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There’s nothing in the world like a spot of informal military discipline:
Do you suppose she’s being punished for wearing white panties instead of camo or drab like her top? Those bright white underthings could get her killed squatting behind a bush on a moonlit night….
From Spanking Server.
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This spanking account comes from the Real Life Spanking Stories area on The Spanking Den forum:
Back when I was a young adult I was dating a local preacher’s daughter. I had given some light playful spankings to her, but not punishment and we had not had sex, just went part way.
Between sunday school and worship a girl who had a big crush on me came up and was talking to me, my GF got miffed and I told her she was out of line. While we were talking about it, the girl come up again and the next thing I knew a fight broke out! I was so shocked, I pulled them apart in seconds. I gave my GF a tongue lashing lecture about attacking a kid in the church building and how ashamed I was to be her BF. She fired back and I told her it was over, I was done with her.
Church ticked by like eternity as I sat there brewing over the scene she had caused. She rode with me so we had to leave together. I took her home in silence and noticed her expression changing from a twisted angry to a repentance in the 2 mile ride. Guess it was sinking in what she had done, coming from church and all.
Can not recall why, but when we got to her house I had to go in, guess I had stuff there. Once inside I read her face as tears rolled down her cheeks which was one of her best features and knew she was very ashamed of her behavior, some thing just clicked inside me and her at the same time, with out a word I just walked over, guided her to her knees facing the front of the recliner, bent her over into the seat and began to peel her. (She had the full church girl outfit on, it was like layers of an onion and took effort.) First up came her tight skirt which I had to wiggle over her perky butt in that position, then the slip easily joined it, I pulled the hose down near her knees, and finally the panties (white of course!) were slid down, revealing a nice white bottom trapped in an ummodest positoning causing quite a view.
It was just a hand spanking, but I slapped full strength and left a nice red hand print on her white cheek. I took my time, the slowest spanking I ever gave. Each slap was full strength and she reacted to every one, soon she was glowing. She sniffled and cried quietly the whole time, but never complained. Little by little she loosened and slumped further into the recliner taking it with total submission. After several minutes of spanking, I rubbed her dark red bottom and told her that she had just went way too far today and it could not ever happen again. She said “I know, I’m sorry.” sniffling. We had oral sex and then got dressed before anyone got home.
There was just something about that spanking for both of us. The way she acted leading up to it, the long silence from the church building that built the emotion up, the fact we both had the same idea for a solution at the same time without communicating, the church clothes (I think that was the icing on the cake), and the fact she came straight home from church and got a good spanking, not sure what all, but that spanking was one of the biggest turn ons I have ever experienced in my life.
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You’ve got to love a bit of TV slashfic involving a basement spanking and some popsicle buggery for the annoying Jackie character from That 70s Show:
Jackie Burkhardt waltzed into the Foreman’s basement, beaming with pride. “Ohmigod, you guys will not believe what just happened to me!”
“You magically remembered that you owe me fifty bucks?” smirked Donna.
“No, stupid! I was nominated for Snow Queen! That can only mean one thing…that I’m the prettiest and most popular girl in Point Place!”
“Don’t forget the shallowest and most arrogant,” added Hyde.
“Look Jackie, we’ve had it with your shit. You owe me money, you ratted out Eric to his sister, you annoy Hyde, and you’ve given Fez blue balls on more than one occasion.”
“Look, I promise I’ll pay you back your money, as soon as I buy this new dress I’ve wanted.”
“I don’t think so. You’re going to learn a lesson, and we’re going to teach you. Guys?”
With that Eric and Hyde each grabbed one of Jackie’s arms, holding her firm.
“Hey, what’s going on? What do you think you’re doing?”
“We’re going to teach you what happens to stuck-up little rich girls,” Donna said, without getting up off the couch. “They get a spanking.”
“What?” Jackie’s eyes were as big as saucers. “You can’t spank me. I’ll tell Daddy. I’ll tell Michael!”
“The important fact you’re missing here is…we don’t care,” said Hyde, giving Jackie a pinch on the ass.
“Fez…help me!” pleaded Jackie.
“You heard her, Fez…help the poor girl out,” commanded Donna.
With that, Fez went over to Jackie, kneeled, and began unbuttoning her bell-bottom jeans.
“Stop it! You guys are crazy!” screamed Jackie. She attempted to kick Fez, but he had already worked her jeans down to her knees, imprisoning her legs.
“Oh, happy day,” he said, as he stared at her panties, mere inches from his face. They were white with pink lace and a little bow in front.
“Now bring her over here,” said Donna, pointing to her lap. She began rolling up her sleeves as the struggling girl was laid across her thighs. Hyde grabbed Jackie’s arms and held them out in front while Eric and Fez each grabbed a leg.
