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@lylasdaddyalpha
If you see this
You were visited by the magic kitten of rest. Reblog to have a good night’s sleep.
Mr Bennett (not his real name) was an older guy I met while going to college. I met him at the church that I went to. I was at the supermarket and he was in front of me at the deli counter. He followed me through the store and asked me if I wanted to go for coffee. I said that I needed to put my cold stuff away, but would meet with him later in the morning.
We met for coffee and he asked me if I was ever spanked as a child. I told him about how I was raised with the paddle. He said “You need to go over my knee for a good, hard spanking. I looked at him and said “Just a spanking? Nothing else?” He said “I just want to spank you, that’s all.” I agreed and off we went to his place.
Once inside his house, he ordered me to drop my shorts and get over his knee. He sat down on the couch and he made me stand in front of him for a sermon about my behavior. He pulled down my underwear and pulled me over his knee. He wasn’t gentle when spanking me, which was a good thing. At first, I was just lying over his knee taking it. Eventually, my toes were curling as my ass started to redden. Soon my legs started to kick. I was starting to cry out and begging for him to stop. He kept slapping my ass real hard. I was surprised that he had so much energy and that his hand wasn’t really sore. He soon reduced me to tears. After what seemed like a 10 minute spanking, he ordered me to get up. I was going to pull up my shorts, but he said that he was not done with me. “Go stand in the corner with your hands above your head.”
I stood there crying and whimpering for 20 minutes. He finally came over and grabbed me by the back of the neck and led me back to his couch. He sat down and pulled me over his knee in the other direction, so he could work my ass over with his left hand. As sore as I was, it took just a few slaps to get me crying again. He slapped my ass roughly once a second. He slowed down the pace to admonish me about how bad I was. I was begging and bucking pretty good. He just kept on spanking me. Finally, after another 5 minutes of slapping my ass, he told me to get up and get dressed. He let me calm down for a while, but I am sure that my eyes told the whole story of my spanking. I eventually left.
While I was in college, I visited him once a month for a good spanking. I came to love his hands. They knew what every bad boy needs desperately.
There are lots of young men out there that an older man to be direct with them like in this story! Repost if you agree.
Absolutely. Exactly right ✅️
Just moments after her sentencing hearing had ended, Kelsie found herself shuffling alongside the court officer through the courthouse on her way toward the transport vehicle waiting to take her to prison.
Kelsie made the trip in stunned silence, the judge's words playing on repeat in her mind: "This court sentences you to life imprisonment, with no eligibility for parole."
After some two hours' drive, the squad car arrived at the womens' penitentiary. A young blonde Correctional officer met the car and helped Kelsie step out. "Hi, my name is Miss Aurora, and I'm the intake supervisor. I can appreciate that you're probably having the worst day of your life, so I'm going to be as pleasant as I can be. I ask that you remain compliant and respectful - if you do, we'll do just fine. I'm just here to do a job, just like you're just here to do your time. Do you understand?"
"Yes, ma'am," Kelsie replied.
For the next hour, the officer guided Kelsie through the in-processing procedure. The prison's newest inmate was strip-searched, fingerprinted, photographed, and issued one of the prison's signature green striped jumpsuits to wear.
When the guard had finished, she ushered Kelsie into a small holding cell. "You can hang out here," the said, closing the cell door and locking Kelsie inside. "It will take a few hours to get all the paperwork done so we can give you a cell assignment. In the meantime, get some rest. Do you have any questions for me?"
"Um, yes, ma'am," Kelsie replied meekly. "I didn't get any shoes or socks with my uniform, and this floor is freezing. Can you please tell me when I will get my shoes?"
The officer smiled empathetically. "Sorry, no shoes in supermax," she replied. "You could use them as weapons or hide contraband."
"Oh, okay...thanks," Kelsie sighed in disappointment. "Also, in county jail, they only chained me up for like court and stuff. How long until you can take the cuffs off?"
"You'll wear full transport restraints any time you are outside your cell block," Aurora explained. "So you get the full treatment for meals, visitation, lawyer visits, chapel service, and exercise yard. Within the cell block, it is up to the officer's judgment. They'll probably keep you in full restraints for the first few months until they begin to trust you. After that, you'll probably just have your ankles chained when on your cell block - that's the minimum level of restraint that all violent offenders must be kept in 24/7."
Kelsie began to sob softly. "Thank you, ma'am," she sniffled. Whispering to herself, the inmate softly said "So, cuffs and chained bare feet...forever."
"Aw, it's not so bad," the officer said cheerfully. "For what it's worth, you look adorable all done up like that. I'm sure you'll be VERY popular with the guards on those cold, lonely nights."
Kelsie forced a smile as the officer departed, leaving her to carefully pace the small holding cell, acclimating to her new life.
For Anon! Sorry I was watching Angel. You can totally hear it in the background. You get a key and a screw. All you do is click the necklace together and screw in the nail with the key.
Dom/mes will tell you they know a spot and then lock you in a kennel
the locks welded shut. these shoes will not be removed again. ever. which means that she is going to wear them at all times - at night, at the beach…
Scream
So this was in the Boston globe, and if I hadn’t read it myself I would have thought it was an Onion article. The lady wants walls again because now when she is working in the kitchen, her husband is in full view sitting watching TV and doing nothing. When they had walls, she was basically less aware of how ignored she was while being a hard-working woman and housewife. They don’t need walls, they need a marriage counselor.
