The Wooden Spoon

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Wooden slotted spoon for BDSM play.

The large wooded slotted spoon I bought a long time ago. Seemed natural for something like testicle tapping.

Little did I know

It has quite an impact. Having learned how sensitive my nipples are the hot ouchy swat wasn’t a big surprise. But when it slapped into my butt it was a shock.

That spoon hurts (and being me I had to buy the spoon with slots).

It is about as heavy a wooden spoon as I’ve seen. Not sure how long the poor thing will survive in Alexandra’s hands.

An effective an inexpensive pervertable.

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When I participated in a forum where subs discussed which toy they hate, the wooden spoon came up.

A friend of mine had severe bruises on her breasts which lasted most of a week from less than 10 strokes with one.

My current pet had enough trouble taking the spoon I used on him (plain wood with a hole in it—intended, I suppose, as an alternative to a whisk), he asked afterwards if it had been electrified.

I have a lot of respect for spoons.

Ah, thank you so much for sharing that. That spoon left me feeling like a wimp.

I personally won’t ever be looking at spoons in quite the same way again :)

The reasons you mentioned are precisely why it is the best implement. It’s the most severe.

Not only is the spoon, especially those with holes, painful, but what a wonderful reminder when it just sits there, in plain sight, in the container where we have of five or six such implments, ostensibly for cooking, but which we know can be immeditely applied to my bottom.

I enjoy your site. My mistress wife punishes me with the wooden spoon. When I am naughty she takes down my trousers and pants, pulls me across her knees and wallops my bare behind with the spoon. She scolds me as she spanks me. Then I’m put in the corner for a time before apologising for being so naughty and making her cross with me. I love my mistress wife.

I reckon Greg deserves the spankings he gets. I know I do. My lovely darling makes me undress completely when I am to be punished. She has a wooden spoon about eighteen inches long; I remember the day she picked it out in the supermarket. As she put it into the trolley she turned and gave me a real sly grin. “It’s for you” she whispered. When I’m naked I am told to go and get our little wooden friend. That’s what she calls it. When I hand it to her she asks me what it is for and I have to say, “For you to spank me with, ma’am”. Then she asks me what I am to be punished for and I have to say what bad things I’ve done, or not done. Sometimes she bends me over her knees and spanks me. Other times I’m made to stand still in the middle of the room with my arms folded across my chest and she stands and whips my buttocks. I’m not allowed to move while I’m being spanked. Sometimes it’s very hard but if I move I get another session later on or the next day. I know I always deserve my punishments. Barby isn’t cruel, she’s very fair and I love her dearly; and I sort of like being spanked.

I am furious, so angry, so very angry. I am Wayne’s wife. How dare he tell the whole world about our private life! How dare he! How I found out about it was pure chance. When I got home last night after my keep fit class Wayne was on the phone in the kitchen. I noticed the light in his den was on and went to switch it off thinking that’s worth a few slaps on the bum, wasting electricity. We’re very conscious of wasting energy. When I switched the light off I noticed the light from the computer screenand out of curiousity read what he had been looking at. It was your website. It was his account of our life. I could hardly believe my eyes. When he came off the phone he came into the den and saw that I had found out. He went red in the face and stammered and stuttered about it being a bit of fun. I reminded him that we had both sworn we’d never tell anybody else about how I spank him. I feel so humiliated knowing that people know. He tried to say there are hundreds of couples called Wayne and Barbara in the world and after all it is the worldwideweb. I told him that was nonsense, that everybody would know it was us. Anyway I gave him a good spanking last night with the wooden spoon (he even told you that I call it our little wooden friend)on his bare bum for not switching off the light when he leaves the room,and told him I’d deal with his disloyalty this evening. I decided he deserved more than the spoon and told him to buy a cane on his way home from work today, a proper old-fashioned cane with a proper hook and he wasn’t to come home without it. I’ll teach him to tell the whole world our business. I have always turned a blind eye to his looking at soft porn but this time he went too far. And by the way I think a lot of the stuff on your website if stupid fantasy. I wouldn’t be cruel to Wayne but he’s in for a good old-fashioned caning this evening and that’ll teach him. God but I’m so angry with him. Yours B.

