Spanking Blog: Adult Erotic Spanking At Its Best

There have been rumblings from the Spanking Blog audience of late, complaining of perhaps too many “schoolgirl” outfits appearing here. I am sympathetic; unless it’s your precise kink, fully grown women in knee socks can get to seeming silly after awhile. Still, I could not resist this little sequence of spanking pictures from Spanked Cutie. First we find our penitent “student” being caned over her plaid skirt:

Then the skirt’s flipped up to show the vivid rosy glow she’s earned:

And now we see her stripping for further punishment, while shedding big crocodile tears in hopes of ameliorating what’s coming:

Say it together with me: “Awwww……”

More pictures from this spanking series are here.

I’ve written before about the mixture of horror and hilarity that goes through my head when I find kinky people excoriating other kinky people for crossing the line and indulging in the wrong kind of kink. Imagine, then, my amusement in discovering this post by Adele Haze:

There’s a mindset which seems to dictate that you consider everybody who had an edgier kink than you a total pervert, whereas you and your friends are simply in touch with your sexuality.

…

So, a person into spanking but not knife play will freak out about knife play. A person into knife play but not latex will point his finger at the latex people. Adult babies get the stick from just about everybody, while folks who are into branding and real heavy physical stuff are reduced to scared blubbering heaps by a hint of simple domestic discipline. Race play? Don’t even start. And so it goes, around and around and around.

What gets to me is that you never know what remark will make somebody shudder in disgust at you. Narrow minds begin to narrow in the most unexpected spots.

It can get totally stupid between people who are all into spanking. Same kink, right? That’s what you’d have thought. And then the Spanking Is Sexual and Spanking Isn’t Sexual camps smash together and begin arguing their point, while the people for whom spanking can be both things depending on the circumstances sit in the middle with their heads spinning. And how about the Role-Play Is Fun and the Dressing-Up Is For Idiots camps? After that you get the Spanking Is Serious and the Spanking Should Be Fun people pitching fits, declaring each other wannabes, pretenders, abusive bastards and all that stuff.

If nothing else, she’s reminding me of how little I miss the spanking discussion boards, which I used to frequent before I got too busy working on this blog and keeping Bethie in line. (Of course, Bethie’s board is different, because she mostly moderates the kinky prudes into oblivion, and she keeps the hissing catfights to a dull roar.)

I have to share with you this very-well-presented bottom covered in light caning welts. Isn’t it the prettiest thing?

From this free gallery courtesy of Red Ass Teens.

So Swan came home from school one day and got a paddling. Her students would have been so scandalized to see their teacher upended with her dress up:

I was barely through the door, still laden with all the bags and junk that we teachers tote around with us, when He had me by the hand and was dragging me into the house. I did manage to get my lunch bag dropped off in the kitchen, and wiggle out of my coat before He dragged me off to the bedroom.

In the blink of an eye, He’d tipped me over the edge of the bed and had whacked me a couple of cracks with the Hanson paddle that He obviously had placed close at the ready. Yelping, I squirmed out of the way, completely unprepared for the suddeness of it all. Without a moments hesitation, He grabbed my wrist cuffs and a strap for around my knees and proceeded to restrain me.

That calmed me some and centered me into the place of a more quiet acceptance of what was coming. Stacking up some pillows, and now pulling up my “school marm” dress, He dumped me back onto the edge of the bed. This time He did give me the gift of a warmup, spanking me thoroughly with His hand until I could feel the heat rising through my tights (He does love it when He catches me wearing tights). Then it was back to the paddle, and this time I was caught. He’d been promising for weeks that there would again come a time when He’d spank and not worry about whether I liked it or not. I suspect this was the commencement of that reassertion of His place.

I begged. I yelped and cried and hollared and squirmed. He went right on. It was, with the exception of the warmup, entirely His pleasure that was being served.

Here’s another vote in favor of the cane, this time from Lisa. It seems she quite enjoyed her first caning:

I mentioned earlier I bought some new toys for Edward’s toy box. We had tried out all but the cane the first night they came in and well last night we tried out the cane.

