Saw this meme on Hermiones' heart and so decided to join in. What the h..., I've been naughty for most of the year so.....
1. Eggnogg or Hot chocolate ?
Hot chocolate, (with some brandy in it)
2. Does santa wrap presents or just put them under the tree ?
Father Christmas wraps them AND puts some of them under the tree. The rest go into sacks at the end of the bed.
3. Coloured or white lights on the tree or house ?
Coloured lights on the tree, white lights on the house outside.
Actually.....I rearranged a set of lights on someones outside tree so that it looked like a flashing penis and balls !!
4. Do you hang mistletoe ?
Yes, and it is always real. Well..you never know your luck.
5. When do you put your decorations up ?
About two weeks before Christmas...depends on how much the kids nag me and then ALWAYS within ten days after.
6. What is your favourite holiday dish ?
Ummm? Probably have to go for duck as that's what I'm having this year but love a roast beef...Yum. So long as it's rare in the middle. Spanked bottom pink colour.
7. Favourite memory as a child ?
Standing on our sofa with my Grandmother looking out the window to see if I could spot Father Christmas flying through the sky. She died the following year so that was our last Christmas together.
8. When and how did you learn the truth about santa ?
I was about nine years old and it was a kid at school, the little sh.. Never the same after that but have had the magic of bringing up my kids to believe.
9.Do you open a gift on Christmas eve ?
NO.....Definitely not...a very naughty thing to do...Hee Hee.
10. How do you decorate your Christmas tree ?
We have decorations that have been handed down through the generations and so they take pride of place. The rest is up to the kids to decide.
11. Snow ! Love it or dread it ?
It would be nice on Christmas day but for the rest of the time...Dread...Unless we are skiing of course.
12. Can you ice skate ?
About as well as Bambi can
13. Do you remember your favourite gift ?
OH YES !! My wife bought me a WW2 flying jacket, fur lined and toasty warm...I still wear it.
14. What's the most important thing about the holidays for you ?
Family...Being together as a family.
15. What's your favourite holiday dessert ?
Christmas pudding...No doubt about it....Lots of brandy poured over it then set alight...Wow. My dad once said that he didn't have any brandy so was going to use paraffin instead. He gave me my sense of humour.
16. What tops your tree ?
A fairy...And the kids ALWAYS fight over whos turn it is to put it up...Grrr.
17. Which do you prefer, giving or receiving ?
Are we talking spankings here or what ? Either way it's the latter....I know, I know, you are all tutting now and shaking your heads.
18. Candy canes...Yuk or Yum ?
There's only one type of cane that I like and it ain't made of candy. Ho Ho Ho.
19. Favourite Christmas show ?
Used to be Morecombe and Wise but Mrs. Browns' Boys has overtaken them now in my book.
20. What is you favourite Christmas song ?
Chris De Burgh..A Spaceman came travelling.
Any comments are welcome....
Kind regards,
Garyntboy.
Happy Christmas everyone...
Thursday, 19 December 2013
Wednesday, 11 December 2013
Three strikes and you're OUCH !!!!
I don't know if it was because I hadn't had a spanking for a while or because she is getting better at laying on the paddle but I DO know now, that it is not a good idea to call her a 'Strict old scroat' whilst she has the paddle in her hands.
Six more hard thwacks and then she picked up the tawse saying,
'I don't think you are in any position to be cheeky young man, that deserves the tawse.'
She then stated to lay on some strokes, (I don't remember how many) but then paused, saying,
'Aren't you going to count them then?'
'I didn't know I had to,' I replied.
'You're getting six now and then we will continue your punishment after dinner, if you misbehave anymore this afternoon you will be getting the cane!'
I took the six without too much fuss, counting each one in turn but then my I.D. (inner devil, remember him?) returned at the most inopportune moment.
'Oooo, promises, promises,' someone blurted out.
Mistake No: 1 !
Whist she was on the computer and called for my assistance in finding a page she had been on earlier, I pointed it out saying,
'There, you blind bat!'
The look she gave me over her glasses while still sat down said it all.
Mistake No: 2 !
But Gary being Gary, has to push it......So...
Preparing dinner and I happened to say that the Stilton cheese I was grating smelled as bad as her feet.
That one broke the camels back, so to speak.
Mistake No: 3
I was put over the end of our couch and four strokes of the cane applied before my pants came down.
'Twelve strokes my man, and they are all going to be good ones, so you'd better keep count or else.'
I was a good boy for the rest of the evening !!!!!!
Kind regards,
Garyntboy.
Six more hard thwacks and then she picked up the tawse saying,
'I don't think you are in any position to be cheeky young man, that deserves the tawse.'
She then stated to lay on some strokes, (I don't remember how many) but then paused, saying,
'Aren't you going to count them then?'
'I didn't know I had to,' I replied.
'You're getting six now and then we will continue your punishment after dinner, if you misbehave anymore this afternoon you will be getting the cane!'
I took the six without too much fuss, counting each one in turn but then my I.D. (inner devil, remember him?) returned at the most inopportune moment.
'Oooo, promises, promises,' someone blurted out.
Mistake No: 1 !
Whist she was on the computer and called for my assistance in finding a page she had been on earlier, I pointed it out saying,
'There, you blind bat!'
The look she gave me over her glasses while still sat down said it all.
Mistake No: 2 !
But Gary being Gary, has to push it......So...
Preparing dinner and I happened to say that the Stilton cheese I was grating smelled as bad as her feet.
That one broke the camels back, so to speak.
Mistake No: 3
I was put over the end of our couch and four strokes of the cane applied before my pants came down.
'Twelve strokes my man, and they are all going to be good ones, so you'd better keep count or else.'
I was a good boy for the rest of the evening !!!!!!
Kind regards,
Garyntboy.
Monday, 9 December 2013
Monday morning blues cure
A German guy approaches a lady of the night.
'I vish to buy sex viz you.'
'ok,' says the girl,'I charge £50 an hour.'
'...ist good, but I must varn you, I am a little kinky.'
'No problem, I can do kinky,'says the girl.
So off they go to her flat, where the German produces four bedsprings and a duck caller.
'I vant zat you tie ze springs to each of your hans unt knees.'
The girl finds this most odd but complies, fastening the springs as he had said to her hands and knees.
'Now you vill get on your hans unt knees.'
She duly does this, balancing precariously on the springs.
'You vill please to blow on ze kvacker as I make love to you.'
She finds this odd, but figures it's harmless (and the guy is paying).
The sex is fantastic, as she is bounced all around the room by the energetic German, all the time honking on the duck caller.
Her climax is the most intense that she has ever experienced and it is several minutes before she can speak.
'Wow, that was totally amazing, what do you call that position ?'
'Ah' says the German, Zat is ze.....................
'Four Sprung Duck Technique.'
Happy Monday,
Kind regards,
Gary.
'I vish to buy sex viz you.'
'ok,' says the girl,'I charge £50 an hour.'
'...ist good, but I must varn you, I am a little kinky.'
'No problem, I can do kinky,'says the girl.
So off they go to her flat, where the German produces four bedsprings and a duck caller.
'I vant zat you tie ze springs to each of your hans unt knees.'
The girl finds this most odd but complies, fastening the springs as he had said to her hands and knees.
'Now you vill get on your hans unt knees.'
She duly does this, balancing precariously on the springs.
'You vill please to blow on ze kvacker as I make love to you.'
She finds this odd, but figures it's harmless (and the guy is paying).
The sex is fantastic, as she is bounced all around the room by the energetic German, all the time honking on the duck caller.
Her climax is the most intense that she has ever experienced and it is several minutes before she can speak.
'Wow, that was totally amazing, what do you call that position ?'
'Ah' says the German, Zat is ze.....................
'Four Sprung Duck Technique.'
Happy Monday,
Kind regards,
Gary.
Friday, 6 December 2013
Fifty Shades Film
So....The powers that be can't decide what rating to award the upcoming film, 'Fifty shades of grey.' My guess is that if they rate it an 18+ it will be a resounding flop because the British public are far too reserved to be seen entering a cinema with 'sleaze' written all over the place. On the other hand, the dvd (when it comes out) will be a massive hit.
What do you all think ?
Or is everybody too scared to mention the film, just as actors never mention Macbeth. Sorry. That scottish play.
Kind regards,
Gary.
What do you all think ?
Or is everybody too scared to mention the film, just as actors never mention Macbeth. Sorry. That scottish play.
Kind regards,
Gary.
Sunday, 24 November 2013
The story continues......
Susan was both nervous and excited as she stood outside the huge front doors of the manor house, but she plucked up her courage and pulled on the stirrup shaped bell pull that hung to the right of the doors. No answer, no sound at all. She gave it another pull and waited a few moments more. Nothing. Not even footsteps could be heard as she pressed her left ear to the cold wooden door.
'If you ring that infernal bell once more, I shall set the dogs on you !'
Susan turned around with a start, to see Adam behind her beaming from ear to ear with a mischievous grin on his face.
'Glad you could make it, we're round the back, come.' Adam held out his hand and led Susan to the rear garden.
'Actually, I don't have any dogs and I was using the royal we, it's just the two of us I'm afraid.' Adam said whilst turning to face Susan.
'Forgive me for being presumptuous, but I would say by your demeanour that you are quite a submissive girl, am I right in thinking that ?'
His directness caught Susan by surprise and she could only blush and look down at her feet.
'Come, I want to show you something inside, you may find it quite interesting.'
Adam let go of her hand and led the way inside through the patio doors, past a large swimming pool and down a corridor to enter what looked like to Susan, a study.
A large desk in front of one of two windows and books on shelves around two of the walls, Susan caught the unmistakeable scent of wood polish and leather as she gazed slowly about the room. But what caught her attention was nestled in the far corner. Adam led her straight over to it.
'Do you know what this contraption is Susan ?'
'It looks for all the world like an old fashion stocks, Adam !' She almost spat out his name with condemnation.
'Mostly correct, it is in fact a set of brand new stocks. Spankingly brand new as it happens. Would you like to see how it works ?' His eyes now fully fixed on hers. Susan returned his stare and never so much as blinked as she spoke,
'You'll have to show me yourself, I'm not very good with machinery I'm afraid.'
At once, he sprang forward and dragged the stocks further into the middle of the room, opened them, and placed his head and arms into the slots.
'See, it's simple really,' Adam said with a great grin, but Susan was already at his side and with a crash, she shut the top part down and flicked the latch shut.
'Oow, it's pinching my wrists you bitch !' Adam whinged.
'Good, it's nice and tight then, don't want you wriggling away now do we........Mr. Johnson.'
Susan stood in front of him and slowly pulled a plimsoll from her handbag, watching his reaction as she did so.
'You don't remember me do you, Mr. Johnson ! All those years ago when you kept me behind after hockey practice.'
Susan roamed around behind him as she spoke and then without warning, yanked down his trousers.
'I bet you got your cookies off, spanking us girls with your plimsoll, well now it's payback time.' She slowly and deliberately peeled down his underpants and gave his naked bum a couple of soft taps with her hand.
Adam was dumbfounded, unable to take in what was happening, unable to comprehend his predicament. His mind raging with his inability to remember who this woman was.
Susan took up position along side her victim and tapped his bottom twice with her plimsoll, then withdrew her hand back to it's full extent and brought it down with all the force she could muster. The smack seemed to echo throughout the whole room followed closely by the most unearthly girlie scream that could be emitted from a grown man. The red angry pattern of a shoe print immediately appeared on Adams' left butt cheek and Susan couldn't help but admire her handiwork for a few seconds before applying the same treatment to his right cheek.
Smack !!
'Six is best eh ? Well I tend to think that we should add a nought to the end of that six, mister !'
And with that, Susan rolled up the sleeve of her blouse and prepared herself for a very long evening of pain and punishment.
His punishment...................
Kind regards,
Garyntboy.
