tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28767602024784132382024-03-14T04:14:49.915-07:00garyntboyThe thoughts and tales (some fictitious, some not, although I will always state those that are fantasies) of someone who has always been a naughty boy at heart.
Hope you enjoy....
garyntboyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10995447299024349858noreply@blogger.comBlogger48125truetag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876760202478413238.post-11123112337459111792016-08-27T11:16:00.001-07:002016-08-27T11:16:53.326-07:00Had a bad day<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"> A fantasy</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">
Getting dressed for school is always a chore , especially as I was
running late, as usual. Being all of thirteen years old and living with my
aunty Charlotte wasn't all that bad, she is a kindly woman and took me in some
ten years ago now. But her own harsh upbringing had taught her many things. How
to keep a thirteen year old boy in line was one of them.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">'Gary, are you dressed yet ?' Came the
familiar tone from downstairs.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">'Yes aunty, just coming' and I muttered
under my breath sounds of ecstasy whilst making a hollow fist and shaking it up
and down as I reached the top of the stairs.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">'Have you got all your school books this
time ?' aunty said as she made a beeline for my satchel hanging off the back of
the kitchen chair. Too late to intercept her I quickly replied,</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">'Yes aunty' and 'is that the postman
coming?' Pointing at the window. She didn't fall for it and proceeded to open
my satchel. My heart started pounding.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">The pause between discovery and reaction
was palpable, a mere second maybe.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">'What on earth ?' ...........</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">The previous day I had 'rented' a rather
old and tatty copy of Penthouse from Charlie Greeves for the princely sum of
two pounds, on the understanding it would be returned the next day, today !</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Charlie is a sixth former and doesn't have
a great sense of humour, well not with us third year pupils anyway. If he saw
how aunty had screwed it up and threw it in the kitchen bin I doubt a smile
would even have graced his lips. Aunty wasn't smiling either as she dragged me
by the ear, sat down on the chair, yanked my trousers down and flung me across
her thighs. I barely had time to take a breath before she pulled my underpants
down and proceeded to spank my bum with all her might. It stung like crazy and
tears were soon hitting the kitchen floor to form individual puddles.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">School was a good ten minute walk away and
it was now 08:55. I rubbed my sore bum as aunty gave my hearing a stern test.
Thankfully she turned and bustled out the door to the parlour, giving me just
enough time to retrieve Charlie's mag from the bin and stuff it down the back
of my trousers as I pulled them up.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">'Gotta go aunty, I'm late,' I shouted and
fair ran out of the house, satchel swinging behind me.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Unbeknown to me, aunty had gone into the
parlour to retrieve the leather strop with the intention of telling me what to
expect when I got home. To find me gone must have perturbed her somewhat but
not as much as when she peered into the
bin to find only last nights plate scrapings.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">'Little bugger !!!! I'll fix him,' was
probably what she had said as she lifted the telephone and then dialled the
number for my school.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Truth be told, my first port of call as I
entered the school gates was to seek out Charlie and return the article of my
downfall ( and reason for my sore posterior ), even if it did mean missing
assembly. Sixth formers never had to attend anyway and I knew he was bound to
be in the bike sheds smoking with his cronies. But before I could round the
corner of the building I heard,</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">'Gary Bartwell ! come here please,'</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Headmistress Blackburn was standing at the
main entrance and her left hand was firmly implanted on her hip whilst the
other was beckoning with one finger, straight at me.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">'Shit,' I whispered as I pushed my satchel
to my back, into which the mag had been returned whilst on the way to school.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">'What time do you call this ?' Her rhetorical
question very nearly getting a reply but for her next sentence.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">'Follow me boy !'</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Just why private Frazer popped into my head
I don't know but I could hear his catchphrase 'we're doomed' and the smile it
produced did nothing to improve Miss Blackburns mood.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">'You can wipe that silly grin off your face
for a start young man,' she said as I stood in front of her desk in the
headmistress's study.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">She then regaled the telephone conversation
she'd had that morning with my aunty, in all it's embarrassing details and then
pronounced my sentence, in a quite matter of fact fashion.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">'Six of the best is the traditional
punishment for such outrageous behaviour young man but as we have just gone
metric in our coinage, I propose to give you ten.'</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">I hardly had time to take in this
information as the knot in my stomach tightened when she added,</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">'On the bare.'</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Private Frazer fucked off and was replaced
by engineer Scottie of startrek, only this time it wasn't funny. I knew I would
shortly be hearing, 'she canee take any more captain.'</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">The headmistress got up from her chair,
slowly and purposefully walked to the corner of her study and retrieved a cane
that hung on a hook from the front of a cupboard. My eyes followed her every
step until she turned to face me, then I averted them to my feet, hoping upon
hope that what was about to happen, wouldn't.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">'I'll first like to see this magazine that
your aunt says you have,' her voice quite steady and calm. I swung my satchel
round my body and opened the flap. With shaking hand I carefully lifted it out
as if it were a ticking time bomb and placed it into her outstretched hand. I
could feel the blood rush to my face as headmistress looked down and flicked
the pages through. With a sudden motion that made me jump she slammed it down
on the table in front of me and said,</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">'Take those trousers down and place your
nose precisely in the middle of this disgusting piece of garbage !'</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">I didn't hesitate for a moment, not wanting
to anger her further, and was quickly in position with both arms outstretched
across the width of her desk, my nose pressed lightly on the cool front cover
of the magazine.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Her pace was slow and deliberate as she
rounded to my left side, her fingers taking a grip on the side of my pants.
