Friday, April 16, 2010


Spankings Solve Everything

When you get to be my age, there is a problem to being handsome... all of your fellow male co-workers feel the need to come to you for advice with their intimate relationship problems.

Fortunately, with my looks, I don't often have that problem.

However, the other day I was having lunch with a younger former co-worker. He confided to me that he was afraid his wife might be think of asking for a divorce. When I asked why, he told me that his better half had become rather uninteresting in bed. I believe the phrase he used was "cold fish." He went on to say that he thought his spouse had lost interest in him and was thus not anxious to engage in sexual relations.

Since I really did not give the proverbial rat's ass about his marital problems or his sex life, I tried several different approaches to change the subject to one more insubstantial, but this gentleman seemed to think that I was a font of advice and was desirous of sharing it. So, after listening to him whine for several more minutes, I told him that perhaps their sex life had become rather boring.

"But we've had sex the same way for years and she always enjoyed it!" was his response.

"Did your wife's disinterest seem to happen suddenly or has her libido gradually waned?" I asked.

"Well ... I'm not sure...".

So not only was this person boring, but he was clueless. So I suggested the one thing that all Spankos offer to spice up lovemaking.

"Why don't you try spanking her," I said.

My lunch partner was aghast. "Won't that hurt her?" her asked.

"Probably," I responded, "but maybe she'll like it."

After a period of refreshing, if awkward, silence, during which he mulled over my advice, he hesitantly said that he might give spanking a try. Truthfully, I thought this guy was more likely to be spanked than to give a spanking, but I wanted to move the conversation past his problems, so I let it go. We finished our lunch and went our own ways.

Later that day, I related our conversation to Angela. "Good answer," was her response. I thought she was being sarcastic.

"No, seriously, Frank, that was a good answer. If this guy's wife is bored in bed, anything he does to take charge and change things up will probably turn her on."

A few days later, my friend called me to relate what had happened, even though I had forgotten about our earlier discussion and didn't really care anyway.

Apparently, when my he went home that night, he asked his wife to come to the bedroom where he wanted to talk to her. He nervously told her that she had been bad and he was going to spank her. He took hold of her arm and pulled her over his lap, then tentatively patted her bottom a couple of times. He then proceeded to confess that he was afraid that she wanted to leave him and that he'd do anything so that she'd remain his wife. This little whiny disclosure somewhat irritated his wife, who responded be telling him:

"Will you just stop your complaining and spank me already!!"

My friend reacted by whacking her butt, rather hard, several times. He said that he was shocked at his actions, and started to apologize when his wife said, "I dare you to try that again!" He took the dare.

To make a long story less long, they proceeded to engage in an exuberant, naked romp. Afterwards, he told her how much he admired his wife's red butt, and she admitted that she liked the warm feeling that remained on her cheeks. After some cuddling, they romped again. Now, he said, if either of them even hints at spanking, they both get so aroused that they practically run right to the bedroom.

I was going to tell him that it might be fun if they didn't bother with the bedroom, but I figured that I'd save that one for the next person who needed advice about their sex life.

Tuesday, April 06, 2010


How A Spanko Enjoys The Final Four

I was sitting around early Saturday evening waiting for the Final Four of the college basketball tournament to begin when I heard my eldest daughter, Maribel, say those words to my other daughter, Colette, and her boyfriend, Luke, that always put a smile on a healthy spanko's face:

"Hey, guys, how about we go out and get some pizza and maybe see a movie? My treat!"

Translation: Mom and Dad need some time alone so that they can have some nice, noisy sex, so let's get out of their way for a few hours.

Maribel, who's twenty-four and is a spanko in her own right (although we don't talk about that), plays professional basketball in Europe. Her season is over, so she is back home. She usually is just as attached to the television during the NCAA tournament as I am. However, recently her interest has been more on the women's side of the game, and since the ladies were not in action Saturday, she was looking to spend the evening out. Colette had played a softball game earlier in the day (in the drizzle and mud, as per tradition at this time of year in this part of the country), and she didn't seem interested in sitting around the house, so she was more than happy to accompany her sister. Luke was content to go anywhere Colette went.

While Colette and Luke were getting ready, I approached Maribel and slipped her twenty bucks. "Please keep them busy," I told her, "and do NOT get home before eleven PM!" With a big grin, Maribel told me that she would be happy to stay out late, and would call me if by some chance they were going to be back early.

As we watched the three of them drive off (they were meeting Maribel's boyfriend at the pizza restaurant), Angela said to me, "I'll meet you back in the living room. I need to to grab a few things." By "things" I knew she meant "spanking implements."

