Spanking Blog: Adult Erotic Spanking At Its Best

Here’s a vintage spanking photo from one of those 1970s spanking magazines; doesn’t she look sore?

From alt. binaries. pictures. erotica. spanking.

Sometimes Bethie is so funny I can’t stop laughing. Ever since Christmas, I’ve been giggling (and I’m a large man, so it’s creepy when I giggle, but I just can’t help myself) about her reaction to the nice aluminum-handled lexan cane Santa Claus left in her stocking.

I swear, it had to be Santa Claus. How do I know? Because Bethie and I take turns filling each other’s stocking. I went first, so she knows it wasn’t me; the handle of the cane would have been sticking out when I was done. Still, in the morning, there it was. I figure that Santa’s updating the “switches for bad girls” idea with modern space age materials, and the cane (mixed in with all the chocolate Bethie got) is a reminder that she was just a little bit naughty last year.

So anyway, her reaction:

The only flaw was some weird thing I found in my stocking. It looks like a miniature light saber. It has a pretty silver handle with a long, round clear rod coming out of it. I looked for a switch to see if it had a light in it, but it doesn’t. I’m not sure why he’d give me a defective light saber, but since everything else is so great, I decided to ignore it and just settled for swishing it around making a “chooom-chooom” sound for effect.

Now, mind you well, I’ve demonstrated the proper use of this cane several times now, but give her half a chance and she’s back to waving it around, making chooom-chooom noises, and looking puzzled. Sigh, I guess I’ll just have to keep demonstrating what it’s really for….

Tip for young ladies: If you find yourself stuck in a Lupus Pictures movie, where it turns out you reside with an angry admiral, you should try not to piss him off. Else it’s the paddle for you:

And then the oiled leather strap:

Ouchies!

See Also:

• Grumpy Spanking People
• School Room Paddlings
• Lupus Pictures (Rigid East) Spanking Website

We’ve all had these retail moments, but Poiesia describes one of them especially well:

A couple nights ago, I was at Whole Foods Market near me. The lovely philosophy of organic produce, sustainable agriculture, community citizenship aside, they have these natural wooden hairbrushes that are the “classic” timeless hairbrushes of yesteryear. As I’m meandering through the store, I happen to walk into the bodycare section — and like a beacon calling out to me, I espied these gorgeous wooden hairbrushes in both oval and rectangular shapes.

I swear, I got tunnel vision.

Had the store cameras closed in on me they’d seen my dilated, dazed eyeballs, and a musing smile playing about my can’t-stop-grinning face….a tiny spankified moment, while the earth stopped rotating on its axis. Heart stealthily thumping, I cast my eyes about furtively, while discreetly trying to judge the nice heft of the lovely piece. I casually pretended to examine the bristles while making slight swipes at the air, vacuously looking around me, noting the comfy handle, how it fit in my palm, holding it. Only $20 for this lovely find — who cares that it had some natural bristles and was all handmade? I couldn’t be bothered with trite details.

My glazed eyed and greedy brain clearly said “MUST. HAVE. THIS.”

My food list forgotten (I’ll forego food for spanking. Hell, I’ll forego sex for spanking…) and tossed to the winds, I had to have these hairbrushes. As I’m juggling and concentrating on the spanko-quality of my soon to be new toys, I look up to find my husband, Argos, standing a few feet away from me, openly grinning from ear to ear, watching me indulge in my spanko-gluttony. Blushing only slightly, I casually tossed the brushes into his basket amidst his guffaws. Feeling very perky and self-satisfied, I floated through the rest of the store. I can’t remember if we got all the stuff we were supposed to get — but who cares, really? In the nightly prowl of fooding, our hunting and gathering….I scored. :)

Apparently Claire was inspired to post about birching by Orchidea, writing thusly about a bundle of hazel twigs:

The Ace of Wands – the base energy of the wands – is of unequivocally phallic depiction in my deck, which probably reveals the root of my entrancement with an innocuous bundle of hazel twigs awaiting its destiny in a pail of water.

