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In line with the recent posts about the startling uses of ginger, I was struck by an evil spice-related thought today while eating my lunchtime supermarket sushi.
In a word: wasabi.
Imagine me laughing my most villainous laugh.
Bethie, who puts most of the joy in my life these days, is going to get a bath brush spanking. And she knows it.
She’s coming to visit soon. We’re both very excited. And of course, this means that spanking toys must be procured.
So, way back on the 5th of December, we were chatting on the phone and I threatened to buy her the infamous Vermont Country Store bath brush. I had the web page up on my screen and my credit card in my hand and everything. She does not think this is a good idea, for some odd reason. “You don’t need one of those!” quoths Bethie. “I have lots of bath brushes.”
By this time I am about to start typing in my credit card information. “So? What good does that do me?”
“I’ll send you one. I’ll send you two! In fact, I’ll go down to the post office on Monday and send them right to you. You don’t need to order one.”
Being the suspicious fellow that I am: “You’ll send them on Monday? Without fail? This isn’t just a ploy to keep me from making the order?” I’m teasing, I think.
“I’ll send them, I promise!”
“OK.” So I forbear from ordering.
Time passes. No bath brushes arrive.
Eventually I mention them. “Oh! I forgot! Don’t worry, I’ll send them next time I get to the post office! I have to mail your Christmas present anyway.”
I figure perhaps a bath brush will be included in or with that package, so I wait patiently. The Christmas package arrives. No sign of a bath brush, but there’s a wrapped present inside. Possibly, possibly. I hold my peace.
Christmas arrives. I unwrap a very nice gift. But you guessed it: still no bath brush.
“Oh! I forgot again! I was so busy with Christmas and all. Don’t worry, I’ll send them to you, I promise!”
“Uh, when?”
“As soon as I can, I guess….”
“You do realize that you’re getting a spanking for all these delays, one bath brush stroke for every day of difference between the December 8 date you promised to send them and the actual postmark on the package?”
Silence. Then: “Ulp….” An entertaining hour of discussion follows: mock outrage, professions of astonishment that I might be serious, heartfelt pleas for me to reconsider, earnest promises to post bath brushes forthwith, etc. I am unmoved.
This was on Christmas day. Yesterday, four (!) postal days later, after at least that many entertaining efforts to talk me out of my resolve, she finally put the bath brushes in the mail. December 30. 30 minus 8 equals 22.
And that’s only one of the spankings she’s got coming….
I got a nice letter from Luray, who wrote in to share her New Years
Eve spanking ritual:
Well, I’ve never written you before, but I do love your site. I discovered my
love for spanking at a young age, and a few years ago I found a loving man
who was willing to use it to keep me in line. (God do I love him.) When I read
the 12 days of spankings posted on the blog I thought I would share our New
Years Eve tradition.Through out the year I am required to keep a journal of
all the offenses I have been punished for. It is a rather detailed account of
each spanking, why I received it, what was used, how many swats I received,
and so on and so forth. Well, on new years eve I kneel before my love and read
each spanking story to him. When I have finished he takes me over my knee and
spanks me one last time for each offense. With each swat I am required not
only to count but to name the offense that it is for, to apologize for my
offense, and to thank him for the spanking.So far this year my journal has
almost a spanking for every week. I will receive 51 spankings as a final
payment for my offenses and then and only then will I be able to start the
new year with a clean slate, not to mention a red bottom. It is a loving
experience, but also shameful to have to remember all the things I did that
caused him disappointment. I love this “judgement” day.Feel free to post this. I think every one should do it. It really is a
freeing experience.
Thanks, Luray!
Ah, the dubious pleasures of agrarian life. Here we have a young farmer’s wife being birched over a barrel for shirking her labors at the cider press:
I can hear the lecture all too well: “What’s that? You don’t want to turn the cider press? Well, you like to drink the cider well enough….”
I’d say the art is probably by Paula Meadows.
See Also:
She explains:
Maybe it’s like Thomas Hardy said about the Titanic and the iceberg… when my ass was formed, the Immanent Will of the universe formed the cane to be its sinister mate. It certainly jars two hemispheres.
