Spanking Blog: Adult Erotic Spanking At Its Best

I’ve mentioned before (see Mellow Faces Of Spanking) that the spanking models for Cal-Star Spanking often appear to have, shall we say, fully inhaled the essence of California recreational culture. And what better excuse for a spanking, really? Especially when your stoner starlets are (by happy coincidence) pretending to be straight-laced schoolgirls?

You can’t tell me these young ladies are entirely unimpaired:

And of course they get what’s coming to them here.

Alex from A Taste Of The Birch has found another gem, in this excerpt from Woman And Her Master by Jean de Villiot (1904):

“What is toward in this harem? We have heard of strange doings; they say that you, Abu-Anga, gallant warrior, have put your neck under the yoke of a slave woman. Is this white woman she? So it would seem that our generosity has proved your undoing. We thought by giving this woman to you it would add to your pleasures. What arts has this concubine used to gain the mastery of a man such as you? Can she be a witch? If this be so, she shall undergo the doom we have seen fit to pronounce against all casters of spells and makers of amulets; her right hand and left foot shall be cut off.”

He spoke slowly, sounding each word separately and distinctly, anxious that Grace should understand all he said. The simple eloquence and savage emphasis that had won him the hearts of his warriors vibrated in every sentence.

Grace, frantic with terror, fixed her wide frightened eyes on the Mahdi, her teeth chattering in panic.

Abu-Anga threw himself at the Mahdi’s feet, humbly kissing the sleeve of his djibbeh and crying: “I am the one to blame! She is no witch. Her power comes only from my feebleness in the face of her beauty!”

“If this be so, she must be taught the power her master wields. She must be humiliated! You shall have her, Abu-Anga, here and now, in my presence. But first her proud English spirit must be chastened. Let the Eunuch thrash her!”

Grace lay without saying a word, her eyes, wide with horror, fixed on the Mahdi’s face. She clasped her hands in sign of supplication, and, suddenly throwing herself at his feet, kissed the hem of his robe. But he snatched it from her with a haughty gesture and, pushing Grace from him with his foot, struck his hands together. The huge Fardji entered at his summons.

“Give this woman twenty lashes. Thrash her as they thrash women who are cold and barren.”

“Shall I take her away, eminence, and chastise her before the other women?”

“No. Do it here and at once!”

So saying, the Mahdi seated himself on the sheepskin, inviting Abu-Anga to sit beside him. The man trembled in every limb and great drops of sweat stood out on his forehead. He kept his head down so as to avoid Grace’s eyes.

The Eunuch laid hold of the girl who was now so stunned with terror she actually helped the giant to take off her clothes, never ceasing all the while to cast imploring glances at Abu-Anga.

It was not until she found herself stark naked that the shame of her nudity in front of the men struck her, and she made an abortive protective movement with her hands, which the giant Eunuch prevented her from completing. He tied her two wrists together and laid her across the anagareb, or bedstead, her face downwards. To each of her feet, he attached a thong, taking care to have her legs well spread asunder.

Then began the punishment. Fardji measured his distance and the flexible end of the kourbash, after completing a figure of eight over his head, fell whistling across Grace’s loins. She uttered a piercing scream; but already a second blow, answered by a howl of agony, was biting into her posteriors. Unceasing and unremitting the lash descended again and again on the delicate flesh, blow following blow in regular cadence until ten had been administered. The heavy kourbash scarified her buttocks, while the pliant tip continued to catch her thighs on the inside, just where the skin is most tender. Grace sobbed and screamed, in hoarse unremitting cries of pain, both in English and in Arabic.

“Enough..enough! Stop, I implore you, stop!..I shall go mad with the pain! Oh Abu-Anga, you say you love me - and you let them kill me! Help! Help! Save me from this torment, I beg you. I will love you as a woman should, I swear…”

But the only answer was the whistle of the kourbash through the air, and the dull thud with which it came down on Grace’s tormented flesh. With groans and incoherent phrases, interrupted by sobs and sighs, the girl breathed out her agony.

“Oh the pain -the pain! I will do anything, I swear! Anything you wish! Have mercy!”

There was no doubt that she suffered but, in the midst of the pain was a strange incipient sense of voluptuous pleasure. She groaned in genuine anguish yet felt a rising undercurrent of intense sexual desire. The blows kindled a strange ardour, and her gasps were as much a langorous craving as an expression of pain. She was suddenly wild for the embrace of a man. Suddenly she wanted to perform all kinds of acts no matter how servile and submissive.