…

He fondles my pussy a little more and then reaches for the toy box once again. I can’t see the box because it is behind me so I haven’t a clue what he is about to grab and then he strikes me. It is like fire line across my bottom. I wasn’t sure at first but after the third stripe of fire across my bottom I knew he was using our new cane. It was wonderful I must admit, the feeling was electric, first I heard the smack and then I felt the fire run across my bottom. He paddled me good with it and I squirmed and yelped and when I was about to stop him cause I couldn’t take any more, he stops and puts cold lotion on my bottom to help take the sting out.

Here’s a really excellent nightclub spanking picture found on Flickr:

(Here’s another restored Pain Toy post. I chose this one for today as a bit more gentle pushback against the folks who send hatemail whenever I post anything but the softest spanking material. Whippings will continue until morale improves!)

I get complaints from time to time that the stuff I post and link to here at Spanking Blog is too harsh, and scary to the people at the mild end of the spanko spectrum. I’m genuinely sorry about that, but a little surprised also — from where I sit, Spanking Blog is pretty mild. The folks like the ones over at Pain Toy are the ones who aren’t messing around:

They do things with single tail whips, and canes, and sore bottoms, and exposed breasts, that make my eyebrows go all the way up (not to mention making Bethie shriek and hide her eyes until I make the nasty mean pictures go away). For all that, their photography is some of the best I have seen, and their models are lovely, willing, and often even cheerful.

I know some of you wish I would never talk about whipping or caning or anything “too sadistic” (I’m quoting from a deleted comment), but the spanking game is all over the map when it comes to desired levels of intensity. Here, for instance, we have Naughtyone begging for the cane, and loving it when she gets it:

He eased up on the whipping and rubbed his hand over my burning hot ass and across my throbbing pussy. I pressed my cunt against his hand, silently begging for it. He pulled his hand away before I could have my pleasure.

“Your ass is bright red,” he smiled. “Ready for the cane?”

“But, but…” The innocent girl routine once again.

“You deserve to be punished, slut. You dripped cunt juice on the sheets.”

I wasn’t surprised. If I wasn’t wet and horny enough before, I certainly was now. He picked up the cane and ran the tip gently across my clit and pussy lips. I moaned loudly, wanting, needing.

“Tell me you want it, slut. Tell me you want it hard,” he demanded.

“P…Pl…Please cane me,” I managed to whimper.

“Good girl,” he smiled again. He started gently with the cane, as he usually does. It can easily cut and leave evil welts if you aren’t careful. His light taps just made me want more. My ass was already warm from the crop, and I was ready for a good caning.

“Harder, please?” I squeaked. He quickly obliged, the strokes of the cane falling much harder upon my ass. He raised burning welts on my ass, each one met with screams of pleasure and pain. He drove me to the edge and pushed me into a deep endorphin rush of subspace. I don’t know exactly how long the caning lasted, but from that point, I loved every moment of it.

You might enjoy this nifty video clip I found over at Sex And Submission, featuring a riding crop, an iron cage, and the lovely Sandra Romain:

View the clip here.

If you know about the Violet Wand electrical toy (of which you’ll hear more here, since Bethie and I recently got one we haven’t had time to play with yet) you’ll be amused by its use as a spanking toy, as described in the comments to this post at The Swan’s Heart:

Swan found this glorious whisk…yep a kitchen whisk. It is not the normal one with the loops. This one is as if someone cut the loops open and put little metal balls on the end of each stainless steel rod… Sooooo….you put the violet wand in one hand, grounding yourself and them “bo-ing!” the whisk against your partner’s bared skin….oooooohhhhhh. Wanna hear them giggle? Turn the juice low….Wanna hear them wail? Crank ‘er up and watch the show!

From Bondage Blog, here’s a vintage postcard showing a girl with chained wrists waiting for her birching:

Very classic.

(This post is an updated reprise of one from deep in the archives, that I had to pull when the link went temporarily dead. I’ll be restoring several more lost Pain Toy posts over the next few weeks.)

