Spanking Blog: Adult Erotic Spanking At Its Best

More comic book fun, starring Lois Lane, who seems awful cheerful about the pain in her nether regions:

Just exactly what did the robot do to her? Sexoteric speculates that she got some robot anal sex, but I think we know better.

Apparently somewhere out there, there’s a rich flyfisherman (but I repeat myself) who lounges about in his hipwaders of the finest hand-harvested plantation gum rubber, fondling his fishing flies while swatting the real ones with a genuine $60 leather flyswatter from Orvis.

Maybe, but I don’t believe it — any more than I believe any of those expensive bespoke riding crops in those ritzy hunt shops in London ever touch the heaving flanks of a horse. Heaving flanks of a cute kept woman, is more like.

Here’s a comic book spanking administered (along with a good dose of lecture) by the 1930s comic book character The Phantom:

From alt. binaries. pictures. erotica. cartoons.

Magdelana from Myths and Metawhores posted a fun story (”Sodomites In Room 101“) about a spanking-and-anal-sex hotel room encounter. She suggests it’s fiction, but she accompanies it with one of the prettiest spanked-bottom pictures I’ve seen in a awhile:

My body reverts to a primal instinct and I struggle but you manhandle me to the chair and we collapse into a prime position. I am sprawled across your thighs, with my arms pinned behind my back.

Spreading your legs slightly, you perfect my position for your own pleasure. I whimper with the realisation that this is the first time you have seen me this exposed. Certainly we’ve exchanged many photographs and in that frozen in time sense you know every aspect of my body but that revelation was free from shame. This is not. Adjusting your hold, you clasp my small wrists in one hand. With the other you begin to strike me.

Hard spanks with no warm up. A fierce, ruthless volley of blows aimed low, striking me in the most sensitive of places. I cry and moan, writhing and twisting in futile attempts to escape. My skin is so hot it burns. Releasing my wrists, you pull me farther onto your knees and my hands fall to the floor to regain my balance. Taking advantage, you cup one cheek with your hand, pull it back and deliver a series of hard strikes to the tender skin around my anus. I howl at the indignity but you continue….

As is usually the case, the free spanking video clips from Cal-Star Spanking are short and more tantalizing than satisfying. But the girl in this gallery is really cute and is wearing nothing but her socks. And oh, she’s so sorry:

So, a while back Freya wrote:

He pulled a six foot bullwhip out of a package that arrived in the mail yesterday.

He turns and gives me an evil look and I’m incredulous. “Oh! No fucking way.”

Stalking to me, he circles. “Oh? You don’t get to say no.”

Eyebrows go up. “If you think I’m going to let you use a fucking bullwhip on me you’re out of your mind!”

He teases me for a few hours until he finally tells me he just wanted to fuck with me for a while and he had plans to tie me up with it.

“OH! Well, that’s okay then.” Mmmm, the thought of the leather binding my wrists is quite appealing.

In her comments, I said:

Heh, he’s a devious one. First he’ll get you all in love with the smell and the feel of the braided leather, and get you programmed with erotic associations. Before you know it, you’ll be *asking* him to use it on you “just once, to find out what it feels like.”

Turns out I was too cautious. Eight days later:

The bullwhip came out last night.

I’m on my knees. He’s on the couch, laying on his back and I’m bent over him, his cock sliding in and out of my mouth. His hand is in my hair, guiding my movements. He’s teasing me, fingers in my pussy and then up for a slap of my ass.

He pulls my head back after I’ve slid deep into submission. “Get the whip.”

Not that deep. “Nuh uh.” I shake my head.

He raises an eyebrow at me but says nothing else. That fucking eyebrow!

Okay, so I’m easy. I go and get it and bring it to him and he folds it while I get back to work on his cock and he whips my ass and thighs with it for a bit until I’m moaning and my skin is on fire….

Somebody at Hogtied is an artist with a cane:

“If you have no daughters, give them to your sons, one a penny, two a penny, hot crossed buns!”

So it seems Bonnie got put over the couch back for a good brisk paddling — and whatnot — the other day. It started with pants on, but didn’t end that way:

“Let’s see how we’re doing.” My lover’s tone was now almost comically clinical. Were I not so much in discomfort, I might have giggled. He unbuttoned my jeans and lowered them to the floor. My underwear quickly followed. Randy examined my toasted tail, tracing sore spots with his fingers.

“Very nice.” He said as he began to rub the smooth wooden paddle against my exposed skin. I gasped involuntarily. Soon, he was tapping me with a light but insistent cadence. I fought back the urge to escape. I bravely stayed in position.

