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  1. Emma was busy in the kitchen mixing a fresh strawberry cake when Mark approached her from behind. He placed both hands on her hips and kissed her neck softly before swatting her ass firmly, just enough to sting. “You’re going to mess me up!” She said playfully, glancing up over her shoulder at him. Mark slapped her ass again, this time harder, and pulled her hips back to meet his. “Whose girl are you?” he growled in her ear. “Yours!” She said dramatically and halfway sarcastic, turning and pushing him away with one hand, still holding the spoon in the other. Both grinning, he took her other wrist and pulled her into him and they shared a long kiss. “It looks delicious,” Mark said, reaching across the counter to snag a strawberry from the bowl beside the batter. “Ah! No... those are for tomorrow!” she smiled, swatting his hand away and pushing the bowl just out of his reach on the marble countertop. Mark and Emma were hosting a housewarming party at their new home tomorrow. Mark had been outside most of the day making sure the pool was ready and cleaning up the yard. They had discussed what all needed to get done this morning, and Emma agreed she’d clean the house and make sure there were plenty of clean towels for swimming. It was now past 7pm and she’d only managed to finish the downstairs bathroom and a half a bottle of Pinot Noir. “Take it easy on the wine tonight, we both know you aren’t a pleasant person to be around with a hangover,” Mark said, picking up the bottle, noticing it was half empty. “Of course, sweetheart. I’m completely fine. Claire is on her way over now to help me finish up a few things for tomorrow,” she said, placing her cake pans into the oven. “As long as you finish your end of things. It’s nice of Claire to come over and help out, but I still expect you in bed with me at 11pm, as usual.” Mark said leaning against the counter admiring his wife’s ampler curves from behind. Emma turned around and slightly rolled her eyes at the seriousness of his tone as she poured herself another glass of wine. “I’m not playing with you, Emma. This party was your idea, and I’ve done all the things you asked me to do today. Don’t get drunk with Claire tonight” he told her firmly. Emma’s phone dinged with a text message, Claire was on her way inside. “Yes Sir, I promise!” she said emphatically, pecking his lips with a kiss in hopes to end the conversation. Mark could tell by his wife’s excitement and demeanor that she was already feeling the wine and that worried him. He took her by the shoulders and stared straight into her big, brown eyes. “If you’re not in bed by 11pm, you’re getting a spanking. If you plan on swimming tomorrow, I suggest you do as you’re told, little girl ” His voice was strict, but almost pleading with her. This got Emma’s attention, her eyes darted back and forth as though she’d been caught in a lie. She thought for a moment. She was excited their pool was finally ready and was looking forward to swimming with everyone tomorrow, but that wouldn’t be an option if her bottom was marked. Then the doorbell rang and the thought was gone like the wind. “I said I won’t!” She emphasized, breaking free from his grasp and heading towards the front door. Mark knew he should deal with her now. Emma had been stressed about the party all week, and he had been patient with her planning and suggestions that really came off more like orders. It was clear they needed a reset to remind them of their roles, but Mark didn’t have much of a choice now. He could only hope his wife had enough sense to heed his warning. “I’ll be in my office finishing some work if you need me” Mark shouted down the hall before heading upstairs. Emma hurried to the front door to meet Claire. They had been best friends since college and were as close as sisters. Emma helped her carry the bags she’d brought over into the kitchen. They were casually chatting about who all would be coming over tomorrow when Claire pulled out a bottle of Grey Goose vodka. “Look what I got!” She said excitedly, smiling and holding the bottle by her face . “Let's have a little bit now, do you have any cranberry juice?” Claire was already looking in the refrigerator. “I’m already drinking wine, and seriously can’t over do it tonight, but yeah, it should be on the second shelf.” The two of them laughed and joked while finishing up the strawberry cake and throwing a load of towels in the washer, before moving outside by the pool to sip on their drinks. By the time it was 10:30pm Emma’s bottle of wine was empty and she found herself dancing giddily around the pool laughing about old stories with Claire. Mark was upstairs and had just gotten out of the shower when he noticed that Emma was late to bed. I better go check on how things are going down there, he thought to himself. He grabbed a glass of water in the kitchen and noticed his wife hunched over laughing by the light of the pool through the bay window. Claire appeared to be narrating something especially funny with her hands. Mark shook his head, he wasn’t surprised. “Looks like you two are are having a good time” Mark said smiling, as he walked out to the pool. Emma stood up straight, surprised to see him. She looked around for her phone to check the time but she had left it inside. Claire and Mark exchanged pleasantries while Emma went to check the time, she wasn’t about to ask Mark. Emma saw the time on the stove before she grabbed her phone. It was 11:11pm. “Dmanit!” She said out loud. I’m in so much trouble she thought to herself before laughing at the time and making a wish that Mark wouldn’t spank her and he’d let this whole thing slide. Emma was heading back outside when Mark met her at the door. “You’re late” he said sternly with a straight face. “I know! I’m sorry! She’s about to leave” Emma said emphatically with her hand on his chest. Mark shook his head and told her she would be starting the morning with a hard spanking, and if there was an ounce of attitude tomorrow she’d be spanked again before bedtime. Emma winced as he spoke. She knew she’d been a bad girl and disobeyed him, but she didn’t want a spanking. “I really am sorry! Please,” hoping he’d give her a break. “You heard what I said and I mean it, don’t be up all night” Mark said firmly before heading upstairs to bed. Out of wine and knowing she’d be getting a spanking in the morning was sobering for Emma. She went back outside and told Claire she needed to get some sleep and that she should sleep in the guest bedroom. The Next Morning Mark woke to the sound of Emma’s alarm that she was sleeping through. He got up and turned it off, then headed downstairs to make coffee. He was even more upset and disappointed by her behavior than he was the night before as he cleaned up the kitchen and noticed all the things Emma had neglected. He was determined to get them back on the same page well before people started showing up, and that meant a long, hard spanking. He took a glass of water and 2 Advil upstairs and sat them on Claire’s nightstand and gently woke her. She was almost always grumpy when first waking up to begin with, but she was especially groggy and the wine had left her with a headache. “What?” Emma said half asleep and annoyed. Then she remembered last night, she had a lot to do and was in trouble with Mark. She sat up and checked time and then sank back in the bed covering her face. Mark had already moved to the foot of the bed and was ready to get started. “Come on, we have a long day ahead of us, but first we’re gonna deal with last night” Mark said, jostling her leg underneath the covers. Emma dreaded what was about to happen and pleaded with her husband not to spank her. She tried to bargain and made every excuse she could think of while knocking back the Advil and sipping water. After a few minutes of reasoning, Mark had had enough and got firm with her. “You’ve got about 5 seconds to get yourself over my knee or I’m going to get the big paddle” his voice was serious and slightly aggravated. Emma’s eyes widened and her