I’m pleased to discover that the last post inspired some serious holiday spanking. Majesty’s wench reports:
Majesty wore me out yesterday morning before He went to work. I had asked Him if He would beat me on New Years Eve (ringing in the New Year, setting the tone, you know?) and He asked if anyone was awake. When I said no, He told me He would beat me right then. Well, I wasn’t ready to be beaten right then, and told Him. Which only made Him more determined to do it. I didn’t protest over-much though (not enough to make Him angry with me), took my position on the bed and presented my bottom to Him. He used the tawse on me, and He was not nice with it. I asked Him the other day if He could make pretty stripes like those on the ‘well oiled girl’ on SpankBoss’s site, and He said then that I couldn’t take it, to which I replied that I thought I could. So, yesterday morning, He was of the mind to find out whether I could or not. I squirmed some, and moved some, and squealed some, but I took it. Then I told Him I was mad at Him for being mean. I was being petulant. But He fixed it, and I was OK. Now I can’t wait for Him to tear me up again, only worse this time. I seriously am confusing, I think.
All I can say is “Pictures! We want pictures!” {evil grin}
A hunting fantasy from IsisOasis:
I run away, but it is in vain, i am severely handicapped by being barefoot and bound, He knows i wont get far. He is teasing me. He wants it to last. My feet and legs get scratched by brambles and stones in my way, my feet become cold and numb, knees muddy. Each time i fall over, He waits for me to get up and stumble on. He is the predator with strength and arrogance to show no mercy.I am the prey of his desire, defenceless and vulnerable. In the end – exhausted – I want to be caught.
Then i am there on my knees and He has hold of my hair, pulling my head back, looking down into my face with superiority and lust. He drags me to a pile of damp leaves – his only concession to my welfare – and still up on my knees, makes me bend over with my forehead on the ground. Commands me not to move – i cannot see what He is doing.
He is getting something out of His belt and i make out that it is a horsewhip. I know that my buttocks and thighs shall be punished for running away. I shall be disciplined to make me obey and to give Him pleasure in watching me writhe in pain with each lash of the whip
Mmmm, now where did I park my horse?
OK, a one-horse open sleigh this ain’t, but the dashing through the snow part is right, and I can almost hear the sleigh bells jingling merrily on the thigh straps of these delicious draft animals. Not to mention the hearty “KRA-ACK!” of that carriage whip zinging in to encourage lagging sleigh-pony girls to greater efforts….
A merry Christmas indeed.
Christmas 2012 update: I found a cleaner, larger version of the artwork and (if you click through) you can see the artist’s signature is “Turk”.
See Also:
So, a young couple were making passionate love in the guy’s van
(you know, shag carpets, big double mattress in the back…
all that) when suddenly the girl, being a bit on the kinky
side, yells out “Oh big boy, whip me, whip me!”
The guy, not wanting to pass up this unique opportunity,
obviously did not have any whips to hand, but in a flash of
inspiration, he opens the window, snaps the aerial off his
van and proceeds to whip the girl six ways from Sunday,
until she collapses in an orgasmic pile of endorphins.
About a week later, the girl notices that the marks left by
the whipping session are starting to fester a bit so she
goes to the doctor. The doctor takes one look at the wounds
and asks, “Did you get these marks having sex?”
The girl is a little embarrassed but admits that, yes, she did.
Nodding his head knowingly the doctor exclaims, “I thought
so, because in all my years of doctoring…
(wait for it)
.
.
.
…you’ve got the worst case of van aerial disease that I’ve
ever seen!”
Hoo, boy, The Boss knows how to have him some holiday fun:
We are starting a new tradition around here: The 12 spanking days of Christmas. On the first day, I’m going to give Invidia one cane swat. On the second she gets two hand swats and then one cane swat. Etc., etc., all the way up to the very exciting twelfth day. (Invidia can hardly wait. Dare I say she’s aquiver with excitement?) I still haven’t decided on the roster of implements, but I’ll have that down by the 25th, you can be sure!
Sing it with me, people! “On the twelfth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me….” For the math-impaired, The Boss is talking about 12 + 11 + 10 + 9 + 8 + 7 + 6 + 5 + 4 + 3 + 2 + 1 = 78 swats of various kinds on the twelfth day of Christmas, delivered of course onto a bottom likely still to remember the previous day’s 66. Assuming he delivers the full suite of Christmas gifts, allowing not his hand to be stayed by pity, etc….
