This spanking story is really about its male narrator, a conceited prick who, I am sure you will agree, badly needs a spanking of his own even if you normally aren’t into guys getting spanked. The scene excerpted below involves two college girls who mix it up early in the story, but if you keep reading, the guy does indeed get the spanking he so richly deserves, from a righteously provoked cop.
Bethany screamed, sobbed, and kicked her legs up and down. She repeatedly continued to apologize and beg the black girl to stop. But nothing was stopping this spanking. This was a punishment! The black girl, without saying another word, concentrated on the spanking — maintaining her punishing stamina without interruption or letup. The only time she stopped was to pull the girl’s panties down even further — from mid-thigh to the hollow of her knees — allowing me to see her anus and vulva even easier. The black girl then immediately resumed the painful spanking as Bethany bawled and promised to be good. She actually used the words, “I’ll be good!”
“How humiliating”, I thought as I enjoyed the show. Bethany’s lovely behind was now as red a fire engine.
The girl then changed her tactic. She spanked even hard and slapped the same areas over and over — as much as ten to twelve times — before moving on to another part of Bethany’s set ablaze buttocks. Bethany was now sobbing gulping sobs. Tears were streaming down her face and wetting floor in a small little puddle. These were the sobs of a well punished young woman, being spanked by another young woman who had no respect for her as an equal. A young woman who considered Bethany, as she sobbed and cried, nothing more than a bratty little girl.
When the black girl let her up, Bethany hollered and sobbed and pain danced in front of the whole cafeteria with her panties at her ankles. She rubbed and rubbed a bottom that was now a dark scarlet. We all could see her buttocks as well as her blonde pubic hairs by the way she was carrying on. But at the moment Bethany didn’t care.
Here’s an excerpt from an erotic story in the archives of a blog called Hollow Bones. The story’s pretty rough, but interesting:
She stretched out her neck and rubbed her gag against his mouth. She wiggled her bottom seductively and tried to appear as if she liked what he was doing.
Andrew laughed at the girl. He expected this, of course, and it pleased him that she was so cunning. He reached around to her backside again, and pushed the second, larger ball in. The girl still cried, but she continued her charade. He would soon have her fighting him again. He pushed in yet another ball, and then spanked the girl soundly. That pleased him very much, and he loosened the bonds at her ankles, and lifted her up so he could slide beneath her and lower her across his lap. Now he had much better access to her bottom.
He pushed in yet another ball, leaving four still outside, waiting for their turn to be engulfed by the girl’s straining anus, and began to spank her wildly. Andrew was truly enjoying this one! She was resilient! She continued to wriggle and hump his thighs and present her bottom for more spankings, all the while soaking the pillow with her crying.
Here’s a cute little tale of piratical punishment at sea. An excerpt from the buildup:
“Beyond that door,” I said, keeping my voice level, “are thirty-seven men of no redeeming virtue. They have been away from port for seven weeks. Have not seen so much as an inch of womanflesh during that time – excepting one rather unusual cabin boy.” She glared, and I gave her that smile which reveals the gold tooth. “They have no consciences individually, let alone together. But -” I drew the key from my pocket, slotted it into the lock, turned. “I might suggest that your chances against the sharks would more favourable, but that is your choice. It will, at least, be amusing to watch,” I lied.
A while back I got an email asking me if I knew where to buy an old-fashioned carpet beater. Not a used one, or an antique; my correspondent didn’t want anything touching her buns that had previously touched dirty carpet. No, she wants a new one.
I couldn’t help her, but I did find this illustration:
If you know where to buy a new one of these infernal devices, please get in touch.
2012 update: Added a bigger picture size and can say that I now know the artist is Paula Meadows — something I did not know in 2003.
Guess whose birthday is coming up? Invidia’s! And there’s a poll: what implement should The Boss use for her birthday spanking? It’s quite a list, and so far “all of the above” is winning by a mile. Go vote!
Tristan Taormino writes in the Village Voice about her birthday spanking:
I just celebrated my birthday, and in addition to thickly frosted cupcakes from Magnolia Bakery, I indulged in another delicious tradition: the birthday spanking. Each one of my guests got the chance to administer a single smack to my rear end in honor of the day I came roaring out of my mother’s womb. Some of my pals giggled and gently swatted, while others were determined to make me scream. I don’t recall that first slap every baby is rumored to receive from the obstetrician, nor do I ever remember Mom doing the honors when I was a bad little girl, yet I still love a good spanking.
…
One of the best spankings I ever received involved a vibrator between my legs. With each spank, I pressed against it and caught a good buzz between my legs. My birthday spanking this year was a grab bag affair. While some went for a conservative slap and tickle, a few tried to outdo all the others with their well-wishing whacks (some of my friends are very competitive). And, yes, a rosy handprint lingered the next day to remind me I was one year older—and that I have the best friends!
In between those paragraphs, there’s a fairly detailed article (pitched to a more-or-less vanilla audience) about folks who like spankings.
Hey everybody, can you believe it? Yet another spanking blog — the very promising “Bottoms Up“. Right now there’s a strapping young lad getting whacked by his hottie teacher at the top of the page….
I had several positive comments about Star Struck by John Benson, so I went looking for more stories by this author. Turns out he has a whole archive of spanking stories. Here’s a tiny excerpt from another one I rather liked, a love story:
At thirteen she’d got the crop for what they thought of as sexual misconduct, even if at the time it wasn’t. Well now she was going to get the crop for what actually was sexual misconduct, even though her dad didn’t know it. She was naughty, and she was going to get it. She lifted her skirt and pulled underthings out of the way. Knelt down, rump-up in the dirt. At the very first smack of the crop against her thigh she screamed.
Thoughts of eroticizing this fled before the pain. Shame stayed though, and grew with every agonizing stroke. Why was she so naughty? Why was she so naughty that he had to turn her hips and thighs black and blue?
