She looks to be settled in for a good long hard lap spanking. A lap spanking, for those of you to whom this is a new concept, is like a lap dance only you get to touch. Boy howdy, do you ever get to touch!
He should be happy, too — the view is very good. And she shouldn’t be complaining; if he weren’t spanking her, her alternatives (as a slavegirl-in-training) would seem to be much, much worse.
The story reports that a top French paper had published an illustration – sadly not reproduced – of a sheriff flogging an eighteen-year-old girl with a whip, whilst she was tied to the stocks in the main square of a Virginia town.
Nice find, Abel! Imaginary flogging though it was, it’s a nifty few column inches, and so I thought it was worth extracting from .pdf into a .jpg and transcribing in full:
VIRGINIA PEOPLE SLANDERED
An Imaginary Picture of the Flogging of a Girl Published by a French Journal
Washington, May 23 [1899] — An example of the manner in which anti-American prejudice is formed in some portions of Europe has been brought to the attention of the State Department in the issue of Le Petit Marseillais of Marseilles, France, of May 7.
This paper contains a full-page illustration in garish colors representing “A Girl Undergoing Punishment by the Whip in America.” The two prominent figures in the picture are the girl who is undergoing a public flogging and the Sheriff. The latter is a tall figure wearing a red shirt and black trousers, his right arm, with which he is wielding a cruel lash, bared to the elbow, while the girl stands with her arms in the stocks and body bare to the hips receiving the blows from the whip.
The chastisement is witnessed, apparently with enjoyment, by a miscellaneous assemblage of old men, young women, and little children, all well dressed, while a number of soldiers stand in the background to support the proceeding with the official authority of the United States Government. Explaining the illustration, Le Petit Marseillais says:
“In a country like America, where one is accustomed to find only progress and new discoveries, one is very much surprised to see a turn — backward — like punishment by the whip. This retrograde movement is performed in the State of Virginia, in which the Legislative Assembly has voted a law permitting the application of corporal chastisement in public.
“The first person upon whom this punishment has been inflicted is a girl eighteen years of age, who was whipped on the public square of Manassas. If one did not notice the modern dress of the crowd present at the scene, in the presence of the Sheriff and the representatives of the public force, he would have thought himself in the Middle Ages in seeing the unhappy girl naked to the waist, both hands held in a piece of plank, while the executor of the law acquitted himself conscientiously of his mission.”
It is only necessary to say that punishment by flogging is not authorized by the laws of Virginia, and that the illustration is purely imaginary.
All right, you kinky academic types. You’ve got a very precise citation: Le Petit Marseillais, May 7, 1899. Next time you’re in the sort of academic library with a rich collection of old French tabloid newspapers, dig that bad boy up. A microfilm print if you must, but if you can lay hands on a color photocopy (or a surreptitious digital photo, depending on the policies of your archive) of the “in garish colors” original, that would be much preferred. You get it, Spanking Blog will publish it.
I’m pretty sure this bondage spanking is not the treatment for which Our Heroine Jessie Cox gave her informed consent when she closed the exam room door today:
But as you can see, it’s just about the least of the kinky treatments she actually got in the Whipped Ass clinic:
That last procedure was apparently lacking in therapeutic result, so the evil nurses prescribed a caning for good measure.
It’s an art photo, on the photographer’s blog, so I have to send you there to see it. It’s called All the Candles In the World, by Aeric Meredith-Goujon.
Once I helped an old lady named Heron clean out the attic of her house, which she could no longer get into, having had hip replacement surgery. She had lived in the same house for all of her 86 years, so it was a treasure trove of stuff, nearly all of which ultimately got thrown out.
In one corner of the room, I found a pair of homemade wooden paddles leaning carefully against the wall, alongside a wicker chair. One of them was oval-shaped, and the other was long, broad, and thin and had been drilled through many times, minimizing its surface area so it would sting like a wasp. It exuded malice.
It was so easy to imagine little Heron, and her brothers and sisters, brought up into the attic when they’d been bad, and bent over their mother’s lap (her father had died when she was young) in that wicker chair, and counting out the terrible, whistling blows.
