stopped you in mid sentence………bend you over…….. and paddle your fanny like you’ve never been paddled before!! You would be surprised at how many times I have used the massager/vibrator thinking about such things…….. You are a rarity because I don’t switch with anyone else…..haven’t found anyone else that is stronger mentally than I am, so I can’t go there with them.
As for the BDSM aspects of my play………… I don’t need anything fancy. I love the spreader bar you made; the prayer bench went right to my head before I even got an opportunity to bend over it. And actually I would prefer to be tied up with ropes…..ties….etc. than any fancy wrist cuffs. And spanking would always have to be a part of the play. I am not into bondage, just for the sake of being tied up. That doesn’t do anything for me. It’s WHY I am being tied up that gets to me……

Okay so what does all of this really say………I have lots of ideas for “good girl scenes” in my head……….here’s one: First of all, we are going out to dinner. You tell me what I am going to wear – even down to which panties to put on. Throughout dinner you tell me what is going to happen to me when we get back. Not in full detail but in snippets. When we get back, I am given an OTK warm up spanking. Then ordered to go into the bedroom and take off my dress (leaving on my bra and panties) and wait. On the dresser are laid the implements of choice – a paddle, crop, cane and a switch. I am told to bend over the bed and you paddle me, first over my panties and then you remove them and paddle me on my bare bottom getting in some pretty hard licks. I stand up and remove my bra like I am told to do and then place my hands behind my head. You pick up the crop and tease me with it…….stroking my thighs, whacking my bottom and in between my legs. Then I am tied down with rope… either the bed or prayer bench (!!!)………spreader bar placed to keep my legs apart……..and my wrists are tied down………..You grab the cane and give it several whooshes through the air before it lands on my bottom. The cane is just the warm up for the switch……….after being caned and switched…… untie me and tell me to get on the bed on my back, legs apart…… bring out the the massager…………and then I go from sub-space into outer space!!!!!!!!!!


And right now, I am headed to find my vibrator……..I am a little turned on by all these naughty thoughts!!!

She Got What She Wanted

Had you been here yesterday you would have seen Bacall in her unmentionables, black bra and panties and a black gauzy, lacey half-slip. The slip activates something in her distant memory and puts her in the mood for a good going over.

I started her out with my palm on her bottom. That raises her temperature rather quickly and gets the ouch’s and oows out of the way. I continued with various leather and wood toys until I could see through her slip that  she was nicely red.

For the coup de grâce, I put on her wrist and ankle cuffs. A spreader bar went between the lower cuffs, while her arms were attached to the door at head height. To complete the effect, I put on her blindfold. While I rolled her nipples between my fingers and played with her bits;  I whispered in her ear that she now had to take her licks as she had no option. Like most spanko’s she likes the force fantasy.

I then lowered her slip and panties and paddled her with her red paddle. I gave her six and she thought she was done. I then told her to stick her bottom back out as she had to take another eight. And there were more after that.

The only loud screams and moans I heard from her was after I took her down from the door. I wonder if the neighbors heard her?

The Consequences of Teasing

This story is from the vaults. Circa 2000. It was written by Mrs. Mish who posted it on the ASS newsgroup. It reminds me of Becall.

“Come sit on my lap, honey, and tell me all about it.”  You pat your knee, and take my hand, pulling me toward you.  I sit myself comfortably on your lap and put my arms around your neck.

I drop my eyes, but you won’t allow it, and take my chin into your hands, forcing me to look at you.

Hmmph.  Why is this so much easier online, I wonder.  Confessing my naughtiness in person is a whole different ballgame!  Perhaps it has something to do with that paddle I see on the bed, just a few feet away!

“I’m sorry for writing you all those naughty e-mails, um…Sir.  I know how distracting it must be for you, trying to work and be a good conservative Republican when you have such a HUGE hard-on.”  I giggle.  Even when I am confessing, I can’t help being a brat!

“That’s it.  Stand up.”

