Age Play & Domestic Discipline; My Stories and Thoughts

Lasting Summer

2011-08-22T07:22:00.000-07:00

After a little time off, I've got another Jack and Meggie story out and ready. This one is a little bit different because there's a lesbian twist to it. That's not usually my area, but maybe my horizons are broadening!

Here's a snippet:

Jack and Meggie's Summer Retreat (if the link doesn't work be sure you have Adult Content enabled at Smashwords)

“But where IS it?” Meggie asked, squinting up at the large building in front of them. She had been promised three different swimming pools and a private beach.

Jack took her hand. “It’s back there. I promise. All you can see from here is the main house.”

Meggie had to admit that the main house was impressive. It reminded her of old Southern homes with its sturdy columns holding up a massive front porch. A wooden fence that Meggie judged to be about 8 feet high guarded what was behind all that house as far as Meggie could see.

There were many cars in the parking lot already with plates from all over. The resort would be open all summer, and guests would come and go as their own schedules allowed.

There had been no signs for the resort, and there was no advertising. It was snuggled up into a remote area where it would be hard for someone to just come across it by accident.

Jack pulled the large suitcase, which supported a smaller one, out of the trunk of their car. Meggie flung her own duffle bag over her shoulder and followed her husband inside.

Meggie’s body registered a little shock when she stepped into the almost chilly air-conditioned main house and out of the nearly oppressive summer heat.

A huge, grinning man greeted them at the door. He had silver hair and a friendly face. Meggie judged him to be in his late 60’s at least. He held out his hand to shake Jack’s and then Meggie’s.

“Welcome. I’m Uncle Everett. You have reservations, I assume?”

Jack nodded and followed the man to a desk and a small computer.

Uncle Everett looked closely at Meggie. She was wearing short navy blue shorts and a t-shirt with a scene showing exploding fireworks. She had pulled her hair into a ponytail and tied a red ribbon around it.

“I’ll need proof that she’s over 21,” said Uncle Everett sternly. He looked hard at Jack. “If we catch anyone here under 18, we do pursue legal action.”

Jack started to laugh but then cleared his throat instead. “Oh Meggie is far past 21. She’s very youthful looking.”

Meggie pulled herself up to her full 4’10” and handed her ID to the man behind the desk. She was, in fact, nearly 30 but small and baby faced.

He nodded and smiled. “Checks out.”

He handed Jack a key and pointed him to the elevator. They would be on the second floor of the large house with a view of the saltwater pool.

“I want to swim!” Meggie announced when they were in the elevator.

“We’ll swim,” Jack promised. “Calm down.”

On the way to their suite, Jack and Meggie passed a couple on their way one of the pools. The man had on blue swim trunks and a t-shirt advertising a steakhouse. The woman wore a pink swimsuit with white polka dots and lacy frills. It had clearly been custom made for her, perhaps modeled after a design originally meant for a toddler. The couple was about the same size. The woman might have been slightly larger, even. But it was clear to Meggie that the man was in charge.

Meggie sometimes wondered what it would be like if she was the dominant partner and tall Jack the submissive. It made her giggle.

The woman and Meggie grinned at each other as they passed.

Meggie appreciated the woman’s style. She herself tended to dress young at these events. After all, that was part of the fun. But she preferred regular looking clothes to the frilly stuff for herself and she knew that not everyone could pull off the look the way that she could. However she enjoyed seeing the sometimes outrageous costumes that other people chose to wear. Some even wore diapers and baby bonnets.

Jack opened the door to the suite, and Meggie immediately ran inside dropping her duffle bag on the floor. She went to the window where she could see a huge pool surrounded with people.

“That’s where everyone is,” she concluded.

“There and at the other pools,” said Jack. He stepped up behind her to take a look for himself. “There are two more on the property as well as some smaller areas for privacy, or so I’m told.”

Jack let his hands roam Meggie’s body as she studied the scene outside. She could instantly pick out several male dominant, female submissive couples just as she and Jack were. But there were also femdom heterosexual couples and plenty of same sex couples too. In some cases Meggie couldn’t immediately tell from clothes or behavior which was the dominant partner. She reminded herself that some people like to switch back and forth. She watched a woman in a large sunhat and a skirted swimsuit taking another woman across her knee. The submissive woman wore a frilly two-piece, and her partner pulled the bottoms right off. She took a small paddle from the table beside her and delivered a swift spanking to the naked bottom. Then she sent the woman back into the pool with her bottom bare and pink.

Meggie turned from the window. “Can we go swimming?”

Katie's Back!

2011-02-03T16:21:00.000-08:00

I really enjoyed writing the stories in Katie's Age Play Escort Service, so I decided to write some more. Volume 2 shows you how the escort service began and also introduces some new characters, including clients who are a Mommy/Daddy couple using Katie's service for an age play daughter. Here's a peek:

Amber woke up in the twin bed and pulled the princess sheet and blanket up to her chin. She yawned and snuggled deeper into the blankets. She knew that Gina would be in soon.

Gina opened the door and stepped inside. “Good morning, Amber.”

Amber looked up at Gina and grinned. Gina was in her mid 40s, about 20 years older than Amber. She and her husband, Dean, had been clients of Katie’s for a long time. They had worked with other girls but enjoyed Amber the most.

“Good morning, Mommy,” said Amber. She sat up and stretched her arms. She climbed out of bed and padded to Gina. Her drop-seat footie pajamas were warm and cozy. Secretly Amber wished she had a pair for her apartment in the city.

Gina patted Amber’s bottom and gave her a kiss on the head.

“Now go potty, honey and then make your bed. Daddy’s waiting for us in the kitchen,” Gina told her.

Amber padded to the bathroom while Gina disappeared toward the kitchen. On the way back, she ignored her bedroom, knowing that was what the clients wanted. She climbed up onto the wooden bench at the kitchen table and let Gina serve her pancakes.

“Good morning, Daddy,” she said to Dean. He was drinking his coffee.

“Good morning, sweetie,” he answered her with a smile.

“Did you make your bed, Amber?” Gina asked.

Amber looked away. “Um… yes.”

Dean looked at Amber. “Young lady, are you telling the truth?”

Amber shrugged. “I’ll make it later, ‘kay?”

Gina put her hands on her hips. “Amber Jane, did you just lie to your mommy?”

Amber conjured up a guilty look. “I… I didn’t mean to.”

Dean put down his coffee. “You know better than to lie to Mommy, Amber. Go to your room.”

Amber slammed her fork against the table. “It’s not fair!” she shouted.

Dean stood, and Amber scampered to her room. Dean and Gina followed close behind.

Dean grabbed Amber by her forearm and seated himself on the small bed. He pulled Amber across his sturdy thighs.

“Daddy, no!” Amber pleaded. “Daddy don’t spank.”

“You’re getting a good, hard spanking,” said Gina. Her hands were on her hips. “You were a naughty girl. You disobeyed Mommy when you didn’t make your bed, and then you lied about it.”

While Gina was scolding, Dean was unbuttoning the little flap on Amber’s pajamas. He pushed the fabric down on both sides so that Amber’s bare bottom poked out like two little hills with a valley in between.

Dean began spanking Amber with swift, firm swats. Amber started to sniffle and kick. “No Daddy! Stop!”

“Daddy will not be stopping until your little bottom is nice and pink,” Gina said while Dean continued to spank Amber.

Amber wiggled her bottom under Dean’s descending hand. “Daddy no! I’m sorry!”

Dean landed several more swats on Amber’s uncovered bottom. Then he looked at Gina. “You think it’s pink enough?”

“Yes!” cried Amber.

Gina pursed her lips. “A few more for the lying.”

Dean followed his wife’s directions and landed five more hard swats to the pink skin. Amber cried out with each one. When he was finished, Dean let Amber crawl off of his lap.

“Daddy, aren’t you going to put my flap back?” asked Amber in a teary voice.

“Absolutely not,” Dean told her. “You can walk around the house with your naughty, bare bottom showing this morning. Now apologize to your mother.”

Superfanny Coupon

2011-01-02T09:55:00.000-08:00

This is the first time I've tried offering a coupon for one of my stories. You, my wonderful readers, are the lucky ones to try it out. (Or you are my guinea pigs, however you want to look at it).

Superfanny is what I consider to be a cute new story. It's based on the TV show Supernanny, but my version has wife spanking so it's a lot more entertaining.

The usual price for Superfanny is $2.99. Use this code at Smashwords - HB38L - and you can get it for $1.99 until February 2nd. Enter the code at checkout.

I hope you love it!

Meet Katie

2010-12-21T13:05:00.000-08:00

Katie's Age Play Escort Service is a book I had so much fun writing!

Katie is the owner of an age play escort agency, and this book introduces readers to a few of her clients and employees. All of the chapters in this book are male top / female bottom and have some relationship to age play. I was hoping to show that age play can include lots of different scenarios.

I'm planning to write another story about Katie and her escorts. In the next one, I'll include a little bit of Katie's back story and how she came to own an age play escort service in the first place.

Here's a little sample of the book.

Katie’s stomach did a flip-flop as she fell onto Evan’s muscular legs. She gave a little squeak at the impact. Evan positioned her so that her bottom was centered on his lap.

Katie was wearing nothing but a work shirt of Evan’s. When she was standing, it hung off her shoulders and down to her knees.

Evan pushed the fabric toward Katie’s waist to reveal her bare bottom. He put his right hand over both cheeks and began to massage the skin.

“Naughty girl,” he murmured, his voice deep and soothing.

Katie squirmed. “Naughty? I didn’t do anything.”

“Not yet, but you will,” he told her.

Katie shook her head in protest. “You can’t spank me for something I might do.”

“I can’t?” Evan’s voice betrayed laughter. He leaned back and regarded her.

“Maybe you can,” Katie conceded with a smirk. She relaxed over Evan’s lap and sank into the feeling of his fingers on her bottom. The fingers journeyed very slowly toward the center of things, and Katie’s pussy began to throb with anticipation.

But before Evan’s fingers made their way into Katie’s personal crevices, he pulled his hand back and began swatting her bottom.

“Ouch!” She yelped, jumping at the surprise attack.

Evan kept smacking her until she could feel a little sting building.

“That hurts!” she complained.

“That doesn’t hurt,” Evan told her. He placed five rapid fire swats on her left cheek and then repeated on the right.

“Yes it does!” she yelled.

Evan stopped and placed his hand on her bottom. “No, Katie. But I can certainly make it hurt..” He pulled back his hand and smacked her bottom hard. “That left a handprint,” he announced.

Katie yelled, biting her lip to stop herself from cursing.

“Now are you done complaining?” Evan asked her.

“Yes,” she said. She let her head fall down onto the sofa while Evan kept whacking away at her bottom.

“I don’t deserve a spanking,” Katie muttered trying to sound annoyed. She knew her voice betrayed her growing lust.

“You always deserve a spanking,” Evan told her. He spanked her low and in the middle of her cheeks, and Katie could feel her body grow moist.

“Just creating a little heat,” Evan told her. He swatted her a little harder, and smiled when Katie yelped.

“You have the sweetest little voice when you’re being spanked,” he told her.

Katie rolled her eyes and was immediately thankful that Evan didn’t see it.

Evan’s hand stopped swatting and rested between Katie’s legs. His palm was partially in her bottom crack and his fingers slid down between her legs. Evan had a large, heavy hand. Katie sometimes wondered if there was concrete inside.

“I’m going to fuck you hard and then paddle your sweet behind,” Evan announced.

Katie smiled. “Sorry, honey. I have an appointment back at the office.”

“Hm, so I only have time for one? Should I fuck you or paddle you?” Evan mused, teasing her verbally and with skillful fingers.

Katie wiggled her bottom seductively and pushed back against Evan’s hand.

“Okay, okay,” he told her. He slipped one finger and then two inside her. She rocked against him.

“Who’s the appointment?” Evan asked. He wiggled his fingers against the rough inner wall of Katie’s vagina, and she went weak.

“Uh.. hm?” she breathed.

Eric pressed his fingers against her. She moaned loudly. “The appointment, Katie. Who is your appointment with?”

“Oh, that woman Charles recommended,” she said. “It was the contract we worked out last night. More.”

“More?”

“More pressure.”

Evan complied with Katie’s request and pushed his fingers against her with a slow pulse. Katie’s head swirled and she concentrated on the feeling.

“You’re going to hire her then?” Evan asked, continuing his intrusion.

“What? Yes, of course, if she agrees. Oh Evan,” she moaned. “That feels so good.”

Even pressed a little harder, and Katie squirmed.

“Your bottom still warm?” Evan asked her.

Katie nodded. The answer to that question was always yes.

“Let’s just make sure,” he said. Katie whined as Evan popped her bottom quickly twenty more times.

The sting in Katie’s bottom wasn’t unbearable. In fact, it was the center of a glow that went all through her body.

Evan slipped his fingers back between her legs, and Katie moaned. He brought her to the edge, back arching toward him, and then he pulled away.

He stood and flipped Katie onto the bed on her back. He kept his eyes on hers as he took off his clothes. Then he slowly unbuttoned the shirt she was wearing and pushed it aside. He climbed on top of her and leaned over her body, making her feel small and possessed.

“You are so wet,” he told her. “Somebody likes to be spanked.”

Katie grinned, and Evan leaned down to kiss her on the mouth. His lips pressed forcefully against her own.

Then his other parts were pressed against her, too. Katie moaned as Evan slipped inside her, filling places she hadn’t known were empty. Evan gave her a moment to feel him inside her before beginning to slowly rock back and forth. Katie moved with him, pressing her hips up and pulling him into her.

“Naughty baby,” Evan whispered in her ear as he rocked her body forward and back. “We’ll have to find time for that paddling.”