From John Benson’s Behind The Barn.
[The link broke and was removed. Even the Wayback Machine doesn’t have this story. If you’ve got a link, an archive, or a copy, please get in touch.]
Here’s a fun quote from an article in an unspecified women’s magazine, as repeated in Issue #9 of a funky little online spanking zine called Spankorama:
“It’s a contradiction in terms” says Ruby Zelwegger, a 20 something lawyer for Seattle USA. “I’m as determined to succeed in life as any woman but there’s a part of me that just likes nothing more than to ask my fiance Brad to spank me so hard until it hurts so bad. If some of the girls in the law firm where I work knew that I like nothing more than to suffer a sore ass they’d think I’d gone crazy. But then again, who’s to say they don’t get exactly the same medicine when they get home after a hard day at work…”
Here is an excerpt from The Continuing Saga of Jules. Jules is a much-loved and well-spanked young wife with a husband who very much enjoys the game. Although the writing in this story could stand a little tightening up (okay, a lot of tightening up), I like these bits anyway, because I’ve got a friend with an exercise-related rebelliousness problem.
The problem was that Jules hated exercise. It made her sweaty, made her feel like a female jock, and she didn’t like that. She was a girl and she wanted to remain very feminine, dainty and sweet smelling like a girl should be. So she kinda shirked her exercises, especially if Bill wasn’t there watching her.
In fact, the very first time Bill ever used his new cane on her shapely rear was for her goofing off in the exercise room. He was home but she thought he was busy in his den doing some paper work. Her mistake. Instead of working out as she was told to, Jules was sitting looking out the window munching on a cookie when Bill looked in to see how she was doing that afternoon. To put it mildly he wasn’t happy with what he saw.
“So THIS is how you do your exercises, is it? Well, I think you need some exercise of a different kind, my girl. Get those sweat pants off right now and wait right here. I’ll be back in a minute!”
And with that Bill left the room, while Jules meekly removed her gray sweat pants. She knew he was going to spank her. She had little doubt of that, and truth to tell, she deserved it, she had it coming. How dumb could she be to goof off when Bill was underfoot?
Pretty Jules’ eyes grew big as silver dollars (well make those brown dollars in her case) when she saw what Bill brought back with him. It was that new cane he had found. Up to that point he had never spanked her with it, nor did she ever want him to. From what her girl friends had told her (especially some of those she had on the internet) canes hurt like crazy.
“Oh, NO, Bill!” she cried out in alarm. “OH NO, not the cane, oh please not the cane. I’ll work hard, real hard. I’ll work out twice as long right now, honest I will!”
Her face was flushed, her shapely calves shaking like leaves in the wind. She was scared, really scared.
“Yes you WILL, my girl, you certainly WILL, but not until after I’ve given you a good hard spanking with my new stick. You are going to love it, Jules my sweet, truly love it. It will make the prettiest red marks on your naughty cheeks, I promise you.”
Jules really didn’t want to see them. She was willing to do without that pleasure in life.
“Now bend over, hands on bench, bottom out, legs spread a little more apart, don�t want you tumbling over as I spank you.” Bill stood beside her as Jules bent forward and put her trembling palms down on the wood bench in front of her. It was low enough to force her to double over almost, and this caused her shapely rear to stick way out and up in back. All that covered her firm round buttocks at this point were her white panties. And they were not very thick.
Jules held her breath and tensed her ass as she waited for the first cut of her husband’s new cane. It came with a loud swishing sound, followed by a dull thud as wood met flesh. Jules cried out loudly in shock and in pain.
“OH BILL” she hollered, “oh, Bill that hurts so, oh please NO more, honey, NO more?” Jules tried to look back up from her doubled over position at her young husband’s face, but she could not see it. Just as well, for at that moment Bill was smiling broadly, really into this first caning. He had been looking forward to using his new cane, just waiting for Jules to give him some good reason to do so. Today she had, hurrah!
Bill had done his homework well before using the new cane on his cute wife. He asked around discreetly and was advised when first using a cane on a girl, it was best to limit the number of strokes to 6 or 8. Later after she grew used to being spanked with it, a man might increase the number of cane cuts to 10 or 12. Since that day was Jules’ first spanking with a cane, Bill decided to limit it to 6 strokes. As it turned out, just 6 cuts of his cane left his pretty wife blubbering worse than if he had paddled her 100 times. “Man,” he told himself as he watched her sobbing and rubbing her brightly striped buttocks gingerly, “man this cane thing must really hurt.” He smiled. “Ahhh…” he thought contentedly, “another fine tool to use on my sometimes naughty Jules.”
Here’s an oddity, a spanking science fiction story that actually works! It’s a short-short, so rather than spoil the actual spanking for you by excerpting it, I’ll give you the first two paragraphs as the teaser:
It wasn’t that I never knew anyone who’d had her panties taken. My pretty young aunt had had hers taken for infidelity, and got sold to a garrison of soldiers, which was really mean. And my older cousin had her panties taken so she could be sold to pay my uncle’s debts. And my best friend refused her father’s choice of husband and he got so angry he had her panties taken and sold her to that selfsame man, so now he not only gets to fuck her, he gets to spank her, too.
So it’s not that I didn’t know it’s possible, but if you’d asked me if there was any danger I’d have my own panties taken, I’d have said never in a million years.
The crack of the cane — right on top of the previous line. Again, she straightened, up, dancing round the room, trying to calm the burning weals.
“You are not helping yourself, Beth. You are still on three strokes, and I fully intend to keep you here until you have had all eight. Now stop wasting my time, and get over the chair.”
The tears were running down her face as she leant forward again.
“Hands down the chair legs. Thank you.”
She could feel Jenkins close behind her this time: the cane gently rested across her buttocks. He drew it back, high into the air, then cracked it down again. Beth clutched the chair with all her strength, desperate not to stand up as the red hot pain swelled across her behind.