'If you ring that infernal bell once more, I shall set the dogs on you !'
Susan turned around with a start, to see Adam behind her beaming from ear to ear with a mischievous grin on his face.
'Glad you could make it, we're round the back, come.' Adam held out his hand and led Susan to the rear garden.
'Actually, I don't have any dogs and I was using the royal we, it's just the two of us I'm afraid.' Adam said whilst turning to face Susan.
'Forgive me for being presumptuous, but I would say by your demeanour that you are quite a submissive girl, am I right in thinking that ?'
His directness caught Susan by surprise and she could only blush and look down at her feet.
'Come, I want to show you something inside, you may find it quite interesting.'
Adam let go of her hand and led the way inside through the patio doors, past a large swimming pool and down a corridor to enter what looked like to Susan, a study.
A large desk in front of one of two windows and books on shelves around two of the walls, Susan caught the unmistakeable scent of wood polish and leather as she gazed slowly about the room. But what caught her attention was nestled in the far corner. Adam led her straight over to it.
'Do you know what this contraption is Susan ?'
'It looks for all the world like an old fashion stocks, Adam !' She almost spat out his name with condemnation.
'Mostly correct, it is in fact a set of brand new stocks. Spankingly brand new as it happens. Would you like to see how it works ?' His eyes now fully fixed on hers. Susan returned his stare and never so much as blinked as she spoke,
'You'll have to show me yourself, I'm not very good with machinery I'm afraid.'
At once, he sprang forward and dragged the stocks further into the middle of the room, opened them, and placed his head and arms into the slots.
'See, it's simple really,' Adam said with a great grin, but Susan was already at his side and with a crash, she shut the top part down and flicked the latch shut.
'Oow, it's pinching my wrists you bitch !' Adam whinged.
'Good, it's nice and tight then, don't want you wriggling away now do we........Mr. Johnson.'
Susan stood in front of him and slowly pulled a plimsoll from her handbag, watching his reaction as she did so.
'You don't remember me do you, Mr. Johnson ! All those years ago when you kept me behind after hockey practice.'
Susan roamed around behind him as she spoke and then without warning, yanked down his trousers.
'I bet you got your cookies off, spanking us girls with your plimsoll, well now it's payback time.' She slowly and deliberately peeled down his underpants and gave his naked bum a couple of soft taps with her hand.
Adam was dumbfounded, unable to take in what was happening, unable to comprehend his predicament. His mind raging with his inability to remember who this woman was.
Susan took up position along side her victim and tapped his bottom twice with her plimsoll, then withdrew her hand back to it's full extent and brought it down with all the force she could muster. The smack seemed to echo throughout the whole room followed closely by the most unearthly girlie scream that could be emitted from a grown man. The red angry pattern of a shoe print immediately appeared on Adams' left butt cheek and Susan couldn't help but admire her handiwork for a few seconds before applying the same treatment to his right cheek.
Smack !!
'Six is best eh ? Well I tend to think that we should add a nought to the end of that six, mister !'
And with that, Susan rolled up the sleeve of her blouse and prepared herself for a very long evening of pain and punishment.
His punishment...................
Kind regards,
Garyntboy.
Wednesday, 20 November 2013
SIX IS BEST (a fantasy).
Even at the tender age of fifteen, Susan had known of her sexual preferences, of her innermost desires and fantasies. Ever since her P.E. teacher had kept her behind after class for messing around during hockey practice and then proceeded to smack her pantie clad bottom with his plimsoll, she had realised how horny a spanking made her. How wet down below she became as the burning pleasure accosted her young firm buttocks. Now though, a woman in her mid thirties and one bitter divorce behind her, she wondered if her life could ever be fully fulfilled, if she could ever find that one special man she so desperately sought.
The small cottage on the outskirts of a tiny village was the one good thing that had come from her twelve years of marriage, the picture postcard cottage that, in winter when the snow hung from the thatched roof like drapes around a window, and in spring, glistened among the new blooms of snowdrops and daffodils. Her only annoyance was that her back garden bordered the grounds of the local manor house, a magnificent English country mansion with a thousand acres of rich pastures and old oaks dotted among the grounds. Woods of beech and birch, larch and horse chestnut surrounded almost the entire estate and Susan delighted in wandering amongs them on warm summer afternoons. Until that is, one such walk was interrupted by an approaching man, clothed in tweed from top to toe and carrying a rather nasty looking gun underneath his arm.
This was 'HIS LAND', he had rudely stated, and she had no business trespassing on it. Not wanting to cause an upset, she had left without so much as a word, but something HAD upset her. In her unconscious mind she had found it quite exciting, quite exhilarating to be told off at her age. And so a plan began to form.
Down at the local pub, Susan sat alone in a quiet corner and leisurely picked at her meal of steak and ale pie whilst pondering what her next move could be. First, she thought, I must find out the name of this pompous land owner. She didn't have to wait very much longer, for seeing that her knife and fork was together on her unfinished plate, the landlady came over to her and asked politely if she had finished.
'Too much for me I'm afraid, but the pie was lovely, did you make it yourself ?' Susan asked.
'Yes dearie, I try to 'omebake as much as I can, what with prices these days,' the landlady replied, 'Don't you live in the gamekeepers cottage, back o' Lord Johnsons ?'
'Yes, that's right, how did you know ?' Susan said, slightly taken aback by her knowledge.
'Small village this, you met 'im yet then ?'
'Only the once, when he shooed me off his property.'
' Ees a rum un, so I 'ear, has these wild parties an' all.'
Susans' mind began to race and visions of guests in masks and 16th century attire flashed before her as the landlady disappeared into the kitchen carrying her plate.
The next morning Susan busied herself with housework, the washing had caught up on her and seeing as it was blowing a nice warm breeze outside, she collected the bundle from the machine and stepped out her back door to hang the washing on the line. She hadn't gone two steps when suddenly she froze, there at the bottom of her garden stood the self same man she had met the day before, Mr. tweed, leaning on a thumb stick. Steeling herself, she flung her head back and strode purposefully forward, determination engraved on her face.
'We meet again,' she said, still a few paces from the end of her property. It was then that she sadly noted that Mr. tweed was actually the other side of her chicken wire fencing. Her thunder taken slightly, she changed tack.
'Nice of you to drop by,' her eyes meeting his as he smiled and nodded to her.
'I've come to apologise madam, for my behaviour yesterday, I was not in the best of moods I'm afraid,' Mr tweed said as he removed his cap. He spoke again but Susan was still drenched in his hazelnut brown eyes, her mouth now slightly but noticeably open. Then she realised that he had asked her something and was awaiting a reply.
'I'm sorry, I, I,' she stammered, then regaining composure said, 'I'm Susan, pleased to meet you,' her face flushed and outstretched hand trembling slightly.
'Adam,' said Mr. tweed, meeting her hand with his. 'I said, you keep your garden in good order, are you a country girl ?' Adam repeated but with no hint of annoyance.
' I'm afraid not, born and bred Londoner, but I've always dreamt of owning my own country cottage,' Susan half turning and presenting her home with her hand. Adam smiled at her gesture but then brought his clenched hand up to his mouth to cough, so as to hide his amusement at her modest prowess. Susan didn't notice.
'A grand old cottage indeed, used to be old Toms' place,' Adam stated matter of factly. 'But you really shouldn't stray onto your neighbours land, you naughty girl.'
The last two words making the hair on the back of Susans' neck stand on end and her inner muscles clench slightly.
'I haven't been called that since school,' Susan retorted, her heart now beating faster.
'Then perhaps you should be schooled a little more Susan,' his eyes widening as he spoke.
Susan desperately clambered for a distraction and so put down her washing basket and began pegging the clothes out. But her chest was now pounding inside and she could feel herself shake as she struggled to regain a semblance of composure.
'Why don't you come up for tea later, about six, and we could discuss this matter further,' his voice breaking the awkward silence that had fallen between them.
'Yes, yes if you like,' Susan stuttered, not even turning to face him for fear he might see how red with embarrassment her face was.
'Six it is then,' and as he turned away she heard him say, almost to himself but loud enough, 'I find six is always best.' And with that he thrashed at some stinging nettles with the stick.
...............................................
The small cottage on the outskirts of a tiny village was the one good thing that had come from her twelve years of marriage, the picture postcard cottage that, in winter when the snow hung from the thatched roof like drapes around a window, and in spring, glistened among the new blooms of snowdrops and daffodils. Her only annoyance was that her back garden bordered the grounds of the local manor house, a magnificent English country mansion with a thousand acres of rich pastures and old oaks dotted among the grounds. Woods of beech and birch, larch and horse chestnut surrounded almost the entire estate and Susan delighted in wandering amongs them on warm summer afternoons. Until that is, one such walk was interrupted by an approaching man, clothed in tweed from top to toe and carrying a rather nasty looking gun underneath his arm.
This was 'HIS LAND', he had rudely stated, and she had no business trespassing on it. Not wanting to cause an upset, she had left without so much as a word, but something HAD upset her. In her unconscious mind she had found it quite exciting, quite exhilarating to be told off at her age. And so a plan began to form.
Down at the local pub, Susan sat alone in a quiet corner and leisurely picked at her meal of steak and ale pie whilst pondering what her next move could be. First, she thought, I must find out the name of this pompous land owner. She didn't have to wait very much longer, for seeing that her knife and fork was together on her unfinished plate, the landlady came over to her and asked politely if she had finished.
'Too much for me I'm afraid, but the pie was lovely, did you make it yourself ?' Susan asked.
'Yes dearie, I try to 'omebake as much as I can, what with prices these days,' the landlady replied, 'Don't you live in the gamekeepers cottage, back o' Lord Johnsons ?'
'Yes, that's right, how did you know ?' Susan said, slightly taken aback by her knowledge.
'Small village this, you met 'im yet then ?'
'Only the once, when he shooed me off his property.'
' Ees a rum un, so I 'ear, has these wild parties an' all.'
Susans' mind began to race and visions of guests in masks and 16th century attire flashed before her as the landlady disappeared into the kitchen carrying her plate.
The next morning Susan busied herself with housework, the washing had caught up on her and seeing as it was blowing a nice warm breeze outside, she collected the bundle from the machine and stepped out her back door to hang the washing on the line. She hadn't gone two steps when suddenly she froze, there at the bottom of her garden stood the self same man she had met the day before, Mr. tweed, leaning on a thumb stick. Steeling herself, she flung her head back and strode purposefully forward, determination engraved on her face.
'We meet again,' she said, still a few paces from the end of her property. It was then that she sadly noted that Mr. tweed was actually the other side of her chicken wire fencing. Her thunder taken slightly, she changed tack.
'Nice of you to drop by,' her eyes meeting his as he smiled and nodded to her.
'I've come to apologise madam, for my behaviour yesterday, I was not in the best of moods I'm afraid,' Mr tweed said as he removed his cap. He spoke again but Susan was still drenched in his hazelnut brown eyes, her mouth now slightly but noticeably open. Then she realised that he had asked her something and was awaiting a reply.
'I'm sorry, I, I,' she stammered, then regaining composure said, 'I'm Susan, pleased to meet you,' her face flushed and outstretched hand trembling slightly.
'Adam,' said Mr. tweed, meeting her hand with his. 'I said, you keep your garden in good order, are you a country girl ?' Adam repeated but with no hint of annoyance.
' I'm afraid not, born and bred Londoner, but I've always dreamt of owning my own country cottage,' Susan half turning and presenting her home with her hand. Adam smiled at her gesture but then brought his clenched hand up to his mouth to cough, so as to hide his amusement at her modest prowess. Susan didn't notice.
'A grand old cottage indeed, used to be old Toms' place,' Adam stated matter of factly. 'But you really shouldn't stray onto your neighbours land, you naughty girl.'
The last two words making the hair on the back of Susans' neck stand on end and her inner muscles clench slightly.
