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Meet Cassandra Calogera and Sierra Skye:
Don’t they look like they are plotting mischief? I certainly think so.
Indeed, before we are done with them, it may prove necessary to tie them in a compromising position and cane their pussies.
Yes. Yes, it may.
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Miss Pink writes about her spanko history, and in the process reminds me about the callowness of youth. Boys are such chickens. To get such offers, and do nothing! And yet, I can’t mock them; despite the myths of testosterone, I think most young men encounter sexually charged situations they don’t know how to handle. They pause, they quail, they balk, they do nothing; and if they are smart, twenty-five years later they are still kicking themselves in the ass and thinking “Dude, you idiot!”
My freshman year of college I confessed to my long-term boyfriend my need to be dominated. I didn’t use that word, though. My specific words were, “locked in a room without any clothing and made to do whatever you tell me to”.
I didn’t mention spanking, but that was at the center of my fantasy and a word I just could not say. I felt ashamed at my desire for him to spank me; I could not afford his mockery.
He did not lock me in a room and use me as I’d offered; he did not spank me.
While lying naked in bed with another boyfriend, I would turn onto my stomach and lift the sheet with my feet, exposing my bare bottom in temptation. When he’d cup the cheeks, my breath would catch and I would yearn for him to do it, to spank me. He never did.
Just in case you missed it at Bethie’s blog, she explains in detail how she makes sure to get a spanking when she wants one. It’s illustrated:
This is from a story in Februs 13, illustrated by Paula Meadows:
‘I think something a little more severe than spanking is called for,’ I told her. Leaving Sue in her humbling position I went to the wardrobe where, hanging on the inside of the door, was a collection of belts. I selected my favourite for corrective purposes, an unadorned black strip of thin, supple Italian leather. Holding the buckle in my palm I wrapped the leather twice about my hand, then flicked my wrist with a practised motion. The belt cracked satisfyingly in thin air.
An apprehensive moan returned my attention to Sue, uncertainly awaiting my attentions. My eyes drank in her full, womanly curves, the lush expanse of tender flesh offered up to my mercy. I heard her shallow, panting breath and could see, between the splay of her magnificent thighs, the rise and fall of her dangling breasts.
‘How many?’ she asked meekly when I resumed my position at her side.
‘Enough to elicit true contrition,’ I replied, and drew back my arm.
The whippy leather landed with a sharp report on the fullest curve of her near bottom-cheek, the tip licking into her split crevice. An anguished wail tore from Sue’s throat and she began to raise her hand to her abused buttock.
‘Hold still!’ I rapped, and at the sound of my displeasure her hand shot back to its correct place. I tanned her cheek methodically, clinically, laying each stripe a little higher until I reached the point where her buttocks tapered into the small of her back. Returning to the mid-point, the lashes descending the quivering globe, my aim carefully avoiding her plump, out-thrust sex, onto her upper thigh, where I allowed a greater length to sear her skin, curling around and onto the front of her leg.
Each lash elicited a barking cry of anguish from Sue, and when I stepped to her other side and began to work backhanded on her other pale cheek she began to sob piteously.
‘Oh please I’m sorry! I’m really, truly sorry!’ I ignored her, continued to thrash her buttocks to a scarlet that matched the first-beaten cheek.
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I’m pretty sure this picture is from the Taylor Twins website, but I’m not sure what the story was supposed to be. The girls look pretty hangdog to me, so I’d rather make up my own. Of course it involves cheerleader malfeasance and some well-earned spankings in the back yard:
I just got my hands on a treasure trove of production stills from the Lupus Spanking movies, so you’ll be seeing some more of those here over the days and weeks to come. They’re pretty high-resolution, so I can play with details, too.
For instance, there’s one sequence featuring a caning block and one of the heavily welted purple-striped caned bottoms for which Lupus is so deliciously infamous. But up in the upper left corner, dimly seen until I jacked the gamma a bit, were two already-caned girls, naked, in tears, terrified that they were going to get more, and trying to comfort each other. I had to grab them and blow them up a bit for your delectation:
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