Spanking Blog: Adult Erotic Spanking At Its Best

Here’s a picture showing a punished blonde reclining in her bedroom in the only possible comfortable posture:

Can’t you just hear her sniffles?

Bethie has this area on the side of her right bottom-cheek that’s very colorful today. It’s about the size of my palm, but it’s got six or seven day-old short welts from the tip of my miniature cane. She says it’s a very tender spot.

Unfortunately for her, the spot is positioned right where I tend to catch her with a friendly swat whenever we pass in our small living space. So we’ve spent the day with her saying “Ow!” and me laughing. It’s not that I’m out to swat her tender spot, it just seems to happen that way.

Fortunately, she’s laughing along with me. I keep offering to make her symmetrical by putting an equivalent welty spot on her other cheek, but so far she hasn’t taken me up on it. She assures me with utter solemnity that she likes being lopsided.

OK, so funny-faced girl is gone. I had my fun with the bag on her head, but I still haven’t found a piece of replacement artwork for the right side of this blog template. So for now I’m going blank. (I was going to work with Invidia from The Collar Purple to get some custom art, but she and The Boss haven’t been blogging or answering email for the last month, so I guess that’s not on. I miss them!)

To reprise, here are the images in all their glory. First the photo I was working from:

And here’s the result after my amateur photoshop work. For some reason, lots of people absolutely hated this picture. They complained bitterly about the look on her face:

Which is why I did this:

That was funny at first, but now it’s gotten old.

Danor got caned. Again:

Then Kam rather abruptly got irritated with my inability to make decisions on what to buy, which spun me a little, and the upshot of it all was that I was a bit quiet and withdrawn on the drive home. Once home, Kam told me I was being a grump and needed a good caning. I didn’t think I was being a grump, but I usually need a good caning so I didn’t protest very much.

He had me clean up my room, which I hadn’t gotten around to cleaning up for his arrival (I’m not the neatest person, but I usually manage that, and will in the future, as scurrying around putting things away while he stood there grimly supervising and eyeing the cane was definitely eepish) and then set a pillow in the middle of the floor with a chair in front of it and facing it. He had me undress and kneel on the pillow and bend my upper body over the seat of the chair, and tied my hands together around the back of the chair. Then he got out the cane, tapped it against my bottom, and started in.

Have I mentioned I love being caned?

Yes, Danor, you did. {grin}

Please don’t stop, it’s always fun to hear about.

Goodness goodness, there’s been much fun reported over at Post Coitum Animal Triste lately. Irona is happy and well cared for:

You sent me on hands and knees to fetch the hairbrush. And the belt.

You bent me over the sofa back, balancing me on tiptoes, my buttocks and secret parts wide open to you. You had promised me a severe thrashing, but I could tell that your heart wasn’t in it. Your arousal was dominating you. All the grovelling, crawling and sheer mastery was making my head spin and my cunt drip. I craved that beating, and I loved it from start to finish. I winced, yelped and wriggled, but I savoured every blow, each perfect moment. You have never strapped me after a hairbrush spanking before, and the sensation of perfectly aimed, measured strokes of stiff leather striping my reddened, burning and tender butt cheeks (why does a spanked bottom feel so soft and supple?) was divine, the pain exquisite. After fondling my pussy and teasingly fucking me with the hairbrush handle, you rammed your cock into my soaking cunt and we both came – the urgency of our need, your hardness inside me, your flesh against mine, the fire built up by the spanking and accentuated by the stripes from my whipping all contributing to the sensation overload that sent me over the edge and left us both spent and glowing. Powerful. Grounded. Connected.

And that’s only one of her recent spankings. Like I said, well cared for.

A welcome and a big thanks to The Old Russian Woodshed, whose banner is sitting over there in the right bar for the excellent reason that the owner sent me a nice little sum of money. The site advertises some pretty severe punishment spanking videos from Russia, so if you like that sort of thing you’ll by all means want to visit.

So last night Bethie and I were watching a Law & Order: SVU episode in which three utterly vicious little teenaged blonde private school bitches (there’s no nicer way to put this) duct taped an ex-friend of theirs, threw her into the trunk of her own car, carved her up with manicure scissors, and then killed her. Then when the cops came around the girls were, shall we say, snotty to them.

