I didn't think I could be happier to be retired, but...

Obviously many people are worried about school starting and I’m certainly one of them, I have a child starting back too, you know. But even if you set aside the fact that teachers and students are being exposed to a possibly deadly disease, I can’t imagine what teachers are going through. 

Mollie called me last night to run some questions by me. If I’d just been able to stand off and just listen I would never have guesses we were talking about the career I worked at for thirty years. It wasn’t that I didn’t have all the answers she needed – I couldn’t understand the questions! The vocabulary was unfamiliar, the methods were unheard of, and the overall concept of what they’re having to do was completely bewildering.

Teaching online was not somethings teachers ever expected to be doing. They didn’t train for this. I’m not worried about Mollie, she’s young and computers are second nature to her. Most of her questions she was able to answer herself, I was just a way for her to talk it through. In fact her principal asked her to do a workshop tomorrow showing the other teachers what to do. 

Picture the teacher with twenty to twenty-nine years of experience. They can’t retire, at least not with full benefits. I wanted to retire a half year early and found it would lower my retirement check by over four hundred dollars a month for the rest of my life! So they’re soldiering  on, scared and confused. 

Mollie has helped many of them individually. She’ll say something like, “Import the picture from your desk top into your virtual classroom and link it to the site you want.” Now I have the vaguest idea of what she’s saying because of blogging. But most of her teaching friends don’t. Their questions are:

What do you mean import? How do I do that?

How do I get a picture onto my desk top?

How do I take a screen shot?

How to make a virtual classroom?

How do you make a link?

And on and on. It reminds me of the time I spent in the early 2000's trying to teach my father how to email – he really wanted to learn, but it wasn’t to be. When he would finally get the mouse positioned on the right spot – and trust me, that took forever, he’d move it trying to click the button. It was frustrating as hell and I loved him.

Now picture trying to teach anxious, overworked, worried, pissed off middle-aged teachers who don’t really want to learn it. Mollie’s got more guts than I have. I was able to help her just a little. She would tell me what she was going to say to them, something that was so simple to her and I could say, ‘Wait, go back – you’re going to have to tell them what these things are and how to do it step by step.’ I just hope they don’t shoot the messenger.

If you have a child going back virtually or in person, please, please be kind to the teachers – especially if they’re older. And for this I mean over thirty! In some cases they will be as lost as you are but I’m guessing they’re trying as hard as they can to be pleasant and patient with both you and your student.

And if you don’t have children going back but you have friends that are teachers, be there for them if they want to call and cry on your shoulder – and send wine, they’re going to need it.

It's done!

This was just another quiet weekend. We had some friends over for an outdoor and socially distant dinner. And just sat and talked for a long time. I wanted them to see the last of our renovations. I wanted hardwood in my writing room to match the living room. That floor had been parquet, but it was showing some wear and tear and I was ready for it to go.

We had our nice quiet dinner and we’d talked for a while before I had them come in and see the floor. Immediately our friend said, “You covered my work!” It was only then I remembered. This friend had been the one to help Nick put down the parquet nearly twenty years ago!  We had a good laugh. I’d remember him saying, as he got up from his knees, when the old floor had been finished, “I think this is my last job doing something like this.” And it was! Their knees sure wouldn’t let them do it now. But he did say he thought the new floor looked pretty good.

The house isn’t completely finished, but the ‘public’ area is. Nick says we’ll work on our bedroom and bath once he retires. It will be nice to have that done too. Here’s a look at my old and new floor.

Here's before

And after

Fantasy Friday Revival - Payback Time

It is Friday and we do have a story, and what a story!  You are going to love Fantasy Friday today. I know I did. I not only love the story, I love the concept and want to see it nation wide! Enjoy…

Payback Time

Ian Gordon awakes a few minutes before his alarm trumpets the start of a new day. Gordy, as he likes to be called, has reason to greet today with a smile. He has a new assignment at work, one he's been looking forward to for a very long time.

Gordy works for the city of Stillwater, Oklahoma. But, his is not an ordinary municipal job. In fact, unless you live around these parts, you've probably never heard of this particular occupation before. You see, Gordy is a spanker. A Stillwater Oklahoma Spanker... or 'S.O.S.' for short.

The program was voted into existence about a year ago by a frustrated populace. Stillwater is a college town, home of Oklahoma State University. Folks here are proud of OSU, and appreciate what the school means to the local economy. There is a downside though. Nuisance crimes can get out of hand. Vandalism, public drunkenness, disorderly conduct, dangerous driving... the notorious domain of young college students... can ruin the tranquility of the community.

Fines work as a deterrent for those that value a dollar. Some of the college set has a 'who cares' attitude when it comes to monetary slaps on the wrist though. So, for repeat offenders, the good folks of Stillwater decided to start slapping elsewhere.

Gordy loves his job as a spanker and the difference he's been able to make. When he was a Stillwater Police Officer, he often found the same perps in the back of his squad car. Didn't seem to matter what he did, nothing really changed. As a spanker he can see the impact he's having. Stillwater is a more peaceful place, thanks to some of the most well behaved college students in the nation.

Another thing Gordy likes about his job is the spankings! He's been into spanking for most of his life. Long before spanking became a profession, Gordy was spanking his girlfriends. Sometimes just for fun, sometimes as a part of sex, and sometimes to motivate better behavior.

The best thing about the job though, is because of his previous law enforcement experience, Gordy is able to pick his schedule and his cases. His overwhelming preference is coeds. Beyond the obvious reasons, Gordy has found that young women respond extremely well to the contrition and accountability he demands during a spanking. His stern and patriarchal manner suits the job perfectly.

Indeed, Gordy rarely ever has to see a young lady a second time... well, unless she requests special help after her debt to society has been paid off. Several young ladies have been motivated to take their studies seriously thanks to Gordy's strong hand.
As he straightens his tie and readies himself for work this morning, bubbly coeds aren't on Gordy's mind though. Today, Gordy has only one appointment on his schedule. She comes from the OSU campus, like most do. But, Dorothy Clark is not a student. Dr. Clark, as she likes to be called, is the President of Oklahoma State University. She's a highly respected and powerful member of society that almost always gets what she wants.
In fact, she wanted the city spanking ordinance passed and had led the charge to ensure that it did. Having never had even a hint of problem with the law before, it surely never crossed Dr. Clark's mind that she could face a spanking herself back when she was campaigning for the need of some real discipline in the civil code. Three speeding tickets in four months changed all that. The judge had spared her the rod after the second ticket, but was bound by the 'three strikes and you're spanked' provision that Dorothy Clark herself had insisted on.
Gordy had followed Dr. Clark's court cases with great interest, and was disappointed when the judge had given leniency after the second ticket. He was thrilled when the judge had no choice but to sentence a paddling after the third.

