Personally I feel that no matter how strong the physical attraction, sex without an emotional connection has always left me disappointed. One night stands and other brief liaisons may be to fine for other men, I just want more. Having more invested in a relationship has always resulted in better sex for me and I expect for my partners as well.

It is true that I am a spankophile, but in a perfect world, steamy spankings would lead to even steamier sex. Sex and spanking just belong together. I have read comments by women trying unsuccessfully to get their men to spank them, what is wrong with those guys. Ignoring the fact that this is a simple request to make, I mean it’s not housecleaning or doing the dishes, although if that’s what makes her happy, why would you resist.

Why do I love spanking her behind? My right hand slapping away, my left free to wander around, I really don’t think I want to know. If I make her weak kneed and light headed, face and body flushed, the result is that I get very excited. Spanking her leaves me in a similar state to hers, and that result is important. I remember one evening when my companion was very tired; after we had played she had to sleep. I was not ready to sleep yet. I was still excited and got off just by admiring my handiwork, and resting my hand on her very warm cheeks. She smiled at me drowsily and we both went to sleep.

CS

I was watching this movie called When in Rome. Kristen Bell is a bridesmaid and she wore this silky blue dress, I wasn’t sure if was a real dress or special effects, it literally flowed with her. She spent most of the movie running away from the camera, a view I enjoyed.

 Don’t get wrong, I am a very tactile person, touching, rubbing, and kissing all of a woman’s body from head to toes brings me great pleasure. I believe I give a terrific body massage, just because I may linger on the bottom, no other body part is neglected.

I have often wondered if women are as attracted to mens behinds, or do they admire other women fannies more. In general is it less important to them, a guys best attributes being interesting but nothing more than that. This is a generalization I know and different women have different priorities. My question was addressed to those women who are visually stimulated. I just read an additional post I must quote here “It’s not the shape of a man’s ass, but whether or not he is one”.

Male nudity is unusual in mainstream cinema, but when an actor strips I will check out the competition. I can admire a muscular butt on a guy, but I think that envy may be a large part of that. My ass should look more like that.

CS

I came back to the net during some much needed down time and I was amazed at the number of spanking blogs. The quality of the writing, and the images that resonate in my imagination, from encyclopedic to poetic, so many that I am still finding new ones every day.

The Pink Report captivated me and has kept my attention. A post from several days ago has been bouncing around in my head; my mind keeps being drawn to the premise. http://thepinkreport.wordpress.com/2011/01/11/calling-liz-to-the-carpet/ if you wish to see for yourself.

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Of course everything is relative, a musician friend of mine often goes to Japan for work. She is not really that tall but I have seen photos of her on the streets of Osaka, and there she is head and shoulders above the crowd. I believe that she is often approached by Japanese men wishing to sit in her lap.

CS

Completely fed up with renting and landlords, sometime when I was in my twenties, I bought a house. It was not in the high rent district, most of the neighborhood was Hispanic, a good starter place. Fixer-upper I believe it was called. It had three bedrooms, one bath, one car garage, kitchen, dining room, and a living room. There was even a nice big yard more than enough room for a single man. One problem since it was on the other side of the tracks the place was broken into frequently. Not like today, no home invasions, I was never present, but my things would vanish.

This was a quiet neighborhood for the most part. I swear one night a police pursuit ended on that block and there were cop cars all over the place. One season a screech owl started a family in my neighbors palm tree. These guys look really cute but from dusk to dawn this thing made the most annoying sounds. This bird was nesting right outside my bedroom. I was so relieved when the baby owls were old enough to move on.

 Owl Noises

Some time during this these guys across the street started a band. They would practice during the evenings, on some days I thought I would go completely bonkers if they played “whiter shade of pale” even one more time. One evening, owls hooting, band playing badly I was sitting in my once quiet living room miserably contemplating the night ahead. I really needed a diversion.

I was sitting there thinking, if this much sound comes into my place, just what kinds of noises make it to the street. I was already aware how poorly insulated apartments could be. It was time for an experiment. Armed with my trusty tape deck on my stereo, I ran an audio cable out to the fence and setup a microphone. Listening through headphones I could hear the wind blowing over the mike in addition to the other sounds.

