Tuesday, July 2, 2019

News from the Abbey, Week 07-01-2019

Oh my gosh folks, does this lazy entrepreneur need a spanking or what???

This is just one of the many stacks of books I haven't set up for The Naughty Abbey. That's right - I didn't get any of them set up this weekend! I needed some extra sleep and downtime - put your health first, my pervy peeps.  I'm sorry I'm behind, though. I love sharing these incredible vintage books with you.

I did get a few nice swats this weekend, just not enough to keep me on track! Mr. W got in a few solid smacks to my bare wet butt after I came in from the pool (so stingy!!!) and later got me in the kitchen with a firm hand over my shorts. Those kitchen spanks felt ahhh-maaaay-zing but there weren't enough of them! I think I need to tell Mr. W that his Little Bookseller is in need of a Manager Daddy if she's going to keep selling books!

Here are this week's sale titles. Have fun poking around if you haven't been to my shop yet!

Crowd-Pleasing Kink - 10% Off
Last Week's Most Visited Titles (Sale Dates 7/1 - 7/7)

Non-stop sex scenes circa 1976

Victorian porn = flagellation

My Etsy search results agree, incest is best

A MILF fantasy run wild

In paddle news....

I've been working on my product photos for the Auntie Abby paddle. Here she is in mahogany. I want this piece to be my flagship wooden spanking toy, available in a variety of hardwoods. We're planning on mahogany, knotty alder, walnut, and maple, but we also collect unique hardwoods so you might see this pop up in monkey pod, purple heart, or even mango! Should we make it in soft wood too? Do you prefer your paddles in pine? Let us know in the comments!

Monday, June 24, 2019

Hot Pink Pearl - Week of 6/24 at The Naughty Abbey

Bruising from just a few whacks of a small walnut OTK paddle made by Mr. W.
Get one like it at The Naughty Abbey

Hi! I know I promised the Auntie Abby paddles would be ready last week, but I redesigned the hanging strap for them this weekend so now there will be leather and non-leather options. We also designed a thicker version for an Auntie and Uncle paddle set! Still trying to figure out product photos, it turns out I am a terrible photographer, lol!

Updates from the Abbey

Crowd-Pleasing Kink - 10% off
Last Week's Most Visited Titles (Sale Dates 6/24 - 6/30)

First Place: Sleep Around Sis
Second Place: Young Bride's Weakness - SOLD
Third Place:  Sex Swap Camp

New Listings

A Must-Own for Spankophiles!
Ballantine Books, 1987

Signet Classic Edition, 1996

Girl-Girl Games by Rex Weldon
Carlyle Communications, A Beeline Book, 1976

The Boy Who Blossomed by Sandy Thomas
A Sandy Thomas Publication, 1993
20% off for Pride Month

Monday, June 17, 2019

Updates from The Naughty Abbey

So much going on at The Naughty Abbey, my vintage erotica and hand-crafted spanking toy shop!

Little Red Woodshop Sneak Peak

Mr. W has opened a spanking toy shop. I'm learning product photography so I can feature his beautiful pieces on Etsy.  As an introductory promo, check out these OTK paddles - in need of better photos but the paddles are incredible! So many more pieces on the way. 

These over-the-knee hardwood paddles are 10" long with a 4.5" round flat spanking surface. Each paddle is approximately 7/8" thick for a deep thuddy smack. 

Knotty Alder Over the Knee Spanking Paddle - $30 with FREE US shipping
Walnut OTK Over the Knee Spanking Paddle - $35 with FREE US shipping

Just a few titles left!!!

Crowd Pleasing Kink - 10% Off Last Week's Most Visited Titles (Sale Through 6/23)

Last Week's Top Three
Honorable Mention: Our Fair Flagellants Volume 2 - SOLD

Coming This Week

More titles for our Pride sale, a few Victorian erotica reprints (including a fantastic hot pink edition of The Pearl), and unique vintage gift ideas. Plus more paddles by Mr. W!!!

The Aunty Abby - Coming this week!!!

Tuesday, May 21, 2019

New at the Smutshop - Two First Edition Spanking Novels from Blue Moon and Venus Library


Schoolhouse Readers! I know I owe you many delicious posts featuring my spanking vignettes and ass-centric adventures.

In the meanwhile, check out the newest vintage adult books at The Naughty Abbey, both first edition first printing collectible novels featuring spanking and flagellation.

