Feet Spanking

Feet Spanking
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Most people think of sandals as fashionable, comfortable footwear which for the most part they are. However my husband knows their OTHER function as a tool of discipline as I have taken most of my sandals to his backside at one point or another. I LOVE wearing sandals and have a lot of them. Judging by his reaction and the marks left on his butt, I know that some of them hurt much more than others. Different sandals have different weights and flexibility. Plus the material and design of the soles dictate the level of sting and pain that they can deliver. I notice a substantial improvement in the behavior of my husband whenever I’m wearing one of my “meaner” pair of sandals. Yes…ladies, just WEARING certain sandals will improve his attitude and behavior. Of course you have to consistently put in the work beforehand so he understands that there is a very real possibility that you could take that sandal to him later that day/night if he acts up. I love walking around with mini-incognito-spanking-paddles on my feet. Below are some of the different types of sandals I have along with some additional insight on each.
There are leather sandals that hurt like hell and leather sandals that don’t really hurt that much at all. And of course, some in between. A pair of all leather sandals like the one shown on the right has some good weight to it and some flexibility. That’s a dangerous combination for a bare backside that has gotten itself into trouble.
I have a pair just like these and he’s gotten spanked with them several times. He’s smart enough to realize that when I have these on, I WILL take one off at a moments notice, should I have to address his attitude. That’s the nice thing about basic thong sandals like this; so easy and fast to take off. I also have some sandals with a very thin leather sole. The ones with a thinner sole don’t sting that much and as is the case, they don’t leave a lasting impression.
Nothing says “sting” like a heavy plastic soled sandal. Like the ones I’m wearing in the picture and shown in greater detail below. They were actually a cheap pair of sandals that I bought at a Payless while on vacation (I had forgotten to pack one of my black pairs to go with an outfit). Anyway, they are particularly mean as they have some weight to them and some flexibility. This is one of the pairs of evil sandals that I know he always would take note of when I would wear them because he knew I could reduce him to tears with them. I speak of wearing them in the past tense because they broke a couple summers ago.
All jelly sandals I’ve owned, have been introduced to my husband’s bare butt. And from his reaction…most of them sting pretty good. But like all sandals, some hurt more than others. Again, it comes down to thickness, weight and flexibility. Jelly sandals like the ones shown here, will provide a very red bottom and a nasty sting that will make your husband behave whenever he hears you clicking around in them. I don’t wear them often as they are not the most comfortable sandals to wear but if I’m going to be out but not doing a lot of walking, I’ll don a pair. They are also great to wear them when it rains as the rain obviously isn’t going to damage them like they could a pair of leather sandals. Another bonus about these is that you can find jelly sandals that hurt for cheap!
Oh ladies…Have I got a tip for you! The trick that can make a majority of sandals hurt 4 or 5 times as much, is to spank with the heel of the sandal. Most sandals have an extra wedge or a flat stacked heel.
This additional density and weight increases the sting exponentially . It also makes a little less of a sound as there is less area contacting the butt. But even though each swat is smacking a smaller area on his backside, the amplified pain he’ll be receiving, will make the tradeoff very worthwhile, as severe pain = lesson learned.
However, spanking with the heel of a sandal requires you to hold the sandal around the toes area. This can be a little difficult if you have smaller hands or if the sandal has a larger width at the toes area.
If that is the case, you can do a couple things. One is to just grip it by the toe part as best you can and swing away. Not the easiest to hold onto but it’ll work in a pinch.
Buy a cheap pair of sandals (ones where the sole has some nice weight and flexibility to them). Another Wicked Queen Tip: Go looking near the end of Summer, as most sandals will be on clearance. I’ve gotten some very mean sandals for less than $5! Then tell your husband to make what will become known as a sandal paddle. This is done by cutting a handle into the widest part of the sandal bed so you will have a handle and then can grip it with ease. You’ll quickly see that spanking him with the heel of the sandal will get more of a reaction from him as the pain is tremendously amplified.
I used to give him spankings with it holding it in the regular fashion and don’t get me wrong, it taught him some pretty good lessons. But one day I walked by the sandals by my bed and accidentally kicked one of them partially under my night stand the heel half was under the nightstand and the toe post half was peeking out. When I reached down and picked it up by the toe, I instantly felt the weight that was on the other end and my evil mind knew right away, that the next time he was getting a spanking, he was going to get it with the heel. Then I made him cut out a “handle” for me in and viola! The sandal paddle was born! Sure I could never wear them again but 1) I bought them for less that $5 and for the “sole” purpose of spanking him with them. 2) I was just wearing them around the house anyways. It was totally worth it and now it is in my collection of wicked spanking implements.
Sandal shopping for me has taken on a whole new level of fun. Of course I want something that is comfortable and fashionable. But now I always look for something that has that little extra component to it. I wonder if anyone has caught a glimpse of me tapping/smacking a sandal on my hand in the shoe department?
Last but not least, make sure to check out my post on Sandal Associations . A wonderful concept I came up with where the spanking implement I am going to use on my husband, is foretold by the sandals on my feet. This has worked wonders when we’ve been out and about, as all I have to do is click or dangle my sandal, and Joey will receive the message loud and clear. Or…he’ll FEEL the message loud and clear when we get home.