The reason... and the reason for the pep in Gordy's step as he heads off to work... is the past he shares with Dr. Clark. Dorothy had been his girlfriend back in their college days. They'd dated for nearly two years, and had even talked of marriage. Things fell apart when Gordy brought up the topic of spanking though. Dorothy wasn't totally opposed to the idea, until she realized Gordy was sexually excited by the prospect. Mean things were said... sadist, pervert, sicko... and things ended rather badly. They'd not spoken since.

It had actually taken Gordy several months to get over the incident. He gave up spanking, and tried to no longer think about it. He never wanted to go through that sort of humiliation and embarrassment again. In time, his wounds healed and his interest returned. He got comfortable with what he liked, and concluded that Dorothy had simply been too narrow minded to understand. He'd never forget her though and would sometimes wonder what it would be like to spank his first love.

Clearly however, Dorothy had forgotten about him. She had her prestigious job at the college, and her position in the community. She hadn't even bothered to protest when the city hired him as a spanker... even though she knew spanking could be sexual to him, and had promised voters that only "moral" spankers would be hired.

'She will remember now,' Gordy chuckles to himself as he drives to work. He's looking forward to this, and doesn't care that the idea excited him.

Gordy arrives at work a few minutes early. The office is close to the courthouse, which isn't far from the campus. Those sentenced to a spanking are assigned a date and a time, and can get the specifics of what is to happen if they wish. Dorothy already knows all about the procedures though. She'd helped set them up.

There are different rooms for dispensing punishments. Gordy reserved his favorite. Simple tan carpeting and white walls, with a huge red cushioned chair and ottoman sitting in the middle of the floor. A small table sits to the side. Gordy checks that the room is clean, and sets his favorite spanking implement on the table. A hairbrush sized paddle made out of smooth oak that Gordy had handcrafted himself.

Usually a first timer would receive just a hand spanking, which was enough for most when Gordy was giving it. If anyone asked why he was using a paddle on a first timer, he'd tell them it was because Dr. Clark had already been given a second chance by the judge. The real reason though, was this was the paddle he'd planned to use on Dorothy all those years ago. It was the only paddle he'd kept when he tried to give up spanking.

A few minutes before her 9am appointment, Gordy sees Dorothy pull into the parking lot. She's wearing a light blue skirt and blouse, which she straightens as she gets out of her gray Mercedes. She is alone and quickly makes her way into the building. Probably doesn't want anyone to see her, Gordy guesses with an amused grin on his face.

Being early in the day, Dorothy finds no line and is sent back without delay.

"Hello Gordy, how have you been?" Dorothy offers nervously.

"It's Mr. Gordon" came the stern retort.

Dorothy clears her throat and mumbles back, "Okay."

Gordy continues, "This is not a social call, Dr. Clark. We take your blatant disrespect for the law seriously, as you'll soon feel."

Dorothy's face turns red as her eyes dart to the floor. She has nothing to say now.

Gordy steps towards the hall, but Dorothy does not follow. Her feet are planted into the carpet.

"Dr. Clark, please, this way."

Nothing.

"Dr. Clark, NOW."

Still nothing.

Protocol requires Gordy to read a prepared text that warns of a possible 180 day jail sentence for failure to comply. Spankings are tightly regulated in most areas. Gordy isn't one to follow scripts though. He reasons each woman is different and thus requires a different kind of spanking. But Dorothy, she can make trouble. It's risky to stray off course with her, and Gordy knows it. After waiting all these years though, he is more than willing to take some chances.

"I will not tolerate disrespect. You will do as you're told, and you WILL take the spanking you have coming," Gordy orders as he takes hold of Dorothy's hand. No protest is offered as she shuffles her feet down the hallway. Gordy leads her straight into the punishment room and towards the big red chair. He can see her eyes fixate on the paddle situated on the middle of the table. Dorothy seems as if she might recognize it, but she does not speak.
Wanting to make his role clear, Gordy sweeps his hands around Dorothy's waist and in one swoop plucks her off her feet and over his lap. With a tug Dorothy's blue dress lifts into the air before falling to her back. New white cotton panties with little pink flowers on the waistband are all that protect Dorothy's bottom now.

"Dorothy, you know why you're here. You've been very-very naughty. Three tickets in four months. That's unacceptable. You're supposed to be a shining example to your students and look at you, over my knee awaiting your deserved punishment like some foolish freshman."

"I know, Mr. Gordon and I am sorry. I really am sorry, sorry for everything. I deserve what I'm about to get."

Gordy is not surprised at Dorothy's repentant tone. Many become apologetic in a last ditch attempt to save their hide. Without pause Gordy firmly replies, "It's good you understand that you've earned what you're about to get."

Slipping his fingers between the fabric of Dorothy's panties and her warm skin, Gordy tugs the material down exposing bare flesh. Her bottom is pale white, and looks surprisingly similar to what he recalls.

Gordy slowly raises his hand, admiring the pristine view.

Thumping down firmly into the bare flesh before him, Gordy begins to spank. Soundly scolding Dorothy's bottom checks with swift smacks that build in intensity with each blow. Gordy's hand rings as he swats away towards a full force hand spanking.

Approaching crescendo, Dorothy cuts loose with a bellowing shriek that could only come from a woman that has never been spanked before. She tries to pull and wiggle, twist and push... anything to soothe the eruption of pain in her rear. Gordy tightens his grip as he pulls Dorothy closer. The struggle excites Gordy in a most obvious way. That Dorothy surely would disapprove if she knew, only adds to the excitement.

With a flourish of walloping spanks, Gordy concludes the hand spanking. Dorothy's rump is an angry shade of red, with small blotches of purple dots peaking out. She's bawling softly into the arm of the chair, very much feeling her punishment.