About all I could think during this episode was that it would have been much better television if the entire process (from the girls’ obviously-lacking prior training in deportment onward through the interrogation process and clear through execution of sentence) had been conducted by vigorous application of the cane. In short, the girls didn’t have enough of this going on in their lives, not by a long shot:

Pictures courtesy of Girls Boarding School.

It should come as no surprise that motives in this game are sometimes complicated. Here’s an excerpt from a long entry Sarah wrote about wanting to be caned:

I want to be caned. So much so that it is invading my fantasies and holding my orgasms for ransom when I am on my own.

…

I know what a cane feels like when it hits. I don’t like it. That awful swish, that sharp sting, followed by a numbness that turns into a blinding burn across the ass. I do not like it at all. I have been known to burst into tears and try to escape before his arm was even raised and yet right now, I want it.

I sometimes wonder how I can crave these things that I despise so much. But I know that I want them just so I can cry. I want the comfort of crying. I want the comfort of big strong arms around me and a rough Welsh voice telling me to hush. I want to hurt so that He can take the pain away….

Sarah, thanks for clearing that up!

Katy’s master is feeling generous again. He captions a pretty picture thusly:

This is katy’s lovely butt after I spanked her. I don’t remember the exact occasion but, judging by the preponderance of marks on her right side, I’m guessing I was standing to her left.

Now we see why she loves him so!

Here’s an awesome hardcore vintage picture from Bondage Blog. These two guys have their lady tied up for a birching, and they clearly plan to enjoy themselves during and after:

Fun fun fun.

So this morning Bethie was in the bathroom after her shower with a big towel wrapped about half-way around herself while smearing moisturizing goo on her skin. The bathroom was full of steam and her skin was all soft and damp and hot. I had to step in for a hug and a feel.

So as I’m squeezing her, I notice one of her her bath brushes hanging on the wall. It’s very decorative…but also quite heavy with a round head and a long handle. Of course I had to test it.

“Whap!” “Whap!” One smack on each moist bottom cheek, and a satisfying “Ow! Ow!” from Bethie. Instantly an impressively large red round brush-shaped mark sprang up at each impact spot. That was so pretty I had to do two more. “Ow! Ow!”

The marks faded fast, but they were livid and oh-so-pretty for a few minutes. Even Bethie had to admit they were aesthetically pleasing. Of course, I don’t think she wanted to argue with me while the bath brush was in reach….

Here’s a website that’s all about the nettles spankings. The English is a little bit entertaining, but there’s plenty of good information and photographs:

One can choose to caress the buttocks of the punished simply by walking stinging nettles on the skin from top to bottom, that is by putting at first the extremity of stalks and by making them slide on buttocks up to their base… That does not generally make laugh the owner of behind so caressed!

Here’s a brief excerpt from a longer and very lubricious story from Almost Bare To The Masses. The story is called “Teacher’s Pet” and it features a very horny 18-year-old schoolgirl whose day goes pretty much like this from the time her alarm goes off:

She bent over his lap, feeling like a little girl. She lifted her skirt, revealing her lack of panties.

“No underwear…I’m not surprised, from a nasty little schoolgirl whore like you.” Without another word, he picked up the paddle and began to spank her round, firm bottom.

“Oh…oh…ow…oh, it hurts!” she cried. Ignoring her protests, the principal kept spanking her. Despite herself, the spanking was making her even more horny…she felt so naughty…her juices began to run down her thighs. The principal noticed, and began to spank her harder. He stopped for a moment.

“Is that enough, Allison? Are you ready to go back to class?” Just as she began to stand, he touched a finger to her slippery fuck hole, and her knees collapsed. “Or do you want some more?”

Amber at DDWife asked for a spanking on Valentines Day. She had a good reason to ask. She got what she asked for, too. And although it’s a cliche, Monty Python fans will want to repeat after me: “After the spanking….”

Now we know what those satyrs really got up to:

But why in the name of Bacchus His Own Drunken Self is a sex-crazed minion of the god of wine and revelry spanking this babe without pulling down her bloomers first?

