Spanking Blog: Adult Erotic Spanking At Its Best

Here’s a real nice bit of vintage spanking art from Rare Erotica. It’s called “Harem Punishment” and it’s from Le Journal, in 1889:

Found a new spanking blog today, ShyCindy’s World. It caught my eye for two reasons. First, the “About Me” blurb contains a message that — sadly — too many kinky men, on and offline, need to hear:

I’m 26, cute… and into being spanked. This doesn’t mean I want to be treated like crap, or that I’m meat that lives for your pleasure. Get over yourself!

She also has some fun stuff to say about that old standby, the dollar-store light paddleball paddle:

Do you know those cheap paddle ball toys they give you as a kid? You know, a plywood paddle with a rubber ball on an elastic string? The ones you’re supposed to bounce the ball on as many times as possible-the ones they give you as a party favor at birthday parties when you’re little. I bought one at a local dollar store, and I keep it in my bedside table. When I first bought it, I had all these fantasies about putting the ball inside me, so that I could feel it tug every time the paddle was raised. This was an incredibly hot idea, but once I got it home and examined the item more closely, I realized it couldn’t work. The ball is a lot smaller than I remember it being as a child-I imagined it to be about the size of a tennis ball, but it’s actually smaller than a golf ball. If it were inside me, it would end up dropping right out, if there were the least bit of wetness (which would certainly be happening at the time). As an anal insert, it’s equally inept: the rubber band attaching it to the paddle is very a pitiably cheap and thin string, that even a slight bit of pressure would snap. My medical fetish is not nearly well-developed enough to enjoy the idea of kneeling fanny up, as a team of emergency room staffers fish around with forceps in my rectum. Add to that the fact the string is attached to the paddle with what would be a skin-scratching staple, I detached the entire apparatus (including pulling the staple out with a nail clipper).

As a spanking device, I really love my little paddle. Because of it’s size and weight, it provides a less dramatic spanking than a hair brush or wooden spoon, and because it covers about a third of a cheek with each blow, even a new spanker can wield it with accuracy. Also, it’s great with partners you’re converting to spanking, because they see the child’s toy with the silly cartoon on it, and they don’t have to suffer “spanker’s regret”. It takes several swats before the paddle starts to really sting, and by then they’re either so locked into the experience of spanking someone that they’re too comfortable to stress out about nonsense like if it’s healthy/unhealthy; or they’re never going to enjoy giving you a spanking, and the relationship either needs to be reconsidered, or at least you might need to have a serious talk about what behavior outside of the boundaries of monogamy is acceptable.

My paddle makes a quick, sharp ‘pop’ noise with each hit, and when I’m getting a rapid paddling, the echo of the slaps over-lap each other as they bounce against the walls. In relationships, the paddle is the implement I offer most often for correction of ‘crazy girlfriend’ behavior. After I pass through an episode of being bossy, irritable or hysterical for no known reason, I will regret my irrational mood swings, and set things up so that both my guilt and my partner’s suffering can be exorcised with the paddle.

Oh dear, it does not sound as if Angelbrat is the Jokari paddle fan Bethie is. (Bethie, how many have you ordered on Ebay now? Is it six?) Here’s Angelbrat:

By the time he got down Jokari, there was no arguing from me. I knew it was coming, knew I deserved it, and just wanted it done with. He lectured me a bit, then began to spank me. Jokari is the absolute worst paddle we own. It never comes out unless I’m being punished, and if I’m being punished, very rarely does anything else get used.

He continued to lecture as he paddled, and I learned pretty quick that it was not the time for excuses. It wasn’t very long at all before I was kicking and crying, and when the “please” fell off the “please stop!” he yanked down my pajama bottoms and spanked even harder.

Here’s a nice after-the-spanking picture from Real Spankings, showing one of their lovely models sitting rather gingerly on her bared bottom. If that paddle’s any indicator, she’s a mite sore:

Pictures of her spanking are here.