Here’s a very understated slave spanking from Rask – nothing fancy, but all the more believable for that reason:
I pulled the slave’s gown up today and held her down by her hair while I spanked her bare bottom. She has very gradually been pushing me with little transgressions of word or deed. When I got up this morning, coffee was not ready. At dinner, she got lippy. I often overlook these things because she works so hard for me, but I thought it was time to reestablish the proper balance in our relationship. The dog tried to interfere, as usual, but I had determined to call his bluff. It turned out he was unwilling to actually attack me.
Vikki has found some cute panties that say “I’ve been naughty” on the front and “Spank Me” on the back. I so know someone who needs six pairs.
But isn’t it sad they chose to use a model so starved and unhealthy-looking that it’s very hard to see the difference between the front and rear shots above? She has starved her own butt away. Who wants to spank a buttless woman?
(Not to turn this into a rant or make anybody feel bad about their body type, but go click through and look at the full body shots – she actually has a sunken hollow in the side of her “bottom” between the main muscle group and her protruding (ouch!) hip bone. She’s forgotten that sexual attractiveness is inextricably linked with signs and signals of fertility. This woman doesn’t look like she could survive a hard winter, much less feed a baby through one!)
Normally I don’t have much truck with horoscopes, but this week’s horoscopes from The Eye include a promising gem for any of you who happen to be Aries:
As it turns out, this year, Aries, you get some really cool presents. And romance looks especially good for you — a little on the nasty side, too. Someone wants to teach you a lesson and you’re more than willing to be taught. Spanking is involved.
Gary Switch very kindly sent along a fan-fic of sorts: the episode of The Avengers that he always wanted to see. Like this:
Steed slashes horizontally, the cane’s blinding speed increased by a practiced last-moment wrist flick. Its final six inches cut deeply and evenly into the taut, athletic swell of Mrs. Peel’s sacrificial buttocks. The cracking impact rings out in the small chamber. Mrs. Peel’s face slowly contorts in agony. Then with steely control, she cries out in a hoarse, low register, “One, thank you Sir!”
From School Daze by Gary Switch.
Ah, the simple pleasures of a quiet evening at home, a cane, and a blonde who is having trouble learning her lines:
Sir decided to help me learn my rule, the one that says that i must say Sir. Well, i wasn’t learning that rule very well so he decided the only way i wouldn’t be confused is if i said Sir, or Master, with every sentence. i love to be obedient but saying it with every sentence sounds retarded, so i groaned inwardly when he informed me of the new game plan.
From the time he got home last night until we went to bed i lost count of the number of strokes of the cane i received. i think most people threatened with a stroke of the cane would have learned alot sooner than i. At one point, we were discussing how embarassed i was that i was having so much trouble remembering and i didn’t even remember to say Sir with that sentence! i was mortified!
i felt even dumber then dumb and dumber when every time i forgot i had to hand him the cane and i had a stupid grin on my face that i couldn’t get rid of for the life of me. i don’t know what was more embarrassing; the dumb grin that i couldn’t hide everytime i had to hand him the cane or the fact that it seemed impossible that, over and over, i could forget something i was caned for only moments before. One would think that i like being elevated off the floor by the sheer pain of a cane stroke. Not the force mind you, the little hop that i do after impact. Allow me to assure you that i do not like the cane no matter how the grin on my face would speak otherwise. i think it must be that i can’t help grinning when i’m nervous and feeling dopey.
He must have been amused last night because he was much more interested in asking me questions than ever before. He just kept me talking and talking and talking…. Finally, i caught on to the unusual amount of chatter. He was enjoying this!
Of course he was! What’s not to like? Besides, I bet that little hop is hella cute.
Here’s an old gem of an illustration in the Chinese style. Is this a servant girl being punished, or a young bride being encouraged? Or is this just good old-fashioned kink for kink’s sake? We’ll never know.
This ginger business appears to have captured the popular imagination on a scale I never imagined. After my post two days ago, Hairbrush Action weighed in with an item including two more links: Creative Uses Of Ginger and the exhaustively detailed Figging: The Art of Anal Ginger Root Play. From the latter:
Caning, a very popular form of punishment, especially for the female miscreant, was elevated to an art form itself. There is evidence that figging actually had it’s beginnings when ginger was used in a caning victim’s anus to prevent her from clenching her buttocks during punishment. Clenching one’s butt while it hosts ginger causes an intense burning sensation.
