Saturday, December 30, 2017

New Year Ramblings in the Old Year.

Goodbye 2017 - Hello 2018

I can hardly believe another year has almost been tossed to the trash heap.  Last year, I was trepidatious about what 2017 would bring with 45 in Washington. Now I know and it's worse that I imagined.  He has decimated so many of the programs that were in place for the benefit of all and I'm quite sure he's not finished yet.

Enough of that.  How was your Christmas?  Mine was great.  As I mentioned we traveled to California to spend with our daughter and family.  We had so much fun and Ray got his water fix. The visit was way too short, but then they always are.

We received a big surprise when we returned home.  My brother called and asked if we wanted company for New Year's.  Needless to say we're both thrilled and can't wait for Saturday.  We have so much fun together and it will be good to show him our neck of the woods. Don't know how long he's staying but as I've said above, it won't be long enough.

The weather here is beautiful.  While a lot of the country is freezing their you know what off, we are running about 10 to 15 degrees above normal. It makes sweltering through those 110 degree days of summer worth it.  Speaking of summer,  Ray noticed that it's staying light a little longer now - not much, but a minute of day adds up and by the end of January it will be a whole 30 minutes at night.

I'll find some time to find a story for Monday because I know I won't have time to pen one between now and then.  I'm going to make a New Year's resolution to try and write more frequently in the new year.  Are you planning on making any resolutions?

Guess that's it for me.  Hope you stay warm and safe.  See you later for more Aimless Ramblings.

Monday, December 25, 2017

Merry Christmas

Merry Christmas, Felize Navidad, Joyeaux Noel, and any other sentiment that says have a wonderful holiday.  Hopefully, you're spending it with family and friends. If not, remember those Christmases past and dwell on the wonderful memories. 

Remember to think of those who are on duty today, to those whose situation doesn't allow them to celebrate, but most of all be grateful for what you have or have had.  Chances are you're luckier than most.  

Now for the story, this is one of my favorites.

The Christmas Angel

Her thin blue-veined trembling hands placed the angel gently in its place at the top of the small tree. It had seen better days but to Agnes, it was still as bright and fresh as the day she and her John placed it atop their first tree. When it was just right, she sat down in her rocker and closed her eyes.

In her dreams, she was a young girl walking down the street carrying gifts for her family when a young man bumped into her causing the packages to fly up in the air and land every which way.  He was so apologetic as he helped retrieve her packages and expressed his hope that nothing was broken.  By way of a deeper apology, he invited her to share a hot chocolate with him at the café on the corner.  She accepted and he helped carry her packages and set them down at a sidewalk table.  Agnes couldn’t help but notice how cute he was.  He had to be about her age with reddish-blond curly hair, cornflower blue eyes and smattering of freckles.  He was wearing one of those slouch caps that were so popular at the time and when he removed it, his curls escaped giving him a cherubic look. His smile showed the whitest teeth ever and when he spoke his voice was so melodic she never wanted to stop listening to him talk.    

They sat there for hours, her listening to his captivating lilt and him staring at the most beautiful girl in the world. The snowflakes that dropped from the sky, settled on her eyelashes, giving an extra twinkle to her eyes and when she smiled at him, he knew she had been sent from heaven; she was his Christmas Angel.

It was time to go, but neither of them wanted to leave the café and break the magic they shared. She invited him to spend Christmas Eve with her and her family.  He told her as much as would love that, it was only his Mam at home and he could not leave her alone on Christmas Eve.  Agnes extended the invitation again and included his mother.

The Cochrane house was bursting at the seams when John and his mother arrived.  Besides Agnes, there was Rose, Billy, Tommy, Catherine and Sean, along with their spouses and their children, Uncle John and Aunt Sarah, and Agnes’ mother Lily and dad, Shamus. They were a loud boisterous bunch with each one trying to be heard over the other but when Agnes introduced John and his mother, all activity stopped.  Agnes had never brought anyone home before.  All eyes focused on John and the sparks that flew from John to Agnes did not go unnoticed by anyone in that room, causing Shamus to remark that by next Christmas, he had a feeling his little Agnes would have a new name. Agnes’ cheeks burned with embarrassment but John merely went to her,  took her hand in his and brought it to his lips.  A chorus of oh’s and ah’s spread around the room.


Shamus’ prediction came to pass in July of that next year. When Christmas rolled around, she and John were shopping for presents when John spotted the tree topper.  It was an angel with golden hair and white gossamer wings.  Although way out of their price range, he told Agnes they had to have because it reminded him of her and what he thought the day they met, that she was his Christmas Angel.

Year after year, decade after decade, the Christmas Angel was carefully packed away to be brought out to stand atop their tree.  Every year, it was the last decoration to go on the tree and as soon as it was perched in its place, their little ones would clamor to plug in the lights and watch the tree glow and come alive with the Angel watching over all of them. The children would beg to have their daddy tell the story of how the Christmas Angel came to be.

Agnes woke, startled by the sound of Christmas Carols, somewhere down the hall.  For a moment she wasn’t sure where she was but when she looked at the tree and saw the Christmas Angel, she knew she was safe and John was near. She felt his arm around her as he whispered “Merry Christmas, my Angel.”