"And make sure that your pants are off when I get back!" she called over her shoulder as she disappeared.

While Angela was making her preparations, I made us some Nilgiri tea. When she returned, she had removed her pants, and, in fact, had changed into a cute little t-shirt that loosely hung about half-way down her cute little tush. She was carrying a blanket and several paddles of varying sizes and weights. We snuggled down under the blanket on the sofa in front of the fireplace and sipped on our tea and watched a little more hoops. Then Angela slid over my lap and said, "I'm a little cold. Could you warm me up?"

I reached for a hairbrush paddle and gave Angela's bare bottom a series of slow, sharp whacks while we continued to enjoy the game. I gradually increased the intensity until her cheeks were a nice, pale shade of red. I set down the paddle and rubbed her rump, allowing my hands to share the warmth on her tush. I then took up the paddle again and added some warmth.

After a while, we switched positions and Angela used my warmed butt to warm her hands, that is after she properly warmed my butt. When her legs became tired because I was laying across them, I knelt, backwards, on the sofa and bent over the sofa back. I didn't like this because I could not see the game while I was being spanked. So I settled into a convenient position over an ottoman where I could see the television and Angela could comfortably whip my butt with a strap.

After both of us were well-warmed, we watched the dramatic conclusion of game one (gotta love those Bulldogs!), and then decided to get serious, spanking-wise. I laid Angela over the sofa and work her over with the strap, then piled the sofa cushions up underneath her so that I could lay into her with a leather paddle. I even pulled her cute little bottom-cheeks apart and used the hairbrush paddle to spank the tender flesh there. When I was finished, her rear end was a nice, uniform shade of deep crimson, top to bottom and side to side.

We switched positions, with me laying over the cushions and Angela wielding the weapons of mass-butt destruction (yes, that was a bad turn of phrase ... sue me). She used the leather paddle with vigor, then took up the strap to work on the more sensitive areas where the thighs meet the buttocks. Angela knows just where to strike to generate the most pain, which was intense and wonderful. Finally, she took the hairbrush paddle and had me stand up and bend over the cushions. She had me rise up on my toes to give her a more generous target, and then proceeded to pummel my poor fanny until her arm tired out. At spankings end, my backside was hot enough to barbecue hot dogs.

Angela set down the paddle and, while I was still over the cushions, continued to work on my butt, only this time instead of whacks and slaps it was with squeezes and rubs. Her hands proceeded to explore beyond my cheeks, then her tongue replaced her hands, then ... well, you get the picture.

Suddenly, Angela remarked, "Looks like the second game is starting."

"That's okay," I breathlessly replied.

"Don't you want to watch?"

"If I miss the first few minutes, I won't mind."

"Nonsense," replied Angela. She had me get up and she replaced the cushions to where they belonged. Then she sat me down in front of the TV.

"Can you see the screen?" she asked.

"Well... yeah," I answered, somewhat disgruntled.

"Good," said she. She then proceeded to kneel in front of me, gently part my legs with her hands, and resumed her "exploring." It quickly became difficult to pay attention to the basketball action, but I didn't mind. I was having some action of my own.

For this next part, you might want to send the children out of the room.

Angela rose up and climbed onto the sofa, straddling my hips. Slowly, she lowered herself onto me. As per what usually happens when she does this, my eyes rolled up into my head, my head lolled back, and the noises I began to make cannot be described and can only be imagined by someone who has been there. Eventually, I felt Angela's heart begin to beat faster, and she wrapped her arms tightly around me as she continued her ride to ecstasy. Her own breathing became faster and noisier, and her arms held me tighter. We climaxed together in a sweaty, noisy embrace.

We sat there just holding each other for several moments, catching our collective breath. When my eyes refocused, I glanced over and saw the dog, Flash, staring at the two of us like we were completely crazy.

Well, I suppose that, for at least a while, we were.

We disenganled, and Angela dismounted and sat next to me on the sofa. We cuddled for a bit, and then Angela turned to me, stretched, and said, "Shall I go and get the paddle?"

At this point, two things need clarification.

Point number one is that, in the Spanko vernacular, the phrase "the paddle" has only one meaning: The big, long, rather heavy wooden spanking paddle, in the fashion of a school or fraternity paddle.

Point number two is that I am a person who greatly adores a good, post-coital paddling. Feeling the clout of the sturdy wood against my already well-spanked derriere while I am relaxed and calm is, to me, a most pleasant sensation.