'I haven't been called that since school,' Susan retorted, her heart now beating faster.
'Then perhaps you should be schooled a little more Susan,' his eyes widening as he spoke.
Susan desperately clambered for a distraction and so put down her washing basket and began pegging the clothes out. But her chest was now pounding inside and she could feel herself shake as she struggled to regain a semblance of composure.
'Why don't you come up for tea later, about six, and we could discuss this matter further,' his voice breaking the awkward silence that had fallen between them.
'Yes, yes if you like,' Susan stuttered, not even turning to face him for fear he might see how red with embarrassment her face was.
'Six it is then,' and as he turned away she heard him say, almost to himself but loud enough, 'I find six is always best.' And with that he thrashed at some stinging nettles with the stick.
...............................................
Tuesday, 12 November 2013
Thursday, 7 November 2013
The Top and Bottom.
Every now and again, we like to play a game between us. But before your naughty minds go off on a tangent, let me explain further. The game was ten pin bowling and the bet was one cane stroke for every point difference in our scores, or, if she was the loser, they would be paddle strokes. (I still don't feel comfortable in giving her the cane, I know only too well how much it stings!).
So, a win win situation, as far as I was concerned, but my male ego and natural competitiveness would not allow me to lose on purpose. I never do. Trouble is though, my wife is like minded and although I hate to admit it, she is a better bowler than me.
There....I said it hun.....Put it in writing for all to see.
So, the top and bottom of this is...........(nice phrase that eh?) Twenty strokes of the cane, all on the bare of course. We just have to fit it into our busy and not very often alone, lives. I'm sure lots of other couples have the self same frustrating problems, but that doesn't make the waiting any easier.
Meantime, perhaps I should propose a double or nothing wager.......Anyone for tennis ????
Please feel free to comment, don't be shy, be naughty !
Kind regards,
Garyntboy.
The story continues...................................................
Much apologies for this late development and to those that have commented already, sorry Hermione, but........... As you can see, the debt has been paid in full.
Wouldn't you know it but we had a spare few moments this afternoon and my wife, bless her cotton socks, decided that I had waited long enough for my punishment.
So, a win win situation, as far as I was concerned, but my male ego and natural competitiveness would not allow me to lose on purpose. I never do. Trouble is though, my wife is like minded and although I hate to admit it, she is a better bowler than me.
There....I said it hun.....Put it in writing for all to see.
So, the top and bottom of this is...........(nice phrase that eh?) Twenty strokes of the cane, all on the bare of course. We just have to fit it into our busy and not very often alone, lives. I'm sure lots of other couples have the self same frustrating problems, but that doesn't make the waiting any easier.
Meantime, perhaps I should propose a double or nothing wager.......Anyone for tennis ????
Please feel free to comment, don't be shy, be naughty !
Kind regards,
Garyntboy.
The story continues...................................................
Much apologies for this late development and to those that have commented already, sorry Hermione, but........... As you can see, the debt has been paid in full.
Wouldn't you know it but we had a spare few moments this afternoon and my wife, bless her cotton socks, decided that I had waited long enough for my punishment.
Tuesday, 22 October 2013
MEN WHO LACK FEMALE SUPERVISION
Just had these sent to me and just HAD to share........
SO FUNNY, AND SO TRUE........
Now THAT'S relaxing
Oooh Brother !!!!
Just love to do this one day
I hope SOME of them were full !
My favourite by far.....
Well you can't call him lazy eh ?
Why didn't I think of that !!!
Hope they made you smile.......
I did !
Kind regards,
Gary.
SO FUNNY, AND SO TRUE........
My favourite by far.....
Hope they made you smile.......
I did !
Kind regards,
Gary.
Friday, 4 October 2013
BEWARE THE PINK SPATULA
If only I could regulate that brain to mouth valve, I'm sure that I would not get into so much trouble. Just a little common sense would tell me that it is NOT a good idea to ask if the white sauce is supposed to be lumpy. But hey ho, I live and learn....
One thing that I did learn was that a silicon spatula applied to a bare bottom can sting like a bastard, even a pink one like this.......
At least the lasagne was tasty later that evening, and oh, in case you were wondering, yes she did clean the spatula before AND after my spanking.
Well, wouldn't want to get lumpy sauce all over my bottom would I ?
Kind regards,
Garyntboy.
One thing that I did learn was that a silicon spatula applied to a bare bottom can sting like a bastard, even a pink one like this.......
At least the lasagne was tasty later that evening, and oh, in case you were wondering, yes she did clean the spatula before AND after my spanking.
Well, wouldn't want to get lumpy sauce all over my bottom would I ?
Kind regards,
Garyntboy.
Wednesday, 2 October 2013
You only have yourself to blame.
There are certain things in married life that a husband should NOT forget, such as....Birthdays......Anniversaries......to get the washing in when it starts to rain !! At least I can get two of those three right, but when a wife comes home to find you laying on the couch watching tele. and sees her precious delicates drenched upon the washing line, then sparks may well fly. And in our household now, they invariably fly from my bottom.
Such was the situation last Monday, when a very interesting program on the history of mammals was rudely interrupted by a most irate spouse, standing in the doorway with water dripping occasionally from her petite nose. Her hair a bedraggled mat of sodden fibres and a distinctive wet patch down the entire front of her dress. After I had endured the barrage of verbal abuse and threats of physical violence against my most precious of possessions....yes that's right....my golf clubs, I tactfully offered to make her a 'nice cup of tea,' and to run a bath for her.
Calm was restored and forgiveness wafted among the scented bubbles of a steaming bath.......And look...there goes a pig, flying past our window. I don't suppose for a minute that I am alone in having a wife that can outwardly portray the serenity of a nun but inside is fuming like Vesuvius, just waiting to erupt when one least expects it. And so that, dear reader, would likely explain why I am tenderly sitting on a very sore, striped bottom, writing this account.
'You only have yourself to blame,' she said as she ran the leather tawse through her left hand. I, was bent over all four pillows piled on our bed, my bare arse already glowing from the five or so minute hand spanking she'd given me over her lap.
Damn that thing, I can't think what possessed me to buy such a stingy implement. Oh, wait a minute.....now I remember !!!
See...my memory is getting better all the time.
Kind regards,
Garyntboy.
Such was the situation last Monday, when a very interesting program on the history of mammals was rudely interrupted by a most irate spouse, standing in the doorway with water dripping occasionally from her petite nose. Her hair a bedraggled mat of sodden fibres and a distinctive wet patch down the entire front of her dress. After I had endured the barrage of verbal abuse and threats of physical violence against my most precious of possessions....yes that's right....my golf clubs, I tactfully offered to make her a 'nice cup of tea,' and to run a bath for her.
Calm was restored and forgiveness wafted among the scented bubbles of a steaming bath.......And look...there goes a pig, flying past our window. I don't suppose for a minute that I am alone in having a wife that can outwardly portray the serenity of a nun but inside is fuming like Vesuvius, just waiting to erupt when one least expects it. And so that, dear reader, would likely explain why I am tenderly sitting on a very sore, striped bottom, writing this account.
'You only have yourself to blame,' she said as she ran the leather tawse through her left hand. I, was bent over all four pillows piled on our bed, my bare arse already glowing from the five or so minute hand spanking she'd given me over her lap.
Damn that thing, I can't think what possessed me to buy such a stingy implement. Oh, wait a minute.....now I remember !!!
See...my memory is getting better all the time.
Kind regards,
Garyntboy.
Thursday, 26 September 2013
GARY SPANKS HIS NAUGHTY GIRL.
'Darling, the light bulb is stuck.'
That was all I heard, seeing as I was in the living room at the time. But then, my wife does have a habit of trying to talk to me through walls within the house anyway.
Next day, and I had completely forgotten the comment, until that is, I looked up at the light bulb in the ceiling of the kitchen to find it dangling by a mere thread of filament. The glass bulb being completely detached from the metal contact part. I was instantly angered at the recklessness of my wife just leaving the bulb in such a state. Not only the risk of electrocution but also the shards of glass that would have projectiled out as it smashed onto our worktop, (it was directly above it).
'Did you just leave that bulb hanging like that?' I said, only slightly portraying my annoyance.
'I told you about it yesterday,' she replied, but not really answering my question.
So I repeated myself and got the answer that I had suspected all along.
'I gave it a twist and it just came away in my hand,' her blue eyes flashing at me with adolescent innocence.
In all fairness I knew that I was partly to blame for not seeing to it sooner, but this was just the chance that I had been hoping for to exact a little payback.
'Why didn't you tell me that it was broken off, it was hanging by a thread,' I admonished.
Several stumbled explanations later and I knew that this time I could take the upper hand. Just as when they announce the result of a vote in parliament and say 'the ayes have it,' I knew from her posture and upward glances at me, that this woman wanted a spanking from me.
'Right young lady, over my knee!' I said as I seated myself at a kitchen chair.
With an empty house and no chance of disturbance for a good few hours yet, I put on my sternest face and glared at her. She offered her protests but still slowly walked towards me, a resolved look upon her face.
Offering me her hand, she meekly lowered herself over my lap and quickly settled to accept her punishment, even pushing her bottom up into a more prominent position. I didn't hesitate for a moment and swiftly pulled down her relaxey pants (not sure of the spelling of that, sorry) to expose those wonderful globes of prominent buttocks.
'You have behaved most recklessly leaving that light bulb in such a state, and you deserve a good spanking for it,' I stated.
My oh my, what a glorious feeling it was to be the disciplinarian for once. And I didn't go easy on her either. My hand smacked down for maybe five or six times before I heard a whimper from her. The red hue just beginning to show on her lower bottom, I shifted my aim higher so as to spread the intensity of the spanking, (a trick I had learnt from my headmaster).
'You're damn lucky that I don't take the paddle to you,' I told her as she started to squirm over my lap, her owws and ouchs coming after every smack now.
Having thoroughly spanked the whole area of her bottom, now a nice deep shade of red, I rested my hand on her lower back.
'Shall I continue, or will you offer me an apology for your reckless behaviour?' I said, quite surprised at her obedient posture.
'I'm sorry sir,' she said in a higher toned voice than normal.
'Then you may get up,' I answered, not bothering to pull up her relaxey pants.
She then stood and pouted, with her lower lip showing more prominent, and began rubbing her behind with both hands. I gave her a few moments to recover herself then stood, offered her my hand, and led her upstairs to the bedroom..........
As a footnote....
The very next day I had to replace another bulb in the kitchen ceiling and it too broke off as I unscrewed it. Turns out that the bulbs that 'I' bought several weeks ago from a yard sale were cheap and nasty.....ooops.
Don't tell the wife !!!!
Kind regards,
Gary.
That was all I heard, seeing as I was in the living room at the time. But then, my wife does have a habit of trying to talk to me through walls within the house anyway.
Next day, and I had completely forgotten the comment, until that is, I looked up at the light bulb in the ceiling of the kitchen to find it dangling by a mere thread of filament. The glass bulb being completely detached from the metal contact part. I was instantly angered at the recklessness of my wife just leaving the bulb in such a state. Not only the risk of electrocution but also the shards of glass that would have projectiled out as it smashed onto our worktop, (it was directly above it).
'Did you just leave that bulb hanging like that?' I said, only slightly portraying my annoyance.
'I told you about it yesterday,' she replied, but not really answering my question.
So I repeated myself and got the answer that I had suspected all along.
'I gave it a twist and it just came away in my hand,' her blue eyes flashing at me with adolescent innocence.
In all fairness I knew that I was partly to blame for not seeing to it sooner, but this was just the chance that I had been hoping for to exact a little payback.
'Why didn't you tell me that it was broken off, it was hanging by a thread,' I admonished.