Or maybe not. Because right next to those paddles, I found a very early electric vibrator, a Fitzgerald Star, I think, in a felt-lined walnut case. So who knows….
Chross has made an excellent spanking clip from the 1929 movie Lucky Star. I’ll commend you to his site for full details and links for high-quality downloads; meanwhile, for as long as it lasts, I’m going to do a rare YouTube embed. This is good stuff! He’s a rough working man with hard hands and leather gloves, she (Janet Gaynor) gnaws and bites his leg when he puts her over his knee, harsh words (on title cards) are exchanged, and after the spanking she spends a lot of time rubbing her sore bottom while they both emote like hell:
Any staging or framing comments on my part would spoil the fun. This is an excerpt of something at Alison Tyler’s blog; you’ll be remiss (and missing out) if you don’t go read it:
I thought until the end—until nearly the last possible moment—that he was going to spank her. Not me. Her. He ought to have. She was bitchy, bratty. The kind of girl who never gives you the time of day unless other people are watching. You know the type. I know the type. I thought he understood.
I was a pet. A plaything. I was this couple’s toy—and he, well, he was my friend, wasn’t he? Not just the Top. The Dom, Mr. All That. He accepted the fact that she—ice princess, butter wouldn’t melt in her snatch—was lying.
How bold I was. In that too-short dove gray nightgown. No panties. Curled up on the couch while she talked about someone needing a spanking. And I thought, oh, lord help me, I actually thought, Hell, yeah. She does. And I was going to enjoy watching him punish her perfect, pristine, size two little ass. So when he sat down on the emerald leather couch next to me, when he started to stroke the huge, glossy, black, hard-backed hairbrush next to *me*—I was dumbfounded.
“You only use that on her,” I said, stuttered, begged, whispered. All the words, all the ways you could say those words. “I mean, you’re going to use that on her… Not…”
You’ve heard about the benefits of an exclusive education, right? Well, apparently these benefits include lots of swift and very public spankings in front of the whole class:
From Exclusive Education 5 at Clare Fonda’s Girl Spanks Girl spanking site. If you love lots and lots of spanked bottoms all in a row, this is the production for you.
It’s a squalid situation. The private investigator has compromising photos, and if she doesn’t want her husband to see them, she has to do all of the kinky things the PI wants. The least of these is the bondage caning…
This surprisingly modern-looking gagged spanking illustration is actually by Georges Töpfer, illustrating a vintage French erotic book called Visites fantastiques au pays du fouet by Aimé Van Rod:
To my eye, it looks very much in the modern style; when I first saw it, I thought it might be by somebody like Alazar. But no; the attribution is solid. It turns out ErosBlog published one of the other illustrations a couple of weeks ago, and managed to crowdsource an attribution to this wonderful post at Au carrefour étrange containing all of the illustrations from the book in glorious high resolution. Awesome.
This is from Grigbertz.com, which is full of all sorts of fun and erotic fantasy art. Apparently this is what happened when “Arna and Dea, posing as slave traders, ran afoul of local customs…”
So it was, sometime mid-day on Thursday, he was walking me down the road, with nothing but a singletail looped over his shoulder.
It’s surreal actually. You’re walking past people who see you, cuffed, blindfolded, being led on a rope by a big guy carrying a whip, and they’re casually carrying on everyday conversations as you pass. Not a single hiccup in their goings on. As if it’s perfectly normal to be discussing what’s for dinner while your neighbor is about to get whipped.
Anyway. To the bondage frames we marched. To the bondage frames I was attached.
He didn’t start light. He never does. The concept of warm up is lost on him, honestly. I suspect that he *thinks* he’s doing warm up. But… no. Not so much. At least not from my perspective, which is the only one that matters since I’m on the receiving end of the non-warm-up warm-up.
He likes to target the nipples with the singletail. It amuses him I think. Actually I think he takes pride in being able to concentrate on such a small target with such accuracy.
I? Am not amused.