Sample pages from The Blue Train

Sample pages from Our Fair Flagellants (Volume Two)

Let's get busy... reading!


Saturday, May 4, 2019

Abby's Vintage Smutshop and Google Ate My Baby

Hello my fellow kinky folks!

Check this out: I have a vintage pornographic bookstore! 

Back when Mr. W and I first met working at Barnes & Noble in Southern California, we discovered that we both enjoyed books by "Anonymous," mainly those delightful Grove Press and Blue Moon books published in the 1980's and 90's. One night, in retrospect one of our first dates, we went out driving around Los Angeles, hunting for the last remaining adult bookshops still selling actual adult books. Even in 2003, those titles were becoming hard to come by, and we only found them in one shop. More importantly, we found each other - in our stories as we drove from place to place, in our shared delight in the same pornography, the same kink! It was the night I knew he and I were opposite sides of the same book jacket and that we had a lifetime of literary projects ahead of us.

This past January, we decided to buy a large lot of adult books in order to start our own adult bookshop. All the titles are vintage, currently the online selection runs from the late 1960's through the late 1990's. We opened on Etsy for ease of use, and we are off and running! We've been working on bringing in more titles since then, and I have a lot of back stock to set up.

Of course we have spanking titles! A good bit of  Grove Press and some Blue Moon, and I know I have more in back stock, including at least one Richard Manton. I am also enjoying getting to know the smorgasbord of kinks in some of the publishers I hadn't explored before now. Beeline Books are chock full of absolute nonsensical and delightful sex scenes ranging from masturbation to ... you name it. We have more taboo content than I was expecting, but it turns out it was extremely common! So yes! We have some pretty naughty stuff.

My book listings feature informational tidbits and my own descriptions. While I haven't all of the titles (though I do own some of them in duplicate), I am enjoying a light review process in order to provide kinky keywords, key plot elements, or observations about book elements I find particularly sexy or entertaining. This is also why it takes me so long to set up additional titles! But I love really SHARING these books with the world.

Shameless marketing: Free shipping in the US! And everything ships in discrete plain packaging from our LLC. Come check out my little bookshop, I am so gosh darn excited about it!

AND to add to the excitement, Mr. W has been making wood and leather spanking toys. I'm going to start listing some of the wood paddles in my shop as well. I'll let you know when those are up!

On where my blog went recently:

I discovered yesterday that Google had disabled my account and everything attached to it - including this blog! I didn't take it down. I just hadn't logged in, due to being super busy with life, work, and - powerlifting! I am a stronger, better, even sexier Abby. I finally feel good in my own skin. Anyhow, upon learning of Google's spaz, I fixed the issue and here I am. Sorry gang!

Wednesday, February 13, 2019

Prelude to a Cream Pie (A Naughty Abby Vignette)

This video is a snippet from my 41st birthday spanking, just last week! Not the same spanking as below, but is close enough, as it includes a hand spanking with a sjambok balanced on my bum.

I'd already left a creamy ring around the base of his cock by the time he moved me to the armchair with the intention of punishing me. I'd known it was coming, had tried to be ready for it, had tried since he'd texted me of my transgression the day before.

I'd been sitting at my desk at work when the message came through: "I need to have the kitchen wench severely whipped for forgetting my morning coffee!"

Alas, I was the kitchen wench in question, and I truly had forgotten his coffee! As I'd run around the house doing my usual 6 a.m. morning routine, I'd been distracted by Twitter, of all things. I proceeded to send a series of apologies and emojis, knowing two things for certain. One, he wasn't at all mad at me, and two, I definitely had that punishment coming anyway. Sure enough, he followed up with "It's really ok! I just wanted something fun to whip you for, and you provided!" Kissy lips. Mmm, a weekend whipping was on its way.

I climbed onto the chair, pressing the outside of each knee into the sides of the seat. I crossed my arms and rested them on the back of the chair, settling my chin into the backs of my hands. I arched, presenting my bottom.

He already had the sjambok in hand, the braided whip that alternately thuds into the muscle or stings across the surface of the flesh, depending on how he wields it. He has coaxed both low, rumbling waves of pleasure from my body with this leather beast, as well as weeping and welts. I'd been looking forward to this moment but suddenly wasn't sure if I had it in me to take a full punishment whipping, even for fun. My whisper hoarse, I told him, "I don't know if... I don't know what I'm up for."

