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Our miss with the floral bathing suit and the generous bottom can be heard saying faintly “I thought it was electric” right before she presses her butt against the hot wire and grabs it firmly with both hands:
Her subsequent scream of “It is electric!” and the little dance she does are no less fun for being predictable.
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From a May 1969 issue of Bob Anthony’s Beefcake! magazine, we meet two rather kinky gentlemen who are described simply as roommates:
Their relationship seems closer than mere roommates to me, but what do I know?
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Some while back, I got an email from a somewhat smug-sounding gentleman who wanted to share with me his brilliant new sadistic idea that he had come up with and tested out on his long-suffering submissive wife. I won’t quote the mail — I’m being too sarcastic about it here to do that — but the gist of his story was that his BDSM relationship is, as these things usually are, a little bit complicated. He and his wife have a relationship that is at once a domestic discipline relationship (in which spankings can be a punishment for her) and a sadomasochistic relationship (in which the spankings are often pleasurable for both parties). His novel idea (here I am being sarcastic again, but he certainly thought it was novel) was that if he gave his wife a number of powerful orgasms before he spanked her, he could remove the pleasure element from the spanking itself, making it much stronger punishment. According to his account, this procure was extremely successful, in that it took his wife by surprise, it horrified her, and it greatly intensified the effectiveness (from his perspective anyway) of her punishment.
What I did not have the heart to tell this fellow is that, due the relative simplicity of male sexual response, the procedure he invented for punishing his wife is at least twice as effective when deployed against a male submissive. A man who can sexualize and absorb simply astonishing amounts of pain while his pecker is hard will often turn into a mewling wimp the instant he’s had an orgasm and his sexual excitement and anticipation has deflated. A man who goes to see a professional dominatrix to be caned, who arrives with his dick hard, will probably soak up a pretty damned serious caning, whether or not the professional he is seeing is going to help him do anything about the hard dick afterward or not. (Some do, some don’t, some will, some won’t — or so I hear. I expect it depends on the jurisdiction, the price, the professional in question, and other factors.)
On the other hand, if that same professional hands him a pocket-pussy style male-masturbation toy and runs a little “you don’t deserve to have that dick touch a woman’s pussy” humiliation scene with him until he cums in front of her, and only then does she start caning his ass, he’ll probably be astonished by (a) how much worse the caning will seem to hurt; (b) how much less of it he can take before he has to safeword out; and (c) how much less erotic charge it holds for him in general.
I don’t gather that professional femdom types run scenes like this very often, as it runs rather contrary to the fundamental premise of giving the client what they want, which is erotic pleasure. (Although kinks vary enough that exceptions exist, which is how I’ve heard of this happening at all.) On the other hand, “lifestyle femdom” is a real thing, and when Mistress wants to please Herself rather than the man with the wallet, suddenly the horse has a very different color. Now suddenly she’s in the position of the smug-sounding gentleman with whose mail I introduced this post. Instead of trying to cane through the cast-iron butt cheeks of some lust-crazed male submissive until she can get him into a receptive place where her corrective punishments will even be noticed, this notion of giving him (or making him give himself) an orgasm or two so that his mind will be clear and her punishments will register suddenly begins to seem useful.
Don’t worry, gents, Spanking Blog is not turning into a femdom blog. I’m not a “sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander” kind of guy, and I never have been. But when somebody writes in with a brilliant “new idea” for spanking punishments, one that works at least twice as well for distaff dominants? You know I’m going to say so.
Kids these days (by which sardonic phrase I intend to reference everybody who has grown up with the internet in their life) might reasonably wonder: why are there so many references to peeping Toms in vintage pop culture? They are everywhere, especially in cartoonery as a risible figure. What the heck was up with that?
I’m not saying we don’t have voyeurs in 2021; we manifestly do, and every so often some sad dude gets arrested for hiding a camera in a locker room. But it’s in the nature of a rare perversion these days, whereas (if we trust the magazine gags and comic postcards) it was common behavior, with a heavy degree of “boys will be boys” social resignation about the phenomenon.
Go back 120 years, and porn was mostly underground, rare, expensive, a privilege of the rich. Even after porn magazines became more common, they often weren’t casually available outside urban centers. If you weren’t married or paying a sex worker, the sight of naked flesh “in the flesh” was usually unobtainable. Is it any wonder that horny dudes were alert for opportunities to peep through keyholes, binoculars, undraped bedroom windows, unguarded doorways, and cracks in privacy fences?
It’s different these days. There’s a lot more skin to be seen on a warm summer street or a busy beach than there used to be. And porn is ubiquitous on a screen that fits in your pocket. Honestly speaking, there’s no need to risk retaliatory violence, social censure, or criminal sanctions by lurking in the azaleas under some woman’s windowpane.
But oh! How it used to be different. I can’t say whether unwelcome horndogs snooping around beachside changing tents were a genuine social reality or just a social obsession of the times, but either way, we have endless examples of them recorded in comic artwork. Sometimes, we see them just chilling and enjoying the view. But much more often, they being kicked around by their enraged victims, thumped with a parasol by an angry spouse, hauled away by the beach police, or even booted off a rock into the sea by a random passer-by.
At least in the popular imagination of the day, public punishment of peeping Toms was necessary, appropriate, expected, and above all, funny! And yet voyeurism apparently persisted, which is perhaps a sign of the general level of sexual frustration and desperation in the pre-porn era.
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When Ethan gets bored shopping for antiques with his wife Hanna, he finds ways to put a little excitement into his day, mostly by getting her riled up. A smack with an antique yardstick always does the trick:
She’s cute when she’s mad!
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No doubt pillow princesses have always been with us, and sometimes? They do need discipline:
This is another one of those faux-BDSM photos from an otherwise not-very-kinky porn magazine. I found it in a 1970 issue of the Dutch magazine Chick. Perhaps I shouldn’t call it a faux-BDSM photo, but it lacks BDSM context, at least; there aren’t any other photos from the shoot, and the whip is a prop. Nobody gets whipped, there aren’t any marks… you can see what I mean.
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Dale has a new collapsible fiberglass fishing pole and when he asks his wife for permission to test it out on her ass, she very cheerfully invites him to go for it, and instructs herself to assume the position!
She’s his dream spouse, and he knows it…
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