Several stumbled explanations later and I knew that this time I could take the upper hand. Just as when they announce the result of a vote in parliament and say 'the ayes have it,' I knew from her posture and upward glances at me, that this woman wanted a spanking from me.
'Right young lady, over my knee!' I said as I seated myself at a kitchen chair.
With an empty house and no chance of disturbance for a good few hours yet, I put on my sternest face and glared at her. She offered her protests but still slowly walked towards me, a resolved look upon her face.
Offering me her hand, she meekly lowered herself over my lap and quickly settled to accept her punishment, even pushing her bottom up into a more prominent position. I didn't hesitate for a moment and swiftly pulled down her relaxey pants (not sure of the spelling of that, sorry) to expose those wonderful globes of prominent buttocks.
'You have behaved most recklessly leaving that light bulb in such a state, and you deserve a good spanking for it,' I stated.
My oh my, what a glorious feeling it was to be the disciplinarian for once. And I didn't go easy on her either. My hand smacked down for maybe five or six times before I heard a whimper from her. The red hue just beginning to show on her lower bottom, I shifted my aim higher so as to spread the intensity of the spanking, (a trick I had learnt from my headmaster).
'You're damn lucky that I don't take the paddle to you,' I told her as she started to squirm over my lap, her owws and ouchs coming after every smack now.
Having thoroughly spanked the whole area of her bottom, now a nice deep shade of red, I rested my hand on her lower back.
'Shall I continue, or will you offer me an apology for your reckless behaviour?' I said, quite surprised at her obedient posture.
'I'm sorry sir,' she said in a higher toned voice than normal.
'Then you may get up,' I answered, not bothering to pull up her relaxey pants.
She then stood and pouted, with her lower lip showing more prominent, and began rubbing her behind with both hands. I gave her a few moments to recover herself then stood, offered her my hand, and led her upstairs to the bedroom..........
As a footnote....
The very next day I had to replace another bulb in the kitchen ceiling and it too broke off as I unscrewed it. Turns out that the bulbs that 'I' bought several weeks ago from a yard sale were cheap and nasty.....ooops.
Don't tell the wife !!!!
Kind regards,
Gary.
Thursday, 12 September 2013
Maintenance Spanking....(or was it revenge?)
As I have previously stated, we are not in D.D. relationship and nor can I see us being so, or so I thought. For all our previous playtimes have been exactly that, play!...But something changed the other night when we went to bed, something definitely changed.
It had been exactly 34 days since my return from Thrashwells school and no spankings had taken place, not even a suggestion of one in the offing. Save for the occasional swat on my behind in the kitchen whilst I prepared dinner, we had been in a small trough as far as spankings are concerned. But then, out of the blue, my wife said to me as I was already in bed,
'So you don't want a spanking tonight eh?'
At which, I leapt out of bed and stood before her naked, my eyes lowered and my hands in front of me.
'Choose your implement,' she said, with no hint of malice or anger in her voice.
The leather paddle being the lesser of evils within our toy list, I chose that one, foolishly believing that a warm up spanking over her knee would take some of the sting out of it.
'Now bend over the end of the bed!' her voice only slightly harder in tone.
'But don't I get a warm up first?' I whimpered rather pathetically.
No reply was offered, instead, she proceeded to spank my behind with the paddle, slowly at first but progressively faster and harder, as she then told me of her disappointments in me.
I had taken too many liberties when being allowed to attend school. I had allowed myself to be birched in front of an audience, something that she had not anticipated. I had been far too excited to be going to the venue beforehand and I had not discussed in much detail what goings on had occurred on the day...!!
Her scolding me, together with the now quite painful smacks from the leather paddle, had me squirming left and right and quite honestly, a shame came over me rather unexpectedly.
But just as suddenly as it started, she then stopped, threw the paddle onto the bed and said,
'There....you've had your spanking!'
I got back into bed and sulked.
I felt slightly shocked, slightly humiliated, but most of all, very very humbled.
Later, we talked and discussed our situation. We talked about how we could go on from this 'thing' that I have. We talked and then we made love.
I hope we can continue to talk. It is one of my major failings that I don't talk much about my feelings, or about my feelings for her. I know that I must change that. I will change that. For I love her too dearly, most deeply, to let her down again.
Kindest of regards,
Gary.
It had been exactly 34 days since my return from Thrashwells school and no spankings had taken place, not even a suggestion of one in the offing. Save for the occasional swat on my behind in the kitchen whilst I prepared dinner, we had been in a small trough as far as spankings are concerned. But then, out of the blue, my wife said to me as I was already in bed,
'So you don't want a spanking tonight eh?'
At which, I leapt out of bed and stood before her naked, my eyes lowered and my hands in front of me.
'Choose your implement,' she said, with no hint of malice or anger in her voice.
The leather paddle being the lesser of evils within our toy list, I chose that one, foolishly believing that a warm up spanking over her knee would take some of the sting out of it.
'Now bend over the end of the bed!' her voice only slightly harder in tone.
'But don't I get a warm up first?' I whimpered rather pathetically.
No reply was offered, instead, she proceeded to spank my behind with the paddle, slowly at first but progressively faster and harder, as she then told me of her disappointments in me.
I had taken too many liberties when being allowed to attend school. I had allowed myself to be birched in front of an audience, something that she had not anticipated. I had been far too excited to be going to the venue beforehand and I had not discussed in much detail what goings on had occurred on the day...!!
Her scolding me, together with the now quite painful smacks from the leather paddle, had me squirming left and right and quite honestly, a shame came over me rather unexpectedly.
But just as suddenly as it started, she then stopped, threw the paddle onto the bed and said,
'There....you've had your spanking!'
I got back into bed and sulked.
I felt slightly shocked, slightly humiliated, but most of all, very very humbled.
Later, we talked and discussed our situation. We talked about how we could go on from this 'thing' that I have. We talked and then we made love.
I hope we can continue to talk. It is one of my major failings that I don't talk much about my feelings, or about my feelings for her. I know that I must change that. I will change that. For I love her too dearly, most deeply, to let her down again.
Kindest of regards,
Gary.
Monday, 2 September 2013
Aquatic creatures of the deep
Very little has happened since my return from Thrashwells on the home front regarding spanking, and so I thought I might make a plea for a rather rare form of aquatic life form that has been spotted on the shores of Brazil. Not too many people know, or have even set eyes on this very rare creature. They are akin to mermaids and hobgoblins in that respect and yet, one has been photographed in all it's glory................
ENJOY this rare delight..............
I call it a Quadapussy !!
Kind regards,
Gary(naughty)boy.....
Who can blame me ?
ENJOY this rare delight..............
I call it a Quadapussy !!
Kind regards,
Gary(naughty)boy.....
Who can blame me ?
Thursday, 15 August 2013
A POEM FOR ALL YOU LADIES
A Woman's Poem...This truly "touching!"
And he didn't like my cake,
He said my biscuits were too hard
Not like his mother used to make.I didn't perk the coffee right
He didn't like the stew,
I didn't mend his socks
The way his mother used to do..I pondered for an answer
I was looking for a clue.
Then I turned around and
Smacked him one
Like his mother used to do.
******************************************I love a good poem, don't you ?!?!
Wednesday, 14 August 2013
Tuesday, 13 August 2013
School Report. F-
Determined not to be late again, I arrived in good time and decided that a spot of brekkie might be a good idea to start the day off.
Then, after assembly, we were split into two separate classes and made our merry way to our allotted rooms. Our drama class finished a tad earlier than next doors lesson, so, I took the opportunity of letting off a screeching balloon through their open doorway. A not so amused teacher immediately collared me and led me down the corridor to a very familiar door. The headmasters' study. Having explained my presence to the headmaster, the teacher left me to my fate.
'I'll waste non of my time on you today boy,' headmaster said whilst picking up his cane.
'Bend over the desk Gary,' his intention quite clear now.
Although I was still clothed, those first cane strokes bit and stung my bum with surprising force. Headmaster was true to his word, he even got me to shuffle further up the desk so as to get a longer swing at it.
Next lesson, and seeing as the feeling was coming back into my posterior, I decided more mischief was in order. Having asked to go to the loo, I duly left the class, went out the back door, then round the side to the open window of next doors classroom. The sound of slaps, then the vision of a naked bottom being spanked not three feet from the window, made me peer inside. So distracted was I, that I completely failed to notice that the headmaster was standing in the doorway opposite.
'Gary! What do you think you are doing boy?' 'Get yourself round here now.'
'I got lost sir.' But he didn't believe me.
Bent over his desk but this time with no protective covering over my bum, I thought, 'This is gonna hurt.'
Guess what ?
I was right !
First the ruler, yes the same one as last time, then the cane. That ruler sure does push your limits when it is administered in rapid succession. So quick in fact that I have no idea how many strokes were applied. It was almost a relief to get the cane.
Oouch !!
Rounders next, which after a change of venue because of an infestation of dog poo, went off without a hitch. Well, apart from losing the ball a few times that is.
Lunch, and one very naughty girl next to me insisted on pelting the teaching staff at the head of the table with raisins. Then she threw the screwed up empty box, right at the headmaster. Only trouble was, I was in direct eye line of him, and so.....
'Gary!'
'My study!'
'Two o'clock!'
Damn, that Fluffy can get you into trouble as quick as wink. At least she got the same instruction a few minutes later for chucking bun papers.
After lunch I still had half an hour till my appointment so, while two girls changed the class numbers round, I made and then stuck with chewing gum, a 'Changing Room' sign to the H/ms' study door.
Two o'clock arrived and three of us were lined up in the corridor, each looking slightly pensive at one another. At least I was at the back of the queue.
Not so. He called me in second.
Twelve strokes applied to my bare arse, and none too lightly either, and I went out dancing the rub your bum dance.
Later on in the afternoon, I came across Mr. Craig looking perplexed at the class 2 door. It was locked, but no one was inside, so I helpfully climbed in through the open window and unlocked it from the inside. Very good of me you would have thought. Not so in Mr. Craigs' eyes apparently. He had me bend over the garden wall and then spanked me. Now there's gratitude for you.....
Smoking got me another visit to the headmaster, and another dozen strokes to boot. But then he quizzed, nay GRILLED me, about who was responsible for putting his canes out in the flower beds. Dire consequences were threatened if I didn't own up, but it was none of my doing, so I denied all knowledge of the offence. For once, and quite rightly, he believed me, but then he asked me if I knew who WAS responsible. My smirk gave it away but still I did not divulge the culprits names.
Well I'm no snitch.
And anyway,
Fluffy and Pixie are friends of mine.......
Ooops....Did I let that slip ?
Sorry.
English spelling and punctuation next, and into my comfort zone...or so I thought.
Zero correct out of six meant 36 spanks from two teachers and then the dunces cap to add to my humiliation.
What is it that Homer says ?
DOH!
Still, at break time I got my own back. Aided by Pixie, we hid the headmasters' water jug and school bell outside his window. Then throughout the rest of the afternoon I kept asking H/M if he needed a glass of water. But he never cottoned on.
Last lesson was our drama play, and having embarrassed ourselves with that, I was free to make mischief once more.
Spotting the other class outside doing art, I wandered out to feign being a judge of their artwork. However, the headmaster also sat amongst them, and noticing earlier in the day that he had on a shelf in his study, a birch rod. I quite innocently enquired if he had had the opportunity of using it on anyone.
'Not yet Gary, Why ? Would you like to try it?'
Inner devil leapt to my shoulder at the challenge and I heard a voice say,
'Always willing to try something new sir.'
You will have to visit Mr. Geoffs' blog, 'Myspankinglifestyle' on wordpress to view the excellent pictures, but I must say that it was not as bad as expected. The burn is a gradual build up but, having said that, I would not like to be on the receiving end of 30 strokes.
And so the day had come to a close. I very much enjoyed my second term at Thrashwells and felt pleased that I had given it my all. (I just wish I had remembered to take a cushion Hermione).