stomach dropped to her feet by such a bold statement. Knowing full well he wasn’t kidding around, she got up and laid across Mark’s lap. He spanked her firmly with his hand over the light pink, cotton pajama pants she was wearing, quickly building with intensity and speed. Emma tried to remain still, but even a hand spanking seemed to hurt worse than usual. “Be still. We’re just getting started, young lady” Mark said sternly, emphasizing his point with a few hard swats on her sit spots and upper thighs. He stood her up in front of him. Emma looked angry, and she was. Mark scolded her about last night's disobedience while pulling her pajama pants and panties straight down to her ankles. Emma rolled her eyes and lightly stomped her foot with defiance. This was unacceptable to Mark, he was nice to even warm her bottom. Refusing to waste anymore time with her attitude, he stood up and firmly took hold of her upper arm and spanked her rapidly with full force on her already pink cheeks. Emma shrieked and danced out of the pjs and panties that were already at her ankles. “I’m sorry!” She shouted between small cries. “Do I really need to spank you like a naughty little girl for you to do as you’re told, Emma? because I will!” This embrassessed Emma, she hated when he compared her to a little girl in this context. “No, sir!” she cried. Mark let go of her arm and demanded she look at him while he was speaking. Her face was flushed and she took a deep breath to compose herself as she struggled to maintain eye contact. She knew she could easily make things worse for herself if she didn’t stop the tough girl act and accept her punishment. “You left the towels in the washing machine last night..” He began. “Shit!” She exclaimed covering her face and dropping her head, regret and shame flooded her brain. She had so much to do before their friends and family arrived and began to panic. “Can I please go restart them now?” “I already took care of it. What you can do, is go downstairs and get the big wooden spoon you like so much.” Emma sighed with relief and thanked him for picking up her slack, but Mark’s face was unforgiving and he only prompted her to do as she was told. He swatted her bottom as she left the bedroom. While Emma was retrieving the spoon, Mark went into the closet to get his thick leather belt. He placed it on the bed before walking out to the staircase and calling down to Emma that she was only adding extra swats for every second she wasn’t back with the spoon. Emma was indeed stalling, and only wanted a cup of coffee and to get to work on the things she’d neglected the night before. She quickly hurried back to their bedroom with the spoon when she heard his warning. “Sorry!” She said breathing heavily from skipping stairs and general stress from what was coming. She handed Mark the spoon and noticed the belt laying on the bed. “Nooo!” She pleaded taking several steps back and covering her bottom. Mark was unphased. Emma was often dramatic during her punishments, and there were no doubts she deserved every bit of what he was about to dish out. He lunged forward and forcefully took his wife back over his knee and began spanking her hard with the wooden spoon. “I warned you, and you disobeyed me!” His tone was harsh as he scolded her and the force behind the spoon was even harsher. Emma squirmed over his lap and cried out. The fire was quickly building in her bottom, and she couldn’t help but reach back back and attempt to cover it. Mark took hold of her wrist and pinned it beneath her to keep it out of the way while he rained down on her bright red bottom, alternating cheeks. Emma’s eyes welled with tears as she struggled and kicked her legs trying to find relief from the spoon that only moved to more tender spots the harder she fought. “I’m sorry, please” she sobbed, tears spilling down her cheeks. Emma started every punishment with “I’m sorry,” but Mark could tell she was learning a lesson when she stopped fighting him so hard and the real tears began to fall. Every inch of Emma’s bottom was a deep shade of red and he was convinced she was learning. After several minutes, he slowed his pace and stopped. He placed the spoon down on the bed beside him and patted her bottom before standing her up. Emma stood in front of him wiping her eyes while Mark patiently stayed seated and waited for her to compose herself. She knew she’d get a spanking this morning, but it was so much harder than she imagined. She clenched her cheeks and winced at Mark. “I won’t do it again” she whispered, before crawling up on the bed and reaching for a pillow to place under her hips without having to be told. Mark was always proud of her when she accepted her discipline with submission, even though it was a rare occurrence and she usually needed a sore bottom to get to that point. Emma turned her face away from him and tucked her hands in under her chest. Still sniffling, she braced herself for the rest of her punishment. Mark picked up the leather belt and folded it in two as he explained what kind of behavior he expected from her the rest of the day. She laid there listening carefully, nodding in agreement. “I want your bottom out and up” he said sternly, signaling he was about to begin. Emma lifted her hips high and closed her eyes tightly. She focused on keeping position despite hearing the sound of the belt making its way to her already sore and tender bottom. “Owwww! Please!” She cried, instinctively pulling her knees to her chest and hugging the pillow. “Almost there, back in position” Mark said calmly, nodding his head toward the bed. The belt landed sharply on the same spot twice more and Emma sprang up on her knees still hugging the pillow. She was crying again and her bottom was throbbing. “It hurts so bad! I’ll be good!” she begged. Mark knew she was sorry and that it hurt, but he’d promised her this kind of spanking if she didn’t obey him last night, and they were both suffering for it today. Ignoring her pleas and tears, he knelt up on the bed beside her and pushed her chest back down into the bed. “Back in position!” Emma knew she could only comply at this point. She let all but her hips sink into the mattress and arched her bottom back out. Mark swung the belt vigorously a dozen more times as Emma’s defiance and disobedience turned to acceptance and surrender while she cried. Satisfied she had learned a lesson, Mark tossed the belt to the foot of the bed. Still kneeling beside her, he loving reassured her that all was forgiven and that he’d be there to help her with anything she neglected during last night’s mishap. Then he laid down beside her and pulled her into his arms where they shared several quiet minutes together with her head on his chest. “You can swim, but you’ll need some shorts,” he finally said, kissing her forehead. They both laughed a little and Emma thanked him for being the man she always dreamt about, even if that meant pain and tears sometimes. TBC
  2. For the first time in a very long time, I'm in a position to start thinking about the possibility of a domestic discipline relationship. But I have to wonder whether it's realistic to look for that with a woman of an age similar to mine (around 60). I've seen a lot of posts from men that age (and older) who are still actively interested in spanking and discipline (as both ee's and er's), but few from women. That makes me wonder whether women also maintain the interest. Although I certainly hope that's the case, I could easily understand if most women either lose interest, or no longer feel physically capable as they age, especially if they've had significant experience. Does one reach a point where one decides they've just been spanked enough or their body/bottom can't take it any more? Or feel like externally enforced discipline is no longer necessary? I'd love to hear from others that have knowledge of M/F DD relationships--either newly formed or long-standing--among the older set. Does it happen? Does it work? How, if at all, would you say it's different from DD with younger people? Thanks for anything you can share.