I don’t get spanked when I’m bad. I’m never bad. I’m obsessively driven to be perfect, and I assure you I can beat and berate myself in my head for any perceived failing ten thousand times worse than anyone could do with a crop to me. This is not a fantasy scenario to me. It’s not kinky play. I suspect for most people it is mostly kinky play, entertained to various degrees for various lengths of time, and that’s fine. That’s individual. However, if i had to pick an acronym to tattoo on my head, it would be M/s, and not any of the other choices. I serve. I don’t play. That’s me. I’m June Cleaver with a brand on my ass.
She also has this to say about male dominance, which is apropos to some of the previous posts here about D/s issues and lifestyles:
Pay attention guys. It is a tantamount fallacy to think that there are any significant differences between those that fuck kinky and those that simply haven’t realized their potential for kinky fucking, yet. I’m not special, you’re not special. We’re just people. People for all their many differences are also all mostly the same, too. All women think it’s a turn off to be a pompous jackass proclaiming one’s own importance and entitlement to be blindly respected and obeyed by virtue of their self said importance in the galactic scheme of things, for example. All women think it’s a turn on to be casually confident and charmingly witty, for example.
We both know you long for power, control, and fellatio. That’s OK. I think it’s an admirable goal to be perused with vim and vigor. If you are going to succeed at that, you already have, or you need to listen when I tell you to forget all the silly “submission is a gift” shit. It’s a spoil of war. It’s plunder and booty. You have to fight hard. You will be wounded and bleed. It’ll hurt.
My friends, she said it herself: this woman is not here to play.
AccordianGuy tells a long tale of the worst date ever, and yah it was pretty bad. But I was amused by this snippet of first-date conversation:
I suggested that we go next door to Taro Grill, where they placed us in a quiet, out-of-the-way booth. We ordered Amaretto Sours and started trading stories about ourselves. I told her about how I got kicked out of the Yamaha Organ School. In return, she told me about some strange game she and her friends played at the age of thirteen in boarding school: she was the Faerie Queene, but since she was a bad Faerie Queene, she had to submit to many spankings.
“Clearly all the porn flicks that take place in a boarding school have an element of truth to them,” I observed.
Me, I think I would have tried to draw out that bit of conversation, without using phrases that are candidates for “the list” of Fifty Words And Phrases Not To Use On A First Date. Who knows, the whole date might have taken a better turn!
Over on the Spanking Classics story board, which I have linked to before and which has a variety of spanking forums on various topics, a post caught my eye. Seems a lady earned herself a well-deserved spanking with a plastic spoon, which was properly enjoyed by all. And then came bedtime:
When we finally got into bed he was smiling at me, and asked if I’d like him to rub in some cream, which I thought was nice of him, and so he did.
Only it wasn’t the arnica cream it was deep heat balsam rub!!! God that brings up the fire its like you can feel every smack individually! After two minutes I wanted to run to the bathroom to wash it off but I wasn’t allowed!
He put sleep pants on and spooned up to me (so it wouldn’t rub off on him, he got caught like that once before)and hung on so I couldn’t get out — I even tried the “I need to pee” routine and he said fine we’d both go but if I didn’t then maybe we needed to discuss honesty and I didn’t go there. I spent a very uncomfortable night believe me.
Is that evil, or what? “Dear, would you like me to rub some cream in to make it all better?”
Or, at least, that’s what the kinky French call it:
WHAT A GOOD SPANKING WON’T DO
Lavender ice cream only just made up for the bottom-pummelling that is a Cannes spa’s speciality
It was last weekend, as I lay naked and wincing while my bottom was being slapped rather hard by a French therapist, that I began to wonder if I was losing my grip on reality.
It had sounded like such a good idea at the time: not the bottom-slapping, which was a bit of a surprise, but the quick, pre-birthday trip to a new Givenchy spa in Cannes.
I’d been lured there by a friend, Ann, a spa aficionado who claims that the reason French women stay so thin and chic and elegant, despite eating large lunches and three-course dinners most days, is their regular bouts of detoxifying massage therapy.
“That’s why they never have to go to the gym,” she said. “French women don’t sweat, they simply glide about on Chanel high heels, possibly with a small dog in tow, but nothing more onerous than that. Don’t you see?”
And who was I to argue? Croissants, chocolate and no gym: it sounded fab. So off we went to the Hotel Martinez, an Art Deco palace owned by the Taittinger champagne dynasty – where all the stars stay during the Cannes Film Festival.
The food was indeed wonderful – and the spa was, well, where do I begin? The French are far stricter than the English when it comes to health and beauty therapy. Contrary to Ann’s accolades, “no pain, no gain” seems to be the philosophy, combined with a firm emphasis on drainage lymphatique, which sounds like a French plumbing company but is, in fact, their principle tenet of body detoxification/ mortification.
Hence the slapping – not just on the bottom, but around the thighs and stomach; though before the actual smacking commenced, I had to lie on a waterbed, jiggled by jets from beneath (quite nice, actually), followed by the initial lymphatic drainage massage. This was less fierce than the full-blown slapping (more of a sort of pummelling), but vital, according to my Givenchy information brochure, because it “provokes cellular regeneration throughout the body and helps to eliminate toxins, while acting favourably against cellulite, various edemata and the feeling of heaviness in the legs”.
Call me a skeptic, but I think it’s just a fancy excuse to run a kinkster spa. Why not just open up a Russian banya and start flailing away with the birches while you are at it?
I just want to remind everyone that Invidia continues to blog up a storm over at The Collar Purple, and she’s posting a new piece of spanking art almost every day. Here’s the thumbnail of her latest, featuring a genuinely contrite (well, ok, sullen and about to be contrite) schoolgirl stretched over one of those awful metal school desks:
To see the piece in its full sized glory, go visit already! (If you aren’t reading this on July 21/2003, then scroll down for the entry of that date, since there are no permalinks over there as yet. Invidia’s main squeeze and disciplinarian, “The Boss”, is supposedly working on that, but for painfully obvious reasons, she doesn’t nag him. I am laboring under no such constraints.)