The realistic pained expression below is typical of the beautiful photography by Alebeard at Pain Toy. Pain Toy is an interesting little pay site that’s clearly a labor of love, and authentic as hell. It features lots of caning, whipping and erotic punishment, most of which is pretty severe by Spanking Blog standards. Worth a visit (they have several free sample galleries) if welts don’t scare you.

Bunny she may be, but subbie-bunny doesn’t like it fluffy:

i don’t like soft things…

well, i like marshmallows, and feather pillows, and sponge cake. but when it comes to all things sexual, softness, slow and easy, i don’t really like it that much.

spankings, when done softly, are pointless to me. smacks that are gone before i turn around aren’t worth the effort.
…
i want clear and precise.. i want slaps that sing in the air and sex that shakes the bed. i want lines that last and orders that stick. i don’t want maybes, and i don’t want soft.
…
i want to hear myself gasp over and over, and see the lines, the speckles, the hard edges of welts afterward. i want to feel the ache between my legs when i wake up the next morning.

The last time I posted spanking pictures from VIP Spanking Pass, the topic was spankee tears. Well, as any man can tell you, when comes to a woman’s tears, they come in flavors and varieties. And one variety is very distinct: the “look at me, I want your attention and sympathy and cuddling” type of tears.

Spanko girls do this with more than tears. For some of them, the whole purpose of the spanking is to give them an iron-clad excuse to be dramatic, over-act, and get lots of positive attention afterwards. (Not that there’s anything wrong with that, unless you’re one of those overserious-dom types who puts on the black leather outfit so he doesn’t ever have to express another warm human emotion again. But I digress.) Anyway, today’s free sample gallery from VIP Spanking Pass features the most spectacular example of the attention-seeking spankee I’ve seen in quite awhile. Luckily, she’s also very cute and bends well over a couch:

Note the way she starts yelling before her pants have even started to come down:

And now the tears, blended nicely with the artful sideways “are you feeling any sympathy yet?” glance of assessment:

And finally, my favorite after-the-spanking pose. Her head’s buried in the corner of the couch in a planned sulk, but her well-spanked bottom is positively thrust toward the viewer , inviting a little physical sympathy:

This little minx knows exactly what she wants, and how to get it, too.

Not, I say again, that there’s anything wrong with that.

Found over at A Taste Of The Birch, this excerpt from a spanking novel called Two Flappers In Paris. Nice use of the old “Don’t worry, this won’t hurt a bit!” line:

As soon as we had entered the whipping room, the Madame left us to the tender care of Rose, who alone had accompanied us. My little friend invited us to be seated and then said ‘I must tell you, young ladies and monsieur, that it is a condition of the house that no visitor may enter the whipping room without receiving a whipping. It is a tribute which must be paid. Now with which of you shall I begin?’

Evelyn and Nora, crimson with embarrassment, declared that they would be much too ashamed to be whipped in front of a man.

At this Rose laughed heartily.

‘Really?’ said she ‘Perhaps you are afraid that Uncle Jack would be shocked at the sight of your charms! If that is so, you may banish all fear. Monsieur is no novice, I assure you! He has seen many a whipped bottom. And I don’t mind admitting that he has seen mine dancing under the rod not so very long ago!’

‘But’ cried Evelyn ‘it must hurt terribly!’ Rose’s laughter increased.

‘Not at all, not at all!’ said she. ‘Please remember that we are here for our pleasure and not for our pain! Don’t be alarmed , young ladies, and make up your minds to go through with it. One thing is certain, and that is you will not leave this room without having had a whipping!

This illustration of a breathtakingly hard tawse spanking caught my eye because of the sheer energy of it. Plus, I never can resist that wide-eyed “Omigod I can’t believe how bad this hurts!” look of disbelief, in that moment when astonishment has warred with pain for control of the facial expression, and has won:

From alt. binaries. pictures. erotica. bondage.

