Saturday, February 24, 2024

Ask Bonnie: Wishing for Spring Edition

Happy Almost Spring, friends. We've been busy with lots of stuff, so I've been away from the blog. But I'm here now with some reader questions.

Question: When did you first know you have a large bottom?

Bonnie: I guess we'll start with this familiar topic. I don't recall anyone phrasing the question this way before. I think it's an inherent design feature. I always knew. Back in junior high, I learned that boys knew too. Not a happy memory.

Question: Would you sell your paddles/thongs?

Bonnie: That's not business I want to transact. You can order paddles through any quality internet vendor. Thongs are available everywhere.

Question: You say you get spanked because you are bad. What bad things make you so deserving?

Bonnie: I give discourteous answers to questions like this one.

Question: Dear Mrs X – do you have any suggestions how a man can find a lady with the same interests and Pleasures regarding spanking as you do?

Bonnie: You might want to check out local kink groups or online forums.

Question: Do you know anyone in ____ that would be willing to spank me

Bonnie: I’m sorry. I don’t know anyone who lives there. I suggest you seek like-minded people in your area.

Question: you referenced a cane that was more useful for less intensity than a standard school sized cane. Could you point me in the right direction in terms of size? Length, material?

Bonnie: We bought that cane from a store named Cane-iac. They are still in business, but in the process of closing. The cane I described is wooden, fairly light, and about 24 inches long. It is well suited for OTK use.

Question: How can you permit a man to beat your body with a stick?

Bonnie: Yeah. OK. Explanation time. I don’t permit this, we agree in advance. Second, that man is my husband to whom I’ve been married for my entire adult life and with whom I share many wonderful memories, both spanking and otherwise. Third, it’s a spanking not a beating. The focus is my bottom, not my whole body. My spankings happen for a specific purpose. It hurts, but I sustain no lasting damage. Finally, he doesn’t use some random stick he found along the highway. Most often, it’s a paddle that we purchased to deliver spankings. I consent and I am an active participant.

Question: how do i create my own spanking bench

Bonnie: We bought ours, but you can search for "spanking bench" plans or "spanking bench" blueprints. There appear to be several choices. Good luck!

Question: Is spanking a turn-on?

Bonnie: That’s a big 10-4 good buddy

Question: Have you ever had to sign a paddle after you were paddled with it?

Bonnie: Yes, that’s a dynamic we enjoy. I have signed the paddle to memorialize a hard punishment gratefully accepted.

Question: Are you thinking about retiring?

Bonnie: Retiring from what? Spankings: No, Blogging: Who knows?, Work: It’s on the table.

That's it for now. If you want to send me a question, click the Ask Bonnie symbol near the bottom of the right column.

Friday, February 23, 2024

In Search of Heroines

When I was a girl, about sixth grade, I became aware that things were changing. I was suddenly different and the way people treated me was diferent too. As if overnight, my girl body became a woman body. But I wasn't a woman, not even close. It was all hard to understand. My parents were supportive, but I didn't think they understood. I searched for a guidepost, an inspiration. I found one in the most unlikely spot.

Like most kids of my generation, I grew up watching Saturday morning cartoons and munching the sugar cereal they pitched. Amongst the vast wasteland of television (as dubbed by the Chairman of the Federal Communications Commission), I found a character with whom I could identify. She was Penelope Pitstop.

Penelope appeared first in a cartoon show called the Wacky Races and later in her own spin-off show. Penelope was determined and honest and loyal. But she wasn't very bright. She was a cute southern belle who gratefully accepted assistance wherever she could find it and she seemed to need a lot of assistance. Especially from another driver named Peter Perfect. He was as handsome as Penelope was beautiful, but again not too smart.

Why did I connect with this imaginary character with a silly personality? I think it was because she looked like me. I had wide hips and a big butt. So did she. Today, we talk about the importance of representation. We didn't know that word, but that's what she was for me.

What's strange is that I didn't consciously get the connection until years later. I just liked Penelope. I wasn't a driver, or blonde, or Southern, or dopey. But she was the only female driver, so I rooted for her.

Those cartoons were made two generations ago. I doubt anyone involved gave much thought to their effect on girl viewers. But today, we know better, or at least we should.

We have a teenage granddaughter. She is bright, beautiful, clever, and funny. And she has the same shape as her mom and me. She's athletic, healthy, and definitely not overweight. But she got the family blessing/curse.

This sweet girl is barraged with social media messages that define feminine beauty as something she doesn't have and never will. Yet she attracts lots of interest from guys. This conflict causes her great distress. She thinks there must be something wrong with her. If only girls had contemporary role models who could tell them straight - I'm all right and you are too. There are curvy celebrities like JLo or Beyonce, but those women are both older than her mother.

She thinks I don't understand, but maybe I do. I tell her how beautiful she is, but she says I'm supposed to say that. My wish for this amazing young woman is that she comes to accept herself as she is, and in time, loves her mind and her body. She has so much potential. I don't want to meddle, but I wish I could do more.

PS - Randy reminded me that Penelope Pitstop used to get tied up a lot. I guess she did. That probably appealed to me as well.

Sunday, January 21, 2024

A New Year Brings Change

As I’ve described, Randy and I settled into a comfortable routine where we are both mostly working from home. Spankings that once had to be carefully scheduled have become frequent and impromptu. We enjoy this arrangement where at almost any moment I can be invited to flip my skirt or hoist my nightgown for a hearty dose of stinging correction. I can defer, and sometimes I do, but it’s exciting to know that my next paddling might be just around the next bend.

But I get cold. The climate where we live is lovely for part of the year, just not this part. The long billowy skirts I wear are cool and comfortable all summer long. But come the rainy season, they don’t insulate me from the cold.