Here’s a long tale of a lady who rather foolishly goes to visit a fellow with the intent of being his spanking slave. Predictably she winds up enjoying an implausible sequence of terribly severe spankings, canings, and strappings, intermixed with enemas, butt plugs, and unusual dungeon furniture. One of her master’s favorite toys is a two inch wide rubber monster called the Hyper Strap:
He carefully aimed the strap at the center of her provocatively projecting buns and swung hard. “One!” A river of stinging, burning pain swept across her bottom and seemed to penetrate to her very depths. She shrieked in agony at the intense, searing fire. A faint red stripe the width
of the strap stood out on her buttocks, deepening in color at the point where the end had landed.
He waited for all of thirty seconds between strokes, allowing her to feel the full effect of the dreadful implement. The pain was abating very slowly. “Two!” The Hyper Strap crashed down again, broadening and deepening the hue of the red stripe. She reacted with an even more desperate shriek. Tears came to her eyes and she began to sob. She strained against the bonds, her bottom aching unbearably. The guests smiled.
“Three!” Her sobbing intensified to a continuous intense cry as she struggled and tossed, the red stripe now a deeper hue. “Four!” She was terrified now. The awareness that nothing she could do would make her jutting behind a less attractive target swept over her. She wished she could pass out, but she could not. She had to experience the full impact of the spanking her Master was now deriving such pleasure from giving her. She was crying now as loudly as she could, but the gag muffled the sound. Her Master smiled as He prepared to deliver the final stroke.
“Five!” She could not believe He could hit her even harder, but He did. The broad red stripe now ran from the outside of her left cheek to the outside of her right, lightening only slightly at the curve where the cheeks descended to the rosebud within. The aching, burning, stinging
sensations raged through and across her bottom, the unbearable fire making her feel she was about to burst.
From The Unseen Master by Paul A. [link broken and removed]
Was chatting with a reader last night on ICQ (This is so cool! I have readers!) and she sent me the link to a cute little spanking animation she did. Check it out!
Here’s a rare treat: A punishment story called Sister James, by Cait Coogan, that holds its own as literature. The main story line is a schoolgirl’s unhappy dealings with a cruel Irish nun, but as a vignette of Irish life the story stands on its own. Well worth a read!
Update: There was a brief excerpt from the story here previously, but author Cait Coogan took offense. Unfortunately, Cait lacked the common courtesy to contact me or ask for its removal, and instead complained to my hosting provider. My provider is a decent outfit with cheap gigabytes and great service, but neither they nor I feel like spending the time necessary to wrangle about a few stupid paragraphs, so the excerpt is gone now even though it fell well within the bounds of fair use under US copyright law.
Here’s a vintage German postcard showing a fairly vigorous bondage whipping. Look at the crotch of the doofus in the background, he’s enjoying the show.
Alas, Google translation tools don’t make anything intelligible of the caption. Any cunning linguists out there who can help out?
10/24/03 Update: A reader from Germany writes:
I think this pic is from a comic-strip from the French comic-artist Georges Pichard from about 1970. The pic must have been scanned from a German translation of this comic-book. The text is not a complete sentence, the rest of the sentence must be in the comic-pic before or after this scene. It means more or less “…and it now hit me…”
I took The Fetish Quiz [link broken and removed] I found at Her Desires. It’s a fun quiz with lots of detail. Here’s what it says about me, what do you think?
You prefer only females for sex partners. You tend to be dominant. This will impact the interpretation of your various sexual interests. Possibly left over from your childhood experiences is your interest in spanking. You enjoy slapping others, and the color a submissive’s skin turns. Spanking is not child’s play to you. It holds a deep place in your fantasies. You enjoy using rope, straps, etc., to restrain others during sex play … it’s a thrill for you to see them unable to move and completely helpless. You probably have quite a collection of bondage gear ready to use right now. Creating a sensation on someone else through use of various toys appeals to you. Your interest in sensations can be light or it can get bloody hard — literally. But you enjoy it all the same. The fridge isn’t safe when you’re around. Fruits and veggies — provided they are the proper shape and size — are your tools of sexual fun. Big vats of liquidy food make you quite excited. Your mouth is a sacred area that houses a variety of sensations and desires for you. You enjoy having things in your mouth, and you enjoy teasing your tongue with a variety of different stimulation.
I could quibble about a couple of items (slapping? huh?) but otherwise I think it’s got me dead to rights. Now I want all my blog friends to take the quiz too and post the results. C’mon, I showed you mine, now you show me yours!
Here’s a scan from an old bondage magazine. The original caption was “A Horse of a Different Color”:
However, if the gentleman applies that tawse with all the enthusiasm his body language displays, somehow I don’t think it’s the horse that will soon be a different color.
Another of my email correspondents has been kind enough to send along one of her spanking stories. I love to get this sort of mail and I’m happy to provide web space for spanking stories and other goodies that the author may not have a page for. In this case, we have a fun story of a lady whose inattentiveness in her car earns her a whole lot of attention from her boyfriend when they get home:
He demands, “Get that skirt up, now.”
“Noooooo…” I wail softly, but even as I am pleading I have straightened up enough to pull my skirt out from under me and am raising it. It’s like a zombie is moving my hands, pulling my skirt out of the way, bending back into the proper position, and grabbing the lower barstool rung. This is going to hurt.
He waits. I hear him make a murmur of appreciation while gazing on my panty clad bottom, and I smile for a second. The anticipation kills the smile pretty quick. I remember that I am in the process of having my backside turned red. It already stings like mad, and I notice that the brief pause has allowed the fiery hot sensation to catch up with my skin. It couldn’t possibly hurt more than it did when he was actually smacking it, but somehow it does.