I pout a little.  I was getting so nice and comfy on your lap, and I had felt the beginnings of such a promising erection stirring under me.  I loved the way that felt.

“Oh, sweetie, do I HAVE to?”


I know better than to disobey when I hear that tone of voice.  So I stand up, right between your open knees, which close around me.  GULP!  Now I am really trapped.

“OK, young lady.  You know what to do.  Lift your skirt, tuck it up in back, and pull your panties down to your knees.”

I hesitate, for just a second, but it is long enough to irritate you, and I am rewarded with a swift swat to my bottom.

I look at you, trying to melt you with my eyes, but your face is determined, so I comply with your order, lift my full flowered skirt in back and lower my black panties down over my garters so that they meet the tops of my stockings.

Your knees close tighter around me, and I feel so exposed and vulnerable.

A grown woman being lectured is embarrassing enough, but being forced to endure a lecture with my panties around my knees is even worse!

“So you find it amusing, do you, to get me all turned on when you know perfectly well I can’t do anything about it?  What do you have to say for yourself?”

I roll my eyes, and do not respond.

WHACK!  You give my bare bottom one sharp slap.

“I can’t help it, honey!  You are so darn cute and tempting, and it’s so much fun to tease you.”

“Oh is it, now,” you say softly.  “Go get the paddle for me.  And make sure you leave your panties down while you do it.  Now scoot!”

Scoot, indeed!  I take tiny steps, my panties stretched between my knees, embarrassed at the picture I must present from behind…bare bottom jiggling, the pink impression of your hand on one cheek!  I bring you the paddle and wait.

“First, my dear, you are going to sign your name on the paddle along with the date. That’s so I can remember how long it has been since your last paddling the NEXT time I have to discipline you.  And the more often I have to administer this kind of correction, the worse it is going to be for you.


I take the pen you are extending to me and scribble my name and the date, January 22. I toy with the idea of writing something nasty, too, but think better of it!

You guide me over your knee and position me so that my feet leave the floor and my bottom is perched up high, presenting such a convenient target!  You tap the smooth wood of the paddle on my bottom, then move it back and forth across my bare skin. The teasing and embarrassment is almost worse than the spanking
itself will be.

“You aren’t giggling anymore, are you?”

“No, Sir,” I answer seriously.  

“Now lift your bottom up for me, like a good girl.”

I arch my back and my bottom pops up higher.

When the paddle comes down for the first time, I can’t help but begin to struggle at the intense heat and sting.

“OWWWWW, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

“You’re going to be even sorrier very soon, my dear,” you reply sternly, paddling me fast and hard.  “In fact, I think the redder I make your bottom, the sorrier you are going to be.”

“I promise to behave myself, truly!”

“Oh I believe you, but I want to be absolutely sure.  I don’t think your bottom is quite red enough yet,” you reply, paddling low down on my cheeks.  “I want you to remember how sorry you are tomorrow every time you try to sit down  I get the distinct impression that only a very red bottom, for a very long time, is going to have any lasting effect on your behavior!”  WHACK!  I can’t remember ever being paddled this hard before.

I begin to kick, and you throw your right leg across the backs of my calves, pinning me tightly in place.  My bottom is on FIRE but there is a fire building somewhere else…somewhere very pleasant…and I am so embarrassed that you can see how wet and aroused I am.

“Ah…what’s this I see?”  You lay the paddle down on the floor, and begin to gently caress me between my legs.  Amazing how easily you make the transition from stern disciplinarian to lover.  I relax and melt at your touch.

“Hmm…” you say.  “Something must be done about this.”

I turn my head to look at you and try to look adorable.  “Please….no more spanking, Sir?  My bottom is so sore!”

You smile and rub my bottom.  “No more spanking, baby…for now…”, then you guide me onto the floor, and when you stand above me I can’t help but see the huge bulge in your pants, and I kneel, unzip your pants and pull them off  You push me forward so that I am on my hands and knees, my red bottom up high, and
kneel behind me, your cock standing straight out.