In her most recent weekly column, Mistress Matisse fielded a question about what to do when your hand gets sore before the spanked bottom in question does:

Good lord, darlin’, do you not know about paddles? I feel your pain here—I’ve played with people whose behinds were so tough that the old saying, “This is going to hurt me more than it does you” was literally true. My hand would be red and sore afterward, and they’d be saying, “You know, you could spank me longer and harder next time.” Ow.

And yes, some of these people insisted that they didn’t like paddles or other implements, just bare-hand spanking. Perhaps that’s what you’re hearing as well. To these people I say: “I will spank you bare-handed until it becomes uncomfortable for me, and then if you want more—guess what, we’re using a paddle.”

Too right!

Yes, yes, I know that supervising her treadmill time while holding a cane can be fun, but it’s not as creative as it might be. MonMouth has been riffing lately on a sex-related exercise program, and for a warmup exercise he offers The Crouching Kitten:

1. The “kitten” kneels down on the floor (a considerate trainer would provide some soft underlay) and grabs her ankles. It is imperative that this position be maintained throughout. If not, then restraints and/or punishments will have to be used.

2. After ensuring that the trainee is in the correct position, she should be securely blindfolded.

3. Taking his time, the trainer should walk around her a few times to raise anticipation. At this point, begging on the part of the trainee is allowed.

4. At a moment of his choosing, the trainer takes a position in front of the crouching kitten, takes out his cock, and orders her to find the tip with her tongue. As she seeks it, blindfolded, the trainer should make the trainee work for her mouthful and not allow her easy access to her reward.

5. Once found, the kitten should be allowed to suck to her heart’s content. No hands are allowed, though. Any divergence from this rule should be punished immediately with a firm spanking, commensurate with the brazenness of the offender.

Isn’t it always so much fun to get new spanking toys in the mail? Lisa writes:

I have to tell you about my husband’s new toys. Yes my package arrived and oh yes it was worth every penny. Just to refresh your memory I purchased a leather strap, a rubber strap, a leather paddle and a cane.
…
it was late but I wanted to be spanked by at least one of the new toys. I wanted to know how they feel and what fun would possibly happen. I asked him if he would paddle me tonight and he says sure choose one. That was no fair, I could not chose I wanted all three of them right now.

Yup, fun!

This just in: a new free gallery from Red Ass Teens, this one featuring a dark-skinned beauty being punished on the reformatory warden’s desk:

Same warning applies as last time I posted a Red Ass Teens gallery: don’t look at the last picture in the gallery unless you like watersports/degradation, as this outfit seems to think every spanking ought to end with the girl getting peed on. I know some folks do like that sort of thing and I’ll not speak against it, but if it’s not your kink it could really harsh your mellow.

We get letters, just like David Letterman, oh indeedy we do. Every now and then, I like to share with you an especially nifty bit of fanmail. This latest is from KittySlave, who writes:

I want you to know I’ve been coming to your website for a couple of years now. When I was in my late teens, I started trying to understand the weird cravings I had. I tried talking about it with a couple of my friends, and most of them just warned me of the wackos online. I ignored them, and started doing my own research. I found some sites, but they scared me. I started to wonder if all BDSMers were fullbore “blood must be showing” kind of people. I knew I couldn’t do that.

Then, somehow, I happened across your website. Now, up until this point, I hadn’t liked pictures; I loved stories, but no pictures. All the pictures I’d seen had been too hardcore. (Behinds beaten until they’re nearly black, etc.) I started checking out your site, and not only were you not like that, but you even made my desires look normal. That was a big shock to me.

I started coming back to keep up with your adventures with Bethie. She was also a surprise to me. I’m mischievous by nature, and all the online Doms I’d met had informed that mischief would be harshly punished. I couldn’t fathom why all mischief would be bad. Certainly if you go and pull a prank or whatnot, it could be bad. But all mischief? Then I started reading about Bethie; she definitely has her moments, and that was a relief to me.