Katie arched her neck a little. She could feel Evan’s warm breath against her chest, and it was bringing even more heat to her already burning body. She matched Evan’s rhythm, the pressure inside growing more and more intense.

Just when she thought she would burst, he stopped.

She whimpered.

Then he began to move again, this time with stronger thrusts that moved her whole body with him. Katie felt her desire rising like a tide, and she shuddered.

“Go ahead,” he told her softly. His voice was calm but broken by his own heavy breathing.

The orgasm washed over her like water. She closed her eyes and felt the waves rush, bringing her out to sea and then back again.

Evan came more explosively, intensifying Katie’s rolling waves like a storm at sea. By the time it was over, Katie’s legs felt weak.

Evan climbed off of her and then leaned back against the sofa with a heavy sigh.

“Katie, you are an incredible woman,” he told her, his eyes still closed.

Merry Christmas from Jack and Meggie

2010-11-11T17:43:00.000-08:00

I wrote two short Christmas stories featuring my favorite age-play couple, Jack and Meggie. You can find them at Lulu, Kindle and Smashwords. They are being offered for just 99 cents at Smashwords! Here's Jack and Meggie on the Christmas Train (inspired by a true story!) and A Little Christmas Spanking.

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas...

The Preacher's Wife

2010-10-24T12:20:00.000-07:00

In The Preacher's Wife, the story of Frankie and Nick continues. Now Nick's got a church, and Frankie is learning how to be a minister's wife.
The Preacher's Kid, The Preacher's Bride and The Preacher's Wife are almost what could be considered Christian Domestic Discipline. They are about people who have a deep faith and who are very conservative in many ways (although I like to think that they are politically liberal!) and who believe in the husband and the Head of Household who has the authority to discipline and spank his wife as well as his children when necessary.
Do I love Christian Domestic Discipline themed stories? Yeah. Do I believe that God has given men authority over wives and should discipline them when he thinks they need it? Um... no.
I have a suspicion that many of us who like our CDD are in it for the erotic nature of it. For me there's something hot about dragging religion into a domestic discipline story.
The Preacher's Wife includes some sex, so it isn't really a true CDD story. However it still has that twist that I enjoy. I hope you do, too.
Here's a little sample of The Preacher's Wife.

The Preacher’s Wife

By Jennie May

Frankie sat perched on the wooden chair outside of the farmhouse’s front room that Nick used as his office. She and Nick had been married for only a few months, and he had recently begun a position as pastor of the nearby Abington Community Church. Nick was handling the position well, in spite of those who thought he was too young for that level of responsibility. He had proven that he had the experience and the skills to lead the church effectively as well as to deliver inspiring and enlightening sermons. Frankie, however, was finding that her role as a pastor’s wife was not as easy as she had expected. In spite of years watching her mother in the same role, Frankie was having trouble with the diplomacy and grace required.

Frankie couldn’t see into the office, but she was still aware of the unfolding events. The door was open, and she could hear everything that was happening inside. She bit her lip, listening to the conversation.

“I understand,” said Nick. His voice was low, serious and completely professional.

“It’s not that we necessarily disagree with what Frankie said,” a higher voice explained nervously. “We understand her feelings on the matter.”

“But we disagree with the tone she took with Mrs. Dell and with the words that she used to explain her position,” said Marshall Kent, the oldest and most serious member of the church board. Frankie could just picture the old man’s round face crumpled into concern.

“I understand completely,” Nick repeated. “Frankie needs to learn how and when to express herself.”

Frankie winced. She felt terrible that she had put her husband in this position. He had just started his job, and she was already causing trouble. She had known all along that Mrs. Dell had been one of the people who had been against Nick’s being hired as pastor.

Frankie thought about Mrs. Dell and tried to contain a grumble. Old Mrs. Dell was the most miserable woman in the church. She complained about everything from Nick’s sermons to the color they had painted the church nursery. She had been talking Frankie’s ear off last Sunday when she mentioned that she didn’t believe children under the age of 5 should even be brought to church.

“Disruptive, that’s what they are,” the woman had said, squinting her eyes at a group of children playing nearby. “In my day, children knew how to behave. Now they just run like wild animals. You should speak to your husband about banning children from services.”

“Banning the children?” Frankie had repeated. “But how will they know about God?”

“They’ll find out about God when they’re old enough not to both me during worship,” Mrs. Dell had snapped.

For a moment Frankie had just stood in front of the woman, shocked. Then, too quickly, she found her voice.

“Jesus said let the little children come to me. Perhaps we should ban nasty old women instead, Mrs. Dell.”

As soon as the words left her mouth, Frankie wished she could grab them all and shove them back in.

Mrs. Dell had huffed and turned quickly on one heel. Then she’d made a beeline for Marshall Kent.

That was why the church board was visiting Nick today. Frankie was so embarrassed she felt like crawling under a table. But she knew that if she wasn’t there to see the church board to the door, it would disappoint Nick.

She would do her duty as a minister’s wife, even if it squashed her pride.

Frankie stood as the little group left Nick’s office. She stood with her hands clasped against the back of her skirt and forced a smile.

“I’m glad you understand, Nick,” Marshall Kent said, shaking her husband’s hand.

Nick nodded solemnly. “I’ll take care of it Marshall. I appreciate you bringing it to my attention.”

Frankie swallowed hard. She moved to stand beside her husband and say goodbye to the church board as they left the little house. Each member told Frankie goodbye, but each seemed a little bit nervous to be speaking to her. Frankie felt like a naughty child who had been tattled on by the neighbors.

Nick closed the door and turned the lock with a click. Then he settled his eyes on Frankie. He raised his eyebrows. “You have anything to say for yourself?”

...

Frankie bit her lip and looked down at the bed.

Nick pulled her across his lap and positioned her bottom over his thighs. Then he flipped up her skirt and pulled down her panties.

“You have more responsibilities than the average woman, Frankie,” he told her sternly. “You are a minister’s wife, and the way you act is a reflection of me.”

Frankie felt chastised before the spanking even started. When it did start, the stinging slaps fell fast and with force. Her bottom soon felt like a ball of rubber left out in the sun. She involuntarily kicked her feet and closed her eyes tightly as Nick’s hand landed again and again on her bare cheeks.

The spanking wasn’t long, but the sting in Frankie’s bottom was intense when Nick let her up. There were tears in her eyes as she stood in front of her husband.

“I love you,” Nick told her, his eyes revealing his adoration. “I don’t know what I’d be without you. I know that I ask a lot from you so that I can pursue my calling, and I appreciate that you are willing to fill that role.”

“Of course I’m willing!” Frankie said, momentarily forgetting the sting in her backside. She threw her arms around him. “My calling is to support you in yours. I’ll do better, Nick. I promise.”

He laughed, pulling her onto his lap. She winced as she sat. “Maybe you’d better promise to try.”

“I promise to try,” Frankie told him. She kissed him and snuggled into his shoulder, breathing in his scent.

He held her there for a moment and then let his hands began to wander over her body. Frankie groaned and pushed herself toward him.

They both stayed in the bedroom until the next morning.

Frankie's Back and She's a Bride!

2010-08-17T09:56:00.000-07:00

I enjoyed writing The Preacher's Kid so much that I immediately wrote The Preacher's Bride. This one follows Nick and Frankie through their wedding preparations back in Frankie's home town. Nick has helped Frankie grow up and get a handle on things, but she's not quite ready to walk back into her parents' house as an adult. Nick believes that childish behavior requires an appropriate reaction, and Frankie finds herself over his knee learning how to behave herself with her family. Josh and Jess are back too. Jess doesn't come from a domestic discipline background, though, and Josh knows that's what he wants in his future. Will Jess decide to follow Josh's leadership or will the whole thing blow up in their faces?
In The Preacher's Bride you'll also meet Frankie's sister, Evie. Evie has always been the good girl but deep inside she might be the wildest of all.
The Preacher's Bride is available over at Lulu as a print and a download. You should soon be able to find it for all the hand-held reading devices too.
I hope you love it as much as I do!

The Preacher's Kid, a new series

2010-07-02T08:32:00.000-07:00

I got a buzz in my brain about a year ago about preacher's kids.
I first heard the term PK from a girl I used to know whose father was an evangelical preacher. She grew up in a very strict home, partially because everything she and her sisters did was noted by the church congregation. She was expected to represent her family, her church and even Christianity in general with her behavior. That's some pressure.
So I was thinking about that and I decided to write about a preacher's kid who is looking for herself. Of course she finds love but in a place she wasn't expecting. This one has plenty of spanking, too.

Here's Chapter One of The Preacher's Kid. You can buy it (download or print) on Lulu.

The sofa was on fire.

Frankie stood staring at it for a few moments. She decided that it wasn’t on fire, really. There were no flames. But it was certainly making a lot of smoke. She tried to remember if her cigarette had been the cause of the trouble. She looked down at her hand. Through a mist of vodka, she saw that she no longer held her cigarette. It must be hers, then, that was burning a hole in the cushion.

“I smell smoke,” said a voice. Frankie wasn’t sure where the voice was coming from. It seemed to float toward her through the room. She craned her neck to locate it. Her straight, soft hair fell across her bare shoulders, and she wondered what had happened to her t-shirt.

“It’s the sofa!” someone else yelled.
She felt herself being jostled out of the way as the smoke was cleared. Someone dropped her cigarette into a glass of water.

“Hello,” she said.

The person looked at her. “Frankie? Are you okay?”
“Uh huh,” said Frankie, bobbing her blonde head up and down very slowly and peering into the person’s eyes. This person seemed to have three of them.

“How much have you had to drink?”

Frankie felt two hands on her shoulders that she recognized as belonging to her best friend, Jessica. Frankie sighed with relief.

“Jess!” she exclaimed, breaking into a grin. “What are you doing here?”
Jessica looked worried. “We came here together, Frankie. We came in your car.”

Frankie nodded again. “Okay, then. Are you ready to go home? I’m ready to go home, Jess. I don’t feel so good.”

Jessica shook her head. The motion caused her to slip a little, and she steadied herself. “Oh no, girl. I’ll drive. You’ve had too much to drink.”

“I’m fine!” Frankie protested. She started to take a step toward the door, but then she fell down onto the formerly smoldering sofa. She closed her eyes. “Just lemme rest a minute.”

“Frankie? Frankie?”
Frankie barely heard Jess. She felt like she was floating away.

Then everything went black.

“Good morning.”

Frankie squinted into the bright sun that streamed through the kitchen window. Then she slumped into a chair. It had taken all of her strength to move from the sofa to the kitchen.
The person standing in front of her handed her a cup of coffee. The smell made her stomach turn.

She looked up at the person. He was tall with dark brown hair and a bit of scruff around his face. He wore running shorts and a t-shirt advertising a 10K in New York City.

Frankie blinked several times. “Do I know you?”

The person shook his head. “I don’t think so.” He tossed her something. “Put this on.”

She flushed as she realized she was only wearing a skimpy undershirt. She took the offered t-shirt and pulled it over her head. It was several sizes too big, and the extra fabric fell off her shoulders.
She tried to look around, but the motion made her head hurt. She looked back up at the stranger. “Where am I?”

“You’re at my house,” he said brightly.

She moaned. “Did I… I mean, did we?”

A look of confusion crossed his face, and then he laughed. “No. You spent the night here, but you were alone on the sofa.”

“Oh,” she said. She looked at the coffee and then back at the man. “The party was here.”

“Yes,” he said. “And it looks like it was quite a party.”

“This isn’t your house. This is Mandy’s house,” she protested, remembering. She and Jessica had come here to see Jess’s new friend, Mandy. She was throwing the party.

“I’m Mandy’s brother,” the man said. “I own this house.”
“Oh,” she said again. She closed her eyes.

“But I wasn’t here last night,” he explained. “And apparently Mandy decided to have a wild time in my absence.”

She started to nod and then let her head fall down onto the table. It landed with a thump. “Ow.”

“You okay?” he asked her.

She grunted.

“I’m Nick,” he said. “I’m headed out the door for a jog, but if you need me…”
“No, I’m fine,” she murmured from her spot on the table. Then she lifted her head. “Where’s Jess?”
“I don’t know,” said Nick. “I don’t even know Jess. But Mandy’s not here either, so maybe they’re together? There’s a green Sunfire in the driveway.”

“Mine,” said Frankie.

The phone rang. Nick answered it. Frankie noticed his large hands as he gripped the receiver. “Hello? Uh huh. Where’s Mandy? Yeah.” He put his hand over the phone receiver and turned toward her. “Are you Frankie?”
She nodded and held out her hand. He passed off the phone.

“When you’re done I want to talk to my sister,” he said.

Frankie put the phone up to her ear. “Hello?”

“You okay, Frankie?” It was Jess. “I didn’t mean to leave you there alone. I was a little drunk last night, and you were all passed out on the sofa.”

“Where are you?”
“I’m at the apartment. Mandy took me home.”
Frankie nodded. Her head was still spinning. “Oh. Nick wants to talk to Mandy.”

“Who’s Nick?” Jess asked.

“The brother,” said Frankie. “And the roommate, I guess.”

Then Jess was gone. Frankie handed the phone to Nick. He put it up to his ear, and Frankie dropped her head back down on the table.

“Where are you, Amanda?” Nick demanded.

Frankie groaned. The tone reminded her of her father. She did not want to be reminded of her father, especially when her head was spinning.

“I want you to come now,” he said. “We’re going to talk about this…. No…. no…. You’re nineteen years old! You’re not even old enough to drink.”
Frankie groaned. She hadn’t known Mandy was underage. No wonder the girl had asked them to stop for liquor on the way over.