"I know," he said. Without saying anything more, I knew he'd already taken my position, my trembling, and my wetness into account. I wasn't ready to say I was ready, but he knew I was without my saying it and I could sense his arm pull the whip back. A small nod of my head into my hands. The crack of the leather braid cut across the air sharply, breaking the silence, followed by a quick snap as the whip just barely flicked the naked skin of my ass.

It wasn't enough to howl about but I wanted to howl. Mr. W began a light but steady rhythm, the heavy braid landing at times more like a flexible cane when he choked up on his hold. The blows weren't hard, only consistent, only warming my backside from sit-spot to top-of-the-crack one stroke at a time. Despite the gentler strokes, it was hurting more than my birthday whipping. Maybe I just wasn't warmed up yet. Frustrated with myself, I tried to signal that I was ready for more.

He began to mix harder strokes into the mix, whippy strokes that cut into the inner curve of my ass cheek. They bit, and with those strokes I did begin to call out my pain. Each "Oh!" or "Ah!" seemed only to encourage the steadiness of Mr. W's lashes. Soon it felt as if the whip was dancing from cheek to cheek with quick sharp snaps, stinging and biting and inciting me to tears.

I was having trouble holding position and my body was doing a spastic twerk. I couldn't maintain the arch in my back and soon found myself free of the whip, collapsed over the back of the chair despite the punishment being quite minimal. Mr. W was giving me space to breathe.

"How are you doing?" he asked once I'd caught my breath. I shook my head. "Not great. Not as good as I want to be doing," I told him.

He stroked my back, my bottom. "You were doing great for long spaces and then it was like your body would give up. Then you were back at it, ready to go. What can I do for you?"

I didn't have to think. I knew I needed something to get over the hump in my own head, and I knew we were going to have to get closer than the sjambok allowed. "I need to cry. Will you spank me with your hand, Sir?" I asked. I wanted it. I wanted his hand burning my bottom, close, hot, and hard. I wanted it to hurt and I wanted to get past whatever was keeping me from fully enjoying the punishment up to now.

I was already in the mindset that my spanking was causing me pain. As his hand began to smack me, quick sharp spanks back and forth, I found my tears quickly.

What was bothering me? Smack, slap, smack, smack - I could feel my cheeks wobbling in time with the spanking. I did so well for my birthday spanking. Why couldn't I do it now? "Ow!" Sob. "Ow!" More sobbing. "Owwwwww!" All the tears burst forth.

The spanking didn't stop as I relived the last two days. We'd laughed about forgetting the coffee; the pain and tears were not contrition, it wasn't that. Work had ended on a positive note on Friday, I wasn't processing any stress there. For our primary weekend activity, we'd been working on the Etsy store, setting up naughty books for our smut shop. Visions of extreme sexual scenarios danced through my head, and  yet I was still crying and he was still spanking me and I was still trying to find a way to enjoy it.

His hand was firm, his palm curved to the shape of my ass cheek. Grabbing, slapping, smacking, turning me tender, each smack landing with a fire brighter than the last, his full attention on giving me what I'd asked for. Giving me the spanking I'd craved, the spanking I hadn't had to beg for, but would have. Then -

That's it, that's it. More please. Closer, faster, harder, I don't want the whip or the strap or the paddle or the cane, just your hand, Sir, just your hand, Daddy, yes please keep spanking me don't let me go don't turn away just you and my bottom, please, Sir -

I felt the arch return to my back vertebrae by vertebrae. My ass pushed back, greeting Mr. W's hand with greed. "Ooh, yes please Daddy, please spank me," I whispered, all my flirty filthiness back in force.

Later, Mr. W would tell me that it was a visible process that began in my shoulders and worked its way down my body, releasing the tension and unlocking my head. From the inside, it was a distinct shift, a place of pain turned quite literally to pleasure as the realization came to me that I'd been missing Mr. W. We'd been working together all day but not fully interacting. Sharing surface thoughts but not digging deep. We'd been so busy that even though we'd spent the day together, I hadn't felt him with me until he'd taken my hand-spanking to heart and let me have it. Connected, our skin warmed to the same heat, here he was with me. The shift in my head was from loneliness to feeling loved.

Fortunately for Mr. W, I don't get romantic when I feel loved. I get dirty.

The tears disappeared without my trying to end them. The sobbing became sighs of encouragement. "Yes, yes," I whispered, in case he hadn't noticed the shift. I arched deeper, presenting my body for whatever might be next on the agenda. I knew what I wanted, though. One of the books I'd been reviewing had an especially naughty scene that had stuck with me. All I had to do was say one particular magic word one more time so he'd know what I wanted, too.

