Wartime romance

What did (or do) your parents get up to when they were in the first flush of romance? For most of us I think it's something that we'd rather not give too much thought to, isn't it?
Reading your parents' love letters must be quite an experience, especially when they were written in wartime. Putting them on the web for everyone to see is really, really brave.
Let me back track a little. Last night I was using a page from Thursday's copy of The Times when I was doing some painting. Reading as I worked I came across a thorough startle. 
The heading said 'Ripping wartime romance with a happy ending', but a quote was picked out in bold and it was that which caught my eye. It said: "Darling one, it's just as well you aren't here as you would probably have to spank me hard — but what a heavenly spanking!"
It was a story about a daughter who had put all her mum and dad's wartime letters on a site called With Love from Graz. He was a soldier, she was a nurse and they served in different places, so there were regular letters from one to the other. 
The story is here, but The Times has a paywall. But it turns out that it started out closer to home to me in the South Wales Echo, which you can read for free - it's here.
The daughter says the letters "can be a bit like reading Shades of Grey..." Which made me think about how I'd feel if it were my parents - and about what my kids would discover about me if they ever stumbled on some of the stuff I've written.
I do like the site, but looking around I can't see much more in the way of grey shades. You can read about the "heavenly spanking" in a letter dated May 12, 1946.
I'm not sure why Katie thought she deserved the hard spanking. Possibly it was just because she was beging a bit negative and letting her stiff upper lip sag a little.  

Measured behaviour

My little crush of the moment is cold, steely and scarily strong. He's also rather exacting and seems intent on keeping me on the straight and narrow...
OK, I'm overdoing things here but I'm at that stage in a relationship where you're all over-excited and gushy. Finding such a great new-to-me corruptible - our little metal ruler - is quite something. I was out the other day buying some art supplies for youngest daughter when I came across it in amongst the paints and crayons  and the light bulb in my head pinged on.
When I'm judged to be in need of some attitude adjustment SO says 'got fetch me something' and I'm expected to select the implement that will be used on my bot. So, yesterday when we reached that stage I trotted off to find... the ruler.

In the past I've played with wooden rulers (for school scenarios) and been distinctly underwhelmed. Too light - no umph whatsoever.
Metal is quite a different sensation - and I'm hooked on it. I know lots of people prefer the extreme end of TTWD, but I'm pretty middle-of-the-road and don't like anything too heavy.
And the ruler is just right, lots of sting and heat, but not the deep muscle pain that SO's usual weapon of choice (the clothes brush) imparts. It left me feeling so exquisitely hot back there that I thought I'd melt.
I'm now struggling to suppress the urge to brat too much because I'm itching for seconds. I'm also thinking that I need to visit the DIY store; would they perhaps stock a bigger, meaner steel ruler mark 2?

This thing...

How come I didn't know? All the time I've happily squandered on spanko blogs over the years and I've managed to miss TTWD. Thanks to smuccatelli (comment on the last post) for bringing it to my attention.
I googled for it and couldn't understand how I'd not come across it before. This Thing We Do. It's a great label, much better as a name for our shared 'thing' than the one I've used for years - spanko.
I like how it feels like secret code, something that can go unnoticed to the vanilla majority. It's inclsuive - not the thing I do, but that we do.
And  I also like how it seems to capture some of the puzzlement that goes with the lifestyle, on my part anyway. This thing is a mystery to me - why do I love it, why is it as necessary to me as food and drink? I don't know, but it is the thing I do, and that we do. 
Not sure why I've picked this old picture to go together with this thought. I've always loved it, there's a resignation in the stance of the spankee while the look on the spanker's face has an icy intensity. Altogether it seems to encapsulate all power of TTWD.

 

Big bang

Oh, the squirming embarassment of it all... A friend who works away was back in town for the weekend, bringing her DVD box set of 'The Big Bang Theory' with her. 
At her suggestion the two of us sat down last night for a DVDathon with a bottle of rosé and a box of choccies. All's going well until we got to the episode called 'The Fish Guts Displacement'.
You probably know the one I mean. It hasn't gone unnoticed. If not, it's the one where Sheldon is very unhappy with Amy and decides she must be punished in some way.
The key bit goes:
 

Amy: Are you saying you want to spank me?
Sheldon: I don't want to. But, it looks like you have left me no choice.
Amy: That's true. I've been a very bad girl

The spanking gets going - see it happen here - and the smile on her face as action cuts away elsewhere tells you all you need to know about Amy's attitude to it all. I tried to make my laugh sound as normal as possible, but I'm pretty sure that the atmosphere in the room as we watched that scene was charged with something or other (Sheldon would probably know an equation to describe what was going on...).
I was certainly uncomfortable with the moment. And, I think, probably I blushed a shade of pink that matched our wine, but then felt really stupid that in a post-50 Shades world I'm still so jumpy about what makes me tick.
Is it just me? Everybody else in the spanko universe seems so relaxed about their sexuality these days, but I'm stuck firmly in my closet and would be horrified if the door were ever to open enough to let in any light.