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Spankings were quite common in the 1960s. This is a true story from 1963.
In July 1963, my family went on a road trip, and my sister Katherine and I got into a shouting match which led to pinching, hitting, and kicking. I was 13, and Katherine had just turned 15 the week before. Katherine and I fought a lot in those days. I was jealous of her because she was very pretty, blond with hazel eyes, and had always been popular at school, whereas I was more nerdy, a bit on the chubby side, wore glasses, and had a hard time making friends, facts that Katherine took great pleasure in rubbing in my face.
I don’t remember what we were fighting about that particular day, but we had been at each other’s throats nonstop. My parents warned us to cut it out, but we didn’t. My dad gave us several more warnings.
The last warning was, “I’m going to pull this car over and spank the next one who your mother or I hear or see fighting!”
Our parents hadn’t spanked either one of us in over two years, so I don’t think we took the threat seriously. We were both quiet for about a minute, and then out of nowhere, my sister slapped me on the face and pulled my hair, which led to another mini back seat brawl.

“Damn it!” My dad swerved the car over to the side of the road and slammed on the brakes. “Katherine, I warned you, young lady! Didn’t I? My dad angrily got out of the car and slammed the door behind him. He opened the back door on the side where Katherine was sitting and he yanked her out of the car. My sister immediately started yelling, apologizing and pleading.
“No! Please! No! I’m sorry! Please. I won’t hit Ellie again! Please! I promise! NO! Not here! Please, I’m too old!”
I looked outside of the window and I saw my dad taking off his belt. Oh, this was too good to be true. Katherine was going to get just what she deserved!
I tried to watch, but my dad took her into the woods behind some trees with thick leaves blocking most of the view. My sister was loud so I could hear her screams.
“NO! PLEASE DAD NO! NOT THE BELT! NOT THE BELT! PLEASE! I’M SORRY! I’LL BE GOOD! I PROMISE! NO! NO PLEASE! STOP! NO! I’M TOO OLD! STOP! DON’T TAKE THEM OFF!”
Through the leaves I could see the bottom of my sister’s and father’s legs, and I saw my sister’s yellow pants yanked down to her feet and then my father pulled her to the ground where they were mostly out of view. All I could make out were her sneakers trying to kick but were restrained by her pants being wrapped down around her ankles.
“Please don’t! I’m too old! No! NO! Please! Please don’t pull them down! KEEP THEM UP! Please not here! DON’T!”
Then I heard the unmistakable sound of my dad’s leather belt slapping against bare skin. The screaming became howls, and then loud cries, which meant that my dad’s belt was hard at work.
Katherine and I had both gotten the belt a few times in our childhood. If we were wearing pants or shorts he would tell us to pull them down, or if we were wearing a skirt he would flip it up, then put us over his knee and pull our panties down. Then he would fold his belt in half and give us a few whacks with it, usually between 5 to 10, and boy it hurt! I don’t think our dad has ever given us more than 10 licks with the belt, but this time Katherine was definitely getting more. I wasn’t counting the number of slaps but they seemed to go on for over a minute, and Katherine’s wailing became more agonizing. I went from feeling happy that she was getting punished to feeling sorry for her.
After what seemed like an eternity, my dad and sister returned to the car. Dad still had his belt in his hand.
“Katherine, I don’t want to hear a peep out of you! Now get in the car!”
My sister was sobbing and sniffling, and her neatly brushed blonde hair was now a wild mess with pieces of leaves embedded in it. With one hand my sister opened the car door, while with the other she was clutching her bottom. I noticed that her pants were still unbuttoned, and her zipper was down, but I thought I should wisely keep my mouth shut. Her cheeks were tear-stained and wet from crying and were bright red, blushing probably from embarrassment. What could be more humiliating for a 15-year-old girl than a bare bottom spanking? Katherine closed the door behind her and sat down, shifting from side to side like she was having a hard time getting comfortable.
As my father restarted the car, my mother turned around in her seat and lovingly looked over at her, handed her a tissue and said, “Katherine, I’m sorry that you were spanked at your age, but you were warned several times.”

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