Angela scurried off and fetched the paddle. With her cute behind all nice and red, Angela looks simply adorable when she scurries and fetches. As she was returning, she tried to put on her "business" face. "You're really gonna get it now, mister!" she said. She tried to sound stern, but quickly dissolved into giggles. I stood up and moved behind the sofa, which sits in the middle of the room, piled up a couple of cushions so that I didn't have to stretch my hamstrings too much (it sucks getting old), and bent over, presenting a waiting bottom my darling wife.

"How would you like it, sir?" she sarcastically asked.

"How about medium rare," I responded.

"Sorry, sir, but we prepare everything here well done!" And with that, Angela proceeded to deliver twenty-five nice, hard swats to my butt. When she finished, I was wonderfully warm and sore. I knew that sitting would remind me of tonight's activities for several days.

"How was that, sir?" said my wife.

"That was very nice, thank-you."

"Well," Angela said, "I settle for nothing less than perfection, and your butt is not quite perfectly done yet!" So Angela laid on twenty-five more swats.

I do so appreciate being married to a spanking perfectionist.

When Angela finished paddling me, I thanked her by making ice cream sundaes for both of us, complete, naturally, with a cherry on the top. Then we settled down to watch the rest of the basketball game.

Just as the game was ending, Maribel called. "Are you guys finished, or should I take everyone out for ice cream?" she asked. I chuckled at my daughter's insolence. I told her that we had enjoyed peacefully watching the games, which was essentially true except that we did other things besides just watching. I also told her that, should they wish ice cream, that I had some genuine Saunders' fudge sauce that they could use for topping if they wanted to head back to the house. Colette simply loves Saunders' fudge sauce.

The offspring and their respective beaus arrived home in due course. Angela and I sincerely thanked Maribel for taking our other charges out for the evening. "No problem," responded Maribel. "Oh, and we're using in the guest house tonight." Apparently, Maribel and the boyfriend were planning on making some noise of their own.

I was more than happy to leave them to their young libidos. After all, since Angela and I had enjoyed a fantastic spanking, they deserved to enjoy some, too.

Sunday, March 21, 2010


Be Warned

This is one of my favorite times of the year. The NCAA college basketball tournament is underway. Thursday and Friday, I planted myself in front of my television at 11 am each day, and I did not get up until the all of the games of the day were over. With my main television, a smaller portable, a desktop PC, and a laptop, I could watch as many as four games at one time. It was bliss.

Unfortunately, Saturday did not begin quite so well. We had received one of those promotional giveaway boxes of Chocolate Cheerios in the mail the other day, so I opted for those as my morning repast. I figured that I like chocolate, and I like Cheerios, so Chocolate Cheerios should be pretty good, right?


The cereal tasted neither like chocolate nor like Cheerios. Furthermore, cereal is supposed to be crunchy. However, I had no sooner poured milk on said Chocolate Cheerios than they turned into a substance more similar dark brown mush. Rather than cereal, my breakfast more closely resembled really runny pudding. They were so bad that not even Flash, Luke's dalmatian puppy, wouldn't eat them, and Flash once ate a truck tire.

Thankfully, the day improved from that point forward. It progressed to basketball, then to spanking, then to a naked wife and more spanking, etc., etc.

But that, my friends, is a story for another day. One that I might even relate to you in the coming days.

In conclusion, if you are one who often goes for cold cereal for breakfast, I cannot recommend Chocolate Cheerios.

Unless you like runny chocolate pudding.

Wednesday, March 10, 2010


More Meme Of A Theme

Today, I will address two of the last questions from the long spanking meme that I began sometime in the Clinton administration.

48. Would you rather be spanked exclusively on your bottom or other places could be interesting too?
Bottoms were made for spanking. They are the correct size, shape, and location. The human tush is also one of the major erogenous zones. So, for those of us where spanking is part of our sexuality, the multiple sensations to the gluteous maximus that come from a spanking is most welcome.

Angela and I almost exclusively restrict the locations on each other that we spank to the buttocks. If we are having a particularly intense spanking session, we might work our way down to the top of the thighs. If one is in a place where they are looking for a more vividly painful experience after one's bottom has been well punished, spanking the thighs can provide a quite exquisite sensation.

I have never tried being spanked on the hands, feet, nipples, genitals, or other spots that some might considered spankable, nor do I wish to.