Okay, but also: the walls are there for a reason.
In particular, the kitchen walls are there so that you can leave the kitchen messy when entertaining guests or having a meal (to the point that some open floor concept homes have a second, secret kitchen called a mess kitchen). The walls of the kitchen confine smells to the kitchen area, so your sofa doesn’t smell of bacon. Mess spreads from room to room.
Noise too, travels in an open floor concept. You’re confined to a bedroom or outside to make phone calls, listen to podcasts, etc. etc. without disturbing the rest of the household. The minute someone needs to cook? The entire house becomes unusable.
Open floor concepts have higher heating (cuz drafty) and cooling (kitchen) costs. They also require ALL of your decor to match if that’s a thing that’s important to you.
The noise and mess spreading in particular seem to me they could exacerbate marital problems. Do they need counseling? Oh yeah. Does the house make for a less hospitable home, that puts stress on a marriage? Yes.
my GOD does sound carry in an open floor plan.
The only doors in my house are the ones to bedrooms, bathrooms, closets. And when I’m in my first floor bedroom, even with the door closed, I can hear everything that goes on in the living room and kitchen, and half of what goes on in the dining room. I hate it.
the absolute funniest revelation in this article is that open floor plans took off because of home renovation shows, and the reason every home renovation show did an open floor plan is because they thought smashing walls down with sledgehammers would appeal to male viewers. that’s it. that’s the only reason.
Poor Raven never expected that the other titans would take the suggestion of “Regression Therapy” so seriously, or that she’d be so… reactive to it.
Good job guys, you put the cuffs on tight enough!
What are those
they put them on coastlines to prevent erosion, they’re made of concrete
That’s…really cool.
The wait is over! Here’s what’s gonna happen: for each 1k notes, something disappears. Like/comment/reblog to your heart’s content and in the allotment that tumblr will allow at a time. Have fun. Take your time. I swear the wait will be worth it.
This is Caleb, he’s 25, from Northern Minnesota, his dad was from Sudan and his mom was Hawaiian, he likes transformers, feet, hard rock, and he has a tattoo that says “The Only Thing That Sucks More Than Me Is Stephen King’s Writing Style” on his back. He is now my son and I love him. Maybe he’ll get a dom? But I dunno. Maybe Caleb plays on his own.
Chaste by Piroro
I actually really like the subtle changes to the sub as time goes on xD His training must be fun!
Sometimes, you just can’t win :P
I feel like I’ve lost miserably at this kinda stuff XD
When that q-tip hits your ear clit
your what
5 Times Monica and Her Mom Have Difficult Conversations About Auntie Carol (+1 Time She Plans A Parent Trap With Her Skrull Friend)
—- ao3 —- 1 —-
When Monica is five years old, her mom and Auntie Carol don’t come home in time for dinner.
This is unusual, they’re always home in time for dinner. But that day they aren’t.
She’d known something was weird before that, when the phone rang while she was playing Planes and Pilots with her bears Bessie and Jerrie, and Grandma almost dropped the phone and then pulled the cord until she could talk from the other side of the door. But it wasn’t anything that was important.
She’d thought so at first anyway.
But when Monica starts asking for cookies Grandma actually gives them to her instead of making her wait until she’s eaten her lunch. And then she doesn’t start getting ready for her mom and auntie to come home. And then Grandpa comes over to watch her too, and that only ever happens when Mom and Auntie Carol have to work on Sundays.
By then something has started clawing inside Monica, it feels like there’s a cat trapped in her stomach and trying to scratch everything in its sight. Grandma and Grandpa are so quiet.
She spends almost the whole evening just trying to draw but none of the colors look right and even though she’s big now, there’s frustrated tears at the edges of her eyes that she’s holding back by sheer stubbornness.
By the time the front doors finally open, Monica’s eyelids are beginning to grow heavy and her head is tucked into Grandma’s lap. She shoots up straight and is off the couch like a rocket before those doors get a chance to close.
“Mom!” Monica exclaims as she rushes into the hallway but stops short at the sight of her mom.
There’s tear tracks on her moms cheeks and she’s clutching at the wall like she’ll fall if she lets go. And she’s all alone.
“Mom?” She asks, suddenly so scared she doesn’t know what to do.
“Hey, honey.” Mom says, voice hoarse, and drops to her knees in front of Monica. She smiles at her, but it’s small and weak and only makes Monica more scared. “Let me talk to Grandma and Grandpa for a minute, and then- then I have to tell you something. Okay?”
“Where’s Auntie Carol?” Monica says in response, the claws inside her stomach getting sharper.
Keep reading
This is what it’s like living in Michigan
It’s a Monty Python skit.
Guy: *Singing* I’m doing some fishing…
Officer: *Emerges from the water with a grunt* You there, Sir!! I certainly hope you’ve got a fishing license!
Guy: *Panicking* Wha, no, I don’t!
Officer: Oh no?
Guy: *Screaming*
Officer: I’ll have you beheaded!!