Prior to my awakening, I was married to a woman, who, as it turns out is also gay.
My Experience with Domestic Discipline
My experience started as a child, when I was being a bratty kid, my mom would apply the hairbrush to my butt no matter where I was.
My experience with partner Domestic Discipline started with my now ex-wife, who always had this in mind. Patricia was 6' and 200 lb. when we met. I found her to be big,soft and the best kisser in world. She was a farm kid and always so darn healthy that she just glowed. I am 5'6" and 145 lb.
The first time she tested the waters, I had to stay home, Patricia came over to visit, one of my roomates was hanging out in the room and Pat said she had to take my tempreture, so I opened my mouth for a thermometer, she looked at me and said "uh..no, not there". She asked my roomate to leave the room and she pulled out some kleenex, a rectal thermometer and some Vaseine. She motioned me over and told me to drop my pants, which I did, we had been intimate before and then with her left arm pulled me over he lap, Pat was still dressed for work so she had a skirt and pantyhose on and I could feel my penis sliding across her smooth thighs and beautiful lap. I was very comfortable on her lap and I started to get aroused, which I'm sure didn't escape her. She then put on a pair of medical gloves, prepped my anus and inserted the thermometer. After spending a couple of minutes over her lap, my butt exposed to the cool air, a thermometer in my rectum, she pulled it out and read my temp, declared me not well and told me to stand up. When I stood up she noticed my erection and smiled.
A few more months into dating, we started to live together, I couldn't get the day right without that big, beautiful body next to me, I loved her flannel night gowns and the way she put her long hair up in a bun. It became clear that she was head of household, I would do the dishes and the wash, as a coach I had mornings free.
One day Pat presented me with the coolest looking flannel shorts, she had made them for me, she asked me to try them on, so I did, no underwear underneath, they were so soft, little did I know that she had plans.
One night Pat summoned me to the bedroom and told me to go stand in the corner, I didn't argue. She calmly scolded me for my misdeeds for the week and announced that I was going to get a spanking, my face turned red, I could feel it flush, but I had an erection. She then told me to go to the closet in our bedroom, she had put some hooks on the closet door, each one held a paddle or a strap. She pointed to a paddle and told me to bring it to her. I picked up the paddle from the hook and brought it to her, I was standing by her right side, she was wearing a nice blue night shirt, bare legged and beautiful. I handed her the paddle with both hands, she took the paddle. placed it to her side, yanked my shorts down past my knees with a single tug and said to me "you won't need these". She then pulled me over her lap while scolding me and the spanking began, that heavy leather paddle hitting my cheeks, I was startled after the first couple of spanks, so she used her right leg to lock my legs and made sure her target wasn't going anywhere. I lost count after 100 or so, she had paddled my butt from every angle, switching from cheek to cheek and dead center. I was crying, not fighting and she finally let me up. She then stood up and hugged me.
After all this she announced bed time so I pulled my shorts up and went to bed, Pat knew the job she had done, I was sleeping on my stomach, my ass was a pulsating ball of heat and bruise, she snuggled next to me, occasionally pinching my cheeks to make sure she had done her job. She told me this was the first of many to come.
The routine remained the same, I could tell in her voice when it was spanking time, usually at night, she would summon me to the bedroom and have me stand in the corner while scolding me, she would then direct me to get my punishment implement off one of the hooks on the bedroom closet door. I would then take the implement and present it to her. She, while scolding me, would take place the implement (a paddle most of the time), pull my shorts down with one tug, pull me over her lap and proceed to smack my ass until she was satisfied, by this time I had been trained not to squirm or kick (which would get me a stand up beating on my lower buttocks and thighs and then she would continue), when she was done, she would hug me and pinch me to test my reaction, if I jumped, it meant we were okay to go to bed, if I didn't it meant "touch up". she would pull me back over her lap and keep going until she was sure I was one bruised lump of welts back there. She always believed that a spanking should serve as a reminder for a couple of days. Every time I opened the closet door, I was reminded. Everytime I sat down for the next couple of days, I was reminded.