  3. Irene was driving to Ashland, Kentucky. She could not get past her desire to get to the mall before the end of the blue light special. Even to the point of going past the boundaries we agreed upon. She had wished assistance in living within the rules boundaries my God, the laws of man, and her true desire, lust, lust, yearn and longing to submit to her Husband. Flying down 52 East at 87 MPH in a 55 MPH, she was ticked right at the Ashland Bridge by the State Highway Patrol. Did she return immediately, admit it, and seek for forgiveness? No she continued and found there was nothing there on sale that interested her. She got home discussed and tossed purse. It bounced on the back of the sofa and dropped the contents in the sofa seat. Does she walk over and pick up the contents and put it in her purse? No, she headed to the shower. I saw the ticket, which if she had just put it in her purse and took care of it, I would never have known. I picked it up the ticket, 87 MPH in a 55 MPH, that starts at $55 + $2 for every mile over=$119 + $80=$198 Total. I walked to the bathroom door gently and pinned it to the inside of the door. And I sat back down in the living room. She came back from her shower wearing white cotton panties, bra, garter belt, hose, a nice white blouse, black skirt, and black dress flats, holding the ticket. "Dad, there are just some things you can't control," she looked at her shoes, examining her feet as though we were the most interesting thing in the world. "You can control your driving, girl," I shook my head, "that's not an excuse." Irene didn't have an excuse, all she had was the truth and that was not something I wanted to know about. I wouldn't be too happy to hear that she had gotten a speeding ticket because she was trying to make it to the mall before the sale closed. There was a hot sale that she had to make! But did I want to know that? No, all I understood was that I was forking out money for a speeding ticket. "I just want you to be safe, Irene," I sighed, "I don't know what I'd do without you." Irene smiled, walking over to me. "Don't worry," she smiled kneeling at my feet, "I promise, I'll be good, I won't speed anymore." I loved her; I really did, but sometimes loves wasn't enough. "Irene," I said wearily, "I can't just let this go." She frowned, opening her mouth to say something but finding that she knew better than to do so at a crucial moment such as this. "Irene, something has to be done." That was not a something she wanted to think about any time soon. I kissed her hard on the mouth, "Go to the bedroom and wait for me." Suddenly there was a knot in Irene's stomach; she knew what those words meant. They were the words that caused her to squirm. They were the words that made her stomach jolt with fear and excitement, anger and acknowledgment. The worst part of it all knew that she deserved what was coming. "Yes, sir," she replied softly, pulling herself off the floor and gracefully making her way to the bedroom. Before she disappeared from sight she looked back, only to find that I wasn't there anymore. "Damn," she swore, knowing that meant I was serious about all of this. Irene sat on the edge of the bed, her heart pounding a mile a minute. This was the part that she hated the most, the anticipation. There were times when I would leave her in there for up to an hour at a time, letting her try and peg when I'd come and deliver her punishment for whatever wrongdoing she'd committed. Those were the times when she swore she hated me, even though we'd been together for 7 years. Irene was only left to think about what she'd done for ten minutes and thirty eight seconds. Irene had never figured out why she was supposed to sit and think. She always counted time instead, trying to come up with some prepared speech that would make me forget what she'd done. "Girl, you look at ease," I gave her a half smile, thinking to myself, not for long. Though this was a chastisement spanking, I loved seeing her face flare red with embarrassment. There is nothing sexier than a woman with a smile, red cheeks from blushing or brushing, chuckles. I never knew what she did up here in the time I left her; I thought it was fair to give her time to digest what she was going to receive because of something childish she'd done. The truth was, when I found out she got another speeding ticket, my heart nearly stopped. Irene was a dare devil, an adventurer, I was afraid that one day I might lose her. Just thinking about her pushing near ninety down the highway to get wherever she was going for made my blood boil. She would be the death of me. "Come here!" I demanded, standing a good ten feet away. Irene got up and crossed the room in her typical graceful fashion, with her braided pony-tail bouncing on her back. "Girl, do you have any idea at all on how worried you continuously make me?" She had the good sense to look down. "Girl, you're going to get yourself killed." Maybe I was being a little over the top, but I loved her, that was why I'd married her. "I'm going to go into that bathroom and get your hairbrush, when I get back I want you lying face down on that bed with a pillow under your abdomen. Am I making myself clear?" She understood, even though she said nothing. I strode away and she raced towards the bed, not wanting me to come out to see her still waiting around. The first time she'd ever not done what I told her to, I didn't let up spanking her for what seemed like forever - and that was with my ruler and then the cane, something she wasn't quite fond of feeling again. So when I emerged from the bathroom, weighing her hairbrush in my hand and slapping it lightly against my palm, she was glad her face was buried in the blanket, her bottom was up as high as she could get it, and she'd taken off her skirt and panties already. "How many, sir?" Irene asked meekly, wanting to wrap her head around how long she'd have to lie in this position while I painted her plump backside a lovely shade of red. "I honestly don't know, Irene," I rubbed my hand over her voluptuous bottom, feeling body warmth already beneath my fingers, "how many do you think is worth scaring your husband to death?" That was a rhetorical question; I didn't expect her to answer. "I think I'm going to keep on spanking you until I'm satisfied that you've learned your lesson." That didn't bode well with Irene's bottom, as it immediately puckered at the thought. Suddenly she heard the crack of the hairbrush and felt the sting immediately, Irene didn't cry out. I often lectured as I spanked her, telling her what she should have done instead of what she did, but this time I didn't talk. There was righteous anger behind every swat I placed, and I placed them good. About ten swats later her bottom was a glowing pink and her thighs were tinting as she bit the blanket in frustration. It wasn't until somewhere around sixteen or so, when I placed a rogue swat in the crease of her buttocks and legs did her actually cry out. "And the ice queen thaws," I mumbled, an inside joke we shared when I playfully spanked her for non-serious reasons. That caused Irene to bite harder, close her eyes and feel tears well up. I was well past twenty five when she gave another cry, this time moving her hand to shield her burning backside. "Oh no you don't", I grunted as I grabbed her arm and pushed it up onto her back, holding it in place and I let five swats come down in quick, painful succession. "Brat, you know Dad doesn't tolerate you trying to block swat." Irene was lost, she had no idea how many swats had been delivered, she was silently crying into the blanket and trying not to give me the benefit of hearing her scream out loud. I took that as a sign as I wasn't spanking that precious bottom of hers hard enough or maybe her pain tolerance had increased. Either way I knew I had to do something else. For a moment Irene felt nothing, that was the worst sound in the world. What followed the silence made her want to cry harder: the sound of my belt flying through belt loops? "Since you're being so stubborn, Irene, I guess we'll just have to change up the method of how we do this." I released her hand and watched her pull it under her body, probably to protect it from flying out to save herself. The first time my belt bumped against her already red flesh, Irene let out a scream. "There we go," I growled, bringing the belt down again and again. Irene's cries grew louder, she desperately wanted me to be done and leave her, but I kept on going, hitting and hitting, swat after swat. She could hear me making approving sounds to myself, my anger was fading, and at least that's what she hoped. When I set the belt down on the end of the bed, Irene was crying into the blankets and made no attempt to hide it. I led her up by the waist, and gently across my lap with her bottom staring up at me, a beautiful shade of reddish purple. I smiled to myself, feeling the fruits of my labor when I ran my hand over the scorching flesh. More often than not, I usually warmed her up with a hand spanking, but today had been different. Anger had caused me to do something vile, but something I knew that Irene needed - I spanked because I wanted her to have no doubt when I said the next time you speed or drive dangerously it will be worse I meant it! When I said, "I love you to much to let you kill yourself!" I meant it! I lifted my hand and let it come down, slap after slap her cries got a little louder, then started to fade. I sighed deeply, knowing that my job was done; Irene had given up complete control and had surrendered. "I love you, Irene," I continued to hand spank her at a dull, idle pace, "that is why I spank you. As your Daddy, I agreed to help you with things you knew you had problems with and I care about you and I want you to be safe," she was mumbling promises, the way she always did - she'd do it again, but she'd be careful about getting caught. Again I led her, placing her on the bed and kissing her gently on the forehead. "I'm going to go make dinner, be down in an half an hour." I turned away from her, smiling as I exited the room. Irene lay on her stomach, letting her bottom get some needed cool air. She'd learned from previous spankings that the more she touched her butt, the more it hurt. Irene closed her eyes, a watery smile on her face and said, "Daddy, you girl loves you." The End
  4. What is in it for the HoH in a DD relationship? I understand the TiH perspective and it sounds lovely. But what draws someone to take the HoH role? Surely thre is more to it than control and the *ahem* scenery? I hope my question isn't rude or impertinent. I just wanna understand things.
  5. How does it work in FLR/DD families with kids? Always wondered how it was handled. Are they ever directly told and if so at what age? At any time do they ever see or hear discipline activity?
  6. I want to receive real punishment spankings for misdeeds that motivate me to change my behaviour. I had a serious spanking - no warm up, 100 strokes of the cane -that made me writhe in pain and at the time I genuinely couldn’t wait for it to be over. Within hours I was craving another spanking - I don’t understand, I wasn’t meant to like it. What can I do to make these spankings more of a deterrent?