“No,” said Nick firmly. “Right now.”

He hung up the phone and turned back to Frankie. His gaze reminded her of the police shows she’d seen on television. She half expected him to turn a spotlight on her. “So what went on here last night?”

“I don’t remember,” she said honestly.

“Figures,” he said. “You okay to drive home?”

She felt nauseous. “No.”

Nick sighed and helped her to her feet. “The spare bedroom is just down the hall, first door on the right. You go in there and sleep it off.”

He guided her down the hall, and she found the bedroom.

“And the bathroom’s across the hall,” he said, just before leaving her. “Use it if you feel sick. I’m not interested in cleaning up vomit this morning.”

She nodded obediently. Then she climbed onto the strange bed and fell asleep.

She awoke to a sound she thought was the clap of thunder. Then she thought it might be someone building something outside. As she became more awake and took in her surroundings, she realized what it was. She had heard that sound many times during her childhood.

She sat up and looked at the clock. It was after noon. She sighed, glad she had made it through the morning without being sick. She stood up and crept to the bedroom door. She opened it a bit, and the sound got louder. It was coming from one of the other bedrooms. When she stepped into the hall, she could hear voices with the sound.

“Nick! Nick, no!” a female voice begged. She sounded near tears. “Nicky, please. I’m sorry!”

The cracking sound got faster and louder. “This is never going to happen again,” said Nick.

“It won’t! It won’t!” the girl insisted. “Ow! Nicky!”
“No drinking, no parties and no strangers in this house, Amanda,” Nick said, emphasizing his point with some particularly harsh smacks.

“I won’t! I won’t do it again!” Mandy nearly screamed.

The cracks continued, and Frankie closed her eyes. She heard Mandy crying hard. In the sobs, she could also hear an echo of herself when she was back at home over the knee of her father or her own big brother. She slid against the wall and listened.

In a few minutes, it was over. She heard the siblings talking in low voices, but she couldn’t understand what they were saying. She went back into the bedroom and crawled under the sheets.

She pulled the covers up to her neck and let herself relax into the cool sheets. The sounds of the spanking hadn’t bothered Frankie in the least. She had grown up in a family with six children, and there was hardly a day when someone wasn’t getting spanked. Frankie’s own brother, Josh, had even done the honors a time or two when he’d come home from college. In fact, she had no doubt that if Josh were in this bedroom with her, he’d be doing to her exactly what Nick was doing to his sister in the other room.

She smiled and then sighed. She did miss her family. But she reminded herself that this move across the country was exactly what she needed to put her life in order. In Frankie’s small town everyone knew everything she did. To them she would always be The PK, the preacher’s kid. They knew her life story inside and out. They knew that she was the rebellious youngest daughter of Pastor Caro. They watched her like a hawk, daring her to make a mistake.

With everyone just waiting for her to sin, it was no wonder she’d started at such a young age. In the shadow of her gloriously well-behaved older sisters, there was no role for Frankie except to be the bad seed. It was how she got her attention, even if that attention usually involved her bare behind.

For this reason, Frankie had no problem knowing that Nick had just spanked his little sister in the next room. The thought actually made her feel a little bit homesick.

She closed her eyes and rested for a little bit longer. By the time she finally got out of bed, it was nearly two o’clock.

She made her way back into the kitchen, this time feeling much more chipper. Brother and sister sat together at the kitchen table. The house had been cleaned, and everything looked like it was back to normal.

“Hey Frankie,” said Mandy brightly. “Feeling okay?”

Frankie smiled. “Much better, thanks.”
Nick was standing by the microwave. He’d changed into jeans. “You want a bagel or something?”
Frankie nodded and accepted the food gratefully. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes, thankful that there were still several left.

Nick shook his head immediately. “Nope. Not in this house.”

Frankie grimaced. “I did it last night.”

Mandy groaned as her brother shot her a look.

“You’re not doing it now,” said Nick.

Frankie’s anger began to rise. She glared at Nick. “Who says? I’m an adult. I’ll do what I want.”

Nick raised his eyebrows at her. “This is my house,” he reminded her. “And waking up hung over on a stranger’s sofa is not the behavior of an adult, young lady.”

Frankie rolled her eyes and stuffed the cigarettes back into her pocket.

“This is what your friends are like?” Nick asked Mandy.

“Hey, don’t talk about me like I’m not here,” Frankie protested. She looked at Mandy. “Brothers are a pain.”

Mandy started to smirk but then set her mouth into a straight line when she saw her brother watching her. Her eyes laughed when she glanced at Frankie.

Then Nick turned his gaze to the visitor. “As long as you want to be part of the conversation, why don’t you tell me about how you and your friend came to buy alcohol for my teenage sister.”

Frankie shrugged and looked at Mandy. The teen was tall and slender with a mass of brown curls. “She looks twenty-one,” said Frankie helplessly.

Nick was incredulous. “You didn’t ask her?”

Frankie shot her hands up. “Hey! I’m not on trial here.”

“You could be,” Nick growled, his dark eyes zeroing in on her. “Buying alcohol for minors is illegal.”

“Wait,” said Mandy with a sigh. “Jess asked. I told her I was twenty-one.”

Frankie looked triumphantly at Nick, but he was focused on his sister.

“You what?”
“I told her,” Mandy said softly. “I told her I was twenty-one.”

Nick shook his head and then folded his arms. He stood there breathing deeply for about thirty seconds. Then he said, “I am going to blister your butt.”

“Nick!” Mandy protested. Her cheeks turned pink.

“’Manda, I am way beyond caring who knows that you get your little hiney spanked,” Nick said threateningly.

Mandy looked like she wanted to crawl under a chair. Her cheeks blazed red. She turned to Frankie. “We come from a very conservative family.”

“You don’t have to explain anything to her,” said Nick. “This is between you and me.”
Frankie ignored him. “It’s okay, Mandy. When I was sixteen, I snuck into a frat party and got drunk on beer. I had to stare at the empty beer can on the floor while my brother smacked my bare behind with a paddle.”

The room went silent. The siblings both stared at her.

“Really?” Mandy breathed. “I didn’t know anyone else had a family like that.”
“Lots of people do,” said Frankie. “Especially back in Georgia. Why do you think I left?”

Mandy laughed. Then she remembered how much trouble she was in, and she looked at the table.

Nick was still staring at Frankie. “I wondered about that accent.”

Frankie smiled. “I’m a Southern Belle.”
Nick laughed, and Frankie was surprised to notice that he had a fantastic smile. “You certainly are,” he said.

Frankie’s eyebrows went up. He seemed to be flirting with her. She glanced at Mandy and then looked back at Nick. “Don’t you think she’s been through enough?”
Mandy looked up hopefully.

“No,” said Nick.

Frankie smiled. “You are just like my brother, Josh.” She pursed her lips together. “Tell you what? You let Mandy off the hook this time, and I’ll buy you lunch.”

Both girls looked at Nick expectantly. He seemed to consider this offer for a moment. Then he said. “Okay. Just this once.”

Mandy breathed a sigh of relief.

“But if this ever happens again, you are in real trouble,” he told his sister, his voice low and serious.

She nodded solemnly. When Nick had turned away from them, she mouthed the word thanks. Frankie winked at her.

Nick stepped into the hallway to pull on a jacket. When he returned, he addressed Frankie. “Come on.”

She looked up. “Where?”

“You promised me lunch,” he said. “You drive.”

Frankie laughed and stood up. Then she smiled at Mandy. “I guess we’re going to lunch. See you later.”
Mandy grinned and watched them leave. Just as the door was nearly shut, it opened again. Nick stuck his head through. “You are grounded,” he told her. “You’re not going anywhere for a week.”

She pretended not to hear him.

A little bit of the Illuminated Discipline Manual

2010-06-21T06:31:00.000-07:00

Here's a little sample of "The Illuminated Discipline Manual" for your entertainment.

Spanking

Spanking is considered by the Illuminated to be the most useful form of discipline. This is because it provides an immediate negative reaction to an undesirable behavior and it can be altered in length and severity so that it is appropriate to a particular situation.

A spanking can take many forms, and we will discuss several here.

Having been raised in the Church of the Illuminated, you have all been spanked during your childhoods. If you are an older sibling in your family, you may have given spankings to younger brothers and sisters. However, spanking your wife is a different experience than spanking a sibling or any child.

Consider first a traditional, moderate spanking.

After you have discussed your wife’s misbehavior with her, you will proceed to uncover her bottom or tell her to do it herself. You will then seat yourself on a chair, a bed, a sofa or another piece of furniture that will allow your wife to be pulled across your lap. Small women can be spanked over your lap on a chair, but larger women will require the support of a sofa or bed. Remember her comfort. You want the pain she experiences to be in her bottom and not because of poor positioning.

Pull your wife firmly across your lap, and do not begin the spanking until you have positioned her appropriately. Most likely you will want your wife’s bottom to be squarely over your lap. Some men prefer to have the bottom positioned slightly more on one thigh. You will discover the positioning that is most comfortable to you.

Once her uncovered bottom is appropriately positioned, place your hand on it. Allowing her to feel the weight of your hand on her bottom sets the appropriate mood for the spanking. Do not allow clenching of the bottom cheeks. If this becomes a problem, spank her on the thighs until she relaxes the muscles in her bottom.

Begin the spanking with a sharp slap to the bottom of one or both of her cheeks. You will concentrate your spanking on the base of her cheeks because that is where she will feel the burn when she sits and because that is the safest place to spank. Some men prefer to spank one cheek and then the other, while other men prefer to spank in the middle of the cheeks.

Unless your wife has a very small bottom, it may become necessary to move the cheeks with one hand while you spank with the other. This is so that you are able to spank the area under her bottom cheeks where she will put much of her weight when she sits. Do not hesitate to spank this entire area. If you are having trouble reaching all of your wife’s bottom, tell her to part her legs so that you can have access to more of it. You can also tilt her bottom upward with her legs straight.

Some husbands will reserve spanking the thighs, especially the tender inside areas, for serious misbehavior or punishment during the spanking. This can be useful if your wife cannot control herself while being spanked. For example, if your wife repeatedly kicks her legs toward your face or reaches back with her hand, you can pull her bottom cheek back and spank hard on the insides of her upper thighs. This will remind her to keep herself under control.

Of course if your wife cannot control herself, you can pin her down by placing one of your legs on top of hers. This way you can wallop her bottom hard without the risk of being kicked.

One technique that works for many couples during a spanking is requiring the young lady to verbally admit to her misbehavior. Her husband will give her bottom several hard spanks and then prompt her to repeat a statement such as “I was a naughty girl to skip prayer meeting today” or “I will not skip prayer meeting again.” Each statement should be followed by hard swats. This will cause your wife to associate her misbehavior with the feeling of being spanked. You can enforce that association by saying something like, “This is what will happen every time you skip prayer meeting” or “girls who skip prayer meeting have their bottoms spanked.”

Some women respond to scolding while being spanked, while others are so focused on the spanking that they cannot hear what you are saying anyway. You will learn what is best for your wife.

Over time you will learn when to end the spanking. You will want to spank your wife to the point of crying tears of real repentance. When your wife is truly sorry for her actions, you should be able to hear it in her voice.

Most women will require no more than a moderate spanking. Remember that a woman’s response to punishment is based more on the emotional than the physical. If you able to understand her emotions, you will not need to make the spanking severe.

The Illuminated Discipline Manual

2010-06-19T07:29:00.000-07:00

The Church of the Illuminated is a creation of mine that has a special place in my heart. The community and the folks who live there, while obviously fictional, are quite real in my mind.

So I decided recently to go inside my own head and have a conversation with two of the Illuminated men. From there I put together The Illuminated Discipline Manual for men.

You see, whenever a young man and woman want to get married in the Church of the Illuminated, they must attend pre-marital classes in order to prepare themselves to raise a family in the Illuminated tradition.

Part of this class involves teaching the young men of the church how to discipline their wives. If you read part one, "The Church of the Illuminated" you were able to sit in on one of these classes.

Still, young men should have something in writing that they can refer to. This is why they have The Illuminated Discipline Manual. It discusses all aspects of domestic discipline, Illuminated style, including sexual discipline.

I love my Illuminated and I hope you will too!

Layzeee

2010-04-11T06:08:00.000-07:00

It has recently been pointed out to me that I don't post here anymore. That's sorta true. It's not that I don't think about posting - I do, for real - I'm just always... um... I spend pretty much all my free time at Spanking Tube.

Love that site.

I AM working on Smut 2, but I'm finding it hard to decide which stories to include. I've been thinking a lot about punishment other than spanking... the creams and the plugs and all those squirmy things.

I remember years ago reading a story about a young lady being spanked and then being placed bare-bottomed on a running dryer. Does anyone remember that? I've also read about punishment stools (some just hard and some with grooves etc to aggravate a punished bottom).

Of course I'm also still into your regular, average otk spanking.

I actually had a pretty thought-provoking experience the other day. I was out driving, and I was feeling a little rebellious. Now, I do a lot of naughty things, naughtier than this, but I don't usually litter. That day, though, I let a candy wrapper fly out of the window of my car. Then I looked into the rear view mirror and saw a very attractive face staring sternly back at me.

I was startled because I hadn't realized someone was behind me. He just kept staring at me, making me very nervous with his gaze. Then, of course, I started to get a little moist down there because, you know, that's the result of being stared at like I was a bad girl.

Then, oh delicious, we pulled up to a red light. He was right behind me. And if I had any doubt before that he was staring me down, I didn't then. He pulled out a police badge and held it against the window.

Ohhhh.... I bet he didn't mean to turn me on with that move, but did he ever. Since then I've been dreaming about him forcing me to the side of the road and spanking my bottom hard.

