Saturday, February 09, 2008
Stress Relief, Spanko Style
“Why were you so rude to that waitress?” I asked.
“Because she sucked,” Angela responded.
“We’ve had worse,” I opined. “Besides, she was very nice. The late food was more likely the fault of the kitchen rather than the waitress.”
“She still sucked. You just liked her because she was cute.”
“She wasn’t all that cute. Our daughters are way cuter.”
“But I’m not?”
Angela was in a snit. Yes, our waitress was slow an inexperienced. Yes, it took a long time for our food to arrive, even though the restaurant was not really busy. But the food was good and plentiful, and we were not in a hurry. And yet Angela made several impolite comments in a fairly loud voice that, if the waitress didn’t hear, some of the other patrons certainly did. Then Angela gave the poor girl quite a lecture when we were finished, and insisted that I not give her a tip. I tipped her anyway, mainly for putting up with Angela’s grumpiness without reacting.
When Angela gets like this, I must tread carefully. Our relationship is not one where Angela will purposely misbehave, or “brat” as many of you young ladies refer to that type of behavior. Usually, the best thing for me to do is to leave her alone for a bit, and then try to gently ask her what might be really bothering her. Sometimes it will be clear that the pain in her back (actual pain, not husband pain) will be flaring up, causing her to be rather touchy.
But sometimes she just needs a good spanking.
Since this is a spanking blog, and not one dedicated to marital relationships, it should be obvious which option I chose.
I pulled the car into the driveway, but stopped in front of the guest house. “What are you doing,” Angela inquired.
“Let’s go inside,” I responded. “We need to talk.”
When we were inside and I had closed the door behind us, I stated simply, “Go get a hairbrush.”
“I don’t want a spanking now.”
“Yes, but you need one. Go get the hairbrush.” Grumbling, Angela when to retrieve the requested implement.
I sat down on the couch, and Angela returned with the hairbrush, a nice, sturdy, wooden one. Angela may have said that she didn’t want a spanking, but we have several hairbrushes stashed in the guest house and she picked the heaviest one.
I had her drop her pants and told her to position herself over my lap. Still grumpling, she flopped herself down across my knees. I wasted no time in giving her about ten hard swats. Angela hollered and complained.
“Be quiet,” I told her sternly. “You need this and you know it. Now hold still and take this like a man!” That last bit was our little joke.
Angela relaxed and I resumed the spanking. I gradually increased the intensity and the rapidity, and I could feel her tense more and more. I paused briefly and rubbed her butt to let her relax a little, and to see how hot I had made her. I determined that her butt could take a little more pounding, so I applied the hairbrush again. She did not tighten up as much this time, so I knew that the paddling was working.
When I stopped, Angela let out a cleansing breath. I rubbed her broiled bottom again. “Thank-you,” she said, simply.
“Your welcome,” I responded. Angela sat up, and we talked and cuddled for a few minutes. After a while, Angela said, “We should get back to the main house to make sure Colette hasn’t burned it down yet.”
“Not yet,” I responded. “We’re not quite done yet. Go get a paddle.”
This time there was no grumbling. Angela scuttled off, and returned with her favorite paddle. I piled the sofa cushions up, and then had her bend over them so as not to put too much pressure on her back. Then I gave her ten good, hard whacks, making her count and thank me for each one. At the conclusion, I rubbed her butt a little more, then she fetched her pants and we returned to the barnhouse.
It sucks getting old. No, it’s not the creakiness that begins to set into the joints. It’s not the minor ailments that come one after another. The hardest part is trying to be nice so often in a world that is filled with assholes. Sometimes the resistance breaks down, and the anger comes pouring out. Too often that anger is directed at the wrong person. For those of us who are dedicated spankos, the best antidote at such times is simply to have a good, sturdy implement applied nice and hard to one’s bare butt. It seems to drive the stress out of one’s body, bringing about a return to a feeling of peace and contentment. In other words, it makes one feel closer to fantastic.
“Because she sucked,” Angela responded.
“We’ve had worse,” I opined. “Besides, she was very nice. The late food was more likely the fault of the kitchen rather than the waitress.”
“She still sucked. You just liked her because she was cute.”
“She wasn’t all that cute. Our daughters are way cuter.”
“But I’m not?”
