While this is a just an article from a gossip rag, I thought it was kinda funny.
Sandra Bernhard told Howard Stern she slept with Jay Leno back when she and the “Tonight Show” host were both just starting out. And according to Sandra, Jay’s not only extremely well-endowed, he’s also a wild man in the sack. Sandra claims they never actually dated, per se, but they hung out quite a bit and fooled around, Jay handcuffing her and even putting her over his knee and spanking her. What a freak!
Obviously the author of the article just doesn’t know how to have a good time. I’ve always thought Jay Leno was a class act and now I have another reason to like him!
I rather liked this story, but not for the usual reasons. I
didn’t get a bit of titillation from it (I usually don’t from F/f scenes)
but the writing is excellent and there are several parts that are funny
enough that I had to laugh out loud. You can read the whole thing
here. I think the posted story changes from time to time, so I can’t be
certain this link will be valid much into the future. But this one has been
around for at least a few months so perhaps they don’t change it very often,
heh. [Link broken and removed.]
Jennifer waited once again. Her position could not be more vulnerable. She was bent far over, her head hanging down with outstretched arms, her feet spread and hanging down also. Jennifer’s tightly muscled bottom was the highest point of her body and its prominence was made all the more acute by the fact that Jennifer was completely nude.
Jennifer closed her eyes, wishing that the humiliating punishment that she would soon suffer was already over. How on earth could she have ended up in this position again?
All fiction requires at least a tiny suspension of disbelief, some more than others, to be sure! The very best make the job easy despite outlandish situations and unlikely events. On the other hand, a well-written piece can be wildy improbable and still be enjoyable. it’s cotton candy, but you know it’s cotton candy and it still tastes okay.
Master Chris’s stuff is like that. He’s prolific and it’s all good enough to keep your attention and amuse and/or excite you depending on your kink and the story in question.
There’s an archive of his stuff over at the BDSM Library. That site has a lot of stories so is well worth checking out even if Chris’s stories aren’t to your taste.
The extremely talented Lizbeth Dusseau at Pink Flamingo Publications writes one heck of a good spanking story! I have enjoyed everything I have ever read by her. She has a free site where visitors can sample stories that she and other authors have written. [Not any more — link removed — SpankBoss.] Here is a brief excerpt from one of the stories there:
Pushing the robe away with my hand, I bared her twin mounds and they almost took my breath away-so white, so gloriously white, like pristine fields of pale snow in the morning light. They jiggled slightly as I adjusted her on my lap and I could feel her trembling inside the grasp of my arm. Holding her tightly about the waist-because I remember my friend saying that was imperative-I began. Packing a good deal of punch to the strokes I laid on that lovely rear, the results were quite astounding and almost immediate. There was a beautiful pink blush rising within seconds, and the more I paddled her, the more the hue of her flesh deepened in color. The more I worked Bridget’s behind, the more eager I was to make her skin righteously smart. I’m sure my scheme was inspired by her response. She moaned quite sweetly at the start like it was hardly anything at all. But with my anger fresh and unassuaged, I was determined she get my message. She would not be groaning sweetly when I was done!
[2011 SpankBoss update: Google tells me this excerpt is now visible on the web at Pink Flamingo as part of the free teaser for an ebook called Reckless Disregard.]
I’ve noted, now and then, that spanking could become a commonly accepted practice if people would loosen up a little and look at our little hobby with an unjaundiced eye. As kinks go, it’s so widely spread that it almost is mainstream but ‘officially’ it can’t be accepted. Such is the case with Ewan McGregor’s new movie, Young Adam. In it, gasp!, Ewan has a scene where he spanks Emily Mortimer and then has sex with her. Apparently the censor board in the UK doesn’t much care for this sort of thing (they confuse consensual and nonconsensual spanking and call both ‘violent’.)
I don’t know if this movie is worth a darn, but I’ll keep my eyes open for it!
Yes folks, I’m going to be leaving you for awhile. Even spankos need vacations, and I’m taking a good long one. I’m going to be hunting and camping and road tripping and generally having a good old time, but none of it’s in handy range of the net.
Fortunately, Invidia and The Boss over at The Collar Purple have agreed to keep an eye on the place. The Boss has some pictures and links he’d like to share, and so what with one thing and another, there will be some goodies for you here while I’m gone, assuming all goes well and the technology holds up.
This is a test of of the Emergency SpankBoss Replacement System. In the event of the actual absence of SpankBoss, this message would have been followed by instructions, scoldings and exactly where your buttocks should be when I come back with the paddle.