Thank god he saw how wet I was again. I was clearly ready to move on from the spanking and so was he. With his hands on my hips, my lower back, he held me in place as he rested the head of his cock just at the dripping opening of my pussy. "I feel so little beneath you," I said, keeping my voice as small as I wanted to feel. "Daddy."

"Yeah?" His breath was rough. I was too wet. He was slipping inside me.

My voice even smaller: "Oh. Oh! Daddy..."

He knew what I wanted. He held tightly to my hips and pulled me back onto him like a glove he wanted to ruin. "Yeah, that's it, baby,"he growled close to my ear. "Take it for Daddy. That's it."

Scene-wise, that was all we needed. I bit the back of the leather chair and he let me have it, a pounding for my pussy but a salve for my mind. I was at peace in this place of being possessed. Throbbing waves threatened to break the spell and return me to womanhood, but:

"Oh, Sir. Oh Daddy! I feel like my tight little hole is going to burst all over you. Oh! Please, please. It's so much!"

We came together, collapsing in a gasping pile of trembling limbs. "Dear god you are incredible," Mr. W sighed into my skin. "Mmmmm, thank you Daddy," I purred, snuggling back against him. "Thank you for my spanking. My fucking. I needed you."

He helped me stand and held me steady. I looked down and saw the creamy emulsion my body had left on his. I grinned, remembering what was in the kitchen, feeling like a little girl all over again. "We have lemon cream pie!"

Mr. W's blue eyes sparkled. "Go get me some pie, little girl," he laughed.

"Yes, Sir!" Naked, sated, barely dripping any longer, I skipped off to the kitchen for pie.

I hope you're following me on Twitter! I'm on there daily and am generally happy to interact. Plus I post pics of my butt there ALL the time. @AbbyW2007

Thursday, January 31, 2019

Throwback Thursday - My Favorite Belting

It's #ThrowbackThursday again - i.e. I'm up early enough to snip a little low-def video from another Naughty Abby Spanking Video, 2008's "Time for the Belt." This is the same clip I'm posting to Twitter, but....

Check out the original post Doctor When? for what I thought about this video at the time, and a not very well-hidden treasure if you enjoyed the 30-second clip. Fun Fact: Even in 2008 there was still some question as to whether spankings on film were "real," as I reference something about that in the post. Good thing we've all become porn stars since then and we all know that what we're doing on film is what we're doing in real life. And having fun doing it!