Angela was in a snit. Yes, our waitress was slow an inexperienced. Yes, it took a long time for our food to arrive, even though the restaurant was not really busy. But the food was good and plentiful, and we were not in a hurry. And yet Angela made several impolite comments in a fairly loud voice that, if the waitress didn’t hear, some of the other patrons certainly did. Then Angela gave the poor girl quite a lecture when we were finished, and insisted that I not give her a tip. I tipped her anyway, mainly for putting up with Angela’s grumpiness without reacting.
When Angela gets like this, I must tread carefully. Our relationship is not one where Angela will purposely misbehave, or “brat” as many of you young ladies refer to that type of behavior. Usually, the best thing for me to do is to leave her alone for a bit, and then try to gently ask her what might be really bothering her. Sometimes it will be clear that the pain in her back (actual pain, not husband pain) will be flaring up, causing her to be rather touchy.
But sometimes she just needs a good spanking.
Since this is a spanking blog, and not one dedicated to marital relationships, it should be obvious which option I chose.
I pulled the car into the driveway, but stopped in front of the guest house. “What are you doing,” Angela inquired.
“Let’s go inside,” I responded. “We need to talk.”
When we were inside and I had closed the door behind us, I stated simply, “Go get a hairbrush.”
“I don’t want a spanking now.”
“Yes, but you need one. Go get the hairbrush.” Grumbling, Angela when to retrieve the requested implement.
I sat down on the couch, and Angela returned with the hairbrush, a nice, sturdy, wooden one. Angela may have said that she didn’t want a spanking, but we have several hairbrushes stashed in the guest house and she picked the heaviest one.
I had her drop her pants and told her to position herself over my lap. Still grumpling, she flopped herself down across my knees. I wasted no time in giving her about ten hard swats. Angela hollered and complained.
“Be quiet,” I told her sternly. “You need this and you know it. Now hold still and take this like a man!” That last bit was our little joke.Angela relaxed and I resumed the spanking. I gradually increased the intensity and the rapidity, and I could feel her tense more and more. I paused briefly and rubbed her butt to let her relax a little, and to see how hot I had made her. I determined that her butt could take a little more pounding, so I applied the hairbrush again. She did not tighten up as much this time, so I knew that the paddling was working.
When I stopped, Angela let out a cleansing breath. I rubbed her broiled bottom again. “Thank-you,” she said, simply.
“Your welcome,” I responded. Angela sat up, and we talked and cuddled for a few minutes. After a while, Angela said, “We should get back to the main house to make sure Colette hasn’t burned it down yet.”
“Not yet,” I responded. “We’re not quite done yet. Go get a paddle.”
This time there was no grumbling. Angela scuttled off, and returned with her favorite paddle. I piled the sofa cushions up, and then had her bend over them so as not to put too much pressure on her back. Then I gave her ten good, hard whacks, making her count and thank me for each one. At the conclusion, I rubbed her butt a little more, then she fetched her pants and we returned to the barnhouse.
It sucks getting old. No, it’s not the creakiness that begins to set into the joints. It’s not the minor ailments that come one after another. The hardest part is trying to be nice so often in a world that is filled with assholes. Sometimes the resistance breaks down, and the anger comes pouring out. Too often that anger is directed at the wrong person. For those of us who are dedicated spankos, the best antidote at such times is simply to have a good, sturdy implement applied nice and hard to one’s bare butt. It seems to drive the stress out of one’s body, bringing about a return to a feeling of peace and contentment. In other words, it makes one feel closer to fantastic.
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Oh, how nice it would be to have someone give me some "stress relief".
# posted by 
: February 13, 2008 8:10 PM
: February 13, 2008 8:10 PM
My dearest lee -
I can empathize with you. There have been times when I have had to provide my own stress relief. I used to shave my palms daily.
I have found that physical activity helps relax me. It doesn't have to be a structured workout. I like to work in my yard or on my house. I'm sure there is something that you like to do. Do it, and throw yourself vigorously at it.
I'll stop being "Dear Spanko" now.
Regards,
Frank
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I can empathize with you. There have been times when I have had to provide my own stress relief. I used to shave my palms daily.
I have found that physical activity helps relax me. It doesn't have to be a structured workout. I like to work in my yard or on my house. I'm sure there is something that you like to do. Do it, and throw yourself vigorously at it.
I'll stop being "Dear Spanko" now.
Regards,
Frank
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