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I can’t say for sure that these five bottoms are posed for a big spanking party in this vintage photo, but you’ve got to agree that it’s the likeliest way to bet:
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I am not currently a member at Realspankings.com so I am forced back on my imagination to explain this paddling scene. I imagine that these two dusky beauties skipped out on class in favor of an afternoon at the mall. Hot Topic and movie popcorn for the win! But for that kind of fun, there’s a price to pay, and these two paddled truants weren’t expecting their stolen afternoon of fun would be quite this expensive in ass pain:
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I’m not sure what this poor woman on the floor ever did to piss off The Avengers but they seem to have sent one of their trademark skin-tight black-bodysuit operatives, and boy is she angry!
Artwork from Kitan Club.
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When you’re a Bad Tenant, behind on your rent and no way to pay it, trying to steal cash from your landlord is probably a poor idea. Certainly, it’s not working out well for Cadence Lux today:
Photo is from a Sex And Submission shoot for members of Kink Unlimited.
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He’s got a vicious-looking knotted-rope flogger but her smooth bottom suggests he hasn’t used it yet. I’m guessing he just likes to wave the whip around as a form of foreplay. Because the way his dick is jutting, I don’t think he’s going to actually flog her butt today. I doubt he has the willpower to defer the kinky sex any longer:
Art by Chibiabos.
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“A wooden spoon spanking” she thought. “How bad could it be?” And thus Ambriel’s education in sadness and pain began:
Photo is from Real Spankings.
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In The Captive Flesh, a Black Lace erotic novel by Cleo Cordell, Marietta has been lured by trick into Kasim’s harem. Kasim charged slave Leyla with Marietta’s preparation and training as a harem slave. And so far, Marietta has tried to be cooperative, to spare Leyla undue punishment. But she balked when Leyla tried to remove her pubic hair, and now Kasim has arrived in the harem to dispense what he sees as a necessary harem spanking:
‘You may keep your golden fleece. The novelty of it pleases me,’ he said pleasantly. ‘I should like for it to be oiled and decorated. And it is to remain prominently on display at all times. Leyla. I wish Marietta to wear clothes that leave bare or enhance this unique treasure of hers.’
‘As you, wish, my lord,’ Leyla said.
‘It is settled then. But you are to be chastised nonetheless, Marietta. Do you know why?’
Numbly she shook her head. She was close to tears.
‘I alone make all decisions concerning your person. You keep your fleece, because I wish it. Understand? But you will still be punished for refusing to be depilated. Now. Stay as you are. Accept your punishment.’
Marietta remembered his words to her in the garden, ‘There is never any way to avoid my will,’ he had said to her.
Now she was to have evidence of that. Using the flat of his hand, Kasim began to slap Marietta on the insides of her thighs. He flicked his hand back and forth, so that the backs and then the fronts of his fingers struck her in turn. He placed the slaps lightly at first. The sound of his hand hitting her flesh was clean and crisp. He applied the slaps with increasing strength.
The shock of it, more than the pain, stole Marietta’s breath. She had never been beaten in her life, and for it to be before an audience was doubly shaming. Leyla, Claudine, and all the slaves were watching. She bowed her head before the disgrace of it.
Let it be over soon. She did not think she could bear it. She realised that it had been inevitable. But at least Leyla had not been punished. She flinched at each stinging double-stroke. The pain increased as her skin grew sore, but still he slapped her. Her thighs began to feel warm. The marks of Kasim’s fingers were plain on the white skin.
He paused. She thought it was over. Her inner thighs felt hot as a furnace. The soreness was fading already, leaving only a deep flush on her skin. It had not been so bad.
This time only, your breasts will be spared. Turn onto your belly,’ Kasim ordered.
Unable to stop herself giving a sob of dismay, she obeyed. At least she could hide from all those eyes and close her legs. She felt a moment’s relief as she stretched out. The skin of her inner thighs stung and tingled. She hardly had time to concentrate on the discomfort, or to catch her breath.
Kasim began to spank her buttocks with loud, deliberate, slaps. She gave a sob of renewed distress, squirming under his hand, pressing her belly into the divan. The cool silk caressed her as she bucked and twisted unable to escape the stinging slaps.
Her bottom grew hot, the skin glowed and smarted, and still he smacked her. Then, unbelievably, through the pain she began to feel a sort of spiked pleasure. When he spread her buttocks and began spanking the inner surfaces of the cheeks she made a convulsive movement. There seemed to be a building of pressure within her. Her erect little nub, wakened by Kasim’s touch earlier, began pulsing. Kasim smacked the abused little bottom-mouth now. Her throat felt raw, with holding in her moans. She bit her lips afraid that any sound, if it escaped, would be a groan of pleasure-pain.
It was the dream, all over again. Her flesh was being led unwillingly into further realms of passion. She hated that he knew this, that he somehow perceived how she hungered for the strokes of his hand.
It was punishment indeed to be shown what she was.
She began to sob aloud as he proceeded. He smacked her past soreness, past the time when she could catch her breath between slaps. A riot of warm pain suffused her from the waist down. It seemed to go on and on…