…
When playtime rolls around, I usually like to have my sub bound, face down on the bed over a pillow. No blindfold here. I make it a point of allowing her to watch and hear me prepare the ginger. The anticipation is spectacular especially if she’s never experienced it before. The gyrations generated from the anticipation alone are well worth the experience.
Meanwhile, back at the ranch, Invidia from The Collar Purple weighed in today (scroll for first 12.18.03 entry) with demure, understated disapproval, posting a delicious-sounding muffin recipe under the title “Safe And Sane Uses For Ginger”. Apparently The Boss doesn’t mind having fun poked at him by his subbie as long as she’s subtle enough about it. Boss, I do believe you’ve just been accused (by negative implication) of being unsafe and insane….
So I have been teasing Bethie about buying her that electric bug-zapper spanking toy they call The Zapper:
The kinky gear experts at a place that used to sell this paddle make it sound pretty mean:
These zapper paddles are constructed of lightweight plastic and aren’t well-suited for heavy swats, but can be used lightly and don’t require any force once the electricity is flowing. These paddles put out an intense spark and will probably mainly appeal to heavier players…
The pictures are from a Whipped Ass photoshoot where you can see the zapper paddle in heavy use. (It turns out that Princess Kali had already pre-warmed Sara Tonen’s bottom with another implement before the zapper paddle came out, as you can see here).
When I went looking for movies of this scene, all I could find was this one tiny clip, but it’s worthy: Sara whimpers impressively as she’s shocked with the paddle.
However, I also found this shoot from Men In Pain where Princess Kali used one of these zapper paddles on a submissive man named Wild Bill, and managed to get quite an amazing reaction out of him! Big strong man he may be, but Wild Bill just cannot stop shouting and drumming his toes on the floor and twitching like a maniac.
Somewhere Thomas Edison is smiling in his grave.
See Also:
OK, so it’s not spanking. But it sounds like a sure way to get somebody to beg for a spanking.
First there was Slavish (via Bondage Blog):
Master gently rubbed a very small amount of lubricant against my tight ass hole and then i felt the coldness of the ginger being pushed high up inside my ass and secured into place by a strap. At first the ginger felt cool but the sensation soon changed and i felt it warming up, after a few minutes i was writhing about on the bed,unable to get away from the searing burning heat of the ginger throbbing up inside my ass hole. i concentrated on riding the pain and that actually worked until Master used his fingers to push the ginger up higher and then the pain became almost unbearable.
To take my mind off the pain Master decided to flog my ass and back with the knotted flogger and also with the crop…ouch it particularly hurt when Master caught my shoulder with the crop…
When Master eventually took the ginger out it felt like such a relief although my ass hole stayed sore and tender for the rest of the evening.
And then there was The Boss at The Collar Purple (you’ll have to look for the November 17, 2003 archive entry):
We’ve found in our experimentation that actual vaginal insertion produces little to no effect. It’s much better held to the clitoris (after applying straps and ropes at times!) The advantage of anally is that the darn thing will stay in with little to no effort. Yeah, I’m adding to the ‘lazy Dom’ stereotype as well.
Depending on how long you keep the ginger applied (and how fresh it was), the burn can linger for a few minutes to an hour after removal. Reportedly in extreme cases, you can feel it for a day or two afterwards but the sensation is more of a warmth than a pain after the initial sting dies down.
As a historical note, unscrupulous horse traders used to shove a knob or two in a horse’s anus to make them more ‘lively’ for unwary buyers. It works on humans the same way, heh. Having sex with someone currently writhing from a knob of ginger is quite entertaining for the more sadistic Doms out there. As you may have guessed, this is how I like to use it. Invidia also reports this pushes her pain/pleasure buttons quite nicely if we use it clitorally for awhile until she begs for it be gone and then we have sex immediately afterwards. I theorize that the increased bloodflow to the affected site also increases sensitivity. Have fun cooking!
And now, reminding me of all this, Into The Zone weighs in with some practical tips:
The acidity of it can vary from one person to another so I strongly suggest 1st time use be done up front only as rear experimentation can be done at a later time.
If the victi…errrmm lucky recipient is on their back with legs spread, you will also want to cut a sliver to lay on the clit for awhile to speed up the effect.
The plug shaped piece is to slip just far enough inside the vagina to supply contact between the ginger juices and her own..which will flow more readily once the ginger is applied. After about 5-10 minutes you can remove the sliver from the clit and proceed with your pussy flogging or clamping etc.
