Having been a member of ST for the last 2 years it has been fun, enlightening but unfortunately a little saddening.
I had so hoped that a connection could have been made, and a solid DD relationship formed - this has not been the case.
So, with a heavy heart I have decided to withdraw.
I wish everyone all the best and hope that their dreams and aspirations can be fulfilled.
...are panties important? One spankees case for the use of spanking pants (punishment panties)
For anyone who follows my blog, and photo galleries, it is no secret that I am a HUGE fan of spanking pants (punishment panties) - panties worn specifically for viewing and for spanking. Why panties? First off, THEY ARE EYE CANDY. The spanker gets a spanking eye view of a wonderfully shiny pair of panties stretched oh so tight across a bottom being offered up by the spankee for... spanking! Think of panties as bottom enhancement, why wouldn't you wear a super cute pair for a spanking knowing full well that they are shaping and enhancing your bottom?
For the spanker:
I know, I know, there are so many spanking purists that will say "on the bare!" No argument here. A good sound spanking should always finish on the bare. But, why not warm up the panty seat first, and start on a teasingly short and spanking tight pair of super cute panties. Women that spank (and we need more of you out there) take note: a male spankee feels a hundred times more embarrassed if you utilize punishment panties, particularly if you've invited your girlfriends over to watch.
For the male spankee:
Furthering the cause for panties, as a male spankee, there is nothing that turns my face redder with spanking shame than to go over the lap while sporting a pair of spanking tight sissy underpants: high waist lace trimmed nylon briefs, tight and shiny half pants, brightly colored bikinis, frilly rhumba pants - oh my! my underpants are showing! how embarrassing! And, as you are squirming over the spanker's lap, they just feel great, front and rear. I have observed that a paddle impacting a pair of tightly packed panties makes a much sharper resonance, much like a rifle report...
KARAAAKKK! - paddle on my panties please.
I like to pantytease the spanker and encourage a hand roaming my tight panty seat, with the spanker snugging them up and then smoothing them down. Having my panties adjusted before the spanking is very exciting, it feels wonderful and is VERY embarrassing! For me, embarrassment = thrill. You know your underpants are going to be seen, spanking is your best opportunity you have to show off your underpants. I love hearing a spanker's comments on my choice of panties worn knowing full well they would be seen, taking care to select the most embarrassing pair possible.
For the witness to your spanking:
Witnesses? You bet. I LOVE getting a witnessed spanking. I want the witnesses mouths to drop open in wide eyed surprise as they get their first look at a sissy pantyboy going otk to get his paddle comeuppance in shiny tight spanking briefs. I am sure they are thinking OMG! he's wearing PANTIES! And witnesses, be sure to comment on his panties. In fact, make him parade them around for your amusement. I always want to make sure that my small round and very spankable bottom is presented in the best possible way, in spanking tight and shiny little panties.
(oh yeah... and women, unless you're wearing a school girl skirt, lose the cotton panties. the shine is the best part of wearing panties. wear the shiny ones, we like seeing the shiny ones)
Finished the assignment today.
The shopping and preparing are hard to describe. I kept imagine how people would think of me when I was picking a good shaped ginger root. And the preparing,I am kinda proud of my handcraft talent. lol
Like I thought it did burn like hell. But it's okay. I was told to hold it for 5 full minutes. But tried playing cute and it worked. She deduced it to 3 minutes. Thank god. It turned out 3 minute was just too easy to achieve. I haven't told her this,I am not sure if it's the right thing to do.
She was satisfied with the assignment. And ask me about the test in every Monday. I told her last time I was aiming at a full mark but just got a 94%. She said if the score was low I would get a punishment.
So the test is tomorrow,I am still can't put my phone down. I have a feeling I am gonna fail the target. I should hit the book.
Last night finished off a very long day for me. After working all day at my Pasty restaurant, I had to come home for a quick shower and change into a tuxedo. All after having been informed very early that my Baby girl would not be available during the day to chat. It made the day drag on without her.