A little over 2 years ago, I met my Master. He loves mischevious slaves. And even the pranks, he merely sees as a challenge, and not necessarily a reason for punishment. As the last two years have gone by, we’ve tried experimenting around with new things. One month ago, I introduced him to your website. Inspired, he’s had me start going through your archives for new ideas. Thanks to you we discovered figging (in fact there’s a piece of fresh ginger root in the fridge with my name on it…owie!), and spankmercials. He’s very fond of that! He was also delighted by your idea for what to do with Trivial Pursuit, and I’ve been required to come up with variations for other games as well. I’m still looking through the archives to see what else there is!

I just wanted to thank you for having helped guide my start into this journey. I’m now proud to say I like being spanked. (Well, at least when Master’s not around to hear me say it.) Oh, and thanks for the posting awhile back of ten reasons why marks are good. I’ve always been oddly proud of my marks, and so is Master. He now requires me to tell him if the marks have disappeared so He knows when to add new ones. Can’t have me going too long with no marks, now can He?

No indeed, KittySlave, he can’t! Thanks ever so much for your nice letter.

Bethie left me at a Circuit City on Thursday so she could do some unhurried shopping elsewhere. Turns out the Circuit City had no public restroom, unlike the PetSmart next door. Once in the Pet Smart and essential business completed, I said hello to the parrots and stopped by the horse supplies area to check for interesting new crops. Found one, even; a short number wrapped in a braided synthetic with a narrow-but-very-soft leather slapper loop on the end.

So yesterday I caught her coming out of the shower and gave her a test whacking with the new crop, which seemed to go well. But she weaseled her way out of a more extended test by raising the spectre of a Monday doctor’s appointment at which she doesn’t feel like explaining unusual welts. Fair enough, I’m a patient man, I can wait, I can calculate interest (well, more like vigorish, heh). But I was just reminded of this when I saw the following on the BDSM Technique discussion forum at Bondage.com:

I did forget about an upcoming doctor’s appointment once. For a Pap smear, no less.

Riding crop had left deep purple bruises striped all along the inner part of both thighs.

My doc went through the entire exam without a hitch, and then, rising and removing her gloves, glanced at me, one eyebrow raised, and said “I assume those are recreational? You understand, I do have to ask…”

It’s hard to shock a doctor these days.

Uh, oh! You’re in trouble now, girl:

You can try begging, but I don’t think it will help!

From this spanking gallery, courtesy of the Lupus Spanking (formerly Rigid East) people.

The other day I was looking at a spanking website, written by a man, and it gave me the minor flesh creepies. The topic was the enjoyment the writer got from “improving” young ladies by bringing discipline to their lives. Which is fine and all in a role-playing sense, but this guy seemed to be completely serious. His tone was avuncular (in that bad-uncle-who-never-gets-invited-to-watch-the-kids sense) and his writing was full of diminutives whenever his “girls” were mentioned. They were described as scatterbrained moppets who couldn’t hope to function without his firm hand, paddle, cane, riding-crop, and so forth. He, of course, derived sexual pleasure from their discipline only as a minor secondary benefit; his true joy (he said) lay in giving them the direction and loving attention they needed to get and keep their lives in order. A bleedin’ humanitarian, that’s wot ‘e is.

Me, I call bullshit.

I remember when I was young and trying to figure out sex and kink and all this. And one thing I remember is the rather considerable tension between (on one hand) wanting to do various not-nice things to the young women of my acquaintance, and (on the other hand) my self-image as a nice, decent guy. One way of resolving that tension was to build elaborate fantasy scenarios in which the young women “deserved” their spankings or whatever, or in which the spankings were really for their own good, or were necessary to save a bus full of orphans, or … you get the idea.

Of course, the trouble with such fantasies is that they tend to be wildly implausible, or intellectually dishonest, or both. At the end of the day, it’s really not OK to spank the bay-jeebus out of cute-but-incompetent female burglars, even if they are caught trying to steal insulin from a diabetic nun.

So how to resolve this tension between kinky desires and nice-guy self-image? Eventually, yet well before any delectable young ladies consented to my lustful grasp, I figured out that I couldn’t resolve the tension by finding better excuses to act in kinky ways for the good of all; no, I needed to modify my self-image. In my own mind, I became a nice, decent, kinky guy with a hint of controlled dangerousness (at least when I’m flattering myself). In other words, I decided that (so long as the ladies are willing) I don’t need no steenkin’ excuse to be kinky. Kinky is OK.