Wednesday, January 30, 2019

Hello, Voyeur

I claimed the title of Exhibitionist/Voyeur for my own last week. After a lifetime of writing and talking about spanking and sex, after more than a decade of posting pics to show off my ass, whether a blank canvas or a masterpiece of markings and a glimpse of drippy wet naughty bits, I announced bravely from the privacy of the bathtub to Mr. W, “I’m finally saying it. I’m an exhibitonist, and obviously a voyeur too. I’m owning it. This is me.” Duh. It was a little anticlimactic. I’ve always know that I wanted to stand out, and I’ve always wanted to connect with others over kink. Most of my life, I haven’t allowed myself to do so, but it’s been engrained from the start. I have new readers, so many of you haven’t heard my stories of sitting around with friends and neighborhood kids at my yellow and orange Playskool plastic picnic table, asking them to tell me about their spankings. Most would, eager to share their experiences. We were kids, so it was hand spankings, mom’s wooden spoons, and the very rare and shocking daddy’s belt. Boy did I wonder about that last one, it sounded so mean and intense. Sometimes we moved on before it was my turn and I was relieved, or if we got to me I’d make something up. I’d never been spanked. All I had were their real life experiences and my fantasies about them. All these kids really knew about me regarding spanking was that I was fascinated, perhaps obsessed. As just an innocent seven year old, I was given a lead role in the annual second grade Thanksgiving play, which was always a big deal in my school. I was cast as Mother in “Back to the Future at the Garrison House.” It was 1985 and “Back to the Future” had been the hit movie that summer, so naturally, our play was about time-traveling to the 17th century. Wild West my butt, Back to the Future III. We did it first and we took it farther back. In my colonial New England town, we had two historical buildings that were named for what they were - The Little Red Schoolhouse and The Garrison House. Later in town history, we built a ginger ale factory and named it after the town - Chelmsford Ginger Ale. Pilgrims - not great with making ginger ale or at naming things, considering the town name itself is a town in England, as are pretty much all the other townnames in Massachusetts, except for those with Native American origins. One thing about growing up in a colonial town with colonial events and “growing up colonial” history lessons is that you can’t avoid corporal punishment, especially when talking about school or how children should behave at home. I already knew from children’s literature that spanking was to be expected as a part of life - who didn’t want to be whipped by Pa’s strap in “Little House in the Big Woods,” or take a turn as “The Whipping Boy?” Then I had my friends and neighbors confirming my suspicions. Spanking was already everywhere for this little bookworm and schoolgirl voyeur. So what’s a girl to do when she finds out she’s playing a Pilgrim Mama and this is her big line in the school play? “GET TO BED CHILDREN, OR IT WILL BE THE SWITCH FOR YOU!!!” I had to say this to my friends, my classmates! In my black and white pilgrim dress and bonnett, clapping my hands after the line to indicate the sound of impending smacking. I knew what a switch was, knew it was birch, knew my children would have had to go outside and cut the branch themselves. I get shivers remembering, and I get shivers telling you about it now. As I begin to explore switching and femdom, I feel like that little girl all over again, wanting so desperately to be spanked, standing up in front of the world and saying the opposite, knowing deep down it’s just as true. Ever since that play, when I felt exposed to but not actually seen by my school, my teachers, and my family, I have wanted nothing more than to be exposed and seen daily. I think I’ve been screaming since I was seven, “Will someone please see me for who I truly am?” I grew up smart and weird, polite and awkward, fitting in everywhere and nowhere. I found boyfriends to play at play spanking by the time I was an older teen, but until Mr. W, I never did feel fully seen. Once we’d played, I also knew I’d never been fully spanked until he came along. My life since then has been figuring out just how much a person needs to be seen. How much I need to be seen. Is one person knowing who you truly are enough? Can you live a life doing your best impersonation of yourself, and every now and again you get to be the complete you, only to tuck her away again, polite and tidy? Your friends might have a little piece, the internet might have a little anonymous piece, your family probably doesn’t know a damn thing about you. Do you even know yourself, if you spend so little time with the real you? Over the course of adulthood, I stopped knowing myself, and eventually lost myself completely. No, I didn’t just stop knowing myself - I hated the me I thought I was. Every now and again I’d pop out and how up here on the blog, but it got to the point where even Mr. W wasn’t getting to see the me that any of us know and love. Fortunately, when I feel good, I really love myself and I think I have an absolute treasure trove of knowledge, passion, compassion, and enthusiasm to share here, in the world of kink, and in the world at large. That is why it still feels powerful to say that three years ago, I started myself on a path to get myself back, which began with five days in a behavioral health facility (a mental hospital) in January 2016. It has been an absolute fight to be the me who writes this today, but here I am, about to turn forty-one, and for the first time, more than ever in my life, I feel seen on a daily basis. Most importantly, I see and love myself. Every. Single. Day. Mr. W has loved every version of me because he knows that it’s always been me on the inside. I can finally look back on my life and love every version of me too, because whether I’ve been in hibernation, incubation, or secret old spanking videos, it’s all led to now, Abby standing on her little red soapbox, announcing this, that, and the other thing. I’m publishing this! I’m selling that! I’m getting spanked! I’m writing smut! And here’s my butt! Hello, Voyeur. I’m Abby, Exhibitionist. Voyeur. Spanko. Monogamous kink player. Erotica writer. Vintage smut librarian and purveyor of filth. Ass worshipper and worshippee. Goddess. Seven year old Abby was ashamed and embarrassed of listening to her school friends’ spanking stories and threatening to thrash them on stage. Forty-one year old Abby is proud and literally aroused to say the world is her stage and she is ready to be its star. That’s how good it feels to say this to anyone willing to listen/read/watch/experience. I am so happy you’re here. I couldn’t do any of this without you. I definitely couldn’t have made it here without Mr. W. I love you more than anything, Mister. Thank you for walking beside me when we are balanced, carrying me when I fall, and celebrating me when I rise. I wouldn’t have anywhere near as sexy a story to tell without you.

Monday, January 21, 2019

Started as a Bottom Now I'm Here

With plans only to tease, delight, and explore, I took Mr. W over my lap on Saturday night. I was on the bed, propped up with pillows behind me. He lay across my legs, head on my left, bottom directly before me, bare cock pressed to the tops of my thighs.