A tale from across the pond in the Sunday Mirror:

WENDY WHIPLASH STOLE MY HUSBAND

A DOMINATRIX lapdancer weighing 19stone was sacked after getting kinky with her boss’s husband.

Joanne Leah, 32, who spanked men for a living under the stage name Wendy Whiplash, was part of the Pink Pussycats lapdancing troupe. She had a five-month affair with Ricky Hughes – the husband of the group’s manager Deborah Flanagan.

…

“Joanne would entertain the crowds during the breaks by getting blokes on the stage, spraying shaving foam on their bum and whipping them.

“Then blokes could go up to a private room with her for a private dance and spanking session.

Shaving foam? Why not whipped cream? Bah, apparently dominatrices don’t go in for visual puns.

You would think that adult webmasters would have better things to do than sit around spanking their models, wouldn’t you?

No, wait a minute. Why would you think that?

What a horrifying punishment: this teen girl pulled a deeply foolish stunt to impress her boyfriend, and wound up getting strapped while he watched. At least he was duly impressed:

Wack! The strap smacked my daughter’s pert bottom soundly, and she yelped and jumped convincingly, but I seriously doubt she felt much through her thick jeans. “O-One,” she breathed, and I gave her another. By the time I’d gotten to five her voice had a slightly different tone to it, a little protest, perhaps, and I knew I was finally getting through her jeans. By eight she was crying, and she let out a cry at nine. After ten she began to sob, most likely with relief, and I turned to Tom.

“Okay, Tom, you may go home.” He nodded and started to leave. “Don’t forget to ask your pa for that whuppin’!” I called after him and I saw Jenna wince. I approached her and smiled.

“That was a good performance, dear. You really make it seem like it hurt.”

“B-B-But it *did* hurt, Daddy.” she moaned.

“Psshaw!” I spat. “We haven’t even started yet. I doubt you could feel a branding iron through those thick jeans of yours, let alone my feeble strap. Now drop your pants like a good girl and bare that bottom for a proper lickin’!”

Crying, the girl did as she was told, and indeed I saw her bottom was barely red. There were one or two red marks, but most of her butt was milky-white skin just waiting for my strap.

“I suppose you understand why we are doing this?”

“Yes, Daddy. I rode the tractor without permission.”

“Exactly. And for a foolish reason, at that. Just to impress a boy! That’s why I whipped you in front of him, Jenna. You think he’s impressed with you now?”

She began to really cry again when I said that and I smiled to myself. Actually, Tom was *very* impressed with her, if I wasn’t mistaken about that bulge in his pants. Nothing turns a guy on like the thought of a beautiful, innocent girl behaving naughtily and getting her bottom spanked for it.

From “The Tractor” by the Flogmaster.

If you’ve been around the spanko community any time at all, you’ll know there are a lot of girls who want a spanking but don’t know how to ask for one. Well, here’s one good way:

It took some time to get up the nerve, but I finally asked my husband to spank me. He is always willing to try new stuff so he tried it. At first it was okay, but not what I imagined. I think he was more afraid of hurting me than anything else. I assured him I would let him know if I was being hurt.

Over time the spanking kept showing up, but never like I had imagined it. That is, until the past few months. He now realizes that I really do enjoy to be spanked hard, and that if he gives me this pleasure, then he is in for a treat.

A few nights ago he wanted oral sex. I was okay with this but I wanted a spanking. I would suck for a few seconds then stop. Finally he asked what I wanted, and I told him a spanking. He did spank me! In return he said he got the most excellent blow job he had ever had! I am not one to swallow and had only done it once before but he got me so excited with the spanking that I just could not stop! Since that night he has spanked me several more times and I believe he has enjoyed it as well…if you get my meaning!

We men are reasonably simple creatures.

If I had to use a crayon, this is the crayon I would use:

Fortunately, there are much better tools.

