Spanking Blog: Adult Erotic Spanking At Its Best

I like to tease Bethie about the little accidents she has when we are playing that happen because she’s struggling. She’s been known, for example, to catch a leather strap across her knuckles when she puts her hands back at lightning speed at just the wrong moment, and I like to remind her that “It’s the struggling, dear, that always gets you in more trouble.” Usually followed by “Do I need to tie you up for your own safety?”

Relatedly, I’ve been in a Jimmy Buffet frame of mind lately, because we accidentally came into possession of most of a bottle of really expensive tequila last week. We’re not real into tequila, so I’ve been making real strong, real simple old-fashioned margaritas — just shaking together some ice, some tequila, some lime juice, and some triple sec. Very smooth and tasty.

All of which is to explain why the line “blew out my flip-flops” was on my mind when Bethie posted this story of how she blew out her slippers while getting paddled the other day:

I remember shoving my face down into the sofa cushions and kicking my feet wildly as the spanking really got going. I managed to kick off both house shoes but I had no idea as my bottom was my only concern. My poor, burning bottom!

Once Dan let me up, I reached back and grabbed my butt with both hands and began hopping around the living room. That’s all I could do, hold my hot bottom and hop up and down. Dan enjoyed the show anyway!

After I stopped hopping, I noticed my shoes and went to pick them up. That’s when I noticed something was wrong with one of them. It was completely blown out. The sole had ripped and the insides had come out. I

It really was most excellent hopping. But you should have seen her outrage when she discovered what she’d done to her favorite house slippers. All my fault, of course.

Mind you, Bethie is the Emelda Marcos of house slippers — I don’t know how many pairs she has, but all the ones with animal faces are lined up under the edge of our bed. When it’s half dark in there, it looks like something out of a bad Disney movie — a whole row of furtive beady plastic eyes watching from the safety of the dark niche under the bed, moose and ducks and rabbits and penguins and I dunno what-all. So the loss of the bunny slippers is … sustainable.