I have, in my time, been witness to some truly astounding feats of academic procrastination, the more epic of which have consumed months of potentially productive effort. But I never thought I’d see the day when getting a spanking (at eight in the morning, no less!) seemed preferable to getting to work:

This morning at breakfast I was cuddling my cup of coffee, convinced I would never, ever be able to type one more word again. Even thinking about going back to work made my eyes water a little bit.

“I can’t switch my brain on,” I complained to Abel.

He looked with me with due sympathy. And then he suggested:

“Maybe you need your bottom switching on? Would that help?”

Oh, I thought, a spanking! Why, that would take me out of the thesis misery for at least 10 minutes! It might even wake me up! I nodded several times with great enthusiasm.

He led me upstairs – by the hand, holding it gently, comfortingly. He sat on the bed and drew me over his lap. I hadn’t got as far as wearing any panties yet (panties at 8am don’t really happen), so he swept up my house dress and started smacking my bottom. It was a light spanking – as comforting as a long hug first thing in the morning. There was just enough sting to create a little cloud of warmth, but not enough to make me regret accepting his offer with so much enthusiasm. Little by little, my bottom was switching on.

But of course, this is Haron we are talking about.

The venerable Whipped Ass paysite doesn’t get mentioned here as much as it once did, because it has changed in content and tone from a dedicated F/f spanking theme to an all-female rough sex site, featuring rough lesbian sex, reluctant seductions, and all manner of intra-girl bondage sex and erotic meanness. It remains rather delightful if you like that sort of thing:

But alas, spankings have become just one more item on the menu, rather than the daily special they once were. Still, they do happen:

More at Grabbed By Annie Cruz.

See Also:

• Lesbian Sorority Spanking?
• Girls School Lesbians, Punished
• Vintage Lesbian Spanking
• Bucolic Lesbian Whipping
• Lesbian Flogging

Dolli has been keeping count of the number of wooden spoons broken across her bottom. Shouldn’t that be a spanking offense?

I only got to be with D during the day for a little bit, and I got a spanking even though I’m super sick humph! “Being sick is not an excuse for being a brat” is the lesson.

I kinda knew I had it coming just ’cause I’ve been in such a bad mood lately. We have this weird spatula thingy…I don’t really know what it is for but it’s some sort of heavy duty kitchen utensil with a metal handle and a plasticy flat piece with a big hole in the middle that serves as a replacement for the number of wooden spoons D has broken over my bottom. (which is 4!)

I probably would only have gotten a few smacks but I made it difficult. I ran away and I kicked and yelled. I said a lot of things I didn’t mean. I ended up having to lay on my back on the couch then D held my legs up with one hand and spanked me with the spatula with the other…

Kaya, as she sometimes does, has posted some great pictures of herself, including some chopstick bondage of tender bits and the red bottom and thighs she got from this spanking:

He had the wooden spoon, which is quite possibly one of the wickedest ‘normal’ spanking items to be found in your local kitchen utensil aisle. It packs a wallop of a sting.

He made me cry with that damn wooden spoon. The first cry since He’d been home, much needed and felt so so good. He’s immune to my tears, they have no effect on Him whatsoever (except that He strives to get them). But this time, He very lovingly got a tissue and wiped my eyes because my makeup was running and burning my eyes. Isn’t that sweet? *sarcastic smile*

Now really, that was very sweet of Him to wipe away the tears that He caused me to have. I appreciated it a lot.

So, it was declared a day of no pants the other day at Fantastic Spanking, and of course spankings ensued. And all was right with the world.

But I was left wondering something.

People actually wear pants in their houses when nobody’s around?

I never knew that. Why do they, I wonder?

Are you hungry for a good old-fashioned OTK spanking picture? I haven’t been posting quite as many spanking porn pictures lately, so you might well be. Here’s a bog-standard (but very cute) classic OTK position from the folks at Real Spankings:

From this gallery.