Back in November, I complained to Randy and he went into problem solver mode. He ordered me three new pairs of jeans. Nice, except they didn’t fit. I could have told him that. So back they went and he sent me on a mission to find those same jeans in a store. I eventually found the appropriate size and brought them home.

This style is notable because there are no back pockets to impede the forceful contact of spanking implements. The color is dark indigo, which to me is the original color of jeans. They fade with time and wear and washings to become soft and comfy.

I wasn’t surprised to learn that my dear husband had plans beyond just protecting me from the cold. Once before, he tried to see if he could create a pair of my jeans where two spots on the seat were far more worn than the rest of the pants. He loves the idea of sending me out into the world with jeans that scream, “I get spanked right here!” But last time, he became impatient. He used drastic measures like sandpaper and bleach. This didn’t create the organic look that he wanted and those jeans were eventually discarded.

The experimentation has begun again. Randy discovered that implements like canes and straps seem to distress the fabric more than the paddles he normally relies upon. I get a layer of fabric to protect my butt from the falling flails, but he has taken the opportunity to turn up the intensity. You needn’t be concerned, dear reader, that I am being deprived of my thorough spankings. I feel the burn.

So far, my legs are warmer and so is my bottom. The jeans are starting to wear in the desired fashion and I’m beginning to think this plan might work. Randy really wants to send me out shopping or to the library sporting distinctive marks both inside and out.

So I guess we’ll see.

Monday, January 15, 2024

Spanko Granny Rap

OK, I hear you. I need to post.

Spanko Granny Rap

Swattin' my tail
Doin’ it right
Blowin’ full gale
Saturday night

Strippin’ me nude
Bendin’ me down
Heat continued
Stings all around

Livin’ the life
Punishment time
A lucky wife
Pay for my crime

Those paddles burn
Right where I sit
Lessons I learn
Finally submit

My soul's alive
My pain is real
Could not contrive
It hurts to heal

Here together
Life in the now
Makin’ it better
Showin’ me how

My correction
New attitude
Our connection
Big gratitude

End the evening
So sore and red
Go with my king
Lead me to bed

Thursday, November 23, 2023

Spanko Bingo Card


Happy Thanksgiving, everyone. Here's some goofy fun. Who will be the lucky winner?

Saturday, November 18, 2023

A Blog About Spanking

During our weekly percussive instruction session, Randy reminded me that MBS is a spanking blog. He thinks I should be writing about my spankings. And he is only too willing to provide any necessary motivation.

So, let’s talk about spankings…

Before Covid, we had settled into a comfortable pattern – Scheduled spankings on Friday evening with occasional extra bottom warmings when the opportunity arrived. We both eagerly awaited Friday and Randy planned various special events for us.

In March 2020, we began working from home. Randy decided we should make some changes. He suggested that I start wearing skirts every day with a thong underneath. I was happy to comply. This was the beginning of our lunchtime paddlings. As part of our lunchtime together, I bend over the back of our couch with skirt lifted and target exposed. We kept a leather paddle in the drawer of a side table in our living room. It was just as accessible as my bare bottom.

This new dimension reawakened our spanking fun. A couple dozen quick pops changes my whole perspective. How great is it to go back to (virtual) work with a warm, stinging butt? I love it.

All was well until the summer of 2022. We managed to avoid Covid, but another health threat shook our world. Randy found himself exhausted by even minor exertion. The problem crept up on him over several months, but he fought through it until July when it affected his ability to work.

He consulted with a doctor, and another, and another. There were lots of tests. The third doctor diagnosed Randy as having a type of blood cancer. We were told it was “mostly treatable” with chemotherapy drugs. His age was a concern, but the fact that he was otherwise healthy gave the doctor cause for optimism.

We endured months of difficult treatment. Through it all, my spankings continued. But things were different. Randy insisted upon doing his part, even when he felt tired or sick or discouraged. He compensated for his physical deficits. When the situation called for a leather paddle, he used a wooden paddle. Wooden paddles were replaced with a Lexan paddle. He joked that I shouldn’t have to suffer because of his illness. He didn’t want me to feel neglected, and I didn’t. I never minded caring for him because I love being his wife and this life we’ve built together.

Even at the lowest point, my dear partner was able to singe my seat by flicking a crop. I recognized his dedication to me and our beloved kink. When the treatment concluded and he began to recover, he revived some of our favorite spanko traditions. For a couple of months, I wasn’t certain whether I could even hope that he was recovering. But he did improve. He became stronger and found more endurance in his daily activities. His hair mostly returned. He went back to work, part time initially. All the while, I fought the urge to rejoice. In the back of my mind was the possibility of a relapse.

I think I accepted that Randy was back on the day he led me downstairs and strapped me to our long-neglected spanking bench for a caning. He lit me up. I was so happy I cried, and that’s something I almost never do in that situation. I savored the resulting sting for the rest of the day and didn’t miss an opportunity to kiss him. I was so grateful to still have my life mate. He wasn’t ever really gone, but that didn’t prevent me from feeling joy at his return.

Our spankings now have a celebratory feel. We always knew this dance cannot last forever, but now we have a lot more insight into how that approaching storm will affect us. Every time I hoist my skirt and bend over the back of the couch, I do so with humble gratitude.

There is one emergency measure that remains in place. Randy replaced the nice warm stinging leather paddle in our side table drawer with an unforgiving wooden model that hurts a lot. It’s still there and used frequently. I’m not about to complain, but ow! (rubbing bottom)

We’ll continue with this new routine for the foreseeable future. Randy mentioned holiday spankings and I can’t wait!