My thanks and praise goes out to Mr. Geoff, our headmaster, who must have put many many hours of work to organise an event such as this. It is not a thankless task as we all do so love you sir.
And also to the teachers for their preparation in so many different and informative lessons, I say a big thank you.
Without these people, we would have no Thrashwells. Their dedication to educate is beyond doubt, but next time,
you can open your own damn door Mr. Craig.
(wink).
Kind regards,
Garyntboy.
Then, after assembly, we were split into two separate classes and made our merry way to our allotted rooms. Our drama class finished a tad earlier than next doors lesson, so, I took the opportunity of letting off a screeching balloon through their open doorway. A not so amused teacher immediately collared me and led me down the corridor to a very familiar door. The headmasters' study. Having explained my presence to the headmaster, the teacher left me to my fate.
'I'll waste non of my time on you today boy,' headmaster said whilst picking up his cane.
'Bend over the desk Gary,' his intention quite clear now.
Although I was still clothed, those first cane strokes bit and stung my bum with surprising force. Headmaster was true to his word, he even got me to shuffle further up the desk so as to get a longer swing at it.
Next lesson, and seeing as the feeling was coming back into my posterior, I decided more mischief was in order. Having asked to go to the loo, I duly left the class, went out the back door, then round the side to the open window of next doors classroom. The sound of slaps, then the vision of a naked bottom being spanked not three feet from the window, made me peer inside. So distracted was I, that I completely failed to notice that the headmaster was standing in the doorway opposite.
'Gary! What do you think you are doing boy?' 'Get yourself round here now.'
'I got lost sir.' But he didn't believe me.
Bent over his desk but this time with no protective covering over my bum, I thought, 'This is gonna hurt.'
Guess what ?
I was right !
First the ruler, yes the same one as last time, then the cane. That ruler sure does push your limits when it is administered in rapid succession. So quick in fact that I have no idea how many strokes were applied. It was almost a relief to get the cane.
Oouch !!
Rounders next, which after a change of venue because of an infestation of dog poo, went off without a hitch. Well, apart from losing the ball a few times that is.
Lunch, and one very naughty girl next to me insisted on pelting the teaching staff at the head of the table with raisins. Then she threw the screwed up empty box, right at the headmaster. Only trouble was, I was in direct eye line of him, and so.....
'Gary!'
'My study!'
'Two o'clock!'
Damn, that Fluffy can get you into trouble as quick as wink. At least she got the same instruction a few minutes later for chucking bun papers.
After lunch I still had half an hour till my appointment so, while two girls changed the class numbers round, I made and then stuck with chewing gum, a 'Changing Room' sign to the H/ms' study door.
Two o'clock arrived and three of us were lined up in the corridor, each looking slightly pensive at one another. At least I was at the back of the queue.
Not so. He called me in second.
Twelve strokes applied to my bare arse, and none too lightly either, and I went out dancing the rub your bum dance.
Later on in the afternoon, I came across Mr. Craig looking perplexed at the class 2 door. It was locked, but no one was inside, so I helpfully climbed in through the open window and unlocked it from the inside. Very good of me you would have thought. Not so in Mr. Craigs' eyes apparently. He had me bend over the garden wall and then spanked me. Now there's gratitude for you.....
Smoking got me another visit to the headmaster, and another dozen strokes to boot. But then he quizzed, nay GRILLED me, about who was responsible for putting his canes out in the flower beds. Dire consequences were threatened if I didn't own up, but it was none of my doing, so I denied all knowledge of the offence. For once, and quite rightly, he believed me, but then he asked me if I knew who WAS responsible. My smirk gave it away but still I did not divulge the culprits names.
Well I'm no snitch.
And anyway,
Fluffy and Pixie are friends of mine.......
Ooops....Did I let that slip ?
Sorry.
English spelling and punctuation next, and into my comfort zone...or so I thought.
Zero correct out of six meant 36 spanks from two teachers and then the dunces cap to add to my humiliation.
What is it that Homer says ?
DOH!
Still, at break time I got my own back. Aided by Pixie, we hid the headmasters' water jug and school bell outside his window. Then throughout the rest of the afternoon I kept asking H/M if he needed a glass of water. But he never cottoned on.
Last lesson was our drama play, and having embarrassed ourselves with that, I was free to make mischief once more.
Spotting the other class outside doing art, I wandered out to feign being a judge of their artwork. However, the headmaster also sat amongst them, and noticing earlier in the day that he had on a shelf in his study, a birch rod. I quite innocently enquired if he had had the opportunity of using it on anyone.
'Not yet Gary, Why ? Would you like to try it?'
Inner devil leapt to my shoulder at the challenge and I heard a voice say,
'Always willing to try something new sir.'
You will have to visit Mr. Geoffs' blog, 'Myspankinglifestyle' on wordpress to view the excellent pictures, but I must say that it was not as bad as expected. The burn is a gradual build up but, having said that, I would not like to be on the receiving end of 30 strokes.
And so the day had come to a close. I very much enjoyed my second term at Thrashwells and felt pleased that I had given it my all. (I just wish I had remembered to take a cushion Hermione).
My thanks and praise goes out to Mr. Geoff, our headmaster, who must have put many many hours of work to organise an event such as this. It is not a thankless task as we all do so love you sir.
And also to the teachers for their preparation in so many different and informative lessons, I say a big thank you.
Without these people, we would have no Thrashwells. Their dedication to educate is beyond doubt, but next time,
you can open your own damn door Mr. Craig.
(wink).
Kind regards,
Garyntboy.
Monday, 22 July 2013
Making a rod for my own back(side).
Ever since Miss tried a garden cane out on my bottom (and it snapped into ever decreasing lengths with every stroke), I had pondered on how to make a decent cane. Yes, I know they are available on the internet market, but I think that there is something rather satisfying about actually making an implement with ones own hands.
Thinking of what we had stored in our garage I suddenly remembered about my old fishing gear. I gave up fishing long ago when I took up golf and so, rummaging about amongst the dust and cobwebs, I eventually found what I was looking for. My old pike rod, the top piece being the main focus of my attention. So eager was I to get started, that I forgot to take a photograph of it before hand. So I borrowed one off the internet that resembled it most closely.
After a mornings work of filing and sanding down I had the last 18 inches down to about 8mm and the rest tapered gradually up to the metal rod connector, which I choose to leave on.
Now for the handle.
Knowing a trick or two about removing and refitting a golf grip, I thought this would be the easy part.......
WRONG..
The bastard would not come off an old club I had, (an eight iron). I knew I should have used a seven. Many tries and many more oaths later, I hit upon the idea of using higher pressure to force the petrol between grip and shaft. Double cylinder foot pump to the rescue, and with a whooosh and much spray of petrol, the grip was free.
Problems were had and then solved, but I think I did a pretty good job, even if I do say so myself.
Miss seems to be very pleased with it.
Kind regards,
Gary.
Thinking of what we had stored in our garage I suddenly remembered about my old fishing gear. I gave up fishing long ago when I took up golf and so, rummaging about amongst the dust and cobwebs, I eventually found what I was looking for. My old pike rod, the top piece being the main focus of my attention. So eager was I to get started, that I forgot to take a photograph of it before hand. So I borrowed one off the internet that resembled it most closely.
After a mornings work of filing and sanding down I had the last 18 inches down to about 8mm and the rest tapered gradually up to the metal rod connector, which I choose to leave on.
Now for the handle.
Knowing a trick or two about removing and refitting a golf grip, I thought this would be the easy part.......
WRONG..
The bastard would not come off an old club I had, (an eight iron). I knew I should have used a seven. Many tries and many more oaths later, I hit upon the idea of using higher pressure to force the petrol between grip and shaft. Double cylinder foot pump to the rescue, and with a whooosh and much spray of petrol, the grip was free.
Problems were had and then solved, but I think I did a pretty good job, even if I do say so myself.
Miss seems to be very pleased with it.
Kind regards,
Gary.
Thursday, 11 July 2013
The Headmaster
Good health is always something that most of us take for granted. It was therefore, a bit of a shock to learn that the headmaster has had a spell of trouble with his back. Bad enough in fact to put him in hospital for several days. Not knowing any further details, I can only hope that this is but a short term problem and of course, that he makes a full and speedy recovery.
I, as I'm sure all that know and respect you sir, wish you good health.
With the utmost sincerity sir,
Get well soon Mr.Geoff.
Kind regards,
Gary.
I, as I'm sure all that know and respect you sir, wish you good health.
With the utmost sincerity sir,
Get well soon Mr.Geoff.
Kind regards,
Gary.
Tuesday, 25 June 2013
The Final Chapter.
Frozen to the spot, not out of fear but more from anticipation, I waited for her approach. But non came. I could hear no footsteps, just my own breathing and the faint thump in my eardrums. Several times I wanted to turn my head to see if she was still sat at her chair, but resisted the temptation, convinced that this was a test of my resolve, of my will power. Then suddenly I heard them, from the far side of the room came footsteps, getting ever closer until I could palpably sense her presence behind me. Her breath just perceivable on my naked back. I startled at her voice, even though her tone was quite calm and quiet.
'Put your hands behind your back and do not resist me.'
Doing exactly that, my heart started pounding in my chest, this was exciting, the unknown, the tension.
I heard the chink of metal first, then my left wrist was clad with something cool yet not metallic. I was still puzzling this when my other wrist felt the same sensation. A resistance as I eased my hands apart told me the answer but before I could say anything she spoke again.
'I don't want you to panic, you must stay calm, do you understand?'
'Yes miss,' my answer quite natural and unhurried.
Her breath closer now and at the back of my neck, I felt her body press lightly against my bottom and her hands came into blurred view but briefly. I caught sight of something in her hands, then darkness blanked my eyes.
Try as I might, my chest pounded and my whole body suddenly trembled, uncontrollably. My knees ready to give way at any moment. She spoke again, this time on my right side, her hand placed firmly in my middle back.
'Try to stay calm Gary, I'm going to put something around your neck, it won't be tight, you will not choke, ok?'
My mind unable to take this in, I barely felt her afix it around my neck, only the sound of thumping in my ears and then something cold and heavy resting down my chest and stomach. Then it lifted, pulling ever so slightly on my neck, just the weight of it.
'I'm going to lead you to another room Gary, it isn't far, there is nothing to trip on, alright?' Her words now slightly trembled and yet I could tell there was a certain excitement in them. Shuffling at first, then slightly larger steps as the pull on my neck urged me on, I was only glad that my legs had not let me down. Glad to move again.
I didn't count the steps, had no idea how far we'd gone when suddenly her hand was flat on my chest, stopping me dead. Then it left.
'We are here Gary, now I want you to move your feet together,' her voice at a slight distance. I complied and in a moment I felt a wide strap wrap around both ankles, firmly pulled together so that bone pressed hard against bone.
Suddenly the blindfold was ripped away with the sound of velcro and my eyes adjusted to the half dim light quickly. In front of me stood a low gymnasium horse, It's surface of light brown suede bouncing light from it.
She was again behind me when she spoke, 'I'm going to cane you Gary, the twelve strokes you should have got earlier, only this time you will not move out of position.' Her voice had changed, deeper somehow, menacing.
Looking down is my natural reaction to such news and so it was only then that I saw that my feet were not only strapped together but also attached to a ringlet in the floor.
'I'm going to untie your hands now, if you struggle you will fall over and I will beat you where you lay,' the menace spat out with full meaning.
Hands released, she walked purposefully round me, taking my left arm with her. Walking past the other side of the horse she pushed it closer with her hips until it pressed against my groin.
'Bend over,' she instructed, keeping a hold of my arm. The fabric feeling cool against my midriff, I watched as she quickly wrapped an already secured leather strap to my left wrist. Repeating the process with my other arm I went limp, all tension released from my body. I was truly at her mercy.
