The Good Ol' Days Revisited (and A Modern Technical Question)

I consider myself computer literate; often times probably more computer literate than English literate in fact. I based that on the frequency on which I am misunderstand during a conversation vs. how often I am the one able to solve computer related issue. Regardless of how often my spoken intent is misunderstood, unintentionally offending countless young ladies by merely asking them simple questions related to their attitudes and their bottoms… well that can be a whole other post in of itself. 

Back to my point, this quite Sunday morning I am stuck on the following Blogger, aka tech, related issue:

Comment Notifications:

When I comment on a fellow blogger's blog, I check the "Notify Me" box in order to receive follow up messages. Well that feature doesn't seem to be functioning any longer; for at least the past month. I have used various blogs and used various browsers all with the same result - no follow up emails; when in fact they are there when I revisit that particular blogpost.  I tend to bounce around from blog to blog, commenting here and there, and would love to keep track and/or up with these comments using that feature as it was intended.

Can anybody offer any ideas of why this no longer works? 

Anyone else having similar issues? 

I know this is a minor, modern day problem; nothing generations past would have had to worry about. No, Sir.  Sunday mornings were simpler then so I am told. Sunday mornings were not met with any new fangled technical, space-age issues.  Everything was simpler then apparently. If something was broken or not working, there was always one sure way to fix it. GIve it a good firm slap.

With that in mind I am sure none of you cam here to offer your Tech Support as your primary intent;. therefore I offer you a morning gift. A gift of another installment peek into the "good ol'days". If you don't remember my first installment, or never read it in the first place, start the story on this page and then come back here.

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Buzz. 
Buzzz. BUUZZZZZ! 

BUuuuuuuZZZZZ!

The door bell rang urgently hardly giving the young bride anytime to put herself together. She had just stood up and was wrestling with her tight sheer panties; struggling to pull them up. In fact, she was no where close to putting her tight skirt back down around her throbbing pink bottom when the front door suddenly swung open. She leapt off her feet and shrieked at the sound of someone rushing through the open door and turned around in shock only to offer the intruder an eyeful of her feminine charm.

"Mrs. Larsen! Wwhaa…What are you doing here?!" she asked fumbling to push down her skirt in a failed attempt at modesty.

"I heard you two arguing and I just had to come over, dear. When I saw how that brute beat your ass, I just couldn't let you pout alone" the experienced housewife rushed to her younger, instant girlfriend's side; leaving the door wide open.

"Mrs. Larsen you saw us?! You saw Jimmy sss…spa…spanking me?" the young lady let go off her skirt as she immediately fisted her palms tight and pulled them to her face in realization of what she had just heard. In realization of her humiliation being raised to another level knowing that not only had it occurred, but that it had been witnessed.

"No need for formalities; we are neighbors dear. Call me Beth." Beth offered as she put her arm around the girl's waist and escorted her back towards the scene of the chastisement.

 "Oh, don't worry dear, you aren't the first bride to have her bottom blistered. It happens to more of us than you think; well at least in our younger days it did. Like you, when we were first married." She explained as she sat herself down on the chair that Jimmy had only minutes earlier occupied; leaving the newlywed standing in front of her struggling to pull up her panties, back up towards their presumed proper place.

"Now don't pull those back on dear. That's entirely the wrong thing to do. Put those down and let's sooth that bottom" she explained slapping the embarrassed bride's hand away from the delicate undergarment. And in much the same way he had done, she grabbed the young bride's hand and pulled her close.

The bride gasped and attempted to pull away.

"Whhaaa…what are you doing? What do you mean?"

"I know you want to put those on and cover your embarrassment. They are pretty and all; Neiman Marcus intimates? Expensive no doubt." Beth stopped to admire the sheer panties closely. "But based on the size of these dainty things, compared to your bottom, they most certainly will sting if you pull them back on entirely. You have to let your ass air out for some time. But don't you worry, I brought something to cool the sting."

"Air out my…" the young housewife's face blushed redder than her bottom as she listened in shock to the older more experienced housewife rattle on.

"Oh. I apologize. Did I offend you dear?" she asked pulling the junior lady towards her closer yet. "I like to say I picked up that foul language from Dan and his Navy ways; but honestly it is what happens after all those years of raising little ones and nonstop domestic management. Not to say I'm not grateful. I mean I am grateful for what Dan has given me and no doubt, obviously I'm more grateful than you from the looks of things…" Beth continued on sizing up the contents of the newlyweds' home while sizing up the bride's attitude which she surmised might have led to her husband's justified forced actions.

"Excuse me Mrs. Larsen, what in heaven's are you implying? I deserve nice things; all this – and more in fact! I am an up-and-coming lady of this town; you have no right..." the bride stomped her heeled foot in offense.