Here’s a pickup artist’s account of how he used spanking talk as part of his patter while chatting up women waiting in line to get into a club:

We go to the Bubble Lounge, and there are three cute girls in front of us, so I just start talking to them, “sorry I’m late, boss kept me at work, wouldn’t let me go, blah blah blah, he was whipping me, etc”. They totally are playing back, and I start getting one on one with the cute blonde girl, while my friends very cute wife talks to the other two. She totally likes the whips comments, and we talk about breaking out the whips on our second date. This is getting good, so I break out the classic, “I don’t know who your boyfriend is…but he is NOT spanking you enough.”

She looks at me, smiles, and says, “I don’t have a boyfriend.”

Promising!

The excerpt that follows is from near the end of a longer blog post that does much to set the scene. If you’re the type of blog reader who does click through, click through now — you’ll enjoy what follows much more in its original context.

If, however, you’re the type of blog reader who never clicks through, you’ll have to make do with the excerpt:

“Funny,” I said.

“What is?”

“I am. When you were listing all my qualities, you left out funny. I’m funny,” I reminded him.

He shook his head, “You’re funny, yeah. Anything else I forgot?”

“Yeah…I’m a good cocksucker.”

His head dropped into his hands and he shook it back in forth in resignation. “Jesus, Kristin. Why do you have to use language like that?”

“Sorry, should I have said fellatio?”

“Alright, finish your canolli. Time to go home,” he said in mock exasperation, as he searched the room for the waiter and our check. He was clearly enjoying my misbehavior. I’d never noticed this about him before.

“Uh oh…am in trouble, Theodore?”

“Kristin, finish it or I will. And, yes, you’re in trouble.”

“Can I have a spanking?” I requested. “I need to learn my lesson.”

“Good thing I’m a teacher, then,” he said…

This funny spanking statue was found, according to this, in a temple along the Yangtze river in China:

I’m sure there’s some complex folkloric/religous explanation. But who needs it?

In which Bonnie, channeling Miss Manacle, lays out the ten proper rules for a mannerly spanking. I’ve violated at least five of the ten:

Spankings seem a rather coarse activity to Miss Manacle, but she is assured that the participants are both willing and enthusiastic. Accordingly, we will henceforth not speak of these concerns. Assuming then that spankings are to be desired, there are a number of very common sense tips that can help to make our sessions more pleasant and harmonious.

1) As with any social function, a spanking should be initiated through an invitation and accepted with an explicit response. This arrangement helps to eliminate the possibility of embarrassing misunderstandings. The traditional engraved parchment may now be considered optional.

2) Always line up your implements neatly and work from the outside inward. There is simply no excuse for picking up a salad spoon during the main course.

3) During most spankings, it is necessary to expose skin that is not normally visible in polite society. In order to preserve some semblance of dignity for the person so revealed, editorial comments regarding shape, firmness, or color should be strictly avoided.

Bonnie, somebody needs to tell Miss Manacle about barbarians!

Bethie says I have strange opinions about what’s cute. But a pretty girl with her face all squinched up — how could this not be cute?

Of course she’s getting spanked, just as she should be. From Real Spankings.

If you’ve seen much modern porn, you’ll have stumbled over the MILF acronym. “Mothers I’d Love To…” Well, you get the idea. (And if you don’t, there’s a hilarious pro-MILF rant over on ErosBlog that will clue you in.)

Well, Matt, it turns out, has a thing for spanking moms. This is buried in a long long long report on a Shadow Lane spanking party/convention, so I’ll quote the MILS (sigh, not as snappy an acronym) paragraphs:

You know, please don’t ask me to have favorites – I play with a lot of different women who are a lot of different types of women – younger, older, long-time friends and new acquaintances, emotional, detached, chaste, erotic, discipline, role play, and just for fun. Some are in shallow scenes and others let me get into their heads; some have gym-hardened butts and others have pillow-soft bottoms. So when I say I like one thing it doesn’t mean I dislike the opposite – just that that one trait happened to add to the experience this particular time.