Dan Savage, a kink-positive gay guy who writes the justly notorious “Savage Love” sex advice column, got the standard “How can I get my husband to spank me?” question:

I look at spanking pages on the Internet; it’s becoming a bit of an obsession. I asked my husband to spank me and he has, a couple of times. I’m afraid that if I tell him how much I like it, he’ll think I’m weird or freaky, but I’m also afraid of not getting the spankings I crave. How do I tell him? I asked him what his fantasies are, but he says he hasn’t got any. Is this possible? —Please Answer This

It’s entirely possible that your husband has no fantasies, PAT. The sexually frustrated, kinky person in a straight relationship is not always the husband or the boyfriend. Sometimes it’s the girlfriend or the wife. So you want spankings but you don’t want your husband to think you’re weird or freaky. Sorry, PAT, but that’s impossible. Until you take responsibility for your fetish—until you let your husband know just how weird and freaky you are—you’re never going to get the spankings you crave. So how do you tell him? Like this: “Remember those few times you spanked me? It was great. I loved it. It turned me on so much. I love being spanked. I want you to spank me on a semi-regular basis. And whenever you bend me over your knee and call me a bad girl and tan my ass good, I promise to fuck your freaking brains out. Is it a deal?”

I’d classify that as a brusque version of the standard answer: “Just ask him, and make sure he understands it’s gonna be well worth his while!”

However, I refuse to believe than any man has no fantasies. “I don’t have any fantasies” is code for “I’m afraid to tell you because you’ll think I’m sick and weird and you’ll never want to have sex with me again.”

Here’s an amusingly large wooden spoon, being put to its highest and best use:

Guaranteed to stir up a heartfelt desire to please!

Via Usenet.

…so use a cane, man!

Well, apparently that’s Master Marcus G’s plan. He writes:

She was on my sofa face down, watching TV, did not even know I was there until I slapped that nice arse, short skirt, NO stockings…. Her look was shock, so she did not know her first comment was MASTER !!!!!!!! She tried to get up, I was not having that, I quite liked her in that position, available and that arse….

And she had been warned she was to get the cane and being a clever Master I had one in the car…. Talk about surprise for a naughty slave. I was OK it did not hurt me one little bit, unlike that hand spanking, that’s twice now I have hurt me spanking her, and she laughs….

Gentlemen, be safe out there!

I had an entertaining conversation with Bethie last night about whether I spank her hard enough. It’s like this, see. She’s a very very good girl during her spankings; she doesn’t reach back with her hands, she doesn’t wiggle around or struggle much, or anything like that. So I like to tease her that I’m obviously not spanking hard enough, because she doesn’t wiggle.

This gets her jumping up and down in protest (which is worth the price of admission right there, let me tell you). Apparently she knew a guy once who was quite demanding about passive-and-compliant behavior during her spankings, so she has been “well trained” as she puts it. I assured her that I was talking about involuntary wiggling; and shared my theory that if I was spanking her right there should be some motion that was beyond her control.

Needless to say, she’s not at all impressed by my theory….

Bandwidth costs being what they are, this might be a good time to point out that I’ve got room in the right bar for several square buttons or vertical banner adds. The space isn’t cheap, but last month the site got more than a quarter of a million page views. A very healthy proportion of which came from search engine traffic. Send me an email if you are interested.

And now to cleanse the visual palette, and to deliver on the earlier tease, this picture of six mini-clothespins nibbling politely at a lovely and oh-so-sensitive nipple:

The fun thing about playing with this particular set of nipples is that when you tease them (by, say, spanking them ever-so-lightly with the cute little six inch leather slapper) their owner frets and complains, just as one might expect. And yet the expression on her face is a huge smile, and the involuntary sounds escaping her mouth sound for all the world like laughter. Fun, I say.

Here’s a cute little flash game. Whip the girl on her tender bits (without getting too repetitive) to get her off. Happy clicking!

Warning: Apparently what I took (with my poor color vision) to be badly drawn welts is actually cartoon blood, making this little game seem much less cute than I thought it was. Sorry!

Update: The first link died, but you can find the game here if you don’t mind a popup or two.

Michelle talks about her morning spanking:

This morning, before work, I was running around the house searching for my shoe when Mike reminded me that it was time for my morning spanking. We do it each morning, more often than not, and it’s gotten to be, I guess, sort of a routine. When we started we said it would be 10 swats. We very rarely stop there though, and I will ask for more if he does for some reason stop at 10.