I am so wet and ready for you, pushing back impatiently, until you slide your cock into me slowly, teasing me at first, poking just the head inside.

“How’s that?  Are you ready to be my good girl now?”

“Ohmigod, yes, yes, I’ll be good…yes,” I respond, thrusting my bottom back, so that your cock slides all the way inside.

You begin to spank me again, back and forth, alternating cheeks, the hot slaps in time to the hard fucking.

“Such a bad, bad girl,” you whisper in my ear, your hot breath on the back of my neck.  You stop spanking me and reach underneath me to play with my nipples.

“Mmmmm…..yes….yes….but I’m going to be good from now on, I promise,” I say, as you move your hand and tease my clit.

You give one last, hard thrust, plunging deep inside me, and I feel my pussy contracting, coming hard around your cock.  As I start to come, you shudder and moan, and your cock erupts inside me, hot cum flooding into me.

We lie on the floor, exhausted, your arms encircling me.

I flip over to look and you and smile, kissing you seductively.

“I solemnly swear, love, I am going to be SO good from now on.  You will never, never have to spank me again.  I am turning over a new leaf.  No teasing, no more naughty e-mails!”

“Never spank you again?  No more naughty e-mails?” you ask, pulling me close and covering my mouth with yours.

“Nope,” I laugh.

“Don’t you dare…STOP, that is” you say, shaking your head and wondering why dealing with such a naughty brat can be so challenging.


“I  heard of a man who says words so beautifully that, if he only speaks their name, women give themselves to him.”  (Leonard Cohen)

All about Becall

In the throes of ecstasy during our last spanking session, Becall said she wanted to dress up in her Persian slave girl outfit and be hung from the door. That is like her, get her turned on and she turns herself on more. She worked all week getting her mind turned around so she could fully submit. That’s hard for either of us to do. I asked her last night as we were about to doze off if she was ready and she said she thought so.

I was ready two days ago. I put her cuffs on top of the bedroom TV and leaned the crop on the wall next to our closet as mental aids.

She appeared from her bath this morning with long dangly ear rings, all of her gold bracelets plus her pearls. She had on her best slave girl black bra and panties covered with a gauzy half slip she bought just for play.

She likes a thigh fry first, so I used not only the batten, but also a light whippy cane. I had her sit in a wing chair and spread her legs. I gave her light licks with the cane followed by light taps on her most sensitive spot. I love to watch her almost reach orgasm when I tap her and…. then stop. When she gets all hot and bothered, she loves to suck me, so I allowed her. What a great lover I am. [grin] Back to the cane. I brought her close to orgasm several times and then asked her if she wanted the vibrator. She was apprehensive that I would not let her orgasm with it.

She was half right. I had her stand in front of me and I sat down and placed the miraculous machine where it would do the most good and after teasing her some more, switched it on. At once, she started gyrating her pelvis in most indecent manner while I suckled her breasts. She came several times, but I stopped before she had a complete release. It was bondage time.

I placed her wrist cuffs on and secured her to a special hook on the door. She placed herself in a good position by spreading her legs and pushing her bottom out for the crop. She was either quite sensitive or feeling vulnerable, as from the first lick she was moving about with little ah’s. I did not over do it and released her after ten or so licks. It was paddle time.

I took her over my legs and gave her 100 with the leather paddle over her slip. There were many yuummms along the way. I raised her slip and applied another 100 over her panties. I seldom count, but I wanted to be sure I did not abandon my effort too soon today. There were more slaps to her bare bottom, but I did not count them.

I next gave her some pops with her holey paddle and finished with two-dozen or so with our red paddle. Her bottom was now noticeably a dazzling shade of red.

I thought she was as geared up as she could get, so I had her get on her hands and knees on the bed and I took her from behind. It was a first-class lingering fuck. As she likes to say, I fucked her blind.