Here are some excerpts from a story of hard punishment spanking. The story’s a little light on punctuation, but worthy for all that:
This is my final letter as my diary reaches it close. I want to end with two memories. The first is the hardest punishment spanking I ever received from you, and the second is how you introduced me to anal sex, something for which I am eternally grateful, as my new Master loves it.
It was again a stupid action by me which caused the punishment….
…
You told me that the rest of my punishment was to be administered now and would be the wooden paddle followed by the cane. My bum was already so sore that I did not know whether I could take more. But I had faith that, although you would push me to my ultimate limits, you would not abuse me, so I prepared myself.
This time it was the A-frame and it was already in position awaiting me. I stepped forward and heard you whisper “Courage” as I took up my position and you strapped me into place.
First was the wooden paddle – that most lethal of all instruments – which not only sears the bum, but which has holes that leave little blisters. The first stroke landed on my bum and I seemed to rise up as the pain coursed through me. The second and third followed, and then a final three. My whole bum area was now a mass of pain and I knew I must prepare myself for the cane.
I just found Hairbrush Action, a brand new spanking blog with links to all the cool kids. Everybody go visit and encourage Michael so he keeps up the good work.
Fair warning, though: right now the blog can be confusing, because the entries are actually excerpts of longer entries and there’s no visual indicator that you aren’t looking at the complete entry. The entry titles are links to the full entry (and to the very nice pictures) but again, they don’t look like links so it’s easy to miss. However, this blog is so new I think we can safely assume Michael is still tweaking his template.
Here’s another excerpt from an online spanking novel by Hawkwood. In this world, it seems, personal responsibility is demanded at a much higher standard, and enforced by punishments for all infractions against the social order, however minor:
With this last defense resting around Susan’s knees, he allowed himself a moment to enjoy the sight of her naked and shapely bottom in its naturally creamy appearance. Then he lifted the hairbrush and commenced her punishment.
The first swat caught her across the summit of her right cheek, and got her full attention right away. It was always apparent to Susan that her boss enjoyed performing this little duty. She could feel his erection against her belly, and it was always a little extra embarrassment. But the effect only lasted until the first stinging lick of the brush left her with no attention to spare for minor distractions.
Bill was very good at getting a maximum effect from his little brush. He was probably not as expert at inducing pain as Mr. Thompson, but his employees never had cause to complain of undue leniency. The antique brush was polished very smoothly on its back, the result of many years of application to bare female flesh. The hard maple wood was more than sufficient to light a moderate fire in a woman’s backside.
The first swat had brought a little gasp of surprise to the blonde’s lips. No matter how many times she was spanked by her boss, the first burning impact always startled her with its intensity. The second, which followed quickly on the other buttock was equally severe, but somehow more endurable for being less of a surprise.
Bill paused a moment to watch the twin oval marks on the rounded surfaces darken to a color like a rich wine. Presently, he applied another swat to each cheek, and after another moment, two more. By the time she had absorbed eight of the burning spanks, Susan began to squirm.
Clearly I don’t spend enough time in the clubs. Here is the lead from a story in the July 14/2003 Newsweek Magazine:
From the nursing home to … the nightclub? Bingo is being coopted by a younger generation, and a racier version has popped up at bars from New York to Los Angeles, complete with drag queens and spankings for calling false bingos.
I’m not sure I can survive the shame of having Spanking Blog get scooped on the spanking news by Newsweek Magazine….
Update: Invidia from Collar Purple very kindly sent along the following image and this bingo cartoon, both of which seem apropos to the spanking bingo story. Thanks!
Here’s a well-deserved domestic punishment spanking that ends (as I suspect many spankings do) with some pretty sexy submission from the wife:
*CRACK* The first stinging blow of the belt came as a surprise to Kelly her body shaking and suddenly attempting to break free as the harsh pain broke the flow of excitement that had enchanted her.
The belt came down again, the leather cracking against a new part of her ass, marking it’s passage with a bright red stripe. Kelly screamed and tried to scratch at Tom’s ankles, which brought another, harder, spank of the belt. Her eyes were clenched tight as the blows rained down on her tender ass, reddening the smooth white cheeks.
“Remember that time when we had a spanking contest to figure out who would be the one to spank our children?” Elise asked.
I had completely forgotten about that. Elise and I decided a long time ago that we will spank our children if the incriminating offense is severe enough to warrant such punishment. We both experienced it and agree that spanking is an acceptable form of punishment. That’s our opinion – like it or lump it. We’re not planning on being abusive, but if our children do really stupid stuff like what I did, they’ll get a spanking, just like I did. I don’t know about that whole ‘time out’ thing.