Around 7pm we started the installation of officers of my Masonic Lodge. I stepped down as Master for the past 3 years to the second in charge position. At about 8:30, just as I was conducted to my station, my cell phone went off to the tune of "Benny Hill Show". Now, with about 100 in attendance, someone said " why is your ass playing Benny Hill" ...... My apologies Brothers, I forgot to set it to vibrate. I was fined $25.00 for my infraction. A few minutes later I got the opportunity to see who texted me. It was my Baby girl..... I smiled, and said to myself,, " at least I heard from her" A half hour later, while on my way home, about 25 miles from home, I break the belt to the alternator on my Chrysler. Slowly, everything requiring power shut down, Radio first, then transmission went into first gear. Dash light next, then headlights dimmed. Motor starting to buck, I made it to my door just as it stalled. Fuck, Me, at least I made it. Quick change into my shop coveralls I found the problem. Belt shredded, ,,, an easy fix. Looked at the clock and tried to reply to Baby, and she had just gone to bed. Long sigh. I hope today allows some time, if not, there is always before she goes to work on Monday
it has been a long time coming, i havent had alone time in a couple months. tonight i am by myself.i am a naughty boy who needs regular spankings......as soon as i got home by my self i went straight upstairs and stripped off all my clothes. completely naked i spread out over my bed. i didnt waste any time.....i picked up the hairbrush and began spanking my naked bottom. swat after swat, hard and fast, giving myself a proper spanking..........after awhile i switched to the belt. i spank myself as hard as i can because i know i deserve it.i spank my self as hard as i can because i know if i was bent over mommies lap she would punish me or if i was bent over my wifes lap she would punish me.
i am consumed by my need for a proper spanking
Every once in a while, you find yourself in exactly the right place, at exactly the right moment. Planets align, the karma wheel turns, your longshot comes in. I'd like to share with you one of those moments.
I happened, as with most Sundays, to find myself at the grocery store (I take an elderly parent there to do the weekly shopping). This takes considerable time to accomplish. On a blustery day of a year or so ago, I found myself standing curbside, just outside the door, having one of the several smoke breaks I take on shopping day. The wind was gusting and I was being teased with a few fluttering skirts. And then it happened. The planets aligned, the karma wheel turned, and a long shot came in.
It is an upscale neighborhood and I was already being eyed as suspect, smoking a cigarette and all. and looking like I was loitering with intent (I was). The women stopping after church were decked out in female finery, skirts, heels and pantyhose. Throw in a gusting wind and you just can't beat that combination (I have even devoted an entire photo gallery to wind blown skirts btw).
I was in the process of lighting a cigarette when a well coiffed attractive woman, 40ish, stepped out wearing a very flimsy and very short skirt. Our eyes met and she summed up the situation accurately (the whole loitering with intent thing). I was indeed watching for a wind blown skirt. The situation was shaping up nicely in my favor. She had her purse over her shoulder and carried grocery bags in both hands (probably just needed a few things for Sunday dinner). There wasn't a free hand available to hold to the hem of the skirt. I smiled, she frowned, and with a slight shrug of her shoulders, she stepped off of the curb while the gusting wind immediately inverted the back of her skirt.
She proceeded across the lot without a scurry to her step. In fact, I got the impression that she may have even slowed a bit. As her hips swayed I was treated to a full on view of very shapely legs, a very shapely bottom, and sheer to the waist pantyhose. I almost dropped my cigarette. There is a God (a pantyhose god anyway) as her skirt remained up, with her bottom exposed, for her entire venture to her car.
I watched as she stepped into what was quite likely the most expensive car on the lot (convertible BMW I believe, if memory serves me) and then circled the lot to make her exit. As she passed by, she smiled and waved reinforcing my belief that, on the rare occasion, longshots do come in.
(to whoever it is out there that invented pantyhose I say: thank you, thank you, bless you. I would certainly vote for you for any public office that you would be foolish enough to pursue)
Dark is the sky
Friend or foe
Dark angel appeared
Like the angel of death
The sky is pitch black
Anger is all I feel
Hate was all I felt
Depressing is this poem
Dark, Dark, Dark
Hope is gone
I don't care at all
Like drapes on a stage
Depression a mirage
Enemies become friends
Angel of death thwarted again
Anger and hate fade away
Sweet and loving restored
A rebirth of sorts
Filled with hope once more
Depressing was this poem
Hope was all gone
I didn't care at all
Yet just like the fog
A mist blown away
Love in the air
Songs in my heart
Sweet Angels appear
Soaring up there
Ready to play
To live once again
"Owwwwwww!, her body swung, as the Dragon Cane whacked her cheeks. Her ankles were pulled high above her head, and her arms cuffed to the front legs of the bench. The pain was severe, the welt thick and brusing deep, from just a single swing of a cane.