As I sit cross-legged on the bed, eyes covered and giggling helplessly to appease while he cuts menacing practice swishes through the air, I’m inclined to cry off. Up to this point, I don’t think I really believe he is actually going to use this fearful weapon, bound prettily with two wide lengths of black ribbon, on me. (Oh, be very careful what you wish for!) We are confined to the bedroom this time - I must be quiet! - and again atmosphere is crucial, so we have candles; dark red ones and strictly for illumination tonight, in a matching pair of iron candlesticks.

I’m now naked; upended over two pillows on the middle of the bed, wrists unbound, face buried in the duvet. The first strokes tease, tickle, caress, outline and enhance the sensitivity of my so sweetly exposed flesh. I wriggle my bottom. I want more and more of this tantalising, seductive stimulation. And I want it harder. The near-faintness, the vertigo-inducing arousal stems not from anticipation or the sensation itself; not from the heady but subtle accumulation of layered sting over warmth and warmth over sting on my blushing cheeks, but from my utter vulnerability and spiralling thoughts….

Have I mentioned that this sort of writing simplifies my life enormously? The more such accounts Bethie sees in connection with a new-to-her implement, the more her fear morphs into dreadful fascination, and the fewer objections I get when I finally pull the formerly-scary new toy out of hiding. Keep writing, ladies!

Here are three vintage lovelies waiting for their canings:

That’s right dears, and after the canings you just hold the position and wait right there….

From alt. binaries. pictures. erotica. vintage.

For folks who weren’t here when I posted this last year:

Here’s a fun Christmas morality play, in the form of a video capture sequence from Girls Boarding School. On a cold Christmas Eve, these two bored young ladies were sitting around in their sterile dormitory, playing with a plastic Santa doll:

Things warm up quickly when the contraband bottle of vodka comes out:

Next thing you know, the Santa hats come out:

And then the fun starts! One of the girls quickly winds up over the other’s knee for a “punishment”:

Uh, oh, now the fun is over. Busted! “I’m sorry sir, we weren’t planning to drink the vodka. Actually, we bought it as a gift for you?”

Nice try.

The lecture goes on for some time:

But, of course, the inevitable spanking follows.

Then it’s time to stand up and bend over for the caning. By this point, Drunken Elf Girl #2 is looking distinctly nervous:

She’s got that sinking feeling now:

She can’t bear to watch:

Finally they are both getting it:

And feeling it, looks like? Or are they just singing a joyous Christmas carol?

Any way you cut it, a very Merry Christmas!

(You can see the rest of the sequence here.)

See Also:

• Girls School Lesbians, Punished
• More Carpet Beater Spanking
• A School Girl Caning
• A Hard Ruler Spanking

Here’s the perfect bit of Christmas Eve spanking poetry for you. Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!

‘Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the town
Her pleas could be heard as her panties came down.

“Oh Santa, dear Santa, don’t spank me, I pray!
I’ll be ever so good, starting right from today!”

But Santa just chuckled, “I’ve heard that before
From many a bad girl with bottom so sore

As she wriggles and squirms ‘neath his hand’s hearty sting.
But a promise like that - why, it means not a thing.

What matters, dear One, as you’ll very soon see
Is that you should be spanked across Santa’s broad knee

Till your sassy bare bottom is burning bright red!”
And with that, the old fellow did just as he’d said,

And proceeded to spank her with all of his might
Till her yelps echoed loud in the cold frosty night,

And each swat, ringing out like a loud pistol shot,
Turned her soft, round bottom increasingly hot.

Then, when she’d been hand-spanked with many a smack,
The jolly old fellow reached into his sack

He produced a fine paddle of well-seasoned wood.
“Now, this is the thing that makes naughty girls good.”

He remarked with a grin. “And I think you’ll soon find
How effective it feels on a soft, tender behind!”

“Oh please, Santa! No more!” she cried in dismay,
But the paddle cracked down without further delay,

And despite all her protests and wailings and shrieks
It soon deepened the blush on her squirming, rear cheeks.

Poor Dear how she wriggled but all was vain,
For the paddle descended again and again

Till her bouncing bare bottom was sizzling and sore
And as red as the costume that Santa Claus wore.

But at last he relented allowing her to rise,
Hugged her warmly while wiping the tears from her eyes,

And murmuring, “There, it’s all over, my dear!”
Rubbing soothing cool cream on her blazing, hot rear.