She walked out of eyesight to my left but her footsteps betrayed her presence as they clacked on the wood flooring. A pause, then they approached again, stopped, then a swish cut the silence, followed by several undefinable number of swishes. I swallowed hard against the collar around my neck, beads of sweat beginning to appear on my forehead.
'You need not count these strokes Gary, they will come at a pace of my choosing, but you will say sorry mistress after each one, understood?'
I nodded my head, unable to bring any voice forth. That would soon be rectified.
Her footsteps neared, then stopped. I felt the light touch of her cane brush my bottom three times then......
Swish thwack! It bit into my cheeks with searing ferocity.
'Sorry mistress,' my voice miraculously returned.
Eleven more times I had to repeat those words, twelve burning stripes cutting red lines across my bottom.
Quickly, she released all my shackles and as I stood and turned to face her, she threw herself bodily to the floor infront of me, her head buried between her knees.
'Did I play my part well master?
'Was I a convincing mistress for you sir?'
Well, what do you think?
Hope someone has enjoyed this (not so short story).
I certainly enjoyed writing it....
Kind regards,
Garyntboy.
'Put your hands behind your back and do not resist me.'
Doing exactly that, my heart started pounding in my chest, this was exciting, the unknown, the tension.
I heard the chink of metal first, then my left wrist was clad with something cool yet not metallic. I was still puzzling this when my other wrist felt the same sensation. A resistance as I eased my hands apart told me the answer but before I could say anything she spoke again.
'I don't want you to panic, you must stay calm, do you understand?'
'Yes miss,' my answer quite natural and unhurried.
Her breath closer now and at the back of my neck, I felt her body press lightly against my bottom and her hands came into blurred view but briefly. I caught sight of something in her hands, then darkness blanked my eyes.
Try as I might, my chest pounded and my whole body suddenly trembled, uncontrollably. My knees ready to give way at any moment. She spoke again, this time on my right side, her hand placed firmly in my middle back.
'Try to stay calm Gary, I'm going to put something around your neck, it won't be tight, you will not choke, ok?'
My mind unable to take this in, I barely felt her afix it around my neck, only the sound of thumping in my ears and then something cold and heavy resting down my chest and stomach. Then it lifted, pulling ever so slightly on my neck, just the weight of it.
'I'm going to lead you to another room Gary, it isn't far, there is nothing to trip on, alright?' Her words now slightly trembled and yet I could tell there was a certain excitement in them. Shuffling at first, then slightly larger steps as the pull on my neck urged me on, I was only glad that my legs had not let me down. Glad to move again.
I didn't count the steps, had no idea how far we'd gone when suddenly her hand was flat on my chest, stopping me dead. Then it left.
'We are here Gary, now I want you to move your feet together,' her voice at a slight distance. I complied and in a moment I felt a wide strap wrap around both ankles, firmly pulled together so that bone pressed hard against bone.
Suddenly the blindfold was ripped away with the sound of velcro and my eyes adjusted to the half dim light quickly. In front of me stood a low gymnasium horse, It's surface of light brown suede bouncing light from it.
Looking down is my natural reaction to such news and so it was only then that I saw that my feet were not only strapped together but also attached to a ringlet in the floor.
'I'm going to untie your hands now, if you struggle you will fall over and I will beat you where you lay,' the menace spat out with full meaning.
Hands released, she walked purposefully round me, taking my left arm with her. Walking past the other side of the horse she pushed it closer with her hips until it pressed against my groin.
'Bend over,' she instructed, keeping a hold of my arm. The fabric feeling cool against my midriff, I watched as she quickly wrapped an already secured leather strap to my left wrist. Repeating the process with my other arm I went limp, all tension released from my body. I was truly at her mercy.
She walked out of eyesight to my left but her footsteps betrayed her presence as they clacked on the wood flooring. A pause, then they approached again, stopped, then a swish cut the silence, followed by several undefinable number of swishes. I swallowed hard against the collar around my neck, beads of sweat beginning to appear on my forehead.
'You need not count these strokes Gary, they will come at a pace of my choosing, but you will say sorry mistress after each one, understood?'
I nodded my head, unable to bring any voice forth. That would soon be rectified.
Her footsteps neared, then stopped. I felt the light touch of her cane brush my bottom three times then......
Swish thwack! It bit into my cheeks with searing ferocity.
'Sorry mistress,' my voice miraculously returned.
Eleven more times I had to repeat those words, twelve burning stripes cutting red lines across my bottom.
Quickly, she released all my shackles and as I stood and turned to face her, she threw herself bodily to the floor infront of me, her head buried between her knees.
'Did I play my part well master?
'Was I a convincing mistress for you sir?'
Well, what do you think?
Hope someone has enjoyed this (not so short story).
I certainly enjoyed writing it....
Kind regards,
Garyntboy.
Monday, 24 June 2013
Miss Jeanies' House (a fantasy continued).
She stood in the doorway, one hand resting on its' framework, the other on the edge of the half opened door. Her white blouse rippling slightly in the early evening breeze, showing just the very top of a tight cleavage. I'd checked on my watch just a few moments before, eight o' clock on the dot. Now I stood facing her, her glasses perched at the very end of a pencil thin nose.
'You are on time Gary, that is a good start, please, come on in.' She pushed the door ajar a little more so as to allow me entry but did not move from her position. As I carefully brushed past her I caught the whiff of her perfume, not unpleasant, and yet familiar, like a woodland just after a rain shower. My mind was immediately brought back to earth as a slap landed on my left bottom cheek, her words quickly following, 'hurry along boy, we haven't got all day!'
The door closed behind me and I paused to allow her to overtake me in the hallway, her pace was slow and quite deliberate as I followed her to a large open planned living room. I have to admit I could not take my eyes off her petite but rounded bottom as it jostled beneath her black cotton skirt. Loins tingling and the beginnings of an erection was pressing ever harder on my trouser front.
Having lead me to the far end of the living room, she then turned, pointed at a desk and chair that was nestled alongside the wall, then simply said, 'sit.' Complying without a word, I saw on the desk several blank sheets of paper and a pencil. I then heard her put something down on the floor behind me and so turning my head, I saw her sitting on a wooden wicker backed chair, not more than four feet away from me. She glared at me, her glasses now gone, but in her hand she held a black, oblong shaped paddle. Square silver studs on one side, but as she patted her other hand with it, I could see the other side was plain.
'Turn around boy, you will write down ten reasons as to why I should not spank you with this paddle and you have five minutes to do so.'
The very word 'spank' only increased the pressure down below and with inner devil now fully awakened, I simply wrote down, 'because I will enjoy it', and put down my pencil.
Five minutes is an interminably long time to wait, knowing full well that I was about to be turned over her knee with a hard on and so, I tried desperately to think of grannies undies on a washing line or muddy rugby shirts in a pile on the changing room floor. Anything to get this pounding member to relax.
The noise of a chair moving slightly then a wisp of breath in my hair told me she was immediately behind me. Buttocks clenched a little as she leaned over and took the paper from the desktop. Expecting a storm to hit, I dipped my head slightly into my shoulders and inwardly cringed.
'Well then my boy, I shall make it my goal to ensure that you don't enjoy it, come here now!'
The last three words spoken in louder, harsher terms, as she sat back down again.
'Strip,' her words not registering in my head, I blinked and was about to say 'what?' when she repeated the instruction. 'Strip, now boy!'
Face flushed a hot crimson, I began unbuttoning my shirt, hoping that the delay would buy time for willy to die down. But alas, by the time my pants were the only thing left, her patience snapped. With a swift tug and a momentary snag, they were down, but male member had sprung back up.
'You won't have that for much longer boy, over my knee.'
My focus not on her knees but on the bare thighs, half clad in black stockings, I lowered myself over, purposely pressing my cock against her left thigh. The cold surface of the paddle against my bottom suddenly left and then smacked down with a sting and a crack that made me flinch, eyes shut and mouth open, there was no time for the first burn to set in before the second one cracked down. The pain and heat growing with every spank, my breath increasing almost to a panting, I could stand my silence no longer. Ows became howls and then oaths of the gutter. But still she would not relent, the blows harder with every swear word I uttered. My squirming and writhing over her knee must have been some signal to her that the spanking should cease. Either that or she was just plain worn out herself. Whatever the reason, she now rested her hand on my burning hot buttock, her torso also heaving up and down as mine was. The pause, most welcome as it was, but I knew in my heart of hearts that all was not over. I waited for her to speak.
'Stand up and get over to that corner boy,' she said with a somewhat breathless voice. Six paces later and I was facing a cool blue painted wall, my hands just begging to rub back some feeling into my pulsating bottom, but instead they instinctively went to rest on my head.
Then the chair behind me moved again.........
Kind regards,
Garyntboy.
'You are on time Gary, that is a good start, please, come on in.' She pushed the door ajar a little more so as to allow me entry but did not move from her position. As I carefully brushed past her I caught the whiff of her perfume, not unpleasant, and yet familiar, like a woodland just after a rain shower. My mind was immediately brought back to earth as a slap landed on my left bottom cheek, her words quickly following, 'hurry along boy, we haven't got all day!'
The door closed behind me and I paused to allow her to overtake me in the hallway, her pace was slow and quite deliberate as I followed her to a large open planned living room. I have to admit I could not take my eyes off her petite but rounded bottom as it jostled beneath her black cotton skirt. Loins tingling and the beginnings of an erection was pressing ever harder on my trouser front.
Having lead me to the far end of the living room, she then turned, pointed at a desk and chair that was nestled alongside the wall, then simply said, 'sit.' Complying without a word, I saw on the desk several blank sheets of paper and a pencil. I then heard her put something down on the floor behind me and so turning my head, I saw her sitting on a wooden wicker backed chair, not more than four feet away from me. She glared at me, her glasses now gone, but in her hand she held a black, oblong shaped paddle. Square silver studs on one side, but as she patted her other hand with it, I could see the other side was plain.
'Turn around boy, you will write down ten reasons as to why I should not spank you with this paddle and you have five minutes to do so.'
The very word 'spank' only increased the pressure down below and with inner devil now fully awakened, I simply wrote down, 'because I will enjoy it', and put down my pencil.
Five minutes is an interminably long time to wait, knowing full well that I was about to be turned over her knee with a hard on and so, I tried desperately to think of grannies undies on a washing line or muddy rugby shirts in a pile on the changing room floor. Anything to get this pounding member to relax.
The noise of a chair moving slightly then a wisp of breath in my hair told me she was immediately behind me. Buttocks clenched a little as she leaned over and took the paper from the desktop. Expecting a storm to hit, I dipped my head slightly into my shoulders and inwardly cringed.
'Well then my boy, I shall make it my goal to ensure that you don't enjoy it, come here now!'
The last three words spoken in louder, harsher terms, as she sat back down again.
'Strip,' her words not registering in my head, I blinked and was about to say 'what?' when she repeated the instruction. 'Strip, now boy!'
Face flushed a hot crimson, I began unbuttoning my shirt, hoping that the delay would buy time for willy to die down. But alas, by the time my pants were the only thing left, her patience snapped. With a swift tug and a momentary snag, they were down, but male member had sprung back up.
'You won't have that for much longer boy, over my knee.'
My focus not on her knees but on the bare thighs, half clad in black stockings, I lowered myself over, purposely pressing my cock against her left thigh. The cold surface of the paddle against my bottom suddenly left and then smacked down with a sting and a crack that made me flinch, eyes shut and mouth open, there was no time for the first burn to set in before the second one cracked down. The pain and heat growing with every spank, my breath increasing almost to a panting, I could stand my silence no longer. Ows became howls and then oaths of the gutter. But still she would not relent, the blows harder with every swear word I uttered. My squirming and writhing over her knee must have been some signal to her that the spanking should cease. Either that or she was just plain worn out herself. Whatever the reason, she now rested her hand on my burning hot buttock, her torso also heaving up and down as mine was. The pause, most welcome as it was, but I knew in my heart of hearts that all was not over. I waited for her to speak.