She was soon surrounded by her family, they came from far and near, children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren alike to be with her this Christmas.  It was the first time without her beloved John and they knew it would be a difficult one for all.  As each of them came to offer a Christmas kiss, the Angel seemed to throw off a special glow until the room was filled with a white light and the Christmas Angel glowed brightest of all as beautiful as it was those many years ago.

May the blessings of this season fill your hearts with joy that continue throughout the year. 

Sunday, December 24, 2017

Christmas Memories

I enjoyed the re-read of this one myself - Hope you do too.


We were finally finished. 444 Shady Elm Drive was festooned in her holiday garb for the last time under our ownership.  Barry carried me over the threshold as a young bride more than forty years ago, and every Christmas since we would drape fresh pine, fairy lights, and red bows across the width and breadth of her welcoming arms.  We stood back and admired our handiwork.  Next, we would decorate the tree that stood sentinel on our front porch.  Berries, strings of popcorn, and packets of birdseed tied to the boughs would welcome our flighted friends.  Here’s where the kids would put out the reindeer food as a welcome to Santa’s friends. Every inch of this house provided a loving memory, but it was time for Barry and me to begin another chapter in our lives.
The stately Victorian lady was a beauty and the porch is what sold me on the house all those many years ago.  It was more house than we needed or could afford at the time, but we managed. The previous owners worked with Barry and held the second mortgage because they wanted to sell to people who would love the house as much as they had.  We were that couple.  We spent lots time and money keeping her beautiful as she aged along with us.

It wasn’t always easy, but Barry held my feet to the fire (or should I say lit my bottom on fire) many times over the years when I overspent our very carefully crafted budget.  Once our son came along and I was a stay at home mom I had to economize even further, and Christmas time was always a red-bottomed time for me.  It was very difficult not to overspend our budget, not only on presents but on making the house a beautiful tribute to Christmas.

All of those memories came flooding back as we worked.  This year, when the Christmas decorations came down from the attic, they wouldn’t  be packed up and stored for the following year. This year, our children and grandchildren would be urged to pick out their favorite item and take it with them.   There were very few exceptions – things I couldn’t part with no matter what the consequences, then or now.

Things like the twelve piece Dresden Nativity set I purchased our second Christmas.  I was still working and planned to have it paid off before Barry knew the true cost.  Unfortunately, our son came along before that happened.  When Barry saw the bill and what was still left to pay, there was hell to pay.  I not only received my very first belt spanking that had me sitting on a welted bruised bottom for days and somewhere in our memory box is an essay on trust among husband and wife.  That was as difficult to write as the spanking was to bear.  The pages became tear-stained as the lesson became clearer as the words filled the page.

The first year we were married, Barry purchased this God-awful angel as a tree topper.  Gaudy doesn’t even begin to describe it but Barry loved it and for years it adorned the treetop.  He would lovingly gaze at its gaudy beauty and hang it in its place of honor.  It reigned supreme for ten years before I couldn’t stand looking at her any longer.  I found an angel to take her place and replaced his angel while he was at work.  He may never have noticed until our daughter, bless her heart, commented on how beautiful was our new angel.  A battle ensued, ending with the warning that the old angel better be back in place or my ass would be toast.  Since I’d burned the old angel, my ass was, indeed, toasted to a crisp. That essay on respecting your mate’s desires and personal possessions is also in the memory box.

We came inside as the day began its journey into night. Barry lit a fire, put on the old Christmas albums, and we started the task of decorating our inside tree.  Years before, Barry finally convinced me that it would be much more convenient to have an artificial tree. And here’s the reason for the next Christmas bottom warming memory. After much searching, I found one that I thought would make me happy.  It was a seven-foot beauty, with over a thousand pre-strung lights and the price tag was in the range of the lights.  My reasoning was that we would have the tree for years and if we amortized the cost of what we would spend yearly on a real tree, it was a bargain.  Barry didn’t agree – I was over his knee getting my backside warmed before the first ornament was placed.  We still have the tree and for years Barry reminded me of how expensive it was by giving me the number of spanks amortized through the years.  Another essay on how we were never to spend more than $200 without first consulting the other partner is boxed along with the others. 

The box with the Santa Claus suit was set aside for our oldest son.  Obviously, it hadn’t been used in years, and when we pulled it out, Barry and I both laughed.  He found the suit in a used clothing store and as a lark decided to buy it to play Santa Claus for our kids.  That night, when the kids were in bed, Barry tried on the suit.  We were teasing and playing around, and he was telling me what a naughty girl I was and how naughty girls were spanked.  There I was, sprawled over Santa’s lap, getting my bottom spanked when our son walked into the room.  He came over and started pummeling Santa with his little fist telling him to leave his mommy alone.   What a snow job Barry thought he did to convince our little one that he must have been dreaming.  It wasn’t until years later that our son confessed that he knew it was Barry all along and said he’d learned a valuable lesson that he carried forth into his own marriage. 

Then there were the ornaments we purchased each year, reminding us of a special vacation or events in our life – ballet slippers, ice skates, a Hawaiian beach shirt, a cap and gown and the infamous cheese board (paddle) Barry purchased the same time he bought the infamous Christmas Angel.

Once the tree decorations had all been placed, the lights lit, the Nativity Scene arranged under the tree, Barry and I sat back to admire our hard work.  We were exhausted, but there was one thing left to do.

