After the completion of my second spanking instalment on Saturday (and a not unexpected tenderly butt-stinging time in the shower), DW determined that I was to remain in panties until Tuesday morning, when I was due to return to work after the Easter holiday break – assuming that my behaviour remained of an acceptable standard meanwhile.
Sunday morning saw me repairing to the hardware shop in search of some raw material from which to fashion a suitable replacement for the faithful Spencer Paddle that DW had succeeded in splitting across my backside. This I found in the form of some 12mm thick sections of oak in widths of approximately 70 and 90mm, the latter being closest in width to the old paddle. On (I suspect a rather bad) impulse, I also purchased a short length of 180mm wide good quality pine, about 12 mm thick.
The reason behind the last purchase has some history that dates back my meanderings through the F/m world and when I was subscribed to a website that specialises in photos and videos of men being spanked by women. One video set in particular that I shared relatively recently with DW shows a male spankee secured over the back of a rather large arm chair receiving multiple sets of six from an attractive disciplinarian in a rather short skirt. On the whole he is coping reasonably well with the strokes from a variety of implements, with his counting becoming just a fraction agitated by the sixth, and occasionally the fifth stroke – that is until his disciplinarian produces a majorly serious paddle which coincidentally, looks about 180mm wide and about 12mm thick.
The volume and tone of his responses to each stroke is radically different right from the very first. Only with what seems like a monumental effort of will after the fifth stroke does he manage to get his call of the count back from a rather high-pitched almost squeal, to a more male-sounding register. “How efficient!” remarks DW, “being able to get such a good reaction from so few strokes”. Mind you, if I produced the profanities that he did during this set of six strokes, I would be in panties and unable to sit comfortably for an indefinite period!
So while that particular piece of timber remains parked in the shed at the moment, I have had the time and opportunity to produce an oak replacement for our broken paddle that is virtually identical in size and shape. However, my first heft of the completed article revealed its decidedly increased weight in comparison to its pine counterpart…
Incidentally, I’ve also found the work of manufacturing the implements for use during my punishments to be a very strongly affecting aspect of my submission to DW’s discipline – and can recommend it to those so inclined.
Right now I am back in male underwear, but the manner in which DW has eyed off the new paddle gives some cause to believe that its maiden application to my backside may not be far away.