Really struggling to catch-up with an in-tray a foot thick; an episode of Abraham Heights, Magic and Spankmanship are all pending but not quite ready.
Also coming up here are few random snippets culled from the vanilla world, which may have been missed by readers but none suggested a single post.
However, this one may serve as a standalone for now. It is from ‘most embarrassing moments’ and is rather apropos.
Claire (26) wrote:
My boyfriend spanks me, it is just a thing we do and I wouldn’t have any other way. This has led to many embarrassing moments, but that kind of adds to it. He usually spanks me hard with his hand or bath brush or something on my bare bottom. It really hurts, especially if I deserve it and I sometimes even cry like a kid. But it all serves to put me in my place.
Sometimes I even have to stand in the corner, often for an hour or more, which is really embarrassing even if no one is around, which they are not (usually). Even worse is when I get sent to bed, once or twice without my supper. I hate that, but it is also kind of cool.
He has threatened to spank me in front of others, but it has only happened twice. We were on holiday at the time and thought we were in a secluded place. I had been in a bit of a strop and had mugged him off. I wasn’t surprised when he pulled down my shorts and spanked me at an old seaside shelter. He was really going for it when we heard a male voice say, “Oh sorry.”
I looked around from over his lap to see an elderly couple smirking and leaving us too it. Mark didn’t even break his stride.
Another time we were again on holiday in Greece. I had been a real pain and Mark set about spanking me with a sandal in our room. I really howled and was close to tears when the manager came in.
He was almost as embarrassed as me and said in broken English he was just checking and he left smiling. Mark the sod carried on spanking me. I could have died.
Then he gave me a choice. Corner time while he ordered room service. I would be bare-bottomed for this I knew. Or we could walk on the beach and go to a taverna.
Of course I chose the second option but then I found out what he had in mind. I wasn’t allowed to put my bikini bottoms on and had to go out in a semi-see through sarong that didn’t completely wrap around my hips.
Luckily the beach was deserted and it was getting dark, but sitting in the corner of the bar on a sore bottom while I wrestled with a light breeze there and back was an adventure.