Heat radiates from under Gordy's hand as gently rubs from the tip of Dorothy's thighs to the edge of her back. She starts to settle herself. Turning her teary eyes towards Gordy, she asks, "Are you still going to paddle me?"

"You're not getting out of it this time" Gordy answers as he roughly runs his fingernails over Dorothy's spanked bottom. She yelps and turns her head back into the armrest.

Turning towards the table, Gordy reaches for his favorite paddle. His legs shift as he slides the smoothly worn oak into his hand. Dorothy pushes her body towards Gordy as he settles back into his seat. Gordy can feel his stiff excitement against his slacks, straining towards Dorothy's bare skin.

Every carnal instinct in Gordy's body urges him forward. To ravish in the way he desires. To take what he wants, and to punish any effort to deny it. To spank hard and act on every craving. To make Dorothy hurt and ache, and at the same time lust and hunger for more.

But his job. The job he loves. The job he knows he'll lose if he persists.

Gordy gathers himself. Dorothy is still and makes no attempt to pull away. He decides to get Dorothy's full attention, in hopes that she'll ignore the issue pressing into her side.

Gordy lifts his attention getter high into the air. Swiftly the paddle cuts through the air, fuming towards it's destination. Scorching into place, Dorothy's breath is taken away. Quickly up again, it falls just as fast on the same spot. Then the attention moves to Dorothy's other cheek. Up and down, and then again.

The sounds of hard wood slapping into tender skin fills the room. Dorothy kicks her feet as her bottom turns deep crimson. She's now howling in distress.

THWACK-THWACK-THWACK. Gordy continues vigorously paddling. Over each check, and down to the tops of her thighs harsh discipline is evenly dispensed. He moves his left hand onto Dorothy's hip and presses down. Slowly he glides his hand away, pulling Dorothy's flesh back and exposing the most delicate part of her bottom.

Unspanked skin is revealed, which Gordy quickly rectifies with the paddle in his right hand by spanking directly on the middle of Dorothy's bottom.

As Gordy pushes the paddle through the air, he starts to scold.

Dorothy, you must remember that traffic laws are designed to keep you safe. SMACK-SMACK!

You must act like the role model you're supposed to be. WHACK-WHACK!

You must not be such a mean prude!
WHAM-WHAM!

Might as well tell her the real reason she's getting the paddle Gordy figures.

With several culminating swats straight on Dorothy's sit spots, the paddling comes to a close. Raging violaceous marks protrude from the scarlet red canvas before Gordy's eyes. Dorothy weeps, but has taken her punishment rather well. Most squirm and fight more than she did.

Gordy very lightly starts to rub. Once a debt has been paid, he believes that comfort and forgiveness should be offered. With his palm he strokes in gentle circular motions, taking his time to pacify the sorest spots.

"Have you learned your lesson young lady?" he asks.

"Yes, sir, I have. Thank you for teaching me it" Dorothy responds with a snivel.

With the spanking over and no chance at manipulating a gentler punishment, Gordy did not expecting such a pleasant response. Maybe an irritable "are we done now"... but not a "thank you." He decides to explore exactly how thankful she is.

"Would you like me to continue rubbing your bottom?"

"Yes, sir. It feels nice." As Dorothy responds, she moves her legs apart stretching her white panties into her thighs. She asks, "Do you think I have a nice ass?"

"You have a very nice ass, sweetie."

"Is it as nice as the ones you normally see?"

"It's nicer, Dorothy. You know I've always liked your bottom."

Gordy continues to stroke. His hand moves over the edge of her back, flowing onto the rise of flesh that forms the beginning of Dorothy's backside. Back and forth he glides, fingers drifting over the divide in her flesh. Plunging lower, he can feel heat rising. Gently he soothes with his touch. His hand lightly passes over the summit of her rear-end, causing Dorothy to wince in pain.

"There-there, you'll be okay" Gordy offers.

Dorothy whispers, "Don't stop."

Gordy continues his decent, reaching the spot where Dorothy's bottom curves into her thighs. She moans softly. Shifting forward her legs move further apart. Gordy's caress brushes against Dorothy's now exposed wetness. Her arousal is obvious.

Concerns about his job melt away as Gordy moves from a soothing touch to a pleasing one. Prodding deeper into her folds of skin, he enters Dorothy. With great hunger she thrusts back as Gordy pushes his finger forward. His hand collides with Dorothy's primal lunge, sending a blissful shiver from the core of her sexuality to the edge of her mouth. She bites down on her lower lip as a wave of release rolls through her body.

Gordy guides his finger from the clutching grasp of Dorothy's quivering body. He raises his hand deliberately into the air and drops several quick slaps on Dorothy's backside.

"Are you a naughty girl that likes to be spanked" he asks.

Dorothy yelps out "yes" as her backside wiggles.

Hand still rhythmically beating down on sore flesh Gordy continues, "... and does spanking turn you on, Dr. Clark?"

Legs slamming shut, her bottom wincing with sting, Dorothy pleas, "yes-yes sir... yes- it does- YES!"

"That's a good girl" Gordy replies with a smile. His spanks subside to little pats, and then more gentle rubs. Dorothy again exposes her excitement. Gordy rewards her honesty with succulent touches directly to her most tender pleasure spot. Dorothy's body trembles with pulsing ecstasy, absorbing all of the bliss Gordy's skilled hand offers. Wave after wave of gratification swirls through her body until she is completely fulfilled.

The frenzy of hard spanking and unrestrained sexuality drains Dorothy leaving her finely styled hair clinging to her damp forehead. Little beads of perspiration roll from her back and onto her spanked bottom. Her fashionable blue dress is disheveled against her body.

Slumping back into the big chair, Gordy allows Dorothy time to catch her breath. Softly running his fingers over crimson skin, he chuckles out loud.

Dorothy turns her head and asks, "What's so funny?"

Patting her bottom Gordy answers, "The spanking ordinance, me being hired as the top spanker, you getting three speeding tickets in four months... I'm thinking you being here isn't exactly a coincidence."

Dorothy says nothing.

"Do I need to paddle you again young lady?"

"... okay-okay, I admit it! I've thought about you giving me a spanking ever since we broke up. I've fantasized about it, and wished I'd have just been honest about wanting it when you brought it up. I just never could think of how to fix things. so... I ...
I..."

