Thursday 31 March 2016

Drawbridge Day

Well, that break flew by, didn't it? Harry stayed fit and well; thank you for all your blessings, positive thoughts and good wishes. It didn't exactly go as planned here in the Jones household, but there was plenty of spanky action, nevertheless. Four spankings in five days!

Despite his best intentions Harry had to work on Thursday, though not a full day. He sent me a text in the afternoon saying, "Your 3 o'clock has just left the building." Uh, oh! I know what that means!

Friday night, Harry decided I needed "help" to get a good night's sleep in preparation for a busy day on Saturday.  Saturday night was "Just because."

It wasn't until Monday that we got to pull up the imaginary drawbridge to keep the rest of the world at bay. We'd had a pleasant but tiring day with relatives the previous day, so we slept late and had a leisurely breakfast. Harry was up and dressed first. As I made my way to the bathroom he told me to give him a shout when I had showered and not to bother putting on clothes. I did as I was told and what followed was the longest, most sensual, spanking I have ever had. When Harry patted me to let me know we were done, I couldn't move straight away. My bottom was red and stinging but I was overcome with a feeling of calm and contentment that lasted all day.



Harry cooked a superb dinner that evening (rare fillet of beef with a red wine, cream and mushroom sauce, sautéed potatoes, and red peppers roasted with baby plum tomatoes, in case you're interested!). As he ushered me to my seat, he asked how my bottom was and I replied that it was still a tiny bit tender but I wasn't complaining. He had a quizzical look on his face as we raised our glasses in a "bottoms up!" toast and I said, "No, I don't know how it works, it just does!" He said he'd accepted that a long time ago, he was just wondering if I'd ever want to stop. If he spanked me every day for a month, would I be over it? I'd certainly be glad the month was done and dusted but I'm sure I wouldn't want to go back to life before ttwd, it's part of who I am. Fortunately, Harry wouldn't want to go back either; he loves the changes this dynamic has wrought as much as I do.

He's not working tomorrow. After he kissed me goodbye this morning, he said he'd see me at 5 o'clock. Uh, oh! I know what that means!



Rosie

Friday 18 March 2016

Under the Weather

I've been under the weather for the last few days with a stinker of a cold.
My head ached, my chest hurt from all the coughing and, as for the runny nose, I probably used enough tissues to fell a small forest. You'd probably have preferred not to know that.



Yesterday afternoon, Harry phoned me to remind me to put some Champagne in the fridge to celebrate the end of his nine days' run of work. It had to be pink Champagne, he had some colour matching to do. I protested that I wasn't well but he said that would make it easier for him, I'd be too weak to struggle. He loves to tease.

I was ready and waiting for him when he came upstairs, with the fizz and two glasses in hand. He had me lay across his lap on the bed, my favourite position, and the fun began. 
Harry couldn't cure my cold but he knew just how to lift my spirits.

I'm feeling much better today; the combination of a warm bottom, chilled Champagne and a loving man was a great pick me up. We had a sweet reconnection of a different kind this afternoon. 




Harry's taking a couple of extra days off over the Easter break. Fingers crossed that he doesn't catch my cold.





Rosie

Sunday 13 March 2016

Suck it up buttercup

Before I go any further, I want to say a big thank you for the wonderful Blogland welcome I received after my fledgling post. I was blown away by your kind comments.


I ended that first post at the point where discipline entered our mix. It was then that I realised this was the kind of spanking I'd craved all those years. The kind that meets my primitive need to know my mate is stronger than I am. That's not to say that sex doesn't come into it, I'm sure you'll agree a man in charge is hot!

I'm a strong, independent, woman and Harry has no wish to change that. There is no punishment in our dynamic. We don't have a whole bunch of rules, just a few of what he calls Standing Orders, such as not standing on chairs to reach up to cupboards and keeping my mobile phone charged. When we started spanking, at that time strictly for fun, I gave him my consent to spank me at any time and for whatever reason he saw fit. That consent suits the way ttwd works for us, it's still fit for purpose.

We discovered together that nothing sets my world to rights better than a reset over Harry's lap. And who knew the value of therapeutic spanking? Who needs a sleeping pill with all those endorphins rushing around to counter the effects of a hot bottom? Then there are the reminders, good girls and just because...  All in all Harry makes sure my blog title fits.