  7. Hi everyone! This introduction is definitely long overdue as I am not new to the site. I am a 26 year old female from Virginia looking for a domestic discipline relationship. Like many of us on here I’ve been a spanko since birth and I’m looking for someone that wants to share the rest of their life with a fellow spanko and to start a family. I’m rather boring and normal except for this wonderful interest I have 😁 (please don’t let that discourage you from potentially getting to know me!). I’m extremely grateful for SN as without it I’m not so sure I’d be the person I am today. Thank you all 😊.
  8. I wish I knew this from the beginning. As lifestyle enthusiast's most like myself are ashamed and enthralled by the same thing. I'd say spanking, but perhaps that's only part of it. Ideally from the perspective of those like minded the fear of the punishment, and the fantasy of that fear are one in the same. To be a spanko is to love it, until you hate it. Perpetuating your love for it even more. To some, the guilt from craving a punishment you are suppose to see as a deterrent, will create an impulse to act out, just to ensure you "regret" the punishment. Because saying.... "I want you to spank me, but I don't want to enjoy it, and this makes me love it, because you force me to hate it." Makes you sound like a masochist.... but this we are not. A masochist implies we like the pain, but most of us don't like the pain, rather the fear of the pain, we are unable to escape, regardless of effort, and the loss of control that it brings. However often times, the stronger the desire for that loss of control the more controlling they become. In an effort to teach the dominant party to be more dominant they've made them submissive having an adverse effect, they then give their partner the space to administer the discipline, until it becomes to painful, and the session is truly being controlled by the one topping from the bottom. Where in absolute fact their mind is screaming at you "IGNORE EVERYTHING I SAY AND PUNISH ME FORCE ME TO REGRET IT, BECAUSE YOU WANT TO! ALREADY, DON'T YOU GET IT!" A student teaches their teacher, and expects the teacher to teach the lesson back to the student. only recycling the original lesson... Yeah this is topping from the bottom. it makes about as much sense as that just did, but a spankee will home in on an insecurity within their disciplinarian, and press that button repeatedly if they can. It's normal it's called a panic response. Remember the ultimate goal is to make the feeling they have no control whatsoever like a child being spanked by a parent, but account for an adult's pain thresholds regardless of your preferred parental method. the concept is identical. The only difference between parental vs DD spanking, is you have to punish the guilt from the secret desire away. Meaning the real lesson begins once the tears start flowing.. A spanking they can control is not a spanking it's a fetish. in the aftermath they should feel a child like Innocence restored through regression, and absolute forgiveness. Some call it sub space. Either way it is a feeling of pure ecstasy, resulting from their agony. and security that they are absolutely safe! enraptured in forgiveness! However I've learned this is not a destination one can find with a map. It responds to a need, not a want. Imagine if you will... a desert oasis, when you are thirsty. you can try to get back to that same spot, you may even find it, however that water will never have that sweet perfect taste it once did once you seek it this will never feel the same because it is no longer a need. For most of us that desert oasis comes from the first time we ever truly felt authentically disciplined. It's a place we sometimes wonder, was it real or our mind creating a mirage? My first time was on the spot, being held firmly in place, having a scolding tone reprimanding me as hard rapid fire swats are inflicted aggressively on the bare bottom, after pants and underwear are forcefully yanked down of course. Trying to fight it, but being overpowered, restrained, and defeated! continually spanked until, not only I stop resisting, but begin bawling, and sobbing. It's happening right now, and there is nothing you can do to stop it. It also helps if the reason for them us a spanking, we are unaware of until it is happening. The surprise on the spot punishment. No time to mentally prepare for. Also given tor a reason the spanker wants to give it for. We want them to punish us because they want to, and think we deserve it, not because we want them to. An understanding that so many will never comprehend. it is imperative the person delivering the discipline has a desire to do so, not an obligation! This was the first time I knew I started "Chasing the dragon" for those who know the phrase. it is a unique kind of euphoria. Some could technically go as far and call it an element of trauma bonding. Been there, done that, bought the T-shirt Yes a good disciplinarian needs to have a sadistic element. This is the most offensive, off putting question I've ever been asked "how is it punishment if you crave it?" With the following statement "I'll punish you by not giving you what you want" then you are not giving me discipline, you are invalidating my desire for it. Rather these people aren't worth the time but if they understand you don't enjoy the pain but the idea you don't have a choice, make the fear of consequences, stronger then the fantasy of that fear. A stronger dose then they ask for... This is the "unknown, or grey area" this might rub some the wrong way but A proper spanking I must instil. Is consensually against our will. Yes that is right. A true deterrent is given until contrite! it's controversial. The concept of 1950's housewife only becomes reality when the rule of thumb goes into effect, and the idea of safe words go out. That's right the idea that you can revoke consent because it hurts more then you're comfortable with, is taking away from the authenticity of the deterrent of a spanking being effective. Many know what I'm talking about. Those people often live in the shadow of this community afraid to get labelled..... whatever I don't care. The truth is, most have never hit their "Ceiling" in this lifestyle, because with more experience that ceiling gets higher and higher. This is because you pursue the question [what will it take to get me there] it was so obvious, you missed the answer. ask yourself am I ready to give up control beyond submission? into the realm of forced infliction? Am I ready to cross the line from volunteer, to victim, with faith they will not become a torturous villain? Yes this is dangerous, you even run the risk of developing PTSD, however some would argue that risk is what makes it worth it. There is a Japanese culinary delicacy called Fugu. This is a type of fish that is extremely poisonous. The Japanese government outlawed their chef's from using the part of the fish containing poison upon its preparation. However some will say the fear enhances the flavor. As some chefs will add just a tiny amount to give it flavor, with the trust it is not enough to kill you. This is the foundation behind the logic. "Yes I know that sounds like assault, blah blah blah go away you buzzkill." Technically the minute they say stop and you don't, it's crossed that line. So if you think I'm advocating this, it's purely "hypothetical" but I'll never tell you where I eat sushi either. Now this is a very advanced concept. For those truly devoted and only those devoted with their dynamic. Once upon a time, I knew a girl. She spoke of a partnership absolutely abusive. However what she asked hit me harder then anything. Is it wrong for me to miss what he did? because I never questioned his desire to do it. This is deeply, the reason I do sometimes miss my ex. Once you see past the BPD, there was a passion so deep it paralleled my own. It's arguably I just described Stockholm Syndrome... I'm not saying this is a healthy desire to have, but once you've eaten fugu, salmon is not the same... The trick is to prepare your rump roast with the same method to show you have the ability to hurt them, but the love to ensure it will only be enough to teach, and not to torture.
  9. I'm curious to know what people believe in and how they integrate or separate spanking and their belief system.
  10. Hi, We were looking for even more specialized forums. There seems to have been some forum going on the Taken in Hand but the last post has been a few years ago. Same for many other websites. Any suggestions where we can ask questions relating to TIH relationship?
  11. If you are looking for a fun, decidedly different read this summer, pick up the sequel to Cheeky's Legacy, Cheeky Meets Her Match! Our AI Computer heroine, having successfully spanked the President, expands her equation to reach out to other powerful miscreants, but a more powerful AI seeks to understand the magic Cheeky's community has uncovered. www://avid-publishing.com/dtbaggins
  12. Do you get spanked by your man every time you get out of line? Do you have to be naked when your man walks into the house?
  13. Has anyone ever tried spankings as a treatment for anxiety? I have generalized anxiety disorder and sometimes I get so anxious, I can’t really focus on anything else and start screwing up small things. Has anyone ever tried spanking in this situation? If so, has it helped?