"Oh, my, Miss Cloud, that was a perfect stroke. The stripe is already rising with color. I'm pleased to use my new cane, on such a naughty bottom." Mr. Stern was delighted in the results. He'd like to thrash her, but then the fun would be over & there was many hours to go.
He studied her bottom suspended in the diapering position. He added some more oil and let it pool in between her cheeks.
He pulled the halfs apart, and ran his hand between them, making his finger greased and ready. At the foot of the bench, his pants grew tight, as his fingers slid from between her bottom to her lovely velvet lips. There he met a juicy welcome. He circled her clit, with his fingertip. He used his other hand to open her flower, stretching her petals and exposing both her clitoris and her well. He lightly, very lightly tapped at the hardening button that crowned her maiden head. Sassy tried to push against him, but succeeded only in swinging her legs and bottom.
Stern took a small metal device from his shelf. It was much like a large bobby pin,
only the hole at the bend was larger, the metal thicker with each tail ending in a loop. He took the tight end and pinching her clit, slid the clip on either side. As he slid it down , her inner lips were caught within, and the loop encircled her button, forcing it out.
Sassy, having no idea, of what he was about, only felt his oily fingers pulling and stretching her. Deep sounds murmured from her throat, then the pinching of her clit and lips. She felt the throbbing of desire. Oh please, touch me, rub me. Her head was thrown back, and her mouth made "oh" and "aw" shapes as her breath grew ragged. She was feeling wonderful...the pulsing within the metal loop was amazing. The rope swayed as she tried to find a rhythm to the beat. It was then, that she heard the whistle of the cane and felt its wicked whack. It almost caught her lady parts, but instead landed in the lower crease of her bum. Whoooosh and crack, again it hit... her upper thighs felt the wrath. It cut through her, that pain, and she cried out, both in suffering and in frustration.
He watched the flesh turn red and then violet. It was such a beautiful sight. His fingers danced over the stripes and again between her legs. Tapping the captive knob, then traveling down to her entrance. It was tight, but slick. One hand taunted her wounds, as his other slid inside her. She twisted as her legs swung. She wanted him, all of him, inside her...She felt pressure at her other place. " Oh no, no....please..." She uttered.
Stern, whispered, "SHUUUUUSH, now, you're fine, Miss Cloud. His well oiled finger pushed and released, pushed and released, circling her tight little rosebud, and finally breached the gates, but just for a peek inside.
"It hurts, it hurts", she said in a panic but he didn't withdraw, he pulled and pushed, just a little, nudged it in and out just enough to wet the way. He poured more oil onto his hand. The other hand found its way to her clit again, flicking it back and forth as his finger wriggled into her bottom.
He whispered push it out, and when she did, instead the gates opened, and his finger slipped in, all the way .
"Oh, oh, oh my God!"
He turned His hand, and put His thumb into her other place, which was soaking and aching for him.
Now, she was gone, she rose and fell as he entered and pulled back, working his digit in and out of both orifices. His hand touching the stripes as he thrusted in, and her sore bottom, clenching at his hand deep inside her. He rubbed her hotspot, back and forth. A low rumble, became breathless.
The heat, the pain, the helplessness... an intoxicating cocktail. She was panting, and crying out, melting into the magical mist. She nearly screamed as she climaxed!! She moved to his beat, and moaned long and loud in rapture, coming again and again.
Thought sometimes in the past about what we want.
We want a reason to get a spanking. And we won´t see Trump as the winner.
So I thought, maybe its nice to play game
We know the president needs 270 votes
My game / bet
We get a share of 25 strokes on each cheek depending on the result of election with the modification of difference. It doesn´t matter if Trump or Clinton wins, Just the difference is counting.