By that time, the school dept budget had been cut as had my position as Gymnastics coach, so I was a full-time housewife. I would vacuum, dust, do the dishes, the laundry and have everything prepared for my pretty one as she walked through the door, she loved to cook, I just had to make sure everything was ready for her. She used to tell her friends that "my husband does the dishes, I just keep him in line".
Strap night was different, she would summon me to the bedroom, strap in hand, she had prepared the bed with two pillows I had to lay across to make my behind stretch a little and make it an easier target. she would instruct me to take my clothes off and lay over the pillows. Once I complied she would start scolding me and when she could see my behind was twitching she would lay the licks on me. The strap would heat me up and sizzle my butt like crazy. I would never count, it wouldn't do me any good, I would try to turn my mind off until it was over and my butt would feel a big blister. Sometimes she would raise a little blood, wipe it off with a gauze pad and keep going until she was satisfied that I had been punished.
The strap would leave marks for days, I could see them from my butt to the back of my legs, sometimes I would duck into the bathroom and pull down my pants and boxers to admire her work. On those days I couldn't wear shorts. It's weird but I loved the look of those marks and smile when I think of the woman that gave them to me.
She had told all of her friends about how she punished me, although she never spanked me in front of them, my greatest fear would be her friend Paula walking in during a strapping when I was fully naked and posed over a bed with my elevated, very colorful buttocks. Some nights we left the windows open, so I'm sure the neighbors heard me howling and crying, I didn't care, she was my big, beautiful wife. She cared enough to express her disappointment and her desire to make me a better husband.
After 10 years we divorced on amicable terms, she like two of her sisters had developed a preference for female company and I loved her, I just wanted her to be happy, so I let her go. All these years later, the two of them are still together, her little 5'4" partner with the chubby, perky ass. I can look at her and know what she's going through.
This is a summary of my experience with Domestic Discipline. It's the template for which I was trained and grew to love...The events here are pretty much true, names were changed so I won't get my ass kicked. This is how I was socialized and it worked well for many years, every woman brings her own special touches,
As i walk through the halls of school everybody is laughing and starring at me as i go by. They all saw what happened but still continue to laugh.They all know where i am going and why I am going. I am on my way to Mr. Johnson's office again for the 6th time this year. I know I am going to get a paddling and worse a caning if he see's fit. I have had the paddle before and don't want to meet it again but i have not had the cane. I have heard horror stories about it from other students who have received it and I never want to have that think long rod go across my bottom. At the school i go to they believe in not only corporal punishment but they are so old fashioned that they do it with the students bottom bare...I will never understand why they do it on the bore..i guess cause it hurts more and is more embarrassing for the student. They also say that they can tell easily on how well they do and when they need to stop with a bare bottom instead of a clothed bottom. I finally turn the last corner in the hallway and at the end of this hallway the office is on the right. I get more nervous as i get closer and when i get to the last door before they office i feel like my heart dropped into my stomach and my bottom was already hurting when i got to the door. I guess i better go in I thought to myself as i slowly reached for the door knob very nervously. Before i could turn the knob a student walked out with red eyes and tears still falling for he too just got the cane. When he walked by me he whimpered good luck. After he said that i realized it was Aaron my classmate in English and he never cries when he gets in trouble. I thought for a minute and then the secretary saw me and said Miranda come on in. Mr. Johnson is waiting to see you next. I say yes Ma'am and walk in tears already forming in my eyes. She says have a seat and i will let Mr.Johnson know you are here as she picks up the phone and calls his office. while she was on the phone i think to myself this is my only chance to run but before i could get the courage to get up she said Mr Johnson is ready for you. I get up and knock quietly on the door. Mr Johnson answered with his dark voice and say come on in Miranda. I open the door and see Mr.Johnson sitting at his desk and when i get in he says to close the door. I do as I am told because i didn't want to get into anymore trouble then i was in. As i sat down he was going through some papers in a file. Then he looks up at me and asks if i know why i am here today. I said yes sir I am here to be punished for getting into a fight with Amber on of the most popular girls in school. He said that is correct and it will be severe this time because its my third fight this year. He asked me Why can't you stay out of trouble I know you are a better student than this. Your father is going to be very angry with you when you get home isn't he. I looked up surprised because he had already called dad to make sure it was ok to fulfill the punishment he had in store for me. I said very nervously but with a slight bit of attitude in my voice. In my mind i thought how could he call my dad now im not only going to get a paddling here i was going to get another at home now and with dad long leather belt across my bare behind as well.