Anyway – I started laughing when I was reminded of our spanking contest. I don’t know how it all came about, but we decided to spank each other on the hind side to determine who spanks more effectively. It was always assumed by the both of us that I would be the strong arm of the law when it came to child rearing, but we went ahead and had a contest anyway.
I won. Of course, the competition was fierce. I am completely confident in Elise’s spanking abilities in my absence. This contest didn’t go without any temporary physical discomfort. My posture was noticeably better due to the involuntary cheek clenching that ensued shortly after my spanking. On my spank delivery, I busted a blood vessel in my right ring finger which caused it to double in size just below the first knuckle. Elise had a long lasting, skinny-fingered handprint on her gluteus maximus after my deliverance.
Our contest was all in fun. We laughed and made fun of ourselves throughout our pre-parenthood boot camp. We’re dorks. I love my dorky wife though and I know she will be a wonderful mother.
Last night I added another excellent blog to my blogroll called Captive Heart. It’s a very tender and loving blog about the adventures of Katy and her Master. Here’s a picture of Katy after a caning:
Here’s a brisk punishment spanking with all the trimmings:
The alarm goes off and I get my child off to school and do a few morning chores that don’t take long. There’s nothing to do but to wait. The bed looks inviting and I lie down to wait. Over and over I regret not having talked to Godmother, asked him what was I feeling. For not asking him, I am going to have my bottom paddled because I had the wrong answer. It’s so hard to be happy to see him and dread going over his knee at the same time. Crying isn’t an option, that always happens during a punishment spanking. He told me to drag out the hairbrush, which he intends to use when I rub my bottom when I am not supposed to. Again, that also always happens during a punishment spanking. Crying in the corner afterwards with my red bottom on display is right before the hardest part of the whole punishment spanking. The hardest part is being called over to him and trying to look into his eyes to see if I am really forgiven.
…
He sits in the wooden straight-backed spanking chair and I look down at the implements he wanted set next to the chair. A medium sized paddle is there for an intense paddling for lots of sting, the pancake flipper is there to add just the right amount of burn, and the hairbrush is there for when I reach back and rub my bottom without permission. Thor, the big heavy paddle, is used to seal in the heat deep in the tissues of my bottom and is used as the last implement. One swat of Thor will bring tears if the others have not met that objective. All the paddles are there that he requested, but I still continue to stare at them. Even looking at the paddles to be used on my bottom is better than seeing that he is disappointed in me.
Here’s part of a sweet love letter from a guy who is describing what life will be like once he and his beloved are living together. There is quite a lot more in this vein:
So, in celebration of the fact that this is the last time we won’t be together for Mija’s birthday, I thought I’d describe how I’m going to reward Mija for being so patient, and exactly what I’m going to do to her. Starting in a few months’ time. And then lasting forever.
I’m going to put Mija over my knee and spank her. Hard. On her bare bottom. Like the naughty little girl she is. I’m going to hold her tight while she kicks and squirms. I’m going to take her knickers down, so that they bind her legs together, and then I’m going to smack her thighs bright red.
…
I’m going to give Mija a bedtime spanking every night. If she’s been a good girl, it’ll be a warm and squirmy good-girl spanking. If she’s been a naughty girl, she’ll be walloped soundly with the hairbrush, or with my heavy hairbrush paddle, and then spend some quiet time sitting in the corner on the stool that I’m going to put there. Whether Mija has been good or naughty, I’m going to read her a bedtime story before we go to sleep.
…
I’m going to punish Mija when she misbehaves, and discipline her regularly even when she doesn’t. There’ll be simple, clear rules that keep her life structured and together. I’m going to expect that the rules will be obeyed.
I’m going to hold Mija, to kiss her and squeeze her, to trace my fingers through her hair, across all of her body, because none of it is secret. I’m going to squeeze her nipples, run my fingernails roughly across the welts on her bottom.
Didn’t you realise how mean I am?
I’m going to look after Mija. I’m going to keep her safe. I’m going to love her.
Here’s another one of those turn-of-the-century French salon postcards (perhaps from Biederer/Ostra?) with artfully posed nude models pretending to prepare for a birching:
Don’t you love the fierce expression on the lady with the birch?
Cecille’s new blog looks very promising. I love all these tales of submissives having fun, although one might wish there were more dominants writing about these sorts of scenes from their point of view. Is it just me, or are there WAY more female voices in the BDSM blogging scene than there are male ones? Anyway, here’s Cecille’s night with a friend:
“You look good with my cum on you. You did well in waiting for me like a good little slut. You even kept your bra on like I prefer. But you made a mistake didn’t you?”