Up until then I always thought I was the quiet neighbor, no late night parties, I never brought home mariachi bands or did anything unusual. I was using a Jokari paddle, a wooden thing designed for some game. This toy was not child’s play. It had a rubber grip and it packed quite a wallop.

 

I starting the recording and began using the paddle on my butt, all in the name of science, of course. After using it for a while, I wanted to get a sample of sufficient length; I pulled up my pants and rewound the tape. The sounds were loud, very loud. You could clearly hear the smack of the paddle over all the other noises. I can not imagine to this day just what my neighbors thought when sounds like these came from my house. It’s not as if you could mistake it for carpentry or some other DIY project. In all the time I lived there I was then acutely aware of just how “quiet” a neighbor I had been.

Today I do not have to be concerned about this at all. I live in the hills and I can barely hear my current neighbor’s electric guitar, and only if I am outdoors at that. Just fair warning you may be sharing more than you think when you play. I think somewhere I still have that tape, If there is any interest I will post the audio.

CS

 This may seem to be one of those sayings that apply to so many facets of life. Personally I hate pain. Rather than suffer even minor pain I would rather take pain meds. Some people will not do this and would rather suffer, I just don’t get it. Why in the world would you rather be in pain, to keep your head clear, well obviously in my case this is totally irrelevant! It makes you sleepy, well if you are injured or sick maybe you should be sleeping. The side effects are too bad, worse than being able to move at all! You will be an addict, sorry but most people in pain do not become dependant; they only use the medications until they are no longer necessary.

I would rather walk away from a fight, or even run if that’s required. I actually tried to walk away from a mugging and got shot for my trouble, my failure to acknowledge the guy with the gun. The last thing I would want to do is actually hurt anyone, or be responsible for injuring anyone. I hope to be sensitive enough, and in tune to my partners needs that I won’t exceed her limits, well not by much.

I have this toy. It’s a small lollipop style paddle made of exotic hardwood. It’s not too impressive, being about 12” long with a 4” round at the business end. One evening I was due for correction, yeah I earned it, damned straight I earned it! I reported to the bedroom dressed only in a pair of sweat styled shorts. Sometimes I am a bad boy.

“Pain don’t hurt” (Patrick Swayze – Road House), in some settings I would agree completely, then again unless the situation and circumstances are just right. Being a complete wuss, it does not take much to exceed my personal limits, but when everything is right, forget about limits; they no longer exist. I can personally only speak to my own experiences not those of my victims, ah partners, where the line dividing pain from pleasure can be found.

Fortified with a couple of glasses of chardonnay, I arranged myself over the proffered lap and waited nervously. Wasting no time my partner peppered my butt with a flurry of smacks. Since I was covered, the impacts were muffled and resulted in a very warm glow.  Suddenly she pulled my shorts down, and I was lying there ridiculously bare assed and waiting.

Interlude – Listening to Men of a certain age – I just heard Scott Bakula say that “spanking is still allowed in my bedroom” talk about distracting.

The paddle smacked down and on bare skin the results were astonishing. As the smacks landed, all on target by the way, I remember handfuls of bedclothes clenched in tightened fists, my toes curled impossibly tight, and my pulse pounding in my head. I was definitely uncomfortable but there was no place I would rather be. The beating continued and her scent filled my nostrils, she was relentless and unsympathetic to my suffering.

She kept whacking away and with my eyes closed I seem to remember bright sparks behind my eyelids, in time with her blows. Panting and gasping, I refused to cry out. She never said this will hurt me more than you, but she was flushed and breathing very hard. The smacks starting coming slower and slower, her anger spent, she was running out of steam.

She let me up, I crawled off her lap, and I grabbed my ass. I did not feel blisters but I was sure that my ass had taken on a leathery feeling. I had to see, hurrying to the bathroom I checked out the damage in the mirror, and was suitably impressed with the round impressions of the paddle on my bottom. I returned to the bedroom and joined her in bed. We were both worn out and napped. We woke up and I apologized for my behavior, was forgiven and well you know the rest.

This was very intense for me. Would I repeat the experience…please! Now things are slow and I hope that I will find someone soon.