to be continued
A boy and a girl
Grow up to be friends
Falling in love
He is dominate
He wants to take her in hand
She wants to submit to him
Years later...married still
Many spankings given
Erotic and discipline
Pleasure and pain
Grounded, corner time, lines
As many punishments he could find
Invitation to Club Shadow
Invite only...fees waved
Never tried before
Going to see...
Masters and Sirs rule there
Submissives obey or face pain
She's wearing no clothes
He's dressed head to toe
She's led to a bench
Spanked hard by him
Using a cane/whip...
Tears fall heavily
Striped and welted
First time ever
He's so hard...
Sucks him dry
Unable to move...
Forced to comply
Filled with pain
They drift a part
A dream for some
Nightmare to other's
Like a White Oleander
Like Arsenic unseen
Death is near...
Poison to them
Every night he returns
Obeying his every word
Disciplining when he pleases
Destroying his marriage
All that matters
Alone at home she cries
Her life/her love/ gone
Without him by her side
Unable to survive
Takes a razor blade
Slits her wrists
Slowly she dies
Violent and cruel
No longer Coping
Fulfilled no more
Takes a gun
A bullet in his head
He dies fast
Unlike his wife
She died slow
Like a narrator
in a story...
How lucky I am
Nothing like him
Even punishing me
It's with love
Puts me first
While having sex
With a woman...
Her taste on my lips
My fingers explore
Fast and hard
All over my tongue
My fingers playing
She's shaking too
Master says my turn
69 my favorite #
His taste ambrosia
In my mouth
Begging for release
Master said now
We come to play
Never seen again
He kept playing
Wanted me as well
Master said no
Saved from him
Moral of this story
The Devil's playground
Just like the
Enter at your own risk
Never leave the same again
Still want to play
Jealous of me?
I took my girl to a Disciplinarian to learn the disciplinarian part of a Spencer Spanking Plan Marriage. And have the marks to show for it in new videos. My girl made a video to thank her, P.S. ed the video.
intro - more noir fiction
He held the Ruger .380 in his hand and considered the weight. It was light, much lighter than the Glock 9mm. It was an old frame Glock, definitely bigger, and heavier, a real attention getter. He traded the Glock on the street for the Ruger, the Glock having spent most of it's existence in the lap drawer of his desk. The Ruger was a pocket piece, perfect for a concealed carry, if you were inclined that way. He tucked the .380 in his waistband and headed out the door. They will always tell you it's about the money. Sometimes it is, sometimes it's not. Money is transient, you either have it or you don't. Now a memory, a memory is something that will last you a lifetime.
(to be continued)
Sassy twisted and pulled, her legs held far above her. Mr. Stern's fingers entered her from the front and rear. His other hand tantalized her clitoris, which was held captive by the metal clip. She closed her eyes, lost in the sensation of being full and empty, full and empty. The pushing and pulling of her insides was wonderful, and her pelvis began to push towards the thrust, but the swaying rope, left her helpless.