In addition you and I can bet the difference
Going through some pics of my holiday to Ibiza last summer,had a bangin time. Got a little spanking in a nightclub from the DJ and won a bottle of Malibu and a voucher for dinner for two,all for being spanked by this guy who thought he knew how to spank,LOL,it was worth it.
My Sir has said he has seen a nice Vauxhall Astra for me to take a look at tomorrow,hope my days without a motor are numbered I will have to wait and see.although Sir has no idea my insurance will be quite high due to some little mishap I caused a few years back...sssshhhh!!!!
GOODIE FOR ME NO ONE READS MY DIARY OR ALLSORTS WOULD GET OUT,AS USUAL BUGGER OFF!!!
We went out early this morning, so my daily maintenance spanking was this afternoon.
For a change he had me facing the window, bent over, skirt up, resting on the window sill and walloped me so hard, I nearly jumped through the window, jiggling about, trying not to move away after each hit. Until the threat of starting again made me stand still, JUST.
The boy was nineteen. A freshman in college. One boy seated in a lecture hall of hundreds, and yet he stood out.
His mop of dark hair caught my eye as I handed out the syllabus for Physics 101, but it was his disruptive behavior during class - snickering, yawning, talking openly - that called for attention.
As the rest of the students filed out, I stopped him. “You there, in the green T-shirt. Wait a moment.”
He paused, and turned, smiling as if he were used to being singled out of a crowd. “Who, me?”
“Yes, you.” I waited as he sauntered to my desk.
“What?” He pronounced the single word with a distinct southern drawl.
“This is a college class. I don’t know what you got away with in high school, but it won’t fly here. Next lecture, you’d better pay attention.”
He rolled his eyes in pure teenage disgust. “Whatever.” He swiveled on his heel.
“The proper answer is ‘Yes Ma’am.’”
He looked over his shoulder. “What?”
“You heard me.” I gave him the stern look that could make football players cower, and his smile faded a bit.
“Yes Ma’am?” He repeated the phrase with an air of disbelief. “What is this, the fifties?”
I cocked my eyebrow and looked him over, “Let’s have a little chat in my office why don’t we.” I led the way through the hall, my high heels clicking against the polished terrazzo. I could hear him shuffling along behind, certain that his gaze was locked on the sway of my hips encased in a tight black skirt. I closed the door, and he stood in the middle of the book-strewn room, waiting.
“I will not put up with juvenile nonsense,” I said. From experience, I knew I had to cut off this behavior immediately, or it would only get worse.
“I’m not juvenile.” He spread his feet and crossed his arms, indeed every bit a man physically, but an immature boy still ruled his mind.
“And I know just how do deal with boys like you.” I opened the bottom desk drawer and took out the paddle I’d carried with me since my first year of teaching. The polished board didn’t get much use now that I’d moved to the collegiate level of education; never-the-less, I kept it at hand for just these circumstances.
“What the hell?” He scowled and took a step backwards.
“It’s simple. You bend over my desk for a paddling or I kick you out of class.”
“You can’t...” He sucked in a nervous breath. “...do that.”
“Can’t kick you out? I can and I will.”
“The only ‘but’ we need to talk about is your butt, right here.” I cleared a spot for him amid the stacked papers and folders.
He sputtered and took another step backwards, emotion rolling openly across his face. Anger, disbelief, embarrassment.
“Either bend over now, or you’re out.”
He licked his lips and summoned a measure of bravado.
“Oh, what the hell. How bad can it be?” He walked over and placed his hands on the desktop.
“All the way down.” With the heel of my hand I pressed into the middle of his back until his chest went down flat. “Legs apart.” I tapped the paddle between his thighs until he was sufficiently spread, his jeans pulled tight across muscular buns.
“Professor...” He looked back at me, his expression suddenly fearful.
“Hush, boy.” I hooked one finger into his back belt loop and pulled until the seam nearly disappeared between his cheeks.
He let out a soft, tentative moan, and shifted forward in anticipation.
I smiled, and patted the seat of his pants for aim and then raised my arm high. He was about to find out just how much my paddle can burn.
I'd love to hear your spanking story.
#RisendShine Necessity is the mother of invention, convenience is the mother of detention. choose your path wisely #StrictMotivation
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