And that comfort with the morality and general “okay-ness” of kink is what I found missing on the “improving her life through spankings” website I was reading the other day. But there was more to my discomfort than that. I read a lot of kinky blogs, and I see folks struggling to be comfortable with their kinks all the time. I’m sympathetic or mildly derisive depending on my mood, but I don’t usually have the strong negative reaction I had to Mr. Savior Disciplinarian.

Along comes Bonnie to the rescue. Writing in honor of International Women’s day, she makes mention of

…web sites that portray women as being inherently inferior. Worse yet, we are shown as hopelessly flawed creatures who would be lost but for constant guidance and frequent punishments delivered by men. I find these characterizations offensive and insulting.

I read that and recognized Mr. Savior Disciplinarian. In bending over backwards to find a good-enough excuse to spank women, he apparently convinced himself that they are not really able to manage their own afffairs without his stern-but-loving guidance. In short, he wasn’t acknowledging them as fully-competant adult human beings.

Bonnie writes further:

There are feminists who, with good intentions, lump all women of kink in with the unfortunate oppressed. In their minds, we couldn’t possibly choose this lifestyle without having been coerced, presumably by a man. In its way, this generalization is nearly as objectionable and patronizing. In both cases, other people who claim to understand our interests better than we do ourselves seek to constrain our roles.

I was born female, but I am a spanko by choice. I am empowered to make my own decisions. I freely choose to loan my control to my husband because that kind of play brings us enjoyment and fulfillment. This act doesn’t render me forever inferior. It says nothing about the rightful role of any other woman or man.

Bonnie is, of course, correct. How can someone claim to be a feminist while simultaneously refusing to respect a kinky woman’s capacity to consent?

Here’s a quaint scene of bedroom punishment with a leather strap, viewed from the best possible angle:

From Real Spankings, one of the sites in the Real Spankings Pass family of spanking paysites.

Marcus at A Spanker’s View understands how birthday spankings are supposed to go, and he doesn’t mind doing what’s necessary to make sure his bratgirl gets the memo:

Penny woke up. I hadn’t awakened yet, but Penny was always mischievous. She had lowered the blanket and sheets so that my bare butt was exposed. Then she started to spank me!

Talk about a wake up call!

I was suddenly alert, and moving around to stop that. “What are you doing, wench?”

Brazenly, she announced, “Spanking you! It’s your birthday! I think you get 3* swats this year!”

I grinned. “I think you are right. Crawl over my lap now, Penny.”

“What? No, You get the swats this time. It’s your birthday!”

She was shocked as I pulled her over my naked lap. Her camisole slid up, but her bottom was as bare as it almost always was in bed with me…

I know a few of you more conservative spankos out there don’t play with floggers, or anything else that smacks (heh) of the whips-and-leather BDSM culture. But a lot of you do enjoy floggers. (I know Bethie prefers our flogger to most of our spanking toys, possibly excepting just a few of our friendlier leather paddles. )

So for you flogging fans out there, how would you like having this awesome wood-and-rope flogging frame in your bedroom?

I suppose it’s not everyone’s idea of bedroom decor, but I think it’s highly decorative. (Enhanced, to be sure, by the ample curves of model Sydnee Capri, but unless your decorator is very persuasive and your significant other very understanding, that probably won’t be happening.) You can see it “in action” in this movie gallery from Hogtied.com:

And here’s another still photo, which comes from this picture gallery:

I want one.

There’s no question that digital cameras have revolutionized amateur erotic photography. With no developing service in the loop, and no film costs, it’s a lot more fun to snap pictures in the bedroom. Of course, there’s still the trust issue to manage between photographer and model, as shown in this anecdote from Bonnie:

When he decided I had received my fair share of swats, he directed me to stand in the corner. This is not one of our regular rituals. I suppose we’ve done it before as a kind of submissiveness test, but it’s been ages. At this point, I was feeling well spanked and in the mood for almost anything. I would much rather have moved straight to the bed, but for the time being, I was willing to play along.