'Stand up and get over to that corner boy,' she said with a somewhat breathless voice. Six paces later and I was facing a cool blue painted wall, my hands just begging to rub back some feeling into my pulsating bottom, but instead they instinctively went to rest on my head.
Then the chair behind me moved again.........
Kind regards,
Garyntboy.
Thursday, 20 June 2013
MISS.. interpretation
Never do today what you can put off till tomorrow, or that used to be my philosophy, until that is, when Miss found out that the tax form hadn't been filled out or the c.v. that I was supposed to create. And so, retribution was at hand.......
Quite literally in fact.
Those bloody fingers of hers' sting really bad, I reckon she must soak them in some kind of chemical to harden them up !!!
But, not content with the way I responded to the spanking, she decided that the paddle must come out of the closet......Hell...
Never let it be said that Miss leaves a job half finished, I now have three hours to get my paperwork up to date.....OR ELSE !
Kind regards,
Gary quite sore ntboy.
Those bloody fingers of hers' sting really bad, I reckon she must soak them in some kind of chemical to harden them up !!!
But, not content with the way I responded to the spanking, she decided that the paddle must come out of the closet......Hell...
Kind regards,
Gary quite sore ntboy.
Thursday, 6 June 2013
Thrashwells revisited.
Not long now until all sins will be revealed and punishments applied to the pupils of Thrashwells. I can see them now, the stern faces of teachers just itching to put an innocent (well, not quite so innocent) pupil over their knee for a sound spanking. Legs kicking and howls of protest being ignored, they will go about their tasks with great gusto. Just as well then that I will not be among them, for you see before you, a much changed boy. Gone are the days when trouble was my middle name, gone are those cheeky remarks that used to get this poor soul into much trouble and even more stripes across his posterior.
Yes dear readers, I go to Thrashwells to actually LEARN something. Be it moths (I'm not sure of which country of origin yet) or P.E. (which by the way stands for pub excursion I believe). But the seat of learning will be my home for a day and much excitement will ensue as the day gets ever closer.
The headmaster I'm sure, will have very little to do throughout the school day and so I look forward to making his acquaintance once again where we can discuss many subjects of interest.
It will be so much easier to relax into the school day, as I will this time, know at least some of the other pupils.
I just hope the bus driver can remember the way this time.
Gary....oh so angelic ntboy.
Yes dear readers, I go to Thrashwells to actually LEARN something. Be it moths (I'm not sure of which country of origin yet) or P.E. (which by the way stands for pub excursion I believe). But the seat of learning will be my home for a day and much excitement will ensue as the day gets ever closer.
The headmaster I'm sure, will have very little to do throughout the school day and so I look forward to making his acquaintance once again where we can discuss many subjects of interest.
It will be so much easier to relax into the school day, as I will this time, know at least some of the other pupils.
I just hope the bus driver can remember the way this time.
Gary....oh so angelic ntboy.
Friday, 24 May 2013
Just a walk in the park.
I love those spur of the moment decisions that we sometimes make, they invariably lead to a great day being had.
As spring had finally arrived and the day promised to be warm and still, we decided on a nice walk through the park to a local pub that we knew. We'd only commented that morning on the fact that we hadn't heard a cuckoo this year when, low and behold, there it was. Distant at first, but getting louder the farther we walked.
Along the way I had noticed a willow tree, full of bloom and nice new shoots, green and pliable.
That got my mind into spank gear. So, after a nice pint and sit down, we headed back the way we'd come.
Casually breaking off one of its' branches, I began stripping the bark from it as we continued to walk. We hadn't gone much further when she turned to me and said, 'That would sting if I was to put it across your bottom wouldn't it'?
Bingo !! Our minds were alike and at the next suitable turn-off we headed down a very quiet and secluded pathway.
Finding a dell with the fairies gone, it was time for the naughty imp to appear. Trousers and pants down, I bent over and waggled my bottom at her. Playing her part well, she began asking me nature questions at which I would reply with any old B.S.
'Swish', and another red welt would appear across both cheeks.
We must have played for a good twenty minutes before deciding we'd pushed our luck of seclusion far enough.
Heading back, she suddenly announced that she needed to pee, so, pointing out a little siding with no nettles, I persuaded her that I would keep watch. Just as she bobbed down my inner devil popped up. Pretending to greet someone with,'good afternoon, lovely day isn't it'. I saw her head pop up followed by, 'Oh shit, I've pee'ed on my trouser leg'.
'You bastard, I knew you'd do something like that', she said as she stomped towards me. But I was already doubled up with laughter, which only increased when she showed me the evidence of her mishap.
I love those impromptu days. Full of magical moments, full of fun.
I've yet to pay the price though.....
Gary....never trust what I say....ntboy.
This is though, a true story.
Kind regards,
Gary.
As spring had finally arrived and the day promised to be warm and still, we decided on a nice walk through the park to a local pub that we knew. We'd only commented that morning on the fact that we hadn't heard a cuckoo this year when, low and behold, there it was. Distant at first, but getting louder the farther we walked.
Along the way I had noticed a willow tree, full of bloom and nice new shoots, green and pliable.
Casually breaking off one of its' branches, I began stripping the bark from it as we continued to walk. We hadn't gone much further when she turned to me and said, 'That would sting if I was to put it across your bottom wouldn't it'?
Bingo !! Our minds were alike and at the next suitable turn-off we headed down a very quiet and secluded pathway.
Finding a dell with the fairies gone, it was time for the naughty imp to appear. Trousers and pants down, I bent over and waggled my bottom at her. Playing her part well, she began asking me nature questions at which I would reply with any old B.S.
'Swish', and another red welt would appear across both cheeks.
We must have played for a good twenty minutes before deciding we'd pushed our luck of seclusion far enough.
Heading back, she suddenly announced that she needed to pee, so, pointing out a little siding with no nettles, I persuaded her that I would keep watch. Just as she bobbed down my inner devil popped up. Pretending to greet someone with,'good afternoon, lovely day isn't it'. I saw her head pop up followed by, 'Oh shit, I've pee'ed on my trouser leg'.
'You bastard, I knew you'd do something like that', she said as she stomped towards me. But I was already doubled up with laughter, which only increased when she showed me the evidence of her mishap.
I love those impromptu days. Full of magical moments, full of fun.
I've yet to pay the price though.....
Gary....never trust what I say....ntboy.
This is though, a true story.
Kind regards,
Gary.
Thursday, 9 May 2013
Hell for leather ? Hell no !!
Everybody knows that excited feeling one gets when a long awaited parcel arrives. So a slight disappointment ensued when on opening it I found the D.D. paddle from The London Tanners was bent up so as to fit into the box. But oh, how beautiful it was when I lifted it out and straightened the leather paddle to its' full length. That gorgeous smell of new leather filled my nostrils and ...........Wooow there, just a minute, getting slightly carried away here.
Anyhoo...Just look at it, look at the craftsmanship of that handle.
Pretty ? Yes ?
But handsome is as handsome does, so after a few weeks, yes that's right, WEEKS, of anxious waiting, (don't you just love teenage kids that never leave the house) we finally got to try it out.
Using a variety of strengths and angles of attack, I'm sure you'll agree that the effects are quite striking.....Ha,ha, get it ? oh well, never mind.
The sound that resonates as it smacks down on my bottom is quite outstanding. And the sting that is left behind (there's another one for you) just begs to be rubbed away with feverish gusto.
Aaah yes, this is going to be a very well used implement in the future. A weapon of mass concussion in the right hands !
There's my lovely !
Ten more strokes were added after these photos were taken (the battery died on my camera, sorry) because ......
I got the question of her favourite cereal wrong. It's wheat flakes with fruit apparently....
All the previous ones being BECAUSE of my other answers.
Kind regards,
Gary (still just as) ntboy.
Anyhoo...Just look at it, look at the craftsmanship of that handle.
Pretty ? Yes ?
But handsome is as handsome does, so after a few weeks, yes that's right, WEEKS, of anxious waiting, (don't you just love teenage kids that never leave the house) we finally got to try it out.
The sound that resonates as it smacks down on my bottom is quite outstanding. And the sting that is left behind (there's another one for you) just begs to be rubbed away with feverish gusto.
There's my lovely !
Ten more strokes were added after these photos were taken (the battery died on my camera, sorry) because ......
I got the question of her favourite cereal wrong. It's wheat flakes with fruit apparently....
All the previous ones being BECAUSE of my other answers.
Kind regards,
Gary (still just as) ntboy.
Thursday, 25 April 2013
A LITTLE INSIGHT
I saw this idea on Hermiones' Heart who likewise saw it on Daisys' blog and so, seems like a good idea (I've said that before).
By the way..I had to look up the word Meme in the dictionary...I had no idea what it meant.
1. She is sitting in front of the T.V. What is on the screen?
A soap opera, Emmerdale, Coronation street or Eastenders. Yuk!
2. You're out to eat. What kind of dressing does she get on her salad?
Balsamic vinegar and a little olive oil.
3. The most striking thing about her physical appearance?
Her marble blue eyes. So beautiful !
4. You go out to eat and have a drink. What does she order?
A white wine spritzer or Pinot Grigio and then it depends on what kind of restaurant we are in. Usually something a bit spicy.
5. Where did she go to high school?
Within ten miles of where we are now.
6. What shoe size is she?
Size 6 or 5 1/2 if they have them and they fit at the time.
7. If she was to collect anything what would it be?
£50 notes. She is a right squirrel with money.
8. What is her favourite type of sandwich?
Cheese and tomato with salad cream.
9. What would she eat every day if she could?
Liquorice allsorts.
10. What is her favourite cereal?
Any crime thriller or hospital related .......oh, sorry, wrong serial. I'm being naughty again. Eeerm..Bran flakes
11. What would she never wear?
Me telling lies, she sees right through me, or, Hot pants.
12. What is her favourite sports team?
Manchester United.
13. Who did she vote for?
Conservative probably, I never ask and she never tells. Saves arguments that way.
14. Who is her best friend?
Me.
15. What is something you do that she wishes you wouldn't do?
Eer snore, smoke, fart in bed...There's quite a list.....fart at all.....(Women)..tch.
16. What is her heritage?
Half English half Welsh.....It's the Welsh side of her that comes out when she spanks me.
17. You bake her a cake for her birthday, what kind?
Ain't gonna happen. I have never baked a cake (even when I knew she was coming). Have lots of half baked ideas though.
18. Did she play sports in high school?
Hockey. And very good at it too. (she proudly pronounces that she played for the county).
19. What could she spend hours doing?
Ironing....Absolutely loves ironing (he,he, NOT)
That's another spanking coming my way.
20. What is one unique talent she has?
Apart from putting up with me for 20 years I think she has a talent for organisation. She can shuffle three different timetables within the family and still know who needs picking up from where and when.
She is my rock, my soul mate, my love, my life. I would be lost without her.
Please comment.
Kindest regards,
Gary (sometimes very nt boy).
By the way..I had to look up the word Meme in the dictionary...I had no idea what it meant.
1. She is sitting in front of the T.V. What is on the screen?
A soap opera, Emmerdale, Coronation street or Eastenders. Yuk!
2. You're out to eat. What kind of dressing does she get on her salad?
Balsamic vinegar and a little olive oil.
3. The most striking thing about her physical appearance?
Her marble blue eyes. So beautiful !
4. You go out to eat and have a drink. What does she order?
A white wine spritzer or Pinot Grigio and then it depends on what kind of restaurant we are in. Usually something a bit spicy.
5. Where did she go to high school?
Within ten miles of where we are now.
6. What shoe size is she?
Size 6 or 5 1/2 if they have them and they fit at the time.