On the rest of the body I don’t think he even tries to aim. He has no reason to. It’s an open and large canvas and he can randomly and messily throw the whip, letting it land where it may. No part is really off limits, except for the face, and even then if a snap catches me on the lip (which it did) then it’s likely because I made the mistake of dropping my head in a futile attempt to shield my nipples with my tongue or something (which I did).
There’s no apology for a misplaced stroke because there ARE no misplaced strokes. That’s the beauty of nothing being off-limits, see.
The thing that gets me about how he uses the singletail is the speed and the circling. I’d bet he gets a stroke in at least one per second. Maybe more. It’s FAST. Or feels that way on my end anyway. And he circles me. Snapping. Over and over and over. Until I think I’m going to die.
At least until I scream. And beg. And kick.
I pulled out of one of the cuffs in a desperate attempt to cover my nipples after several minutes of targeting them.
I really just think I’m going to go crazy, you know? It’s not even that each stroke by itself is so painful that I can’t stand it. It’s the repetitive, fast barrage of them that drives me over the edge. I think I must cry out to “Slow down!” a million times during a whipping scene.
A vicious prune-faced nun. (Well, she looks mean, what you can see of her after the spurious privacy box got stamped over her face.) Two bare-bottomed schoolgirls standing on a bench in the moist outdoor air, waiting for their punishment with asses high in the air. More girls, standing by to witness the scene, possibly waiting their turn.
What’s not to like?
I don’t have much source on this picture. If you click through there’s a defunct Japanese URL on the larger version. It came to me via Usenet (specifically alt. binaries. pictures. erotica. asian) so not much help there.
I hate to think how many years ago they published Janus #16 (what are they up to now, #167?) but to me, photo stories like The Wedding exemplify the best attributes of the British spanking magazine genre. The story itself is simple, almost spare; the photography is neither explicit nor particularly brutal. But together, the result is (in my opinion, although I know I’m turning into one of those old fogies who is rapidly being left behind in an age when all the cool young people are wanking to tubes full of free movies of people whipping to the blood, spitting on each other, and gagging on cocks) highly erotic.
It starts out so simply:
‘I’m sure it will be much better for waiting for it – and far purer,’ Louise had frequently prattled, bless her, referring to what she saw as his obsession with getting into her knickers. But now, at last, he was about to collect.
‘Now, you did promise to love, honour and obey me,’ he said.
‘Yes, John, of course I did,’ she answered in a minute voice.
‘And were you telling the truth?’
‘Of course I was, darling. You simply don’t know how much I love you.’
He might have said, ‘I’m about to find out,’ but he confined himself to: ‘Good. Now I’m going to test your obedience. And prove to you that in our marriage I am the boss.’
He reinforced this theme with a much harder slap covering both her slender posteriors. Louise jerked, but not as much as she did the next five or six times his hard palm fell. Another thing John didn’t tell her was that he intended to punish her for frustrating him through the long months of their courtship and engagement.
…
He ordered her to remove her shoes and bridal veil beside the opulent double bed, and while her back was turned he took out a thin, crook-handled notched bamboo cane from a suitcase. Louise’s pleading when she saw it was pointless. John commanded her to lie prone on the bed. As she obeyed him the fear in her face was unmistakable. And totally arousing to see.
‘Now darling, brace yourself,’ her master said. ‘The cane isn’t like that little toy strap. It really hurts.’
And with that, he whipped the cane down viciously across her utterly charming derriere. As the rod bit into her flesh a flame of agony lit up her senses and she moaned. A second stroke slashed across her bottom, applied with a cruelty that promised an interesting little punishment to come.
She was sobbing, crying and pleading by the time the next stroke fell, and her buttocks were churning and her body writhing like a girl having sex. In protest she raised one hand to stop him and half slithered off one side of the bed.
‘Oh, I feel so immodest!” she said. ‘And it stings so much!‘
So John allowed her to put on her bridal veil, but that was all…
Bondage Blog says her pussy will never be the same after this interrogation. I myself have much greater faith in the ability of soft and tender female parts to take a lickin’ and keep on tickin’, but I have to agree with this much: it’s going to be a long afternoon for Our Heroine.