Hi Richard, I sure enjoyed reading Barby’s letter. If I made my mistress wife as mad as that I’d be shaking in my shoes. Wayne was real dumb to mention her name. That’s why I never mention my wife’s name, that’s why I call her my mistress wife. She’d be as mad as Barby if I did. Got to say though I think Barby’s a bit paranoid if she thinks anyone would be able to identify them from what was written. I think Wayne’s right in thinking their cover hasn’t be blown. But that’s women for you! Barby, if you ever read this do let us know what you did with that cane. I can’t leave myself alone just thinking about it. The idea of an angry woman with a cane in her hand just turns me on like crazy. Greg

Just came across your site this afternoon. Fascinating stuff. I always thought that I was the only man in the world who got spanked by his wife for misbehaving. It started just after we married. We were driving to the supermarket one Saturday afternoon to do the week’s shopping. When I was parking in the parking lot this stupid dame drove straight at me, she just stopped in time and did not actually hit me. When I got out of the car she had parked and I gave her a right good tongue lashing. The silly cow started to cry. My wife comforted her and told her I didn’t really mean it. Then she gave me a good telling off, told me I was a bully, all that sort of thing. I don’t mind telling you I was flabberghasted. I was in the right and I was told off as if I’d been the one in the wrong. And she just wouldn’t listen to reason. Must admit I sulked all the time we were shopping. At one point she told me to go and find a large wooden spoon. I told her we had one at home. She said it wasn’t big enough and repeated her request. As I went off I heard her call out ‘a good heavy one’. I didn’t know what she wanted it for. Soon found out. After we got home and had put the things away she told me I had been very rude to the woman, like a badly reared teenager, a real brat. As she was scolding me she pulled out one of the kitchen chairs , sat on it and called me over to her. She stood me on one side of her and started to undo my belt. Before I knew what was happening my pants and briefs were down at my ankles. She then announced that she was going to spank me for the naughty little boy I was. She ordered me over her knee. I told her not to be silly. She just said, ‘Over my knee. Now!’ I didn’t move and she just sat there looking up at me. Her face was set in a way I hadn’t seen before. She was saying with her body language that she expected to be obeyed. It must sound silly but after some minutes with her looking at me, saying nothing, and me standing beside her with my pants roung my feet I gave in. I lowered myself across my yung wife’s lap. She pulled my shirt up, held me very firmly, reached for the new wooden spoon, complimented me on the weight of it, and started to slap my butt with it. She gave me a real hard spanking. I found myself saying that I was sorry, that i’d never talk like that again, and asking her to please stop. Eventually she did and I was allowed up. She told me to go and stand in the corner and not to move until I was told to. I did what I was told. I don’t know why. It just seemed to happen. It set a pattern. That was twenty years ago. Now I know that if I misbehave I’ll be spanked with the wooden spoon on my bare arse. It’s very sore. I don’t like being spanked. I don’t know why I allow it. Even while the children were growing up I was still spanked when she thought I deserved it. Now the kids don’t know that their Mom spanks me. She never does it when any of them is around. It’s a bit strange to know that there are other husbands who get spanked by their wives. I’ don’t know if I should let her know about it. It might give her ideas. I should sure as hell hate to be beaten with a cane. Marty

Happened to find your site today. Didn’t know there was all this stuff on the web about spanking. Like those other fellas I thought I was the only man in the whole world who allowed himself to be beaten by his wife. My wife’s a school teacher in an English private school. The kids get caned there. She brought one of the canes home. When I annoy her I’m told to take my trousers down and bend over the back of the kitchen chair. She then pulls down my pants and gives me six of the best on my bare bum. It hurts like hell! When I get up I apologise to her and she says I may get dressed again. I hope she never hears about this corner time lark. M

Richard, old boy, Your website was mentioned in my club the other day. It’s a big site. Jolly interesting. Thought you’d like to know my wife has been slapping my bare bottom with her wooden spoon, over her knee, for over thirty years now. What’s more, my life-long pal, John, gets the wooden spoon and the cane when he is naughty. Would you believe we are sometimes both beaten at the same time. The first time that happened was shortly after we were married. The wife and I had been invited over to John’s for dinner. Well, I think we’d both had a little too much of the whisky and were a bit bawdy. The girls were very cross. Well, before we knew it, we were across our respective wives laps, trousers down, bare bottoms up, if you see what I mean. We both got a good going over with the wooden spoon and made to stand facing the wall for the rest of the evening. When it was time to call it a night we were each made to bend over the back of the couch and given three swipes of the cane on the bare bum. Hate the cane, always did. Hope you find this to be of some interest.


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