7. If she was to collect anything what would it be?
£50 notes. She is a right squirrel with money.
8. What is her favourite type of sandwich?
Cheese and tomato with salad cream.
9. What would she eat every day if she could?
Liquorice allsorts.
10. What is her favourite cereal?
Any crime thriller or hospital related .......oh, sorry, wrong serial. I'm being naughty again. Eeerm..Bran flakes
11. What would she never wear?
Me telling lies, she sees right through me, or, Hot pants.
12. What is her favourite sports team?
Manchester United.
13. Who did she vote for?
Conservative probably, I never ask and she never tells. Saves arguments that way.
14. Who is her best friend?
Me.
15. What is something you do that she wishes you wouldn't do?
Eer snore, smoke, fart in bed...There's quite a list.....fart at all.....(Women)..tch.
16. What is her heritage?
Half English half Welsh.....It's the Welsh side of her that comes out when she spanks me.
17. You bake her a cake for her birthday, what kind?
Ain't gonna happen. I have never baked a cake (even when I knew she was coming). Have lots of half baked ideas though.
18. Did she play sports in high school?
Hockey. And very good at it too. (she proudly pronounces that she played for the county).
19. What could she spend hours doing?
Ironing....Absolutely loves ironing (he,he, NOT)
That's another spanking coming my way.
20. What is one unique talent she has?
Apart from putting up with me for 20 years I think she has a talent for organisation. She can shuffle three different timetables within the family and still know who needs picking up from where and when.
She is my rock, my soul mate, my love, my life. I would be lost without her.
Please comment.
Kindest regards,
Gary (sometimes very nt boy).
Monday, 25 March 2013
practice strokes
Now normally that would refer to my first hobby of golf, but, as we are only just starting out on our new adventure on this occasion it refers to this:
And yes, it does sting.
I must try and get it softened up somehow !!!!!
And yes, it does sting.
I must try and get it softened up somehow !!!!!
Thursday, 14 March 2013
A post for her.
I'm not entirely sure that I like labels, in fact I'm not sure of what category we would fit into anyway. All I am sure of is that I like being spanked, be it by a male or female. And now that my adorable wife has her loving husband back, in an honest and open relationship that we hoped for when we first married, I could not have wished for more.
I have no more skeletons in my dark closet, even this blog has been confessed to her and she took it all in her stride, not an eyelid (or head for that matter) was batted. She amazes me. Were the shoe on the other foot, I doubt that I could honestly say I'd react the same way.
And so another chapter in our book of love for each other has begun. She has shown me trust and I have not betrayed it. We have played and enjoyed, talked and cried, laughed and loved. And rowed, yes. But still we hold firm together. Her marble blue eyes still melt me inside.
I love you my darling.
You are my soul mate, my life.
This post is for you.
Thank you to a dear heart across the water for your advice.
Kindest regards,
Gary.
I have no more skeletons in my dark closet, even this blog has been confessed to her and she took it all in her stride, not an eyelid (or head for that matter) was batted. She amazes me. Were the shoe on the other foot, I doubt that I could honestly say I'd react the same way.
And so another chapter in our book of love for each other has begun. She has shown me trust and I have not betrayed it. We have played and enjoyed, talked and cried, laughed and loved. And rowed, yes. But still we hold firm together. Her marble blue eyes still melt me inside.
I love you my darling.
You are my soul mate, my life.
This post is for you.
Thank you to a dear heart across the water for your advice.
Kindest regards,
Gary.
Monday, 11 March 2013
Red bum in the morning,headmasters' warning.
The school bus was running late,only ten minutes to go till nine and still the stupid driver hadn't found the place. Panic was setting in. Oh crap,my first day at a new school and I would be late. Visions of the headmaster standing in the doorway flexing his cane flashed through my head as at last,the school entrance was spotted.
The tension in my stomach that I had been feeling all morning was starting to ease off as we were ushered into the main hall for assembly. Introductions and greetings over with and the school song sung,(with much enthusiasm),the day had begun.
Lesson one: Keep your head down and look interested.
And the plan was working,until a teacher entered the room and announced,'The headmaster would like to see Gary in his study'. All eyes immediately shot towards me and I heard a whispered 'what's Gary done?' As I rose from my chair I knew the answer to that whispered question. Recompense for the chewing gum on his cane. The short walk to his study was just long enough for that knot to appear below the rib cage.
My inner devil leapt out of my head and legged it down the corridor,arms flailing and screaming....I was on my own.
A playful rap da da rap rap....tap tap on his door was answered by,'come in Gary'. Blimey,he can see through doors now!
The first thing that definitely caught my attention as I entered, was the array of spanking implements arranged on his table. One in particular I had read about on his blog was a very long,dark wooded ruler. Yikes!!
My eyes lowered as he began his rhetoric on the reasons as to why I found myself in his study so early in the day. I could only answer with,'no sir' or 'yes sir', as all my courage had deserted me. I was resolved into accepting my fate.
Over his knee with trousers around my ankles,I was just thinking how kind he was to give me a warm up spanking, when my pants were peeled down after only four smacks. Then he began in earnest. Just how he can smack so hard I will never know,but my bum was stinging very quickly and the prospect of more to come was not cheering me up one bit.
I had just got to the 'ouch' stage when suddenly he stopped,ordered me to stand,then told me to bend over his table. The worrying bit came when he told me to shuffle further forward as he 'needed to get a full swing'.
I believe the saying is something like 'Hucking fell'. That nasty looking ruler as it turns out,is equally as nasty when it impacts your bottom. Unlike his cane strokes,these were coming thick and fast,even faster as he told me,'it was a very disgusting and disrespectful thing to do'. At least with the cane you get to choose the timing of the next one! Shit!
Finally..And satisfied that he had painted my bottom the correct shade of scarlet,he instructed me to dress and follow him back to class.
'Turn around and face the wall' he said as we entered the room.
'Now pull down your trousers and pants and show the class your bottom'.
'oooooooo', went the class,as well as one 'nice bum'.
Why thank you.
Several lessons later and my bottom having cooled somewhat,we were taking French. A subject that has never grasped me. And just because my fake snore happened to come during a sudden quiet period,I was sent out again....Rats..
Not at all surprised to see me,the headmaster introduced me to his new pal, Mr. Geoff.
Having tried that out,he then gave me fifteen strokes with the strap.(I forgot to count the first two),and then he gave me 'one for luck'....How kind.
So....The day was going well. All my classmates were extremely friendly and helpful,saying things like,'it was him sir!' or 'she did it!' I got to meet all the teaching staff personally,having put the t.v. on between lessons with the remote I'd found, (just before headmaster walked in). And I was the second best behaved pupil in the whole school.
The two worst behaved being 'Fluffy' and 'Pixie'. A pair of very naughty girls that even saints would have no patience with. And they were both PREFECTS. What chance did we stand? Mind you,the latter did have a very good singing voice,I wonder if she sings so sweetly whilst being spanked?
SO........
Lessons learnt were.......
The headmasters' ruler stings like a bastard.
Mr. Victors' hand stings even more than the headmasters does.
A slippering from the headmaster still heats my bottom enough to fry eggs on.
Mr. Dave tolerates NO talking at all in his lessons. (He's scary)
I still hate wooden paddles with a vengeance.
I love that strap smacking my bum.....yummy.
Fluffy and Pixie are not suitable roll models for us impressionable pupils and so should not be made prefects again.
Mr. Craig is a soft touch as he smokes behind the bike sheds with us. Hehe.
I still don't know any French....Merde !
And all the teachers,including the headmaster,are tone deaf as I was singing the wrong words to the end of school song and no one noticed..
A fantastic day was had by all,great fun and many many laughs. But I may well find myself expelled.
All comments are welcome. Don't be shy...Be naughty.
P.S. I should explain the title.......After my second visit to the headmaster he warned me that should I be sent to him again within three minutes,I would be getting the cane....I bottled it....Regrets.
The tension in my stomach that I had been feeling all morning was starting to ease off as we were ushered into the main hall for assembly. Introductions and greetings over with and the school song sung,(with much enthusiasm),the day had begun.
Lesson one: Keep your head down and look interested.
And the plan was working,until a teacher entered the room and announced,'The headmaster would like to see Gary in his study'. All eyes immediately shot towards me and I heard a whispered 'what's Gary done?' As I rose from my chair I knew the answer to that whispered question. Recompense for the chewing gum on his cane. The short walk to his study was just long enough for that knot to appear below the rib cage.
My inner devil leapt out of my head and legged it down the corridor,arms flailing and screaming....I was on my own.
A playful rap da da rap rap....tap tap on his door was answered by,'come in Gary'. Blimey,he can see through doors now!
The first thing that definitely caught my attention as I entered, was the array of spanking implements arranged on his table. One in particular I had read about on his blog was a very long,dark wooded ruler. Yikes!!
My eyes lowered as he began his rhetoric on the reasons as to why I found myself in his study so early in the day. I could only answer with,'no sir' or 'yes sir', as all my courage had deserted me. I was resolved into accepting my fate.
Over his knee with trousers around my ankles,I was just thinking how kind he was to give me a warm up spanking, when my pants were peeled down after only four smacks. Then he began in earnest. Just how he can smack so hard I will never know,but my bum was stinging very quickly and the prospect of more to come was not cheering me up one bit.
I had just got to the 'ouch' stage when suddenly he stopped,ordered me to stand,then told me to bend over his table. The worrying bit came when he told me to shuffle further forward as he 'needed to get a full swing'.
I believe the saying is something like 'Hucking fell'. That nasty looking ruler as it turns out,is equally as nasty when it impacts your bottom. Unlike his cane strokes,these were coming thick and fast,even faster as he told me,'it was a very disgusting and disrespectful thing to do'. At least with the cane you get to choose the timing of the next one! Shit!
Finally..And satisfied that he had painted my bottom the correct shade of scarlet,he instructed me to dress and follow him back to class.
'Turn around and face the wall' he said as we entered the room.
'Now pull down your trousers and pants and show the class your bottom'.
'oooooooo', went the class,as well as one 'nice bum'.
Why thank you.
Several lessons later and my bottom having cooled somewhat,we were taking French. A subject that has never grasped me. And just because my fake snore happened to come during a sudden quiet period,I was sent out again....Rats..
Not at all surprised to see me,the headmaster introduced me to his new pal, Mr. Geoff.
So....The day was going well. All my classmates were extremely friendly and helpful,saying things like,'it was him sir!' or 'she did it!' I got to meet all the teaching staff personally,having put the t.v. on between lessons with the remote I'd found, (just before headmaster walked in). And I was the second best behaved pupil in the whole school.
The two worst behaved being 'Fluffy' and 'Pixie'. A pair of very naughty girls that even saints would have no patience with. And they were both PREFECTS. What chance did we stand? Mind you,the latter did have a very good singing voice,I wonder if she sings so sweetly whilst being spanked?
SO........
Lessons learnt were.......
The headmasters' ruler stings like a bastard.
Mr. Victors' hand stings even more than the headmasters does.
A slippering from the headmaster still heats my bottom enough to fry eggs on.
Mr. Dave tolerates NO talking at all in his lessons. (He's scary)
I still hate wooden paddles with a vengeance.
I love that strap smacking my bum.....yummy.
Fluffy and Pixie are not suitable roll models for us impressionable pupils and so should not be made prefects again.
Mr. Craig is a soft touch as he smokes behind the bike sheds with us. Hehe.
I still don't know any French....Merde !
And all the teachers,including the headmaster,are tone deaf as I was singing the wrong words to the end of school song and no one noticed..
A fantastic day was had by all,great fun and many many laughs. But I may well find myself expelled.
All comments are welcome. Don't be shy...Be naughty.
P.S. I should explain the title.......After my second visit to the headmaster he warned me that should I be sent to him again within three minutes,I would be getting the cane....I bottled it....Regrets.
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