49.Would you rather a spanking be a surprise or be something you have to look
forward to?
For the most part, in a spanking relationship, I'm not sure that any spanking is truly a surprise. For the spankee, you know that you're going to be spanked eventually. You just may not know when. In my case, I look forward to all spankings, whether or not I know when I am going to get them. That being said, it is always pleasant when Angela expresses a desire to spank me, then sets the time for that spanking somewhere in the future. The anticipation is always delicious. Indeed, in the past, I may not have been in a spanking mood, but then Angela will mention that she'd like to redden my rump later that day. I always have to choice to turn down the spanking when the time comes. Usually, however, as I consider what is to occur and the pleasure that it usually brings, my mood changes and, by the time the appointed hour has arrived, my bottom is plenty ready for whatever she has planned.

In addition, jointly planning a spanking is also something that Angela and I enjoy doing. We have been known to sit down in the morning and discuss when the spankings will take place, what implements will be used, what positions will be employed, etc. We will frequently allow some part of the spanking to be decided by random choice. For example, we might choose four implements, then using a standard deck of cards, assign each implement to one suits in the deck. Then we will draw cards. We might also let the cards determine how many spankings someone will get, such as one must keep drawing and being spanked until they have drawn at least one card in each suit. We might also set up a scenario for spanking, and then use the results of the roleplaying to determine the type and severity of the spankings. In this fashion we have had times where we've maybe there were only one or two spankings given, and others where the spanking session lasted multiple hours or even days.

Finally, since we have had children for the past 24 years, it has not really been feasible for one of us to say to the other, "I'm going to spank you right now!" Instead we have needed to have some foresight as to an opportunity when would have some time to ourselves, perhaps when the children were at school, or had gone to play with friends. As I'm sure many of you will attest, this can be frustrating at times, but when opportunity is then found to engage in some spanking activity, the fun seems extra satisfying.

Therefore, indeed, I like spankings to be something that I can look forward to, and I look forward to all spankings.

The final question sums up ones approach to their whole spanking existance, and, as such, will require a post of its own for me to address.

Tuesday, March 02, 2010


Frank Muses About Sex

Age has a funny way of messing with elapsed time. When you're a kid in school, those last two hours before the end of the day seem to take forever. When you start to work for a living, the time between now and Friday seems to go at a glacial pace. When Angela was pregnant, the last three months before our children were born felt more like three years.

When you get to be my age, the years whiz by like cars on the expressway.

Angela and I still have a happy, regular sex life. When we first met, we would rut like bunnies. At every opportunity, we would fool around with considerable gusto. If more than two days passed without us having intercourse, it felt like we hadn't touched each other in ages. I've always felt like that hasn't changed. I never was the kind of person who was satisfied with the obligatory once-a-week boink. Despite children, work, volunteering, sickness, and injury, we are never hesitant to get naked with each other and do so as often as possible.

So, the other day, whilst laying in bed watching the last part of the Olympic closing ceremonies, Angela and I thought that a little kanoodle
was in order. I remarked to Angela that I was most pleased with how often we engaged in our marital relations.

My dear wife chuckled. "How often do you think we have sex?" she asked with a smile.

"Oh," replied I, "two, maybe three times a week." Angela chuckled again, at least until I did something that elicited something more carnal than a chuckle.

When we finished
our little romp, Angela posed the question again, and suggested that, to get a clearer picture, we try to remember how many times we had copulated in 2010. I don't wish to brag, but our lovemaking tends to be fairly memorable, so the chore was not that difficult. I had procured a pen and paper to keep track of the count.

When we felt like we had included each time, I tallied up the total and determined that the number of times that Angela and I have had sex in 2010 was:


Or ... about once a week.

And it seemed like we had our last roll in the day just a day or two before.

I guess that two days just isn't like it used to be when we were younger.

After concluding our analysis, I had a question for my darling wife.

"My dear, shall we go for number ten?"

Her smile was answer enough for me.

Friday, February 26, 2010


Frank Discusses Statistics

Last week, Bonnie Burns, the Earnest Hemingway of the spanko world and author of My Bottom Smarts, published a poll asking her readers to describe their spanko orientation. The answers were basically broken down into male/female, straight/gay/bisexual, and spanker/spankee/switch. The results thus far of the poll can be found here .

I have always been something of a numbers person. I enjoy breaking down polls and statistics. This might seem strange to some, since one might expect an imaginary spanko to prefer imaginary numbers. But no matter. I have analyzed some of the results to Bonnie's poll and found some interesting items.

First, of the 366 respondents, 232 or about 65% identified themselves as male, 133 as female, and one as a platypus. For the sake of accuracy, I have disqualified the response of the platypus. Of the males, 50% identified said that they get spanked, either a spankee or a switch. For the ladies, just 22 of 132, or 17%, categorized themselves as women who spank, i.e. spanker or switch. 83% of women said that they ONLY receive spankings, they never dish them out.

