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For Openers

Panties Headed South

That’s what happens to me when there is a bare bottom around. This is Stan and Daria – 1991

Dallas Does His Thing

The Third Lick Got Her Attention

I know lets get a room, you take a paddle, I will get on all fours and you paddle my bottom.

That’s all folks

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I got home from the hospital yesterday afternoon after five days of antibiotics. I am on oxygen. Yeah, both a potable tank and a generator. I have pneumonia with a splash of Covid. I will be taking antibiotics orally for next week.

My already impaired balance is worse. More PT may help. You would laugh at me doing the drunk walk. [Which my PT says to never to do a field sobriety test]

Covid is no joke.  I have not been out much to be exposed, but Bacall has been around two that were infected.

Have to say the nurses were all cheerful. That really helped.

And thanks for all the Good Wishes.

I will try to push a few images on the page. How about a few FM images this morning?

When I first saw this one,I thought she was unbuckling a guys pants. Reaching around with practiced fingers and undoing my belt is hot for me.

Another time, another belt. [The rare time I post a captioned image]

Fetish wear is turn-off for me, but look at her eyes.

For wooden spoon lovers

She looks mad. A snarl. I could do without that.

I like the pastel colors in this one. It reminds me of the condo decor of that Alabama Gulf Coast of the 90’s.

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Many thanks for the several dozen Get Well notes. I would like to acknowledge all, but that is not in the cards.
One loyal reader sent a note along with the photo. Bacall being female locked onto her Swede shoes matching her hose.
Sorry the ‘f*ckin leukemia’ is being a jerk again. Hopefully that will subside soon and your energy will return to more enjoyable levels.
Until then, since you’re spending all that time in bed anyways? Thought I’d send you some extra company to spend it with… enjoy.
It turned out the Leukemia is not the cause. In fact my blood counts have improved for the third month without treatment. But I am getting ahead of the story.
While waiting the see the doc I was feeling increasing faint. I asked to lay down and as soon as I did I blacked out, had muscle spasms, my eyes rolled back and I vomited the once of fruit drink I had.
I woke up to see seven white lab coats looking distressed. They did an EKG and it was abnormal. They called the paramedics and soon they were seven broad chested guys dressed in black on black with steely expressions. Expressions that told me nothing about what they were thinking. They were all combat medics. They has seen mangled bodies, patched up battle wounds, and comforted a soldier in his last minutes.
Guessing it could be my heart they took me an ER in town.
The ER doc I had was a crusty old bird who knew her shit. She ran a half dozen tests came up dry. This left sleep apea. I have not worked up rested in over a year. Maybe time to tweak the settings on the machine?

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My Leukemia has been behaving itself for almost two years. I fell into a hole last Wednesday. I just want to sleep. I get up for an hour, then back to bed for two hours. No appetite. I will try to see the doctor this week.

This means I will not be posting.

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One of the great Southern Rock bands performing their classic, Freebird, in 1977 in Oakland.

Early on, their manager put them in a small Georgia town, Macon, a place with few distractions to work on their act. He arranged for a meat and three restaurant within walking distance from their house to feed them three squares a day.

The keyboardist, Billy Powell, had been a roadie with the band for two years. During a break at one event, Powell sat down at a piano and played a song. When the band realized their roadie’s ability, he was offered the position of keyboardist.

Notice the fresh faced Little Darlings at the fence line. How long do you imagine the band would stay alive if they were dropped into their midst?

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The strangest spanking I ever saw was at a Sunday night youth group. There were about 14 of us. Coed. We met in the basement of the church. There was 30 minutes of moral instruction, during which time you were to be still and quiet. If you weren’t the boy who could do no wrong would paddle you. I was like a statue.

The parents of one of the girls were the group leaders/chaperones. Their daughter was a 9.

One night the daughter committed some trivial sin during the program. After we broke up, I went down the hall. I passed by an open door and saw the girl being hit with a belt by the boy who could do no wrong. She was wearing a crinoline slip and her Mother was holding out of the way so the boy could belt her. Her Dad was watching.

How could parents allow this, even encourage it. I imagine she was punished at home with regularity and became submissive to allow this to happen to her.

Why did to go to this Sunday night group, you ask? Well, after the program (and spankings) we went somewhere for fun. We all had cars, but we could only ride in cars with designated drivers. (I sure was not a designated driver as they figured I would never arrive at the destination with my cargo. They would have been right about that)

There were always one or two more in each car than there was seating. I would sit in the back and one of the young ladies would sit in my lap and give me a “lap dance”, along with allowing some fondling.

 

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Last year I re-homed most of our toys for cost of postage. This is from one of the recipients. Regrettably, most did not respond to my request for how are the toys finding life in their new homes.
The “paddles & such” you sent were used a lot last year as my girlfriend at that time really enjoyed this type of activity. Unfortunately, since last December they haven’t been in use as we parted ways. I’m a dyed-in-the-wool conservative and she is very liberal, so it was bound to end eventually I suppose. It’s like the old Eagles song “Life in the Fast Lane” where it goes… “They had one thing in common, they were good in bed, she said faster, faster, the lights are turning red.”
I included a photo of the leather strap she liked by far the best. [It was the first leather toy I made] The wrist and ankle cuffs were also very popular as well. The strap was light enough that it could be used for a long while on her, bringing her to multiple orgasms. The others were also used, just not as often. I had hoped to get some before and after photos of her, but sadly did not. Next time, I will get some pics and send them to you.
Thank you,
Arizona Dave
Thanks Dave

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For Openers

Happily, they can be nailed or screwed.

Very fashionable. Microjean skirts with hose, garter belt and heels. Bacall is concerned they might snag their hose on the fence.

Panties Headed South

I think she is looking forward to having her bottom warmed up

The tent is super-imposed on an image of the Sierra Nevada. And you could care less.

Before – All Chirpy

And Then – Another Kind of Chirp

Cooling Off

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A recent post discussed our enjoyment of thigh spanking with a wooden batten. This post is about a malevolent leather slapper.

I learned of it from the wife of a switchy couple at a party. She was new to the group. I had never talked with her. She approached me and asked if I was interested in going with her to their room and getting a spanking. Hell, yes I was interested. I gave her a high score just for approaching me. She told me about a leather slapper that she used to cure her husband’s nicotine habit. She used on his inner thighs. That did not excite me, but she was agreeable to using it on my bottom. And off we went.

She gave me one of the most memorable spankings I have had. Like a fine whiskey, it had a long-lasting pleasant aftertaste. I bought a slapper the next day. It fit perfectly in the space where the bottom and leg meet. The area that is so sensitive. A few licks from Bacall were all I needed to do the spankee dance.

What makes it sting? A steel plate is stitched inside making it semi-rigid.