Then he exclaimed, “Well Miss, your sweet bottom so curved
Has had the sound spanking it so richly deserved.

From now on, I’m sure, I don’t need to explain,
If you’re good then I shan’t have to spank you again.

But if you are naughty - remember, my dear,
That Santa keeps watch for the whole of the year!”

Then smiling, he shouldered his bulging big sack,
And sent her away with a crisp farewell smack.

So she hurried to bed with satisfaction you know,
With a song in her heart and her bottom aglow

And a sense that all manner of things were all right.
But she slept facing down on her tummy that night.

(Author unknown.)

For some reason the whole tradition of Japanese cartoon sex seems to include a lot of bondage, but not so much in the spanking/whipping side of things. It’s out there, but fairly rare. Here’s one of the more dramatic examples I’ve seen lately, from alt. binaries. pictures. erotica. anime:

View full sized: ( whipped anime girl )

See Also:

• Spanked And Tied Anime Girl
• Anime Maid Spanked
• Anime Girl Punishment
• Anime Caning
• Anime Whipping

In case you missed it, on Wednesday I contributed a Spanking Blog Roundup to Fleshbot, in the spirit of their regular Sex Blog Roundup feature. Eight of my favorite spanking blog posts from the last couple of weeks, assembled with links and descriptive snippets. It was fun to put together (though a lot of work) and I hope you’ll enjoy it.

Here from Claire is an amazingly poetic account of a birching. Gentlemen, get out your pocket knives and get cutting!

Ever curious for new sensation, I wondered if these twigs were pliant enough this late in the year to do a proper job. I needn’t have worried how to broach the subject with A., as I saw him eyeing the branches, then me, with a raised eyebrow, and realized we were already on the same page.

…

Two days later I was to feel the kiss of the birch for the first time. He had me lie over pillows on the bed, naked from the waist, naturally. Having no previous knowledge, I was unprepared for the paradox of sensory stimulation that followed. Birch rods (as I was to learn) are traditionally light and ineffective over clothing, unlike the cane, but their bite derives from repeated strokes over a large surface, which gradually aggravate already sensitive, scratched skin. (Though depending on the weight and length and type of wood, they are not always so light!) The heat—and pain—are at once superficial and cumulative, tantalizing, creeping up on you, just as the shrub creeps over and clings to the surface of the trellis. Thence the slowly-building, erotic effect. And the surprisingly deep, long-lasting burn.

The tangled birch is 18 canes in one, the unkempt half-sister of the Victorian carpet-beater. It is a sensual broom that sweeps lovingly over tender flesh with the claws of a kitten. If heavy enough, it delivers a thud that licks at the cheek of desire, exciting a hunger for more and harder, as the rattan cane never can, because that will sear in an instant. It is seduction in all its complexity: pleasure verging on pain, sweetness mingling with bitter after-taste, dulcamara.

See Also:

• And After The Birching...
• Pretty Girls And The Birch
• Sweet Ass, Birched In Public
• Why Nina Likes the Birch
• A Medieval Public Birching

OK, so I’ve used some odd implements in my time, and some heavy ones, too. But a cast iron frying pan? Now, that’s heavy!

Picture found here.

According to this account in the New Yorker, C.S. Lewis (author of the Narnia books among many other accomplishments) had a spanking interest; supposedly in letters to a friend, he “named the women he’d like to spank, and for a time signed his private letters ‘Philomastix’— ‘whip-lover.’”

Of course, in mainstream media like the New Yorker, this made him “a warped, morbid, stammering sexual pervert.” Wow, feel the hate?

What do you buy for the man or woman who has everything? You know it’s crunch time, right? There are only five more shopping days before Christmas; Amazon.com is starting to waffle about before-Christmas delivery; and none of your favorite online fetish toy stores have a prayer of filling your riding crop orders in time. The meatspace stores near you are full of ravening hordes of frenzied shoppers, and the remaining merchandise is starting to look like what’s left of a water buffalo after the pirhanna are done with it. What are you going to do?

Spanking Blog recommends: Buy your love a membership to one of the better spanking porn sites. All it takes is a credit card and two minutes, and you can write the password and userID on a nice hand-made certificate and put it in a stocking. Instant delivery, no hassle, no muss, no fuss. What’s not to like?

