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You know how it looks when you whack a couch cushion or something like that with a cane? And the impression that’s left in the knap of the fabric shows the cane stripe?
Well, these pictures of a girl getting caned in a plush (and tight!) running suit show “welts” like that:
Via Spank Slaves.
Here’s a very debauched monk, courtesy of Vintage Lust. The artist is Aroldo Bonzagni, and I think he may also have drawn this nun whipping art I posted in July.
See Also:
Well, duh. You knew that, already.
But from the electric smile on this young lady’s face as she works over Rosaleen Young’s bottom, it might be a fairly recent discovery for her:
However, it is my considered opinion that both of them have too many clothes on.
I really like the non-standard — but very effective! — bondage position for this whipping:
Kaya gets the best hate mail. It’s a pity (although, too, probably a mercy) that her master keeps her on a tight leash when it comes to acknowledging or responding to it. Because when she does, look out:
You think you’ve got me “all figured out” from the blurbs you read? You think that you are going to save me from myself?
You could not be more wrong. I’m saving myself, with no help from do-gooders like you. The only abuse that I ever suffer in my life right now is from anonymous assholes sitting on a high horse of morality with no clue about ME, no clue about what makes me happy, judging me from afar. People like you.
I do not cry anymore, at least not for the same reasons that I cried while lying in a puddle of shame on the bathroom floor so many years ago. I cry now for other reasons, reasons far beyond your tiny mind’s ability to fathom. I cry in relief because there is *nothing* wrong with me, I am not flawed, I am not sick, I am not demented. I cry because I’m living the life I dreamed about for so long. I cry because I’m incredibly lucky, because other people that I know want what I have, because they are still masturbating in shame and I am not. I cry because I have someone who knows every single dark thing about me and He loves me for it. Not in spite of it, and He doesn’t love me “anyway”, He loves me because I am exactly who and what I am. And that is a priceless gift, in any relationship, bdsm or vanilla.
I cry out of extreme happiness and satisfaction. I cry from the pain that I crave. Pain that I need, that I seek out. Pain that makes me feel alive and joyful, that makes life colorful and amazing and wonderful.
And I cry because He loves me more than life itself and that’s an awesome feeling.
I hope that someday you can understand it. Before you make someone else ashamed of being who they are. Deeming what is acceptable for another person is really quite wrong of you. Incredibly so.
The only one who should be ashamed here is you.
Celebratory in-yer-face bonus link: In one post, Kaya asks what’s the big deal about face-slapping, and then shows pictures of her “ass of weapons destruction” cutting a sticky swathe (in any military operation like this, there’s bound to be a few minor abrasions) through a pile of her master’s favorite spanking toys.
Bethie is always willing and, on any given day, more playful than I am. She’d kill for a second flogger like the one below (the one we have is suede), and she’s been hinting for a bunny tail and a dog tail. So it’s no difficult feat to imagine her in this posture:
But there’s puppy play, and then there’s puppy play. Like middle aged people everywhere, we’ve got the usual assortment of aches and pains. I don’t mind saying my own knees and elbows are cringing (hard to picture, but true) in sympathy with bondage model Madison Young:
Bethie could take Madison in a “getting her ass paddled” contest without breaking a sweat, I have no doubt. But kneecap and elbow crawling on hard tile? I wouldn’t even let her try it, no, ouch ouch all the wrong kinds of ouch.
From The Training Of O.
From a weblog by Slavish:
Had a wonderful time with my Master last Thursday evening. Laid over Masters metal table so that my ass was in the air, bound with cling film around my wrists so that i really couldn’t move and then caned. Hard.
Even after the caning had ended and my ass was stinging like mad i begged Master for more of the cane, knowing that if i received any more they would be extra hard. I was given six more whacks. It hurt like mad but it was one of those times when i just really needed to feel the pain.
My ass was bruised and it didnt half hurt when we sat down to eat supper. Once we had eaten i begged Master again to please spank me so i found myself across his knee having my already throbbing ass spanked with his hard hand.
A chance to practise my deep throating technique, the big giant black dildo pushed up inside my ass hole while Master used the buzzer on my clit, plenty of cums being allowed. Wow, a brilliant evening.