“Are you ready?” he asked.

“Yes, let’s get it done.”

He bared my bottom and placed me across his lap.  “Now let’s get this bottom in the Christmas spirit,” and he began to spank so that I too was decorated in red for the holidays.

THE FINAL CHAPTER at 44 Shady Elm Drive

We just experienced the best Christmas ever.  Everyone was here, we all got along, no sibling rivalry, no hurt feelings, just plain fun.  Maybe it was because it was the last one in our home.  By next year, another family will be living here, making their own memories.

A couple of memorable things happened.  Our eldest son dressed in Barry’s old Santa suit and enacted the role.  Once it was dark and the children down for the night, he knew his eldest was not entirely asleep yet.  He went outside and made noise knowing his son would come to the window. The little one was sure Santa wasn't real but still wanted to believe the fantasy.  Seeing Santa made him a believer for another year at least.  On Christmas morning, he was wide-eyed with wonder as he told his sister and his cousins all about seeing Santa.  The best part was the deer came to feed, sometime during the night and all the reindeer food was gone from the front yard and deer tracks everywhere.

Another thing was watching and listening to each of our children’s special memory of Christmas in our house. There were so many remember when's we lost track. We played a game in which everyone chose a tree ornament and at Christmas dinner had to tell why it was special to them.  It was fun listening to the stories, especially the youngest ones.  The tears and laughter rang heartily when Barry shared the story of the flying turkey, or the time I almost burned down the house by burning dried out pine boughs in the fireplace,  and my husband hefting that large video camera on his shoulder, so it was all caught on tape.  Now, everyone’s phones captured the moments.

When everyone left they took their special ornament with them with promises to return in a day or two to help us de-Christmas the house and get it ready for sale.  Barry and I sat in the room and gazed around and held tight to each other while we thought about what we had created.  

I happened to look down at the tree and spotted a package, hidden at the back of the tree, that hadn’t been opened.

“Oh look, Barry, we forgot a present.”

“Oh no, why don’t you see whose it is.”

I got up, went over and picked it up.  The box wasn’t very heavy, or big but it was beautifully wrapped, and the card had my name in big bold letters.

“It’s for me,” I told him.

“Well, open it.”

“But who is it from, it doesn’t say.”

“Maybe, there’s a card inside,” Barry answered, with not a telltale clue on his face.

As I carefully unwrapped the present, tears started falling as I spied what it was.  There, in my lap, was a leather-covered book with gold lettering titled “Lessons Learned.”  Inside were all the essays he had me write through the years.  The last page was an essay, written by him, explaining why he loved me so and how important I was to him and our family.

Once the sobs subsided, he attempted to carry me upstairs, but I’m not as feather-light as I once was and I could see the strain on his face.

“Put me down, darling.  Save your strength for when we get to the bedroom.”

He laughed.  "That's one of the many reasons I love you so." He slapped my fanny and we climbed the stairs together.

"And that's one of the reasons I love you." I told him as I gave him my special wink.

As Clement Moore said in his last line, Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night.

Saturday, December 23, 2017

Santa Claus Special

Here I am again.  Another Christmas story - if your memory is in the same shape as mine maybe you won't remember these stories.  haha. This one was actually published in a collection of LSF stories - the proceeds donated to keeping the Kilhara Library alive and well.

Santa Claus Special

‘TWAS the night before Christmas and John and Shelley were busy finishing up the last minute things before Christmas morning. Shelly was wrapping presents, baking cookies and fixing a plate for Santa while John was installing batteries and beginning to assemble the toys.  Shelley hated having to wait until Christmas Eve but there was no place to hide the finished items so it had to be.  They always ended up in an argument and she ended up over John’s knee for being so disrespectful.  They even joked about it and called it the Santa Claus Special.  Shelley had a plan for this year and hoped it would work.

It was all John’s fault.  God forbid he read the directions first.  He would go about getting the whole thing assembled and then find it wasn’t right or worse yet, find leftover parts. Usually by the third toy he was out of patience and exhausted. This year was no exception. 

She could hear John’s frustration in the other room.  The mumbling came first and each time something went wrong, the mumbling became louder.  I am not going in there, she told herself.

“Shelley, can you come in here.  I could use some help.”

When she heard those dreaded words, she cringed.  I can’t escape now.  Lord, please give me the patience to hold my tongue and my sarcasm in check she said to herself.

“What can I do Babe?”

“You can hold the flashlight while I find out where this damn screw goes.”

She picked up the flashlight and positioned it just where she was told.

“You’re not holding it in the right place.” He told her.

OMG, it’s starting already, Lord are you listening. I need patience and I need it now.

“How’s this Babe? Is this better?” I swear I didn’t move it one iota.

“Yes, thank you.”

When that piece was finally together, he put it aside and pulled the next item to him.  Shelley, very quietly, tried leaving the room.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“There are some things I still have to finish up in the kitchen, Babe.  Call me if you need me.”

Shelley knew it was time to put her plan into action.  She went upstairs to the bedroom and brought out the package from Victoria’s Secret she had purchased last week.  She was just about to don the outfit when she heard his footfalls on the stairs.  She ditched the box under the bed.

“There you are.  I need you again.  Why can’t you just stay close?  You had all day to do this stuff.  I didn’t.”

