Creative Spanko Wench Blog

As the absolute queen of lurkers - I read everything but don’t want to offend any one so I smile, enjoy, finish reading and move along. It’s not at all a wish to obviate or hide my constant presence. I respect the collegial community the spanking community has established. Maybe someday I’ll get to be a productive member.

Here’s an offering a very close friend dared me to take on…..

The Dowry

© 2008 by patty

Patty arched back her left hand stroked the still warm well used surface of her dowry. Ian’s gentle thrust buried his thick tumescence easily to the hilt within her and Patty welcomed him inside her with a sigh.

It was the start of her monthly week of spankings. Though much had changed over the years this had become a fixture. It was their own, now decades old, tradition; a tradition borne of need and pragmatism. For 6 days as she was due for her moody time, arbitrarily timed to begin on a Sunday every fourth or fifth week, Patty would rise early, make coffee and bring it to Ian in bed. She would take a few sips, and then hand the rest to him to enjoy while she applied her warmed lips to his manhood. Keeping her husband from church using such sinful wiles earned her bared backside a long sound dose of her Dowry every morning for a week. A week that was once timed predictably to end just after her monthly bleed began. A week, that still, and would probably always, end with her mood becoming very mellow indeed.

*******

Patty had taken her time stroking and sucking her husband’s growing member. She knew he liked it slow, and she liked to prolong the journey; both journeys, the one she and Ian took together and the one her mind took with them. The one they took together was in the now, renewing and keeping their bonds. Her mind, on the other hand, often traveled through time, through their lives, blending her needs, desires and fantasies with their realization.

Time served them both and made these Sundays sweeter. Age gave both of them the need and the comfort of leisure. Even life lived well tended to slow the urges considered ‘urgent.’ The trade was easy to make, though neither remembered ever consciously making it. It was just time’s blessing. Shared pleasure that once climaxed in a whirlwind, had at some point, over time, exchanged for a sweet and physically necessarily longer period of tender intimacy before the climax could come.

Nothing about desire or intensity had changed.

Well, maybe there’d been a few hiccups between them where one was a grey hair further behind or further ahead in their journey. His sparse though curly long hair was mostly pure white, and hers was a grand and full salt and pepper. They were mostly even. Ian liked that Patty always welcomed his occasional evening or morning lusty needs, and Patty enjoyed the freedom her marriage and love for Ian gave her to cast off taboos. She was a married woman. Meeting her husband’s carnal desires was her duty after all.

The secret she and he shared, that that duty was as much her pleasure as his was secretly and lovingly kept between them.
Especially secret remained the spanking they shared.

*******

Years ago when Patty was in her early teens, her Da stopped taking the leather to her when she misbehaved. He’d stepped away and left the corporal punishment to her mother. Not that her wooden spoon was a thing to toss her nose at, — it was certainly not!! It was then that something about wanting to be spanked by a strong man woke up inside her. Her father retreated not just as the person who after applying punishment, heard out her reasons and worries about how she could learn to be wiser, his abandonment stirred with something else – a deep urging between her thighs and up into her belly. At night when the thoughts and urges were especially strong, Patty found some relief stroking her bottom and the very swollen wet lips of her womanly parts.

Most confusing for her at first was the deep discomfort that her Da should be the man she sought to spank her. He was firm. Her mother owned the role of teaching a woman to be a good woman. He tried to explain that he’d done his best with her as his child. As she grew, his place as the man in her life seemed stronger yet still colored by what Patty still felt was shame.

The shame was a pain filled catalyst. It was a memorable period in her youth, using confusion as her excuse, that within barely year of what felt like abandonment by her father, she tucked away all of her future… (her values, needs, shame, rules, limits, plans for herself and yes even her quest for love).
The secret about every secret place we try to hide is ………?

dare you to follow all clues…