It’s usually done in the bedroom, before we even get out of bed, but this morning we’d woken late and were preoccupied. I bent over in the living room, over the arm of the couch. He swatted me once, with his hand. Twice. I started feeling the familiar tingly warmth, the centering of my thoughts. Then: oh holy God! Suddenly I was smacked very hard with SOMETHING that was NOT his hand. I jumped up and yelled “What the hell was that?!” I turned to look at him and he was standing there, smirking, with my hairbrush in his hand. “Bend back over, sweetie”, he said. “NO WAY!” I hollered, and ran into the bathroom, locking the door behind me. Once I was safe in there, I did a little dance where I held onto my bum and kind of spun in circles, feeling the pain. What in the world was he thinking??? Mike was on the other side of the door, laughing and entreating me to come out: “Get out here, woman!” “NO! YOU GO AWAY!” “Fine then.” I heard him walk away, and when I emerged he was sitting, sulking, on the sofa (yep, alliteration. Can’t beat it). Okay, he wasn’t sulking, he was getting ready for work. I’m trying to make him look bad here.

I felt badly. I mean, I’ve taken the cane, I’ve taken the belt and the flogger. What was going on with this? Why was it so hard to take a spanking with a hairbrush? I kissed him, apologized, and bent back over, promising I wouldn’t get up until we were finished. I even told him that I would take at least 30 swats with it, even though it hurt me.

He gave me ten, and sent me to work (he’d found my shoe while I was in the washroom), promising that I’d get the rest when I got home.

Usually, by the time I’ve finished my commute into work, the morning spanking is nothing but a pleasant memory. Today I had tangible proof of my spanking for most of the morning, in the form of a very warm, red bum and a couple of little raised welts. I tell you, the meeting I had to sit through was interminable, and only by imagining sitting on nice, cool icebergs did I make it through without jumping up and sitting in the fridge.

And when she got home, they broke a couch….

Belle De Jour got some fancy new sofa cushion covers. Plus a bonus:

The new covers were brought up just after lunch along with detailed instructions on how to put them on and a tool to aid in application.

This tool, it must be said, looks exactly like a paddle.

A very class paddle indeed. Of the same glowing hardwood as the frame of the sofa itself, with a smooth rounded handle mimicking the turned legs of the furniture. A tapering, broad, flat side, apparently for stuffing the cushions in their new skins.

But it doesn’t look anything like an upholstery aid to me. It is, quite frankly, a well-made and extremely horny paddle. It has a leather thong threaded through the handle, for goodness’ sake. And it matches the furniture.

I looked at the paddle, then at the deliveryman. “Do you want this returned when I’m done?”

“What? No, just keep it or chuck it away. We don’t need it back.”

“Thank you.” A more welcome and unexpected gift I haven’t had in ages. It’s as if Valentine’s Day has come early.

I forgot to mention. A little while ago Vikki wrote: “I’ve finally received the spanking that was so long overdue.”

Couldn’t happen to a more deserving girl!

=====

Update, many years later. Since her blog is now gone, here’s the whole delightful post, rescued via the Internet Archives:

I’m a naughty, naughty girl.

But I’ve finally received the spanking that was so long overdue. It hasn’t whipped me into obedience, quite yet – but I will say that oh, how I have missed the feel of a big, strong hand connecting with my tender bottom.

The boy knows how to spank. Damn. Shudder.

Perhaps, with due diligence and earnest application of discipline, I will in time become more obedient.

Or not. ;)

Here’s a publicity still of W.C. Fields spanking Gracie Allen with his cane. I don’t know what movie this is from, but it looks entertaining!

Update: Vanilla Spanking resolves a slow dispute in my comments: this is from International House. In a larger version of the photo, you can even see the hand-written label:

So Amber from DDWife got herself spanked yesterday. Twice. For running herself down – and I’m here to tell you, that’s a righteous beef her husband has about that. Nobody ever felt better for repeating a litany of their own perceived faults. And it’s not fun to hear, either. Best nipped (sharply!) in the bud, as it were.

The other amusing part of her tale? Her pang at realizing “that I hadn’t even given Dan his annual Super Bowl Blowjob. My yearly ‘Up Yours’ to all the wives I’ve known who can be so gawd-awful about their men watching the game.”

I’m no sports fan, but that’s stylish!