I thought I’d try something new in this post, in an effort to show you bigger pictures. Try mousing over the pictures below, and let me know what you think of the new format!
Our story begins, as so many do, on the viciously mobbed-up island of Sicily.
Here we see a pretty blonde housewife giving her porch plants their morning water. Birds are singing, the sun is shining, maybe her cordless vibrator is all charged up on her bedside table. Whatever; the point is, the day is bright with happy possibilities. Until…
“What’s this? Who could be coming up the drive so early in the day? None of our neighbors have a car like that. And what is all the ruckus?”
Oh, dear. It’s Sergio and Giovanni, looking like refugees from a Dukes of Hazzard fan convention. All they need is a coat of orange paint for the Generalissimo Lee, there.
Wifey knows the business her man is in, and she knows the look of the local mafia boys. She knows they aren’t here to fix the plumbing. She bravely decides to try bravado: “Why are you goons here, and what’s with the cowboy whips? Have you been watching the American western movies? Which of you guys is Buffalo, and which is Bill? Are you circus performers, maybe?”
What they ought to say, but do not: “No, Ma’am, we’re musicians.”
What they really say:
“Your husband thought he’d get clever, and stiff our boss for half a million Euros. We’re here to, ah, encourage him to pay up. Nothing personal, but you’re about to get one hell of a whipping.”
“You’re coming with us.”
“Stop struggling! You’ll only make this take longer and hurt worse.”
Soon our whip-happy villains have found a handy whipping tree.
Nothing furtive about this bit of collections work — everybody on the island knows what happens if you don’t pay off the grey old men. But just to make sure: “Yo! Are you watching! This is what happens to the families of men who don’t pay what they owe!”
“…and this is the bullwhip we are going to use to put big painful welts all over your pretty body, so that for the next few days, every time your husband sees you, he’ll remember his business obligations.”
“Of course, you understand, that dress has got to come off. Our employer gave very explicit instructions.”
Her sense of pride, and humor, have not failed her: “Is this going to hurt, very much?”
“Ah, yes. Yes, it is.”
“Quite a lot, actually…”
The men with whips take turns at first.
Then they try a sort of “good loanshark, bad loanshark” maneuver, where one guy whips while the other explains how she should advise her husband to pay his debts.
But, mostly, they just whip, and she suffers.
And do you know what the scariest part of today’s little immorality play is? Simply this: these have been the mild photographs from this photo set. These pictures are from Pain Gate, which as I’ve warned you before, is all about amazingly harsh whippings and livid whip welts. To be honest, they play harder at Pain Gate than I like to show on this blog; if I show too many boobies covered with bright red whip marks, I’ll jeopardize my reputation as a perfectly harmless mild-mannered erotic spanking fetishist. And we can’t have that, can we?
If by “you know what to do” you mean click on your links that all point to the front page of a pay site and not the content pictured then i guess we do. Otherwise no we do not know how to see any of the pictures we would like to.
Sure you do, Disgruntled. What you’re bitching about is that you don’t know how to do it for free.
Despite all the free samples I give away on behalf of spanking porn producers, I’m not horribly sympathetic to the folks who won’t pay for porn. It’s the classic “free rider” problem from economics. If nobody pays, who’ll make the porn?
Pay sites are the fuel that keeps this blog on the internet. Without them, I wouldn’t have pictures to show you and I wouldn’t have the money to pay for bandwidth. I won’t apologize for linking to them and I won’t apologize for making folks want to see what they’ve got.