Don't think for a moment, though, that all is sunshine and flowers in the Joneses' household. Just a few days ago I was pretty miffed with Harry. He told me he had to re-arrange his work schedule because he'd taken on a new job that would run through the weekend, with no compensating time off the following week. Once upon a time, I would have had a thing or three to say about that, probably accompanied by some world class pouting, but those days are gone. I could have expressed my feelings in a respectful manner but it wouldn't have made any difference, the deal was done. My best option was to suck it up, no sulking or distancing. I couldn't change the way I felt but I could choose the way I dealt with it. Harry has left each morning with the imprint of a smiling wife in his mind and returned to hugs and kisses. As is often the way in this dynamic, I still got spanked. Harry sent me a text as he left work on Friday, telling me to be prepared in our bedroom when he got home. It was mostly for fun, with a few harder spanks at the end to ensure a happy weekend.

On a lighter note, here's a little snippet that might make you smile. A few hours after I hit 'publish' on my first post, Harry and I were in France on a shopping trip. We were happy to find that one of our favourite Champagne houses has produced a new brut rosé. Harry held a bottle up and I knew exactly what he was thinking - that the colour was a perfect shade to turn my derrière. We bought two cases.



Cheers!


Rosie

Monday 7 March 2016

Rosie Jones Bites the Bullet

Hello! Welcome to my blog.

Now that's something I never thought I'd write. I've been reading in Blogland for around three years now, commenting here and there, writing some Fantasy Friday stories and even being a guest on the blogs of two good friends. But blogging myself? No way! Not on your nellie! I had the excuses ready - I didn't have time, I was much too busy and, anyway, my life is too uneventful to write about.



Have you ever had the feeling that resistance is futile? Oh, of course you have, silly question. Little by little, with patience, charm and much encouragement, my resistance was whittled away by a determined friend. I expect you can guess who. But what can I write? Where shall I start? The obvious answer is at the beginning, so here goes.

Spanking has always fascinated me; I think I was wired that way from birth. I can remember watching, goggle-eyed, as Miss Whitworth, the kindergarten teacher, applied a gym shoe to the seat of Ronnie Cox's grey shorts. That was in the 50s, when corporal punishment was commonplace and if you were spanked or caned at school you were likely to get another dose when your dad got home. I'm not speaking from experience, of course; I was an angel. I'm old enough to have watched the Bonanza episode where Ben Cartwright spanked a girl when it first aired. That fuelled many a fantasy, like a mini-series in my head, only the man of my dreams was Adam Cartwright, not his father. I was spanked playfully by a couple of boyfriends in my mid-teens and liked the way it made me feel. It wasn't until I was seventeen, when I was soundly spanked by an older boy, that I identified that feeling as a turn-on. Soon after that, Harry and I got together. We had met two years earlier but disliked each other on sight. Jupiter must have aligned with Mars or something later on because we fell madly in love. He was shocked when I asked him to spank me, totally repulsed by the idea. I persisted until, eventually, he forbade me from raising the subject ever again.

Fast forward 43 years to a bright January morning, the two of us entwined in a post-loving embrace. Harry eased away from me, reached into his bedside cabinet and pulled out a package that was to turn my world upside down. It contained a short, black, skating skirt and he told me, stumbling over his words, that if he ever saw me wearing it he would spank me. I was gobsmacked; that's an ugly word but it fits how I felt then. It turned out that a combination of the Fifty Shades phenomenon and Sheldon spanking Amy had opened his mind to the idea that spanking could be fun and he was willing to give it a try. But did I really want to? I'd stopped fantasising about it years ago and isn't there something, well, undignified about a sixty-something woman being upended over her husband's lap having her bottom smacked?

We tried role play the first time, naughty wife being chastised by loving husband. Harry delivered about twenty light smacks to my behind, with the ridiculous skirt flipped up round my waist, before moving me to the bed for other activities. The second time he spanked harder. I was like the cat that got the cream but Harry was concerned because I had a few light marks. That's how I found Blogland, using the Internet to find advice on how to spank without bruising. I told Harry the answer seemed to be a warm up spanking first; I didn't mention the blogs I had begun reading avidly.



I can't say Harry really enjoyed it but, once he accepted that spanking left no lasting effects, he soon gained confidence. Somewhere along the line we even acquired a paddle; leather of course, I had it on good authority that wood is no good. It's odd the way spanking can change a relationship. We had always been an affectionate couple but spanking added an extra layer of intimacy somehow and made us even closer. He learned surprisingly quickly to read me so well that he knew when I needed a spanking "just because."

Spanking was only for play, until a fun session to lift me out of a bad mood morphed into something more serious. We weren't sure what had happened but we both liked the result. That was the beginning of ttwd in our marriage.

And this is the end of my first post. Phew!



Thanks, M.

Rosie