What’s really going through her mind during a spanking? In most cases, it’s hard to know. But MynxGrrl has provided a handy translation guide. Its general applicability is uncertain, but with good data like this, progress in the field can be made:
What you see: Lots of squirming and maybe even my trying to worm away and off your lap.
What I’m thinking: Grab me tighter!What you hear: Ow, ow, please stop!
What I’m thinking: Ow, mmm, ow, please don’t stop!!!What you do: Hook a finger in the waistband of my knickers.
What I say: Noooooooooooooo! Please don’t!
What I mean: Fuck, I hope I didn’t soak through them. I hope there is no visible wetness. That’s even more embarrassing *cunt twitch*
Anybody who’s ever paid for a membership in a gym knows how they take your money. They sign you up for a nice long membership when your intentions are good, and then they bill you every month whether you ever show up at their facility, or not. And you, despite your best intentions, eventually (sooner or later, and too often it’s “sooner”) encounter complications … because what is life without a swarm of besetting complications? And before you know it, you’re paying a fat bill every month for … nothing. And most people keep paying out of guilt, because they “mean to” get back to it. They take personal responsibility for the economic loss, and don’t think to blame the folks who deliberately set up a business model that’s designed around preying on the complexities and setbacks of modern life.
No matter. I think @eltercerojo has hit upon a way to make this model work for her:
At my request (dear god!) so I stop wasting $49pm, @paulatnorthgare has promised me 49 cane strokes any week I don’t get to the gym 3X.
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…to keep a girl quiet during her riding crop spanking! As Pandora Blake knows:
She took them very well, kneeling with bottom nicely presented while she gripped the headboard of my bed. I enjoy her reactions – not a lot of noise and fuss, but some lovely wriggling and grimacing as she processes the pain. As we were on about number four, D knocked on the bedroom door and ended up watching me give the final two.
Afterwards I had the pleasure of seeing her take her jeans down and reveal the results of my labours. The stripes were lovely – as was the confidence boost of knowing I’d judged the strength about right even through her jeans.
I invited D to take over, but he had other ideas… which kept Jacq’s mouth full and left her bottom available to me. I wasn’t complaining. I took the opportunity to distract her in several ways, one of which involved swapping to the heavier crop.
If you’ve ever been on the wrong side of a rapidly-advancing wildfire, you’ll know that
Old Smokey, though, he understands!

Cropped from a cartoon by Wolfie.
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Another recent Usenet find:
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