The executioner, after a short rest, set himself to the task afresh. He turned Grace over so that she lay face upwards, her treasures on full display. First came a sharp stroke on either calf, and Grace shuddered, throwing herself back as far as the play of her bonds allowed. Next the lash, drawn from below upwards, wound round her navel rasping the tender flesh. This was followed by a storm of hoarse inarticulate cries, screams in which the words were no longer distinguishable. But the blows fell regularly and methodically, beating always on the same place, touching up her tender thighs, the tip striking her belly up as high as the navel.

Meantime the Mahdi examined Abu-Anga with a cold and critical gaze. The colossus, eyes half closed and nostrils quivering, stood as if fascinated. His whole body was a-tremble, and his clenched fists seemed to announce an instant and savage onslaught. The Mahdi made a sign to the Eunuch who untied the woman and left the hut. Then, with a hoarse whisper of “Take her now!” he pushed Abu-Anga towards the trembling, weeping Grace.

With a roar like a wild beast, the giant threw himself on top of the white woman, straining her in his arms as if he would stifle her, and kissing her frantically. Now she returned his kisses. Their savour seemed no longer sour; her nostrils quivered as they drank in the odour of the rampant male. The smell of him was a heady perfume, strong and delicious.

Abu-Anga enfolded her in his stalwart and passionate embrace, and the shock of his maleness against her tortured body, swollen under the lash, appeared to Grace a torture of ineffable delight. She gave herself to her lover in wild pangs of frenzied joy.

The popular spanking fiction trope of the frigid or unwilling woman who becomes sexually lively as the result of a good spanking, whipping, or beating was old in 1904, but it never loses its charm. What I find fascinating is the change in my own response to it.

When I was but a mere callow youth reading dirty books scavenged from unlikely places, this trope struck me as wildly implausible, on the same order as all those Penthouse Letters tales that begin “So I knocked on this lady’s door with her pizza, and when the door opened, she was wearing nothing but a smile….” Mind you, I always enjoyed the fantasy of a woman becoming hopelessly, helplessly sexually aroused by various kinky mistreatments, but I always assumed it was the worst sort of pish and tosh.

Sad to say, despite some early personal experiments and an increasing exposure (as the age of the internet dawned) to an increasing number of real world non-fiction accounts of kinky people and their kinky doings, it wasn’t until fairly recently (just a few years ago) that I fully internalized (and got over my disbelief) that there really are lots of women wired this way.

How often in life do we get to discover that the world is a warmer and better place than we ever imagined it might be?

See Also:

• Harem Punishment
• Punishment In The Harem
• Punishment Night In The Harem
• Decadent Cruelty, Bamboo Cane

Apparently that’s the question Abel’s been asking lately, with a supporting “No one will be watching us”:

There is something about this empty road through the fields at the back of our house that whispers to Abel: “Spank your wife, now.”

The emptiness of the road is really open to chance. Plenty of people drive there and back along the unevenly paved track, and it’s a great quiet spot for joggers, dog walkers and riders. But not, as we have often found, at eight o’clock on a Saturday night.

We were at a drinks party at our friends’ house, and I was flagging. We were lazily gearing up for the walk home, when Abel leaned close to my ear and said: “You’re getting your bottom smacked when we’re in the lane.” The promise gave me a pleasant chill, and sure perked me up enough to go looking for my boots and coat. I would normally feel apprehensive about this, but we’d had a few vanilla days before that, and the evening had been mostly vanilla too, so I quite fancied a reminder that I was, in fact, kinky.

There are no streetlights along the road. When we turned into it from the village green, the first few paces were still lit from behind our backs, but all the rest was darkness. The trees ahead were obscuring the lights from our village ahead, and the town that lies across the fields was curtained with mist…

Sometimes, you know, you’re just in your barn, minding your own business, and you find a pretty girl tied naked to a post in there:

“Hey, wow, what’s this? There’s a pretty girl in bondage, in my barn! What am I gonna do? It looks like she needs a good spanking with my riding crop, don’t you think so too? But wait, it would be more fun if I turned her around and cropped her pussy, too, right?”

Of course, as in all the scenarios from Sex And Submission, the spanking is just the foreplay before the bondage sex.

James Stephenson has used some initiative in web surfing for fun spanking photos. And he’s found coeds in schoolgirl costumes at English disco parties:

He writes:

For some time now, people on blogs like this have been hunting out pictures of interest on the standard websites for sharing photographs by searching for things like birthday spankings. I love those pictures just because they’re ordinary people who, in most cases, probably wouldn’t regard themselves as having a spanking kink. The three pictures below come from a source I’m just starting to explore and haven’t seen used elsewhere as yet - university students’ unions.

