Sad Slavic Slavegirl, Punished
Via Kinky Delight:
It’s not credited, but I’m pretty sure it’s from the defunct site Russian Discipline.
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Spanking Blog: Adult Erotic Spanking At Its Best
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She Just Saw The Cane
That half-appalled, half-horrified look on her face? That’s the look of a woman who didn’t have any idea that this bondage session was going to involve a vigorous breast caning. That’s the look of a woman who just saw one or more canes coming out of a toybag. That’s the look of a woman who just realized why her breasts are tied the way they are tied:
Photo credit: Hard Tied.
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A Revolutionary Whipping
The caption reads (machine translation):
Théroigne de Méricourt is whipped by the women
Colored copper engraving from 1800
Per Wikipedia, this scene would appear to depict a sort of rough political argument from the French revolutionary period. It is said that Théroigne de Méricourt was delivering a speech in May of 1793 when she was attacked by a group of women allied with the Jacobins. The women, objecting to her pro-Girondin sentiments, stripped her naked and beat her severely.
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The Algebra Lesson
This young lady got summoned to account to her tutor for her profound lack of comprehension in the field of algebra. Truth to tell, her lack of comprehension follows directly upon her lack of effort and study. Today, she thought she might profitably distract her tutor from these lacks. But I do not think it is going to work out that way for her. Do y’all see the cane hanging from his coat rack at the right edge of the frame?
Photo is from Cum Perfection.
Purple Heart Crop
If you’re tired of “red red red” as a Valentines signifier this year, you might prefer the more-subtle BSM symbolism of the Purple Heart slapper crop:
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Two Kinds Of Spankings
What follows is an excerpt from a conversation Girl On The Net had with her fellow (and with her blog readers) as she was attempting to more carefully specify the parameters of her spanking kink. She identifies two different kinds of spankings, each of which I know to be popular with sometimes-but-not-always-different factions of my Spanking Blog readership:
At that moment what I’m hoping for isn’t one sharp stroke. I’m not anticipating a measured, precise stripe across my backside. But usually that’s what I get. One stripe – carefully applied – then the inevitable order:
“Count them.”
And I count. One, two, three, four… I count the strokes and I thank him for each one. This controlled, dominant guy, who will dish out exactly as much pain as I deserve and no more.
That’s nice – it is. But it’s not the best.
The best – what I’m hoping for – is a loss of control. I’m looking for him not to deal out punishment like it’s medicine, and he’s the careful pharmacist weighing the exact number of pills. I want punishment that comes only because it pleases him to do it. A beating powered not by his judgment but by his rage.
“Get the fuck over and pull down those knickers.” Voice cracking slightly because he’s so angry, then later trembling more because the sight of my exposed cunt makes him want to do more than beat me. He slips the belt out through the loops of his trousers and folds it quickly in half, then half again – a short, thick, leather strap with which to smack me.
One, two, three, four, five, six… they fall in a blur. There’s no time to count, and I can’t get a word in because with each stroke he’s telling me more about how I’m a dirty girl, and why I deserve this. Why he loves this.
In the latter scenario, he’s not ‘done’ when I’m suitably punished, he’s only ‘done’ when he’s satisfied. When he’s beaten me hard enough to make his prick throb, and fucked me good and hard while I grip on tight to my calves and focus on the dual pleasures of staying upright and coming round his dick.
I explain this to him – this difference. The difference between pain as punishment – the way it might be meted out if I were a naughty schoolgirl and he a headmaster giving me six of the best – and pain as sexual brutality. In the latter I’m not being punished because I deserve it but because he needs it – he can’t get hard unless he sees my arse glowing red from the stripes, hears the thwack of leather on taut skin. Hears me squeal. Watches my cunt get wet from it.
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Military Caning Art
I wish I knew the source of this public military punishment scene:
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