Let me be clear: I’ve always considered porn site memberships a distinct luxury. The internet is flooded with free porn, and so for folks on a budget, it’s a fair question to ask why one should pay when one can find plenty of free stuff. The answer boils down to quality and convenience. With a membership, you can get more, bigger, clearer pictures, longer movie clips, and a minimum of searching and hassle. When you think about it, it’s a perfect gift, because it’s firmly (er…) in the category of stuff the recipient will enjoy, but would never buy for themselves.

What’s more, giving the gift of porn makes a strong statement to your mate that you love them, that you feel secure in their affections, and that you want their erotic fancies to be tickled to the fullest. Of course, giving the gift of spanking porn (especially to a spanker) may also be hazardous to the smoothness of your unspoiled derriere. But what’s life without a little delicious risk?

Ah, but there’s still one small problem. Sure, buy them a porn site membership for Christmas. But a membership in which spanking site? Porn is very personal, and if your favorite gift recipient is sheepish about their enjoyment of spanking porn, you might not have a zeroed-in understanding of what sort of stuff they like best.

Fortunately, a trend that swept the mainstream porn world a few years ago is finally catching on in the spanking realm. The biggest producers of highly-respected spanking porn have started offering “Pass” type memberships, where for one rate (usually about twice what subscribing to a single site would cost) you can subscribe to four, five, or even six of their sites at a time. The result is a much wider selection (good when gift giving) for as little as about ten dollars per subscribed site. These “Pass” memberships are a real bargain, and I think they are absolutely perfect for gifts. The three best ones are:

Phew! Right there you’ve got, in a (very large) nutshell, a summary of about 75% of the worthwhile commercial spanking porn available on the Internet. I hope you find something your sweetie will enjoy for Christmas!

At one point early in my kinky sexual development, I spent a lot of time with non-consensual bondage and spanking fantasies. Light stuff for the most part, nothing too creepy; but the root reason for it was, I didn’t understand that there are women, many women, who enjoy being spanked and tied up. I could understand the attraction of spanking and tying up, but being spanked? Being tied up? What would be in it for her? (Oh, how young and clueless I was. But then, this was before the internet, the carrier and bringer of many important clues.)

This “what’s in it for her?” question crops up on kinky websites all the time, and I remain fascinated by the answers, like this one from Domestic Discipline Diary:

What’s in it for me?

The adrenaline rush that washes over me when he whispers those five little words…..”You’re getting a spanking tonight”.

The feeling of fear, excitement, and anticipation as the hour draws near.

The flood of moisture when he says it’s time.

The coolness of the air when I’m in position with my bottom bared.

The first sweet sting that’s better than all the foreplay in the world.

The fifth burning blow that’s so hard to distinguish between pleasure and pain.

The final agonizing blow that leaves me begging to be filled with his erectness.

The first sweet release when the world disappears, the second sweeter release that connects us making us one.

The contentment of knowing there’s no where else he’d rather be, than correcting, guiding, and satisfying me.

Out of context, this is a delightful piece of brattiness:

I purposely walked past the bed without making it before coming out here. I’m going to sit on my ass and smoke all His fucking dope and be the rottenest, worst little slave girl in the history of slave girls. I am not going to do anything to please Him today.

In context, not quite so delightful, since Pure_Blue was not having the greatest day. Ah, well.

I like the faces in this photoset from Cal-Star Spanking. California Star was always the “porniest” of the American spanking producers, and I think they did it deliberately. Look at the faces in this first picture; is there anybody in this production who isn’t stoned?

We start with a confused face: “Hey? What’s going on back there? And why am I over this pervert’s lap? Just how much pot did I smoke?”

The next stage is slightly-more-alert resignation. “Oh, yeah, I’m gonna get spanked. I need the money for weed. It will probably hurt a little, but whatever.”

Then, at last, the true gravity of the situation begins to sink in. “Ow OUCH, dammit, that HURTS! Who said this was the easiest two hundred bucks I’d ever earn? Bastard! I wonder if the photographer has any snacks?”