…

Generally speaking you go to the university homepage - from there find a section concerned with students and there’s usually a link to a website for the Students Union (in some cases ‘Guild’). Most commonly then you find a section called Entertainment (sometimes ‘Ents’) and within that galleries.

[These] images are taken from UK University Students’ Union websites for School Disco themed events which seem a useful source of interesting shots.

Isn’t this a pair of cuties?

We don’t do politics on Spanking Blog, for the simple reason that there are ten zillion political blogs out there who do ‘em better. So this is not posted in any particular partisan spirit. Rest assured that a larger-than-life parade float depicting the spanking of any head of state — wait a minute, who am I kidding? make that anybody — would probably get mentioned here. In this case, we’ve got George Bush being spanked by the Statue Of Liberty:

A float depicting U.S. President George W. Bush being spanked by the Statue Of Liberty passes by during the Rose Monday carnival parade in Mainz, western Germany, on Monday, Feb. 19, 2007.

Thanks to M for the photo tip.

You’d yell too, if you were hauled down to the wine cellar, propped naked on a plastic milk crate, and spanked to a fare-thee-well with that monster huge leather strap:

Apparently this is the wrong manor house in which to be a cute but inept serving girl.

(From this gallery at Spanked Cutie.)

If you’ve spent any time at all on the spanking internets, you’ll find that the boards, forums, blogs, chatrooms, and so forth have a population that includes a hefty percentage of lonely and frustrated people. That seems sad, but it’s not. In fact, it’s smart. As I wrote years ago, participating in an online community is the best way to find spanking love (this was written for guys, but it works even better for the ladies):

My advice to spanking lovelorn guys: there are a startling number of women out there who want to be spanked and say they can’t find a man to do the job. The thing is, most of them aren’t going to want to meet you right away — that’s just too dangerous and freaky. So go and find yourself an online spanking community based around a bulletin board system and participate on the boards. Be yourself, be fun and funny if you can pull it off, and above all, be honest about who you are. Keep at it (we are talking months, here) and before you know it, women who now know you and like you will start sending you friendly emails and IMs on totally innocuous subjects. What you do then is left as an exercise for the student. Trust me, you’ll be harvested.

I speak from (happy) experience here.

I was reminded of this by Mija’s recent post on The Punishment Book: 10 Years Ago Today On alt. sex.spanking. Mija’s known to the spanking community for her years of participation on a.s.s, for her spanking stories (many of which can be found collected at Pablo & Mija’s Treehouse), and of course for her blogging at The Punishment Book. Now she writes what to me is a heartwarming tale of how she found love and spankings (but I repeat myself) on the internet:

10 Years Ago Today on alt.sex.spanking I delurked with a story and a very few details about myself, given the name Mija by Bea, who, at the time, was a regular poster. Usenet was very mysterious to me, as Ron McIngle discovered to his pain as he tried to explain to me where I was and how I got there. I didn’t have web access — I’d found alt.sex.spanking via crosspostings from a Los Angeles personals newsgroup. The spam was very heavy — probably at least 95% of the group’s content at the time. But the community, in the midst of planning the creation of this group, shone through. That it existed at all seemed more amazing then I could bear.

At the time I was 29, in the middle of the first year of my MA program and floundering in an unhappy marriage that had taken my 20s and left me feeling far older than I was. My (now) ex husband saw my interest in spanking as “outside any idea” he could have about me. I’d buried my desires deep, only to have them reappear, triggered by writings of feminist Dorothy Allison.

ASS/SSS gave me another world and life to be part of, a place where I could write and post the fantasies that had made up my inner life for years. Tasha, who at the time had bravely moved in with the man who would be her Daddy for a number of years, and others here inspired me to imagine that my life could be better — that I could give myself a chance to find someone who could love me and find my interest in spanking something other than a sign of pathology. Further, through SSS, I was able to meet other women who had similar feelings about spanking and could see that I wasn’t strange — or at least wasn’t alone in craving both play and pleasure and punishment. To the other women who write on the Punishment Book, many thanks to you too for all the love and acceptance you’ve given me.

Less than 10 days after I posted my delurk, Pablo and I exchanged the first of what would become more emails then I can count. When I had to go off-line that summer in order to get out of my marriage, he started a ritual of calling me nightly at midnight, despite his living 6000 miles away. Those days he seemed like the only person in the world who knew and cared for me. On my birthday that summer it seemed appropriate that he was the only person (including my family who lived in the same city) to manage to get me a present on the actual day. Over time I came to realize that he was my soulmate — one of a kind and meant for me. He understood and accepted that for me spanking was both the heart and soul of my sexuality and something that I needed and wanted to express real aspects of discipline and punishment. 10 years later and we’ve been married over two years.