Randy derives a special glee from surprising me. What he did next was a truly excellent surprise. Instead of continuing my paddling on the bare, he tossed the implement to the side. His dancing fingertips brought tingles to my lower back, my hips, my throbbing bottom, my thighs, and ultimately, my love canyon. His touch generated shivers of excitement and desire. He made me glad I stayed in place.

He next lowered his own trousers….

This is cute, from Calm Before The Storm:

I met a little girl today…

I had told her that my birthday is coming up soon…

She asked me, “How old are you going to be?”

Preparing myself for an old woman comment, I answered her. “29″

I was not prepared for what she said. Her eyes grew wide and she said, “That means you get 29 spanks.”

How did she know???

Here’s a pretty pair of girls in very practical spanking outfits, complete with glowing red bottoms:

From Lupus Spanking.

I’ll let Librarygirl speak for herself:

You can’t explain it. It happens suddenly. No warning. You get this feeling…this “I-need-a-hard-spanking-now” feeling. Just because.

I was thinking about it all evening.

And she got it, too….

I’ve added a funny new-ish blog (well, it’s almost a blog, all it’s lacking is outbound links of any sort) by SarAdora, who’s perhaps better known for her spanking fiction. She’s married to an admiral with a hard hand, which she clearly enjoys:

It’s only January 4th and I’m already exhausted from being so good. Cowboy says I have another 360+ days to behave. I had no idea they taught squids to count. I always thought “3″ was as high as he could go and get the numbers in the right order. When His Holiness and I were first married, he’d count to 3 when he thought I was doing something I shouldn’t be doing. The premise is the parent/child thing. Today’s kids know when mommy or daddy gets to 3, their world is going to come to an end… ergo, a spanking ensues. The first time he did that, I had no idea why he was counting. Nobody ever did that when I was growing up and if they had, we would have laughed. Where I lived, you hit me and I retaliated ten-fold no matter how much bigger you were. Not too many people hit me twice. So… the squid counts to 3 and I hint that 4 is next.

“Then 5, then 6. I think that’s as high as you should go till you practice a little,” I told him.

SWAT!

Truly, the man is sensitive about his counting skills.

Now, on the rare occasion he forgets that counting is something I ignore, and yells “ONE!” I roll my eyes and try not to mutter “Outstanding! Do I have a bid for two? This is a gem, folks. How about the gentleman in the back - did you want to bid again, sir?” Inevitably, I finish my little speech from the “over his shoulder” position and if I’m really feeling like a warrior princess, I still mutter when he upends me.

Silly girl, of course squids can count. They have to be able to count ammo; how else would they know when their magazines are full?

Woah, long time no update. No worries, what happened was, I got a touch of a winter bug and “cured” it by installing Civilization IV. No spanking updates for you, but I can assure you that the mighty Roman galleon fleet pillaged many Spanish fishing boats!

Here’s a fun vintage birthday spanking — doesn’t she smile pretty?

This blog entry is interesting because it features Girl On Lust wondering whether good sound spankings would keep her grumpiness and petulance in line:

I sometimes wonder what it would be like to have a man who would spank me when I’m being un-necessarily grumpy or petulant.

On the one hand, sometimes I get really stuck on a mood- even though I know it’s irrational or silly to feel that way, I just can’t get out of it, and I think the strong hand of a firm Master would certainly shake me out of that- being bent over his knee (interestingly I’ve never had a proper over the knee spanking) his hand shoving my shorts and panties down roughly, stroking over my skin, sliding between my cheeks to toy with my ass, teasing my pussy lightly before bringing his hand down hard on me. Perhaps I’d be so petulant that I wouldn’t want him to tease me- he’d just have to go straight to spanking me, reddening my ass until I cried and begged for him to stop.

On the other hand, I’ve never been really easy to shake from a mood. While that particular method has never really been tried, usually if people try and fail I get irritated with them, and frustrated with myself- it wouldn’t be good if my Master tried to spank me and it didn’t work. But I suppose that’s why he’s the Master and I’m the slave- because he does what he wants anyway, it’s not really spanking for my benefit.

If he wanted to spank me for being petulant, I wouldn’t have a choice. So it might work.

What do you think?

What do I think? I think the answer is almost certainly yes, if she can form the question.

But then, I would say that.

Whether or not such a spanking would cure the petulance of the moment, there’s also the matter of recidivism to consider. In my time I’ve shared living spaces with more than one sometimes-petulant woman. The ones I didn’t spank were petulant a lot; at one point you could have convinced me that grumpy petulance was a standard mode of female existence. The one I do spank for petulance is petulant only rarely, and she generally stops immediately when I ask “why are you being so fractious today?” (Which, of course, is code for “Were you hoping for a spanking just now?”)