  14. Hi, Im located in Atlanta, Ga and Ive been a spanko for as long as I can remember. Im a 30 year old guy and Im looking for a girlfriend for a domestic discipline relationship. Ive been looking everywhere for years and for some reason just joined this site. Im open to meeting people who dont live close as Ive found its hard to find spankos who live close. Dont be afraid to say hi!
  15. Oh boy, where do I start? i have had some limited experience in the lifestyle. I’ve received a few adult spankings, and some other genuine punishments. I’ve grown accustomed to having rules and I rely on them. Being single, and not having any rules or discipline has made life more difficult than it was before I had experienced those things. I’m a Christian woman that has been seeking a CDD relationship for years. I actually found Christ because I entered into a DD relationship with a Christian man. It’s amazing how life works so strangely that way. anyways, Im not sure how else to introduce myself. Im pretty boring. so yeah, nice to meet everyone lol
  16. Shit hit the fan last week and I got a little too mouthy with my HOH. Informed of a spanking and mouth soaping for tomorrow, and I am anxious awaiting the "talk" How do you deal with nervousness? How do you submit to punishment without wiggling and apologizing in hopes that it ends...?
  17. We made some changes for his preferences to domestic discipline. I’m really trying to listen more to Mike more but something I don’t get. Everything in quotations are his words not mine. He said he had his reasons and we’re still taking about things but we started a “new process” few nights ago when I got a pretty good maintenance spanking with his office belt. I’ll be posting another topic about that later. Mike is a tower of consistency and he wants more “structure to our routine so you always get the same message.” Again more about this later. Since I have been overly abused my safe just because I could in our journey in domestic discipline the past few years and now that we are engaged, I’ve relinquish it for good. It was my idea. Really didn’t need anyways, I trust him with my life and since I have such a high pain tolerance maintenance and warning spanking were pretty much ineffective. We completely revised our discipline relationship for the new year. I’ve been more honest with myself since last month’s foolish episode. I really didn’t need a safe word, I had to admit I was only playing games and sending the wrong message to him and he finally caught on. The game was a foot. Again more about another time, I digressed. Now, I have to spend a few minutes in the furthest corner of his condo, (hate this) until he finally calls for me. No matter if it’s a discipline one or not. He is usually sitting at the dinning room table about 10 feet away. Than I can turn around but I have to wait. After a little lecture, I have to get ready right there. After he tells me too every single time he wants my jeans all the way to my ankles and panties just down to my knees and no further. Than he wants me to slowly shuffle over to him with my hands on my bottom every inch of the way. Over ten feet away! I don’t get it. I’m obeying him but what’s with that? I just want to black it out and get it over with and move on as quickly as we can. His default position now is over his leg. He puts his foot on the foot stool and I lay across his massive leg, dangling at both ends and pretty bent in half. He said he it’s “better visually, when wiggle and jiggle, flex and clench, weather it’s a little or a lot.” It has something to with the “seeing muscular definition of my butt cheeks during the spanking.” Because it takes him few minutes, no matter kind of spanking it is before I start reacting to it. It “a visually clue” for him. What with all the visual thing? Again, I just want to block it out and get done with it, why all this routine and specifics? Than to make matters worse what’s embarrassing me is visual “performance” for him. If it’s a particularly long spanking and it get really stingy and right when I start struggling a little, he stops let’s up and I do naturally I end up doing this “post spanking dance performance.” I push my hips forward, arched my back and began hopping up and down frantically rubbing my behind. I’m not necessarily crying but it hard and long enough for me be yelling, fluttering my feet and almost begin biting down on my pillow. By the way, every maintenance and warning spanking will be like that for now on. He isn’t telling me to do but I get the idea base on what happen the other night that he will make sure I end up doing it. I don’t know why but he said he actually like it when I do it? Again, it something visual, I don’t get? Sometimes I wonder if I’m the only that ends up doing of this this “dance” in real life after a good semi hard spanking? It’s really embarrassing to me why does he like watching me do it? Why can’t he just get on with the spanking, you would to think, I’m be the one stalling but it’s him making it of a more a process. I just want get it over with so we can move to the rest of the day or evening. I just want to the part where he is just holding me reassuring me. Or if it a discipline one, crying in his arms, where I feel so secure. No matter what kind of spanking it, does it have to be such a visual thing, you know what I mean? Is this just a guy thing? Is it Mike thing? We are still talking about thing but we are talking more about wedding plan now too. I’d like some feedback though, any thoughts?
  18. "YOUNG LADY!!!" Anya stopped dead in her tracks as the voice speaking these words made her blood run cold. Her mind raced as she tried to think of a good reason she had disobeyed him and left the house sick. Slowly, she turned and looked into her husband's deep blue eyes, which now seemed to bore into her very soul. "Um…honey…I…" Mitch threw his hand up. "DON'T!!!" he commanded in a tone she knew well. Mitch stood 6'04" and fairly towered over Anya's 5'05" frame. He slowly and purposefully approached her as she began to nervously play with the bottom of the t-shirt she was wearing. "Anya Marie…just what do you think you are doing?" His voice was low and steady as he asked her this question, not seeking an answer. "Just this morning I left you with a fever of 102.5! You were to be home resting! Instead I find you here…at the store…would you care to explain yourself?!?" Mitch glared at Anya as she nervously stumbled over her words saying, "I…I've been feeling better and I was bored to tears." Taking his wife by the arm and leading her out of the store to his car, he stated, "We're going back home and have a little discussion, young lady! Let me assure you, you will not be bored to tears." "But…but…"Anya stuttered "I don't think I would say anything further, Anya Marie," he strongly suggested. She wisely took the hint and sat quietly on the passenger side while she tormented over the fate that surely awaited her. Mitch was very serious about his wife's health since a severe bout with strep throat which landed her in the hospital the previous year. While Anya sat thinking, so did Mitch as he drove. He thought about his wife driving with a high fever, possibly passing out behind the wheel of the car…and any other number of things that could have happened. In silence, they approached the house. Pulling into the carport and stopping, Mitch turned to Anya and carefully said, "Get on up to the bedroom…NOW!" "Yes, Sir," she nearly whispered, opening the door and exiting the vehicle. Mitch watched as Anya slowly went inside, knowing what was running through her mind. Shaking his head, he quickly called his brother, making arrangements to pick up Anya's car later that day. He then strengthened his resolve and started inside himself. Anya sat on the edge of the bed waiting for Mitch to come up and discuss matters with her. She was not looking forward to this discussion. She heard Mitch slowly climbing the stairs and then watched as the door opened. Looking at Anya sitting appearing so pathetic, he went into the bathroom to get the digital thermometer. He needed to know if she was still running a fever. He would not punish her that day if she was. "Open up," he ordered, placing the thermometer under Anya's tongue then turning the armless desk chair and sitting. "Honey," Mitch started. "Do you understand how much I love you?" Anya responded with a quiet nod. "Do you realize that you could have been seriously injured had you say…passed out due to your fever while driving? You could have been hurt or hurt someone else!" He expressed with great concern evident in his voice. Anya glared at the floor as the thermometer signaled it was done. Removing it, Mitch stood shaking his head. He then showed the display to his wife. "101.9," he stated. "And you are out running around!" "I'm sorry, sweetheart," Anya said, beginning to cry. "Get changed and get back into bed. When your fever is gone, we WILL be discussing your behavior, young lady!" "Yes, Sir," Anya answered and quickly complied. For the rest of