His voice was getting louder and her temper was rising.

Sh, you’ll wake the children and then we will be in a mess. They are too young to realize that it’s daddy not Santa Claus who delivers the presents.”

She was biting her tongue to stop this before she let him have it with both barrels. Like I have so much time.  I should let him deal with the kids all day, while trying to grocery shop and get things ready for his folks tomorrow.Calm down, don’t let this go any further her little voice said.

“At least Santa Claus has Mrs. Claus and all the elves; I just have one disappearing wife.” He said grumpily.

“Okay, let me do this one thing and I will be right down to help, okay.”

“Okay, but make it snappy.  It’s already 12:30 and you know the kids will be up by 6:00 AM.”

“Yes, sir” she replied and gave him a salute, and not the kind you would expect.

He gave her one of those looks that said she was pushing her luck. 

“Remember what usually happens on Christmas Eve.  Well you are just about there.” He said to her.

“Oh, so that you have time for.”

That last remark was what pushed him over the edge.  He pulled her to the bed and over his knee so fast; she didn’t even have time to balk.  Her skirt was up and her panties down in a flash.  His rock hard hands were raining down spanks on her bottom so quickly she could barely catch her breath.  He stopped for a moment, she caught her breath and hoped it was over.  Then she heard the drawer open and knew it would only be moments before she would be paying the price for that last remark.  She heard the air whoosh moments before she felt that first burst of searing pain from the leather strap. She tried keeping still knowing squirming around would only increase the time and tempo of this spanking.  By the time the fifth strike hit her sit spot, she was done. She literally rolled off his lap and onto the floor.

“Get back here, I’m not done,” he told her.

“Well, I am. I am quite sure Mrs. Claus doesn’t have to put up with this.”

“I’m telling you to get back here.”

“Not happening.  Merry Christmas to you too.”

All of a sudden, he started laughing.  She looked at him with this perplexed look.

“Why are you laughing?”

“We did it again, you just received the Santa Claus Special,” he said grinning from ear to ear.

“I’m glad you think it’s so funny.  It’s not your bum that is as red as Santa’s suit and throbbing to boot.”

“No, but I’ll tell you what else is throbbing.”

Looking at his tented jeans, she too grinned.  “Too bad, so sad. You still have toys that need assembling.  You better get to it.”

She walked into the bathroom and when she came out, he was still sitting on the bed.  He was holding the Victoria’s Secret box.

“What’s this?”

“It was supposed to be my diversionary plan to avoid the Santa Claus Special.  I was just about to don it when you came upstairs.  Too bad it didn’t work.”

He took it out of the box and held it up.

“I don’t know, I think even Santa might spank you for something this naughty.  Tempting your husband like this deserves more than coal in your stocking.”

“Well, you missed your opportunity.  Now go put the rest of those toys together.  As you pointed out, it’s late and we have to be up early.”

“You know for a girl whose bottom is still red from a spanking, you are being pretty saucy.”

“Hush” she told him as she heard the pitter patter of feet. “I hear footsteps and it’s not Santa on the roof.”  The words were no sooner out of her mouth than their bedroom door opened and there stood Mikey.  He was all sleepy and rubbing his eyes.

“Has Santa Claus been here yet?  I heard noises.”

“Not yet, sweetie.  Let Daddy take you back to bed.  We don’t want Santa to pass us by, do we?”  He shook his head no. She hugged him to her and gave him a kiss.

John picked him up and trotted off to Mikey’s room.  Shelley listened to John talking to Mikey as he snuggled him into bed.  He is such a good dad and a good husband.  I think that maybe he deserves a reward even if he is an old meanie on Christmas Eve.

Before John went back downstairs, he stuck his head in the bedroom.

“Don’t think this is over, Missy.  I’ll be back; we still have some issues that need addressing.” 

She knew that wasn’t the threat he meant it to be.  Chuckling to herself, she felt those first slivers of excitement that his dominant tone and demeanor always brought forth. 

She donned the corset, thigh high fishnet stockings and lacy thong.  She then covered this up with a long flannel nightgown, fuzzy robe and slippers and trotted back downstairs.

“Okay, what can I help you do so we can get some sleep? Tomorrow is going to be a busy day.”

He handed her another box and she set about putting it together. Following directions made it easy and she chuckled as she watched him struggling with his item.

“Need some help.” She said saucily.

“You are cruising girl.  Keep it up.” 

She went over to where he was working, picked up the item and saw just where he was having the difficulty.  Within minutes, she had it together, looked at him, and smirked.

He shook his head and slapped her ass.  “Not a word, not one word,” he told her.

She smiled sweetly.  He began putting the tools away while she placed everything under the tree and turned off the lights.  They climbed the stairs together. 

“I’m going to check on the kids, Babe.  Be right with you.”

She came into the room just as he climbed into bed.  She had removed her nightgown and robe in the hall, and donned the high heels she had stashed in the kids room.  He almost fell out of bed.

“So, do you still think Santa would spank Mrs. Claus for wearing this naughty outfit, or would he have other things on his mind?”

“I don’t know about Santa, but I know what I’m going to do and I am going to enjoy every minute of both.  Come here, you sexy thing.”

Suddenly he wasn’t so tired. 