"That's very sneaky of you, Dr. Clark. I wonder what all those coeds I've spanked think of your shenanigans..."

It was a good thing Gordy had just the one appointment today...

~o~

The master craftsman of this wonderful story was none other than Todd from American Spanking Society. Thanks Todd, you are a great writer and I appreciate you sharing that talent here for Fantasy Friday.  If anyone else has a story they are willing to share please send it to elisspeaks@yahoo.com

TBT - Why?

Many of you reading now might not remember Grace. She's been around longer than I have, nearly sixteen years although she doesn't post often now. She had to deal with cancer about ten years ago and beat it soundly. Unfortunately, she's having to deal with it again. I found this post I wrote with her in mind back in 2010. With everything happening in the world today, I thought it might be a good time to repost it.

Why?

It was actually my friend Grace, my good friend who is worried now, who asked the question back near Christmas that got me really thinking and mind blogging the question “Why do bad things happen to good people?” She wasn’t the only one to ever ask the question and I am certainly not the only one to ponder the answer. The answer I left her in comments is the only accurate answer, ‘I don’t know.’ But I kept mulling it over and I remembered something I had heard a long time ago. I heard it on a soap opera of all places but it was very thought provoking.

A priest was trying to explain why something awful had happened in this person’s life. He used the back of a piece of cross stitching to explain how we view life. It’s often confusing, unclear, it’s not ugly but it often doesn’t make a lot of sense. Why does this string jump and go way over here? Why is this piece broken off? Why is this part tangled and knotted? Why isn’t the picture clear?? The reason is because we are seeing it from our side. The only side we can see during our life. Although we can often see a vague pattern forming, the details and true beauty of our lives, the whole plan – so to speak – can only be seen from the Creator’s side.

What we see as a confusing tangle from our side is truly beautiful from God’s side. He knows the detail and the pattern and why things happen as they do. God does not will that the knots and tangles are there but He knows it’s all coming together to form a beautiful life. From His side it’s perfect.



You know when our kids were small we all took them for their vaccines. Picture them around two years old. We take them in and even as they are safe and secure in our arms someone sticks them with a needle. It hurts and they cry, sometimes we cry with them. Sometimes we get that look like, 'Someone just hurt me on purpose and you didn’t do anything to stop them. Why?'

And what do we do? Do we try to explain to the two year old how a vaccine works and how they can protect us from disease? Nope, we just hold them close and tell them we love them and that we’ll take care of everything. They just need to trust us. When bad things happen I think that is what God wants to do for us. We just have to try to let go of the worry and fear as much as we can so we can feel and hear Him. So maybe the answer to why bad things happen isn't as important as knowing God is going to be with us through whatever does happen.

Update on my worries

I thought I’d give you a quick update on my worries from a couple of weeks ago. Collin came to see his family. He got to spend a lot of time with them, but he came back to us each evening and I know he appreciated the peace and quiet. He wore his mask most of the time in the house and in the mornings  he would sit across the room from me as he drank his coffee and we’d visit. It was good to be able to spend time with him.

While he was gone LJ managed the move to the new apartment with a little help from his friends. The cats were not pleased with the move – they’ve lived in the other apartment for nine years. Then suddenly Collin’s gone and they’ve been ‘catnapped’ to a new place. Collin’s cat, the more timid of the two wouldn’t come out from under the bed – until Collin got home. 

And here are the cats once he got there. Collin's cat is looking at him. All our spouses should look at us so adoringly.  

Another few days at home and a negative Covid test later and Collin’s back at work. Just in time LJ told me. They have new furniture to buy!

Mollie did head to Disney with her two friends. They each had a row to themselves on the plane, with no one beside them or even across the aisle. She said the parks were wonderful. Not crowded at all and everyone she saw had their mask on – said she never even saw one pulled down. That was staff and guests alike. They were never in great crowds, no massive lines. The ate at the park, outside and very distant from other guest and they never went anywhere else. 

They were rained on a bit Sunday morning as the hurricane churned toward them – it probably didn’t churn as much as my stomach did with worry. But most of the time it was sunny and hot. They had a great time and now they are home and back in quarantine. I wish she could get a test as Collin did, but she is just a lowly teacher. Sigh…

I’m sure glad everyone is back where they belong. Even the granddog.

Fantasy Friday Revival - Therapy Session

Happy Friday to all! I love today's story. I understand it and it really speaks to me. I just wish it could happen more in real life. I hope you enjoy...

Therapy Session

Jan and Ted Coles sat in separate wingback chairs, across the desk from Dr. Baird Winslow.They were nervous as they watched the bespectacled psychologist, a noted marriage counselor and therapist, shuffle his notes. Ted glanced at his wife, whose gaze was in her lap. He reached over the arms of the chairs, and picked up her hand. He smiled at her as he gave her a reassuring squeeze.

Dr. Winslow smiled, too, as he looked up at them. “There’s very good news for you,” he began, “the tests, questionnaires, surveys and interviews all indicate that you will be just fine – better than you ever believed, in fact.”

Jan and Ted exhaled.

The doctor continued, “You are, as individuals, well grounded, robust and resilient people. You both can be characterized as practical and hard working. You have a genuine affection, admiration and deep love for the other. You are going to be just fine.”

There was a pause, and finally Ted spoke. “I’m – we’re – relieved to hear that, Dr. Winslow. We don’t doubt that we love each other, as we told you a month ago when we came here. But there’s no denying we’ve had problems over the last few years. We’re not intimate like we used to be – and I don’t just mean sexually. We’ve been going through the motions, but we haven’t shared life as a couple in a long while.”

Jan spoke up, too. “Is it unrealistic to expect it to be as close as it was in the beginning? Do all married couples lose intensity in their relationship over time? I mean, we’ve had kids, and jobs, and stress over the years. Is the problem that we’re not adjusting to something that happens inevitably?” She looked distressed.

Dr. Winslow looked at her steadily, and then spoke. “There is no inevitable anything in marriage,” he said. “Mrs. Coles, come with me. I’m going to show you something that is going to change your marriage forever, and will restore all intensity and emotional connection that you’ve been missing.”