Then I felt a cold touch of something right at the top of my crease and with a
sudden jerk the crook of the cane helped my underpants go south. My ears were
pounding with the sound of heartbeat and my stomach had shrunk to the size of a
walnut, the cane was now lightly touching the middle of my bare and shaking
bottom. It left.....then a ghostly swish and a crack and then.......nothing.....a
pause of what seemed like an age, surely that must have hurt, then oh my god, a
burn like a branding mark rushed across my cheeks. I couldn't stop it if I had
tried my hardest for a yelp escaped that surprised and shocked me. I had no time
to take all this in when the second searing stroke struck just below the first,
forcing my nose to leave the page and a second howl of anguish to fill the
room.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">The front cover was now slightly magnified
by the pool of tears that lay on it, my fists ached and my heart bursting from
the pain in my bottom. Headmistress slowly walked back to the corner, rehung
her cane and turned to walk back. Ten red and prominent stripes now adorned my
once smooth and pale bum and I flinched as she snatched the magazine from the
table.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">'I will destroy this filth young man and I
hope this has been a lesson to you, do you hear me ?'</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">I somehow managed between sobs to reply,</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">'Yes headmistress.'</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">'You can stand in the corner facing my cane
while I fill out the punishment book but don't you dare to touch your bottom
boy.'</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">This was turning out to be a very bad day I
mused whilst standing in the corner, not least because Charlie would not be
best pleased at losing one of his money makers. But looking on the bright side
at least aunty would be pleased now that the slate was wiped clean. Never one
to hold a grudge, aunty always forgave and forgot once a punishment had been
dished out..........</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Surprising how wrong a thirteenth year old
boy can be of such things. I was still blissfully unaware of the strop and my impending
appointment with it when I got home.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">It may be a ten minute walk under normal
circumstances but the way home took much longer as my bruised stomach and arms
were giving me gyp after my little 'discussion' with Charlie.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">It was official, he has no sense of humour.
But at least I had a nice tea with aunty to look forward to, but I wouldn't be
telling her of my injuries. A snitch I am not. The tear in my trouser knee
might prove a little trickier though. I know, the idea popped into my head and
seemed quite feasible, I'll say I fell while running to school that morning.
Good plan I thought as I walked up the path to the front door.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">'How was your day my little angel ?' aunty
asked as I closed the door behind me.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Now that's odd, I thought, she never calls
me that. Something's up. As I entered the kitchen aunty was standing in front
of the sink but in her hand was no washing up utensil. The strop was slowly and
very gently tapping her left hand, her eyes slightly narrow and very menacing,
bore into me. Victor Meldrew made an appearance and shouted in my brain, 'I
don't BELIEVED IT!'</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">'You can get up them stairs and wash ready
for bed,' said aunty,</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">'Then I will see you in the parlour in your
pyjamas in fifteen minutes my man.' The strop smacking slightly harder on her
hand as she spoke the last two words.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">I can empathize with the condemned man I
thought as I descended the stairs, my pyjama bottoms pressing painfully on my
bottom with every step. I was already tearful as I opened the parlour door to
be greeted by the sight of aunty sat on the Ottoman in front of the window.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">'Now, now,' she said in an almost
sympathetic tone.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">'I know you have already had your
punishment at school, but this must be done.'</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">At least it would be over her knee and not
bent over the chair. Small comfort, but when you're in the shit, small comforts
count.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">'Get over my knee young man and let's get
this sorry business over with.'</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Compliant to the end I spread myself across
her lap and closed my eyes in anticipation of the stinging slaps of her
strop....I didn't have to wait long.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Aunty most carefully peeled my bottoms down
to my knees and then quite surprisingly, stroked my bum with a gentle, parental
touch.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">'My my......Headmistress certainly knows
how to cane you naughty boys doesn't she ?'</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">I gave no answer but kept my eyes shut and
just nodded slightly. Her hand moved to the small of my back and I knew it was
coming........SMACK !!!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">The strop struck home on my right bum cheek
and stung like a hundred bee stings. A full two seconds later my left cheek received
the same painful slap. I could contain my anguish no longer as the third stroke
again landed on the right one and I bawled my eyes out.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">As I lay on my stomach in bed a mere ten
minutes later, hungry, tired and still getting those strange inward sobs that
come at intervals, I reflected on the six strokes aunty gave me with the strop.