Having said that and ready to make a sweeping generalization, you know what I like about moms? They’re so grounded. Yes, I may be in the Scene for the drama of it, but I appreciate the way that nothing at the party is going to affect them all that much – it’s not that big a part of their life, it’s not their identity, they’re not asking me to validate their existence. And I think this frees them to enjoy playing more. In my experience moms play with you the way they want or they find someone else – after all, if you’re not looking for a relationship. just a guy with a strong arm and a reasonable amount of respect, there’s no lack of candidates.

In which SpungeBob Squarepants goes to Burning Man, has grand spanking adventures:

Found on Flickr.

You’ve got to approve whenever an anime character finds herself in this well-spanked bondage predicament:

From Bondage Blog.

Here’s another spanking story excerpt (from Selling Stephanie by Rosetta Stone:

“You’ll pay for that you stupid little tart! I can do whatever I like because I’m rich and respectable and you’re no more than a common little tramp. Call yourself a secretary? If you hadn’t wriggled your arse and tits at my husband, there’s no way he would have given you a job. And that you are about to regret!”

Still holding the handkerchief to her cheek and with a murderous look in her eyes, she nodded to the man holding Stephanie and the girl felt herself pushed roughly towards towards the desk. Her thighs banged painfully against the edge and she was pushed further forward, the weight of the man bearing down on her to bend her over the desk. Only when she was bent right over were her arms released. The relief from the relentless grip was tremendous but she was too numb to offer any resistance when she was grabbed again, her arms hauled straight across the desk.

…

Crack!

Stephanie squealed in shock and alarm as a blaze of heat ripped across the taut flesh of her bared behind.

Crack!

Another stinging blow smacked down and she twisted wildly around, straining to see what was happening behind her. Mrs. Lloyd was standing to one side of the desk, a thin leather belt dangling from her hand and a cruel smile playing on her thin lips. “I’ll teach you to insult me, you little slut!” As she spoke she raised her arm and whipped the belt down for the third time.

It hissed wickedly through the air and smacked down hard against Stephanie’s helpless backside. She whimpered and Mrs. Lloyd bent closer. “Better get used to the feel of leather on your pretty little arse because there’ll be plenty of that where you’re going.”

Stephanie whimpered again, concentrating hard on not writhing too much. Her backside was hurting a lot but she was much more concerned with keeping her legs pressed together to preserve what little modesty she had left. Mrs Lloyd noticed her desperate attempts and smiled.

“No room for modesty where you’re going, sweetie. Get those legs open!” She backed up the order with another wicked slash of the belt across Stephanie’s upthrust backside and another when Stephanie showed signs of hesitating.

“Come on, slut. The men here want a show.”

Tears pricking her eyes, Stephanie shuffled her feet apart. Her face flamed as red as the welts striping her backside as she realised how lewdly she was exposing herself, but if she didn’t…

Crack! Crack!

The belt slashed two searing tracks across her backside and she howled out loud, twisting and writhing over the desk.

“Wait, I want to see her tits.”

Stephanie stiffened as the man behind her spoke. She wailed in protest but it was no use. He moved up close behind her, his body crushing her bruised buttocks as he leaned over her. His hands slid beneath her, groping for the front of her blouse, fingers sliding inside and gripping the flimsy material. With a quick jerk he ripped it open, buttons popping loose and and spilling to the desk top beneath her, the material tearing as he pulled the garment out from under her. She wasn’t wearing a bra and her bare breasts spilled out, nipples puckering on contact with the cold wood.

“Lift her up. Let’s have a good look.”

The pressure on her wrists eased as the man holding her pushed her back across the desk, and then Stephanie felt her hair grabbed and twisted, her head forced up. As her torso lifted clear of the desk her breasts spilled forward, firm and round, nipples hard and swollen.

“Nice tits, very nice.” The man holding her wrists leered wickedly at her and Stephanie shuddered at the look in his eyes. Behind her, his companion pressed close, cupping the gently swaying breasts and squeezing hard.