You can only have them roll onto their stomach to apply some lovely flogging and/or caning and believe me, they WILL want it more and harder!
Kinky as I am, it’s always a delight to discover there are people even more evil and creative than me.
Today’s image to make you go “Hmm” is another one of those freaky Koonago spanking pictures:
Don’t ask me to explain.
“…is not strain’d; it droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven.” No, wait, that was a different story. Reindexing….
Oh yes. Danor the freelance brat. Got caned, no surprise there. Enjoyed it, which is interesting. Described it beautifully, which is why I am mentioning it:
The harshness of the strokes varied, but never hugely from one to the next, and I discovered that there’s something about that particular quailty of pain that really zones me out. I was completely relaxed, completely at peace… it was better than a massage. I think I could have fallen asleep if I’d let myself go completely. I made soft noises to let Kam know I was still there, but I was breathing deeply and regularly, my mind completely blank of anything but the music, the rhythmic burning strokes, and Kam somewhere behind me, calm and in control.
…
I’m not sure why the cane has such a different effect on me than other implements. It might have something to do with noise– I HATE loud noises, and the paddle, the belt, the hairbrush and the hand, when used hard enough to be effective, all make loud smacking noises that startle me every time so that I can’t relax (not that this is a bad thing, in most scenes). It might have to do with the quality of the pain; the cane has that blend of sting and thud that somehow just works for me, and it occurs in lines which are manageable increments (rather than, say, large ovals). Whatever it is, when Kam and I finally get to live together, I might beg for a nightly caning, to cleanse me of the day’s problems and worries, and send me off to dreamland with my bottom nice and toasty warm.
If you have a subbie who is scared of the very idea of the cane, make her read this. Unless, of course, you’re having too much fun with threats and promises….
Here’s a fine old pair of ancient photographs showing the timeless game of a man, a woman, and a whip:
Several of the folks at the spanking and BDSM blogs I link to (especially the ones who also publish pictures and artwork) have asked me how I pay for the bandwidth that gets burned here. It’s no mystery; I use affiliate links, although I try my best to keep them discrete, on-topic, and surfer-friendly. However, it’s been a long and painful process finding sponsors with quality sites that I can recommend in good conscience and that won’t completely hose my readers’ computers with endless chains of popups and deceptive spyware downloads. So, for you folks who have asked, here’s a list of a few sponsors I can wholeheartedly recommend: Spanking Blog Recommended Sponsors.
Danor is such a tease. Somebody really needs to spank her for that. Kam, are you reading this? Good Christ, man, why? You have work to do!
It’s like this. The other day, Danor posted a wish list of expensive goodies under the title “Greedy Little Sub”. She then fell to musing about the fun to be had even with cheap toys:
Our best kinky toys cost less than $20 or were found around the house: $2 Ping-Pong paddle, $1 soft clothesline rope, hairbrush, belt, candles, store brand lube, $6 riding crop, $15 cane, $0.50 wooden spoon, $1 deck of cards, free handcuffs (a promotional for some sorority party on campus here), $11 butt plug.
Innocent that I am, I was reading through that list and stumbled hard over “$1 deck of cards”. I can see how they might be useful for spanking card games, and if you really pushed me I might be able to dream up a kinky process involving precise shuffling near protruding nipples, but still somehow cards don’t strike me as kinky toys the way the other items in the list do. Laugh at my naivety if you must. Obviously I’m having a failure of imagination.
So anyway, I inquired in the comments, but Danor wouldn’t elaborate. She justifies this intellectual stinginess by explaining: “Kam hasn’t actually used the cards for awhile now, and I’ve learned my lesson about posting stories from the past that Kam might just have forgotten about by now.” Hmm. Doesn’t sound like spanking card games is the answer to this mystery.
So, fellow kinksters, I ask you: How does one use a deck of cards as a kinky toy? Ladies and gentlemen, and the rest of you lot, the comments are open!