So it’s welts you like to see? OK, big juicy and lovingly-drawn welts, this girl has. Also, she’s chained, gagged, plugged, vibrated, and stuffed in a bug-infested dungeon. You might say, she’s having a bad week. Or, possibly, a good week, depending on just what kind of kinky girl she is and how she’s wired:
Found here with the credit “Artist appears to be Zenith Lee.”
If you study how carefully this unfortunate girl’s legs are laced to the bondage uprights, there’s only one possible conclusion. She’s in for some bastinado. “Mr. Cane, meet Mr. Feet.” Unless she’s very contrite and her master very merciful, she’s going to be crawling everywhere for a few days:
If you had a switch in your hand … and in this situation, you would … you’d never be able to resist pulling those panties just a bit further down and turning that cute pasty-white bottom quite creditably red:
Click for a much bigger view. Image credit is Whipped Ass.
If you can’t trust Rhonda on your Trivial Pursuit team, who can you trust? Nobody, apparently. Cheryl from Positively Spanking tells about a spanking she got from Captain Hook (would I make this up?):
In December, 1985, I turned 25 years old. I went to a New Year’s Eve party given by some friends I bowled with. When we were bowling that Saturday, we were bowling against a pretty good team. On the team was a married couple named Ben and Norma. Ben was a big left hander who had the nickname Captain Hook because of the way his ball broke when he threw it. He had the biggest hook I’d ever seen. Anyway, they mentioned to me that another couple we bowled with, Jeanette and Dennis, were having a party on New Year’s Eve. “Oh, it’s my birthday. Sure, I’ll go.”
As soon as Ben heard it was my birthday, he began to taunt me. He said, when I came back from bowling a strike (my forth in a row) he said “I’m going to put you over my knee and spank you in front of everyone.” “Sure you are, Ben,” I laughed. I noticed that Norma, his wife, didn’t like this talk. “He’ll get drunk and forget,” she assured me. Oh, I hoped not.
Anyway, the night of the party came and I got dressed with care, deciding to wear a pair of gray snakeskin pumps I’d been saving for a special occasion.We’d been eating a lot and drinking a fair amount when someone suggested a game of Trivial Pursuit, still all the rage then. I belonged to a group that played regularly so I was all for it. We played guys against the girls. It was a spirited game and we took it very seriously. However, no one wanted to see the evening disintegrated because of a silly game so we decided there would be no bragging or rubbing it in from the winning team. So a compromise was reached. Dennis, Jeanette’s husband, suggested that if the ladies’ team lost, the captain of the team (me) would get a spanking by the captain of the other team (Ben). “I already promised her one coz it’s her birthday,” Ben said. “She’ll get spanked either way.”
The other ladies–Jeanette, Norma and my friend Rhonda–protested. What if the guys lost? “Yeah, think you can handle getting a spanking, Ben?” I asked. No way. The spanking was only for the ladies. If the guys lost? “We’ll do the dishes,” Dennis volunteered. There was a mountain of them in the kitchen, so of course, the bet was on.
Well, it went down to the last question and we lost. It’s been 25 years and I still think that Rhonda missed that question on purpose. Who doesn’t know that Eli Whitney invented the cotton gin? But I was a good sport. I settled myself over Ben’s ample lap and he counted out 25 pretty good spanks, plus one for good luck. I had on gray pantie hose under the winter white slacks I was wearing but I still felt it. So did Ben. “You have the hardest ass I’ve ever felt,” he said. “Yeah, my dad said the same thing,” I shrugged. “Must be all that horseback riding.”
Anyway, that was the last spanking I got for a long time. I remember Norma was sort of looking on with a jealous expression the whole time her husband was spanking me. He was obviously enjoying it. I was 25, young and firm.
Dilemmas are always fun. This one is from a caning story called Another Of Mr Morgan’s Funny Ideas, originally appearing in Roue 13 but found here:
“Come along my girl -” The fingertip coaxed the panting girl back into position, and slid down under the swell of her mound.