CS

Why Cranky? I originally considered Mawkish Paddler, yeah that fits too, but when I went and checked my FaceBook page I have been irritated non-stop since I signed up. Trying to lead a happy life can be, well, trying. Even when things are going well, something goes haywire. Don’t get me wrong, I have led a charmed life. Ask anyone who really knows about me and they will tell you if I were a cat I would have exhausted all nine lives long ago.  For example:

After Oops I went back to New York, to commiserate. My buddy had to go to a “business” dinner and he suggested that I tag along. Everything was going well until we started drinking. I was a teetotaler and the beverage was ice cold vodka by the glassful, big mistake. I vaguely remember watering someone’s planter in Manhattan and being ably assisted to my friend’s apartment, I think he had to grab me by the scruff of the neck and guide. I was thoroughly sick and messed up my clothes. He told me to take off my clothing, I still was aware enough to complain “but then I’d be naked!” He got me settled on a vomit resistant mat on the floor, for which I was grateful, for by this time the entire room had a tendency to spin.

The next morning I was still drunk and heaving, a friend of my buddy’s stopped by and came into the apartment. I was being introduced before I knew what was going on, so I gamely got to my feet and extended a puke moistened hand. This woman did not even flinch; she looked me over and took my hand. “It’s nice to meet you” she said and I was pleased and lay down again. Meet cute, maybe not.

A couple of days later I was told that the mystery woman was interested in seeing me socially. I was stunned. We got together and I had to ask why she would possibly want to see me considering the way we met. You were introduced to a naked drunk dude; she told she thought I was drunk and disorderly.  Grateful for her intelligent companionship I saw her several times.

In a borrowed apartment we got together and having learned my lesson, asked if she might enjoy being spanked. She said OK and sprawled across my lap. I looked down at her beautiful bottom and wondered how her dark skin would respond to being slapped. I was being very careful. I did not want to upset this lady and was only looking for mutual pleasure and enjoyment. I raised my hand trying to fully savor the moment.

This was a New York apartment, walls and floors very thin. I admit it pretty late but this was important. My vital fantasy was going to come true. At this critical juncture, the fellow in the apartment below started banging on his ceiling, and screaming and yelling. He had to get up early and we were making too much noise, etc. Talk about a mood destroyer, we meekly went to sleep. The next morning, bright and early, the same gentleman spent several minutes banging on the door to display his unhappiness. We did our best to ignore him. That was the last time we ever saw each other.   

Now you know what makes me cranky. Does this tale have moral. Don’t even think about borrowing an apartment in Manhattan, or maybe early to be and early to rise, but most like strike while the iron is hot.

CS

A spanking is a spanking, any tool will do. I don’t think so. There are quite a few toys that I have wondered and had fantasies about, wielding and feeling the effects. I had been beaten with plastic tubing as a boy, and it was a completely overwhelming experience. I have to admit though as frightening as the event was, I was very impressed with the stripes that were left behind checking them out in the bathroom mirror.

If you want something done right, you have to do it yourself. There have been times in the past when I was alone, without anyone to spank or even to do the spanking, the only thing left to do beside use my imagination was to spank myself. Lately I have seen more and more videos of people doing just that. It’s difficult enough to stay still for a hard spanking, but to slap or paddle my own behind is very difficult.

I think that my absolute favorite moment in Star Trek (yeah I am one of those) occurred in the short lived Enterprise. Trip and Malcolm were stranded in a shuttle and drinking. Malcolm says that Topol has a nice bum and they toast to it. 

 

I recently came across this snapshot that captures a pretty fanny in a domestic setting that really got to me. There is something about this particular photo that really appeals to me on many levels.

 

Years ago there was a magazine called Avant-Garde. One issue had a incredible series of pictures taken in extremely public places. The model the used was very attractive and she had developed this technique. She could sweep up her skirt and bend over, the result was all that all you could see was a very pretty butt and a nice pair of legs, that was all. The photographer took quite a few of these pictures and the results were stunning. Avant-Garde indeed, as you may have guessed this particular magazine had a tremendous impact on me, I blame it completely! I was young and impressionable.

Incredible n’est-ce pas.

CS

PS I just saw this movie A single man and I wanted to include this screen capture, but I got distracted.

Nicholas Hoult all grown up.