Happychicklet has trouble saying the word “spanking”. This amuses me, because when Bethie says it to me on the phone, the word often comes out ten decibels quieter and about twice as fast as all the surrounding words. Back to Happychicklet’s explanation:
It is a fact that I can hardly bring myself to say the word ‘spanking’ out loud. It makes my lips feel a bit odd, a bit out of sync, like those old advertisements for Odour Eaters. This isn’t a recent affliction. I haven’t been able to say ‘spanking’ or ‘spanked’ or … this other phrase I’m not yet ready to deal with … without difficulty in as long as I can remember. This is obviously a bit of a hindrance to a submissive. It’s a bit like a bus driver not being able to say ‘fares please.’ Everyone would just rush onto the bus while he was trying to think of a less embarrassing way of asking for what he wanted.
…
I couldn’t say ‘spanking’ back then because I was frightened that I would give the game away. My face might turn a guilty colour, and then everyone would know that I was odd. I couldn’t — can’t — even use the word in another context, as in ‘brand spanking new.’
Im quite glad in a way. I’m glad that after all these years something still has the power to affect me that way. I got over the whole sex hurdle by just doing it. My first sexual encounter was memorable for months and months of sweaty anxiety and inaction followed by a burst of furious activity at the end, much like my O- levels and my only fight. But spanking — thinking about it, doing it, expecting it, hoping and dreading in equal measures — well, it’s still like that for me, and long may it go on.
Here’s another one of those Bad Tushy spanking galleries that actually shows a little fun being had. The story is the usual silliness:
Katie is failing her class, and goes to speak with her Professor. She asks the Professor if there is anything she can do to bring up her grade without wasting more of her time. Desperate for a better grade she agrees to the Professors’s Extra Credit Assignment of an Ass Spanking!
But seriously, folks, just look where she has her hand, and imagine where her fingers go every time his hand smacks into her bottom:
Does she look like a desperate student to you? Or more like a squirmy spanko girl with an itch that needs scratching? (Not that the two are incompatible, I suppose….)
The picture is from this gallery found over at Spank Slaves Spanking TGP. The gallery includes a cute video clip, too.
The many loves of Danor:
I love the cane. Its deceptive lightness and simplicity. The swooshing sound just before it lands. Those sharp burning lines of pain laid across a raw and stinging ass. Feeling myself so thoroughly striped.
She also loves the belt, the paddle, the hairbrush, and his hands. I think we get the idea. {snicker} Isn’t enthusiasm a thing of love and joy to behold?
Katy at Captive Heart shared a spanking fantasy the other day:
“Bryan, take her panties down.”
I felt Bryan’s hot breath on me as he peeled my panties down to around my knees. He pulled my leg closer to him, and I realized he was surreptitiously rubbing his hard cock against my calf. A whimper escaped me.
“Count the strokes, Miss Drake,” Teacher ordered. Then the first stroke of the thick wooden ruler fell on my left buttock.
“One, Sir,” I gasped.
“You are a very naughty girl, and you need to be punished,” Teacher said, then swung again.
Thanks, Katy!
Everything you ever wanted to know about tormenting your loved one with stinging nettles, but were afraid to ask:
Thanks to Urtication: Sex & Nettles for the link.
Now, hold still and STOP WIGGLING!
Well, I hope we do. At least, now you’ve got a way to leave them.
So, leave a comment already!
But fair warning: I do this site for fun. If you don’t like the spanking kink, don’t play with us. That means: don’t leave comments saying spankos are evil or sick or going to hell. Such comments will be jeered or deleted depending on my mood. Please keep your comments kink-friendly and accepting, or keep ’em to yourself.
I’m not a brat, but sometimes hanging around with them rubs off.
Oh Kam, yoohoo! Are you listening? Danor said to remind you. Three words:
She’ll be soooo happy I helped keep this on your mind.
Jack and Danevah are trying an interesting pleasure experiment:
When he touches my clit directly, lightly rubs the pad of a finger over that naked bundle of nerves, I have a certain kind of involuntary shudder that I do. He loves it. He decided that there was no reason I couldn’t have a similar pleasurable reaction while being spanked.
Today we started training my body a little bit. I had my legs spread and back arched while I was on all fours on the bed, as open and vulnerable a position as I could manage. Using the leather paddle I hate/love so much, he would swat me and immediately after, would touch my clit. Just a gentle little rub, enough to bring on the shudder. After a while, he tried spanking me a few times without the little shudder-rub, and lo and behold my body remembered and I moved the same way anyway.
I hope we’ll get updates about how it goes after days and days of reinforcement.