Lots of my spanking fantasies involve cars. I fantasize a lot about driving recklessly and being spanked for it by some stranger out on the road (of course then the stranger and I become romantically involved and happily ever after follows). No, in real life I don't drive recklessly, but still... I sometimes drive too fast, and I guess I've accidentally cut a couple people off. So, you know, it's sort of real.

Sigh. Maybe someone could video that for Spanking Tube. Or maybe somebody will just turn it into a story for a future otk short story collection.

Stay happy, gang. I'll be trying to incorporate a little more discipline into my life.

Spanking Smut sneak peek - Emily and the Professor

2010-02-27T14:11:00.000-08:00

Spanking Smut is a collection of two short stories and one longer story. The stories involve spanking and some edgy stuff. Just for you, my blog friends, is the first story. Hope you like it!

__________________________________________________

Emily and the Professor by Jennie May

He was working at his desk when she said it. It slipped out like hot butter on a skillet. She closed her mouth quickly as if she could trap the word in, but she was too late. He heard her.
“Emily!” he bellowed.
She scooted from the tiny kitchen and into the room where he sat. He was grading papers, she knew. He looked up at her and frowned. “What was that?”
“Um…” she didn’t know what to say. She could repeat the offensive word, but she was afraid that would get her into further trouble. She knew she couldn’t lie. That would be a disaster. Could she hope that he wasn’t sure what he had heard escape her lips? “What’s that dear?”
His eyebrows went up, and she knew she wasn’t going to be getting out of this easily.
“We talked about this, Emily,” he told her sternly. It was true. They had first had this conversation when Emily had been a freshman in his first section of French 201. He did not tolerate swearing of any kind in his classes. This was a rule that modern college students found hard to obey. It helped a little that his class wasn’t run in English.
Thomas was a professor with an old-fashioned attitude. He treated his students like they were middle school children rather than young adults. He expected respect and obedience, and he wouldn’t hesitate to throw them out of class if they didn’t show appropriate submission.
That was how he and Emily had first begun a personal relationship. Offered the choice between being tossed out of a class she needed or having to submit to his punishment, she chose the latter. Five years later, they were living together in his comfortable apartment several blocks off campus.
“Come over here so I can slap your face,” he told her gruffly.
Emily swallowed hard but did as she was told. There were times when she wasn’t sure why she participated in this bizarre paternal relationship with him, but there were also times when she knew exactly why she did.
She went to his desk and bent down so that he would not have to move away from his grading in order to punish her. The slap was firm, and it stung. He never slapped her hard enough to whip her head around, just hard enough to demonstrate that he would not be putting up with any nonsense from her.
“That language is unladylike, disgusting and beneath you,” he told her.
“Yes sir,” she answered.
He suddenly looked up at her. “Did you get that paper back from Dr. Johns today?”
She twisted her mouth. “Yes.”
“Well?”
She went to her book bag and found the paper. She was pursuing a Master’s Degree, and Thomas was paying for it. A condition of this kindness was that he had full access to anything related to her academic progress. She handed the paper over to him and then folded her hands to wait for his reaction.
“Gave you a C, did he?” Thomas said with disapproval. He thumbed through the paper. “Well I can’t say I blame him, Emily. There are several careless mistakes here.”
“I know,” she admitted. “I didn’t focus.”
“You know you’ll be punished,” he told her.
“I know,” she said again quietly.
He stood and regarded her with an authoritative stare. “We can’t have you performing beneath your potential now, can we?”
She shook her head. Her hands remained clasped in front of her, but her fingers began to itch with an anxious anticipation of what was to come.
He took off his jacket then and snaked an arm around her body to let his hand rest on her bottom. She breathed in the scent of him, an aroma of peppermint and high quality coffee.
“Where do I punish you, darling?”
She squirmed. She knew he asked her these questions to make her feel embarrassed and small. “My bottom,” she answered.
“In complete sentences please,” he said.
“You punish my bottom, sir.” She was blushing furiously, which made her even more embarrassed.
“How do I punish your bottom, love?”
She closed her eyes. His hand rubbed her bottom harder now and slipped into her crack, pushing the fabric of her skirt along with it. “You spank my bottom.”
“And?”
She grimaced. “You put your finger in… in my bottom.”
He patted her warmly. “That’s right, love. I put other things in there, too. And today I think we’ll have your extra punishment. Do you think you deserve that, Emily?”
She felt her knees go weak. She wanted to protest, to scream. Instead she gave him the answer she knew he wanted to hear. “Yes, sir.”
He took her by the hand. “Come on then. Let’s go punish your bottom for that terrible paper.”
She followed along behind him, the soles of her shoes shuffling on the hard wood floors. He led her into the bedroom they shared.
“Go and get your box, please,” he instructed. He seated himself on the bed and watched her.
She went to her dresser drawer and pulled out a box he had given her at the beginning of their relationship. It was a beautifully crafted wooden case the size of a shoebox. It had been originally meant for jewelry or keepsakes, Emily thought. It was engraved “Emily’s Punishment Chest.”
She handed the box to him and then stood in front of him, waiting. She folded her hands in front of her and lowered her eyes to the floor. She was keenly aware of the room around her and the sensations in it. She could hear the faint murmur of the dishwasher running in the kitchen, and she could hear the breeze blowing outside. She felt her feet rooted toward the floors and her arms seemed to pull from heavily from her shoulders.
Thomas placed the box on the bed next to him and then put his hands on Emily’s hips. He shook his head, his face showing disappointment. “I expect better from you,” he told her.
“Yes sir,” she answered.
“Over my knee then,” he said. He tugged on one arm, and Emily allowed herself to be draped across his lap. Her upper body was supported by the firm mattress that Thomas preferred, and her legs dangled.
Thomas was seventeen years older than Emily, but he was a disciplined man. He kept himself strong morally and physically. He was easily able to punish his young girlfriend. He rubbed her skirt, pushing it up toward her back. Then he fingered the outline of her black panties.
“I’m afraid I’m going to have to hurt your bottom tonight, Emily,” he told her.
She didn’t answer. She felt the soft duvet cover under her arms and her face, and she waited.
Thomas slowly pulled her panties down to her thighs and gave her bottom several affectionate pats. “This bottom was made to be punished,” he told her. He grabbed fistfuls of cheek and squeezed her flesh roughly in his fists until she felt sore. He pulled the cheeks apart to inspect the area between them. He pushed at her bottom hole with his index finger, bringing a soft cry from Emily. He pushed her cheeks back so that he could run his fingers over the smooth skin of her upper thighs.
Emily held herself in place during this humiliating inspection. She closed her eyes and concentrated on the way his fingers felt on her bare skin as they probed and played with her bottom. In spite of her anxiety and in spite of her fear, Emily’s desire was growing.
Thomas began the spanking with explosive swats that rang out in the small bedroom. Emily could feel the heat immediately, and she grabbed the duvet cover hard in her fists.
“We’ll see if sitting in class on a sore bottom will improve your focus,” Thomas said, whaling away on her tender backside.
The tears came fast, as they always did. It hurt terribly when Thomas spanked her, and she knew that her bottom would be swollen and sore when he was finished. After just a few minutes of forceful spanks she was babbling incoherently about being a good girl and always being focused on her schoolwork.
He stopped the spanking for a moment and listened to her cry. “I’m glad that my discipline is getting through to you.” He reached into Emily’s box and picked up a wooden hairbrush. When he tapped Emily’s bottom with it, her tears increased.
“I’m going to make your bottom sore and sorry,” he told her with a tap tap tap of the heavy brush. “I hope you will think about this experience when you are working on your next paper.”
The hairbrush was a dreadful weapon, and Emily was crying out each time it fell on her bottom. Thomas was focusing his efforts on one strip of tender bottom at the base of her cheeks. Emily was soon bucking and bouncing over his lap.
“I’m going to make sure you don’t sit for a week,” he told her. He pushed one hand hard onto her back and used the hairbrush to bruise her bottom with the other hand.
When he finally put the hairbrush down, Emily was a sobbing mess. He didn’t bother talking to her then. He simply placed his hand between her legs and grabbed her by the sex in order to change her position. He lifted her up off the bed and placed her over just one thigh. He had her on her toes then, bent sharply at the waist so that he could easily access her upper thighs.
These he used his hands to spank with gusto, and Emily bawled her way through the next several minutes. When he was finished he told her to get up so that he could have a look at her.
Emily stood in front of him still sobbing. Her skirt fell back over her bottom, and even that felt like an assault.
“Your bottom is nice and red,” he told her gleefully. “That should keep you on track for awhile. Now it’s time for you to lie on your stomach so that I can administer the rest of your punishment.
Emily continued to cry as she climbed onto the bed and dropped to her stomach. Her panties had fallen to her knees. Thomas took her by the hips and lifted her so that he could place a pillow under her pelvis. Then he lifted her skirt so that he could see her bare, hot bottom.
He opened her box again then and took out a large dildo. “I’m going to have to punish you hard with your dildo,” he told her.
She wanted to beg him not to use the horrible object, but she knew it was no use. She cried into the duvet cover.
He was separating her cheeks. “Try to relax now, or this is going to hurt you even more. I’m going to use just a very small amount of lube because you are being punished.”
Emily tried taking deep breaths, but she kept choking on her tears. She felt his fingers invading her bottom hole, and then she felt the dildo push its way in. She tried to relax, but her bottom was stretched and full. She moaned.
“This is what happens when you don’t do your best,” he told her. He thrust the dildo all the way in, and Emily gasped.
“I’m afraid you have to have your little bottom fucked hard with your dildo tonight, Emily.” Thomas told her.
Emily’s tears left a wet mess on the bedding under her face. She felt Thomas take hold of the intrusive dildo and begin to pump it furiously in and out of her bottom hole.
This stretching pain was different than the stinging pain she still felt from her spanking. She tried to stay relaxed, knowing that clenching her cheeks would only make it worse. Thomas pounded her hard as she cried into the bed.
When he was finished, Thomas pulled the dildo out quickly. “You got your bottom fucked,” he announced. He smacked her sore cheeks rapidly, and Emily bucked.
“You stay here and think about what you’ve done,” he told her. With that, he left the room.
Emily was left with her bottom sore inside and out. As her tears began to slow, she pushed one hand down beneath her stomach. She found her clit and began to rub.
She knew that outside, in another part of the apartment, Thomas was on the phone with her professor telling him to change her grade to an A.

Spanking Smut Volume One

2010-02-26T15:28:00.000-08:00

The Spanking Smut is here!

Spanking Smut volume one is now available at Lulu. You can also get it as a download.

The book is packed with spanking and other erotic activities. This one goes further than traditional domestic discipline. The stories in this book involve anal sex, spanking in front of witnesses, pussy spanking and some forceful sex. If you are a spanking traditionalist, this is not the book for you. But if some of your fantasies walk the edgy line, you will enjoy these stories.

I hope you enjoy Spanking Smut! Volume two is on the way.

Depression

2010-02-14T16:09:00.000-08:00

Like many of my spanko friends, I suffer from depression. There are times when I just need to remove myself from the world for awhile.

What do you think? Are kinky folk more likely to have these kinds of issues... or maybe it's just kinky folk who like to write about their kinks?

I haven't seen the same thing in tops, interestingly. It's subs and brats who have the mental illness. Hm...

Anyway, I'm still here. I'm getting back to work on some fiction. I just gotta pull myself up outta the great dark hole.

Thanks for sticking with me.

"Frontal" Discipline

2010-01-25T13:17:00.000-08:00

This is a phrase I've heard thrown around online lately. Apparently it comes from LDD, or Loving Domestic Discipline... or possibly the advanced version known as ALDD.

I think that frontal discipline involves pussy spanking and possibly clit spanking. (Does it work for guys too? Are y'all out there getting your penis spanked?) To my mind this seems awfully sexual, too sexual to be in the punishment realm. But I could be wrong.

I've used pussy spanking in my stories before because I think it really combines eroticism with discipline (real, pretend or somewhere in between). The embarrassment factor is high. There's a Spanking Tube video of a man spanking a woman's pussy. She is face-up on a sofa, and he's sitting next to her. Her bottom is close to where he is sitting. She's got her right leg kind of up on his left shoulder and her left leg splayed out toward his legs... gotta draw a diagram. At one point he holds her pussy lips apart with his left hand and spanks her clit with his right. It's supposed to be disciplinary, but she sure looks like she's enjoying it.

When I think of frontal spanking, I'd think it would include the front of the thighs, too. But I'm pretty sure that's not technically part of it.

Bobbie Tawse has a terrific spanker on her site named Dennis Hunter who just rocks the thigh spanking.

I'm also kind of intrigued by the idea of using rough sex as punishment... although if someone gets wet from rough sex I guess that might not work. It's nice to think about though...

Think I'll do that now.

Anal Sex; The Rest of the Conversation

2010-01-20T18:54:00.001-08:00

Audrey stood nervously shifting from one foot to the other. She was facing the corner, just as she knew David expected.

She heard his footsteps approaching, but she didn't turn to look. She kept her hands folded.

She was wearing a white t-shirt that hung to her hips, exposing her bare bottom cheeks. She felt the cool air on her bare skin, and then she felt David close the space between them.

She felt one hand rough hand fall on her shoulder and the other cup her bottom cheek. He squeezed the plump cheek just a little, and Audrey heard herself gasp.

"I know you don't like to have your bottom fucked," David said calmly as he rubbed her bottom. "I hope this will help you remember to behave yourself in the future."

Audrey didn't answer. She was sure no sound would come out if she tried.

David pushed his hand suddenly between her cheeks, and Audrey jumped. "Where does little Audrey get punished?" he asked her.