that day and the next day, Mitch stayed with Anya and nursed his ailing wife. Two days later, Anya sat on the edge of the bed with the thermometer protruding from her mouth once again, Mitch watching her. Beeping indicated that the moment of truth was at hand. Mitch looked at the display and nodded. "98.2," he stated. "I think it's time we have that talk, young lady." Sitting down in the armless desk chair, Mitch called Anya to him. Slowly she obeyed, eying the mahogany brush sitting ominously on the vanity, well within her husband's reach. "Honey," Mitch began. "Do you understand why I was so upset…and why you are being punished?" Hanging her head, she answered meekly, "Yes, Sir." Rolling up his sleeves, Mitch declared, "There's no reason then to put it off any longer," reaching out and pulling down Anya's panties, allowing her to step out of them before gently guiding her over his lap. "I hate to have to do this, honey, but you are going to begin taking your health seriously." With this statement, he began bringing his massive hand down repeatedly, turning her bottom bright crimson. "You will *SMACK* *SMACK* not drive *SMACK* *SMACK* when *SMACK* *SMACK* you have *SMACK* *SMACK* a fever *SMACK* *SMACK*…You will *SMACK* *SMACK* obey *SMACK* *SMACK* and rest *SMACK* *SMACK* when you *SMACK* *SMACK* are sick *SMACK* *SMACK*…do *SMACK* you *SMACK* under *SMACK* stand? *SMACK* *SMACK* *SMACK* *SMACK* *SMACK* *SMACK* Quickly reduced to tears, she wiggled and squirmed as she yelped, "Yes, Sir." Stopping for just a moment, he reached over to pick up the mahogany brush to make extra sure the point was understood and driven home. *CRACK* *CRACK* *CRACK* *CRACK* At this point, Mitch let the brush do the talking for him. The brush fell for a solid 5 minutes until Anya lay, limp and sobbing over her husband's lap. He then lay the brush back down on the vanity and began gently rubbing Anya's back saying, "its okay, honey…all is forgiven…it's over now." As her crying grew to soft sobs, Mitch picked up his well spanked wife and carried her over to the bed, where he lay her down gently and cradled her in his arms. He stroked her long amber locks as the woman he loved more than life itself drifted off to sleep and, gently kissing her forehead, whispering, "Life is good." *this story was previously posted*
  19. We recently purchased (and read together) a Domestic Discipline book. Although we have been in a DD/FLR contract for three years, this new DD book and website has been a game changer for our marriage. Healthy, REAL (non erotic), loving and intimate, domestic discipline for couples! with actual results. highly suggest!!!! Domestic-Discipline.net and their book for both Beginners or couples already practicing "a form" of Domestic Discipline. https://www.amazon.com/Guide-Domestic-Discipline-Successful-Relationship/dp/154956594X/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1512603241&sr=8-1&keywords=domestic+discipline Perfect Christmas gift for your spouse or partner. Goodluck!!!
  20. Hi everyone. I have 5 short story anthologies coming out in the next few months. The first of these was just published last week, and contains one part stories of M/F spanking and romance.... The Big Book of Brats, Volume 1. Do you enjoy romantic stories where the characters butt heads and have a contrary relationship on the surface of things, yet underneath it all they’re really hot for one another? Are you guilty of letting your own inner brat out to play? If so, then this book is for you -- from a distrusting wife to a coworker who purposefully sabotages her work computer just so she can flirt with the I.T. tech, this collection of short stories features bratty girls who stop at nothing to try to get their way. So get your brat on… and maybe even take a note or two from these heroines! ********** Excerpts: 1 “Obviously, I’m not being clear enough with you. I’m not really offering a choice here. You will call Fulton and explain yourself. That’s final.” She sneered at him. “That’s final? Who the hell do you think you are, anyway, Connor? My father?” “No. But I am the guy who’s going to put you in your place in about five seconds, if you don’t wake up and do what’s right.” “Oh, really?” she scoffed. A short, high laugh broke out from her lungs. “You’re going to put me in my place? And where, pray tell, would that be?” Connor felt a grin building inside him, but somehow he managed to keep his face straight. Here it finally was. Here was the opportunity he’d fantasized about for so long. He was finally going to spank Miss. Eva Blake’s rear end just as she so richly deserved. He grabbed her wrist, lightly but inescapably, and tugged until she went sprawling inelegantly over his thighs. “Hey!” she cried. “This is your place,” he told her as he tucked her scissoring legs between his own for safekeeping. He adjusted her bottom until she was centered just right, over his left knee. “At least, for the next few minutes or so. So, get comfortable.” And then he set about trying to light her bottom on fire. His hand was a flash in the air, swinging up high and far and then sailing down with lightning speed to meet with a loud clap on her bottom. She was wearing thin cotton pants and, from the looks of it, only a thong beneath them. She was quickly yelping in pain. His effective immobilization of her legs had her virtually trapped in place over his lap. She couldn’t kick or buck or do much else to try to dislodge herself, beyond a slight swaying of her hips from side to side. She was able to pound her fists, though, which she did with vigor on the mattress and the one leg of Connor’s that she could reach. “Let me go, you son of a bitch!” she screeched. “You can’t do this to me! I’ll report you! I’ll... I’ll call the cops!” Surprisingly, this threat only made Connor chuckle. His next volley of smacks came down just as hard. 2 He grinned at her. “If I didn’t know better, I might think you actually enjoyed getting spanked with that ruler.” Dana made an unladylike sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a snort. “Hardly!” she declared loudly. “Really?” Chris glanced pointedly at her hard, erect nipples where they strained against her blouse. Dana blushed hotly and crossed her arms over her chest. “That doesn’t mean anything,” she insisted. “Hmm.” He mulled over her hot denial, then leaned in close to her and whispered, “I bet if I put my fingers in you – right now – you’d be all hot and wet and ready for me. Now wouldn’t you, Dana?” Her blush deepened and for a few long moments, Dana was very aware of her hot face, blazing tush, and molten pussy. She ached to reach out and rub her body shamelessly against Chris, to take his hand and shove her panties aside so that he could do what he’d suggested. Instead, she forced her gaze to boldly meet his, and said, “You’re just going to say things like that to a girl, when you haven’t even kissed her yet?” He chuckled lightly, still so close to her that she could count the tiny crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes. “What are you doing for the holiday?” “Uh... nothing...” “Excellent. I’ll pick you up at noon. We’ll have ourselves a picnic at my place.” She blinked mutely at him. “Nod your head, so I know you hear me.” 3 "Take your clothes off," Trey commanded. She weighed her options: do what he said, and get spanked - or, try and run past him and prolong the fight.... "Suzannah, I said take your clothes off. Or I'll rip them off." A tremor went through her and she ran for the door. She made it to the landing at the top of the stairs before Trey caught up and grabbed her around the waist. He hefted her up against his side and carried her, kicking and screaming, back to their room. He dumped her with a bounce on the bed, then sat next to her. Before she had a chance to run again, he grabbed a wrist and pulled her face down over his lap. The tight skirt of her dress was yanked to her waist and Suzannah's slim legs encased in black hose were exposed. Her pert little behind, framed by her garter belt, was encased in lacy black panties. Despite the token struggle she was putting up even now, Trey noted that his little wife had worn her panties over her garter belt tonight, making it easier for him to pull the lacy underpants down, which he now did. The little vixen had planned this all along. Suzannah's bottom was creamy white, a sharp contrast to the black garter belt and hose. Trey was rock hard beneath her, aroused as always by this beautiful puzzle of a woman and all the games she liked to play. After admiring her backside a few moments, Trey let his hand glide over her smooth skin, circling first one cheek, then the other. Suzannah jumped at first, obviously expecting a smack, not a caress. Trey traced the line of one leg, rolling her hose down and off her dainty foot, then came back up to repeat the process with the other. He returned to cup her bottom, massaging it with a tender touch and eliciting a groan from his wife, He continued the stroking a while, just long enough to give her a false sense of security, then: SSSMAAACKK! ********** Thanks for reading. So many of you have been encouraging to me here, and I really do feel grateful for that; any reviews and/or ratings on Amazon are welcome and appreciated. You can buy The Big Book of Brats, Volume 1 here: https://www.amazon.com/Big-Book-Brats-One-ebook/dp/B076QLF1JM/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1509204022&sr=8-1&keywords=jodi+bella And my other books can be found here: https://www.amazon.com/Jodi-Bella/e/B01MS3VRZ3