The doctor rose and Jan followed his lead. They walked together to a small table against the far wall. It was covered with a white cloth, but there were obviously objects underneath the covering. The doctor lifted the cloth by its hem and withdrew it with a flourish, exposing a small collection of paddles and straps. Jan Coles gasped, and immediately colored. Dr. Winslow could see her neck, face and ears blushing red, and he nodded to himself. Ted Coles, still seated in his chair, couldn’t see what his wife beheld, but was curious to know what provoked her reaction.

Dr. Winslow spoke, in a firm voice: “Mrs. Coles, you will take this – “he handed her a small, oval-shaped leather paddle – “and you will hold it behind your back as you stand in this corner –“he indicated the corner to the left behind his desk –“and you will not move or make a sound as I talk with your husband. If you do, I will come over to the corner and I will paddle you with this (he held up a rectangular piece of wood four times the size of the paddle that Jan now held). Do you understand?”

“Now hold on . . .” Ted rose from his chair, unsure what the doctor was doing, and even more uncertain what he would do to stop it.

Dr. Winslow turned to him. “Mr. Coles, I know this is unusual and unexpected for you. Please let Mrs. Coles decide if she’ll proceed, and then I assure you that you and I will have an illuminating conversation.”

Ted looked at Jan. To his astonishment, she turned to the doctor, said, “I understand,” and crossed the floor to the designated corner, where she stood with the small paddle held at her tailbone. The two men watched her in silence for a moment; Dr. Winslow indicated the two wing chairs, and they sat down.

“Mr. Coles,” Dr. Winslow began, “your wife loves you deeply and yearns for a deeper emotional connection with you. She wants to tell you her most innermost feelings, fears, desires and hopes. But she’s inhibited by a fear you’ll reject her on some level, so she keeps things inside.”

“Your own tests show you to be a highly self-confident leader. You are analytical and rational, yet also visionary and of an “expansive” mind. You have proven yourself in business, where you are well respected and successful. In your relationship with your wife, your tests reveal a certain frustration with things, and a desire to be the recognized leader of your relationship.”

“In sum, Mr. Coles, you have the natural makings of a dominant in your relationship, and Mrs. Coles is, organically, in regards to her feelings to you, at least, a submissive. You two are made for each other.”

Ted was silent, taking in the information. He looked at his wife, standing with her back to him, her fingers wrapped around the handle of the paddle. “So you’re telling me to dominate my wife physically? I could never hurt Jan – the idea is repugnant to me!” Ted spoke with his fists clenched.

Dr. Winslow nodded at him. “I’m advising you, with your wife’s consent, to spank her. I can tell you from years of working with couples whose profiles are similar to yours that spanking will bring you closer, will open lines of communication, will lead to more frequent and fulfilling sexual intimacy, and will satisfy your conscious and subconscious desires to assume the natural role in your relationship. One of my mentors told me early on, ‘The couples that spanks, stays together.’ I’ve seen it myself, and he’s right.”

“As far as hurting Mrs. Coles goes, you have to learn how to administer a spanking the correct way. You should put her over your lap, well supported, and spank her on the meat of her bottom – not up too high. Start slowly and build up, and that’s all there is to it. You’ll get the hang of it pretty quickly. In fact, I think it’s time you saw the demonstration.” The doctor rose and addressed Jan, “Mrs. Coles, come over here now, please.” He moved to the couch.

Jan gulped, and turned slowly. She saw the doctor, sitting on the couch and lightly patting his thigh. She began to walk toward him, and then changed course and approached her husband. Standing in front of him, she held out the paddle to him and said softly, “There is only one person I can ever imagine spanking me, and that’s Ted. Will you do it, darling?”

Ted rose, took his wife’s hand in his left and relieved her of the paddle with his right. He led her to the couch, where Dr. Winslow relinquished his seat with a sigh. “Would you like me to advise you? Give you some pointers as you go along?” There was a hint of wistfulness in his voice.

“Just some privacy, please,” Jan responded. As Ted took the doctor’s place on the couch, Jan put herself across his lap. Dr. Winslow, on his way out the door, caught a glimpse of Jan’s pantyhose-covered bottom as Ted lifted her skirt and slip and began to spank her tentatively with his hand.

At first he said nothing, embarrassed to be doing what he found himself doing at all. After a few minutes, though, when Jan hadn’t protested, he spanked harder and faster, and began to talk. “Jan, you’ve had this coming for quite some time. You’ve been moody, evasive and sullen. From now on, you’re going to talk to me, and not retreat from me, do you understand?”

“Yes, Ted, I do,” Jan was breathing fast as her husband rained down spanks on her behind. The smacks grew in number, severity and rapidity. “I wish I had been more open with you; I’m sorry I wasn’t.”

“You’re going to be a lot more sorry before I’m finished with you,” Ted assured her. He stopped spanking for a moment to rub his hand, then pulled Jan’s pantyhose and panties down to her mid-thighs. He could make out handprints – his handprints – on her faintly blushing bottom. It wasn’t as red as he thought it would be. He picked up the paddle, and brought it down smartly on each cheek, raising an immediate red spot on each side and an exclamation from Jan.

“There are going to be some changes, young lady, and they’re going to start right now.” Ted used the paddle as though a metronome were dictating its cadence. Rhythmically he brought it down first on the right side, then the left. He avoided skin that had already turned bright red, and in that way worked on painting her entire backside crimson.

“You’re going to meet your responsibilities to me and to our family,” he continued, “and you’re going to lose the short temper and snippy attitude you’ve been copping.” Ted paddled some more, and Jan squirmed and twisted and kicked her heels. Her bottom stung like fury, and the blows that landed on the sides of her buttocks and the tops of her thighs caused her particular distress. “Yes, Ted,” she agreed, “I will. Please stop for a minute – can I get my breath? It’s really hurting!”

“I do believe it’s supposed to hurt,” Ted answered her. “I’m almost finished here, but know this – I will not hesitate (three particularly hard spanks landed as he spoke these words) to spank you from now on if I feel you’ve earned it. Understood?”

“Yes! Please stop!”

“Yes, sir, you mean?” Ted delivered another round of hard, rapid spanks.

“Yes, sir! I understand!”

To Jan’s relief the spanking stopped. She felt her husband’s gentle touch again; he lightly ran his fingers over her reddened bottom, and then rubbed more firmly. He rubbed her back with his left hand. Jan, though she was still bare-bottomed across her husband’s lap, in a doctor’s office, felt calm and also incredibly aroused. She thrust her pelvis into Ted’s thigh and rubbed against the fabric of his suit trousers. She waited to hear from him that she was permitted to get up and restore order to her clothing.