Sitting pretty

We spanko's take a great deal of interest in the well-being of our bottoms, don't we? Or should that be the unwell-being? But what about the impact of CP on your back?
No, not 'impact' - I'm not expressing myself very well here. The affect on your back, I mean. Since sometime last autumn I've been troubled with lots of spinal pain, mostly in the top bit around the shoulders.
I've been seeing a lovely osteopath who has mostly sorted out the problem and spent time changing my habits to prevent it getting so bad again. Kim says my bad neck and back are as much to do with my day-to-day life as the accident I had last year.
All the time I was spending in front of computers was the main culprit, she says, and things have changed there. I do less keyboarding and use voice-recognition a lot now too.
I've also been trying to think about bad posture and improve how I sit. This picture isn't exactly how I was sitting (and I nearly always wear clothes too), but it's an exaggeration of what I was doing wrong - butt out, head forward.
There is though, one issue I haven't discussed with Kim. It's my enthusiasm for the diaper position. I have to say, I love it but I think it too may have been adding to my difficulties.
So, diaper is on strict ration in our house these days. I'm quite happy to 'suffer' a pain in the ass, but hate the pain in my neck.

Too tempting...

As you know if you've ever spent time on this blog, I love all things 19th Century. I grew into my spanko kink in the days before the internet and it was vintage erotica that opened the door to self-discovery.
All those gloomy Gothic country houses with their stern guardians and strict, no-nonsense governesses... And, of course, lots of forbidden sexual activity.
You rarely come across 21st Century imagery that gets anywhere near capturing the laced-in passion of it all. I love the work of artists from the time like Lewis Bald, but when photographers and videographers have a go at creating a 19th Century scenario it's usually a disaster. So, I was thrilled to see that Dreams of Spanking have ventured again into Victorian/Edwardian country - because they do it so well.

I'm so busy at the moment with real world writing that I try very hard to be good and to keep away from reading spanko-world blogs - I can waste whole days blog-hopping. But I have to share my enthusiasm for 'The Edwardian Governess'.
I really do LOVE the costumes - they are so convincing. For me, there is something so incredibly sexy about a reddened bot peeping out from virgin-white old-style bloomers.
Actually, I think of them as drawers rather than bloomers. Not sure what the difference is, but my pair were 'lost in action' recently and I really could do with finding replacements.
And doesn't Pandora make a scarily strict governess. She has such a presence on the screen.

Hair trigger

I don't think I'm alone in spending quite a lot of time thinking about why I'm a spanko, or more broadly why spankos are spankos. Is it in our nature - a bit of genetic pre-disposition - or have we been made by early-life experiences?
Just now I was thinking about how things were when I was 10 or 11 and my Mum and older sister were, or so it seemed, constantly at war with one another. For some reason it occurred to me that over-hearing them may have been my 'trigger'.
As far as I know Mum never actually spanked Big Sis, but she often threatened to. I'd be in my room listening to them arguing and I'd hear stuff like: "I've a good mind to take your knickers down and give you a good hiding!"
Big Sis would say something like: "Go on then, I'd like to see you try..." And that would be that, Mum would come slamming out of the room and everybody would be in a bad mood for the rest of the day.

The other thing about these exchanges was that there was usually a fair bit of Mum talking about what would have happened to her in similar circumstances. "Do you know what my Mum would have done to me if I'd said that to her?" she'd ask, before answering the question herself: "She'd have taken a belt to me, that's what!"
That didn't seem to add up because my Gran was such a small, gentle woman that I could never imagine her as a belt-wielding disciplinarian. Anyway, from the time when my sister was about 15 to when she left home at the age of 19 there was lots of talk about CP in our house; it didn't happen, but it was on the agenda.
That was all going on when I was between the ages of 9 and 13, an impressionable time. Another thing, I can remember was that when Big Sis did move out I was really pleased at the change it brought to the house.
There were no arguments and everybody (Mum, Daddy and I) got on much better. Also, after feeling overlooked for such a long time I was suddenly the centre of attention.
My point is that just when my brain was being wired for sexuality our house was buzzing with parent-child confrontation and lots of talk about CP. And, I think I was jealous of the attention Big Sis was getting from Mum, even though it was negative attention.
Anyway, this post has begun to read like I'm on the therapist's couch. Sorry, but it does make me wonder.