I nodded and looked down.
“Yes you did. Touching me without permission. Now you have to be punished. Over the chest.”
I laid over the big chest at the foot of his bed, my tits hanging over one end, my ass and pussy over the over.
I felt his hand undo my bra and let him take it off me. Now I knew part of the punishment would be on my tits. He walked in front of me and put two tight, sharp clamps on my nipples. He pulled wires attached to the clips, and tied them to hooks on the edge of the chest. He pulled them tight, stretching my tis to their limit.
A few minutes later I felt cold gel being spread on my asshole. He worked a finger in my ass, and quickly replaced it with a large butt plug.
Suddenly the whipping began. When I jumped, I pulled on the clamp biting on my tits. The whipping came down fast and hard. I tried hard not to cry out, but between the blows on my ass and my tits being pulled, I let out a few screams. Some of the lashings landed on the butt plug, sending shocks through my ass. My pussy was soaked even though it hadn’t been touched. After a few minutes my mind was lost in a mix of pleasure and pain….
Here’s a very harsh story of a special women’s prison. Two inmates are punished for a lesbian dalliance, one with an extremely severe caning and the other by a brutal birching. An excerpt:
She straightened and hopped up and down on the training room
floor, her hands covering her bottom. It was an involuntary
act. She knew there was no way that she would be let off the
rest of her punishment, but she just couldn’t stay in place
any more as the already unbearable pain in her rear continued
to get worse and worse.
Angrily the sergeant grabbed her hands and forced her back
down over the desk. He called one of the male warders to hold
her down and looked towards Mrs Chambers for directions. “Two
penalty strokes, officer,” she ordered.
Sergeant Marlowe removed his uniform jacket and rolled his
right shirt sleeve up to his elbow. Then he took the cane
from Sharon and told her to stand back. He spat on his hands
and laid on the two hardest strokes Melissa had received that
day, aiming them expertly to land one on top of the other just
above the girl’s thighs. The effect on Melissa was
devastating. Her screams were heartbreaking and the warder
needed all his strength to hold her in place. The sergeant
handed the cane back to Sharon with another bow.
Here’s a fellow whose writing style seems informed by a few too many John Norman books, but he manages a wry humor that was never seen on Gor:
We wound through several corridors to a small room in the far side of the palace. There, as I had requested, the twins awaited me. My escort apologized for the small size and lack of comforts in the room, but allowed it was the only one with the pillar I had requested.
It was of no moment to me. The pillar in question was admirably decorated at the moment, and other comforts were not required. Surrounding the stone support were the naked bodies of Roxanne and Ariadne.
Their tied hands were raised overhead, and since no hook could be let into the stone, held there by the simple expedient of a rope from one pair of wrists, over a ceiling beam, to the other pair. Around their waists, in a clever addition to the Khitan procedure, was a wide leather belt, holding them both closely to the pillar, and making even more pronounced the thrust of their buttocks where the pillow fit under their bellies.
…
At my explorations, their complaints had been redoubled. They insisted that their father would avenge them horribly if I did not immediately release them and apologize abjectly for my abuses. There was only one answer for that, and I retrieved the quirt. The one who could see this raised an indignant and somewhat nervous objection, and the other, catching the tone of the complaint, added her voice. Ignoring them, I stepped up to the pillar and lashed the closest girl a hand of times across her inviting buttocks. She had screamed and struggled mightily, but was quite helpless to avoid my effort.
The second girl was rightly apprehensive when I walked around the pillar, and when her bottom also felt the lash, she added to the choir of pained response.
It required four hands apiece before the twins were quelled into sobbing quiet. Both bottoms were well decorated with angry weals, and squirming enthusiastically over the rising agony.
Into this quieter atmosphere, I began to interject some wisdom about the new state of affairs.
…
For the moment, I should perhaps add that their immediate choice was between my organ up their rump or four hands of vigorous strokes with the quirt. The one who promised most sincerely to please me would receive the first, while the other would have the second.
Again, they protested, but not so loudly.
I suggested that perhaps they were unfamiliar with the sensations between which they were required to choose. To rectify this, I approached one girl and intruded into her bowel with the long middle finger of my left hand. At the same time, I lashed the quirt across her upper thighs a hand of times.
Changing to the other twin, I repeated the procedure. Both girls were crying then, as much with indignation over their helplessness as with distress over the rising pain.
