This Girl Will Crawl

If you study how carefully this unfortunate girl’s legs are laced to the bondage uprights, there’s only one possible conclusion. She’s in for some bastinado. “Mr. Cane, meet Mr. Feet.” Unless she’s very contrite and her master very merciful, she’s going to be crawling everywhere for a few days:

bound for bastinado aka falaka foot caning

From Infernal Restraints.

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Switchable Bottom

If you had a switch in your hand … and in this situation, you would … you’d never be able to resist pulling those panties just a bit further down and turning that cute pasty-white bottom quite creditably red:

bondage girl needs switching

Image credit is this shoot from Whipped Ass.

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Spread ‘Em For The Strap

I found this rather impractical but oh-so-fetching strapping pose at Doonstar:

spread open for a severe strapping punishment

Betrayed And Spanked In 1985

If you can’t trust Rhonda on your Trivial Pursuit team, who can you trust? Nobody, apparently. Cheryl from Positively Spanking tells about a spanking she got from Captain Hook (would I make this up?):

In December, 1985, I turned 25 years old. I went to a New Year’s Eve party given by some friends I bowled with. When we were bowling that Saturday, we were bowling against a pretty good team. On the team was a married couple named Ben and Norma. Ben was a big left hander who had the nickname Captain Hook because of the way his ball broke when he threw it. He had the biggest hook I’d ever seen. Anyway, they mentioned to me that another couple we bowled with, Jeanette and Dennis, were having a party on New Year’s Eve. “Oh, it’s my birthday. Sure, I’ll go.”

As soon as Ben heard it was my birthday, he began to taunt me. He said, when I came back from bowling a strike (my forth in a row) he said “I’m going to put you over my knee and spank you in front of everyone.” “Sure you are, Ben,” I laughed. I noticed that Norma, his wife, didn’t like this talk. “He’ll get drunk and forget,” she assured me. Oh, I hoped not.

Anyway, the night of the party came and I got dressed with care, deciding to wear a pair of gray snakeskin pumps I’d been saving for a special occasion.We’d been eating a lot and drinking a fair amount when someone suggested a game of Trivial Pursuit, still all the rage then. I belonged to a group that played regularly so I was all for it. We played guys against the girls. It was a spirited game and we took it very seriously. However, no one wanted to see the evening disintegrated because of a silly game so we decided there would be no bragging or rubbing it in from the winning team. So a compromise was reached. Dennis, Jeanette’s husband, suggested that if the ladies’ team lost, the captain of the team (me) would get a spanking by the captain of the other team (Ben). “I already promised her one coz it’s her birthday,” Ben said. “She’ll get spanked either way.”

The other ladies–Jeanette, Norma and my friend Rhonda–protested. What if the guys lost? “Yeah, think you can handle getting a spanking, Ben?” I asked. No way. The spanking was only for the ladies. If the guys lost? “We’ll do the dishes,” Dennis volunteered. There was a mountain of them in the kitchen, so of course, the bet was on.

Well, it went down to the last question and we lost. It’s been 25 years and I still think that Rhonda missed that question on purpose. Who doesn’t know that Eli Whitney invented the cotton gin? But I was a good sport. I settled myself over Ben’s ample lap and he counted out 25 pretty good spanks, plus one for good luck. I had on gray pantie hose under the winter white slacks I was wearing but I still felt it. So did Ben. “You have the hardest ass I’ve ever felt,” he said. “Yeah, my dad said the same thing,” I shrugged. “Must be all that horseback riding.”

Anyway, that was the last spanking I got for a long time. I remember Norma was sort of looking on with a jealous expression the whole time her husband was spanking me. He was obviously enjoying it. I was 25, young and firm.

Sad-Faced On The Spanking Horse

I don’t have an attribution or artist for you on this one, but she looks quite sorely put-upon:

vintage spanking and bondage art

Cane, Or Fingers?

Dilemmas are always fun. This one is from a caning story called Another Of Mr Morgan’s Funny Ideas, originally appearing in Roue 13 but found here:

“Come along my girl -” The fingertip coaxed the panting girl back into position, and slid down under the swell of her mound.

“Oooo – ooooh -”

Another stroke, not too hard.

“Come on Violet – there’s a good girl.”

Swhit – swhit – swhit.

Violet’s bum swerved away, the fingers edged her back again. The cane stung once more. Violet squirmed and gasped and snatched forward away from the cane – onto the fingers. She pulled away from the intrusion – her bum thrust itself backwards.

Thwitt!

She jolted forward again.

“Oooo – oooo – s-sir – I”

“That’s a good girl -”

Violet wriggled back, bottom pleading for another one. Whack!

“Ooow! Ooooh -”

Slowly she learned. If she squirmed back away from the fingers her bum couldn’t help but thrust itself out – for the cane. The more she stuck it out, the harder it got caned. The thing was not to stick it out. If she resisted the urge to slide backwards away from the fingers – well, she still got caned. But not so hard. Enough to make her wriggle. To squirm a bit. Slowly she caught on to that too. The cane flicked – not too hard. Violet wriggled. The cane hovered. Violet stopped squirming. Swhitt! Another stroke.

Violet wriggled quite a lot!

A few tears were inevitable. The eventual outcome was inevitable. Buckling at the knees, hips snatching back and forth as her toasted bum got another half-dozen swishes for good measure, Violet shuddered to the peak of her very first orgasm at the instigation of a man.

Faces Of Pain

The Russian Discipline site is unusually rich in schoolgirls with emotive faces, especially ones with pained and sullen expressions:

punished schoolgirls by the half-dozen

Tears are not out of the question:

crying caned schoolgirl

two girls being caned side by side

Er, play up school?

Of course, if you click through, you’ll see ample evidence why they look so painfully oppressed: rows and rows of nicely placed cane welts. Yum.

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