Friday, December 22, 2017

A Family Christmas

I've decided to repost some of my  Christmas stories from the past.  Hope you enjoy reading.

Tis the season to be jolly, that’s what she kept telling herself.  Three weeks before Christmas and she was already stressed to the max.  She had usually completed the shopping by this time of the season but this year she had just begun. It was because she had to buy presents for Kyle’s whole family. 

Kyle informed her they were going to his family’s home in New Hampshire for the holidays. It had been years since she’d seen any of his family.  Since then she and Kyle divorced, remarried, divorced and then remarried each other.  She could just imagine the jibes she would receive from his family and wasn’t sure she would be up to them for the three days they would be imprisoned in that mausoleum of a house.  Her only hope was for good weather, so they could at least get outside a little.  New Hampshire was the kind of place one visited in the summer, and even then New Hampshire summers weren’t exactly what she considered summer. Kyle brought her home to meet his parents the summer they met and she damn near froze to death. 

Anyway, his whole family was gathering this year, and Kyle said they were going, and he didn’t want to hear any grief about it.  He said he spent enough holidays with her dysfunctional family and she owed him.  She couldn’t disagree, but he shouldn’t have burdened her with purchasing gifts for all of them.  He should be out here with her but no; he's at a sales conference in Hawaii while she’s running ragged trying to find gifts for people she didn’t necessarily like.

Kyle came from a very prominent family; his ancestors came over on the Mayflower.  They were all pretty snooty, and she knew she was not his mother’s favorite choice for her precious son.  Mathilde Hawthorne probably celebrated when she and Kyle divorced and cried when they remarried.  Kyle was not his family though, and so she would be on her best behavior for the time they were there.  She might have to take Xanax, or smoke some pot, but she would be nice.  She would do it for Kyle.          


When Kyle came home from the sales conference, Megan had most of the gifts bought, wrapped and ready to be shipped.  She was sending them ahead of time by FED EX rather than deal with them at the airport. She only had to buy something for her mother-in-law, and she wanted Kyle to help with this gift. 

“Honey, do you have any idea what you want to buy for your mother?”

“Not a clue.”

“You’re a big help.  How about a Pandora bracelet?”

“What the hell is a Pandora bracelet?”

“It’s sort of like a charm bracelet.  It’ll be expensive, but it is something your mother might enjoy.  We could always add more charms for her birthday, Mother’s Day, next Christmas.”

“Fine. We’ll go shopping on Saturday, and you can show me what you’re talking about.  Right now, I want to spend some time with my wife.  I’ve been gone all week, and I’ve missed you. Let’s go upstairs and play some adult games.”

“Last one up is a rotten egg.” She ran past him and pinched his ass on the way.  She heard him laugh and say, “paybacks are a bitch” as she ran up the stairs. He could hear the door close and lock.  He knew her so well.  He knew if he didn’t go up right away, she would start to get curious and would eventually come to the door, unlock it and sneak a peek.  He quietly waited outside the door and soon saw the shadows under the door moving closer.  The minute she cracked the door open, he pushed her in and pulled her into his arms.

“Are you locking me out of our bedroom?”

“Would I do that?” she asked him all innocent.  

He took her over to the bed and laid her across his lap.  He loved looking at those porcelain globes and loved watching his slaps turning that white flesh a blushing pink.  He watched her squirm and carry on as if he was killing her when he knew she loved every moment.  He could see her juices glistening down her thigh, as his fingers started to invade all open cavities.  She was wriggling, her body literally vibrating when she moaned and called out his name.  He took her then, and they came together.

Kyle loved their marriage this time around.  The first time they were both too young and didn’t realize that marriage took work.  They divorced and he immediately jumped into a relationship and married Judith.  It was a disaster and they soon divorced.  He made a vow he would not get married again.  Megan married again too and although her second marriage lasted longer than Kyle’s, it too ended in divorce.

As luck would have it, they ran into each other at a gallery opening.  The spark was still there, and they began dating again.  After five months, Kyle broke his vow and asked Megan to marry him again.  She agreed.  This time the marriage was filled with understanding, love, fun and great sex.  A lot of that had to do with spanking.  Megan wanted him to spank her the first time around.  After a couple of failed attempts, Megan gave up.  Kyle was brought up knowing that striking a woman was not acceptable and no matter how much Megan tried to convince him otherwise; it didn’t work.  It was not the only reason the first time around marriage didn’t work, but he was determined if she was still interested,  he would give it a try on this second go round. 

Megan was still interested and currently, spanking was very much a part of their sex life. It wasn’t just Megan that enjoyed it now.  He loved it too.  He might not spank her every time they made love, but he noticed that when he did, their level of enjoyment was increased exponentially.


The next Saturday they headed to the mall, and Megan showed him the Pandora bracelet. It was more than he wanted to spend but agreed it was a good idea and after all, it was his mother, and they could afford to splurge once in a while.  After leaving the jewelry store, they walked the mall and came upon a shop selling sex toys.  They perused the items, purchased some and decided to go home and sample their new products. 

That very afternoon, they played with the ben wah balls and Kyle spanked her with the new leather paddle.  They were laughing and having a good time when he remarked that his parents would probably benefit from some of these toys.  Megan agreed and giggled picturing Mathilde getting spanked by Henry.