While this poll was certainly not scientific, these results were, nonetheless, fascinating, although not quite fantastic. If half of all male spankos get spanked, but only one sixth of women spank them, that can only lead to one conclusion:

Women who like to spank men do not like to respond to Bonnie's polls.

I thought that perhaps there were a fair number of men who, due to situations beyond their control, only received their spankings from themse
lves, i.e. they were self-spankers. However, I could not determine if such a person would answer that they were spanker, spankee, or a switch, so I discounted that notion all together.

I'm sure that some may try to develop other theories as to where the discrepancy between male spankees and female spankers lie. You might think that women who spank men aren't as likely to spend their spare time reading about spanking on the internet. Perhaps these women aren't as dedicated to the general spanking lifestyle as men, but rather spank their men because their men ask them to. Perhaps many men wish to be spanked but currently do not have a partner who can spank them.

It is also possible that those 22 women who spank are spanking all 116 men who wish to be spanked. Those would certainly be very busy women, indeed.

I could attempt to post my own poll to try to obtain more information that might explain the difference. However, since I am an imaginary spanko, it seems much more logical that I should simply invent my own reasons.

For me, fortunately, I have one woman whom I spanks, and that same woman is more than happy to spank me. I don't need any analysis to interpret that statistic. I just categorize it as fantastic.

Wednesday, February 17, 2010


Unfinished Business

In Fantastic Spanking, BH (before hiatus), I had been elucidating on a "meme" that had been published in a number of blogs that contained 50 questions relating to one's spanking questions. The questions mostly involved a choice between two related spanking options. The challenge that I gave to myself was that I had to choose one of the options, I could not fall back on choosing "both" or "neither." Since I am prone to wordiness, I also took this opportunity to provide the reasoning behind my choices. This way I could take one subject and write multiple posts on it, thus not having to think of other things to write about.

Having not thought of anything else to write about, I shall endeavor to complete the task, answering the remaining six questions over the next couple of posts. After concluding the survey, I will provide a list of all of the posts that I have written on this subject, because I know that you will all want to go back and read my answers again.

45. Would you rather your spanking be gentle and gradual or painful and abrupt?
In the Spanko domicile, there is no such thing as a "gentle" spanking. If it's gentle, it's not a spanking, it is lightly patting. A spanking is sharply striking a person with an open hand or an implement upon the buttocks. The key word there is "striking." If the contact with the buttocks is not "sharp," but "gentle," then it is just a pat. Spankings are meant to be painful. It is part of the experience.

46. Would you rather be defiant or fearful going into a spanking?
This is not an easy question for me to answer because spankings for Angela and I are a pleasing experience, something that we wish for and look forward to. The two choices presented in the question, defiant and fearful, are usually associated with something that one is anticipating with dread, or at the very least, trepidation. I really don't experience either when I ready myself to be spanked by my darling wife. So, to supply an answer, I need to rely somewhat on my imagination and picture myself in some different scenarios.

One scenario would be where Angela and I are role-playing. This is something that we do rather frequently. As I've mentioned before, Angela will often dream up rather outrageous reasons to paddle me. For example, I was once spanked because I was contributing to a canine take-over of humanity because I was displaying too much affection towards our pet dog. In these situation, I typically adopt a playfully defiant attitude.

In a different vein, were I truly being "punished" for some inappropriate action that I had taken, I'm sure that I would also put on a defiant face, to let the person punishing me think that they would not be able to affect my dignity.

So, in either case, my choice would be to be defiant rather than fearful when preparing to be spanked.

47. Would you rather be spanked exclusively in your own bedroom or anyplace else other than your own bedroom?
My interpretation of this question is that it is a choice between ALWAYS being spanked in one's bedroom or NEVER being spanked in one's bedroom. The nice thing about bedroom spankings is that they can easily transition into other pleasant adult activities that one generally participates in when not wearing pants. It is also a convenient place to store ones spanking accoutrement, keeping away from all but the nosiest eyes.

However, in a lasting relationship, one would think that being restricted to only one small place in which to be spanked could become rather tedious. In the past year alone, Angela and I have exchanged spankings in our living room, den, kitchen, in the hallway, in the guest house, in one or two hotel rooms, and on the runway of a small airport (the details of which would require more space than I have currently allotted for my online diary). Further, vacations and romantic weekends often include spankings, so if I was to only be spanked in my boudoir, these would have to be forgone. I cannot imagine not being able to take advantage of new and clever spanking locales.

To summarize, if I had to give up being spanked in my bedroom so that I could be spanked in the infinite other places that the world has to offer, I would do so.

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