Spanking Blog: Adult Erotic Spanking At Its Best

I’ve heard of a lot of good excuses for a spanking, but I’ll confess that “to help concentrate more during church” is new to me. The spanked-for-gossiping business, however, is a fair bit more traditional:

Yesterday was Sunday and when I am getting daily spankings then I also get two on Sundays, it is to help me concentrate more during church. I woke up and started breakfast then went to get a quick shower. As my husband showered I finished up breakfast and then we sat down and ate, I wearing nothing but panties as I was soon to be spanked.

After breakfast I was sent to the corner while my husband did the breakfast dishes, yes sometimes he does the dishes. While he was washing them he would from time to time scold me for my gossiping behavior, warning me that I had better not do any today at church. Then he finished up the dishes he came in the room with the hairbrush and the paddle.

He called me out of the corner and had me strip and I stood before him totally naked as he scolded me, the shame was great and I was crying even before I went over his lap. He then ordered me over his lap and started spanking me with the hair brush, lightly but then getting stronger and stronger until I was crying very repentively. He then had me stand up and grab the seat of the chair and gave me 10 strong swats with the paddle. After corner time I was sent to wash my face and then get ready for church, I sat on a very sore bottom that morning.

…

After dinner I was put over my husbands lap for a spanking and was once again crying very repentively, or if you will, sobbing like a very sorry little girl. I was agin told to grab the seat of the chair and this time I got 20 swats with the paddle, and then back to the corner. The I got dressed and we went to evening services.

I love the expresson on this young lady’s face; she’s in position for her spanking, but she’s so not happy about it:

In fact, here’s a closeup on that wonderful facial expression:

From Girls Boarding School.

It’s probably a bad idea for a woman who calls herself “Daddy’s baby” to smart off to “Daddy”:

…then I got kinda sassy and yelled a little bit and got sarcastic. That’s when he took me upstairs and gave me a paddling.

The paddling was bad, bare bottom with the wooden paddle with the holes in it. I screamed my head off and bawled. After he was done he made me go in the corner with my panties down which is SOOO embarrassing, and then he made me go to bed and it wasn’t even eight o’clock yet. I felt really sulky but not enough to open my mouth and say anything else to get me spanked again.

Then he went into the office and did some work with his office door open and left the bedroom door open too while I was in bed. I think he was doing that so he could peek and make sure I wans’t touching myself in bed which I really really really REALLY wanted to do but I never really do that without his permission because when he caught me doing it one time he gave me a pussy strapping and I never EVER want to have that again.

It’s not easy finding an effective deterrant for a woman who enjoys spankings, but I suppose for some, a pussy strapping does the trick!

There’s nothing sadder than a spanko girl who doesn’t get the spanking she’s expecting. From A Life Restarted:

One of the things that makes me happy is a daily spanking (at my request most often). TND seems to enjoy my request and has no problem giving them. This morning, we had an early wake-up call, with no time for said spanking. So, tonight after dinner, we were in our bedroom chatting as we gathered things to head to the studio for some work TND had to finish.

TND: (as he fingers the paddle by the bed) Honey, could you bring me my hairbrush please?

Me: Sure!

And I pad into the bathroom for His brush, assuming i’m going to get my spanking. grabbing the brush I return to TND, who’s sitting on the bed. Handing Him the brush, I turn my ass to Him.

TND: Thanks.

And He begins to brush his hair. Then He looks up at my disappointed and startled face and laughs.

Me: Hey! I thought…

As He laughs, He turns me sideways and delivers several sound swats to my ass.

We left our home for the studio, laughing and me with a stingy, warm ass.

From an old comments thread at Spanking Writers comes this (fanciful?) tale of a family spanking tradition dating back 200 years:

Did you know that there is quite a tradition of “The Family Strap”? My wife’s family has had one for nearly 200 years. It is made of fine leather and oiled with neeps foot oil. And it is just like new. How do I know? Because the daughter of the family who needs it the most, by common consent, is given the strap as a bequest when she marries. It is hers to keep, but her husband’s to use. Well that “daughter” is my wife, and I am the husband who uses it, quite regularly.

We call Meddy, for Medicinal Strap. So that means I can say in public, Oh I think Meddy might be coming over the weekend, and watch my lovely but overstrung better half wince quietly. When it is time to administer “Meddy’s favour”, Sandy (not her real name)has to strip naked from the navel down – bare feet, legs, and bottom. And then fetch Meddy from her secret compartment. Sandy is hand-spanked first and then Meddy has her turn. The tears and shrieks are real, as is the bouncing red bum. The punishment is noted on a piece of parchment that goes in the mahogany container where Meddy lives. I promised that I would never touch or move Meddy unless it was to use her on Sandy’s arse.

So when we moved, Sandy had to pack Meddy up and move her to the car. But the rules also state that Sandy cannot touch or move Meddy unless she is naked from the waist down. We did not have to discuss anything on moving day. That night, while I was working on something else, I looked up and saw a butt-naked Sandy carrying a mahogany case to the car and trailer. It was dark, so most probably nobody saw her, but if they had, what would they have made of it.

Feet are fun to tickle and play with (especially when they are all tied up securely as in this photo) but for me personally, the bastinado fantasy never did a whole lot. Caning the soles of her feet? You’d need to be more of a foot fetishist than I am. But you have to admit, the aft end of Hogtied.com bondage model Annie Cruz is awfully cute, and the temptation to at least menace those pretty feet with a few light swishes would be hard to avoid:

See Also:

• Bastinado Girl
• Bastinado Artwork
• A Touch Of Bastinado

If this were a shaggy dog story, it would start: “So these two SCAdians walk into a leather merchant’s shop…”

Well, they do. And they buy a pair of cheap riding crops. Marital hilarity ensues.

Anyway, we got them for a buck each, and were happy they had been so cheap. Maddie was *so* excited, she began slapping almost anything within reach with hers. I, being a model of virtue and temperance, did no such thing, and saved it for later use in the list.

On the way home, however, things took an unforseen turn (although it shouldn’t have been unforseen….).

Maddie readily admits that she is the likely culprit for the role of instigator (any memories I had of conversations to the contrary, closer to these events, are surely mistaken…). She began slapping me in the arm and leg as I was driving. Of course, both of us were still in garb, and had our crops in our belts, so the weapons were still close at hand. I defended myself as best I could.

I need to explain that Maddie has two simple rules for these fights, should you take a shot that hurts: You’re a pu$$y if you look at it, and you’re a pu$$y if you rub it. Only the head was off-target.

There was NO holding back. These blows were *whistling*. They were little riding crops, and we could generate some serious velocity, even in the close quarters of a van’s front passenger cabin. They were going, ‘whoo – THWACK’! with each blow. Especially if you snapped it a little at the end. We even found we could get little combos going – bicep/thigh, hand/forearm, etc. And of course, were laughing like a couple of loons the entire time.

So there we were, going 70 down the highway, flailing away at each other. Both of us were too stubborn to admit that any of the blows *might* have hurt, and to either look at it or rub it was to concede defeat. So we kept upping the calibration. Two stubborn, competitive people with riding crops make a bad combination.

We finally ‘negotiated’ a cease-fire, and of course neither side was willing to admit defeat, so we both could claim victory, or at least a tie.

After we got home. we found we were *covered* in welts.

It doesn’t matter how you do it, as long as you and your spouse spend quality time together. Ahh, mawwige….

70 MPH? Ulp! Kiddies, don’t try this at home! Closed track, professional drivers only.