Ted looked into her eyes. “My bride has another wifely duty to conduct at home,” he said with a wry smile. He put her hand on the front of his pants, and she smiled at the stiffness she encountered there. They scurried from the doctor’s office like newlyweds bound for the honeymoon suite.

~o~

Now I think if we had more doctors who would prescribe this kind of therapy to couples in trouble we could lessen our divorce rate. Yeah, yeah, yeah I know it wouldn't work for everyone but we all know that it really would work for many people if they gave it a try. I sometimes wonder about woman who haven't spent their lives think of spanking like many of us. How might they react to a suggest like this? I think many would be more intrigued than appalled.

This wonderful story was written by Scout. Scout never had a blog but we used to email one another. Thanks Scout, if you're still out there, let me know.

As for everyone else, just keep thinking - we are all interested in what other people fantasies about. Share your story with us, send it to elisspeaks@yahoo.com

Fourteen years

It was a busy weekend. I nearly let an important date go by. Yesterday July 27, was my fourteenth blogging anniversary. Wow, the changes that have occurred in my life and in the blogging world in fourteen years – amazing!

I began as a teacher with a curly perm. I was vastly overweight. I was a friendly roommate with my husband. I wore a granny gown to bed each night. And I worked hard at raising my two teenagers. As I disappeared into blogland I let my hair grow out. I retired from the teaching profession and joined the writing profession. I lost enough weight to drop the ‘vastly.’ My husband and I became lovers. I began sleeping in the nude and my teens grew into adults who are self-sufficient with their own homes and good jobs. That’s a lot of changing.

Blogland has also gone through an amazing change during that time. I got here in the hay-day and I’ll be forever grateful. There were lots of spanking blogs, tons of people blogging and commenting. I met so many lovely people on line and we talked, commented, and emailed one another. I met a few in real life and that was really fun, but even those I’ll never see added to my life with their comments and emails. Not nearly as many people want to talk these days and since I still love blogging it makes me sad. But I’ve accepted that I can’t change that and I’m happy when people do want to talk with me.

I took a peek back into ancient history and dug out the very first post I put up. I thought I’d include it here:

It Starts

I have been reading some of the wonderful blogs out there for a few months. Within the last few days I got the courage up to leave a comment and now I'm blogging. This is just a way to sort out my feelings since no one can possibly talk to friends and family about their desire to be spanked. Hell, it took me twenty-three years to get up the nerve to tell my husband.

That's not exactly true. We dabbled a bit four years ago. I liked it but we just let it go because of children in the house, their needs and the needs of my aging parents took up a great deal of time. I stayed so consumed in other things that I just had no interest in sex. None. Zero. Zilch! I wanted to want it but I just didn't.

I'm sad to say that during these four years I lost my beloved parents. My son is leaving for college next month and my daughter is in and out more than she used to be. So I have actually had time to think about myself. I looked on the Internet but what I found at first seemed like porn to me. I like sexy pictures of women getting spanked, but I didn't like torture, whips and chains. I don't want to see male nudity. And then my prayers were answered when I stumbled onto My Bottom Smarts and Bonnie.

It was unbelievable! Normal, sane, regular people, women like me who had answers to my questions and made me feel normal again. When it comes to our sex life, I believe my husband thinks he died and went to heaven. He is happy but stunned. I already have him reading My Bottom Smarts, Nothing Random About a Spanking and A Spanking Good Time. 

I found that once I started leaving comments that it wasn't enough, I wanted to say more, ask questions, and just talk. I hope to hear from some of you.

Elis (eventually, PK)

Fantasy Friday - A Summer's Tail

We've made to  another weekend - although it's hard to tell the difference these days. I'm happy to tell you we have a brand new Fantasy Friday this week from a brand new writer. I really like the way the story had the thoughts of several different people's viewpoint. I hope you'll enjoy 

A Summer's Tail

"Excuse me," 

Lisa looked up from the computer screen on her desk at the calmly spoken words, and into the face of a middle aged, well dressed gentleman. He was wearing a loose light blue shirt, but she could tell that he was in good condition behind it. He had specks of gray in his otherwise black hair, and that seemed to be the only indicator of him being above forty. His face, clean shaven, had a certain youthful quality, and seemed at odds with his mature tone of voice.

"Excuse me, Ma'am?" 

He spoke again and Lisa realized she'd been staring at him and quickly answered.

"Yes, How may I help you?" She hoped he wouldn't notice the blush she could feel creeping across her face. 

"Actually, I was trying to contact someone," he said with a small smile. Had he noticed, or was he just being polite? She couldn't tell and he continued, "Mrs. Jane Summers."

Lisa stifled a sigh. Of course, he would be looking for her boss. Jane Summers was one of the foremost lawyers in the city, partner of the firm Summers, Johnson and Wells and her own personal idol. She was everything Lisa hoped to be one day- successful, accomplished, and kind too. As a paralegal, she hadn't had much interaction with her, heck, Jane Summers might not even know Lisa existed, but even so, Lisa had heard the office news and looked up to her. Jane Summers was as close to perfection as Lisa had ever come across. 

So, of course, this handsome stranger would be here looking for her. She looked up at him again and had to admit they would look good together. Her strong, beautiful boss and this well-mannered, well-built stranger. Not like her, with her secrets...
She smiled, it wasn't as forceful as she'd expected. "Unfortunately, Mrs. Summers is in meeting right now and has asked not to be disturbed. Her phone will be switched off too, so you will have to wait. If it's an emergency, I can try."

The man shook his head "No, that's okay. I just wanted to pass her message." He reached into his pocket and pulled out an envelope. "I thought she might have her phone turned off, so I brought this as a backup." He smiled holding the envelope out to her. "Could you make sure she gets it please, Ma'am?"

Lisa nodded "Sure, though, we need some ID though before accepting anything like that. Who should I say it's from?"

He took out his wallet and showed her his license. Her eyes widened at his last name and she couldn't help glancing up at him. He sighed, as if expecting it. "You can tell her it's from her husband, Aaron Summers."