"You deserve something that is for sure. That you do, you upity lil'..." 
And before the young bride could utter another word in protest, Beth reached around the bride's youthful waist. With seemingly well practiced coordination, yanked the upscale undergarment back down again. In the process, Beth intentionally allowing one of her long fingernails to latch onto the delicate full back panties and let it drag down. The thin sheer nylon laddered easily.

She lowered the young lady's feminine flag to half-mast, resting them around her healthy thick thighs where they caught above her stocking tops. Then before she could even vocalize a protest, Beth had dragged her new neighbor over her lap with her skirt pulled high.

"Now this creme, it is called Desitin, can be found at the corner drugstore. I recommend you get the large tube from the looks of you; it can be found near the diaper section." Beth explained matter of factly as she held the freshly spanked bride down with one hand, while she uncapped the medicinal tube with her thumb and forefinger of her other hand.

"What! What is that? In the diaper section?" The bride kicked and whined while Beth held her in place.

"Oh don't be embarrassed dear. Mr Robinson, the pharmacist, won't ask you about it. He might stare at you funny knowing full well you don't have a family yet, but if you go today or tomorrow he might not have heard about your marital matters. Not yet. Can't guarantee anything later this week, as gossip...I mean…concerned news…travels fast in this neighborhood. Now stay still, this might be cold."

The bride kicked her feet in a frenzy glaring up at her newest punisher.

"Now I am only trying to help dear. Please don't kick; you just might hurt me" No sooner had she said it, when she felt a boney knee dig into her thigh.

Shaking her head in disbelief, Beth put the tube down and raised her hand and delivered a single open palm slap on the girl's still tender bottom.

"Owww! What are you doing?!"

"Now that was for the kicking. I am here to help; now let's get some of this cream on you shall we."

With that, Beth delivered another singular slap for good measure and to even out the fresh redness of both cheeks. She then began spreading Desitin liberally over the top of the girl's jiggly cheeks as the young bride buckled repeatedly at the shock of the freezing cold cream coming in sudden contact with her warm bottom.

"There, there dear. I'll rub this into your cheeks and make it all better in no time." she explained.

The bride kicked furiously against the floor; her healed shoes pushing the shag rug out of the way.

"Really now dear. Just calm yourself. It is not that bad really. You should be grateful I'm here to help. Dan was never really good at aftercare." 

"I'm not a baby! I don't need diaper ointment! I shouldn't have been spanked! I don't need your help!"

"Really dear; that is not very being very appreciative of your neighbor's good intentions, is it?"

Frustrated, Beth stopped her rubbing and instead picked up the tube again. Except this time  she spread the girls cheeks and positioned the tube directly between them and squeezed. Out shot a thick serpent of stinging ointment; precisely bulls-eying between the girls ample rump. Beth then proceeded to push her long finger into the girls bottom, chasing the cream deep into the young bride's porcelain crevice until her finger seemingly disappeared.

"Ohhhhh! Owwwww!" the bride blurted out incoherent protests as the combination of the manicured intruder and sudden sting of the cream left her speechless, wide eyed and wide mouthed in shock.

"There, there dear. The creme doesn't sting when rubbed over a spanked bottom. It only irritates when inside. So remember young lady; next time you get spanked and I come over to console you, to offer you a shoulder to cry on, perhaps you'll be a bit more grateful. A bit more appreciative and I wont need to squirt any directly up your little spoilt asshole. Understood young lady?" 

The bride let out a whine and shook her head in acknowledgement. 

"Very good. Now get up and we'll come over to my home and I'll teach you how to cook a proper Sunday breakfast for your husband." Beth charmingly offered while shamelessly plucking her finger out of the girl's bottom with an intentional jolt.

"Holy....oowww" she began a curse she never ended feeling the sudden rush of cold cream begin its inner irritation. 

The young bride franticly pushed herself off her neighbor's lap, clenching her teeth and bottom cheeks in rapidly growing discomfort. As she steadied herself upright; her pale-pink sheer panties cascaded to her ankles. They landed spread sunny-side up, draping her white leather heels.

"Oh! What a shame; it looks like you ruined your expensive panties. I would suggest you don't tell Jimmy that your carelessness, your unnecessary struggling, wasted his money; at least not today."

The bride gasped in disbelief seeing the gapping laddered tears on her panties,  "Bbuuttt, I didn't ripp…."

"Its OK dear. 
You'll have to learn to admit your mistakes, you're a big girl now. And remember even big girls get occasional spankings and diaper cream on their arrogant, punished asses, don't they?

Well at least you didn't ruin them by soiling them like some immature brat. 

Oh wait. Look.

It looks like you did both you silly girl. 

Ripped and soiled. 

You must have "tinkled" on yourself; 
perhaps when he first threatened you with a spanking?

Oh, such a shame.
Such an embarrassing shame.

Truly humiliating some would say.
But, don't worry dear; your secrets are safe with me," 

Beth smiled her biggest, friendliest neighborly smile very much pleased with herself.

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Hope you enjoyed that story. Comments and feedback are always needed and appreciated!