She is most certainly a kindly soul as I knew in my heart of hearts that I
deserved more. But then.............I had,</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">
Had a
bad day.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Garyntboy.</span></div>
garyntboyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10995447299024349858noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876760202478413238.post-58611858782659680352014-06-19T07:26:00.000-07:002014-06-19T07:26:11.551-07:00Is my secret out ??? A friend sent these over for me the other day, saying, 'saw these and thought of you.'<br />
<br />
<br />
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<br />
<br />
Now I wonder what I can use these slippers for ??????<br />
<br />
Suggestions on a postcard to........<br />
Garyntboy. Go on...You know you want to.<br />
<br />
<br />
Kind regards,<br />
Gary.garyntboyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10995447299024349858noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876760202478413238.post-44713940495385500492014-06-09T09:03:00.000-07:002014-06-09T09:03:46.161-07:00Two cane or not to cane I have to give Quality control their due, they do deliver very quickly. Having studied some reviews from the headmaster, I had decided that two canes were better than one and so ordered one junior kooboo and one senior kooboo. They arrived a mere two days later, very commendable I think. That was over a month ago now but this is my first opportunity to write about it on this blog, been a very busy boy....<br />
<br />
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<br />
The ottoman that you can see, has been put to very good use by my loving wife. The padded seat and height being just right for her to sit on and put me over her knees, so she decided. But it wasn't until much later that I spotted the positioning of the seat means that she gets a perfect view of my bottom in the wall mirror on the opposite wall.....Very cunning isn't she ??<br />
<br />
Anyway, to business......<br />
<br />
Having tried both canes out for a good month now and acquired a good consistency of accuracy, my wife has decided that the senior cane is the better one. The junior one is much more flexible and whippy and is therefore harder to control. I have to say that I agree with her, being the recipient. Although I don't dislike the junior, it has a much harsher burn than the senior and occasionally lands on my upper thighs......<br />
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<br />
Very OUCHY !!!!<br />
<br />
<br />
The senior cane on the other hand.....although it never is, if you get my drift, has a much deeper, more intense kind of pain, longer lasting and makes me intake a breath before slowly releasing it, having to fight the burn before counting and thanking my Miss. A signal as I am sure you all know, that I am ready for the next stroke.<br />
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<br />
<br />
So there you have it......A quick review on the virtues of having what I consider to be the top end of the punishment implement to hand......<br />
Although I could be wrong.....<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Kind regards,<br />
Garyntboy.<br />
garyntboyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10995447299024349858noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876760202478413238.post-80058590150986064682014-06-06T11:12:00.001-07:002014-06-06T11:12:10.315-07:00Band of Brothers - Main theme Soundtrack<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="344" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/7uTAIpU0sa0" width="459"></iframe>garyntboyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10995447299024349858noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876760202478413238.post-83662527895506893252014-04-14T00:51:00.002-07:002014-04-14T00:51:22.402-07:00I think I've broken it !! Well I thought that she was referring to my bottom as that last stroke really stung, as it bit into my right bum cheek. The lingering burn seemingly burying itself deeper and deeper into the flesh. But then, as the pause got longer and longer, and no stroke came, I dared to look back over my shoulder. There I saw my pride and joy, the fruits of several hours of labour, being gingerly bent to reveal a split down the middle of the cane.<br />
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Barely believing my eyes, I took it from her grasp and when tapping it against my hand, the tell-tale sound of rattling wood confirmed her statement to be true......She HAD broken it !!!!<br />
<br />
'Well wadda we do now ???'<br />
<br />
Only one thing for it, I shall be re-reading the headmasters' review of a selection of canes and then ordering one online very shortly.<br />
It had been a valiant effort but obviously my homemade cane was just not up to the job, my bum being so pert an' all.......Ha ha.<br />
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So the professionally made cane is the next obvious step.<br />
Meanwhile, our only option for the top of the tree implement of punishment is that accursed tawse......<br />
...Please Mr. postman......send a package quickly to me..<br />
<br />
<br />
Kind regards,<br />
Garyntboy.garyntboyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10995447299024349858noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876760202478413238.post-83667034608659970792014-02-21T02:32:00.000-08:002014-02-21T02:32:00.778-08:00MUFFINS !!!!! REALLY ??I'm sure somebody MUST have posted this before but it is a new one on me...<br />
And it did make me laugh....after I stopped choking.<br />
<br />
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<br />
