You Wanna To See A Trick?

We were both in college when we met. She lived with her parents. I had a room in frat house. [It was an urban college, mostly night students, that did not have any panhellenic organizations. A few of us got drunk, someone suggested we start a frat. That sounded like a good idea and so about a dozen of us got it started. Thankfully,  it was not charted until after I graduated.]

So anyway, two of us paid token rent on a huge victorian home. There were parties every weekend. Usually several of the faculty joined us to suck up. Yeah, a different time.

The house was our rendevous site. One day, I asked her if she wanted to see a trick and started quickly taking off my clothes. She surprised me and had her clothes off, her ass on the bed with her knees up before I finished. That’s when I knew she was Olympic caliber keeper.

I Lost More Than A Friend

I am somewhere on the depression scale. January and February have always been dismal months for me. Often too cold to be outside and I have many projects to do outside. So I am anxious about not being able to do them. This puts me in a mood, without even taking into account social isolation and the political crap. It would be nice to have someone to have a beer with. I have had exactly 12 beers in 18 months. I’ll bet most of you are feeling about the same to one degree or another.

All these brought me to reflect on a dear friend I lost in November. We went back to our 20’s together. He loved music. He played a Les Paul, not all that well, but enough to amuse himself. We spent many nights together listening to music while smoking some weed. [His wife always carried a Mason jar of all buds in her purse]

Tom was losing kidney function and refused dialysis. If he could not have a transplant he was resigned to die. He refused contact with all of his many friends. Even his sister was mostly excluded. The last time he would take my calls or acknowledge an email was six months before he died.

Tom was always quick with a laugh and a solid friend. If he had an enemy, I never knew it.

I not only miss our sharing of music but our conversations. I miss Tom.

In the end, all we have are memories. I treasure them.




Sue and I knew a bit about each other from reading each other’s online profiles, but we had never met or even chatted online.  I knew she was married and she and her husband switched, but since she had not given any hint that they might attend a party I did not pursue her. So it was a surprise to me when they did come to a party. I did not talk with her long, but later that night she came to me and said “You are sitting on what I want to paddle”. That’s all it took for me to follow her to her room where she expertly gave me the most wonderful spanking of my life.

This memory came back to me the other day when I was corresponding about leather slappers. The ones with a slightly flexible piece of thin steel sown between the leather sides.

This is what Sue used on me. My profile indicated that I did not care for a warmup and she remembered that, confirmed it and she got right down to business. My bottom had the most wonderful glow for hours afterward.

The Early Years

Over the years I have written about spanking my dates in HS. I would say I spanked every date, but that seems beyond incredible. I can’t say how many girls with any reliability as ADD left me with few complete memories of those years. I barely recall any of their names.

The odd thing to me is that I never planned to spank anyone. The little darlings would push my buttons and I spanked them. Not a one protested. Some of them repeated their behavior to earn another spanking. Looking back I see they were playing me. I wonder if they acted the same with other boys or did I have a sign on me that said “I spank”?

I had never seen anyone spanked nor been spanked OTK, but I found it was a natural position. I spanked on couches and the back seats of cars.

At that time, I did not connect spanking and sex, other than once their panties were down it was seemed reasonable to me that sex might follow. And sometimes it did.  I had no clue that spanking a gals bottom would give her a sexual thrill – both mentally and physically. We were not taught that nerves went from the posterior to the sex organs.


My Dad had a 33-foot boat and he would sometimes head down river and dock overnight at a business associates river cabin. The cabin was on a bluff, so it was a long flight of steep stairs from the dock to the cabin. That ensured the adults would not be checking on us down below. Especially after they had had a few drinks. We would sneak a few brews to enjoy on the rear deck of his boat. That section was hidden from their overlooking view.

One time Dad’s friend had his two nieces at the cabin for the weekend. I think they were a year older. We spent the day skiing. I spent a good deal of time gawking at their boobs and bottoms barely covered by their bikinis.

That evening the girls showered and put on short shorts and perfume. I can recall the scent now. We started making out and they both got playfully sassy. Well, you know what happened. Their shorts came down and they got spanked on the dock. We then returned to making out. I would like to say more happened, but it did not. I think it was because I was apprehensive that we would be caught.

I was 19 when I connected spanking and sex and then I also wanted to be spanked. I continued to spank, but now I could occasionally be on the bottom.

Flash forward to just now – The Older Years

I took a break from writing this post. On the way back to my computer I found Bacall bent over in the kitchen. What’s a guy to do? I took down one of our too seldom used spanking spoons that hang in the kitchen and gave her four firm wacks.

Then she wanted me to Feel The Burn, so I bent over and got four and I did ever feel the burn.

Footnote, our spoons are like nothing you have ever seen or felt. They are hand-carved from Arkansas Cherry. A friend had them special made – the spoon side is only slightly dished out, so it fits the curve of the bottom well. They have long handles and are on the tuddy side. I would say they might compare to a long handle bath brush.


Safe Words And House Cleaning

Long ago, Bacall’s good friend Bill gave her a safe word. Well, a safe sentence. It was I want to clean the house. During a recent paddling that I posted about, she gave me that safe word. I was amazed that while getting a dose of fast and furious she came up with it from a long distant past.

BTW, she did clean the house, well she washed all the baseboards which were getting rather seedy-looking and scrubbed the tile bath floors. I think the next spanking might get the windows washed.


2020 will be better

These are two cool cats. We were never this cool. Is that a Lincoln?

Bacall serving my cocktail. Yeah, right

Bacall enjoying the holidays, last year

Bacall being spanked by Bill at a party a decade ago. That’s them on the right. We were playing a custom card game that ensured the girls were well spanked.

Cancer took Bill soon after this party. We will always miss him.