I asked then for a volunteer, and receiving none, resumed their chastisement, walking around the pillar and lashing indiscriminately at their identical bottoms….
And so forth, at entertaining length. If nothing else, this fellow amuses me by being almost as verbose as I am.
Here’s a fun story that starts out with two teenaged girls getting thoroughly paddled for poor academic performance. And then their father determines that it’s time to settle accounts with their tutor, who had promised him better results:
“Mr. Gentry, I’m really sorry about these grades,” Paula finally blurted out. “I’m sure with a little hard work we can bring them up by the end of the semester. It won’t happen again.”
“I’m sure it won’t,” the man said as he moved back to the chair behind the desk. “I’ve made sure of that with two-thirds of the parties involved and I’m just about ready to show the third party.”
“Oh Mr. Gentry, you can’t be serious,” Paula stammered out as a forced smile tried to mask her woes. “You really can’t be serious about that little wager we had for fun.”
“I’m perfectly serious,” the man said calmly. “Even if we didn’t have the wager, I would be looking for some kind of punishment for the teacher. This will just be a good opportunity to teach you that there is more than one way to get a message across to young minds.”
…
“Since you say that you have never been spanked before, I won’t use the paddle for this first time,” the man said as he made eye contact with the tutor. “Still, don’t think you are getting off easily. I plan to touch that seat of yours up pretty good before we go talk to my daughters about you punishing them with the paddle from now on.”
I just got a promotional email calling my attention to an interesting site: Kurt Stevens, Inc. Kurt has for sale a huge variety of classic, and long-out-of-print spanking books, magazines, and videos. Some of the stock appears to be new old stock, some appears to be reprints, but it’s all worth a look!
OK, the whole women-spanking-men thing doesn’t get much play here, because it doesn’t do a lot for your humble host. But a good story is a good story, and sometimes a spanking story takes an unexpected turn. This one starts out promisingly enough:
Megan dropped a hand to her bottom, rubbing it through her pajamas. He always makes me pay for coming to bed this late. Though it was clear he knew she often did it deliberately.
She sighed, remembering the last time she’d worked past midnight. Her husband had been particularly peeved that night. Probably just horny and tired of waiting, she thought with a smile. Squirming at her desk the next day under senior partner McKavey’s gaze hadn’t been as much fun as what followed David’s leather belt.
Megan felt a tingle between her thighs. Maybe it is a shame David is away. A long sexy spanking and a roll in the sack would be nice right about now. She closed her report. Enough work for tonight. She fired up her computer’s movie player, browsing for David’s latest spanking clips. It was nice to have a husband with shared interests. At least she could fantasize about what she should be getting when she went to bed.
One movie followed another, naughty “schoolgirls” howling under hand, strap and the cane. Megan was breathless with excitement. Oh, to be spanked for a uniform violation!
But then the story takes the unexpected turn:
She opened another file; a woman in a tailored suit was dealing with an errant man over her lap, her hairbrush coming down hard. David must have downloaded this one by mistake. She opened another file, amateurish footage of a broadly built woman caning an older man. Another mistake? She opened another file, almost the same, only the woman was younger and dressed in tacky green pvc.
Four years of law school and two years earning her stripes as an associate kicked into play. Surely not!
Megan trawled through the computer. Four folders under “David’s Work Stuff” she found her prize, carefully hidden in a folder “Programming 101”. Thousands of images, stories and movies, all carefully cataloged. A collection almost as large as the one they shared for mutual titillation, only women spanking men, all of them.
Oops! David is so busted! She eventually confronts him right after she gets her own hard spanking. And then a little later, she calls him at work:
David, I’ve decided to spank you when you get home. Very hard, just like you deserve.”
David let out an incoherent mumble. To see his face now, that would be priceless.
“You know, I’m going to use that wicked hairbrush. The wooden one you bought for me. Ironic isn’t it. But you know what?”
“Umm…what Megan?” David was trying to keep his voice level, but a polygraph machine would have been smoking.
“Well I’ve been thinking about you, hiding stuff from me for years, me tanning your bottom with the brush. It’s making me hot, I’m going to love it.”
“I’m um… glad to hear that.”
Megan smiled at her husband’s discomfort. “All agreed then. And it’s going to be a ‘tears spanking’ too honey. I think you know the term. Now have a good day, and don’t be late.”
Megan cut the call, knowing she’d leave her flustered husband holding onto a dead line.
And then she delivers, with a righteous but good-natured vengeance.