My life is happier now than I even could have imagined then. I owe more to this community then I can express. It’s hard to know what to write. My best friends, parties, playmates, scenes and loves have come from here. This place and you people have given me more than I could ever hope to return.

This summer I’ll turn 40. I’m in the final year (or so) of my doctoral program. My 30s have been the most wonderful time of my life and I feel so fortunate to have found ASS/SSS, the scene and all that has come from those discoveries.

It’s not a new story — I’m sure my regular readers could chime in with a dozen more like it — but I like it because it’s the story that works. If — like a great many of my regular readers — you’re sitting somewhere alone (or at least, unloved) and kinky and frustrated, this is the best template I’m aware of for fixing that. It requires patience (if you’re a guy, it takes a lot more than ten days) and decent writing skills (enough to convey your basic decency and sense of fun in prose, consistently and over time) and not a hell of a lot more.

Remember Spank Vote ‘06?

It’s a little unclear what her motivation was — I think her bottom had been too long neglected — but Bethie posted a picture of a bunch of our toys and invited readers to vote on them, with the idea that the most-favored toy would get used on her, with the number of strokes equal to the number of votes.

Of course she hoped that her friends and readers would vote for the soft flogger or something twee and friendly like that. But no, y’all are a welt-thirsty bunch, and sensibly enough voted (early and often) for the clear lexan cane. Bethie never seems to remember, in the spanko world everybody wants to see the most vicious implement on offer, as long as it’s somebody else’s butt that’s in the line of fire.

Whereupon Bethie said “Ulp!” and promptly set up a long string of much-delayed, much-rescheduled medical appointments at which there was at least the remote possibility that somebody would be looking at her butt.

However, “We can’t, I can’t have welts, I’m going to the doctor!” is an excuse that will only fly for so many months. And so, on Valentine’s day, she finally got her big caning.

Since this was all her idea, I took it slow, gave her lots of time to rub and complain and wiggle her butt (you should see the video of that, but probably never will) and so forth. What I did not do is succumb to her “this is supposed to be fun, you’re only supposed to do it tappity-tap” blandishments. While this was not “sixty of the best” because the lexan cane cuts more than either one of us like, they were the strongest strokes I could deliver without cutting (much). I kept reassuring her that this was exactly the sort of fun she signed up for. As usual, she didn’t believe me at the time, but I think she does now. She’s already looking forward to playing with the new Delrin canes I bought her for Valentine’s Day.

In this free spanking movie clips gallery from Whipped Ass you’ll find more F/f spanking, as per usual for Whipped Ass. I specifically like this first clip from the gallery:

Why? Because I don’t believe I’ve ever seen such discrete thong spanking panties. Just a string and a cute patch of lace that appears when her legs get “too far” apart. Not that I really approve of such modesties, but as decoration goes, it has its value.

You should all go bother Bethie until she tells you about her new hairbrush and her new razor strop.

Y’see, for a long, complicated, and boring, yet enormously frustrating, chain of reasons, her bottom has been getting neglected an awful lot this winter. And she’s compensated by buying toys. On eBay, I guess. Toys that seem — before she gets them — mild and gentle.

Yesterday she oh-so-casually showed me her new hairbrush. It was light, and the handle too short for my large hands, and I wasn’t very impressed. But I grabbed her and yanked down her pants for a quick field test, and darned if she didn’t start leaping about and yelling and carrying on like I’d started whipping her with a sock full of fire ants. Since she wasn’t staying put, I had to throw her over the high arm of the couch (where she can flail her arms and legs without her bottom moving much) for more extensive testing, and lordy! the complaining and protesting I got! I swear, I’ve gotten less reaction from straps that would make a Georgia prison warden look over his shoulder for witnesses.

She immediately began explaining her plans to get rid of the thing, so of course I had to forbid that.

And then, not two hours later, she came into the bedroom to “show me” the razor strop she bought (”it was cheap”, yah sure) on eBay. Three minutes later she was yelling and protesting and complaining that it wasn’t anywhere near as soft and friendly as it looked in the picture.

Oh yeah, and make her show you the excellent paddles she bought at Hobby Lobby or one of them craft stores like that. She’s got a fancy digital camera, so accept no excuses.