"My bottom," she managed to say.

"That's right," he told her. He swatted her firmly, the sound bouncing off the walls like a gunshot. "Bend over the bed."

Audrey shuffled toward the bed and bent over it so that her bottom was pushed out into the room the way David wanted it.

He grabbed her bottom and began to knead and squeeze it with large hands. He was rough, and Audrey squeezed her eyes shut.

"I'm going to put my cock in your bottom," David told her, giving her a smack. She jumped a little, and grabbed the quilt beneath her. "Then I'm going to grab those hips and fuck you good."

Audrey tried as hard as she could to relax as David's cock pushed into the opening of her bottom. She groaned as she felt herself stretch to accommodate him. He wedged himself into her, and she felt tears sting her eyes.

"Now it's time to punish this bad girl," David said. He held onto her hips and began to pump her hard. He showed no mercy, pulling her toward him as he smashed against her.

She was crying almost instantly, both from the extreme discomfort of the act and from the shame she felt from being punished this way. She wanted to beg him to stop, but she knew he wouldn't until he was sure she'd been disciplined.

"Where do naughty girls get fucked?" he asked her firmly, slapping her bottom twice for effect.

"In their bottom," Audrey answered through her tears. The slaps hurt and only added to the pain she felt deep inside her bottom.

David came hard inside her bottom, and Audrey felt completely dominated as she was pushed hard into the bed. When he pulled out, she was sore and uncomfortable.

David turned her around and kissed her. "You behave yourself, young lady," he told her. "I don't mind repeating this if I have to."

Audrey shook her head, "No. I'll be good."

"Climb into bed, then. You need your rest."

He flipped off the light and turned on the restful music on Audrey's CD player. She fell asleep with her bottom sore and her heart content.

Anal Sex Conversation

2010-01-17T21:33:00.000-08:00

I wasn't really going to write more... just kind of a vignette, but so many people have asked for the story to continue that I'm going to write it. I especially thank Nick for his heartfelt plea. :-)

Coming soon - I promise.

conversation

2010-01-09T08:29:00.001-08:00

David stood casually, leaning against wall with his arms folding in front of him.

"What?" Audrey asked with a tremble in her voice. She knew she had been naughty.

"I think this calls for our special punishment," David told her.

Audrey felt her head begin to spin. "No."

David nodded and took a step toward her. He smiled when Audrey took a step back. "What's our special punishment, Audrey?"

Audrey swallowed. "I don't want to say it."

He closed the space between them and kept his gaze steady. "Say it."

She took a deep breath. "You... you want to fuck my.. bottom."

David smiled. "That's right. A good old-fashioned bottom fucking is what you need. Go on into the bedroom. I want you in a t-shirt and nothing else."

Audrey scrambled from the room.

Anal Discipline

2010-01-04T10:58:00.000-08:00

Ohhh what a squishy, potentially squicky topic!

There is such a thing as anal spanking. You've read about this. (I've written about it!) This is where you spank a bottom hole (or have your bottom hole spanked, depending on your particular viewpoint). I like this in sexual ageplay especially. Bottom hole spanking gives a sense of discipline, sexuality and extreme intimacy all at the same time. However I've found that it works better in fiction than in practice. There are practical matters that make the whole process somewhat awkward. You can have the person being disciplined hold the cheeks apart, but that can't last too long. You can also rig some sort of contraption (think duct tape) to keep them apart. Or if you have a small spankee, you can have her bend over in kind of a downward facing dog position, only on her knees, and the cheeks will separate. However those of us with more substantial bottoms find that this doesn't always work. In my experience, the intimacy of the act is delicious but the swats don't feel especially stingy because of the effort involved in exposing the bottom hole. (Any expert bottom hole spankers out there who want to share a technique? In the comments of course... or maybe in person ;-) ).

Anyway all of that is anal spanking. Anal discipline, however, usually implies something being put into the bottom hole. (Some people like the word anus... not me. I like bottom hole or hiney hole myself...)

Anal discipline can be butt plugs aka bottom pacifiers or bottom plugs (or some daddies I know simply call them reminders). These are plastic, glass or rubbery little suckers that pop right into your bottom hole. The smaller ones don't hurt. They are just uncomfortable and embarrassing. Larger ones can stretch your bottom and hurt a lot.

Another possibility for anal discipline is a butt plug made of a ginger root. I'm not an expert on this, but you can find directions all over the internet.

Anal discipline can also mean anal fucking (I apologize to those who don't like the word fuck. I personally enjoy it a lot... although some doms don't share my opinion). You can have your bottom fucked for pleasure, discipline or both. In general, bottom fucking is a very serious expression of dominance or even ownership, depending on your relationship. It doesn't have to hurt in order to be discipline. However if you want it to hurt, you can certainly make that happen through limiting use of lube and through heavy thrusting... oh my, is it getting warm in here?

The same effect, or a bigger effect, can be achieved with a dildo. Some of these are friggin' huge and will definitely get your point across.

To me, anal play is hottest when it's used for either real or play discipline. The real draw for me is the authority the top/Daddy takes in violating my bottom hole in the first place. Any discomfort is secondary to the general feeling of being put in my place. Just a finger up my bottom can be incredibly exciting... actually just the words "Do you need my finger up your bottom?" make me very drippy. Hm... getting light-headed just thinking about it.

So ends my discussion of anal discipline. I'd love to hear your thoughts.

Ramblings about boundaries

2010-01-03T17:30:00.001-08:00

So I'm thinking a lot about smut, and I'm finding myself wondering about lines in the sand as far as what is and isn't appropriate in an erotic book. I realize that each person has his or her own idea of what is too much. I guess for lots of people even spanking is going too far. Then again, some people are repulsed by the idea that stories about sex even exist!
There are issues that pop up in spanking stories that don't push my buttons, and there are some that even repel me. Like I said in my previous post, I'm not much of an enema or diapers girl. However, I don't judge anyone for his or her particular brand of kink. In real-life activity, the two important words are consenting adults. In stories, I don't even think consent is necessary. I realize that some would disagree.
So I suppose that's one area that pushes the envelope. Some don't want to read a story that includes lack of consent. For some, myself included, it can be hot under the right circumstances. But then are we talking about non-consentual spanking, non-consentual sex or both? And does it matter?
For me a non-consentual spanking (in fiction) is a turn-on. Rape, in the traditional sense, isn't. However the rape fantasy is huge among women, and should they be able to write and read about it if that's what they want? (And is it different if a man has fantasies of raping a woman?)
Daddy/daughter is a huge turn-off for some people, even when it is quite clear that the story does not involve incest. Marking and blood are other turn-offs for many spankos.
I know that many people believe that what I write is sick. Believe me, I know! You should read some of the responses I get to my stories. I write what turns me on. It turns out that it turns others on, too.
But do I know where my personal line is? I guess not. There is nothing that turns me on that doesn't feel appropriate to write about. So on I go...

Resolved

2010-01-02T07:33:00.000-08:00

I'm not so great with New Year's resolutions, but I've been thinking about a few things this year.

I think that really being open and free with my sexuality is number one on the list. Why be inhibited? Sexuality means something different to each of us, so why not embrace what it means to me?

A friend of mine is resolving to find a Daddy this year. To this I say BLAH. (I mean great for HER!). As for me, I'm starting to recognize the freedom and joy of being on my own. Sure I have a couple of dear friends who like to get paternal now and then. :-) And I am certainly not opposed to making more friends and connecting to daddy types and others for fun and entertainment. I wouldn't want to be without sex, particularly my kind of sex, for goodness sake. But sometimes in the past when I've been Daddied up with someone (you like that phrase?) I've felt like I was many missing out on other experiences.

My friend says this is because I have yet to find the right Daddy.

Anyway, the name of the game in 2010 is freedom and self-expression!

Writing Smut

2009-12-23T03:50:00.000-08:00

I'm working on something I'm going to call "Spanking Smut". I was really working on a different project, but then this one started taking over my brain.

"Smut" is going to be a few edgy short stories. Some of what I write is pretty intense and includes heavy sexuality as well as spanking.

I love a good, no-frills domestic discipline scene. But I also don't mind taking my fantasies to any dark place they happen to go.

All spankos are not alike. Some are purists and don't want anything in the mix except for spanking. Others love everything, the dirtier the better.

I like to include certain elements in my intense spanking stories. I like to write about anal play and even anal discipline. I like key words (naughty, young lady) and I like the embarrassing edge of public play.

I don't get into diapers, enemas or potty stuff. Lots of spankos like the enema play, but it's not for me.

What I like the best is sex. My best fantasies involve rough, almost forced sex.

And that's what's on Jennie's mind today.

Let it Snow!

2009-12-21T16:12:00.000-08:00

Audrey clung to David's arm and pulled him through the mall. "Come on!"

"I'm an old man," David joked. "I can't move that fast."

Audrey grinned and ran ahead toward the sporting goods store. She stood outside in front waiting for David to catch up.

"Here they are!" Audrey announced, making her way to a row of ski pants. "This is the kind I want."

David studied the ski pants. They were a bib overall style. "I don't know," he said.

"What do you mean?" Audrey crossed her arms and made a pouty face. "I need these to play in the snow. Otherwise my pants will get all wet when I make a snow angel."

"I like taking off your wet pants and panties when you come in from playing in the snow," David told her.

"Daddy!" Audrey whispered, looking around to make sure that no one could hear. She was a grown-up little girl at home, but she didn't like David saying embarassing things out in public.

David smiled and turned toward another display. "How about these?"

Audrey studied the display. "They're just pants. They don't go all the way up."

"Exactly," David told her. "It's much easier to get to your bottom this way."

Audrey rolled her eyes. "I like the other ones."

"You're getting these," David told her. "Look they have them in pink."

Audrey brightened at that thought.

"Let's go try them on," David said.

Audrey grabbed a pair of pink ski pants, size small. "You can't come in the women's dressing room."

"There's no one here," said David. "No one else went out shopping in a snow storm."

Audrey was ready to argue when a young salesman approached them. "Can I help you?" he asked, not looking like he wanted to help them at all.

David motioned toward the dressing room. "Mind if I go in there with her?"

The kid broke out in a grin. "Yeah, go ahead."

David took Audrey's hand and went with her into the fitting rooms.

"That guy thinks we're going to have sex," Audrey said.

David smiled. "Maybe we are."

Audrey blushed. She stood in front of a large mirror and began to pull the ski pants up over her cotton leggings. David watched with approval as she turned this way and that in front of the mirror.

"Very cute," David said. He patted her bottom through the thick pants. "Let's try them out."

Before Audrey could ask what he was talking about, David had pulled her into one of the small dressing rooms. He pushed her up against the wall and tugged down her ski pant, her leggings and her panties in one smooth motion.

Audrey started to squeal, but David told her firmly to shush. He began to spank her bare bottom lightly, barely making a sound.

"Imagine me spanking you out in the snow," David said.

Audrey groaned and wiggled her bottom. She could definitely imagine that.

"I'll spank your bottom red and then make you dip your hot bottom into the cold snow," he told her. He placed his hand between her bottom cheeks, and she wiggled.

He gave her bottom a pinch. "Hold still," he commanded. He rubbed her bottom all over and then began to massage her bottom hole with his finger.

She groaned again and pressed herself closer to the wall.

David's finger invaded her bottom hole. "Push back," David commanded.

"No... take it out," Audrey groaned.

"Push back or I'll pinch your bottom black and blue," David said in a low voice. "And then I'll make you push back anyway."

Audrey shut her eyes and obeyed, pushing back toward David to feel his finger go deeper into her bottom.

"There you go," he said. He began to pump forcefully in and out of her bottom hole. Then he took his other hand off of her shoulder and reached around to rub her clit.

Audrey wiggled and moaned her way to an orgasm. David continued to pump into her bottom and rub her clit as she writhed against the dressing room wall.

When she had recovered, she turned around to face him. He helped her pull up her pants and then walked her out into the store to tell the young salesman that these were the ski pants they wanted.

A Domestic Discipline Story

2009-12-17T04:34:00.000-08:00

This is the first story in my little domestic discipline collection, Car Trouble. These stories are straight DD, a subject I enjoy tremendously. This first story features Ali and Jim, a very traditional DD couple. The other stories offer different kinds of domestic discipline relationships.

I like the idea of a conservative, religious DD couple. There's something about it that pushes my buttons. I also like the idea of a "typical" modern couple being into domestic discipline.

These stories are male HOH, female sub. It's not that I think that's the only way to be. I support all adult spanking, no matter the gender or sexuality! :-) It's just that M/F is what I like, so it's what I tend to write.

I hope you like the story!