OK, I try not to overdo the rave reviews of the paysites that pay the Spanking Blog bandwidth bill, but the grown-up schoolgirl spanking naughtiness from the current update over at Whipped Ass is just too tasty to ignore:
Mmm, when do Katja and Kym Wilde find time to study?
See Also:
Here’s a cute little animated spanking .gif which looks (if I am not mistaken) to be composed of spanking art from Manara’s book “The Art of Spanking”.
Is there anyone here who doesn’t need a shirt that says “I Enjoy A Good Spanking”?
I thought not!
If you write about spanking, you might want to go read this call for submissions link that was sent in by an alert reader. Sounds like a neat book in the making.
A delightful new find in my referral logs: A submissive’s blog called Primal Scream and (via her links) that rarest of creatures, a blog in a male voice (her Majesty’s) with D/s things to say: Grumbles From A High D Personality.
I love hearing both sides. She says:
Majesty spanked me this morning with ‘The Mistake’. I’m still convinced that it was me that made ‘The Mistake’ in buying it. But He really really enjoys it, so it couldn’t have been too much of a bad choice, right?
He says:
Last night she gave me another of the presents; a kind of strap made of thick leather with a handle. Hanson calls it “The Mistake”. W was kind of wondering if she made “the mistake”. It is wicked. I tried it on her today. It delivers a lot of wallop with very little movement.
And note carefully, in his daily list of “pure D/s activities for the day” the entry “spanking w with new strap” appears like clockwork. I think he likes his present!
I’m delighted to add Lovesongs for Underdogs to the blogroll, now that it’s available without popups and proposed spyware downloads. Danor is a submissive with a mouth on her, one that makes me grin. Just by way of example, she writes about her latest caning:
He let me get a mirror to inspect my bottom; there were a few isolated red stripes, and a few dark purple welts, but mostly just one angry red area across my entire ass. Kam is nothing if not thorough.
He said that he thought if he’d kept on much longer at that intensity, he would have broken the skin, which he doesn’t want to do. Because beating your girlfriend until her ass cheeks resemble two giant eggplants is fine, and there’s nothing wrong with lifting up her clit hood so you can paddle the bare clit with a hairbrush, but breaking the skin is beyond the pale. Or something. ;-)
“Silly man, nobody but you wants to see those pictures.”
Riiight. After the poll, a hundred and sixty six votes later, only six people agree. A paltry four percent!
Sure, another quarter of you turn out to be here solely for the spanking porn. Patience, patience! All things in due time.
But still, that leaves nearly three-quarters of you who do want to see the pictures, which is about as I expected. Thank you all for helping me resolve this argument. As promised:
Beautiful! Vox populi, vox dei….
Men always ask about wife spanking.
Well, that’s what the magazine cover says anyway:
“Should wives be spanked?” I don’t think the answer is in doubt.
2009 update: I found scans of the magazine and made a transcription of the entire article. Big surprise: the author concludes that “a lot of wives would probably be happier if their husbands gave them an occasional spanking.” Ya think?
See Also:
Somebody dressed as Dr. Cyclops: “Absent a place to tie up and spank the crap out of cute girls, what’s the point of leaving the house?”
Well, OK, you’ll want some context for that. Try Violet Blue, who charges merrily about with sexy friends through the peripheries of the more interesting bits of the kinky sex scene in San Francisco while proclaiming and bemoaning her relative lack of participation:
So no, my threesome didn’t happen, not at the superhero party, nor the next evening when Hornboy and I went hot tubbing with wine and candles and Minx, whose idea it was, declined to call. The superhero party was perhaps the anticlimactic buzzkill of the whole setup — while the last party from this host was fantastic, the open to the public, no playspace party turned into a rager where few were in costume, and there was much “super puke” in the bathrooms. I was relieved to spend time with a couple that I adore, who both work for San Francisco Sex Information. While I was with the fabulously costumed Hornboy as Harvey Birdman, they won my personal prize for high-concept superhero scenario — he was the nefarious Dr. Cyclops, and she was a tough-girl heroine who had to break into his lab to steal a secret formula. Of course, she would get caught and have to be tortured for hours. Sadly, the party setup had their hours’ worth of role-play fun shelved for later, and their nearly 75-lb. bag of S/M gear and sex toys unceremoniously dumped in coat check. As Cyclops put it, “Absent a place to tie up and spank the crap out of cute girls, what’s the point of leaving the house?”
There. Context. Happy now?