“Yes.Very nice. Nice and firm.”

…

Mrs. Lloyd unwittingly came to her rescue. “Leave her for now,” she ordered. “I want to thrash her hard. I want to give her a thrashing to remember me by.”

Stephanie wailed in protest , but already the man behind her was moving back, leaving her backside open and exposed to the belt.

Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack!

With almost unbearable force , the supple leather whipped down onto her invitingly jutting backside. The heat flared through her at once,stinging and burning and wringing high pitched howls from her lips. Her hips bucked and writhed in a futile effort to evade the searing lash , but there was no respite.

Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack!

The blows whipped in to criss cross the weals already striping her, each new blow an added increment to the burning pain that engulfed her entire backside. The belt whipped up and down relentlessly and her cries and pleas went unheeded. Her body rocked and twisted, a sheen of sweat shining on her pale skin and glistening on her breasts. Her cries were breathless, cut off and choked short by each new smack of the lash across her quivering flesh. Where the lash struck, her skin rippled and flared a deep angry red and she sobbed in despair as she realised she was going to be whipped raw. Her wrists were sore from being clamped so tight while she writhed and twisted helplessly and still the belt smacked down.

Crack! Crack!

No matter how desperately Stephanie writhed and twisted, the lash found her, raising long stinging weals across her already burning flesh. Tears clouded her eyes, her breath rasped harshly in her throat and she slumped limply forward. It was useless to resist. If anything her desperate writhing was serving only to incite Mrs. Lloyd to thrash her harder.

I do enjoy the eye-catching visual feast provided by the mean fellows at Pain Gate. Although they play a lot harder than Bethie and I do, or want to do (even if she is enjoying my recent whip purchase), their stuff is often fun to look at. Here, one of their models is suspended by one leg for helpless pussy exposure, which is being cheerfully exploited by means of a narrow-bladed flogger:

Ouchies! But think of the fun to be had rubbing and “soothing” the affected area. (An evil man would mix a bit of fresh ginger juice into his aloe lotion….)

See Also:

• The Lap Spanking
• Cartoon Blonde, Whipped
• Comic Book Pussy Whipping
• Pussy Whipping, Prison Camp Style
• Pussy Whipped Pain Toy

From erotic author Alison Tyler comes this story of spanking in the best place available, namely, the back seat of a ’67 Chevy:

We used the back seat of his car, a huge cherry-red ’67 Chevy. We found alleys. We fucked in Griffith Park. We went all the way in a department store dressing room—I’d needed to buy more clothes: jeans, t-shirts, an actual wardrobe. We had no fear any longer. Who the fuck cared if someone saw us? Exhibitionism has always been one of my weaknesses. Connor was more than ready to play. He wrapped my wrists with his wallet chain and spread me out in the Chevy’s huge rear seat. He always took his time, looking at me, making me feel even more naked by the way he evaluated every part of my body. His hands roaming over my shoulders, my small breasts, down to the basin of my belly. He liked to hook his fingers into my nether lips and spread me wide, blowing a puff of air over my pussy before locking his lips on my clit and sucking. Making me come was no challenge for him. I melted at the way he touched me. Sometimes so rough, I was shaking. Sometimes, so softly, I’d beg him to stop teasing.

“Please—“

He loved to hear me beg.

“Please, what, baby?”

“Oh, god, Connor. You know.”

“Say it—“

Cruel, he was. I’d been rebuked. I’d been put down. I hated spelling out what I wanted. And Connor loved every torturous minute.

“I want to hear you say it.” His fingers tracing lightly over my ribs, making me squirm and pull away laughing. And as soon as I moved away, he’d be on me, biting my bottom lip, holding me in place with his body, still fully clothed. His voice whiskey-soft and dark, “Tell me, Alison. Tell me what you need.”

My eyes down, my hair falling forward, unable to look at him, even though I knew he already knew. Even though I knew he didn’t think I was broken, he didn’t think I was damaged goods. “Spank me, Connor.”