See Also:

• Spankings For Stoners
• Somebody Wants A Spanking
• Spanking The Bathing Beauties
• Spanked for Smoking

Here’s a stress relief spanking cure told in shorthand, but no less fun to read for all that:

Anyway, I’ve been spiraling for a bit now, and last night was really Nick’s first opportunity to deal with it. He spanked, I moved, my pants came down, he spanked, I moved again, he spanked longer and harder and with dire enough threats for even more that I stayed put. And I cried. I cried and cried for probably half an hour, gasping, wrenching sobs that shook my body and purged absolutely all the bad shit out. Then we made love, and he held me, and my world was right again.

Thank you, sugar.

From AngelBrat.

Although the camera angle is discreet in this picture, it’s much less discreet in some of the other photos from the same shoot. Yes folks, it’s that pornographic raris avis, a well-tied model being spanked during sex:

A bondage sex spanking! From Sex And Submission, of course, and no less than we’ve come to expect from them.

See Also:

• Innocent White Panties, Hot Bondage Sex
• Sex And Submisssion And Spanking
• Spanking And Sex...In The Same Movie?
• Spanking, Sex, and The Wandering Hand

I’ve been teasing Bethie for some months now by suggesting that we need a small single-tail whip. I’m in no hurry to actually get one — I’m sure to lash myself on the backstroke while learning the thing, and I’m not one of those “test the implements on myself first” boys — but it’s fun to have Bethie trying to distract me from my brainstorm and I really do think she’d learn to like it.

Patty’s latest tale is pretty much how I think it would go. Even though this is long, it’s actually an excerpt from a more detailed account:

We got back to the condo a little after 10AM, and we were both refreshed and feeling frisky.

Fred had a major surprise in store for me, but he waited until my wrists were cuffed and tied to the convenient latticework of the headboard in our room before showing it to me.

He bought a three foot whip!

“Oh Gawd! Honey!”

My whole body cringed with terror and surged with excitement at the same time.

Fred laughed at my horror and then set about to play with my spankee brain. He coiled the sinewy snake like leather toy just a few feet away from my face. I could smell the enticing freshly oiled new leather and appreciate the tight weave of the sturdy yet supple hide. It really was well made nice to look at. He left it there for me to contemplate while he started spanking my pillow perched bare backside with ouchie firm smacks of his hand.

I squirmed and tried to struggle against the warm up. “No way are you going to make me let you use that on me! No way! No way! No way!”

He just chuckled. “You sure about that brat? Who’s the boss of spanking in this house, you or me?”

“ME!”

Of course I was properly corrected for that bold and senseless comment.

…

I fixed on the whip, distracted and progressively aroused enough by the sensuality of the spanking I was getting, and the progressive build up of intensity produced by Fred’s hand, the tawse and then the bath brush that I actually began to question my fear. I did lose interest in the fascinating allure of the terrifying toy briefly when Fred pressed his arm and hand between me and the pillows and used his fingers to take me over the edge while he pummeled my needy bum with the bath brush.

When he stood up and lifted it into his hand, fondling its supple length, sniffing the alluring scent of fresh leather and oil with me my heart raced out of control.

“No honey!” came out of my mouth, and then a silent and desperate, ‘YES PLEASE! Don’t listen to my words!’ almost came out. The whole thing was a muddle rush. I had no idea which was audible and which was not.

“You’re curious though aren’t you brat?” Fred teased. “You want to know don’t you?”

“Nooooooo,” I lied and tried to burry my face in the sheets and blanket.

“Lying is going to get you some serious retribution now …”

“I’m not lying!” I lied. “I’m scared!” I told the truth. But the ‘Please try it on me, I’m desperate to know how it feels!’ never did come out.

“It’s the same weight as the school master strap. Remember how scared you were of it and now you like it?”

‘OK, that’s good. Tell me more, just like that.’ I shook my head no, and ground my face deeper into the sheets.

He whipped the mattress with a solid lash that didn’t just cut the air with a musical whirl, it tore away my façade of resistance.

’Oh FUCK!’ I lifted my head and looked up into his eyes. “Not like that though OK?”

He’d broken me, and we both knew he would do at least one like that, but first he would introduce me to it with as much care as was possible with a toy that has a mind of its own and a mastery curve that takes time and experience.