I’ve been reading deep in the archives at Lessons Learned, which is the name of Lisa’s journal that I linked to yesterday. Here she talks about the link so many BDSM people don’t talk openly about, between the pain play and the sex:
After a brief stint on my knees, Master told me that I need a serious beating. Not as punishment, but that it keeps my head in the right space. The simple little stuff that’s he being doing to me has been fun, but he says I need to get pushed hard early and often in order to stay feeling subby.
I wish that wasn’t the case. But there is a different dynamic between us surrounding the days when we play that hard. When I know it’s coming, I can’t get it off my mind. And after, I’m a mush puddle for days. I just wish I didn’t need the “during” to feel that way.
I think he likes the whole effect. He likes keeping me on my toes before, and he’ll talk about how hard he’s going to whip me, how he’ll make me scream and cry, what he’ll use to make me scream, how he’ll enjoy it.
And he certainly gets off on the actual deed. It’s never based on a premise of punishment or in anger, but it is intense. He’s gets a firmness of voice and motion as he prepares for the scene. The laying out of the whips is scary all by itself. It’s rare to get much of a build-up, when he’s pushing me to the limits deliberately. When I get to the point of crying and screaming, there are no “breaks”, no chances to calm myself down again. It’s like getting on a roller coaster with no control over the hills and valleys once you’re strapped in.
And after, he always fucks me. He always makes me come over and over. He tells me that’s deliberate. He likes to make the connection in my head between heavy whippings and awesome orgasms. It’s a whole other level of losing control, because after I’ve been treated so harshly, I’m not eager for his touch for a few minutes. I cringe away from him, and he always works us through it, until I’m arching into him and completely uninhibited. Sometimes it’s hard to get me over that hump — I hold onto what little control I have, and fight not to come. I don’t want to give him that last piece, but it never lasts.
These types of scenes are always done in private. I don’t think other people would understand how hard he pushes me, why it’s good for us. My protests are real and loud. I beg and scream and cry for him to stop. He says that makes him even harder.
I know I had something semi-profound to say about that, but I, er, got distracted and forgot what it was.
Ok, I’m getting complaints from people about the harsh pictures and serious BDSM links I’ve been posting lately. I’m a little bit sorry about that, since I want my readers to be happy, but I do try to cover the spectrum. However, it’s clearly time for some balance, so here’s a cute and harmless spanking picture courtesy of Beaten Asses:
An implied spanking from an angry teddy bear with a shoehorn, what could be more mild, pleasant, and safe than that?
Trinity has found the rules page for The Spanking Club of New York. And, as she points out, they forbid so much, it’s unclear just what club members are doing that’s supposed to be fun. The “No Erotic Spanking” rule has her particularly puzzled:
Okay, but if I’m not supposed to get wet when I’m hitting the boys… why should I show up? :) And how exactly am I supposed to stop an involuntary reaction, anyway? *grin*
I must say, that seems like a reasonable question to me.
Another reader has found this source of mystery carpet beaters. Size, material, and sturdiness is unknown, but they cost $22 plus shipping and come in blue, green, pink, and yellow. If anybody orders one of these, please send in a review!
Kinky at Kinky Bits likes her some spankings. Just look:
i got a spanking today.
This is newsworthy, because being spanked is one of my favorite things ever. Stingy delicious pain, and lots of physical contact with Sir. i love his hands on my body, especially when they’re hurting me.
There are more examples scattered through her blog, but you get the idea. Yummy!
Here’s a sordid tale of a waitress who really needs her job, and a grumpy boss who knows it:
He turned and stepped back. He had positioned the chair just next to the entrance to the room, so had plenty of space to swing the dreaded rod. He placed it gently across the centre of her buttocks – lining it up on her – and tapped it gently. She could hardly bear this: she wanted to jump up and run away – but she knew that whatever he did, it couldn’t be worse than the alternatives.
She shut her eyes. She felt a rush of air as Hogan whisked the cane down across her backside.
At first, she felt nothing – the blow numbed her. But then – but then. It felt as if someone was branding her – the pain scorched through her whole body like nothing she had ever felt before. She held onto the chair legs desperately.
Again, he brought the stick down. Another blow – just above the first. And again, a few seconds later, the agony, spreading across her backside and through her.
He paused. Stepped back, then delivered another cracking stroke, below the other two. She gasped with pain. This was unbearable.
Here’s a piece of “Buffy the Vampire Slayer” fanfic that includes, among other things, some explicit and not entirely consensual f/f oral sex, and a very hot spanking. It seems that “Willow’s Been Naughty“:
Tears fell unheeded from her eyes as she whimpered and moaned at the unfamiliar pain, twisting and kicking her legs and trying to free her hands, anything to escape. It hurt so much and he didn’t seem to be planning to stop anytime soon. Each blow seemed to fall in a new place, sending new waves of pain rocketing through her.