Six Of The Best

This was written by Bacall in 1997.

He was showing me the program he had downloaded, Six-of-the-Best, written by a British chap, George Ware. It was definitely oriented towards getting strokes from a headmistress/master, but it solved the dilemma of “how many” quite well and from an unconcerned third-party. I liked that. After the program determined the number of licks, it concluded with a very stern British lady saying “Very well, bend over”. I was inspired. I knew I would put this to good use very soon.

Most of our spanking play happens on weekends, after breakfast, showers and coffee. Saturday was far too hectic and so it was Sunday until we had some time to play. I told him before we got up that he was going to get his bottom paddled right after lunch. I reminded him several times during the morning. After breakfast, we did a little yard work and then went in to shower and clean up. He likes to wear panties when he is going to be paddled, I have bought him several pair for the purpose. Sometimes, when he returns from the shower he finds a pair of panties on the bed that I have laid out for him to wear. I didn’t do that this time. And I was only mildly surprised when he came into my bathroom and told me I was going to be really “mad” when I saw the panties he was wearing. He wiggled his bottom at me and, stuck out his tongue – I gave him a playful swat on his jeans. He left and I dried my hair.

When I was ready, I found him in the office and told him it was time for his paddling and I wanted to use Six-of-the-Best. He started the program up. He must have been feeling bullet-proof, as he clicked the “Tough Butt” button twice, thus increasing the number of licks he was going to get. He appealed his sentence three times, costing him 5 licks for each appeal, then he got a surprise, the program had warned him to remember the headmistress’s name, but when it asked for her name he could not recall it, so he was awarded an extra six licks. All total, he was going to get 38, a little more than I usually give him.

I sent him to get the paddle from the closet. This paddle is like the ones that were once found in so many principals offices. [So you can guess what we call it] When he returned with it, I gave my best impersonation of a British headmistress as I said: “Very well, bend over”. He laid over the large desk and gripped the opposite edge. I pulled the paddle back and brought it down with more force than I ever have. Like I said,  the audio in the program had really inspired me. I gave him five more and told him to stand up and take his down jeans. Now I really had to laugh, he was wearing a pair of my floral print panties. He had never done this before. All the panties he had worn before had been solid colored and very plain. I told him he would be very sorry he had put them on and told him to “Bend over”. He did and I put the paddle to his pantied-clad bottom 24 times. When he got up, I could tell he had really felt them. But, he still had another eight licks coming. I told him to follow me. Holding his jeans up, he followed me down the steps, through the den, down the hall and into our bedroom.

I got out the cherry paddle. It’s 3/8 inch in an oval shape that fits his fanny just right and stings like a swarm of bees. [I know!] I told him to pull the panties down and bend over the bed. He did. His bottom was bright-bright red and was now going to feel the cherry paddle on his bare bottom. I stood to his side and laid on eight hard licks in quick-time. I was somewhat surprised that he was able to take them so well.

With his paddling over, it was time for fun for me!

Walking In The Rain

A reader shared this:

Depending on the mood, and if it’s a warm rain, my husband and I will go out walking in it. The very first time we did it was before we got married, and we were on our way to his folks’ place. He suddenly pulled off on a little back road, then turned down a little field road that led back into a grove of trees. There was a little pond right in the middle and we walked around it, getting pretty wet before we got back to the car. We made love right there, standing against the car, in the rain, and it was pretty magical. We’ve stopped at that pond a few other times, but that first time is still the best!

I am sure many of us have an experience with rain. We raced sailboats for a quarter decade, so we have lots of wet experiences. Perhaps the worst was when the wind dies in a steady deluge. Just floating. The rain gear keeps most of it off, but more than once we tacked and a bucket full poured off the sail down my back.

The best memory was years ago. I was car shopping, walking between adjacent downtown dealerships. It was a warm day, the rain was in droplet form, but not heavy, not windblown, just delightfully warm. I got soaked all the way and it felt so good I continued walking just to be in the rain.

Paddled At Church

The only paddling I recall at church was during a Sunday evening youth group. Two of the older boys, 17, were the group leaders. Paddlings were promised for misbehavior during the program. I wanted no part of that and keep my mouth shut and endured the program. The best looking girl in the group, the one with longest legs and full breasts did something to incur the wrath of the group leaders. After the program was over, I came back from the restroom and saw in a darkened room, the two group leaders, the girl and both of her parents. [They were our chaperones] Mom was holding her daughter’s crinoline slip out of the way so one of the boys could paddle her. I don’t recall what underwear she had one as she was side to me. I witnessed two licks and then was spotted and waved away.

I’ll bet a nickle she was spanked frequently by her Dad and that he enjoyed it.

Early Us

I want to tell you about early us. We were spanking each other before we married. I was not doing a good job for her. I thought that since I liked wood paddles, it was the only way to go. So it wound up with me getting paddled a lot more than her. 15 or so years go by and she discovers leather paddles and she is all over that. About the same time, we both learned to share our spanking desires with each other. No more mind reading. That really turned things up for both of us. Much hotter play. We learned to ask for what we wanted.

For instance, she will say she could use a bottom toasting the next day. I will spend the next 24 hours teasing her about what is going to happen. Things, like “Well, you know I am not going to let you off easy. You are going to have to take your licks”. This appeals to her force fantasy. Or “I think you need to be bound and cuffed”. She loves light bondage and being taken. Or maybe, “I am going to take you in the closet and paddle you”. Getting paddled and laid in the closet is a turn on for her. We all have our quirts.

She does the same to me describing the paddling she is going to give me. Most of her stories are invented on the fly and begin with “Once upon a time”. I should record them. But’’ it’s hard to think about recording when she is breathlessly telling me a story and rubbing me.

No fooling