Awhile back I blogged about useful phrases for naughty girls. Comes now Naughty Choirgirl and emails me to confirm that the phrases work as intended:
“What are you going to do, spank me?” is a line that I have used liberally for years, and the response is much like it says in print. (It either buys you time to run, or it happens. Either way, it’s pretty smoothe.)
I’m delighted to hear from another of my readers, and I wish more of you would write in. I love to get email, and I’m often available by ICQ as well. Don’t be shy, I don’t bite! (Much.)
This is not really a spanking item, but there’s a connection of sorts. I once knew a lady who objected pretty thoroughly to any really effective sexual stimulation, she said it was “too much.” Carly over at Pornblography has a reader who knows how to deal with that little problem:
I’m glad to see the Hitachi Magic Wand getting the attention it deserves.
I use it as a regular part of my practice as a professional male Dominant for submissive women. It is almost guaranteed to make any woman cum within about three minutes, provided she is restrained in the proper exposed position so that she can’t get away from its lascivious vibrations.
I typically don’t apply it directly to the genitalia, but prefer to insert my gloved fingers into the vagina to reach the G-spot while placing the Magic Wand against the base of my thumb. I then use my thumb to stimulate the clitoris. You need a lot of power to make this work and the Magic Wand has what it takes.
I’ve always found that giving a woman pleasure she can’t stop is every bit as much fun as spanking her, and for many of the same reasons.
This is great news: Spanking Blog is not the only spanking blog out there any more. Please welcome The Collar Purple, a very promising new blog by Invidia. The alert reader will notice that she and her lucky husband (aka The Boss) have kindly been sharing stories, art, and essays with Spanking Blog for some time. Now they have a web home of their own, which looks set to showcase Invidia’s excellent spanking art plus links and commentary on the D/s spanking relationship they so clearly enjoy.
So go visit, and send them encouraging and congratulatory emails!
Meanwhile, I’m dickering with Invidia for some of her spanking art so that I can upgrade the Spanking Blog image. Watch for it!
There’s a new pay site just come on the scene called Northern Spanking. They are charging a small fee for spanking pictures from a spanking club in Scotland. From the look of things, the models are real spankos with real bodies (attractive, but lived in) and are really into the spanking thing. Although it’s a paysite, Northern Spanking has a bunch of free galleries and the pictures are really good. Here’s a sample:
Ouch! These folks are worth a visit, even if you don’t join up.
Here’s a very cute drawing of someone (is it Laura Croft?) getting her buns heated to a nice ruddy glow by a grinning self-satisfied elf of unusual size:
This illustration has a moral: “Never sass a huge elf warrior, especially if everything he’s wearing appears to made from leather. Not even if you are a big movie star with a huge contract.”
Although I’ve posted some rules for spanking games before, I’m not a huge fan of the concept. Why not? Because they tend to be entirely too fair. Why should I put my tender butt in needless jeopardy?
However, Invidia (she of the excellent spanking stories and artwork) was kind enough to send along also her rules for Spanking Trivial Pursuit. And these are very much to my liking, because the game is played in Dom/sub pairs and no matter who misses the question, the subbie gets the swats.
Which would also happen to be convenient for me, since I absolutely suck at Trivial Pursuit.
Anyway, here are the most excellent rules:
Spank Me Trivial Pursuit
Basic: The game is played in Dom/sub pairs according to the basic rules; except that when a wrong answer is given the submissive partner is spanked. We had differing levels of spanks and implements according to the color of the spot we landed on and how many questions of that type we had missed. Here are ours, but you should scale your own toward your own strengths and weaknesses:
Orange (Sports) – hand swats
Yellow (History) – hairbrush
Blue (Geography) – Belt
Pink (Entertainment) – Paddle
Brown (Literature) – Light cane
Green (Science) – Evil bath brush
Number of swats depended on how many times a question in that category had been missed. One for the first miss, two for the second, three for the third; you see the pattern now, don’t you?
Variation Two: After getting caned entirely too much for knowing nothing about 19th century literature, my sis and I came up with a Doms vs. subs version. She and I took turns rolling the dice and we answered the questions in pairs. Whoever’s turn it was when the wrong answer was given took the swats. There was a double-or-nothing clause added though. We were allowed to ask for another question in the same category. If we got that one right, we took no swats. The number of swats was doubled. (Note: This does slightly favor the subs to win the game since they get more chances to answer a question. But it’s not really about who wins the game, you know.)
Variation Three: Swats and Dares! Sis and I were tired of sitting on sore rear ends for no compensation. We suggested that it would be entirely more fun if the Doms had some negative incentive on their part as well. When the Doms missed a question we would assign them some funky dare to do like Truth-or-Dare. We had to establish limits of course, but we had more fun than should be allowed by law!
Personal suggestions:
Dares are private. Don’t talk about them outside the game.
Allow the Dare players a certain number of dare refusals.
Play with open-minded, fun people.
Set a maximum number of swats.
Play with safewords.
Don’t ever, ever tell a Dom that he hits like a girl!
Sometimes it seems like spanking porn these days is all about the butt. Flaming red asses, big welts, and impact shots are all well and good, but nothing adds authenticity like a good close look at her face when the paddle swings in fast and true.
By that standard, this ancient still from Nu-West has authenticity to spare:
Sorry about the poor image quality, but it’s what it is. If anybody has a better scan, or (fat chance!) a paper version of this image they’d like to lend for scanning, by all means do get in touch!
“The Boss” wrote in to share an essay he worked up from a spanking lecture. Given the close (one might even say “warm”) connection between spanking and certain D/s lifestyles, I thought some of my readers would enjoy hearing from The Boss about his personal approach to the D/s game and to his own well-spanked subbie:
Fairness and the Dom/Sub Relationship
By The Boss
The first and foremost thing one must understand about fairness
is that it is a HUMAN invention. It does not exist in nature nor,
arguably, is it even a major factor in most human cultures. Bad
things happen to good people and good things happen to bad people.