Texting Trouble
By Jennie May

Ali pulled out of the gas station and made a right turn. She’d managed to get her errands out of the way quickly and was thankful to be almost home. She reached for the radio to crank up the country music when she heard her phone beep.
She glanced down at her bag and pulled out her sleek, shiny cell phone. It had been a birthday present from her husband. Jim was always up on the latest technology and was sweet about buying her gadgets that would make her life easier.
The message was a text from Jim. It said, “Hey babe. Did you pick up milk?”
She grinned and texted him back, her fingers flying on the tiny keys. “Yes, I did.”
She used the texting feature on her phone so often that she’d had to start wearing her fingernails shorter. One of her errands that day had been to stop by the nail salon and get them painted a pretty pink. She loved the way the soft color looked with her long, auburn hair.
The phone beeped again. She pushed the message button as she absently turned a corner. The message said “Are you at home?”
She froze. She knew what he was really asking. When Jim bought her the phone he had laid down the rules. There was to be no talking while driving unless she was using a hands-free device. That rule was easy because Ali liked her little blue-tooth earpiece and because it was illegal to drive and speak on a cell phone at the same time. She knew that they couldn’t afford the ticket that would result if she was pulled over. Another of Jim’s rules, however, was harder for her to follow. Jim had told her that she was not allowed to text and drive.
She knew that Jim was right. Texting took her eyes off the road and her attention off her driving. It was the instant nature of texting that made her do it, though. She could give an immediate response to a question or statement by just firing off a few letters. It was so quick and easy that she rarely thought about it before responding.
Ali considered her options. She could lie, tell Jim she was still parked at the gas station. She knew she wouldn’t do that, though. She just couldn’t lie to her husband, and if for some reason he found out she was lying she would be in much bigger trouble than she was already. She decided not to respond at all.
She was only a few blocks from home. As she turned onto their street she could see that Jim’s SUV was already parked in the driveway. She pulled her little sedan in beside him and turned off the engine. She grabbed her bags and got out of the car, brushing Jim’s big black vehicle as she did. It was warm, which meant he’d only just gotten home himself. She let herself into the house and went to the kitchen to put her groceries away.
He came into the kitchen from the hallway. He had his jacket off, and his tie was loosened. Ali knew he’d been in the process of changing out of his work clothes. He pulled her in for a kiss, and she purred.
Jim was an average height, a few inches taller than his wife. He had dark hair and dark eyes that could smolder with passion when he was aroused or angry. However he was normally very calm and controlled. His personality just didn’t lend itself to flying off the handle. He held Ali in his arms and studied her. “You didn’t answer my text.”
She shrugged a little and smiled. “I was almost home.”
He moved his hands to her waist. “You were driving?”
She sighed, and then she nodded.
He kissed her again. “Are you finished unpacking your groceries?”
“Yes,” she said in a small voice. There had only been a few things to put away.
“Then let’s go talk in the bedroom,” he told her, taking her hand in his.
Ali’s heart thumped. She knew what Jim meant by talk, and it wasn’t talking. Well, maybe Jim would talk for a while. She followed her husband down the hall and into their room.
Jim and Ali had been married two years and had been in their house for only a few months. This was the house where they planned to have a family within the next few years. They were a very traditional couple and had been from the beginning of their relationship. They were both raised in traditional families, and they both wanted their own family to mimic the way they grew up.
In their eyes part of being a traditional couple was that the man was the head of the house, and the woman okpsubmitted both to his directions and his discipline. This was something Ali knew she wanted in a relationship long before she met like-minded Jim.
Jim had been the perfect companion for her. He was steady and easy-going while she had a tendency to get irrational. She brought creativity and spark into his life while he brought order and stability into hers. He was a true leader, always giving her space to express her opinions and giving into her preferences whenever possible. He did not hesitate to correct her, though, especially when he felt that her safety was at risk.
Jim pulled her into their bedroom and sat on the bed’s homemade quilt, a wedding gift from Ali’s grandmother. He placed his hands on Ali’s hips and pulled her toward him, standing her between his parted legs.
“Well?” he asked. “You have anything to say about this?”
Ali took a breath and then shook her head. “I was texting while I was driving. I shouldn’t have done it.”
Jim nodded. “Okay. But I want to know why you did it. Didn’t I tell you it was against the rules?”
Ali sucked on her bottom lip. “Yes.”
“And don’t you know that it’s dangerous?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
Jim shook his head. “Then why?”
Ali thought about it and couldn’t find a reasonable answer. “I just wasn’t thinking,” she finally admitted.
Jim frowned. He appeared to be thinking. “Honey, you need a spanking to help you remember to think before you act.”
Ali wasn’t surprised but she felt herself tremble just the same. She knew he was right. She had disobeyed, and she had to face the consequences. If Jim let these things go, he wouldn’t be the husband she’d wanted.
Jim looked her in the eye, and his voice was stern. “I make rules for your protection. You made a promise to obey when we got married, and I am going to hold you to that promise. Do you understand?”
She swallowed and nodded, forcing herself to meet his eyes. She knew that disobedience was the same as breaking her wedding vows, and that was very serious.
“Driving is a privilege, young lady,” Jim told her. “It’s one that I will take away from you if you can’t handle it responsibly.”
“Please don’t,” Ali said quietly. She liked the freedom of having her own car and being able to go out when she wanted. She knew that Jim could easily take her car away. She didn’t have a job to go to. They’d agreed when they were engaged that she would make their home her focus. She used the car for shopping and other activities. If she didn’t have a car, Jim could always take her when he wasn’t working.
“I’m not going to do that now,” he said. “I do want you to know that it could happen, though. I’m very serious about you driving safely. Let me ask you something. Do you think you would be texting while driving if our children were in the car?”
Ali had never thought about it before, but she knew that once she and Jim had a family she wouldn’t take those kinds of risks. She shook her head. “No.”
“Why not?”
“Because it wouldn’t be safe,” she told him.
He nodded. “It’s not safe for you either.”
“I know,” she said softly.
He moved his large hands from her hips and put them around her smaller hands. “This time you’re getting a spanking. Do it again and you’ll get another spanking and lose your driving privileges for two weeks. Got it?”
“Yes,” she answered. Her bottom was tingling already, and her knees were starting to feel a little squishy. Spankings from Jim were nothing to take lightly. He was the kind of man who did everything the best way he knew how, including disciplining his wife. His intention was to make her regret her actions, and he wouldn’t stop until he was sure that had happened.
“Go get your paddle,” he told her.
She felt a stab of anxiety in her chest, but she obeyed. She opened the top right drawer of her dresser where she kept odds and ends, and she pulled out a small wooden paddle. It was shaped like a stirring spoon, and she knew that it was a lot more dangerous than it looked. She handed it to Jim, and he placed it on the bed. Then he pulled her down across his lap so that her chest and head were supported by the bed but her legs were dangling. Her bottom was centered on his lap. He flipped up her wool skirt and put his hand on her panties.
Ali felt embarrassed, ashamed and anxious. She was already on the verge of tears, knowing she had put herself in this childish position by her own lack of maturity. Jim’s hand on her bottom made her feel helpless.
She cringed when he pulled her panties down to reveal her bare bottom. Jim had sometimes spanked her on her panties, and a few times even on the seat of her skirt, but he spanked her bare bottom for serious infractions.
Jim wasted no time. He began spanking her hard and fast, the swats following each other in fractions of a second. She felt the heat immediately, and this was followed by a sting so painful she felt like she had carpet burn. It spread over and into her bottom like olive oil on bread until it saturated her cheeks. The tears spilled and collected on the quilt beneath her, and it wasn’t long before she was sobbing.
Jim stopped for a moment and let her get herself under control. “You understand that I’m serious about this?”
“Yes,” she cried incredulously. How could she not understand? Her bottom was throbbing.
She felt the paddle tap against her sore bottom, and she sucked in her breath and began to babble through her tears. “Jim, I’m sorry. Please don’t paddle me. I’m so sorry.”
“Tell me you won’t text and drive anymore,” Jim said.
“I won’t!” she promised.
Jim brought the paddle down with a loud thwack. Ali jumped and cried out.
“Tell me again,” Jim commanded.
“I won’t text and drive,” Ali shrieked. “I won’t!”
Jim swatted her hard. “Again.”
“I won’t! Jim, I’m sorry! I won’t do it again.”
She felt the next paddle swat low on her bottom cheeks. It hurt. “I won’t text and drive,” she said quickly, squeezing her eyes shut. “I promise.”
He paddled her hard several more times, and she found herself thrust into a storm of tears. When he was finished, he stood her in front of him. She was still crying hard, and her bottom hurt. Her hands flew behind her to try in vain to rub the sting from her sore bottom.
Jim brought her down to sit on his lap, and she flinched as her bottom made contact with his pants. He brushed the hair away from her wet eyes and kissed her on the nose.
“We’re not going to have to do this again, are we?”
She shook her head, although she suspected that sometime over the next fifty or so years she would find herself in this position. She knew that it would most likely be sooner than later. However she knew that the purpose of his question was to confirm that she had learned her lesson about texting while driving, and she had. It was one mistake she was not going to repeat.
She put her arms around him then and rested her head on his shoulder. He held her tightly for several minutes before gently placing her on the bed. “I’ll make dinner,” he told her.
She smiled up at him and nodded. When he had left the room she allowed herself a few minutes to reflect on this, the marriage she’d dreamed about since she was a child. Then she put her pajamas on and went out to join him for dinner.

I'm Back!

2009-12-16T07:58:00.000-08:00

Yes, I had a very good excuse. :-)

I was out of the country on some personal business, and I wasn't able to update.

But I did write a new collection of short stories!

Car Trouble is a group of domestic discipline stories relating to the craziness of cars. I hope you like them.

I'll post a little teaser soon. ;-)

Thanks to everyone who e-mailed me and commented. I appreciate that you are thinking of me.

I Wonder...

2009-11-14T12:38:00.000-08:00

in a 24/7 relationship does anyone decide to "take a break". What if I wake up one morning and just don't want to do it that day? Is it like exercise - do you have to do it even when you don't want to?

I wonder if it would take some of the allure off of it if I knew I could call it off at any random moment. I mean, part of IT is that it's REAL. That's why it's 24/7.

A fictional Daddy would instinctively know when to back off, but then fictional Daddies are perfect. A real Daddy might not know what to do.

Hm...

Lazy

2009-11-13T12:44:00.000-08:00

I still haven't bought the cap cream. And THAT was a post.

"OUCH! HEY! What was that for?"

"I think you know."

:-P

Promises

2009-11-12T11:05:00.000-08:00

"I thought you said you were going to post every day."

"What?"

"Turn off the TV."

"Whyyyyy?... Ouch! Okay, fine. What?"

"You said you were going to post every day. You said if you were going to do this blog thing you would do it right."

"I know, but I got busy."

"Busy with what?"

"Mmmm.... well, I did some laundry."

"You did a load of laundry. That's busy?"

"I did some other stuff!"

"Such as?"

"I don't know. I can't remember."

"Stand up and turn around. Pants down."

"Noooo...."

"NOW."

"Ow!"

"Panties down too. Hurry up."

"This is not fair! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow!"

"You said you'd post every day."

"I will! Geez! I'll post every day! OWWWWW!"

"Good. See that you do. No, don't pull them up. I think you can be bare-bottomed for the rest of today. I might feel like reminding you again."

"Grrrr."

"What was that?"

"Nothing."

"Good. Go on and post something."

Too lazy...

2009-11-09T12:33:00.000-08:00

to pick up some Capsaicin cream. But I will...

The First Time

2009-11-08T08:48:00.000-08:00

I was thinking today about the first time someone made me do something by spanking me. It was about 10 years ago, and I was new to real-life spanking games. I'd been out with a friend and we were back at my apartment. I don't even remember what it was he wanted me to do, but whatever it was I balked. I remember him spanking me, over my jeans, ferociously. And then I remember being completely and totally in his power. I did exactly what he wanted. Through fear? Or something else?

Whatever it was, it was absolutely mind-blowing. I guess some people would feel anger or anxiety in a situation like that, but I felt incredible. I felt so free. Funny.

Capsaisin Cream

2009-11-07T13:59:00.000-08:00

Have you heard about this stuff?

Apparently it relieves pain in those with arthritis but causes pain in spankos. Hm...

People use it for times when a spanking isn't possible. As in "I can't spank you now. Go rub some of this burning cream on your bottom."

I think an experiment is in order.

Spoons

2009-11-06T12:25:00.001-08:00

What is it about wooden spoons?

The spoon has got to be my favorite implement other than a bare hand. I don't know why. I guess it's a mixture of the idea of childhood/home/cooking and a really mean swat. Also there's the spontaneity of getting spanked with something that happens to be hanging around the house anyway.

Also you can gaze at them at Target and no one thinks you're weird. :-)

Happy Friday

Next Year

2009-11-05T04:36:00.001-08:00

Damn Yankees.

Negotiations

2009-11-04T13:46:00.000-08:00

"Hm... Let's see. You stayed up past bedtime. How many paddle swats is that worth?"

"Um... two on my pants?"

"Two? I don't think so. I think six on your panties"

"No! Um... three? On my pants."

"Six. On your panties."

"That's not fair! It wasn't such a big deal. You're mean."

"So it's six on your panties?"

"No, it is not. Um... four. Four on my pants."

"How about six on your panties?"

"You aren't doing it right!"

"Doing what right?"

"You keep saying the same thing! We're negotiating."

"Negotiating?"

"Yes. You have to change your answer."

"Oh, okay. I'll change my answer to seven on your bare bottom."

Pause.

More pause.

"Argh! Fine. Six on my panties."

Autumn Haiku

2009-11-03T04:06:00.000-08:00

Spanked over pumpkins
Stems push up between my legs
Familiar feeling

I Heart Johanna Lindsey

2009-11-02T06:08:00.000-08:00

Yes, I do read "real" literature. :-P

However I also love a good, trashy romance novel. One of my very favorite romance writers is Johanna Lindsey. She's been turning this stuff out for years, and I have loved her since I first picked up one of her novels.

The reason I'm singing her praises here is that I'm pretty sure she's a spanko. She includes a spanking scene or a reference in many of her books. I will often see a place in a Lindsey novel where a spanking scene could easily be inserted, and I wonder if she didn't write one for her own private version of the book.

She has one series that involves another planet whose inhabitants more or less practice domestic discipline.

The stuff in between the spanking scenes is also cause for squirmy pleasure. Her heroes tend to be larger than life, perfect specimens of the male kind. Her heroines are smart and feisty.

Johanna Lindsey makes excellent reading for this oversexed girl.