And he’d flip me over his lap and give my ass the lightest little patty-cake spanking. “Like this?”

I’d know better than to laugh, because all hell would break loose if I didn’t take him seriously. I’d know to turn my head to stare up at him over my shoulder, to meet his eyes and say, “No, Connor,” my voice a whisper. “Harder, please. Spank me for real.”

And, Christ, I would feel his cock grow even harder as he’d hold me in place, getting ready for the first part of the evening’s punishment.

Sometimes, he bent me over the hood of his car and striped me with his belt, taking it off my own waist first, his hands so rough, undoing the buckle, sliding the old brown leather free.

Spanking helps Cuddlybum sleep:

Then we went to the park for Mardi Gras, and bought this HUGE paddle. Its about three times the size of the other one, really, really heavy and so much worse to feel, but felt oh so lovely when we tried it out at the hotel that night when we were all pissed!!! The belvoed was scared of hurting me, but it jsut felt great and happy and really helped me sleep.

Then I was beggin for a spanking again before we left the hotel so I got another one – still not a too ahrd one, but enough to leave my bum red last night when I got home!!! Then the long drive back to home and feeling all depressed cos it’ll be Friday before i can have his arms around me again and his hands (and that new paddle!!) on my ass again…….

Hey, whatever works!

First she watches Secretary with her best male friend. And then she lures him into giving her a friendly spanking:

As we were hugging one last time (supposedly), I said, “Lee’s boss really wasn’t spanking her quite the right way, though.”

“No?” said my friend.

“No. See, pure force isn’t the thing. It’s anticipation, and it’s force paired with pleasure. Like . . .” I took a chance and drew his hand down to my ass. With my hand over his, I rubbed softly and then squeezed. “Like this, first, and then . . .” I picked his hand up and brought it back down against me, hard. I gasped a little, even though I’d been expecting it. I used his hand to squeeze me again. “And then a caress to make it feel better.” Then I had him smack my ass once more. “See?” I said, and I could tell I was just the slightest bit breathless. “It’s not knowing when it’ll happen, it’s the pain and the pleasure together, it’s not knowing which will come next.”

“Uh huh,” he murmured. His hand was still on my behind, rubbing me oh so gently. We hadn’t broken the hug; I had my arms around his neck, and, god, I knew what I wanted. Was it coming? Would it happen?

It did. Smack! His hand cracked across my ass, hard, and I yelped. There was no intervening caress this time; he followed that blow with another, and another. I tightened my arms around him, pressed my face into his chest, and just let it happen, the smacks and the squeezes, hard and harder and soft and hard again. I was moaning and gasping and clutching him, finally begging, “Again! Again!” I could feel the orgasm building, and when I finally came, it hit me so hard that I would have slithered bonelessly to the floor if his other arm hadn’t been around me, holding me securely, throughout it all.

In which Slave L gets a paddle spanking for failing to remember a simple task (well, simple but for the element of public exhibitionism), and then thanks her master properly, after:

i wondered on the way home if Master would comment about my disobedience and initially i thought He was going to bypass it but when were laying in bed He asked why i had not done as He’d told me and as ridiculous as it sounded i could only answer that i’d simply forgotten. He asked if that was really the case or if i’d just been too nervous but it was in fact forgetfulness, it had slipped my mind completely until He’d brought it up. He told me that forgetfulness was not a good reason and to bring Him the wooden paddle. i returned to the bed and offered Him the paddle, He told me that i was to have 10 strokes with it, i was to count them, thank Him and then ask for the next one, all audibly, oei the latter was the biggest problem.

Kneeling on the bed i waited for the first, the wooden paddle is probably the nastiest one He has but it can also be pretty cool if He doesn’t use it too hard, what would it be today? The wait is always horrible, part of me just wants Him to start, to feel whatever it is that He has in store for me, the other part wants to flee in fear. That usually only lasts as long as it takes to feel the first stroke, then i’m totally lost to Him and the sensations He causes.