“Oooo – ooooh -”
Another stroke, not too hard.
“Come on Violet – there’s a good girl.”
Swhit – swhit – swhit.
Violet’s bum swerved away, the fingers edged her back again. The cane stung once more. Violet squirmed and gasped and snatched forward away from the cane – onto the fingers. She pulled away from the intrusion – her bum thrust itself backwards.
Thwitt!
She jolted forward again.
“Oooo – oooo – s-sir – I”
“That’s a good girl -”
Violet wriggled back, bottom pleading for another one. Whack!
“Ooow! Ooooh -”
Slowly she learned. If she squirmed back away from the fingers her bum couldn’t help but thrust itself out – for the cane. The more she stuck it out, the harder it got caned. The thing was not to stick it out. If she resisted the urge to slide backwards away from the fingers – well, she still got caned. But not so hard. Enough to make her wriggle. To squirm a bit. Slowly she caught on to that too. The cane flicked – not too hard. Violet wriggled. The cane hovered. Violet stopped squirming. Swhitt! Another stroke.
Violet wriggled quite a lot!
A few tears were inevitable. The eventual outcome was inevitable. Buckling at the knees, hips snatching back and forth as her toasted bum got another half-dozen swishes for good measure, Violet shuddered to the peak of her very first orgasm at the instigation of a man.
The first is a reference to ‘chasing the maiden’. Apparently a bride-to-be was chased by her jealous unmarried friends and when caught was stripped and thrown to the ground and whipped with ‘apple switches’ on her bare bottom to make her fruitful. ‘Nor was this done in jest and a maiden could expect more than cats scratches upon her posteriors afterwards. Also it must be said, she was scarce likely to behold a pew come Sunday.’
Another was an alleged New England custom dating to the 17th century. Before her nuptials it was said that a maiden would be taken into the orchard (another pagan fertility connection perhaps) and made to bare her bottom and bend over a fence rail. Then she was whipped across the bare bottom with a rod or a switch.
This was done slowly and with force. The more strokes she could accept before ‘begging off’ was supposed to indicate how many years of happiness she would have when married.
A variant on this was the more strokes the more healthy children.
Erica Scott, who has been around the spanko scene for longer than politeness permits one to detail in the case of a lady, has (I discover thanks to Chross’s good offices) a new blog; upon which I have discovered photographic proof that she is, indeed, a hardass when it comes to taking a caning:
That cane never stood a chance, I tell ya! She explains that she was at a spanking get-together when:
After dinner, suite party time! Matt opened his room to us, so several of us convened there and it was quite the lively time. I sat at the bar chatting with several people, then Sophie got it in her head that Danny should give me another spanking. “Oh, you think so, huh?” I said. She did. I don’t remember who said what after that, but sure enough, there was Danny, yanking me off the barstool and pulling me over to the couch, where he bent me over the back. He had several new toys he’d purchased at the vendor fair, including a cane with bright shiny red material wrapped around the handle (he called it the “Judy Garland cane,” because the red stuff looked like Dorothy’s ruby slippers in Wizard of Oz).
No warmup this time; he got right down to business with the implements. And it wasn’t enough to just lift my skirt; oh no. He had to take the damn thing off. We made it quite the raucous scene and people were watching and throwing out comments. Then he gave me the first strike with his new cane, a hard one. The tip flew off. Another strike, and another piece broke off. And again, and again. All in all, five pieces snapped off and flew in all directions.
Some of you long-time readers know that my girl Bethie runs the Spankfinder.com free spanking personals site — which I will say, even if she is too modest, is turning into the best damn spanking personals site on the internet. She’s up to more than 5,800 active members now (and active members are all she has, because not being a pay site, she’s got no incentive to inflate her numbers by failing to prune all the dead profiles … so she does) with active forums and chat and dozens of new members every week.