Some American friends of ours sent these to us and I was into my second bite when I happened to look at the makers name.My German is non existent but isn't a meyer a mayor ????<br />
Now I know why some of you girls swallow......The taste was quite nice...not too salty.<br />
<br />
Kind regards,<br />
Garyntboy.garyntboyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10995447299024349858noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876760202478413238.post-9393583948522070942013-12-19T04:46:00.000-08:002013-12-19T04:46:21.136-08:00A Christmas meme (borrowed from Hermione)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.....<br />
1. Eggnogg or Hot chocolate ?<br />
Hot chocolate, (with some brandy in it)<br />
2. Does santa wrap presents or just put them under the tree ?<br />
Father Christmas wraps them AND puts some of them under the tree. The rest go into sacks at the end of the bed.<br />
3. Coloured or white lights on the tree or house ?<br />
Coloured lights on the tree, white lights on the house outside.<br />
Actually.....I rearranged a set of lights on someones outside tree so that it looked like a flashing penis and balls !!<br />
4. Do you hang mistletoe ?<br />
Yes, and it is always real. Well..you never know your luck.<br />
5. When do you put your decorations up ?<br />
About two weeks before Christmas...depends on how much the kids nag me and then ALWAYS within ten days after.<br />
6. What is your favourite holiday dish ?<br />
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.<br />
7. Favourite memory as a child ?<br />
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.<br />
8. When and how did you learn the truth about santa ?<br />
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.<br />
9.Do you open a gift on Christmas eve ?<br />
NO.....Definitely not...a very naughty thing to do...Hee Hee.<br />
10. How do you decorate your Christmas tree ?<br />
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.<br />
11. Snow ! Love it or dread it ?<br />
It would be nice on Christmas day but for the rest of the time...Dread...Unless we are skiing of course.<br />
12. Can you ice skate ?<br />
About as well as Bambi can<br />
13. Do you remember your favourite gift ?<br />
OH YES !! My wife bought me a WW2 flying jacket, fur lined and toasty warm...I still wear it.<br />
14. What's the most important thing about the holidays for you ?<br />
Family...Being together as a family.<br />
15. What's your favourite holiday dessert ?<br />
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.<br />
16. What tops your tree ?<br />
A fairy...And the kids ALWAYS fight over whos turn it is to put it up...Grrr.<br />
17. Which do you prefer, giving or receiving ?<br />
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.<br />
18. Candy canes...Yuk or Yum ?<br />
There's only one type of cane that I like and it ain't made of candy. Ho Ho Ho.<br />
19. Favourite Christmas show ?<br />
Used to be Morecombe and Wise but Mrs. Browns' Boys has overtaken them now in my book.<br />
20. What is you favourite Christmas song ?<br />
Chris De Burgh..A Spaceman came travelling.<br />
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Any comments are welcome....<br />
<br />
Kind regards,<br />
Garyntboy.<br />
<br />
Happy Christmas everyone...<br />
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garyntboyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10995447299024349858noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876760202478413238.post-22351648560633975502013-12-11T02:44:00.000-08:002013-12-19T03:29:16.554-08:00Three 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.<br />
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Six more hard thwacks and then she picked up the tawse saying,<br />
'I don't think you are in any position to be cheeky young man, that deserves the tawse.'<br />
She then stated to lay on some strokes, (I don't remember how many) but then paused, saying,<br />
'Aren't you going to count them then?'<br />
'I didn't know I had to,' I replied.<br />
'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!'<br />
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.<br />
'Oooo, promises, promises,' someone blurted out.<br />
Mistake No: 1 !<br />
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,<br />
'There, you blind bat!'<br />
The look she gave me over her glasses while still sat down said it all.<br />
Mistake No: 2 !<br />
But Gary being Gary, has to push it......So...<br />
Preparing dinner and I happened to say that the Stilton cheese I was grating smelled as bad as her feet.<br />
That one broke the camels back, so to speak.<br />
Mistake No: 3<br />
I was put over the end of our couch and four strokes of the cane applied before my pants came down.<br />
'Twelve strokes my man, and they are all going to be good ones, so you'd better keep count or else.'<br />
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I was a good boy for the rest of the evening !!!!!!<br />
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Kind regards,<br />
Garyntboy.garyntboyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10995447299024349858noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876760202478413238.post-58104097510561140172013-12-09T02:59:00.002-08:002013-12-09T02:59:32.844-08:00Monday morning blues cureA German guy approaches a lady of the night.<br />
'I vish to buy sex viz you.'<br />
'ok,' says the girl,'I charge £50 an hour.'<br />
'...ist good, but I must varn you, I am a little kinky.'<br />
'No problem, I can do kinky,'says the girl.<br />
So off they go to her flat, where the German produces four bedsprings and a duck caller.<br />
'I vant zat you tie ze springs to each of your hans unt knees.'<br />
The girl finds this most odd but complies, fastening the springs as he had said to her hands and knees.<br />
'Now you vill get on your hans unt knees.'<br />