Coveting My Neighbor's Ass

2009-11-01T04:24:00.000-08:00

My neighbor is a size zero. I like to imagine her in a department store.

Saleslady: Yes, I can find that for you. What size?

My neighbor: Size zero. You see, I am so tiny that I have no size at all.

Saleslady nods appreciatively and realizes that anything in the store will look incredible on my neighbor.

My neighbor is also very pretty. I'd hate her except that she's sweet, too.

Men who should know tell me that spanking a size zero is like spanking a rock. They claim to prefer a nice, soft round bottom.

Let's hope this is true.

Audrey and Cinderella

2009-10-31T10:33:00.000-07:00

Audrey twirled again. Her lovely blue gown was absolutely stunning. The skirt flared out into the room, very elegant looking until it caused her to knock something over like a picture frame or a cat.

She placed her golden crown on her head and smiled at herself in the mirror. She made an excellent princess.

She took the stairs quickly, almost tripping over her glass slippers. David was waiting for her in the entry hall.

"You are beautiful," David told her. He was dashing in his Prince Charming costume. He might have been a few years older than the fairy tale prince, but Audrey found him every bit as wonderful.

"Thank you," she said, managing a curtsy. She tried to sink low to the floor, but her knees would only bend so far.

David grinned at her. "That dress looks a bit like a wedding cake."

Audrey rolled her eyes at him. "You're obviously not familiar with ball gowns." The bodice of her dress was light blue with tiny, sparkling rhinestones scattered throughout. The skirt was made up of rows and rows of silky blue and white fabric, gathered here and there for a draped look. She'd put on a thick, stiff petticoat under the skirt so that it would stand out as far as possible. It was so large that she found herself having to hold her arms out like one of those little pageant girls on television.

David leaned over and kissed her. "If I kiss you, do you fall asleep or something?"

"Wrong princess," she corrected him. "And she woke up when the prince kissed her, silly. Are you ready to go to the party?"

She was excited to attend this particular Halloween party because so many of her friends were going to be there. She couldn't wait to show off her Cinderella gown. Her best friend, Molly, was planning to come as a butterfly. They'd worked on her sparkly wings for weeks.

"There's something we need to do before we go," David told her.

Audrey looked at him skeptically. His tone implied that this wasn't something she would enjoy.

David got that parental look about him, and Audrey squinted her eyes. "What?"

"Do you recall the last time you and Molly were out together?" he asked her.

She nodded. So they'd gotten into a little bit of trouble that had involved a little spaghetti landing into a strange woman's handbag. So what? The lady really hadn't been very nice and probably deserved to scoop pasta out of her coin purse. Audrey giggled a little at the thought, but David ignored her.

"I'm going to remind you to behave yourself with Molly tonight," David announced.

Audrey's bottom involuntarily tingled. "I'll be good," she promised. She could hear her voice rising in pitch.

"I know you will," David told her. "This is going to help."

Audrey glared at David. It wasn't fair to spank her when she hadn't even done anything! She knew it was pointless to argue, though, because she'd tried that before.

"Put your hands on the coffee table," David instructed. He was regarding her a little quizzically, and Audrey soon found out why.

She bent over to place her hands on the coffee table as instructed, and her skirt flew up into the air.

David began to laugh. "I was hoping that would happen?"

Audrey stood and turned to him, hands on her hips. "What?"

"Get back down there," David said, assisting her back into position. "Your skirt is flared around you and making a perfect frame for your pantied bottom. It's like a peacock."

Audrey started to stand again, but David was ready for her. He held her back down. "Stick out that bottom," he commanded. "And don't move. This is a perfect picture."

He meant that literally she discovered as she heard the click of the camera behind her. David pulled her panties down then and arranged them at her knees. Then the camera went off again.

Audrey sighed deeply.

"Hush," David told her. He moved to her side and began walloping her naked bottom with his large hand. "Let's get this tush nice and red for another photo."

"No!" Audrey insisted, but her worries about photography soon faded as her bottom began to warm.

David was scolding her. "You are not to get into any crazy situations with Molly, got that?"

Audrey didn't say anything. She was wondering what was considered crazy.

David spanked her hard three times in exactly the same spot. She screeched. "Yes! I got it!"

"Good," he said. He increased the level of his spanking until she was dancing and wiggling back and forth. She kicked off a glass slipper, and David had to stop spanking her because he was laughing too hard.

"My bottom hurts!" she complained. It did hurt, and she knew it would be even worse if she tried to sit at the party. She wasn't sure she could sit in the dress, though, so maybe it didn't matter.

David finished his spanking with a volley of swats to the lower part of Audrey's cheeks, and she wailed in protest. Then he put her panties back up and pulled her to a standing position.

He tilted her face up so that she was looking into his eyes. "Your bottom sting?"

Audrey nodded, a pout on her lips.

"Good," he said. "That should remind you to stay out of trouble."

"Yes sir," Audrey sighed. She couldn't rub her burning bottom because of the layers of fabric that were in the way.

"I put a little something in your bag as an extra reminder," David told her.

She eyed him. "What is it?"

"Your purple plug," he answered casually. "If you start to act up, we'll go into the bathroom and put it in."

"Nooooo," she whined. She hated having that big plug in her bottom.

"You want to wear it now instead?" David asked her sternly.

She shook her head violently. The damned plug could stay in her bag.

David's look softened. He kissed her forehead. "You really do look beautiful. Go fix your makeup, and we'll be on our way."

Audrey made her way to the bathroom with a little smile on her face and a little glow on her bottom.

Religious Kink

2009-10-30T08:46:00.000-07:00

I've been thinking a lot about why religion is a sexual kink for me... or maybe it's not. It just plays easily into my existing kinks. (Religious people having sex wouldn't do much for me, but people spanking with a religious background would).

Interestingly this is all completely separate from my own religious/spiritual leanings. I don't combine them in my mind at all.

I will admit here that I like to read what's become known as Christian Domestic Discipline or CDD. It's really bizarre to me that many people who are just fine with Domestic Discipline are freaked out by CDD. The difference between the two is that CDD is portrayed as accepted/preferred/mandated (depending on who you talk to) by God. Also those who write about these topics on-line often (always?) say that they are living this lifestyle.

I can see that the tendency to be bothered by CDD is a matter of consensuality and also reality. IF this is real (I have to wonder...) then maybe these women are being sort of brainwashed by their churches to participate even though they don't want to. And of course a lack of consent is just violence, and that's not acceptable.

So... I can see the objection. However, I don't think that there is any more to object to in CDD than there is in regular DD. A woman can be raised in a DD household and made to believe that this is what she should do, or she can be talked into it by a man even if she is against it. This would, of course, also be unacceptable.

The people I talk to about CDD are very similar to people I've met (online only) who practice DD. It is a matter of consensuality. You don't see women online saying that they wouldn't let their husbands spank them except that they think God wants them to. It is just as consensual as DD - an agreement to accept and give discipline made before the actual event. It's just that CDD couples say that they believe this is God's way to a happy marriage (DDers will often say it's their own way to a happy marriage).

If you ask me, there's a huge amount of sexuality in CDD. But if you ask others, they will tell you there's not. And what do I know? This is not something I practice. However just the fact that it involves fiction is a good indication.

I am not a right-wing conservative type... um, at all. So why do I want to read about those who are? I'm not sure, but I think it has to do with this fantasy of security I find in these really conservative groups where people separate themselves from the rest of the world. Do I think this is real security? Absolutely not. However I am very much attracted to the fantasy of it.

CDD fiction is full of these perfect, God-fearing, highly ethical men. (Do conservative Christian men, in general, fit this description? In my experience, that's a big loud NO). But how I love those guys in my fiction. These men are infallible. They are intelligent, friendly and authoritative. They would never, ever cheat on their wives. These are some terrific made-up men.

I guess if I'm being completely honest, the lack of consent does appeal to my fantasies too. (Not reality, fantasy.) The idea of a place/group where women get spanked and have no choice is appealing sexually... again, in fantasy. Does this make me an evil, anti-feminist, rotten tomato? Maybe, but I don't care. What turns me on is what turns me on, and I'm not going to apologize for that.

So to summarize my little self-indulgent rambling (that's what a blog is for, yes?) I like CDD fiction. I like it a lot. It pushes my buttons. Do I fear that CDD fiction is somehow putting real women in danger? No. If there are conservative Christians who are putting women in these kind of positions against their will, I am absolutely not in favor of that (although I suppose there is a question of an adult having the right to put herself in certain situations based on her religious beliefs and what she wants.... but that's another thought journey). But I don't think CDD fiction has anything to do with wife-battering. It's about sex, and that's the way I like it!

Why I'm Illuminated

2009-10-29T09:22:00.000-07:00

I mentioned before that The Church of the Illuminated stories are my favorites of the stories that I have written.

I've been writing spanking stories almost since I can remember. I have a few stuffed away that were written when I was as young as 7 or 8 years old. I've experimented with a lot of different styles, and of course my knowledge and tastes have changed over the years. The main theme remains the same.

Anyway The Illuminated came from an old fantasy that started in my mind long ago. I grew up not too far from what could only be described as a religious compound. I didn't know any of these people, and I was fascinated. The women wore long skirts, and the children didn't go to public school.

I began making stories up about them in my mind and then writing them down. Slowly these people morphed into my Illuminated.

Of course I realize that the real group that started it all is surely nothing like the group in my mind, but I rather like my version of a fun-loving, sex-crazed, wife-spanking religious cult. I hope you like it, too!

Thrice Illuminated is available now at Lulu in print or as a download. The first chapter is in this post.

Distracted

2009-10-28T06:38:00.000-07:00

Well, I'd planned to get Illuminated 3 up today... but then I wasted a bunch of time watching videos on Spanking Tube instead.

Yum.

Thrice Illuminated

2009-10-27T09:24:00.000-07:00

Of the stories I've written, the Church of the Illuminated stories are my favorites. I'll tell you more about why later. Right now I wanted to give you a glimpse into Part 3, which I'm planning to make available tomorrow. Here's the first chapter:

Church of the Illuminated Part Three
by Jennie May

Chapter One

“Let’s get going,” Eric called from the living room of our one bedroom apartment.
I stuck my head out of the bedroom door. He was sitting on the sofa, absently flicking through the channels with his remote. He looked annoyed. I’d just finished showering, drying my hair and putting on makeup. I was standing in my panties and bra trying to figure out what I was going to wear. “I’m not ready,” I told him. “We have time. The wedding isn’t until two.”
“You said you wanted to get lunch, remember?” Eric reminded me. He knew I’d wanted to try a new restaurant on the way to the wedding.
“We have plenty of time,” I insisted.
It had been almost three months since I’d broken the lease on my apartment to move in with Eric. Those months had been mostly bliss. I was head-over-heels for this guy. At least I was most of the time.
I looked at my closet and tried to decide what to wear. What on earth is appropriate for an Illuminated wedding? I’d asked Eric, but he only said to wear something pretty. The wedding was taking place in the afternoon, so I knew I didn’t have to go formal. I wondered if a skirt and blouse would be dressy enough. Then I wondered if my skirt would be too short.
“What is taking so long?” Eric demanded. He came through the door looking angry. “You’re not dressed? What have you been doing in here?”
“I’ve been trying to find something to wear,” I told him. “I want to look right for your ultra-conservative friends and family.”
Eric grew up as one of The Illuminated, a fact that I was constantly aware of. This religious group was full of people who were caring and kind, but they had some pretty intense beliefs.
The people getting married today were both first cousins of Eric, one on his mom’s side and one on his dad’s. It seemed to me that pretty much everyone in The Illuminated was related somehow. Ambrose was an unusual bride, being twenty and considered an old maid as far as her church was concerned. Her fiance, David, was only a little bit older. This was unusual also. There was often a good ten or even fifteen year difference in the ages of married couples of The Illuminated. Eric’s mother was a youthful forty-five, but his father was sixty.
Eric was no longer part of the group, but he did share some of their values and ideas. In particular, he believed that the man was the head of the house. This meant that in our relationship, he had total authority.
I knew that was the case, and I was okay with it. I’d always been naturally submissive, and I enjoyed power games during sex. Besides, I was curious about what it would be like to be in a relationship where I was subject to my partner’s rules and discipline. The truth was that it brought me a security that I hadn’t felt before, and the thought of it was kind of sexy. Of course I’d only been at it for two months, and nothing significant had happened. That was about to change.
Eric strode to the closet and grabbed a long skirt and a t-shirt. He thrust them at me. “Here. Wear this.”
I took the things and returned them to the closet. “Not only are those inappropriate for a wedding, they don’t even go together!”
“Well put something on,” he demanded.
“I am!” I yelled. “Get the hell out of here! I’ll be ready when I’m ready!”
Eric stared at me, and I stared back. I’d expected him to mutter something angry and then leave the room. Instead he just looked at me with this weird intensity.
“What?” I said finally, just to break the silence.
“I am warning you,” he said calmly, his eyes drilling into mine, “to change your tone and to do as I tell you.”
I should have stopped there. I should have apologized and just put something on. I couldn’t, though. I had to know what would happen. I had to know if he would really do what he’d said he would do. There was only one way to find out.
“I thought I told you to leave,” I spat.
That did it. Eric reached for me and easily pulled me down onto the bed. He was a lot bigger than me, and he was a lot stronger. It was no problem at all for him to sit down on the bed and then wrestle me across his lap.
My fight or flight response kicked in, and I struggled for all I was worth. Suddenly I did not want to know what it was like to be in a domestic discipline situation. It did not seem sexy. I was scared. My chest was fluttering, and my stomach was churning. When I couldn’t get away, I started to beg.
“Eric, please,” I whined.
He sighed and put a hand on my panties. “Let’s talk about this.”
“Will you let me up?”
“No way,” he said. “This is the perfect position to talk.”
I let my head drop onto the bedspread. Eric held me by the waist. My legs dangled out into the air.
I waited for him to say something.
“You know how I feel about our relationship,” Eric told me. “You are so very important to me, babe. But I believe in a traditional relationship. I expect you to do as I tell you, and I expect you to accept my decisions about the consequences. If you aren’t willing to do that, then you need to tell me right now.”
I thought for a moment. Was I willing to do that? Here I was, over his lap and no doubt about to get spanked for my behavior. Did I want this? “I am,” I told him. “I’m just scared.”
“You should be scared,” he said. “This is about discipline, not sex.”
My eyes began to water. How could I be crying when nothing had happened? Eric had spanked me many times before, always as a form of sexy foreplay. He had never spanked me for my behavior.
“Aren’t we going to be late?” I asked him, trying another tactic.
“We’re skipping lunch,” he announced. “This is more important.”
I felt something inside me sink down to my toes.
“I don’t want to hear you talking to me that way again,” Eric said. “Do you understand?”
“Yes,” I said in a very small voice.
Eric began whacking my panties at full force. It stung immediately. Within seconds, it was full-fledged pain. The smacks were painful by themselves, but the way they accumulated was unbearable. My bottom felt like it was one big ball of heat. I tried to speak, but nothing came out when I opened my mouth except for a whine. I could feel tears gather in my eyes and then fall down my face. I started to cry out loud.
This is when Eric took my panties down. He’d seen me naked a hundred times, and I yet I was embarrassed for him to see my bare bottom in these circumstances. Eric continued the spanking, and I cried harder. On bare skin, the sting was more intense and my bottom was getting more tender by the moment. When I realized that I had no control over when this was going to end, I began to panic. My legs kicked on their own, and I pounded the bed with my fists. Eric spanked on. Finally the fight was gone from me, and I melted into the bedspread. I was limp over his lap, conquered.
He stood me up then and placed me in front of him. He looked me in the eye, and I looked at the floor. “Are you ready to behave yourself?”
I nodded. I was too embarrassed to speak to him. I was also extremely turned on. Somewhere during that spanking, the sexy had returned. I wondered if Eric noticed, but I didn’t ask him.
“How do you feel?” he asked me.
I chewed on my lip. “Embarrassed,” I said.
He nodded. “Okay, that’s good. Anything else?”
“My butt hurts,” I told him.
He smiled. “Also good.”
“I’m sorry I talked to you like that. I don’t know why I did that,” I said honestly.
“Oh babe,” Eric said. I could see his eyes soften right in front of me. He stood up and put his arms around me. Then he kissed me deeply.
I kissed him back, hard, grabbing his hair with my hands. I was burning with lust and I didn’t have to wonder long if he was too. Eric pressed against me, and I felt him hard inside his black pants.
“It’s not supposed to happen like this,” Eric mumbled, apparently to himself.
“Hm?” I breathed into his ear.
“I don’t want you to associate punishment with sex,” he whispered, grasping me under my bottom and lifting me toward him.
“I’ve associated punishment with sex my whole life,” I answered. I leaned into him, and he bit my ear. It sent shivers up and down my body.
He continued nibbling on my ear and then my neck. Then he licked his way down to my bra and bit my breasts likely. It was a tiny pain, a prick, and it made me crazy with desire.
Eric put me on the bed face down and began kissing the back of my neck. He kissed his way right down my spine, stopping to lick me now and then. I groaned and wiggled, but he held me still. When he got to the base of my spine, he kissed my bottom. My panties were still around my thighs. These he pulled off and tossed onto the floor. When he opened my legs, I shuddered. He was an expert with his tongue. He moved it around toward my clit. Then he turned me over and finished the job.
My clit began to swell with the touch of his tongue. I pushed my pelvis toward him, and he took hold of my legs. Then he lightly bit the inside of my thighs.
“Oh Eric,” I breathed, on the edge.
His tongue moved back to my clit and began flittering back and forth. It was enough. I came hard, feeling my juices flowing out of control. My body rocked with intensity, and I even cried out. Then I fell back onto the bed.
I was relaxed for a moment, but then Eric started kissing me again. He stopped for a moment to remove his pants, shirt, undershirt and underwear. Naked, he climbed on top of me. His cock was swollen and ready. I grabbed hold of it, wanting to feel its thickness. Then I got up and pushed him into my mouth.
I let my tongue tease him the way he had teased me, tracing circles and moving in and out. I put one hand around the base of him, and with the other I cupped his balls.
He went still and groaned. Then he said, “I want to come inside you.”
I let go of him and let him fall onto me. He entered me quickly, and I knew he was about to burst. We moved together on the bed until he released.
Once he’d had a chance to catch his breath, he said, “We’re not supposed to have sex after a spanking.”
“We always have sex after a spanking,” I argued.
He rolled next to me and settled into the pillow. “No, I mean after discipline. That’s unless we have disciplinary sex. You’re not supposed to enjoy it. Well, not too much.”
“I think I’ll always enjoy it,” I told him. “But if it’s any consolation, my butt still hurts a lot.”
“That’s good,” he said. “Do you feel punished?”
“Punished and loved,” I told him honestly.
He put his arms around me and held me tight. We stayed there together for a long time before Eric announced it was time to get going or we’d miss the whole wedding.
I chose a black skirt and a black and white top. I was worried that someone might be upset that I was wearing black to a wedding, but Eric said to let it go. I obeyed him and let it go. It felt good.

Spanking, With A Side of Sex

2009-10-26T08:46:00.000-07:00

Can it really be just about discipline? Are there really people who live DD where sexuality doesn't play the tiniest role?

I dunno.

I take it a step farther myself. I like sex all mixed up with discipline. In my stories I've written about using anal sex, forced touching and even rough sex almost as a form of punishment. I'm not sure I'd be interested in this kind of relationship IRL, but this kind of consensual rape so to speak does pop up in my dark fantasies.

The first time I read a story like this was years ago. It was called "Jessie and Her Daddy" and sometimes "Sweet Gestures". It was written by someone who called him or herself Uninhibited. That was one time when I read a story and my buttons were pushed HARD by something I'd never really thought about before. I would say it inspired the kind of age play I like to write now.

Spanking in Autumn

2009-10-25T05:02:00.000-07:00

Halloween and fall in general really get my fantasies going.

There's something about the autumn that makes spanking play even more fun. It might have to do with the feeling you get when that chilly air hits your bare bottom. Yum. Also there's something sexy about pumpkins. Laugh if you want!

Haybales, hayrides (especially scary Halloween ones where you have to grab your daddy close!), apple picking, and candy of course are some of my favorite things.

I dress up every year, usually a furry animal of some kind but sometimes a cute outfit with a short, full skirt.

Excuse me. I'm going to go make a pile of crunchy leaves and JUMP IN IT!

Spanking in Advertisements

2009-10-24T16:20:00.000-07:00

Hey sex sells. These two vintage ads and two modern ones are hot, hot, hot.

A Peek At Audrey

2009-10-23T02:40:00.000-07:00

It's hard to french braid pigtails. For one thing you have to hold your arms up for a long time, and they start to ache. You can't look in the mirror much because you get all twisty turny with your fingers. Sometimes you get all done and it looks really good except for there's this one bump of hair that's driving you crazy. Your daddy says no one will notice and hurry up let's get in the car. But you can't stand that bump! So you pull at it and then you have a big strand of hair falling down over your french braid, and that just doesn't look right at all.

You daddy says come on RIGHT NOW.

Blah. You have to undo your pigtail and start all over again. Your daddy says why don't you just wear regular pigtails today because we're running late. Then you have to stamp your foot and remind him that you WANT to wear french braid pigtails. What you want is what you want.

Then your daddy comes into the bedroom, and he is not looking so happy. He tells you that you have 30 seconds to get your little behind out to the car. You cannot complete a french braid pigtail in 30 seconds. You can't even complete a real pigtail in 30 seconds.

You could take down your hair, brush it out and go like that. But you WANT french braid pigtails!

So you give your daddy a big pouty face and tell him a little too sharply that you will be ready when you are ready.

Your daddy does not respond to your commands as you do to his. Instead he marches toward you. You realize what's happening and instinctively back away. Your daddy lifts your full, short skirt in one hand and smacks your panties hard with the other. He is fast. This only takes him about 5 seconds. You wonder if he knows how to french braid a pigtail.

You jump and squeal and turn to your daddy. WHAT?

Your daddy explains that he has had it up to here (where?) with these pigtails and that you are getting into the car right this second.

You rub the sore spot on your bottom and explain that you will not be going anywhere until you are finished.

Your daddy sighs. Then he drags you onto the bed and flips you over his lap. He is quite good at this. He pins you down and takes the hairbrush out of your hand. It is only plastic, but that's bad enough.

He pulls down your panties and spanks you hard with the hairbrush. The spanks come fast and furious, and you begin to wiggle for all you are worth. The heat in your bottom has built very quickly. There is no warm-up here. This is a quick job designed to make you very uncomfortable for the upcoming car ride. It's to remind you that you are not the person in charge.

You are reminded. Your bottom stings, and the tears are pooling but not falling when your daddy lifts you to your feet. You glance at the mirror. Your skirt is still up, and your panties are still down. You can see that your daddy has painted your bottom a mostly bright pink with a few variations. You can also see that your hair has come undone on both sides.

Your daddy asks you if you are ready to behave yourself. You nod and sniff. He gives you a little kiss on the forehead and then takes your hand to lead you out to the car. He has tossed the hairbrush onto the bed. You grab it as you follow him out the door. You will do your french braid pigtails in the car. It might be harder that way, but it will keep your mind off your burning bottom.

It's hard to french braid pigtails.

When Age Play and DD Mix

2009-10-22T07:16:00.000-07:00

Picture a couple in a male dominant domestic discipline relationship. The woman has done something that the couple has previously agreed will require punishment. So the man sends the woman to put on her "punishment clothes".

You've heard of this, right? You see it in a lot of stories, and people talk about it on message boards. I suppose punishment clothes could mean something else (like a frilly apron and nothing else!) but most of the time it invloves the woman dressing up... not so much as a child but as a kind of fantasy child in short frilly dresses and pigtails. These kinds of clothes are often used in age play games, but apparently they are also used for discipline.

So what's up with this? Is this something the woman has chosen, or is it part of the discipline? I definitely get the idea that much of the time the outfit is part of the punishment. I guess it could be used to get the woman into a certain, childlike state of mind.

When I'm being spanked, especially otk, I start to shrink inside. I feel little, like a child. It's not a bad thing. In fact it gives me a feeling of security. I wonder if the clothing does something similar?

Or is the clothing intended to embarass the woman, adding to her punishment?

I like the possibilities of clothing in any kind of power exchange relationship. I like being told to wear certain panties under my clothes or no panties at all so that he can have easier access to my bottom. There have been several terrific stories where a man asks a woman, in public, to go to the restroom and remove her panties. That makes me all shivery.

If you are young enough and small enough, you could wear little girls' clothes and actually look like a real little girl. Does anyone really pull this off in public? I love the idea that people do! I'm small myself and could probably look very young, but I don't know if I would have the courage to do this... and I've never had a top ask me to. :-)

The age play clothes for time at home are different, though. Often they look like those sparkly little clothes pageant kids wear. Made specifically for ageplay, they will often feature a drop-seat (pajamas) or even a tie on the dress so that it can be pulled up and away from a bare bottom.

I know that lots of people like to use nudity in a DD relationship, but that's not for me. I like to have my bottom uncovered. It makes me feel submissive, like I am subject to authority. Being nude would make me feel... visually groped.

Do some couples in DD relationships use age play props (like clothes) for discipline but not engage in actual age play? Or do these typically go hand-in-hand? I wonder...

Ageplay, What It Is & Isn't

2009-10-21T10:00:00.000-07:00

There are a lot of people out there who enjoy ageplay. It comes in many forms, and it is expressed in many ways. Ageplay doesn't have to be a woman pretending to be a child with a man who remains a grown-up. The genders can mix themselves up any which way, and a huge variety of ages can be involve. Adult infants want to wear diapers and use pacifiers. Some of us older girls mostly want to be spanked. The point is that ageplay is definitely out there, and people are definitely interested.

There's a problem, though. The world at large can get a little worked up about this stuff. Why? Well, it's mainly because of some misconceptions.

Ageplay is not about children. This is huge. People who participate in ageplay are not wanna-be pedophiles who just can't find a child to hurt. I'm talking about dominant man, submissive female here because that's what I know. Dominant men I meet who want to play with a "grown-up little girl" have absolutely no interest in children. If they were interested in children, they would not be talking to me!

Ageplay is consensual and gives something to both (or all) participants. I am not being forced or degraded in any way when I participate in ageplay. This is what I want!

Ageplay is not inherently sexual. Okay, for me it is. I like to mix sex with my ageplay. Lots and lots of people who play don't like to have sex involved at all. Know what? Either way is okay because we are talking about consenting adults who have chosen to play a game, can make their own rules and it's really none of your business.

Ahem.

I write to fantasize, and I write to understand myself. I write to work out the demons inside me, and I write to entertain. Ageplay is part of that for me. If it's part of that for you, too, then feel free to express yourself.

Hello Out There

2009-10-21T07:20:00.000-07:00

Hi, big world. My name is Jennie and I write stories about ageplay, domestic discipline and spanking.
If you don't like that stuff, no problem. Just move on to something you do like.
I need a place to put my thoughts on my sexuality, and I also want to get my stories out there for people to find. More to come. :-)