But, suddenly, a thought popped into her head. Her lover was spanking her. Touching her naked bottom, hitting her naked bottom. She realized that her wetness was soaking into his leg. She could feel his cock hard and pulsing against her lower stomach. The heat from her burning bottom spread like wildfire. At the next crack of his hand, she thrust her pussy against his leg, moaning in agonized pleasure.
Spike smiled at that sound. That wasn’t all pain. Shifting her slightly, he spread her legs and brought his hand down low, slapping hard across her thighs, catching the very edge of her wet pussy. Willow yelped, trembling, gasping for breath. He hit her there again and she danced on his lap, her bright red bottom shaking in pain and pleasure.
Invidia has bested me in a game of web searching, by finding a site that sells the much sought after carpet beaters. However, the ones she found appear to be made of willow rather than the traditional cane. Still, worth a look!
Here’s a picture of a spanking with The Boss’s favorite thing, a bath brush. Clearly he’s a man who judges the worth of his toys by the reaction they get!
P.S. I have it on the best authority that he fudged that poll. For shame! Also, snicker.
Here’s a page with a number of shorter spanking stories and vignettes supposedly contributed by readers. I like the buildup in this one:
Her head lowered as she now got ready to leave the restaurant. “Before you stand up, take your panties off, now.” She started to object but realized it would only make things worse. So she looked around and slipped her hand inside her black skirt and removed them as quickly as possible, trying not to draw attention. She noticed the older gentlemen eyeing her suspiciously at the table next to theirs. Obviously, he knew what she was doing.
As she began to ball up the black satin thongs and put them into her purse when the command came through stern and clear. “Put them in the middle of the table and leave them there. I want everyone to see why we are leaving our half eaten meal” She gasped, but complied. He walked around and pulled her chair out for her as she stood with cheeks red from shame. He grabbed her wrist and led her to the jeep like a misbehaved child is led out of a store.
…
When they finally walked through the front door of his apartment, he told her to go straight to the bedroom, get his wide black leather belt, undress and kneel down at the foot of the bed. As nervous and worried as she was, she felt that all too familiar tingle in her pussy causing the insides of her thighs to become damp. No matter what her previous punishments were, she knew she always came out with the better end of the deal. So maybe she need not be too worried.
Here’s a “true” story from summer camp. It involves a pretty young counselor whose cabin girls get a little public spanking payback:
The girls had decided to use a ping pong paddle on their counselor’s blue-jean covered butt. Each of the girls in the cabin (there was twelve of them) would deliver two swats to Kathy’s waiting behind.
SMACK! SMACK! One after the other, the girls took their turn delivering the spanks. Kathy’s buns bounced with each slap of the unforgiving paddle. The girls wasted no time with maybe smacking one cheek and then the other — instead, each swat was landed firmly in the roundest, fullest part of her fanny — dead center, so that both cheeks felt it!
The young camp counselor shivered in anticipation as the paddle was handed from one girl to the next. Her full round bottom cheeks trembled as they awaited the next stinging spanks. She also shook in reaction to each firm smack from the paddle.
About half of the girls thought of the spanking as a playful joke and gave Kathy only light swats. However, the rest of the girls made full use of this opportunity to teach their counselor a lesson. Out of the twenty four total spanks, I’d say 12 of them were the firmest, stingingest, and loudest smacks anyone has ever been subjected to!
After the last swats, Kathy was allowed to stand straight up. Her face was BEET RED with embarassment (I imagine her buns were red too). She was teary-eyed, and totally humiliated. At the same time, however, she couldn’t hide her smile. Obviously, the humiliation of a public spanking had sparked a sexual reaction within her.
Here’s a story about a guy who spanks his girlfriend for blowing off a tutoring session she promised him. But read on if you wish it had been the other way around. After she gets spanked, she discovers with some outrage that he didn’t bother to study for the tutoring session. And the tables are turned, with a vengeance.
“OWW!” The last blow caught the under-curve of your bottom, and I
hear you hissing through your teeth at the pain. “This isn’t fair!”
I rub your cheeks lovingly. “You were late, and you aren’t taking this
seriously,” I tell you in that reasonable, matter-of-fact tone that
you absolutely hate.
‘Robert, I am *sorry* really sorry I was late.” You say this calmly, as if
you were sitting in the professor’s office and not laying across my
lap with your naked behind in the air. “I swear, I am taking this
seriously, sweetheart.” {SPANK,SPANK,SPANK} “OWW!! Damn it, Robert!