What I don’t think most people realize is just how many unpaid hours she puts into the job. The software she’s using is not perfectly user-friendly, so lots of people email her asking for help with it; she spends hours every week on those emails, plus more hours sending too-polite answers (IMO) to the complaints she gets from people who don’t like her policies. On top of that she has to weed out the people who break her rules (mostly members who are too young, or pretend to be; or folks who are selling something, including their bodies.) It’s a big time commitment, which she has been putting in now for years, just because it’s something the internet needs, and none of the commercial dating sites are very well geared for spanking people.
Well, I’m pleased to announce that yesterday Bethie finally put up a PayPal donation button, which you can find if you go and visit Spankfinder. She’s still committed to keeping the site 100% free, but now, finally, if you want to express your appreciation in a tangible way, it’s possible:
Donation button
Sep 09, 2010
As you all know SpankFinder is a service I provide for my fellow spankos free of charge and I have absolutely no plans to ever change that. Over time though as more and more people have been fortunate enough to find spanking partners, friends, and love through SF, many have offered to help with the expenses so I’ve recently decided to include a donation button for anyone who’s feeling generous.
Any and all donations will be greatly appreciated.
Getting spanked is erotic? Duh, you knew that. You’re here, aintcha? And it’s right in the blog subtitle.
But over the years, there’s been a ton of BDSM porn that treats spanking as a thing done unto others, for the sole pleasure of the sadist doing the spanking. That makes the frankness of this book cover something of a treat:
Update: This scan has been all over the place lately, but I think Zille may have been the one who actually put it on the internetz.
Usenet ain’t what it used to be these days (damn these kids with their tubes and tumblrs and torrents and newfangled ways of hiding porn from their tech-challenged elders!) but for some reason, alt. binaries. pictures. erotica. vintage mostly still is chugging along as strong as ever — probably because the vintage porn audience is more conservative about changing its “sources and methods”. That works for me, because it means I can still find gems like this little vintage caning and whipping photo sequence:
Erectus says this is a scene from the 1968 movie The Headmistress. If I am reading IMDB right, this is probably the actress Julia Blackburn getting whipped:
I’m torn about this post because sometime in the last couple of years, about half of my favorite sex blogs tore themselves apart doing boring sex toy post after boring sex toy post. So, I try to keep the toy posts and links to a minimum, even though they do help pay the server bills. And since I just linked to The Stockroom last week, I wasn’t planning to do so again right away.
But then they rolled out another one of their big sales, this one in celebration of San Francisco’s Folsom Street Fair. And in these recessionary times, who can afford not to at least check out the sale, to see if there are discounts on toys you’ve been lusting after?
This sale is a big one, covering lots of items, but three heavily discounted items in particular caught my eye; two old Spanking Blog favorites and one item that looks like it ought to be, though I’ve never actually had my hands on it.
This was the first cane Bethie and I ever played with, so as you can imagine, we still recommend it fairly highly. If you get the small one, it’s quite mild by cane standards, also.
Next, another old friend: a comfy black spandex hood for girls (and boys if you play that way) who insist on peeking when they shouldn’t.
I recommended them here before (during a different sale) and wrote:
They just slip on like a ski mask, no messing with buckles and straps and no worries about collar tightness at the neck, and you can breath through them just fine, so no worries there; plus they come off instantly if the hoodee panics when you aren’t wanting that. They look nifty, especially if your girl has been trying to control you with pouting and remonstrative looks. But, best of all from my spanker perspective, they are utterly effective as blindfolds, with no peeking possible. No more will she get away with cheating at your game of “guess the instrument”! I love these things, end of story.
Last, the item that I haven’t actually seen or handled, but which looks like it would become a swift favorite: the Daddy’s Belt slapper toy.
The description reads:
Show them who’s the daddy with this JT’s Stockroom original design.
A clever twist on the classic punishment belt, this slapper has a traditional belt buckle and loop, and 14 steel rivets holding a looped strap together as a handle. The strap makes a fear-inducing snap, when grabbed at both ends and quickly straightened. The strap is 1½” wide, and 17″ long in a loop.
As always, the biggest reason I’m so happy to recommend stuff from The Stockroom is that I’ve got had a long and happy personal history with them dating back into the 1990s: quality merchandise, good service, and lightning-fast, accurate order fulfillment.