She duly does this, balancing precariously on the springs.<br />
'You vill please to blow on ze kvacker as I make love to you.'<br />
She finds this odd, but figures it's harmless (and the guy is paying).<br />
The sex is fantastic, as she is bounced all around the room by the energetic German, all the time honking on the duck caller.<br />
Her climax is the most intense that she has ever experienced and it is several minutes before she can speak.<br />
'Wow, that was totally amazing, what do you call that position ?'<br />
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'Ah' says the German, Zat is ze.....................<br />
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'Four Sprung Duck Technique.'<br />
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Happy Monday,<br />
Kind regards,<br />
Gary.garyntboyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10995447299024349858noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876760202478413238.post-57996505765988089872013-12-06T01:24:00.000-08:002013-12-06T01:24:17.382-08:00Fifty Shades FilmSo....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.<br />
What do you all think ?<br />
Or is everybody too scared to mention the film, just as actors never mention Macbeth. Sorry. That scottish play.<br />
<br />
Kind regards,<br />
Gary.garyntboyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10995447299024349858noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876760202478413238.post-63057103663077114652013-11-24T11:45:00.003-08:002013-11-24T11:45:41.610-08:00The 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.<br />
'If you ring that infernal bell once more, I shall set the dogs on you !'<br />
Susan turned around with a start, to see Adam behind her beaming from ear to ear with a mischievous grin on his face.<br />
'Glad you could make it, we're round the back, come.' Adam held out his hand and led Susan to the rear garden.<br />
'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.<br />
'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 ?'<br />
His directness caught Susan by surprise and she could only blush and look down at her feet.<br />
'Come, I want to show you something inside, you may find it quite interesting.'<br />
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.<br />
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.<br />
'Do you know what this contraption is Susan ?'<br />
'It looks for all the world like an old fashion stocks, Adam !' She almost spat out his name with condemnation.<br />
'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,<br />
'You'll have to show me yourself, I'm not very good with machinery I'm afraid.'<br />
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.<br />
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'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.<br />
'Oow, it's pinching my wrists you bitch !' Adam whinged.<br />
'Good, it's nice and tight then, don't want you wriggling away now do we........Mr. Johnson.'<br />
Susan stood in front of him and slowly pulled a plimsoll from her handbag, watching his reaction as she did so.<br />
'You don't remember me do you, Mr. Johnson ! All those years ago when you kept me behind after hockey practice.'<br />
Susan roamed around behind him as she spoke and then without warning, yanked down his trousers.<br />
'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.<br />
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.<br />
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.<br />
Smack !!<br />
'Six is best eh ? Well I tend to think that we should add a nought to the end of that six, mister !'<br />
And with that, Susan rolled up the sleeve of her blouse and prepared herself for a very long evening of pain and punishment.<br />
His punishment...................<br />
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Kind regards,<br />
Garyntboy. <br />
garyntboyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10995447299024349858noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876760202478413238.post-29251766690323671632013-11-20T06:01:00.002-08:002013-11-20T06:01:45.469-08:00SIX 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.<br />
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.<br />
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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.<br />
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.<br />
'Too much for me I'm afraid, but the pie was lovely, did you make it yourself ?' Susan asked.<br />
'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 ?'<br />
'Yes, that's right, how did you know ?' Susan said, slightly taken aback by her knowledge.<br />
'Small village this, you met 'im yet then ?'<br />
'Only the once, when he shooed me off his property.'<br />
' Ees a rum un, so I 'ear, has these wild parties an' all.' <br />
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.<br />
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.<br />
'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.<br />
'Nice of you to drop by,' her eyes meeting his as he smiled and nodded to her.<br />
'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.<br />
'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.<br />
'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.<br />
' 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.<br />
'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.'<br />
The last two words making the hair on the back of Susans' neck stand on end and her inner muscles clench slightly.<br />
'I haven't been called that since school,' Susan retorted, her heart now beating faster.<br />
'Then perhaps you should be schooled a little more Susan,' his eyes widening as he spoke.<br />