That *hurts.*”
“I am going to make that A in this class,” I tell you. “You told me
you would help me do it.”
“And I will, Robert, but you need to let me up. You’ve made your
point,” you saying squirming.
{Spank,Spank,Spank,Spank}
Your legs kick up and down, and I can see you sobbing. Your bottom is quite
warm to the touch. “You’re going to be prepared from here on out, Jackie,”
I tell you as I {Spank} again.
“For the rest of the semester, you’re going to be prepared and on
time.”
{SPANK!!} “AAHOWWW!!! Yess, I, I’ll be prepared.” You begin to weep,
and your shoulders shake.
{SPANK!} “For the rest of the semester?”
{SPANK!!!} This last blow breaks you. Tears are streaming down your
face as you choke out ” I swear, Robert, for the rest of the semester,
I’ll be prepared and ready to tutor you.”
Although I don’t post very much on this blog about school spankings and other kid-related stuff, I can hardly be ignorant of the fact that many people have spanking fantasies that are tied to school discipline. So I simply must share this tidbit, which comes from the end of a tragic historical article about a young schoolteacher who was assaulted with stones by four of her pupils in 1870:
In his book “A Brief History of Education, ” C.E. Hubley writes of a German schoolmaster named Hauberle who delivered 911,527 blows with a cane; 124,010 blows with a rod; 20,989 blows with a ruler; and 136,715 blows with his hand over the course of his 51 years as a teacher.
Young boys in Hauberle’s classroom were rapped on the mouth, head and had their ears boxed. The schoolmaster also punished his young charges by making them kneel on peas or upright triangular pieces of wood. Others were forced to wear a jackass cap, or hold a rod up in the air. Early societies believed that strong discipline and physical punishment were the best methods of instructing children, and did little to discourage such tyrants in the classroom.
Here’s a classic tale of domestic discipline, only it gets interesting when the spanked wife’s bratty sister bursts in:
James surveyed the crimson, twitching bottom of his contrite, well-spanked wife with satisfaction. Elizabeth lay exhausted, but incredibly aroused. She moved her bottom in response to her husband’s caressing hand and lifted her cheeks hoping that it would stray between her legs. Suddenly the silence was broken by the kitchen door swinging open and a suitcase landing on the floor before them. Standing there, open-mouthed at the scene before her stood Elizabeth’s younger sister Katherine.
“What on earth!!! Liz! What in heaven’s name?!…” she spluttered. Elizabeth scrambled off James’ knee and clamped both hands to her scorched cheeks.
“Have you ever heard of knocking at the front door young lady, before you enter people’s homes via their back door?” breathed James, apparently totally unperturbed by this interruption to proceedings. He stood up and crossed to the bar and poured three drinks.
Elizabeth felt her face colouring as red as her rear and then suddenly she wasn’t embarrassed at all, rather, she felt very like giggling.
Katherine began pacing the room, “I’ve left that beast Steven. He… he told me I was a spoilt brat just because I wanted a new car. And what’s going on here!”
“My dear,” said James with a smile, “Steven is totally correct. You are a brat. As for what is going on here, Elizabeth has been very naughty this week and I have just finished giving her a very thorough spanking. Something which, I may add, you also have been needing for a very long time.”
Elizabeth looked from James to her sister and, despite her sniffling and very sore bottom, burst out laughing.
“I don’t think that’s funny!” said Katherine suddenly, beginning to cry.
It had taken several minutes of firm direction from James to quieten the uproar and have both young ladies seated on the couch, Elizabeth perched on a satin cushion, wriggling her sore derriere uncomfortably. A few drinks later the story had emerged how Katherine’s husband Steven had committed the heinous crime of denying his young wife a Porsche. At this news, both James and Elizabeth had roared with laughter and said as one, that Kathy was a spoilt brat.
And then Elizabeth had explained why she had ‘changed’ as her sister had put it so often in the last few years.
“I was an obnoxious brat just like you, Kathy, ’till James spanked some sense into me, that is, and thank heavens he hasn’t stopped my lessons. I still get it once a week.”
She looked at James for approval and he smugly sipped his drink and winked at her.
“And I think…” looking at her husband once again for approval, then at her sniffling younger sister, “it’s about time that you also had a lesson!”
“The whipping—it’s all over the place,” Traden said. “I don’t know whether she’s trying to whip my ass or my elbows. It’s just not the same getting flogged by someone who’s barely paying attention. And her ordering-around has been totally indecisive.”