When it finally came the first lash was harsh and took my breath away, it took me a moment to recover enough to be able to thank Him and ask for the next. i’m not sure if its the element of shock that always seems to make the first one so severe, today was no exception to that, each following stroke seemed less painful. What did surprise me was that instead of waiting until the pain had fully ebbed before asking for the next as i usually do, i heard myself asking while i was still trying to deal with the last stroke. Then came the final one, i heard Master ask which it was, i told Him the last, He replied “and you know what that means don’t you?” i did, it would be the harshest of all, and it was, and in spite of knowing that there was no way that i could brace myself for it.

my arse was still burning as i laid my head on Master’s shoulder, as He held me He commented that maybe that would help me not to forget the next time. i felt how He gently guided my head down to His rock hard cock and as i took Him into my mouth i felt how He slid His fingers inside me stating how soaked my cunt was.

Pretty blonde motorists with vehicle trouble — how many porn scenarios open this way?

Alas, the dude on the four-wheeler is no leather-clad knight of the roadways. In no time her wrists are tied, he’s feeling her up with utmost concentration, and she’s so about to get a spanking:

And not just a spanking: our opportunistic anti-hero has a whip, a dick, a mile of rope, and a handy bale of hay. The shoot is from Sex And Submission.

From a quote board for Eve Online, this bit of gamer spanking chat:

Ivana Bloe’Jah > i want to be spanked
Yun Hui > /emote spanks ivana
ZX525 > /emote spanks ivana
ZX525 > /emote punches yun
ZX525 > thats my woman u touching
Yun Hui > /emote is a girl
ZX525 > /emote aplogises and gets the video camera
Yun Hui > thats more like it :)

I pretty much missed the golden age of movies that had lots of spanking and whipping in ’em (although there was one nice sexual butt-wallop in Crank, the movie I saw last night). I’ve never even heard of 1947’s Black Narcissus, but the girl getting whipped seems plenty cute enough:

Found in the vintage erotica newsgroup on Usenet.

See Also:

• Hot Summer Spanking
• Another Movie Spanking
• Spanking In the Movies

I’ve been working on my search engine technique lately, trying to find all the spanking blogging that happens as “one off” tales on salacious blogs I don’t routinely read. Some gems have turned up, including this cam girl’s story of the schoolgirl spankings she got:

He asked me if I was a good girl or a naughty girl, and he said only naughty girls went without panties. I told him I was naughty, and he wanted to know just how naughty I was. The whole time, he was rubbing my tits and rolling my nipples between his fingers. As I told him what I’d done this morning, and how I’d been on yahoo and fucked myself on cam for strangers to watch, he squeezed my nipples harder and harder, until they were starting to get sore. Then, he told me that I was a naughty little slut, and deserved a spanking.

He made me get across his knees and flipped my skirt up, spanking me with his hand. I could feel his erection pressing against my tummy. I thought he was just going to play a little but, after he warmed me up, he started spanking pretty hard, and I was jerking around on his lap and yelping for real. He held me down and threatened to gag me, so I quieted some, but part of me really wanted to be gagged. He stopped and told me he’d finish spanking me later, then pushed me down between his legs.

I was kneeling there, looking up at him laying on the bed, and he was squeezing my tits. Then, he grabbed my pigtails and pulled my mouth down to his cock. Once he got me moving to the rhythym he wanted, he reached down and squeezed my nipples while I sucked on him, pushing my head down every once and a while when I slacked off, or when he wanted to thrust himself deeper down my throat. When I thought he was going to shoot his load in my mouth, he jerked up on my hair and pulled me up towards him, so I was straddling his cock.

…

After a break and some sodas, we went back for bed, supposedly to go to sleep for the night. I’d forgotten about the rest of my spanking and, when I went to lay down he told me to wait and get over his knee, then took my wooden hairbrush off the dresser and spanked me until my ass was sore all over and I was on the verge of crying. Then, he told me to go to sleep and snuggled tight against me…