Her muscles clenched inside, wanting to keep him inside of her, desiring more of him. They pulled at his digets, wanting him deeper, longer, harder. The teasing of her button, drove her nearly crazy, as she pushed herself towards his touch, she swayed back from it. It was maddening! Finally, just a few quick strokes on that hard hot spot, sent her into oblivion....she rode a rollercoaster of climaxes... sweating, and panting, gasping and moaning. She rose and fell, with a chaotic pulsing of heat and pleasure. His thumb and pointer rammed into her bum and vagina. It was, nearly, a religious moment. Nothing had ever made her feel that way. This was as close as anyone could come to heaven!!
Mr. Stern was a wizard, spinning a magical kingdom of sensation. He loved the response of her young body as he guided her to higher ground, step by step. He masterfully played her tender places, making them hum, then vibrate and finally sing a crescendo of ecstasy.
His penis was fully erect. The blood had filled it, and its tip was wet with drool, longing to dive into the wet, warm pool.
Sassy, so short of breath, gasped and begged. "Please, don't stop, please, I want more, MORE, OH MY GOD,
He moistened a firm, rubber toy with oil. Never slowing his rhythm, he withdrew his finger and thrusted the wet plug far into her rectum. He held the flap at its base to keep pushing and pulling at her.
He took a small vibrator and touched it, not to her clit, but to the metal of the clip that embraced it. The electrical buzz carried up and around her button. He applied it and pulled it away, all the time reaming her behind. She was climbing again. He buzzed her a few more times - On and off, on and off.
He took some nipple clips from his table, pinched her nipples, and pulled them, to secure the pinchers to the erect pink points.
"Oh, Oh, ahhhhhh" moans and "MMMMmmm's" uttered in a deep throaty voice.
Mr. Stern applied the vibrator to the metal clip, again and again, as he opened his pants. His erection was massive, veins throbbing with blood. BUZZ, BUZZ, BUZZ.
HE pulled off the cltty clip and entered her to his root. He Grabbed her swinging hips and pulled her onto him.
Sassy was pulled up, up, up. He slapped against her sore bottom, adding pain into the mix. Moaning turned to music...A rising voice as he filled her, at last. She longed to wrap her legs around him. claw at his back and ride him hard and rough, but she could do nothing more than cum, and cum again. He played with her, as he wanted. She submitted and was conquered, body and soul. He was her MASTER and she would never be the same..
Let me tell you a bit more about myself. I’m not a sadist or an “impact player”. I am all about the fantasy head space. I love the build up with a submissive woman who I can send to fetch my hairbrush. As she stands in front of me holding it, I would scold her about her misbehavior and tell her why she's getting a sound spanking in a stern, even toned voice. Do you love the thrill of anticipation? I’ll continue my lecture after I've pulled you over my knee. Telling you what a bad girl you’ve been as I pat your panty-clad bottom and occasionally letting my fingers trace the creases of your vagina through your underwear, as you lay motionless across my lap. Increasing the excitement you feel as each layer is soon to lifted or pulled down, exposing your pink, warm bottom. If you kick or cries while promising to be good, so much the better. My aftercare ritual involves applying some pre-refrigerated Pond's cold cream to her hot, burning bottom while she is still over my lap. I speak softly to her now. Telling her how proud I am of her that she took her punishment so well. My favorite implements tend to be traditional ones like the wooden hairbrush, belt and cane.
Janie was seated on her Uncle's desk, nightgown gathered around her waist. Her purple flowered panties were below her knees. Her very red and strapped bottom was sitting directly on the big mahogany desk. She was still sobbing.
It was Dylan's turn. She felt scared for him.
"Over here, right now, Dylan. Pants down. Hands on the stool. Bottom out, knees flexed."
He lowered his pants, blushing, as Janie was sitting so close. It was humiliating!! His well formed buttocks were well marked, from the switch...and still very red! His Father was ruthless with that switch.
Uncle James didn't waste any time with Dylan. No oil, no rub. As soon as Dylan was in position, the strap flew. Janie knew James was hitting him harder than her. The noise it made was so loud, like lightening!
James strapped his smooth thighs, and moved up and down each muscular butt cheek. Dylan stayed quiet with the exception of a grunt, as his Father burned roadways into the landscape of his young and beautiful , round and tight behind.