I ran my left hand up and down his back, taking moments to massage the areas I know are always most sore, while massaging his glutes with my right. Despite knowing he wanted all my attention on his bottom, I took breaks to reach over with both hands to knead his shoulders and run my knuckles alongside his spine, gently pressing out the tightness and discomfort of a long day working at the computer. His back needed the attention as much as his butt and I was taking care of him, whether he liked it or not.

Eventually, though, I couldn't resist the sweet little globes he was presenting to me and I began to playfully tap his cheeks with a series of tiny little smacks to each side. Three in a row, taptaptap! Each side would get a few rounds of those, then rubs. Four in a row, tap-tap-taptap! A couple rounds, and more rubs and loves. All the way up to rounds of six little spanks to each cheek.

The playful smacks weren't even enough to turn him pink but he'd done well, keeping his bottom up and centered, letting me explore without wiggling, letting me smack him at all -

- after all, am I not usually the bottom in all this? Isn't it usually my butt getting the spanks, and much harder ones at that? Dear Reader, you are not alone in your surprise and possible wonderment at this scene as it plays out (unless you read Rosy Reset Button the other day, in which case you might have guessed round two was coming).

We are exploring different roles in our play. I am exploring the idea of femdom, especially "gentle femdom," (#gdf)  which I will write more about as I work through countless new feelings and fantasies. I am going through a sexual Renaissance of a sort. Everything is new and exciting and I suddenly really want to spank Mr. W, to enjoy him worshiping me and my body, and to honor him equally but in a new power relationship during sex play.

Since he'd done so well with the initial playful smacks, I wanted to give him a reward. I began to massage that most sensitive spot between his cheeks, rubbing tiny circles to coax the the tight wrinkly hole open. I leaned forward and kissed the top of his crack sloppily, letting a pool of saliva gather, then rubbing it down the length of the crack and using it to lubricate just the tip of my index finger.

As I pressed against the spot, he moaned and arched, letting me in. A careful visitor, I continued to circle and tease him, allowing his body to take me in rather than force my way, and soon he'd taken the full length of the finger inside his body. With  my left hand squeezing his ass cheeks, I slowly and gently allowed the finger to continue the massage from the inside.

After a short time, I pulled out and asked him if he was ready for me to spank him again. "Are you ready for more spanking?" I asked. "You can earn another round of those touches."

"Yes please," he answered from his throat, his voice deep, barely audible, evidently lustful.

"A little harder this time?"

"Yes please," he said again.

I didn't want to just go at it and make him hurt. I  wanted to build up a nice, warm, buzzy sensation. I began with single smacks to the curve of the bottom of each cheek, upward strokes allowing my palm to land right in that sweet spot then glide in a quick light glide over the rest of his ass. Smack and feathery tease. Back and forth I spanked, building a little warmth, a little pink, and when my hand began to feel a little warm too I rubbed his bottom vigorously. "Well done, well done," I whispered.

After I few moments to assure any sting remaining from the skin-to-skin contact had abated, I returned to the rhythm, smacking a fraction harder and leaving out the feathery touches. It wasn't hard, but in that moment I was spanking him and it felt incredible. He was under my power and he was trembling with pleasure. Endorphins and dopamine flowed. Back and forth, my hand found its happy home again and again. I found myself fantasizing about moving to a chair and taking him back over my lap, small paddle in hand, to continue the spanking and take him to the next sensory level.

Once again, when the light sting of his flesh against my palm signaled that he had warmed satisfactorily, I ceased spanking and rubbed, massaged, and kissed the whole - and the hole - of his backside. Salivating against the now not-so-tight little button, I murmured with my mouth full, "Ready?" Soon I had him gently but nonetheless impaled again on my index finger, sliding it in easily, crooking the tip of my finger to massage his prostate. "That's it," I whispered, encouraging him to melt into me loving him. "That's it, you beautiful man."

I was so ready for him to be inside me, but this time was for him. I made no move to change things up, but soon he indicated he was ready to change positions. As much as I wanted to keep playing with his ass, I hoped he was ready to fuck.