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.<br />
'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.<br />
'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.<br />
'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.<br />
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<br />garyntboyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10995447299024349858noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876760202478413238.post-39501935212882819992013-11-12T01:53:00.000-08:002013-11-12T01:53:56.896-08:00Masculine MomentsFound this so funny, especially #3<br />
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<a href="http://www.safeshare.tv/w/GnFzeOCVZF">Masculine Moments</a>garyntboyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10995447299024349858noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876760202478413238.post-68392346884729677592013-11-07T03:35:00.000-08:002013-11-07T08:34:17.906-08:00The 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!).<br />
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.<br />
There....I said it hun.....Put it in writing for all to see.<br />
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.<br />
Meantime, perhaps I should propose a double or nothing wager.......Anyone for tennis ????<br />
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Please feel free to comment, don't be shy, be naughty !<br />
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Kind regards,<br />
Garyntboy.<br />
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The story continues...................................................<br />
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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.<br />
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.<br />
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garyntboyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10995447299024349858noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876760202478413238.post-43856222529584055352013-10-22T04:18:00.001-07:002013-10-22T04:18:50.097-07:00MEN WHO LACK FEMALE SUPERVISIONJust had these sent to me and just HAD to share........<br />
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SO FUNNY, AND SO TRUE........<br />
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Now THAT'S relaxing<br />
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Oooh Brother !!!!<br />
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Just love to do this one day<br />
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I hope SOME of them were full !<br />
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My favourite by far.....<br />
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Well you can't call him lazy eh ?<br />
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Why didn't I think of that !!!<br />
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Hope they made you smile.......<br />
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I did !<br />
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Kind regards,<br />
Gary.garyntboyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10995447299024349858noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876760202478413238.post-72806528000188852532013-10-04T03:22:00.000-07:002013-10-04T03:22:59.786-07:00BEWARE THE PINK SPATULAIf only I could regulate that brain to mouth valve, I'm sure that I would not get into so much trouble. Just a <u>little</u> 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....<br />
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.......<br />
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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.<br />
Well, wouldn't want to get lumpy sauce all over my bottom would I ?<br />
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Kind regards,<br />
Garyntboy.garyntboyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10995447299024349858noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876760202478413238.post-7693940677601572052013-10-02T08:36:00.001-07:002013-10-02T08:36:27.174-07:00You 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.<br />
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.<br />
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.<br />
'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.<br />
Damn that thing, I can't think what possessed me to buy such a stingy implement. Oh, wait a minute.....now I remember !!!<br />
See...my memory is getting better all the time.<br />
<br />
Kind regards,<br />
Garyntboy.<br />
garyntboyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10995447299024349858noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876760202478413238.post-57162032024593170172013-09-26T06:12:00.000-07:002013-09-26T09:39:06.813-07:00GARY SPANKS HIS NAUGHTY GIRL. 'Darling, the light bulb is stuck.'<br />
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.<br />
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).<br />
'Did you just leave that bulb hanging like that?' I said, only slightly portraying my annoyance.<br />
'I told you about it yesterday,' she replied, but not really answering my question.<br />
So I repeated myself and got the answer that I had suspected all along.<br />
'I gave it a twist and it just came away in my hand,' her blue eyes flashing at me with adolescent innocence.<br />
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.<br />
'Why didn't you tell me that it was broken off, it was hanging by a thread,' I admonished.<br />
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.<br />
'Right young lady, over my knee!' I said as I seated myself at a kitchen chair.<br />
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.<br />
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.<br />