Dylan, clenched his jaw and his ass, willing himself not to cry. He deserved this, not so much because what he'd done was so bad, but because he had gotten Janie into so much trouble. He could still her crying as the strap snapped again and again at his bottom. He silently counted the whacks. Ten, then twenty....his legs trembled, heat and pain spread from his tailbone to his knees. Thirty, a tear fell quietly down his face....and it was done.
"Sit on the stool"! his Father said.
Impossibly, the pain doubled and his face twisted, as his bare behind made contact with the chair. His jaw was set. His face taught with pain, but no more tears fell. He was strong, his Father would not break him.
James studied his face. He saw defiance. He was almost a man now. It wouldn't be long, before he would stand his own ground. He loved his son and he was proud of him. Proud of the way he took his punishment and proud that he had tried to shield Janie. At that moment, he decided to give him that.
"Now, both of you will be paddled ten times. This paddle packs a wallop, so don't think you're getting off easy. Dylan, as I know you feel badly about leading Janie astray, I'll give you the option of taking half of hers."
"No, Dylan!", said Janie. "You've already gotten the worst of it. I knew better and I deserve it. I've been making bad decisions, lately and then finding a reason to justify them, but in the end, it was me who did it and me, who should be punished for it."
Dylan said, "Yes, Dad, I want you to give them to me. I'd take them all, if you'd let me. It's always my job to protect her. I took her with me, knowing she would go along. I'd shield her from any harm, I could, and I'll never fail her again."
James paused, his anger waning. "Although I'm disappointed in you both, I do think you've learned something from today's experience. I'm proud of you Dylan, for acknowledging your error in judgement and for trying to help your cousin.
Janie, you have been taking alot of bad turns and I'm glad you aren't making excuses for them. You are both growing up. I know you think that David and I are hard in you. But, in life, an error in judgement can alter your whole future. You broke the law, drinking. Should you do so again, the consequences may be far reaching. In those moments, you'll wish for the days, when getting a whipping would make it go away. I have given Dylan the option, Janie, so I'll allow him to take 5 of your swats, but you'll watch him go first. Because he is doing this for you, out of his love for you and his sense of responsibility."
"Dylan, I want you to face my desk. Put your hands on the edge and take a step back. Spread your legs to brace yourself, firmly."
Dylan, rose, wincing. His skin tugged as it adhered to the stool. He felt the heat and pain with every movement. James lifted Janie down & motioned her to the stool. Her bottom hurt so!! Tears still streamed down her face. Although she felt bad, she was relieved to have only five smacks, of the paddle, ahead.
Dylan, now in position, awaited his Father's swing. He'd been hit with that paddle before and knew it would be bad.
In his Dad's strong hand, it would be like a weapon. His lean, muscular legs and cheeks were ravaged, red with cruel thin and thick welts. A few spots had drawn blood. His Dad did spread some oil on him. Even this act of kindness caused him pain.
"Prepare yourself, Dylan. I'm going to begin. I'll count them for you. You may ask for a moment, if you need it, during the paddling by saying, "wait". Otherwise, I will deliver all 15, in a row, one after the other. Do not move around, if the paddle forces you to move, return to position, immediately. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Sir. I'm ready Sir." ...Thinking as I'll ever be. He braced himself and the first swat was hard and upward enough, to lift his feet, to his toes, and nearly off the floor. At first he felt nothing but the impact... the pressure. The second smack arrived, as the first reached his nervous center and the pain washed over him. "Umph" - groans escaped as the third hit and his knees shook. Maybe because he could feel no more, but the pain peaked and hovered and the blows continued. The tenth one was hard enough that his knees folded a bit.
"You may put your elbows on the desk, Dylan", his Father said.
He was grateful to have the support of his arms through the final five. He was weak from the beating, and stood on unsteady legs.