She quickly nodded. "Yes, Sir" while going over the conversation in her head. Had she said anything wrong in the conversation? She couldn't risk that. But, it wouldn't be completely her fault either! How was she supposed to know? Jane Summers was notoriously private about her personal life. Only a few people at the firm had ever met her husband.

"Uh… is there anything…" She stood up but couldn't get the words out, it was so different now, knowing who he was. What was he thinking? Did he notice anything? Her mind was spinning as it sometimes did when confronted with a situation like this. Why was she…

"Ma'am?" His voice cut through the fugue and she looked back at him. He might have been talking for a while but she'd been too lost in her own thoughts to notice. He kept a calm expression. "Ma'am, I just wanted to say thanks," he said with a polite smile. "And I would appreciate it if you could keep everything to yourself, including my identity. The message is rather private." He picked up his briefcase "Thank you for your time."

She managed to say that it wasn't a problem and he thanked her again before leaving. So, that was Jane Summer's husband. She could appreciate why her boss had chosen him, he seemed like a great complement for her. She could imagine her boss's occasional hot headedness causing problems with someone else, but this guy with his calm , collected demeanor could probably handle those.

She turned over the envelope in her hand. A ping of curiosity shot through her. What could be so important that he felt it was personally necessary to deliver a message and that too one like this? The envelope wasn't sealed, she could probably sneak a peek inside and no one would be the wiser. The meeting was going to run for at least another hour and she was a fast reader. Hesitant, but curious to know more about the life of her hero and her husband, she opened the envelope with a guilty conscience.

A white paper stared out at her but she couldn't see any words. She took it out and unfolded it. It was almost completely blank except for a few sentences in the middle. She read them in under thirty seconds but couldn't stop reading them again and again. No, it couldn't be , she was probably misunderstanding something but how? She looked at it again, at the center of the page with the small message,

Jane,
Found the third speeding ticket.
We will be having a discussion tonight.
Sitting down might be a problem for you in the coming days.
Plan accordingly.
I love you, Aaron

Lisa could feel her heart racing, her breathing had sped up too and she realized that she'd been clutching the paper tightly to her chest, as if afraid someone might read the words and along with it her thoughts. Confusion, guilt and something else - Hope that it might mean just what she thought and relief, relief that she was not alone.

Jane parked her car and got out looking at her home and then back at the new car. Most days , she couldn't wait to walk in those doors, knowing her husband would be there, greeting her with a hug and a kiss before he asked her about her day and started fussing over her. She would complain and grumble, but she loved it. She loved being with someone who didn't see her as Jane Summers the fierce attorney, just as Jane and adored her for it.

Not today though, she thought as she turned away from the car. The new car had landed her in trouble with Aaron, again. Aaron, her handsome, patient husband who made her feel better on any day and who believed both in driving safely and domestic discipline. That combination didn't seem to be doing her butt any favors lately.

Her bottom already seemed to be tingling , though whether in anticipation or as a flashback, she couldn't tell. The last spanking over speeding had been just a week ago, and as she thought about it, she could almost feel his handprints on her bottom from that experience. Aaron spanked hard enough with just his hand and he'd already told her what would happen if she got a third ticket - his belt.

She wasn't afraid of Aaron, that was never the question but the punishment with his belt was something she always dreaded. She knew he didn't use it lightly or like using it, so when he did, he made sure she would not want to repeat the experience, which was good for the future, but very bad for her bottom in the present.

The note was still in her purse and she collected her thoughts, that was its purpose after all. Aaron didn't spring punishments on her, he informed her in advance for two reasons. One, so that she could answer him properly, present any reasons that she might have for what she did and if those were valid ones, he would not spank her and two, because she was a busy lady, he didn't want to interrupt her schedule too much. If there was something immovable, they would postpone the discipline. Unfortunately, today neither of them was applicable and she knew it.

She smoothed her business attire as she opened the door and stepped inside. It was her battle armor after all and she was used to winning in it. Even when her

arguments were flimsy, like today, it made her feel a little better about her chances. 

"Honey, I am home," she called out of habit before remembering her situation, but Aaron was already heading out of the kitchen, apron and all, with that goofy grin, as if she was his favorite person in the world. Which, she thought, she was and that made her feel happy and guilty at once, again.

He reached her and put his arms around her, kissing her on the cheek "Welcome home, dear." He squeezed her tighter , swaying back and forth "I missed you, Jane. I'm making your favorite - Chicken Parmesan," he said as he pulled away, still smiling.

Darn it, she needed to start speaking before it became any harder to do so. She kept her eyes off his face and pointed to the floor . "Okay, I know you're mad and I was speeding but – "

"Jane, honey – I"

"But, I can make the ticket go away, I will argue for myself –"

"Jane," he said a little louder this time.

"I mean it's just another speeding ticket. I work on tougher cases in my dream and even if we have to pay it's not that much, right? So, it's not such a big deal, doesn't even matte – Ow!" She yelped as his hand connected heavily with her bottom.

"Look at me, Jane." A quiet voice informed her and she tried to, but it was so hard. She knew what she would find there. It was not anger that scared her, he would not discipline her if he was angry. No there would be something worse – concern, and disappointment.

A finger slid under her chin and gently tilted her head up and suddenly she was looking directly into his eyes, seeing just what she had expected , along with a sadness that she hadn't. He spoke again slowly in a voice that seemed tired, devoid of the joy from a few moments ago. "You put yourself at risk. I don't care about the ticket or the money, but please, never , ever dare to say that your safety doesn't matter." His voice was still sad but firm as he moved closer again before hugging her, his voice dropping to a whisper. "I won't have that, Jane Summers. I don't think I can take it, if something happens to you, because you think your safety doesn't matter. You are everything to me, I just wish I could show you that somehow…" He kissed the top of her head as she rested against his chest, shaking slightly as she cried.

She wanted to speak, wanted to reassure him that she did know. How could she not? He lived for her and he had made it obvious more times that she could count. He had supported her dreams ever since they'd met, beginning with law school, let her make the decisions, set the goals she envisioned for herself and spanked her when she felt she was falling short. When she got an offer for her dream job in another part of the country, he didn't hesitate and again did everything he could to facilitate the move. Even though he'd been the only one earning at the time, he picked up another job without telling her and when she'd yelled at him, under the stress of the final exams and worried about the new job, how he was not home enough, he'd just stayed quiet and taken it. It had just gotten worse until that morning. She still felt bad about the things she'd said to him that morning and he'd stood there, not saying anything until he collapsed in front of her.