'You have behaved most recklessly leaving that light bulb in such a state, and you deserve a good spanking for it,' I stated.<br />
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).<br />
'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.<br />
Having thoroughly spanked the whole area of her bottom, now a nice deep shade of red, I rested my hand on her lower back.<br />
'Shall I continue, or will you offer me an apology for your reckless behaviour?' I said, quite surprised at her obedient posture.<br />
'I'm sorry sir,' she said in a higher toned voice than normal.<br />
'Then you may get up,' I answered, not bothering to pull up her relaxey pants.<br />
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..........<br />
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As a footnote....<br />
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.<br />
Don't tell the wife !!!!<br />
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Kind regards,<br />
Gary. garyntboyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10995447299024349858noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876760202478413238.post-3974497773613621632013-09-12T02:42:00.001-07:002013-09-12T02:42:57.142-07:00Maintenance 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.<br />
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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,<br />
'So you don't want a spanking tonight eh?'<br />
At which, I leapt out of bed and stood before her naked, my eyes lowered and my hands in front of me.<br />
'Choose your implement,' she said, with no hint of malice or anger in her voice.<br />
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.<br />
'Now bend over the end of the bed!' her voice only slightly harder in tone.<br />
'But don't I get a warm up first?' I whimpered rather pathetically.<br />
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.<br />
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...!!<br />
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.<br />
But just as suddenly as it started, she then stopped, threw the paddle onto the bed and said,<br />
'There....you've had your spanking!'<br />
I got back into bed and sulked.<br />
I felt slightly shocked, slightly humiliated, but most of all, very very humbled.<br />
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.<br />
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.<br />
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Kindest of regards,<br />
Gary. garyntboyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10995447299024349858noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876760202478413238.post-32679776353430985622013-09-02T01:26:00.002-07:002013-09-02T01:26:57.337-07:00Aquatic 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................<br />
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ENJOY this rare delight..............<br />
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I call it a Quadapussy !! <br />
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Kind regards,<br />
Gary(naughty)boy.....<br />
Who can blame me ?garyntboyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10995447299024349858noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876760202478413238.post-46109362291912262892013-08-15T08:32:00.000-07:002013-08-15T08:32:35.932-07:00A POEM FOR ALL YOU LADIES<div id="yui_3_7_2_1_1376579765944_4238" style="background-color: white; color: #454545; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;">
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<span id="yui_3_7_2_1_1376579765944_4233" style="color: #3300cc; font-size: 20pt;">in the true and literal sense of the word!</span><span style="color: #3300cc;"></span></div>
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<b><u><span style="color: red; font-size: 18pt;">A Woman's Poem</span></u></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: navy; font-size: 18pt;">He didn't like the casserole </span></b><span style="color: #454545; font-size: 13.5pt;"><br /></span><b id="yui_3_7_2_1_1376579765944_3411"><span id="yui_3_7_2_1_1376579765944_3410" style="color: navy; font-size: 18pt;">And he didn't like my cake, </span></b><span style="color: #454545; font-size: 13.5pt;"><br /></span><b><span style="color: navy; font-size: 18pt;">He said my biscuits were too hard </span></b><span style="color: #454545; font-size: 13.5pt;"><br /></span><b id="yui_3_7_2_1_1376579765944_3409"><span id="yui_3_7_2_1_1376579765944_3408" style="color: navy; font-size: 18pt;">Not like his mother used to make.</span></b><b><span style="color: #454545; font-size: 10pt;"> </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: navy; font-size: 18pt;">I didn't</span></b><b><span style="color: #454545; font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span></b><b><span style="color: navy; font-size: 18pt;">perk the</span></b><b><span style="color: navy; font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span></b><b><span style="color: navy; font-size: 18pt;">coffee right</span></b><b><span style="color: #454545; font-size: 10pt;"> </span></b><span style="color: #454545; font-size: 13.5pt;"><br /></span><b><span style="color: navy; font-size: 18pt;">He didn't like the stew, </span></b><span style="color: #454545; font-size: 13.5pt;"><br /></span><b><span style="color: navy; font-size: 18pt;">I didn't mend his socks </span></b><span style="color: #454545; font-size: 13.5pt;"><br /></span><b><span style="color: navy; font-size: 18pt;">The way his mother used to do..</span></b><b><span style="color: #454545; font-size: 10pt;"> </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: navy; font-size: 18pt;">I pondered</span></b><b><span style="color: #454545; font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span></b><b><span style="color: navy; font-size: 18pt;">for an answer </span></b><span style="color: #454545; font-size: 13.5pt;"><br /></span><b><span style="color: navy; font-size: 18pt;">I was looking for a clue. </span></b><span style="color: #454545; font-size: 13.5pt;"><br /></span><b><span style="color: navy; font-size: 18pt;">Then I turned around and </span></b><span style="color: #454545; font-size: 13.5pt;"><br /></span><b><span style="color: navy; font-size: 18pt;">Smacked him one<br /><br />Like his mother used to do.</span></b><span style="color: #454545; font-size: 10pt;"> </span></div>