"You may pull up your pants and go to your room. "
"Thank you, Sir.", He stumbled as his Dad caught him, hugged him, and whispered, "You're a fine young man. I'm proud of you." That was enough to bring the tears to his eyes, that he'd held back.
"I'm sorry, Dad. I love you.", he glanced at Janie, and said ,"You too", as he left the office.
She was alone with her Uncle now. He held out his arms, and she fell into them, sobbing. I'm so sorry, Uncle James!"
"I know, Princess, you're almost done"
He kissed her forehead. Somewhere, he had pity on the pretty little girl, who was his favorite niece. He sat on the stool and pulled her across his lap. Her bottom was scarlet. He didn't think she'd hold up to the full swing of the paddle, so he'd decided to put her across his knee. He put her legs between his own. He took her slender hand in his, holding it against her back.
He whacked her bottom good and hard. She cried out loud, promising to be good.
He didn't pause. He smacked the wood again at the sit spots and upper thighs.
"Oh, Oh, please! PLEASE!!!"
He hit both cheeks low and firmly. She wailed in despair. He hit her thighs, not quite as hard, she screamed out. One final VERY HARD WHACK center. She was crying full force now. "I want my Daddy", sobbing and gulping air, as he righted her.
He did comfort her, she seemed suddenly small in his arms. He understood why his brother coddled her.
He pulled her away from his chest, and looked into her big blue eyes,wet with tears. "It's all over now, baby". He stood with her, still in his big arms. She was small for her age. He carried her up the stairs and put her onto the bed, on her tummy. He put some lotion on her bottom, gently. He pulled up the blankets and said goodnight.
He went back to his office. He still had work to do. The evening had taken its toll on him, as well. It would be a long night...And he would still have to tell David. That was not a conversation he looked forward to
****This character addition is a trial...
Should I include him in future episodes?
Comment, message or post to my wall. Ty
I am still not sitting too comfortably after visiting with Sir last Sunday. Many things were discussed and I was put right on a few issues. I spent sometime over his knee listening to the 'Correct and proper way a Young Lady should behave....' He punctuated his little speech with slaps to my bottom. Of course I didn't help my situation by wearing jeans;what can I say,I was going to a party afterwards,LOL!
On a less painful note I am back motoring but not in the Astra,instead I got myself a Ford Fiesta,really comfortable,and a great sound system!!! Wonder how long will it take to get the bruising on my bottom down!
I listened as footsteps approached the study door, and then a knock.
"Stay in position" I was told, and then "Yes, what is it?"
"Sir" said my newly acquainted lady friend "a parcel has arrived for you that requires your signature sir"
my heart skipped a beat as he replied "Enter then if you must."
With that the door opened, and, as luck and good fortune would have it, the seat of my briefs were in an optimum viewing position for the young lady as she entered the study. The postal matron was standing in the doorway to the study, awaiting the signature so that she could release the package. She had quite an amused look on her face as well as she quickly summed up the situation and realized she had arrived at the most opportune moment as a proper spanking was most obviously in progress. Given my history of disciplinings at the hands of Aunt Sophie, I was quite familiar with having women view me in my underpants for spankings. It was as wonderfully thrilling now as I remembered it being back in the day.
There was an exchange of signature for package with the clipboard having been laid on my back to collect what was required. All the while, I felt the postal matron's eyes moving all over my upturned bottom and took note of the look of glee readily apparent on her face, which seemed quite flushed with color. I could feel my own face glowing bright red with the embarrassment of spanking shame and underpants humiliation, and, at having two women present who were obviously enjoying my predicament. Furthering my embarrassment was the feeling of my hardness growing to a point where I thought I would burst right through the front my snug fitting briefs.
The postal Matron took one last long look and started to turn to leave, thought better of it, and then spoke.
"Sir, if I may?"
"yes, what is it?"
"It's not my place to say, but I do believe a good old fashioned spanking does a world of good now and then. This one seems to have a bit of cheek to him. I think the paddle or strap would serve this one much better, and with the underpants down as well I would think."