Here’s a picture of Johanna from Spanking Online getting her bottom very well thrashed with a cane:

She’s sure feeling it! But I think she’s much cuter getting caned from this angle, with her best assets better exposed:

And the cuteness just won’t stop:

From this gallery.

I just spent a long morning housecleaning at Spank Directory, which is a primitive spanking linklist I (sometimes) maintain. I was stunned at how many respectable-seeming webmasters had quietly dropped my reciprocal links, but on the other hand, it gave me the freedom to winnow out some sites I never liked anyway.

Although the directory is nothing special, it does get more than a thousand hits a day, so if you’ve got a little spanking-themed website or blog, it’s probably worth your time to get listed. Just follow the instructions at Spank Directory, and then please be patient; all links are added manually and sometimes it takes me a few weeks (or months, sigh) to get around to doing updates.

Monmouth from Rentboy Diaries describes how he made a lady come while spanking her with a plastic flyswatter:

The strokes came widely spaced in an unhurried rhythm. Mia was getting into this, squirming around under the stinging slaps of the plastic fly swatter. After a little while I couldn’t resist sliding my hand in between her thighs from behind, burying my fingers in between the dark hairs of her pussy.

Her buttocks were red, pink, very warm.

I didn’t even need to touch her to know that she was dripping. She had such a strong scent that normally I could tell by just standing next to her fully clothed whether she was getting turned on or not. It was no use going out dancing with her - we always ended up leaving early because I couldn’t resist the smell of her sex that led me by the nose every time straight to her bed (and sometimes other places on the way there).

My fingers slid easily in between the lips of her pussy. Twisting around slowly, trying to avoid her usually very sensitive clit, suddenly she pushed back against my hand, grinding herself on my fingers - and came with a loud prolonged “aaaaahhhhhh!” that would have been unmistakable to anyone passing by the door of her flat.

Smiling to myself, I remember thinking “hey, this totally works!” as her wiggling slowly subsided.

Which, of course, it totally does.

There’s just a bit of power exchange (and no spanking, despite considerable potential for earning one) in this post that’s an early favorite for funniest blog post title of 2006: “The Night Of The Buckwheat Hulls In The Fur“.

In which Magdala learns the hard way not to question the spanking count:

Since Masters are never wrong and Master is the one who counted….according to his calculations and the number of swats I received….I think I am 87 years old. Fortunately, I look young for my age.

At one point I (quite foolishly) took it upon myself to point out that he had just given me 15 swats that he had already given me and counted. So he took them back. The exact same way he applied them. One after another, only I think the take back spanking was harder than the initial spanking.

And thus was all made right with the world.

Mistress Matisse reveals an intriguing standard of good behavior when enjoying holiday champagne:

“I was very good this year. I did not forcibly disrobe and spank my attorney….”

One of the bits of clandestine literature that made a strong impression on me in my lustful adolescence was the classic The Way Of A Man With A Maid. Here’s an excerpt from Part II (courtesy of A Taste Of The Birch):

At last I brought the whip down smartly across the top of her hips. It made a soft smacking sound but left no mark, although Marion sucked in her breath and jerked nervously, perhaps more from the torturing suspense than from the stroke itself. ‘That is one!’ I counted aloud.

She bent her head, closed her eyes, while I stared over her shoulder at the mirror, feasting my appetites to the utmost. You can have no idea how really mouthwatering Alice’s sister was, standing there stark naked except for her black stockings and the flouncy rosette garters, her legs slightly spread, her arms drawn up so high that her pectoral muscles were in bold relief, and the uptilting insolent pears of her breasts surged out in dazzling elegance as if in a contest of love goddesses!!

I dealt the second cut a little lower down , just over the top of her prominent and firm bottom ovals, and I enjoyed the sight of the lash clinging to those tender hemispheres and the tip flicking round towards the area of her tender groin. Marion gasped a little more loudly this time, nervously tried to shift from foot to foot, and dragged on her wrists. From the way her sides were trembling, for I could see her ribcage plainly outlined against the taut olive skin, I knew that she must be fatigued from the long duration of her atonement. As this would increase the overall stress on her nerves and psyche to bring me the most voluptuous gratification I hardened my heart and directed the third cut about an inch below the place where the second had landed.

Her hips gave an involuntary swerve to this side and that, her head tilted back a little and her eyes opened wide. Intently following her reflection, I perceived that her eyes were full of tears and that her nostrils were beginning to dilate rapidly….