It’s ages since I’ve updated my blog, but I have been busy writing, and I’ve just published three, not so short stories, called ‘3 from Bee’ (see below). There have also been some developments in our home.
Robert and I tend to keep ourselves to ourselves. We have two spare bedrooms, and one is occasionally used when we have guests, but the other hasn’t been used as a bedroom since we moved in, and had gradually become a junk room. That has now changed, and the junk has been cleared, the door fitted with a lock, and we now have a dedicated punishment room, with everything set up and ready for use. It now means that within minutes of me deciding to discipline Robert, he can be strapped down over our whipping bench, with one of my canes or tawses decorating his deserving bare bottom.
The dedicated punishment room has also enabled me to indulge in another extravagance – a dedicated spanking chair. I’ve written a spanking chair into one of my previous stories, so I can claim to have inspired myself. It all came about when Robert and I were visiting an old historical house that had opened to the public for a day. I noticed, in the drawing room, a really sturdy looking chair set against the wall. It appeared to be made out of oak, and had a high, decoratively carved back.
“That would make a wonderful spanking chair,” I whispered to Robert. I could see from his reaction that he agreed.
Including the spanking chair in a story followed, and I’ve been keeping an eye on antique shops since, hoping to acquire my own. I’m delighted to report that I now have done so. Like the chair I noticed at the historical house, this chair seems to be made of dark oak, has a high back, and is very sturdy. It also has sturdy, square legs, and that was essential for my plans.
The floor of my punishment room has been stripped to bare, wooden, floorboards, as I feel it enhances the acoustics of thrashings. It also makes bolting things down easier, such as my spanking chair. I had Robert fit steel angle brackets to all four feet of the spanking chair, then secure it to the floor. It’s positioned side on to a wall, just under a metre away. I’ve also had him fit two heavy duty fold down, flush, lifting rings to the floor, positioned about half a metre apart, where I want his feet when he is over my lap for a spanking, and he’s fitted another to the other side of the chair, where I want his hands. These sturdy, metal rings allow me to secure his ankles to the floor using leather ankle cuffs and double ended metal snap hooks. His wrists are secured to the other ring, using leather wrist cuffs, with a rope, passing through the other lifting ring, then tied off to a substantial cleat fitted to the wall to my left, where I can easily reach when I am seated in the chair. I have had him set up a similar restraining set up before, using eye bolts, but I always had a concern that they presented a trip hazard.
The final restraint items are strong, leather waist belts, each fitted with a steel ‘D’ ring. Both Robert and I need to wear a belt each, with the ‘D’ rings arranged to be adjacent to each other when he is over my lap. Then all I have to do is secure the two ‘D’ rings to each other using another snap hook, to ensure that Robert is totally helpless and unable to wriggle off my lap during spankings, as he has in the past when they’ve been too agonising for him to take (as they should be, of course).
The final touch to complete the installation of the spanking chair was a row of hooks fitted to the wall to my left, where I am able to hang a variety of spanking implements, within easy reach when I am seated.
It took Robert a whole day to complete the spanking chair installation. Setting the flush lifting rings into the floor took up most of his time, as he had to reinforce the floorboards. I insisted that they should be very securely fixed down.
When he had finally finished, he took a shower, and I was waiting for him as she stepped out of the shower.
“While you’re naked, Robert, I’d like to make sure that the spanking chair and restraints are all correctly positioned.”
“You’re not going to spank me, are you, I’m still sore from the last tawsing?”
“I’m not planning to spank you,” I assured him, “I just want to make sure everything’s in order.”
“Well, OK,” he replied, dubiously, as I handed him one of the leather belts.
“I need the ‘D’ ring on your left side,” I said, as he prepared to buckle it snugly around his waist. Mine was already fitted.
“Come with me,” I instructed. I could tell he was wary of my intentions.
Once in the new punishment room, I had him fit leather cuffs to his ankles and wrists, then I secured his ankle cuffs to the appropriate lifting rings in the floor, then secured his wrist cuffs together with a long length of sturdy rope (I’ve recently learned how to tie a bowline – useful for both sailors and spankers).
“Over my lap,” I ordered, as I sat down on my new spanking chair.”
“Are you sure you aren’t going to spank me?” he asked, now looking quite concerned.
“I’ve already answered that question, Robert, now over my lap. You wouldn’t want to make me cross, would you?”
Reluctantly, he lowered his naked body over lap, and I swiftly secured his wrists to the floor and then locked our two waist belts together. He was now helpless, and at my mercy – just how I love him to be.
“Yes, I can see you are still sore, Robert,” I said, as I stroked his bare bottom. The tawse marks were still evident, “but never mind.”
“I suppose the only way to check how secure the restraints are, is if you try to wriggle free,” I suggested.
“So you want me to try, do you?”
“Yes, Robert.”
As I looked down at his bottom, he tried to wriggle free, and failed. I did note that his attempt was a little half-hearted.
“Well the restraints seem to be working, Robert, but I don’t think that was a very convincing test. I think they need testing in more realistic conditions.”
“You promised you wouldn’t spank me,” he protested, clearly now alarmed.
“I promised no such thing,” I replied, “I merely said I had no plans to spank you, and I didn’t, but I have now. It’s a ladies prerogative to change her mind.”
“Oh no! Not the hairbrush!” he cried, as I reached for my favourite heavy wooden hairbrush.
“Oh yes, Robert. I think we should thoroughly test the restraints before I declare the spanking chair fit for purpose.
Robert absolutely hates my favourite hairbrush. He claims it stings insanely. It’s actually not a hairbrush at all, but a vintage, oval headed clothes brush, but hairbrush sounds better when spanking is on the agenda.
“But, I’m still sore!” he protested, now in panic.
“Never mind,” I replied, reassuringly.
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!……
Hard and brisk, that’s how I like to administer hairbrush spankings, and that’s how I could be quite sure that the new restraints would be thoroughly tested. My word, once I got underway, Robert certainly wriggled and writhed. This was accompanied by desperate gasping, squealing and pleading – music to my ears.
I have to confess that I find the intimacy of a naked man desperately writhing over my lap, as I set his dancing bare bottom ablaze, deliciously erotic.
The spanking was a long one, considering how briskly I was spanking him, probably over a minute. It must have seemed an eternity to Robert, and it was quite tiring, as the hairbrush is a heavy one. Even so, as I approached the final twenty seconds, or so, I found the energy to up the tempo and put some real extra venom into the strokes. My goodness what a fuss he made. The squealing, gasping and pleading grew ever more desperate, and the wriggling escalated to a frenzy. Metal lifting rings clacked crazily against sturdy metal snap hooks as his limbs sought to pull free.
I judged the christening of my new spanking chair to be a success. The restraints were completely unyielding, and Robert’s writhing bare bottom stayed perfectly presented for my hairbrush.
“Do you think I overdid it a bit, Robert?” I asked, ten minutes after his spanking, as he sat on a bag of frozen peas.
“No, you were too lenient,” he replied, flippantly, “far too lenient.”
“Well I won’t make that mistake again,” I purred, as I planted a gentle kiss on his cheek, “Tea?”
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