The next week, Megan was at the mall again and the sex shop called her name.  She remembered what Kyle said and knew what she was going to do.  She was going to buy a paddle and a vibrator.  She would wrap them as gifts to Henry and Mathilde as if they were from each other.  She could imagine the looks on their faces when they opened the presents.  It would make the three-day stay in New Hampshire bearable just thinking about that, and she giggled as she made the purchases.

She didn’t dare tell Kyle her plan, just proceeded to wrap the presents and put them with the others.  She had to put it out of her mind because otherwise, she was sure to tell.  She’d tell him after the fact.  Actually, she wouldn’t have to because she knew Kyle would immediately know who was responsible.


They arrived in New Hampshire on Christmas Eve Day.  As much as she hated to admit it, it was picture perfect. The mausoleum, as she called it, sat on a rocky point overlooking the Atlantic Ocean. A fresh layer of pristine snow covered the ground; icicles of all sizes hung from everywhere, frosted windows and white lights sparkling in the bare branched trees, made it look like a fairyland.

After dinner, the children were sent to bed to dream their dreams and await Santa’s arrival. The Hawthorne's carried out their family tradition of the adults opening their gifts on Christmas Eve with Christmas morning reserved for Santa’s presents.  All the adults,gat

hered in the living room warmed by the fireplace.  It was a beautiful scene with the crackling fire providing a soft glow only enhanced by the lights on the huge Christmas tree in the corner. 

Once everyone settled in, Henry began doling out the gifts. When he got to the one addressed to Mathilde from him, he looked perplexed.  Megan had to look off for fear she would give herself away.  When all the presents were handed out, they each took turns. One of the first gifts Mathilde opened was the Pandora bracelet.

“Oh, Kyle this is lovely.  Thank you so much.  How did you ever know I’ve wanted one?"

“You’re welcome, Mother. However, I didn’t think of it; it was all Megan’s idea.” 

“Oh,” she said.  “Thank you, Megan.” She may have said the right words, but the tone and attitude didn’t match.  Just you wait, Mathilde.  She couldn’t wait now; she knew it was naughty but just once Megan wanted to see Mathilde squirm.

She didn’t have to wait much longer because the next gift she opened was from Henry.

“This is from my darling husband” she announced as she opened the vibrator.  For a moment, she didn’t know what it was and began examining the box.  Everyone else was snickering, and Henry was red in the face.

“Darling, that isn’t from me.” Henry piped up.  Mathilde was speechless and practically threw the item down on the floor, quickly covering it with the discarded wrapping paper.  “Next” she called out. 

Kyle, who had been holding Megan’s hand, squeezed it hard.  In that instant, she knew he knew and the look he gave her was a mixture of mirth, and “you’re in so much trouble” she almost giggled. 

It was almost anti-climatic by the time Henry opened his supposed gift from Mathilde.  The leather paddle was beautiful leather, embossed with a rose and a card attached that read, ‘guaranteed to provide rosy cheeks. At first, everyone maintained their usual staid demeanor until Kyle’s brother-in-law couldn’t hold on anymore and laughed out loud. Soon, everyone, except Mathilde and Henry, was hysterical. 

Henry and Mathilde had the last laugh though.  When they were ready to retire for the evening and said good-night to the younger generation still imbibing adult beverages, her last words to Henry were,  “Be sure to bring our new toys with you and check to see if batteries are needed.”  This set off another round of laughter. Megan couldn’t remember ever having such a fun Christmas Eve.

Kyle made sure that Megan received her very own rosy cheeks that evening, she loved every minute of it.

Thursday, December 21, 2017

Twas the week before Christmas

A Sunny Girl Christmas story from the past. I've posted a few for the next couple of days.  It's like the pressure of writing is off and the pleasure of reading is on.

We were getting the Christmas ornaments down from the attic.  As usual, I was distracted; I suffer from the Shiny Penny syndrome and saw an old photo album. The older I get, the more nostalgic I get around the holidays, and I couldn’t help myself. It flipped open to pictures of my brother and me when we were about 5 and 6 years old.  It must have been around Christmas because I can see the tree reflected in the mirror and my mother in the background.  You can see her look of surprise because this was in the day of old photoflash bulbs, and that burst of light startled you if you weren’t ready.

Seeing the look on my mother’s face in the photo reminded me of another time I saw that look. I must have been around 8 years old and was just on the cusp of not believing in Santa Claus. You know how it is, you want to believe, but you know it’s more of a fantasy than a reality.  I kept this to myself because my brother was still a firm believer, and I didn’t want to spoil it for him.

The Friday after Thanksgiving, my mother, bless her heart, would always make us sit down and write out our Christmas list.  She would post is on the refrigerator and next to it was a paper with each of our names posted on the top, and the days until Christmas on a column down the left-hand side of the paper.  There were columns running down the length of the paper and across the top, she named our chores and the last column was named behavior.  Each day, she would mark off our completed chores and place either a star or a black X in the behavior column. It was supposed to serve as a reminder that if we didn’t behave, Santa would not be visiting our house come Christmas Day.

This particular Christmas as I was testing the waters of there being no Santa; I didn’t do very well with my chores and had many black X’s on my sheet.  My parents kept reminding me there weren’t very many days until Christmas and if things didn’t change, Santa wouldn’t be bringing me of the items on my list. 

