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What do you do if the three ladies who are supposed to be the stars of your fancy BDSM orgy event all cop an attitude at the same time and are insufficiently pleasing? No problem, just issue floggers to all the guests and have a mass ass-flogging!
Image credit: The Upper Floor.
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It looks like her master kept Ancilla_ksst pretty busy on Tuesday:
He gave me a hard paddling while bent over the kitchen counter, one that made me whimper and shift around, then grabbed me by the back of my neck and propelled me across the house. He threw me down over the arm of the couch and took me. I came hard several times as he gave the command to come.
Then back to the kitchen table, and on my knees again to take his slippery cock back in my mouth. My taste on him was pretty good.
Very soon he got behind me and fucked me again as I knelt on the floor holding on to the chair. It was very tight with the butt plug and he came quickly. I love the sound of his orgasm.
He took me upstairs right away, positioned me on the dresser and flogged me. That was a warm up. Then he brought out his belt. He whipped it out at me, wet towel style, and it stung like crazy at first, but in a short time the stings seemed farther away, a little dulled. I know I was falling into subspace. When he held me tight up against his chest and asked if I wanted a shower or a cuddle, I said “No” and “No”. I looked up at him with my spacey, wanton, hopeful, desirous smile.
“A good caning, then,” he said.
He turned on the radio and ordered me into bed.
They were playing some of our favorites from the 80s on the station he dialed. Good whacking music, most of them.
It was quite painful, but on some of those firm strokes I couldn’t help myself, and writhed in orgasm, without even receiving a command. The next time I got close he reminded me “Wait. wait. Wait.” and I was able to put off the feelings, subdue the orgasm until it was allowed.
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Here’s something fun: a bottom displaying the marks of both of the Impressions paddles, the one that says “slut” and the one with the heart-shaped cutouts:
Originally found on a Tumblr that’s not there any more.
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Here’s a spanking scene from the anonymous erotic novel Augustus and Lady Maude. When it begins, our narrator is watching through a peephole:
The Signore snatched a silk cord from the curtain and ran the cord round her wrists and tied her by it to the bedpost. There she knelt, or rather knelt over, the edge of the bed, her hands tied and able only to look round at him with a sudden fright in the slant of her enigmatic almond eyes. How busy he was with her now!
He knelt down behind the lewd shopgirl, just like a dog who sniffs a bitch. He kissed the coppery smoothness of her bottom-cheeks, her trim thighs, and even between her legs, much to the cost of his immaculately waxed whiskers. He gave her a hearty smack on the bottom and then another.
This excited him so much that he continued until Miss Jones wailed plaintively to know if she was to be spanked or ravished. “A little spanking, Car’,” he murmured, “A smack or two to make you lively! Do you want to go home, Car? Have you had enough, Carissima Jones?” With that he unbuttoned and mounted her. I do not suppose such lust can ever be a matter for true elegance, nor was it in this present case. He rode her in and out for several minutes, then withdrew, smacked her bottom a little, and rode her again.
“Untie my hands, then,” she murmured in her charming lilt.
The Signore merely chortled at the suggestion and gave another sharp smack on her coppery-toned bottom-cheeks as if to reprimand such sauciness. Miss Jones gave a little squeal, whether of discomfort or excitement, who can say? Perhaps it was a little of both.
Whatever the cause, it goaded the Signore to mount her with the resolve of a born rider astride the saddle. Taking her between the rear of her thighs, he was thus able to give his hands full freedom of fondling her breasts and belly, while his hairy loins tickled and prickled her backside. There is, alas, no scale of enthusiasm in these matters by whose Fahrenheit or Centigrade one may measure the thrill of desire. Yet our almond-eyed beauty writhed and whimpered in a manner which made such exact measurement unnecessary.
The Signore feasted his lips on the delicate whorls of her ears and the fine moulding of her neck. He bit her lightly on the shoulders and his fingernails raked the smooth gold flanks of her trim thighs. She, in turn, twisted her face round and the tight-lidded slant of her dark eyes begged kisses for her greedy lips. A series of sharp rising cries announced the approach of her climax while the Signore discharged his own passion into her loins with grunts and gasps far removed from the exquisite colour of his famous verses. They lay entwined on the dark blue-and-crimson of the Persian carpet, writhing and panting together a little in the moment of their supreme satisfaction. Presently there was another sharp smack on her bottom to prepare the randy little piece for an encore…
A word about the authorship of Augustus and Lady Maude: some web references call it a “Victorian” erotic novel and indeed it uses an epistolary frame as many such novels did. But as I read more of it (and there will be more excerpts seen here at Spanking Blog) I’m finding it too modern in tone to be plausibly Victorian. Specifically, I’m recognizing stylistic elements in common with books from Blue Moon in the 1980s, which appeared under names like Paul Little and Richard Manton. I suspect this story to be of late-20th-century authorship, having been deliberately crafted for sale as if it were written 80 or 100 years earlier.
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And how would you like to be spanked today?
Pretty sure this is Real Spankings from back in the day.
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