A rushed trip to the hospital later, when his co-workers came over, she'd realized how much he was working. He was practically grinding himself to the bone and hadn't even said anything about it to her. The doctor told her he would be conscious soon and she rested next to him, not knowing when she fell asleep. 

She awoke to her hand being squeezed and opened her eyes to see him, lying there, her husband in a hospital bed with an IV line hooked up to him and still with that goofy grin, a little sheepish as he spoke "I'm sorry I worried you, honey and sorry, I didn't tell –"

A sudden jolt and noise cut him off as a slight sting in his cheek made him realize he'd just been slapped by his teary eyed, angry looking wife. Before he could say anything, she threw herself at him, hugging him so tightly around his chest that he could feel his ribs creaking but he couldn't say a word as she cried loud enough to draw attention from the other patients around them. She was alternatively scolding and threatening him for doing something like that, making him promise not to do anything again, reassuring him that the job, nothing mattered as much as him but most of all, apologizing for everything. 

He couldn't say much in response to her, and realized he was crying himself as he held her tightly. The slap didn't have much sting but the impact behind it, and her words was definitely real. He pulled her up into a proper hug, rubbing her back and stroking her hair as he told her it was okay, they were going to be fine, he loved her and she calmed down.

Today, so many years after that incident, he was still holding her, like the countless times he'd done before a punishment and she finally calmed down enough in his arms, listening to his soft voice. She took a deep breath and looked up at him, "I'm sorry, Aaron. I really am."

He nodded and kissed her on the lips "I know, honey. But, there are going to be consequences. Your safety is important and I'm going to make sure you remember that." 

She said nothing, she understood him well enough too. He cared , she knew he did, and though she didn't like it, she understood why he did it. Punishments weren't meant to be liked, but it was from a place of love and she'd long realized she needed it. 

She took off her clothes, without being asked , just wanting to get this over with and get rid of this sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, so that she could hug him back without this weight on her mind and heart.

Feeling just as vulnerable as the first time they'd seen each other naked, she went over to the couch and lay face down over it, pushing her face into the couch cushions as she heard the sound of Aaron sliding out his belt from the loops. She buried her face deeper, even as she felt his hand on her back and his voice in her ears. "I'm going to give you twenty six with the belt, Jane. One for each mile you were over the limit." He rubbed her back once and then he began.

The first lash left behind a line of fire across her bottom. She was almost sure he wasn't using a regular belt, but one made of thorns or something. She bit back the scream but couldn't focus on anything else as the next lash landed and she clutched the pillow tighter. With the next lash, her concentration broke and she let out the first scream.

His heart almost stopped like always with that sound. That sound never failed to make it harder and he knew with each lash over her bottom, with every scream and yelp from her, he would hate himself more and more but he was going to see it through. He didn't want her to do this and he didn't want to have to do this again, so he would do what was needed and raised the belt again.

The belt continued to fall over her bottom, not even in the same spot consecutively. The fire kept building up and she started to protest. "I'm sorry!" "I will be good!" "I won't ever speed again!" "Please!"

His resolve was almost at the breaking point and the protests didn't help, but then he reminded himself that it was her third ticket, that it was still twenty five miles over the speed limit and he managed to give her thirteen swats before stopping.

As the swats stopped , she took the moment to catch her breath and continued to cry, still keeping her face buried into the couch. He knelt down next to her , speaking in a hoarse voice telling her he loved her, he didn't want her to risk her safety. He knew she wouldn't be able to answer right now, he just wanted her to know. The break was for him as much as her, he couldn't continue without it either.

But it had to end, and he stood up again, telling her in a firm voice that there would be thirteen more and before she could protest, he started. He knew it wasn't going to be easy and tried to make these as fast as he could.

Her bottom felt as if she was never going to be able to sit again. In fact , she was sure of it, even as she protested for him to stop that this was more than thirteen, probably closer to a thousand. She couldn't protest anymore, and lay there sobbing as a couple more lashes landed over her bottom and then it stopped but she couldn't, her sobbing continued.

Aaron felt the same feelings of guilt, self-loathing that he did at the end of almost every punishment, no matter how well deserved it was. He dropped the belt and couldn't hold himself back anymore. He bent down and gathered her in his arms , hugging her as he sat down, keeping his legs spread to avoid touching her bottom as he held her on his lap. He stroked her hair, rubbed her back, kissed her tearstained face repeatedly, telling her how much he loved her.

She spoke in between sobs "I'm.. sorry. I love you too. I'm.. sorry"

The tightness in his chest receded. He needed her forgiveness too, to know that she still loved him. He cleared his throat, "It's okay, honey. Your punishment is over. I forgave you before the punishment even started. Just please don't speed again." He slowly rubbed her bottom.

She winced even at the gentle touch but looked at him. "I won't, I promise," and kissed him on the cheek.

He held her like that for a moment before carrying her to their bedroom. There wasn't going to be anything sexual, but their bed was still a place of comfort and as he continued to hold her, she fell asleep.

He pulled the covers over her and left her to sleep for a while as he went to finish making dinner in the kitchen. Just as he was done, he heard a help from their bedroom and ran upstairs into their bedroom to see her on her feet, still naked, hands on her bottom.

She looked at him "I rolled on to my back and my bottom hurts so bad! It woke me up!" She cried, rubbing furiously

He stood there shocked for a moment, before letting out a laugh that he cut short at once looking at her furious expression. "Sorry." He walked over to her and hugged her. "How about you put on some clothes, I put a cushion on your chair and we can have dinner?"

She looked up at him from within his arms with a smile. "I'd like that but make the cushion a really fluffy one," she said with a pout.

He chuckled. "Only the fluffiest for my love." He kissed her forehead and left while she smiled and searched for something to put on.

After dinner, as they were cuddled on the couch, she asked him something she'd been meaning to. "Honey, why was the message note so crumpled..?"

~~

I was so happy to get this story this week. Our writer wants to remain anonymous but I can tell you it's a young man whose fantasy live is as rich as the rest of ours. I really appreciate you contribution and I hope you'll write for us again. 

All are invited to send a Fantasy Friday story! Send it to elisspeaks@yahoo.com