“There isn’t any Santa Claus,” I proclaimed after one of these threats. Since my brother was within earshot, I received a stern look from my father who warned me to watch my tongue. I remember huffing and puffing and receiving a swat on my backside for the behavior.

“You are going to be one surprised little boy come Christmas morning.” I heard my mother say as I walked from the room.

Apparently, they decided to make me a believer, even if it was the last year I would truly even consider the idea of the reality of Santa Claus.   My parents really played it well, on Christmas Eve, long after my brother and I were in bed; our dad dressed as Santa, visited our house.  He made enough noise to wake us. As we tip-toed down the stairs, there was Santa putting presents around the tree.  In the dim lights of the Christmas tree, he looked very real to me.  My brother and I quickly scampered back upstairs to bed.  Thinking of how naughty I had been, I couldn’t get back to sleep because I was really afraid I wouldn’t be getting any of the presents I so desperately wanted.  I don’t know how long I laid there, but I started hearing this noise.  After a time, I couldn’t ignore it anymore, so I tiptoed back downstairs.  Imagine my surprise, when I saw Santa sitting on the couch with my mother draped over his knee.  He had her skirt tossed up, and her panties down and was giving her a spanking.  I stood there unable to move.  I must have made some kind of noise because suddenly I noticed two startled faces staring at me. I ran upstairs, climbed into bed and pulled the covers over my head and cried.  If Santa was spanking my mom, I knew there would be no Christmas presents for me.

The next morning, my brother was up with the sun and trying to drag me out of bed to get downstairs.  He finally gave up and went down without me.  Shortly thereafter, my mother came upstairs; she pulled back the covers and took me in her arms and hugged me.

“What’s wrong sweetie.”

“You know.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Last night I saw you getting a spanking from Santa Claus.  Momma, you’re always good so if he spanked you; I know I didn’t get any Christmas presents.”

“Maybe you should read this note Santa left for you.”

“Santa left me a note.  Will you read it to me, Momma?”

She began to read:  Dear Evan,  I know you don’t believe I’m real, but I am.  I wasn’t going to leave you any presents because you haven’t been a good boy.  Your Momma convinced me you would try harder and volunteered to take a spanking on your behalf so you could have some presents.  Your momma loves you that much so you better behave, or I’ll have to come back and this time you will be the one to get the spanking.
Thank you for the milk and cookies and the reindeer thank you for their treats,
                                                                                        Merry Christmas, Santa

I remember apologizing to my mother as she accompanied me downstairs to find my gifts. Thinking back it did give me another year of boyhood because I did believe in Santa that morning.  By the following Christmas though I was a total non-believer - no self-respecting nine year old still believed in Santa Claus.

I was closing up the album when my wife called out to me. “What are you doing up there Evan?  I’m standing down here waiting.”

“Here I come, dear.”

I carried the boxes downstairs and began telling my wife about finding the photo album and how I just couldn’t resist looking at the pictures that awakened so many memories. She laughed as we reminisced about our own Christmas tradition. It started the first year I dressed up as Santa Claus for our own children when I told her my story. Thereafter, every year, once the children were settled in for the night, I would give her a bare bottom Christmas spanking before the Santa suit was retired for another year.  We did make one change though, we moved to our bedroom and locked the door.

Our kids and their kids were coming home for Christmas this year.  The whole family hadn’t all been together for years and my wife, and I decided I should reprise my role as Santa Claus for the grandkids.  We rummaged through all the Christmas boxes and found the Santa suit.

 It was quite a few years since I last donned the suit.  I tried it on and although the suit still fit let’s just say I didn’t need padding anymore. I was starting to buckle the belt when Wendy began teasing me about my paunch.

“You shouldn’t tease Santa Claus, little girl, you might get coal in your stocking?”

She laughed and asked me if I needed help poking holes in the belt to make it fit.  I whipped it off and waved it at her in a menacing manner.  She laughed at me again and this time I whipped her butt with Santa’s big black plastic belt.  Wendy and I were both laughing hard as I chased her around the room flailing that ridiculous belt.  Finally, breathless and collapsing from laughter, I managed to pull down her jeans and take her over my knee and spanked her bare behind.  One thing led to another and we made love in our usual Christmas tradition. Once again, the Santa suit had once again worked its magic.

See you later for more Aimless Ramblings.

Monday, December 18, 2017

Spanking on the Week before Christmas

Happy Monday everyone - It's the countdown week to Christmas - seven days to go.  Next week this time we will be celebrating the holiday full of good cheer for surviving another year of harrowing shopping excursions.  I, for one, am glad for online shopping.  It keeps my sanity in tact.   

It's been a full round of holiday lunches and parties here and after today, I can concentrate on getting packages and clothes together for our trip to California.  This will be the last new story I plan on posting until the new year.  I can't imagine there will be anyone interested in reading stories on Christmas and New Year's Day, so I'll post a re-run Christmas story for next week and find something for New Year's in the archives.

Some of our friends here in blogland are in need of some prayers and good cheer.  Roz and lindy could use some good thoughts and condolences go out to PK and Nick on the loss of their beloved Mother/Mother-in-Law.

Here's this week's story.