So there I stood with my nose in the corner and my pants at my ankles. I could tell that Randy was enjoying the view, but this arrangement wasn’t doing much for me. He left the room for a moment with the instruction, “Stay right there.” When he returned, I thought I heard him chuckle. As soon as I turned to see, he commanded me to get my nose back in the corner. I decided the whole business was silly and pointless. Instead of making love, we’re doing what?

Flash!

For a split second, my little corner was brightly illuminated. That mumble-frumble took my picture while I was standing there like that! I totally didn’t know what to say.

Years ago, he took a lot of pictures of me. In those days, we used conventional film that had to be developed in a darkroom. We weren’t about to give those kind of pictures to a commercial service, so we did it ourselves. The funny part was that I knew how to develop photographs and he didn’t. As a result, there were a number of unflattering pictures that simply didn’t turn out. Oh well.

With the digital camera, the game has changed completely. It’s his and he shoots what he likes. I don’t like to have my picture taken, and least of all at a moment like that. He knows this, and until yesterday, had displayed admirable restraint.

I wanted to give Randy a piece of my mind for violating what I thought was an implicit understanding. But I just couldn’t. He was giddy about his digital study in pink. He told me that he was delighted by how well the picture turned out and wanted to show me. Reluctantly, I gazed at the tiny monitor on the back of his camera. Even at two inches square and blurry, I hated it.

“That never goes anywhere!” I insisted.

“Don’t worry. It’s in safe hands.” Cautiously, I believed him. “Until you leave me,” he continued, “Then I’ll post it on Flickr.”

This came to me without attribution. I like the gleam in her eye, and the way he seems to be yelling and carrying on:

This severe little bit of amateur-looking art went by on alt. binaries. pictures. erotica. anime and caught my eye for its combination of innocence (her panties are still on!) and viciousness:

Here’s a pretty exposed bondage posture that any girl should fear who’s earned a brisk caning:

She’s not wiggling out of that one! (But hey, it could always be worse!)

From Sex And Submission.

Fred and Patty are playing with the whip again:

He helped me put the cuffs on and placed me over the pillows I’d piled in the middle of our bed when I first got home. Putting me into four point restraints followed suit.

“See this?” he pressed the coiled whip in my face as soon as he had me tied right.

I nodded, struggling to control an intense wave of anxiety.

“Kiss it Patty.”

I whimpered and obeyed.

“You want to it don’t you?”

“No! I’m afraid of it!”

“Yes, as you should be. But deep inside you, you’re curious aren’t you?”

I balked, struggled against the ropes and turned my head away. There was no way I could admit that. We’d never really talked about that yet. Wanting spankings and punishments had been hard enough to admit and accept. The curiosity and intrigue that the idea of being literally whipped woke up in me was just not comfortable. I could expose my anus and spread my ass cheeks for him and grasp stoke and revel in our reciprocal desires, yet I struggled with the whip?

“Patty?” There was an ominous warning in the tone of his voice. It made me tremble. I could fail here if I hid from the truth.

“OK! Yes I’m curious. I’m scared too!”

“That’s better. Fear is easy, curious is even better.”

He brought the whip down across my backside. I screamed and bucked, rearing up off the pillows as much as I could.

He chuckled and let me settle down. “That’s the way brat. 5 more like that and I know that you’re curiosity will be putty in my hands.”

He’s evil! But he was right. The whip has that searing tissue wrenching allure that only a cane wielded full force cane approach. The narrow but heavy schoolmaster strap ranks way up there with them too. Dished out hard for punishment they have the potential to be horrific instruments. Offered up for intense play under the right conditions and I already know the cane and strap are exquisite. The whip has not yet entered my sexual mind though.

Fred started to change that Friday night.

Even though whipping play goes a bit past the comfort zones of many spankos, there can be no doubt after reading Patty that for some, it’s a great way to have fun with limit-stretching and feminine curiousity.