The first lash was not so bad at all, and neither were the next ten or twenty while Fred played with his aim and got the feel of his new toy. It stung a lot, some licks were harder than others to take, but mainly it was OK. It wrapped though, and a few times my right thigh or hip really took a hard thwap making me yelp and rear up in complaint.

Fred found a rhythm and his aim, and as he did, it began to really hurt. Thankfully his aim got better and the end mainly lashed the pillows. He’d discovered the range that exactly delivers the maximal searing burn of the impact of the last foot or so of leather while the agonizing ripping impact of the wrap around found the pillows. Amazingly, I easily slipped into head space where the rhythm of the searing burn started floating me off the bed.

Fred changed sides so my left cheek and the part of my brain connected to it was allowed to experience the same pain – agony – pleasure transformation that my right cheek had.

I reveled in transition as much as the initiation. It was amazing. Scary, flinchingly worrisome, and then eventually seductive. The cane has its searing deep tissue burning feel, the school master strap has it’s slightly more intense scald, but more superficial explosion of sensation. This whip was both in one. The wrap & tip scald with an intensity almost like, but 1,000 times more ouchie than the strap, while the thicker last foot or so sears and impacts with even more flying weight than the cane. White hot and ice cold is descriptive, but no where close. Mind numbing is tempting as a metaphoric level descriptor, but it’s just so wrong…. There’s nothing numbing about how this thing feels… The most punitively placed whip stroke cuts into you in a thin white hot line, and then a sudden explosive spread of sensation takes over your whole being with much more intensely than the narrow thick strap or the cane are able to illicit, which says a lot, since both are capable of delivering severe, intense and extreme experiences.

Fred placed the last two lashes carefully. Making each full force cuts, one from the right the other from the left, each placed so that the most intense wrap effect landed full on each cheek.

“OH! MY GAWD!”

I’d just had my first whipping with a whip! Some day, I will have to have a real one. Suspended, no pillows, all the wrap and whip….

Hmmm, she doesn’t seem too traumatized by the whole thing. Bethie, you want to help me pick out a whip?

I’m told this is a production still from the 1975 Jesse Franco women-in-prison production “Barbed Wire Dolls.” It sure looks slick:

See Also:

• Prison Cell Spankings
• The Elvis Whipping
• Women In Prison

So the other day Bethie wrote:

Dan started out my day with a few good spanks with the wooden kitchen spoon I just bought. We’ve been so busy lately that I haven’t been getting spanked as much and my bottom was surprisingly tender after just a few spanks. Either that or he was really swinging it!

It was definitely ouchie. I may have to buy a couple more of those spoons though. I can’t stand cooking with any utensil I get spanked with. There’s just something wrong about it but I can’t put it into words. It just feels wrong somehow! LOL

So last night the subject of the wooden spoon came up — I think I threatened to leave the bedroom and go get it, in response to some minor brattishness — and Bethie again bemoaned the fact that I had despoiled her cooking spoon and she’d never be able to use it now. I laughed and made light of the problem, thinking (as I have all along) that she was kidding. But it quickly became clear that she was serious. Incredulous, I explored her objections, which were (and I am not making this up):

1) She was concerned that during the course of a few high-velocity taps, the wooden spoon would have become contaminated with “butt oil” from her skin.

2) She was concerned that because wood is porous, the “butt oil” would have permeated the wood and will in future resist all cleansing action by detergents during the normal dishwashing process, remaining available to contaminate subsequent cooking projects.

3) Upon being pressed to define the health hazards of a few molecules of human skin oils that might survive into a future batch of food, she abandoned (grudgingly and without concessions) the “butt oil” objections and moved briskly on to Plan B. To wit, she claimed concern about bacteria, arguing that her butt area is likely rich in harmful bacteria due to its proximity to various organs of elimination.

4) When I pointed out that her standards of personal hygiene are very high, so high as to make broad-region butt bacteria an insignificant risk, she denied this. Rubbing my fingers all over her butt and then licking them, oddly enough, did not seem to reassure her. Indeed, she covered her face in her hands. Informing her that her butt oil is very tasty did not help. Really, it didn’t. For some unknown reason, she began to whimper at this point.