  21. Hi everyone. I have 5 short story anthologies coming out in the next few months. The first of these was just published last week, and contains one part stories of M/F spanking and romance.... The Big Book of Brats, Volume 1. Do you enjoy romantic stories where the characters butt heads and have a contrary relationship on the surface of things, yet underneath it all they’re really hot for one another? Are you guilty of letting your own inner brat out to play? If so, then this book is for you -- from a distrusting wife to a coworker who purposefully sabotages her work computer just so she can flirt with the I.T. tech, this collection of short stories features bratty girls who stop at nothing to try to get their way. So get your brat on… and maybe even take a note or two from these heroines! ********** Excerpts: 1 “Obviously, I’m not being clear enough with you. I’m not really offering a choice here. You will call Fulton and explain yourself. That’s final.” She sneered at him. “That’s final? Who the hell do you think you are, anyway, Connor? My father?” “No. But I am the guy who’s going to put you in your place in about five seconds, if you don’t wake up and do what’s right.” “Oh, really?” she scoffed. A short, high laugh broke out from her lungs. “You’re going to put me in my place? And where, pray tell, would that be?” Connor felt a grin building inside him, but somehow he managed to keep his face straight. Here it finally was. Here was the opportunity he’d fantasized about for so long. He was finally going to spank Miss. Eva Blake’s rear end just as she so richly deserved. He grabbed her wrist, lightly but inescapably, and tugged until she went sprawling inelegantly over his thighs. “Hey!” she cried. “This is your place,” he told her as he tucked her scissoring legs between his own for safekeeping. He adjusted her bottom until she was centered just right, over his left knee. “At least, for the next few minutes or so. So, get comfortable.” And then he set about trying to light her bottom on fire. His hand was a flash in the air, swinging up high and far and then sailing down with lightning speed to meet with a loud clap on her bottom. She was wearing thin cotton pants and, from the looks of it, only a thong beneath them. She was quickly yelping in pain. His effective immobilization of her legs had her virtually trapped in place over his lap. She couldn’t kick or buck or do much else to try to dislodge herself, beyond a slight swaying of her hips from side to side. She was able to pound her fists, though, which she did with vigor on the mattress and the one leg of Connor’s that she could reach. “Let me go, you son of a bitch!” she screeched. “You can’t do this to me! I’ll report you! I’ll... I’ll call the cops!” Surprisingly, this threat only made Connor chuckle. His next volley of smacks came down just as hard. 2 He grinned at her. “If I didn’t know better, I might think you actually enjoyed getting spanked with that ruler.” Dana made an unladylike sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a snort. “Hardly!” she declared loudly. “Really?” Chris glanced pointedly at her hard, erect nipples where they strained against her blouse. Dana blushed hotly and crossed her arms over her chest. “That doesn’t mean anything,” she insisted. “Hmm.” He mulled over her hot denial, then leaned in close to her and whispered, “I bet if I put my fingers in you – right now – you’d be all hot and wet and ready for me. Now wouldn’t you, Dana?” Her blush deepened and for a few long moments, Dana was very aware of her hot face, blazing tush, and molten pussy. She ached to reach out and rub her body shamelessly against Chris, to take his hand and shove her panties aside so that he could do what he’d suggested. Instead, she forced her gaze to boldly meet his, and said, “You’re just going to say things like that to a girl, when you haven’t even kissed her yet?” He chuckled lightly, still so close to her that she could count the tiny crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes. “What are you doing for the holiday?” “Uh... nothing...” “Excellent. I’ll pick you up at noon. We’ll have ourselves a picnic at my place.” She blinked mutely at him. “Nod your head, so I know you hear me.” 3 "Take your clothes off," Trey commanded. She weighed her options: do what he said, and get spanked - or, try and run past him and prolong the fight.... "Suzannah, I said take your clothes off. Or I'll rip them off." A tremor went through her and she ran for the door. She made it to the landing at the top of the stairs before Trey caught up and grabbed her around the waist. He hefted her up against his side and carried her, kicking and screaming, back to their room. He dumped her with a bounce on the bed, then sat next to her. Before she had a chance to run again, he grabbed a wrist and pulled her face down over his lap. The tight skirt of her dress was yanked to her waist and Suzannah's slim legs encased in black hose were exposed. Her pert little behind, framed by her garter belt, was encased in lacy black panties. Despite the token struggle she was putting up even now, Trey noted that his little wife had worn her panties over her garter belt tonight, making it easier for him to pull the lacy underpants down, which he now did. The little vixen had planned this all along. Suzannah's bottom was creamy white, a sharp contrast to the black garter belt and hose. Trey was rock hard beneath her, aroused as always by this beautiful puzzle of a woman and all the games she liked to play. After admiring her backside a few moments, Trey let his hand glide over her smooth skin, circling first one cheek, then the other. Suzannah jumped at first, obviously expecting a smack, not a caress. Trey traced the line of one leg, rolling her hose down and off her dainty foot, then came back up to repeat the process with the other. He returned to cup her bottom, massaging it with a tender touch and eliciting a groan from his wife, He continued the stroking a while, just long enough to give her a false sense of security, then: SSSMAAACKK! ********** Thanks for reading. So many of you have been encouraging to me here, and I really do feel grateful for that; any reviews and/or ratings on Amazon are welcome and appreciated. You can buy The Big Book of Brats, Volume 1 here: https://www.amazon.com/Big-Book-Brats-One-ebook/dp/B076QLF1JM/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1509204022&sr=8-1&keywords=jodi+bella And my other books can be found here: https://www.amazon.com/Jodi-Bella/e/B01MS3VRZ3
  22. Over the years that I was writing on a regular basis for Discipline and Desire.com, I wrote over 50 short stories. Many of them were never collected outside of the website platform, which is now defunct. I’m happy to share the news that all 50-some of these stories will soon be in print again thanks to Blushing Books. They will be grouped according to similarities into 6 different collections, and as each is added on Amazon, I will share some snippets here for those of you who are interested. The first book was just released this week. It’s called Tails of the West, and features two novellas that are loosely tied together: Sales Blurb: If you like Old West stories, where no-nonsense lawmen know how to stand up to their sassy ladies, then the "tails" in this book are for you! In “The Sheriff and the Hellcat,” Katie’s father, an accused bank robber, goes on the run. Katie must find him before Sheriff Tristan James does – or her Pa could hang! But when Tristan discovers her following him, he’s not pleased... and when she pushes his buttons in her attempts to save her father, he’s not afraid to show his displeasure. In “Courting Maggie,” Maggie loves being romanced by the good, patient and handsome Sheriff Daniel Adams. He even tries to be understanding of her protesting against the town saloon where her brother died in a knife fight. But as Maggie tests her boundaries in her attempts to shut the place down, she begins to realize that the Sheriff has a hard side as well – and her bottom pays the price for her actions. Publisher’s Note: This two book set contains elements of domestic discipline. ********** Excerpts: ---1--- It was a strange experience, bathing in the same room as a man, Katie reflected. Of course, her bath was set up behind the changing screen, but she had no doubt that Tristan could see just about everything through the flimsy material. She tried to relax her muscles and enjoy the water. "I suppose you'll be going back out tonight?" she called. She winced at the wavy tremor in