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His wife Nikki’s pretty buns were right there in those stretchy tights, and he had his belt in his hand, and well… it just had to be done. He understood the assignment, he set up the camera, he did what he did, and yes, he said “sorry, babe” while he was doing it, but in truth he wasn’t even a tiny bit sorry.
At least she’s laughing!
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Here’s another “vanilla, only not” photo from the July 1979 Dutch porn magazine Lovely, starring a model who (we may imagine) has been sent to the back yard by her lover to prepare herself for a switching. Clearly she has not yet resolved her spirit to the seriousness of the trouble she is in with him:
On her side of the ledger, she is awfully cute. One suspects she has wiggled and wagged her pretty tail out of an awful lot of trouble in her life hitherto. Will today be the day that strategy stops working for her?
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A well-executed towel snap is deadly, and if you wind up properly while making small talk about lamb chops for dinner, she’ll never know it’s coming:
I do hope that man likes ghost peppers in his remoulade, however. Because fair is fair, and when you ambush the cook while she’s washing dishes, it creates a karmic imbalance that cries out for comic justice.
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Here’s another installment of “It’s not spanking porn, but it’s not exactly vanilla either” from the same 1970s British porn magazine as Sulking Ann from a couple of weeks ago:
The model posing so submissively and then kneeling for her punishment is said to be Jill Wildbore from “the little picture postcard village of Elmley Castle.”
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The play of emotions in this video as he shows his wife some paint stirrer sticks and she seductively inquires “are you going to hit me with them?” only to look crestfallen when he says “Absolutely not, it would be unethical, that’s not who I am.” In outrage: “What do you mean, that is who you are!” And then he saves the day and restores her spirits by offering to swat her with a pickleball paddle instead:
Spanking love, I tell you!
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Or if you do rage bait your dom, maybe remember to turn off your location?
The Tatted Brat recalls the time she made both of these mistakes:
I got another time where I rage baited the dom who trained me.
So one night I went out with my friends. I would basically rage bait him while I was out and it was just being playful.
So I’m ragging him. I’m doing this the whole night. So one point he just… I guess he got fed up with it. He’s like, “You do know that I have your location, right? Don’t make me come to where you are and we discuss this little attitude that you have.”
Why? Why did I say “I dare you?”
I didn’t get a response from that.
So 30 minutes go by and all I feel is a hand on the back of my neck.
And I hear somebody in my ear and they saying “Come on, let’s go outside and have a talk.”
I didn’t get to go back inside…
Ooopsie!
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From the style I think this meme is a TikTok screenshot escaped into the wild. Evidence, I think, that the young people don’t quite understand how the whole 1950s nuclear family concept was supposed to work:
But then again, how would they? The past is a foreign country, after all. Think about it: To a 25 year old today, 1955 is 45 year (almost two of their present lifetimes!) before they were born. 45 years before I was born, it was still the Flapper era, and the roaring Twenties hadn’t really gotten a good head of roaring up yet. Now or when I was 25, I’d have been hard pressed to joke around about family life in the 1920s; it was and it is now just too far in the past!
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