“Please, Donna, don’t do this…it’s too embarrassing!”
“Wow, what a great suggestion, Jackie!” said Donna. She grabbed the elastic waistband of the girl’s panties.
Time stood still in the Foreman basement, as Eric, Hyde, and Fez watched in amazement. Could this really be happening? Each of them had secretly fantasized about taking stuck-up Jackie over his knees and giving her a hard spanking on the bare, but none of them expected that Donna would share this desire.
Jackie, for her part, was mortified. She couldn’t believe that she was about to be de-pantsed and spanked in front of her friends. Not only were they her friends, but they were poor! And Fez wasn’t even from this country! The humiliation was unbearable.
But the panties were coming down. Jackie let out a prolonged “noooooooo!” as she felt the elastic slip down to her thighs and the cool air of the basement hit her exposed flesh. The boys all sighed in unison as Jackie’s superbly shaped white buttocks burst into view. Their mouths became instantly dry (partially due to the weed they’d just smoked) and their cocks sprung to life inside their pants.
Donna surveyed the pale, jiggling target on her lap and chuckled to herself. This would be the sweetest revenge ever.
From Punishing Jackie by Dr. Strange.
Maybe it’s the camera angle, maybe it’s the posture. But this girl getting paddled at Real Spankings is what my momma would have called “a long tall drink of water”:
More here, including some poor girls wearing big bruisey welts instead of pants.
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A reader from the UK sends in this spanking photograph as it appeared in the Friday, September 28 Daily Express newspaper:
Captioned: “1968: The solution to anti-Vietnam-war protests is clearly to render the offenders helpless and then give them a good spanking.”
Although I usually try to avoid real-life, non-consensual spanking material here on Spanking Blog, I’m bending my standards in this case due to the historical age and interest of the piece. And also because the lady in question is wearing really nice old-fashioned stockings with garters.
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I’m afraid these two images are a little too “pussy in your face” to display in living color here on Spanking Blog. But my concern for the tender sensibilities of the spanking fetishists who don’t come here expecting explicit bondage sex pictures extends only so far, because these pictures are too hot not to share.
So, how far does my concern extend? Why, the length of this disclaimer! (Which is now over.)
Without further ado:
Woohoo!
From this shoot at Sex and Submission.
I love a good “captured and forced into a harem” fantasy, even when, as here, the story has more buildup than action:
She was surrounded by a half dozen girls all dressed in slave silks. They immediately began to undress her. Fighting with what finger nails she had, Gwen managed to drive the girls away. One of the girls yelled something in Arabic.
Two giant men, with shaved heads and whips walked into the room. They look at her menacingly and walk out of the room. Once again, the girls began to undress her. This time Gwen did not resist; she had no choice.
They led her giggling to a bath which had been treated with perfumes and oils to soften her skin. The slave girls scrubbed her vigorously and then backed away, allowing her to soak in the warm water. “Maybe being a slave won’t be all bad.” she thought.
A bell rang in the distance and the girls help Gwen out of the pool and dried her. They wrapped her in silks like their own, curled her hair and applied her make up for her. The final touch was three silver bells, tied to her left ankle. Gwen walked gingerly across the room, enjoying the tinkling the bells made with each step.
Suddenly all the girls bowed as the two bald giants reappeared. They walk towards Gwen and fastened a collar around her neck. It was silver and matched the chain which attached the bells to her ankle. She humbly followed the two men as they left tent.
Like a dog, she was lead across a compound to an extremely large ornate tent. There sitting on a throne, wearing a mask to keep the desert sand out of his face, was her captor. With the lower half of his face covered, he looked sinister. She could tell, just by his presence, that he was cruelly handsome and that expect to have his way with any woman he desired.
Gwen was forced to kneel in his presence. The man on the throne snapped his fingers and a smallish man who looked like a Turkish librarian walked into the room and sat at the base of the throne. In a high shrill voice he spoke, “You are now a slave of the Sultan Naj. You will bow in his presence and obey his every command. You will only address him as ‘Master’.”
Rising to her feet, Gwen said, “I will not I am a citizen of…” As she spoke the Sultan raised two fingers and one of the giants brought his whip across her back side twice. Gwen winced in pain, biting her tongue to hold her scream.
As if nothing had happened, the librarian continued, “You will now dance and remove your veils to serve your master’s pleasure.”
Exotic music came from behind one wall of the tent as the librarian and two enforcers took their leave. Gwen started to dance. It was awkward at first but she did not want to feel the whip again.
That’s from Worth A Camel by Brush Strokes, via the Kirsten Archives.
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