her voice. "As soon as you finish up back there, yes." Katie bristled. Tristan had insisted on staying with her through her bath, then on emptying the tub and returning it to the hotel himself. Otherwise, he would have had to let the staff come up for it, and that would have meant leaving the door unlocked and trusting Katie. That, of course, was out of the question. "If I'm holding you up, Sheriff James, please just go ahead with your business. A real gentleman wouldn't insist on staying in the room while a lady bathed anyway." There was the faint sound of a chuckle from the other side of the screen. "Well, sweetheart, I never said I was a gentleman, and you certainly are not a lady, so I don't see whereas we need to worry about that." The use of the word 'sweetheart' made Katie's stomach flutter with butterflies while at the same time his comment about her not being a lady caused her blood to boil. Without any forethought, she sent the sopping wet wash cloth sailing over the changing screen in the general direction of his voice. There was a satisfactory SPLAT when it landed and she suppressed a giggle, hoping it had met square with Tristan's head - which, as luck would have it, it had. Tristan made a low growling sound, but there was a smile in his voice. "You're lucky I have a sense of humor, Kate," he said. "Else I'd come around that screen, bend you over the side of that tub, and spank your wet rear end." His words made her sex twitch. She didn't understand that for a minute. She covered her confusion with bravado. "Even you wouldn't be so uncivilized as that...." "Don't bet on it." "....and besides that, you are never going to touch me in that manner again. It's completely inappropriate. You are not my father or my husband - you're not even my friend. And I won't allow you to...to do *that* again!" There, that was telling him! This time the laughter coming through the screen was strong and loud. "I have no doubt in my mind that I will spank you again, Kate. And just so you're forewarned, the next time you're over my knee, your drawers will be down around your knees and your skirt up around your waist, so you have the full affect of my hand." Again her body reacted in ways she didn't understand. She broke into a sweat in the tepid bathwater which suddenly seemed unbearably hot, then sprang up and into the tattered towel awaiting her. She had probably never dressed so quickly in her life as she did that night, so afraid was she that Tristan might carry through his threat. When she stepped back around the changing screen he was waiting with his broad arms crossed in front of him and a bemused expression on his face. She crossed the room and dug into her saddlebags, determined to ignore him. "Where is my...." Her question was cut short and subsequently answered by a soft, teasing rap on her backside though her dress. She jumped a mile in the air despite the gentleness of the touch and flew around at a grinning Tristan, holding her hairbrush in his hand like it belonged there. "Looking for this?" he asked innocently. She snatched the proffered object, restraining herself from clawing his eyes out the way she itched to. Yanking the brush through her wet hair, she glared at him as though trying to strike him dead with her gaze alone. He chuckled and tweaked her nose. "You're mighty cute when you're riled up, you know that, Kate? I never noticed it before." ---2--- Daniel just continued to sit and wait her out, watching her with an openly amused expression on his handsome face. "You’re in a locked cell, sweetheart," he reminded her – as if she’d forgotten! "You’re not going anywhere except over my knee for a good tanning, so you may as well come on over here so we can get started." A part of Maggie knew the dignified thing to do would be to give in and submit herself to Daniel’s punishment. But something in her just couldn’t make her legs move in that direction, and instead she found herself turning and running to the door of the cell, where she yanked and clawed at the bars, screaming for help and desperate to escape her fate. There was a resigned sigh from behind her, and a moment later Maggie felt Daniel’s hands on her hips. He banded his arm around her middle from behind and lifted her bodily off her feet, carrying her back to the cot while she kicked and struggled wildly in the air. He flipped her face down over his knee and immediately clamped her churning legs between his own to try to stay her flailing. "No! Don’t you dare!" Maggie was shouting, bucking her body and rocking from side to side, anything she could think of to dislodge herself from this position. "Maggie, calm down," Daniel said calmly. He managed to hitch her skirt up to her waist despite her struggles and she started cursing him as he searched under her for the ties to her drawers. "Maggie, you’d best stop fighting me. It will only make things worse if you keep struggling." "You have no right to do this!" she shrieked. "Let me go, Daniel, right this minute!!" Daniel’s patience was growing thin as he continued to search for the ties and tried to keep hold of the jumping bean over his knee. Finally he gave up on the ties, took a fist full of her drawers at the waist and gave the soft muslin a hard yank. The resulting sound of ripping material was almost as satisfying to Daniel as the sight of Maggie’s small, shapely, creamy skinned bottom peaking up at him from beneath the ripped undergarment. Maggie twisted her head about to see what he’d done and let out a scream of outrage. "You beast!" she exclaimed, trying to shield her naked backside with her hand. Daniel gripped her wrist and, smiling all the while, pinned her hand to the small of her back. He pushed aside what remained of the ruined drawers, and pulled his arm back high above his head in preparation for her first smack. ********** Thank you for reading; reviews from the community are always welcome and appreciated. You can find Tails of the Old West for sale on Amazon here: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B076BZK4T7/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1507767024&sr=8-1&keywords=jodi+bella+tails And my other books can all be found here: https://www.amazon.com/Jodi-Bella/e/B01MS3VRZ3/ref=dp_byline_cont_ebooks_1 Or here http://blushingbooks.com/index.php?l=product_list&m=503
  23. This profile represents both parties of a married couple learning the ropes of female-led DD. This arrangement seems like it has real potential to work for both of us, bringing her a sense of empowerment, and bringing him comfort, while allowing both of us an opportunity to grow. He is smart and nice, but also marked by a plethora of personal issues in which he needs maturity. She is kind and loving almost to a fault, but needs to feel strong and capable. Together we are JustUs and we are a part of this site in order to gain insight about this lifestyle. Thanks to all of you who may contribute to our growth in DD and with one another.
  24. New Domestic Discipline Dating website xxxxxxx Spankmeal Admin Note: Link removed. Sorry, if it was a true DD site I would allow it, but a Dating Factory affiliate front we just don't need.
  25. To all those who do not yet know me, hello! I'm Kate, from the sunny island of Great Britain. I'm single and waiting for the time where Mr Right comes and knocks me off my feet. But the wait for this God-send is very much testing my patience. I am looking for a Kind-Hearted man with understanding, humour and empathy. I am not interested in a dominant man, or a controlling man as I am independent and I do like my freedom; but I do need a strict, loving man who will love me, protect me, help me up in the many times I fall down and help me to gain some motivation, self discipline and a few rules here and there. I am looking for a man who earns my respect not demands it, who I look up to and who I want to serve, obey, take advice from, give advice to and be in partnership with. Most of all I am looking for a man who is a Christian and who wants a Domestic Discipline relationship. Although I have been on a few various sites, finding a Christian man who wants a DD relationship seems to be a constant struggle. I find that the men who are round the right age bracket for myself are their into the more sexualised/erotic area of spanking which is not what I am looking for. I am not looking for talk about my childhood spankings, or to be spanked online, I am not going to stand in the corner on webcam to make you feel bigger; don't hold my past against me. I do need discipline and I am well overdue a spanking, but I am looking first for a relationship, secondly to be disciplined. I am not looking for a relationship revolving around spanking, I am looking for a normal relationship where spanking is used when needed (I warn you, it'll be often!) I am not cute, sweet and obedient, I do have a will and I do find a way! I am not spiteful, don't do revenge, hate confrontation, don't swear, smoke etc, but I am human and I do make mistakes.
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