Marco walked into the kitchen and saw Nedra standing at the kitchen counter staring out the window.  No matter that she was dressed in baggy sweats with bare feet and hair all tousled from sleep, she was still beautiful and he loved her to pieces.  He came up behind her and patted her on her behind.  She jumped at his touch.

“How’s it feeling this morning?  It can’t be that sore.”

“Oh really, how would you know, is it your butt?

“Nedra, are we going to have a repeat of yesterday?”

“I don’t know, are we?”

“Before this goes any further, I’m going to walk out of the room and come back in.  Maybe you need some more coffee.”

“I don’t need any more coffee, what I need is less of you telling me how I should or should not feel.”

“Nedra, I’m warning you.”

“Go blow it out your ass.  Oh I forgot, I’m not supposed to say that word.  Go blow it out your butt.” 

 Nedra walked out of the kitchen, with Marco on her heels.

“Why are you being so naughty?  What’s bothering you?”

“You, at the moment,” she told him and kept on walking into their bedroom. The truth was she didn’t know why she was being such a bitch.  It probably started out yesterday morning when he gave her a bunch of errands to run for him.  She already had her day planned and it didn’t include running around town for him.  It was the last day she was free to finish Christmas shopping.  The thing that bugged her the most was that he didn’t even ask, just told her what he needed her to do.

As the day wore on she became more and more bitchy, so by the time she arrived back home, it was late and she was exhausted.  Marco was already home.  She walked in the door with her arms loaded  - no hello,  no how are you, no how can I help,  but did you get my errands done.  It pissed her off.  Then to top it off, he asked what was for dinner.  She had been out all day, was already tired and irritable having to deal with the Christmas crowds and dinner was the last thing on her mind.  She let loose with a barrage of colorful adjectives that earned her a damn good spanking. A spanking she didn’t feel she deserved.  Sure she was mouthy and used words on “his forbidden list’, words he never wanted to hear come out of her mouth,  but he should have considered the circumstances. 

That spanking had lasted far longer than Marco anticipated.  He knew Nedra had a bad day and needed the release but she refused to give and kept holding on to her anger.  He continued to spank trying to get her to let go but when he was worn out and she still hadn’t given in, he quit spanking her enflamed bottom and told her to get ready for bed.  “What am I a child,” she asked.

“Yes, a very naughty child.  Now do as I say or you will be back over my knee and this time, I’ll get the paddle.” 

“The hell with you.” she told him. 

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that, but it’s the last time I’m going to cut you some slack, now get undressed and into bed.”

Nedra emitted a loud sigh but knew by the tone of Marco’s voice that she better acquiesce for the sake of her already throbbing bottom.  Marco watched as she climbed into bed.  He noted that her backside was still pretty red and he hoped there would be no bruises in the morning. He took her phone, her kindle and turned off the light before returning downstairs. 
About an hour later, he went back up to check on her and thought she was sound asleep.  He reached over to give her a kiss but found himself getting punched in the jaw instead.  That did it, bruises or nor bruises, he reached over to the nightstand and found the paddle.  She found herself across his lap, getting her bottom paddled furiously before she had time to contemplate what she had done. 

“You never ever hit me like that?  Do you understand?”

She hoped he didn’t expect an answer because she was too busy trying to absorb the pain and her brain wouldn’t allow her to form any words. Luckily, or unluckily, for her, he didn’t wait for an answer, because the paddle never stopped landing on her fleshy cheeks – first one, then the other.  When she didn’t think she could handle another whack, he stopped, put down the paddle and tucked her back into bed.  “I’ll see you in the morning,” he told her as he turned off the light and left the room.

When she came down the following morning she was ready to apologize until she saw that he hadn’t even bothered to put anything away.  He obviously decided to fix himself something to eat and didn’t clean up afterward, so the frying pan was still on the stove, the plate and utensils congealed with dried eggs, still on the table. 

Ignoring the mess, she put on a pot of coffee  - caffeine would be her savior.  She poured a cup and went to the window to enjoy the pastoral scene as the coffee calmed her down.  She was fine until he had the temerity to ask about her bottom.  Nedra hadn’t bothered to check for bruises but she was sure she had a few – not that they bothered her that much – but she learned she was still tender when her ass hit the toilet seat earlier. 

His comment about her still being sore really brought back all of the previous days' anger and resentment. 

“I’ll tell you why I’m behaving this way.  It’s because I’m pissed at you.  You give me a whole list of things to do for you on top of my already busy day and you never even asked, just dictated.  Then after a whole horrible day, the first thing you say when you see me, is did I get everything done and ask for dinner.  Did it ever occur to you that I had a horrible day? No, your only thought was to yourself and your damn stomach.  I got up this morning ready to apologize and what do I find, you didn’t even bother to put things away and left the kitchen a mess.  I was trying to enjoy a cup of coffee, and you come in and ask me how my bottom is.  It’s damn sore, that’s how it is.  Now go away and leave me alone until I calm down and get down this coffee and something to eat because if you remember correctly I was sent to bed without dinner.

Marco stood silently as she vented.  When she was finished, he took her in his arms.  He whispered in her ear that he was sorry for acting like a grade A jerk and asked for her forgiveness.  “What can I do to make things better?”

Later that day he found a whole Honey Do list on the table.  He read it and laughed.

What do you suppose was on that list?

See you later for more Aimless Ramblings.