With that she turned and left. Great, I was thinking, I now have the British postal service fully endorsing my spankings. Having been American born and raised but now living in London, I was madly in love with the quirks of language and culture of this county, as well as the English penchant for proper spankings.
(to be contiuned)
My best friend sent this to me and I laughed so hard I was crying, so I thought I would share it.
Merry Christmas A little early I know, but I have so many happy beautiful friends, I thought I'd get the ugly fuckers out of the way first. After careful consideration of your performance in 2016, I have decided to extend our friendship for another 12 months. A little Christmas message for you. Not every flower can say love, but a rose can. Not every plant survives a thirst, but a cactus can. Not every retard can read, but look at you go, little buddy! Today you should take a moment and send an encouraging message to a fucked up friend, just as I have done. I don't care if you lick windows, or fuck farm animals. You hang in there cupcake, because you're fucking special to me, and you're my friend. Look at you smiling at your monitor, you crayon eating mother fucker! Merry Christmas..❤️❤️
Enjoy all my SpankingTUBE friends
The following story may – or may not be true. No offence is intended towards fanatics of any persuasion and any allusion to real people living or dead is to be viewed with some scepticizm.
Allow me to set the scene :
All of this happened a very long time ago (and some cynics go as far as allege that it did not happen at all.) I shall merely relate the story and allow the readers to judge for themselves.
The year is 1BC, and the events take place in a little town called Bethlehem in the land of Judea, which for those dudes amongst you who failed fifth grade geography is in the Middle East – which for those of you who don’t know any geography at all is a very long way away – unless you happen to live in modern Israel.
Now Judea at this time is ruled by the Romans, whose commander-in-chief - Caesar Augustus is, according to contemporary accounts, something of a shit-bag who likes nothing better than to shaft the peasants for as much cash as he can and feed them to the lions if they don’t cough up!
As if that were not bad enough, Caesar Gus has a stooge in Jerusalem who goes by the name “Herod the Great” who, as well as taking his slice of the extortion proceeds, also slaughters babies, whom he suspects will grow up to overthrow him.
So all in all – there is a shedload of shit flying about and the people are more than a bit pissed off. They are pinning their hopes on some Messiah guy whom (it is foretold) is going to turn up one day, kick the Romans out and restore their freedom – but so far he is a no-show and things are getting desperate.
Anyway, one day Caesar ’Gus has a brainwave decreeing that the whole world is going to be taxed, which is major bad news because nobody has any tax cash left. Even worse – Gus says that everybody has to go back to their place of birth in order to register on the premise that the accounts records can be brought up to date.
Therefore, not only has nobody got enough mazoola left to bet on the camel races, but they have had to max-out their credit cards on travel expenses. And guess who owns all the transport in the Roman Empire – yup – you got it! So to say that “chaos reigns” is something of an understatement.
Against this background of privation and discontent, enter a simpleton carpenter from Nazareth called Jo-Jo and his wife Sherry, who is seriously up the duff. He is wandering around trying to convince anyone who will listen that the little lady is a virgin. He doesn’t seem to have grasped the fact that just because HE hasn’t managed to do “it” yet, and just because Sherry has been unable to identify the prospective father, the two factors are not necessarily reconcilable. The Act of God which she claims to be responsible for her condition, might not necessarily tell the full story.
(Indeed - it is rumoured that many of the free spirited citizens of Nazareth may have dipped their pitcher in the well so to speak, but in order to avoid costly libel suits, that part of the story has been conveniently edited out.)
But back to our story.
After a long and arduous journey through the desert, our two intrepid heroes finally hit Bethlehem on the 24th December, and the place is like heaving. Jo-Jo has sore feet on account he has walked there from Nazareth –Sherry is riding on a tiny donkey which is straining under the weight and looking most unhappy. They wander around all the third-rate hotels and doss houses trying to find a bed for the night but without success.