5) When I pointed out that we wash dishes in hot soapy water precisely because bacteria do not survive this treatment, she again raised the special porosity of wood as a risk factor. When I pointed out that wooden cooking spoons commonly languish in sinks full of dirty dishes, where bacterial counts are likely considerably higher than they are on her well-washed and lotion-reinforced butt, and yet she has no qualms about washing such spoons and re-using them in the cooking process, she was unmoved. Her unassailable counter-argument? Wait for it: “That’s different.”

What do you think, folks? Do you keep one set of kosher spoons at your house for spanking, and another for cooking? Or is it “Be damned to the butt oils, full speed ahead!” in your kitchen?

La, la, la-la-la lah, see the happy schoolgirls go smurfing down the country road:

Uh-0h, what’s this? Papa Smurf, Papa Smurf, those shameles hussies are piddling on the side of the road, in front of God and everybody! The nerve of those tarts!

This can only end in tears. Sure enough, here’s Papa Smurf his own self. You girls are in for it!

And oh, are they ever in for it. Spanking, caning, and tears galore, plus big vivid welts in the grandest Lupus Pictures tradition. (For pictures of the spankings, go here — I don’t want any succulant-but-mortified flesh distracting you from my little pastoral morality play. At least, not yet.)

It’s the after the spanking treatment that catches our eye this time. No, not oral sex you loony! Rather, our miscreants are taken out to the garden and made to pick some nice fresh stinging nettles:

You know where this is going. Our wayward schoolgirls are made to stuff their panties full of fiery nettles, which they do with great reluctance and much shifting from foot to foot:

And off they are sent, traipsing (properly chastened) back to school.

See Also:

• Almost Invisible Lace Panties
• Schoolgirl In Tears
• Panty Whipping
• A Harsh Nettles Spanking
• A Good Spanking...With Nettles

Here’s a woman who got what sounds like a pretty good foreplay switching:

He took my hair and spun me around, catching me with his kiss. He led me to the table, set up in the middle of the room.

“Bend over. Spread your legs. Oh, that’s good.” He moved my legs apart and walked around the table to his bag. I watched him slowly walk back, holding a long, thin switch. I smiled.

He bent down, getting a close view of my raised ass and chose a spot, holding the switch against the backs of my legs where ass and thigh meet.

patpatpatpatpatpatpatpatWHAP!

“Ohhhh!”

I closed my eyes and let the warmth spread.

“You like that, don’t you?”

“Yes…sir.”

He crossed my bottom with the switch as I squirmed, grabbing the sheet and moaning.

From Madeline In The Mirror; found via Bondage Blog.

Despite the lack of a specific spanking or BDSM theme in alt. binaries. pictures. erotica. cartoons, there’s a suprising amount of spanking art that goes by there. I love this gem from one of the 1960s men’s magazine, featuring Fidel Castro in his dungeon torturing blonde lovelies with a huge leather strap:

See Also:

• Spanking Hitler
• Leon Trotsky Whipping Two Nude Girls

So DirtyTalkinGirl writes:

For those odd times when M has a little, um, difficulty getting hard, he’s discovered a sure-fire, side-effect-free cure that doesn’t come in a pill-bottle.

He spanks me.

No kidding. In the time it takes him to deliver a dozen to fifteen stinging slaps to my arse, he goes from doughy to doughty, without my having to lift a finger or curl a tongue.

And I’m thinking: “Well, duh….”

Usually in my case, I’ve been hard and she’s already been spanked, but what with one thing and another, a fellow can sometimes flag by the time docking maneuvers commence. I like spanking her inner thighs (they’re handy) when that happens. She squeals and protests most prettily, and my inner cad usually pops right back up on deck.

No, she really doesn’t like being spanked there — well, not as much as she likes getting spanked on her bottom anyway.

I think that’s part of why it works so well.

The short riding crop also works very well for this purpose, if it happens to be handy.

When I saw this vintage erotic paperback book cover, I knew I had to share it with you:

But I must say, I don’t understand what the artist was thinking. How’s our vicious sorority girl gonna spank poor Stella’s bottom with that paddle when she’s swinging it the wrong way and standing in the wrong spot?

See Also:

• Modern Sorority Spanking
• Sorority Paddling
• Sorority Spankings
• Sweet Sorority Spanking