Just Another Boomer

@justanotherboomer.bsky.social

Devoted, old-fashioned husband to my lovely bride.

Today’s exercise. Use the rubric below to describe YOUR perfect spanking. For this exercise give no consideration to the wishes of the other person involved. Assume they want exactly what you want. Then tell us exactly what you want, your Platonic ideal of a spanking. 1/#

Swimming my laps tonight (always a quarter; half breast stroke, half free) and I realize--after decades--that the pull portion of modern breast stroke recapitulates the motion of a spank. No wonder I can spank for a continuous half hour if need be. How lucky is my lovely bride!

When my lovely bride arrived home from breakfast with her sisters, I surprised her a bit by greeting her right at the door with a kiss, and surprised her more by then firmly taking her ear and marching her to where I’d turned out a dining chair. 1/#

I must be getting old. Yesterday afternoon, as my lovely bride stood sniffling and rubbing in the corner, damp swimsuit pants at her knees, I went to the freezer and grabbed one of those refreezable blue ice packs and held it to ease my poor, sore palm.

Gave my lovely bride a solid smack on her bottom getting out of the pool this evening. I mean, the neighbors had to wonder if someone was setting off fireworks. "My WET, BARE, bottom? Really?" Sorry, spankypants, that's what was on offer. I mean, I'm not NOT going to swat your fanny.

Spankettes, how much do you vocalize during a spanking? Stoic silence? Inarticulate yelps? Clear "ows" and "ouches"? The occasional "No! Please."? Full on "Oh sir, I have learned my lesson full well and implore you to desist spanking my poor bottom!" Where do you land?

During the spanking, in nearly every position, the spankette can avoid eye contact. So it is mostly during the pre-spanking scolding that the tremendous power of eye contact plays out. Don't miss that opportunity. (Also works during a mouthsoaping. But that's another post.) 1/2

This thing is lightweight, kind of floppy, soft. My lovely bride advises it renders little sting or thud. But I like to employ it because, when applied to the seat of nylon or satin underpants, its concave shape renders a noise somewhere between deafening and comical. I'm easily amused.

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Every spankette has probably tried this once. The default response is to administer a full hairbrush spanking to the seat of every pair of underpants, and then soundly spank the bare bottom. As I say, many try this . . . once.

I am as my handle says. So maybe that's why. But I cannot fathom what drives folks here to post deeply personal, detailed stuff about not only themselves but about identifiable others. To what end? In aid of whom? What is accomplished? Can anyone explain?

Complex moral question. You and your wife are watching a drama series that drops on a given day of the week. Evening of the finale, a work obligation keeps you from getting home until very late. Watching the episode together on streaming next day, you soon realize she watched it without you. 1/2

Spanked ones, a question: How much of what you crave is "being spanked" and how much is "feeling punished"? [Though for some, it's "having BEEN spanked" versus "having BEEN punished." They crave the retrospection, not the moment.] There is endless variety in TTWD. Where does this land for you?

Do women still "have their colors done?" My lovely bride's skintone is decidedly trigueña. So I can tell you that a pair of emerald green satin underpants banded around her thighs below a very spanked, now dark dusky rose, bottom is the absolute perfect combination.

No supermodel walking the red carpet at the Met Gala in a one-off haute couture gown was ever more perfectly attired than my lovely bride when she's wearing only a pair of underpants and one of my old dress shirts. (Pro tip ladies: I'm pretty sure every man feels this about the woman he loves.)

First time in a while, someone needs this. Turns out the wooden spoon still has the power to leave a lasting impression. [Most spankings here are with my hand. And even with the hairbrushes, I think the impact is spread out enough not to bruise. The spoon, however leaves these little circles.]

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In TTWD, we pay a lot of attention to what the spanked girl wears. But I am told by my lovely bride that the exact same scolding and spanking from me is noticeably more compelling and evocative when I'm wearing a suit, waistcoat and tie, and she winds up looking down at a pair of polished wingtips.

Let's talk tech. For a Boomer, I can tell you I'm pretty tech savvy. As my spirit animal Ron Swanson says about his smartphone, "this is an excellent rectangle." Moreover, I've found it useful, from time to time, for purposes of DD. My lovely bride has earned spankings based on info from: 1/#

The little elastic pouch thing that holds my clasp pencils on my Otter Blotter notebook (it goes EVERYWHERE with me) is all ratty and torn. So I just spent nearly an hour online looking at various replacements. Totally reasonable dedication of resources, yes? Even at my exorbitant hourly rate?

There are some folks who are simply not ever going to a "spanking party," let alone some giant national SpankCon. My lovely bride and I are two of those folks. But that doesn't mean we aren't hugely entertained by tales of such events. So remember, you Vegas-bound people, sharing is caring.

So I posted this account of events yesterday. Last evening, we went out to this nifty old restaurant bar we like. Dark, quiet, comfy private booths. (Comfy even for a girl with a bruised bottom, in fact.) And we talked . . . a lot. Yesterday, as I said was first-in-a-long-time event, 1/#

Just Another Boomer@justanotherboomer.bsky.social · 7mo ago

My lovely bride just today got the first really REAL spanking in maybe two years. I walked out into the garage studio where she does pottery and he is standing, on tiptoe (!), on an antique wooden office chair with four very small and wobbly casters, so she could reach a part on her extruder. 1/#

My lovely bride just today got the first really REAL spanking in maybe two years. I walked out into the garage studio where she does pottery and he is standing, on tiptoe (!), on an antique wooden office chair with four very small and wobbly casters, so she could reach a part on her extruder. 1/#

My lovely bride, standing between my knees as I lower her jeans: No fair! You didn't warn me. Me: True. I didn't warn you. MLB: See! Then you can't... Me, tipping her over my knee: I DIDN'T warn you. I PROMISED you. MLB: :::something inaudible over the sound of spanks landing on her bottom:::