“C’est la vie” captures the spirit of this, but doesn’t go far enough.
The basic truth is LIFE is not fair.
On the other hand, dominance and submission are facts of life,
both in nature and the human world. One buck will have all the
does he wants and the vast majority will go without. The head
lion gets his “lion’s share” despite not participating in the
hunt. Lesser dogs will lay on their backs and turn up
their bellies to the alpha male when he comes around. Why is
this the case? Because it WORKS . . . without a hint of
fairness at all.
There is no denying the basic human emotion that desires for
things to work out ‘right’. Criminals SHOULD be punished,
and the virtuous SHOULD have their rewards. But the
EXPECTATION of fairness is a relatively recent development.
What we must question is whether this expectation
is reasonable or not. Or whether it may only be
reasonable in some circumstances and not others.
I would argue that fairness is neither reasonable or
even desirable in a D/s relationship. Is it ‘fair’
that one person have most or all the power? Is it
fair for a submissive to be punished for infractions
(real OR imaginary), while her dominant operates under
no such penalties? Not at all!
A healthy D/s relationship has many good qualities,
but fairness is not among them. It should be based
on trust, respect, caring and a healthy dose of
responsibility (on the part of all members). But
the essential fact is that the dominant has all
the authority. All of it. With that comes all of
the responsibility. And yet, it is the submissive
who ends up with the whipped tail and waiting on her
master, literally hand and foot at times.
The eternal cry of the freshly punished subbie is
“That’s not fair!” True, and that’s the way it should
be. The contract between a dominant and his submissive
(whether explicit or implied) is “I will care for you,
but I have the right to guide you, use you or
discipline you as I see fit.” Nowhere in there is the
responsibility to cater to anyone’s sense of fairness.
To do so would undermine the essential UNfairness
of the transfer of power inherent in all hierarchical
relationships.
Nor does a submissive, deep down, truly desire fairness.
By ceding power, she is saying, “Do not be fair to
me, CONTROL me.”
The fairness doctrine insists that people be treated
equally and identically for the same actions. If a
sub makes a mistake, she may be whipped, denied
pleasures or forced to perform some arduous task. A
dominant, making the same mistake, might simply
make a sincere apology. Should the bottom get to
swat the top in the latter case? Of course not!
A dominant should strive to be consistent,
even-handed, and authoritative. But fairness should
be avoided in all its forms. And BOTH parties will
be happier for it.
Obviously this is not your typical politically correct Bay Area negotiated playspace power exchange we are talking about. But who cares, if the players are happy?
Here’s another movie spanking, a real classic. This promo photograph is from the movie The Girl He Left Behind (1956) and shows Tab Hunter spanking Natalie Wood with his hand:
Huge grin on his face, and isn’t that a pretty smile on her face too?
I have previously linked to images from the age of slavery, as a reminder that the whip was not always a symbol of good clean pervy fun. This image is, I think, more recent, but still very much from a less enlightened era. It’s also a rare crumb for those of our fans who prefer to see robust male hineys under the lash:
SHE shakes her booty, what a sight!
Her protest climbs; she stamps and cries
And all that’s best of dark and bright
Meets in her ass and tearful eyes;
This mellow’d brat now so contrite
Was Heaven to spank and to chastise.
One smack the more, one stroke the less,
Had half impair’d the nameless grace
Which waves of lust and of distress
Are sweeping keenly o’er her face,
Where thoughts obscenely sweet express
How hot, how wet their dwelling-place.
And on those cheeks once white as snow
So soft, so sore, yet eloquent,
The stripes between the tints that glow,
But promise nights in passion spent,—
A mind afire with need below,
A heart that’s far from innocent.
I’ve linked before to the spanking goodness to be found over at Pink Flamingo Publications. Here’s another small excerpt from a spanking novel that’s for sale over there:
While admiring the lovely sight before them, the inspired disciplinarian delivered round after round of smacks, making Bridget’s bottom acutely raw. His aim drifted downward for a time, as he lay a potent dozen on the more tender flesh of her thighs. With this, Bridget let out an angry howl, “Oh, my god, no please!” Her voice rocked the air with a passionate plea for mercy that fell on deaf ears.
In answer to that desperate plea, at least a half dozen more strikes snapped rudely on her thighs before her tormentor changed his aim again. Bridget was only too happy to have the treatment return to her padded behind.
As the scene evolved, the paddling finally came to an end. Only after the paddle was retired for the night did the penitent woman note the fire on her ass. The warmth that spread across the surface expanded to the insides of her body, into her quivering thighs, and up her spine. She could feel the warmth reach the center of her crotch where her pussy was moist and blood pulsed in an erotic frenzy. The empty cavity clenched involuntarily, but she halted the reflex knowing what that would communicate to the men around her.
It’s a hot day in July, so I’m going to go play in the sunshine. I’ll leave you with this promo still from one of the original summer movies, showing Elvis spanking Jenny Lee in Blue Hawaii:
That facial expression she’s got looks like good old fashioned outrage, so either she was a good actress, or Elvis was getting into his role, or both.
Synchronicity in action! First one email correspondent was sharing with me the fact that Spanish has a rich specialized vocabulary covering various ways to hit, beat, cut, slice, stab, and murder people. One word for hitting someone with a stick, another for hitting them with a strap, et cetera. Fascinating stuff, but then again, what do you expect from the people who brought you the words “strappado” and “bastinado”?
Then another e-mailer pointed me to Wulfram’s Spanking in Other Languages page. The page presents the word for spanking in 45 languages! As my correspondent points out, you can use these words in search engines to find spanking resources that would otherwise not likely be discovered. Very handy.