If you did read Rosy Reset Button, you'll know that this is my second time this past week attempting to allow myself to be "in charge" while giving Mr. W sensual attention. I may be exploring the idea of femdom, but I'm starting with just putting the focus on him, the same way he puts the focus on me when he is spanking and dominating me, and also giving myself permission to guide the scene. In Rosy Reset Button, we hadn't set the nature of our playtime first so he didn't realize that I was viewing myself as in charge. This time, I had thought the parameters were in place just by the act of what we'd been doing, but our usual personas showed up and created some awkward confusion.

I like to share even the sexy scenes that go awry because we are all human, and sometimes things go wrong when we're naked. It doesn't mean WE are wrong, or bad, or failures. It's easy to attach shame to our self-view when we don't get sex right, but the truth is, really great sex is a little bit lucky timing, a little skill, and an absolute ton of self knowledge. We can learn about ourselves and our partners by practicing, and what better activity to have to practice than sex?

As he got up, he leaned forward and kissed me between the legs. It seemed exactly the right act for him to fall into next and I opened my legs for further pussy-licking attention. At the same time, he realized just how dripping wet I was. A wet spot had formed where I'd been sitting with him over my lap. A large, wet, ready for it right now wet spot. My juices, before he went down to kiss me, had webbed my thighs.

"Young lady!" he admonished. He stopped kissing my clit and pulled back into a sitting position. Then he smacked that wet pussy! It was fucking hot. My pussy throbbed and it was probably a visible clench and release. He smacked it again, then again. It all happened very quickly and as soon as I was beyond aroused my brain kicked in. "Hey lady, weren't you in charge a moment ago?" My brain demanded explanation even as Mr. W began slapping the insides of my thighs.

I was so very wet at having spanked Mr. W, even lightly, even for play, and now all the control had been wrenched from my hands. The hands that had been powerful one moment were now pushed away from protecting my thighs. "How dare you get so wet, so aroused?" Mr. W, the character, wanted to know. I was his naughty little girl, the scene and relationship so familiar. Maybe he was my Daddy, punishing me for my lasciviousness. Maybe he was my Sir, in control of my body and I was aroused without permission. One thing I was NOT was a domme.

I burst into tears.

Crying after a spanking is pretty normal, and something I've done a gazillion times. Are you supposed to cry when you're the spanker though? And when you've barely done any spanking? I thought not.

I had thought myself the great protector and sexy sensual guide. Next thing you know, Mr. W has his arms tightly around me, he's leaned forward, his weight on my torso, his head on my shoulder, his breath as he pulls me close on my neck, my chin, my cheek, my ear. "I've got you," he whispered. As he always does when I need him, once I feel lost and unstable. "I've got you."

We talked then. I had a chance to explain that I'd been feeling really good and proud of myself, taking charge, trying something new with confidence, only to internalize the chastisement of the pussy and thigh slapping as a sign that me wanting to dominant him, even in play, was bad and a punishable offense. I felt tricked. I didn't feel that he had played me. It felt like the universe had teased me with strength and then took it all away.

"God no!" he answered. "You were so incredibly wet. Did you see this puddle?" He made me look at the spot soaked through the sheet. "You were that wet from touching and spanking me. It was so fucking hot. I just went for it." I was not in trouble with him or the universe after all.

We talked and laughed. We didn't get back to sex that night, favoring instead the connection we found emotionally and mentally afterward my tears. Mr. W has always been my top and switching to spanking and punishing me during sex was normal for him in that moment, so when he was turned on by how turned on I was, it just came naturally. Meanwhile, I'm trying something new and am learning that until it comes as second nature - as whipping my thighs and pussy does for Mr. W - I'm going to need to set up what I want for the scene ahead of time, which is advice I would give to anyone just exploring a new kink.

And in really fantastic news, now we know just how much spanking Mr. W seriously turns me on. Now I need to practice.

Saturday, January 19, 2019

The Way We Play - Erotic Spanking Vignettes by N. Abby Williams

The "N" is for Naughty!

Everybody, I did it! For ages I've been meaning to put together a collection of some of my favorite blog posts and release a collection that captures both the sexiness and the love that Mr. W and I put into our relationship and TTWD.

I've released it on Amazon for $1.49 as the first title from my very own spanking publishing house, TLRS Press. You can expect new never-before-read works from me soon. Someday, I hope to be publishing you as well!

These are the 12 posts included in The Way We Play, with links to the original posts. Take a free preview or read them all. If you choose to buy the collection on Amazon, I truly appreciate your patronage. Your support means more spanking goodness to come!

Caught Wet Handed (sorry, can't find the original link)