So Plum had a good date with a new dom:

“Would you like to spank me?” I asked (begging in my brain).

“Oh, yes!” he said, and when I obediently bent over, slightly pushing up round bottom up off the bed, he said, “Oh, that looks so submissive, good,” and then he didn’t hold back in caressing my skin with his hands in between ever harder, more forceful splaps.

The sound of his hand on my skin was nothing next to the delicious stinging pain I felt as he rained open handed blows on my backside, hips and legs, and the warmth that spread through my body through the pain. Whe he took one one of his big hands and stuck his thumb right inside me, plugging me at the core as his other hand spanked my ass, it was so good I wanted to moan (and I did.)

I found a wonderful old innocent “garden spanking, with carpet beater” photo over at Vintage Spanking Photos:

See Also:

• More Carpet Beater Spanking
• A Carpet Beater For Buns

Somewhere, in some big city, there’s still a few holdouts, kinky people with no internets. There must be, if this artifact of the 1980s still manages to survive:

Found on Flikr.

You have just got to love “blushes in the basement.” Spankarama, baby!

There’s only one reason for that posture and those looks of mischief. “Sir, we’re ready for our spankings!”

Found in the vintage erotica newsgroup on Usenet.

The tireless Debra Hyde, author of the Pursed Lips blog and one of the few kinky bloggers I can think of who has been blogging for much longer than I have, has decided to reinvigorate her blogging style. And to start out the business, she’s written The Perimenopausal Pornographer: Notes From My Spank-o-Files. Which turns out to be a worthy spanking essay for several reasons, starting with the wry acknowledgment of that you don’t necessarily have to be a juicy young thing to enjoy a good spanking:

It was an email like any other, landing as innocuously in my mailbox as those that arrive from various mailing lists, web sites, and on-line pitchmen. But its message was anything but innocent. Blatantly, it blared in spam proclamation, “Young women who need spankings are everywhere – maybe even on your own street!”

I scoffed, of course they’re on my street! Or at least one of them is – me. But then I looked closely at this webcam come-on and one word stuck out at me: Young.

Ah, I see. Youthful, firm butts, soft as a baby’s behind. Rounded muscles, magnificently glutinous, perhaps reaching J-Lo generosity, all unblemished by the march of time.

Well, that excludes me. I’m afraid I fall into the as-yet-undesignated category of “Mothers I’d Love to Spank.” Perhaps even leaning towards grandmother status. Either way, I’m definitely among the “mature,” according to the lexicon of today’s pornographers.

Mature though I am, sometimes I need a spanking every bit as much as those “young girls” purport to, and I’m lucky enough to have a partner who enjoys dispensing the pleasure of pain. When Thomas puts me over his knee and applies the sting of his hand to my naked, trembling rump, slapping me until I’m squirming wildly and begging him to stop, my soul is in nirvana while my body steps one foot into hell. The sting of the human hand against my flesh is far more daunting than you might imagine, far more extreme to me than a whip or quirt or even a cane. Nothing stings as fiercely and, if not for Thomas’ erection pressing into my belly, I’d probably swear off hand spanking entirely.

The essay ranges widely after that, covering wooden spoons, sports bets, canes and decision making, the personal origins of spanking kinks, and even the ever-popular topic of why we like it:

Now, if the wherefores of spanking seem simple for us, the why’s aren’t all that complicated either. Spanking comes down to one thing: erotic pleasure. I love the sensation. I relish how it courses from rump to cunt, how undeniable my lust becomes. Thomas likes the marks, the redness, my squirming reactions, and (when he hits pay dirt) how my cunt plumps, swelling until it looks feverish and ready to burst.

Seriously, read the whole thing.

No slouch with rhetorical devices herself, and a dab hand with a simile, Haron nonetheless cracks me up with her description of rhetorical advantage (and ogres):

I let out my breath after the last one and looked at Abel over my shoulder. He had that pensive look again, like an ogre who had just eaten a little girl who wasn’t quite agreeing with his digestion.

“That was five lots of six-of-the-best,” he said. “You know about that schoolgirl who got caned every morning before her lessons? On our blog? If I gave you another dozen, you would have had her whole punishment in one go. I think that would be quite cool.”

I thought that it would be quite a sacrifice for the sake of I wasn’t sure exactly what, but I was the one with an upturned bare bottom, and Abel was the one with the dragon cane, and thus he seemed to be at a rhetorical advantage.

Indeed, the man with the cane always has a rhetorical advantage.

Why do you think they stopped teaching rhetoric in schools at the same time the school cane fell into disfavor? Coincidence? I think not!