Here’s another nice piece of spanking art. I can almost hear a teasing male voice in the background asking “How many more strokes is it worth to you if I take off that elbows tie?”
Poor thing! Those arms can’t be happy, but there’s a lot of red in that well-spanked ass of hers too. Not an easy decision….
What are you laughing at, monkey boy? Don’t make your dominant waitress angry or I might have to spank you!
My uniform is a standard-issue, bondage-style outfit. It beats the heck out of polyester. It’s all part of the hierarchy. I am a dominatrix, the bus boys are slaves (they wear signs with self-deprecating labels like “dirt”) and the bar staff are masters and mistresses. My duties are to order food and drinks and talk to the customers. I don’t spank someone unless they ask for it.
Most people expect the guests at the restaurant to be hardcore S&M fans, but there is a good mix. We have an ad in one of the tourist magazines distributed to hotels, so we get a lot of curious Chucks and Dorothies fresh from the farm in Iowa. They look around at people decked out in leather, customers eating in high chairs, and lots of spanking chaos. They see the evening floor show, a display of our featured events like erotic foot worshipping, spanking of the slave and public humiliation. For the first few seconds they have a sort of slack-jawed reaction.
But once the initial shock wears off, they really start getting into it. They are buying spankings for their wives, and their wives are buying public humiliations for their husbands. Dorothy represses in the back of her mind all those times back in Iowa when Chuck should have done the dishes, and there is a big beaming smile on her face when the waitress says to him, “You bastard! You are so ugly you deserve a spanking!”
Even better is when there are two couples that come in. You know that they have come on this trip together and collectively this is the weirdest shit that they have ever seen. It’s not quite embarrassment, but there is this definite “who’s going to crack first” feeling. They don’t want to be the first one to break down and enjoy it, but inevitably someone has to cave in. It seems like a green light for everyone else to let down their guard.
Spankings are infectious. People look around and see everyone is doing it, and they just have to join in. Before you know it, they’re buying spankings like they are going out of style.
Some very normal people come in. There are those who are coming in as a part of a large group. And there are also the regular practitioners of S&M who come in. It’s a comfort zone for them, almost like the local sports bar would be to a Knicks fan. These people feel that they have a public place to relax in. They know that they are not going to be judged. Once we had a couple who sat at the bar, not sticking out, just sitting. Then the man pulled the woman across his lap; he proceeded to spank her nonstop for over an hour. He just sat there, administering slow, even blows to her butt, and sipping at his martini.
Here’s another old fashioned naked public birching in the town square, with all the good burghers looking on in fascination while maintaining suitable postures of mock horror:
I like this one because the fellow administering the birch has a smug half-smile on his face — he’s not even pretending to be burdened by the duty of seeing to public morals in such a scandalous fashion.
Not certain but I strongly believe the artist is Paula Meadows.
The gracious and talented Invidia very kindly emailed me with an original spanking story and some samples of her spanking artwork. It seems that she’s currently without suitable web space for displaying such, although she’s working on solving that problem. I’m delighted to share the fruits of her talents with you all, and I hope you’ll email her and encourage her to get her web site up as soon as possible so that we can see more.
With that, he brought down the strap suddenly and very unexpectedly on my unprotected bottom.
I shrieked, though I don’t know now whether it was from pain or from shock. I had felt like I was in a daze earlier, but the sudden impact of his belt on my backside had shaken me completely from my stupor.
The second swipe of the belt landed just where the first one had and drew another shriek of pain from me.
He brought the belt down across the middle of my backside several times and I found myself unable to keep my position over the desk with my hands grasping the other side.
Dr. Foxworth paused long enough to reposition me and then continued the onslaught. I wailed and cried piteously but my anguish had no effect on him.
If you click through to read the whole story, you’ll find it illustrated with two more spanking drawings. Thanks very much Invidia!
Never Try to Flirt Before You’ve Had Morning Coffee
Sigh.
This morning I tried to have a little spur-of-the-moment fun with the pleasant-faced dirty-blonde barista, about my age, at the drive-up fancy coffee trailer near my office. When I walk up to the window, her co-worker is already making my mocha. So she’s making small talk. We’re friendly, I’m a reliable tipper, it’s always a pleasant exchange. This morning:
Her: “You get a haircut?”
Me: “Yah, it was time.”
Her: “My man always makes me cut his hair.”
At this point the devil on my shoulder gets into the act. That’s a straight line if I ever heard one. So I give a slight leer and ask really direct and clear, as earnest as I can manage: “Oh really? And how exactly does he do that?”
And I watch real close. I’m looking for any hint of a flush, or a blush, or a change in her smile, anything at all.
Alas no. Negative response, captain. Face flat, voice still bland, eyes still sleepy, she says: “Oh, he just lets it get real messy until I can’t stand it.”
One more try. I say: “Oh, I thought maybe it was something more fun….” As my voice trails off, I’m still looking for a reaction. She gives me any encouragement at all, I’m going to finish with “…you know, riding crop, harness, something like that” and a big grin. Would love to get a blush out of this girl, but only if she’ll play. Unfortunately, she stays flat, starts to chatter about how her man always means to get to the barber, conversation wanders on from there.
Sigh. I love it when a deeply veiled innuendo strikes home, but today wasn’t a day for that.
If she reads this blog, I am sooo busted. But then again, if she reads this blog, I think I would have gotten a reaction.
Here’s an excerpt from a nicely written short story:
“I will be back to deal with you shortly.â€
Karen was left to wait for Lord Ryan’s return, fully dressed but positioned as he wanted her. She was bent over the bed, resting on cuffed hands, her long, shapely legs together and her ass high in the air. Her skirt was pulled tight over her bottom and the tops of her black silk stockings were visible.
The wait was excruciating. From her position, Karen knew that she would be receiving a spanking. Just the thought made her heart race. Spankings were the best, even if painful at times. She felt the moisture build between her legs with the thought.
