Spanking Blog: Adult Erotic Spanking At Its Best

As Bethie has noted on her blog, it’s been a while since we had the time and energy and privacy to see she got a proper spanking. When she goes too long without a spanking, she gets…well, I call it “fractious.” Not deliberately bratty, not hard to get along with, just fractious. She’s more inclined to contradict me for no good reason, order me around in tiny ways (like saying “Stop that!” instead of “Please stop”, or “Get me that thing” instead of “Please hand me that”), whimper without cause, or fret and fuss. Don’t let me overstate: she’s still sweet and easy to get along with by any objective measure. Just not her usual serene sweetest self.

Of course, a good spanking is the sovereign cure for this fractious condition. As I like to say: “It keeps you sweet.” Bethie always rejoins: “But I am sweet already.” To which the inevitable response is: “Yes, dear, but you can always be sweeter….”

Anyway, last night it was finally a good time to take care of fractiousness. Bethie had a few beers, we watched some standup comedy on TV, then I put in the latest caning video from Mood Pictures. (You’ll see a review tomorrow if all goes well.) By the time that was over, it was definitely time for her de-fractious-inating spanking.

The spanking itself went rather less well than usual. Bethie’s got quite a backlog of earned spankings built up (starting with her Valentine’s Day fun-flogging tonight) so I wanted to soften her up a bit and leave her tender. (Call it lazy top syndrome if you will.) Thus, after less hand-spanking-warmup than usual, I started in with the Cracker Barrel paddle she loves so much.

Only this time, perhaps not so much.

The fractiousness was on full display after the first few gentle swats (which I was doing lightly to warm her up.) “Not the paddle! Use your hand!” Note the peremptory phrasing, and believe me when I say the tone was equally peremptory.

Needless to say, the paddling quickly grew more vigorous. This was longer and harder than I had used that paddle before, and Bethie was not a happy camper. The complaints continued (although they grew more polite) and she was quickly snuffling and whuffling and half-crying and demanding tissues to blow her nose. Even though I slacked off with the paddle, alternated it with some hand spanking, and gave her a few kisses and lots of rubbing between spanks, she simply wasn’t enjoying the process the way she usually does. (However, a certain unmistakable physiological reaction confirmed that she was, in one sense, enjoying herself.)

I persevered in the face of adversity, and eventually grew pleased at the way sustained application of the Cracker Barrel paddle brought up a general puffy redness on Bethie’s bottom in the experienced spanking places where she usually cannot be marked by any reasonable spanking implement short of a fast-moving cane. She, however, was not as pleased, and began begging for me to use something leather. So I eventually switched to the tenderizing strap.

For some reason knowable only to those possessing feminine logic circuits, this did not improve Bethie’s mood. She continued snuffling and whuffling and generally managing to not enjoy herself — which is quite out of character. I suppose if I were a more committed domly type, that would have been the time to start whaling away, blistering her bottom until she broke down in full-scale blubbering and all grumpy resistance was gone. And perhaps that’s what I’ll do next time. But this time, I was merciful, and after perhaps a dozen good blows with the strap, we moved on to more mutually pleasant pursuits.

So why did I title this post “A Blistering Spanking”? Not because of the state of Bethie’s bottom; this morning it’s completely unmarked, although she complains of tender spots (yay!) where the rolled end of the tenderizing strap landed. Unfortunately for me, I woke up this morning with a small white puffy blister where my right index finger wraps around the edge of the handle of the Cracker Barrel paddle. Must be a rough spot on that sanded birch plywood edge somewhere.

Poor me.

And how about that fractiousness? Bethie woke grumpy this morning, having not slept too well, and managed three episodes of minor fractiousness during the first seven minutes she was awake. I will say, however, that as soon as I pointed this out, she became the very paragon of sweetness, and hasn’t had a fractious moment since. I’m thinking she doesn’t want a repeat session with the Cracker Barrel paddle tonight….