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<b id="yui_3_7_2_1_1376579765944_4204"><u id="yui_3_7_2_1_1376579765944_4203"><span id="yui_3_7_2_1_1376579765944_4202" style="color: purple; font-size: 36pt;">I love a good poem, don't you ?!?!</span></u></b></div>
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garyntboyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10995447299024349858noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876760202478413238.post-76370091897719577622013-08-14T13:59:00.002-07:002013-08-14T13:59:46.895-07:00HAPPY BIRTHDAY ME.garyntboyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10995447299024349858noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876760202478413238.post-13749170539506249322013-08-13T08:27:00.000-07:002013-08-13T08:27:33.229-07:00School 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.<br />
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.<br />
'I'll waste non of my time on you today boy,' headmaster said whilst picking up his cane.<br />
'Bend over the desk Gary,' his intention quite clear now.<br />
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.<br />
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.<br />
'Gary! What do you think you are doing boy?' 'Get yourself round here now.'<br />
'I got lost sir.' But he didn't believe me.<br />
Bent over his desk but this time with no protective covering over my bum, I thought, 'This is gonna hurt.'<br />
Guess what ?<br />
I was right !<br />
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.<br />
Oouch !!<br />
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.<br />
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.....<br />
'Gary!'<br />
'My study!'<br />
'Two o'clock!'<br />
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.<br />
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.<br />
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.<br />
Not so. He called me in second.<br />
Twelve strokes applied to my bare arse, and none too lightly either, and I went out dancing the rub your bum dance.<br />
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.....<br />
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.<br />
Well I'm no snitch.<br />
And anyway,<br />
Fluffy and Pixie are friends of mine.......<br />
Ooops....Did I let that slip ? <br />
Sorry.<br />
English spelling and punctuation next, and into my comfort zone...or so I thought.<br />
Zero correct out of six meant 36 spanks from two teachers and then the dunces cap to add to my humiliation.<br />
What is it that Homer says ?<br />
DOH!<br />
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.<br />
Last lesson was our drama play, and having embarrassed ourselves with that, I was free to make mischief once more.<br />
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.<br />
'Not yet Gary, Why ? Would you like to try it?'<br />
Inner devil leapt to my shoulder at the challenge and I heard a voice say,<br />
'Always willing to try something new sir.'<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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).<br />
<br />
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.<br />
And also to the teachers for their preparation in so many different and informative lessons, I say a big thank you.<br />
Without these people, we would have no Thrashwells. Their dedication to educate is beyond doubt, but next time,<br />
<br />
you can open your own damn door Mr. Craig.<br />
(wink).<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Kind regards,<br />
Garyntboy. <br />
<br />
garyntboyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10995447299024349858noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876760202478413238.post-81277459382511811202013-07-22T07:57:00.000-07:002013-07-22T07:57:05.622-07:00Making 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.<br />
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.<br />
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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.<br />
Now for the handle.<br />
Knowing a trick or two about removing and refitting a golf grip, I thought this would be the easy part.......<br />
WRONG..<br />
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.<br />
Problems were had and then solved, but I think I did a pretty good job, even if I do say so myself.<br />
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Miss seems to be very pleased with it.<br />
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Kind regards,<br />
Gary.garyntboyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10995447299024349858noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876760202478413238.post-14099132264007931582013-07-11T06:40:00.001-07:002013-07-11T06:40:49.928-07:00The HeadmasterGood 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.<br />
I, as I'm sure all that know and respect you sir, wish you good health.<br />
With the utmost sincerity sir,<br />
Get well soon Mr.Geoff.<br />
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Kind regards,<br />
Gary.garyntboyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10995447299024349858noreply@blogger.com1