Lord Ryan re-entered the room. Karen did not look back but sensed he was behind her. His presence captivated her, even when she could not see him. He slid her skirt up her thighs and over her firm round buttocks. His hand ran across her dimpled ass and then slowly slid between her legs. Karen moaned at his touch and arched back into him. Lord Ryan quickly pulled away and gave her bottom a sharp slap. “Remain still!â€
…
Slowly he slid her panties off and nudged her to spread her legs. He took a long look at the sight before him. Petal pink lips glistened with her desires. Picking up the strap with one hand, he pressed the other into the small of Karen’s back, causing her ass to raise higher. Without a word, he brought the strap firmly down on her striped bottom.
The shock and pain of the leather made Karen yelp with the first blow. As the strapping continued, her breath became more labored and soon she cried out with each lash. The leather made contact with both Karen’s ass and her exposed pussy. Tears poured from her eyes as Lord Ryan continued. Her cheeks were on fire and she was sobbing uncontrollably when she realized that he had stopped.
Before Karen had time to compose herself, Lord Ryan positioned himself behind her, and with one quick thrust, entered the tight opening of her ass….
I am not, am not I say, stalking Mike and Michelle. These constant references flow from one simple fact: This is a spanking blog, and right now they are blogging a lot about spanking, and a guy has to cover the spanking news, doesn’t he?
So anyway, things got pretty warm over at their place yet again:
So, we lay there, and we’re still horny, and she hasn’t really been spanked. So, I tell her, I want to spank her, and she moans, and lifts her hips a bit, and so it begins.
In this situation we do them in sets – between 10 and 50 at a time per side, with her counting – 1 Sir, 2 Sir, so on and so forth. We start at 25, and I think hey, maybe we’ll get to 100. Seems like enough for the day, so that we did, 25 and 25 and 25 and 25, not hard at all, and her counting. I was kinda tired, so it was enough to sting, to bring up the red, but wasn’t overly hard.
I got inspired, spanked her asshole for 25, then started in, did another 2 sets on her bottom, then another on her asshole. On and on and on it went. When we hit 300 I asked her if she was ok, and she said yes. Yeah her ass was red and hot to the touch, but she was beyond wet again, and if you could have heard her voice you’d hear how turned on she was.
At 350 I’d slipped my hand between her legs and was fingering her, feeling her tighten with every smack. It still wasn’t hard, but well, it builds you know? She asked me how many, and I told her, and she wanted to keep going.
50 more made 400, and she cried a little, and came too. Hard.
I stopped, thought it was enough. Held her, made sure she was ok. She started stroking my cock, and licked it, made me moan, and said she wanted to finish, get the 500. Nice even number I guess.
So, I took my time, spanked her slow while she jerked me off. We hit the big 5 double zero, then I carried her into bed, and we lingered with our mouths.
I was going to end with a very simple “And then we made love”, but that’s what it all was, just from different perspectives.
Bacchus is right — Audrey is an uninhibited little text-to-speech program. Just ask her to say “After he gives my bottom a spanking, I like to suck my boyfriend’s huge dick” if you don’t believe me.
As you’ll quickly find when you play with these programs, some sentences work and some don’t. But it’s lots of fun to play with. And there are a bunch of male voices to play with as well. The Charles voice does a credibly snooty “Young lady, take down your panties and bend over….”
Uttered in a sultry voice, perhaps with a come-hither wink, this will almost invariably allow you time to escape, as the Good Guy blushes and stammers, or the Bad Man looks suddenly thoughtful. Occasionally you will be taken literally, but as this will inevitably result in hours of wild nookie, there’s really no downside.
Almost any man will tell you that shopping with a woman is a frustrating experience. However, shopping with Michelle might be an exception. Lucky Mike, he’s got a birthday coming up….
Here are some spanking games that look to be fun if played in the right company. The one called “High Card Spank” seems the least contrived and most versatile. And, although it is designed for two, it might also serve as a great party game if played with the right group of two or three friendly spanko couples.
From the archives of Screamergirl’s interesting blog (alas not updated very much of late) comes this fun-sounding twist on an OTK spanking:
Anyway, he spanked me. I bought him a new paddle (what the fuck was I thinking?), and we did a fun little OTK thing. He makes me laugh, then spanks me for laughing, then makes me laugh again. He mock-punishes me for incredibly silly things that are semi-serious, but it’s a good way for him to drive home a point (so to speak) so that while I know I’m safe and loved and cared for – I also understand his point of view on certain things. It’s a great dynamic.
After, we had incredible sex (you needed to know that, right?) and then we spent two hours talking….
If you read forward in the archives from there, there’s a lot of intricate soul-searching on spanking and d/s of various flavors. Interesting if, like a lot of folks, you are trying to work out why this stuff is fascinating and fun.
“If you haven’t got a penny, a halfpenny will do…”
Here’s an interesting snippet from an otherwise boring article about British libel cases:
[I]n November 1974 … lieutenant-colonel John Brooks (a former mayor and London solicitor) sued the Sunday People which had accused him of being a sex trap for young girls and of assaulting a student on board his boat.
In evidence the Manchester University student told the court that she was smacked on her bare bottom about 30 times by the claimant. The newspaper had exaggerated the truth, but not by much, and the spanking colonel was still awarded damages – a derisory halfpenny.
These days, the good colonel would have been better off responding to the article with a cheery “Sex trap for young girls? I do so heartily wish it were true….”
Here’s a neat spanking illustration of a Betty Page look-alike giving a good brisk spanking. She’s already used the belt and now she’s using her hands….
This looks like it might be by Dave Stevens, who did a lot of Betty Page illustrations, but I’m not sure.
"...a heavy round wooden paddle with a hole in the middle that leaves fearsome red bruises. And then the shaking girls with beaten butts and tearful faces receive another terrible punishment..."