Finally, about to give up and sell his wife to the slave-traders, Jo-Jo trudges up to one last run-down gaff on the edge of town and bangs wearily on the door. A moment later the door opens and a harassed-looking innkeeper appears in the aperture.
“Yes?” he says gruffly, eying the new arrival up and down with some disdain. “What the fuck do you want?”
“We were hoping you had a room?” stuttered Jo-Jo hopefully. “For me and the missus – the donkey can stay outside. She’s a virgin you know – my missus; not the donkey!” He recoils as the innkeeper collapses with laughter and rolls about uncontrollably for about ten minutes until he regains a semblance of self-control.
At length, the innkeeper regains enough composure to be able to speak.
“A ROOM?” he bellows. “You gotta be joking Sunbeam – it’s fucking Christmas! You wouldn’t even get a bed in the leper colony. I got visitors sleeping on the floor and on the roof – even in the toilets. I got enough trouble already without letting you in.
“There are Muslims and Jews who can’t agree on anything except they don’t want pork sausages for breakfast. They are collectively on course to drink the bar dry by ten o’clock and there have been three major fights already! You should have booked in advance pal. You can’t just turn up willy-nilly and expect accommodation on tap. We aren’t living in the Stone Age now you know?”
He pauses for breath and notices that Jo-Jo is weeping – the tears are rolling down his cheeks and plopping into the dust at his feet. For some reason he starts to feel sorry for Jo-Jo and offers him a grubby handkerchief.
“Look Son,” he says sympathetically. “I tell you what I will do. You can crash out in my stable. You can make a bed out of straw and drink as much water as you like. It will be three shekels a night and if you shag the goats it will be five extra. What do you say?”
“Oh God bless you Gov!” sobs Jo-Jo. “You are a veritable saint Sir!” He drops to the floor and begins kissing the embarrassed-looking innkeeper’s feet. “I won’t need the goats thank you – I have brought my own comfort.” He points to the sad looking donkey which rolls its eyes despairingly.
“Yes,yes – if you say so.” growled the innkeeper, trying to shake his leg free. “Now give me the cash and fuck off around the back. I am very busy and that donkey stinks!”
So Jo-Jo pays the man; they go into the stable and make themselves comfortable. More specifically it is Jo-Jo who does the hard work because Sherry is busy moaning and groaning about how useless he is as a husband – which, upon reflection, is pretty much par for the course in most marriages – correct?
Jo-Jo just gets on with it muttering under his breath and fantasising about taking a whippy cane to Sherry’s fat arse, if only he could summon up the courage.
Suddenly - A great big star appears overhead bathing the stable in light.
World History is about to take on a new direction.
My usual morning spanking was going painfully well, though i was unaware my bottom was moving away from Master.
'Keep that bottom central and still." He ordered.
I moved back to the centre of the chair. Kneeling on the seat, gripping the back of the chair, dressing gown and nightie scrunched up in my hands to leave my bottom free for the dreaded Little Devil Paddle.
As he continued, again i was unaware i had moved.
"I said dont move" Master calmly but very firmly ordered once more.
But hed told me twice, thats a rule breaker. So placing his other hand on the small of my back he proceeded to wallop and wallop my ass with as much force as he could muster. The frustrating part is he often enjoys focusing on that one bruised cheek, making the pain so much harder to take. I bit into my dressing gown and screamed into it, as he continued. I know i got more than my usual 30 swats.
Once over it took me a few seconds to compose myself enough to stand up, as Master was waiting for his kiss and his thank you for my morning spanking.
Sitting on my cold wooden stool for contemplation time i knew my bottom was badly bruised and bleeding and saw the blood marks on the seat once i was allowed to stand up. Using a baby wipe i cleaned my bottom then my stool, feeling the traces of blisters and popped blisters leaving my bottom extremely tender to touch and even worse to sit down. But Master enjoyed my morning paddling, starting the day by thrashing my ass wakes him ready for the day ahead. Wish it had the same affect on me. Lol.