Spanking Blog: Adult Erotic Spanking At Its Best

This just in: a photo from from Red Ass Teens, this one featuring a dark-skinned beauty being punished on the reformatory warden’s desk:

We get letters, just like David Letterman, oh indeedy we do. Every now and then, I like to share with you an especially nifty bit of fanmail. This latest is from KittySlave, who writes:

I want you to know I’ve been coming to your website for a couple of years now. When I was in my late teens, I started trying to understand the weird cravings I had. I tried talking about it with a couple of my friends, and most of them just warned me of the wackos online. I ignored them, and started doing my own research. I found some sites, but they scared me. I started to wonder if all BDSMers were fullbore “blood must be showing” kind of people. I knew I couldn’t do that.

Then, somehow, I happened across your website. Now, up until this point, I hadn’t liked pictures; I loved stories, but no pictures. All the pictures I’d seen had been too hardcore. (Behinds beaten until they’re nearly black, etc.) I started checking out your site, and not only were you not like that, but you even made my desires look normal. That was a big shock to me.

I started coming back to keep up with your adventures with Bethie. She was also a surprise to me. I’m mischievous by nature, and all the online Doms I’d met had informed that mischief would be harshly punished. I couldn’t fathom why all mischief would be bad. Certainly if you go and pull a prank or whatnot, it could be bad. But all mischief? Then I started reading about Bethie; she definitely has her moments, and that was a relief to me.

A little over 2 years ago, I met my Master. He loves mischevious slaves. And even the pranks, he merely sees as a challenge, and not necessarily a reason for punishment. As the last two years have gone by, we’ve tried experimenting around with new things. One month ago, I introduced him to your website. Inspired, he’s had me start going through your archives for new ideas. Thanks to you we discovered figging (in fact there’s a piece of fresh ginger root in the fridge with my name on it…owie!), and spankmercials. He’s very fond of that! He was also delighted by your idea for what to do with Trivial Pursuit, and I’ve been required to come up with variations for other games as well. I’m still looking through the archives to see what else there is!

I just wanted to thank you for having helped guide my start into this journey. I’m now proud to say I like being spanked. (Well, at least when Master’s not around to hear me say it.) Oh, and thanks for the posting awhile back of ten reasons why marks are good. I’ve always been oddly proud of my marks, and so is Master. He now requires me to tell him if the marks have disappeared so He knows when to add new ones. Can’t have me going too long with no marks, now can He?

No indeed, KittySlave, he can’t! Thanks ever so much for your nice letter.

Bethie left me at a Circuit City on Thursday so she could do some unhurried shopping elsewhere. Turns out the Circuit City had no public restroom, unlike the PetSmart next door. Once in the Pet Smart and essential business completed, I said hello to the parrots and stopped by the horse supplies area to check for interesting new crops. Found one, even; a short number wrapped in a braided synthetic with a narrow-but-very-soft leather slapper loop on the end.

So yesterday I caught her coming out of the shower and gave her a test whacking with the new crop, which seemed to go well. But she weaseled her way out of a more extended test by raising the spectre of a Monday doctor’s appointment at which she doesn’t feel like explaining unusual welts. Fair enough, I’m a patient man, I can wait, I can calculate interest (well, more like vigorish, heh). But I was just reminded of this when I saw the following on the BDSM Technique discussion forum at Bondage.com:

I did forget about an upcoming doctor’s appointment once. For a Pap smear, no less.

Riding crop had left deep purple bruises striped all along the inner part of both thighs.

My doc went through the entire exam without a hitch, and then, rising and removing her gloves, glanced at me, one eyebrow raised, and said “I assume those are recreational? You understand, I do have to ask…”

It’s hard to shock a doctor these days.

Uh, oh! You’re in trouble now, girl:

You can try begging, but I don’t think it will help!

From the Lupus Spanking (formerly Rigid East) people.

The other day I was looking at a spanking website, written by a man, and it gave me the minor flesh creepies. The topic was the enjoyment the writer got from “improving” young ladies by bringing discipline to their lives. Which is fine and all in a role-playing sense, but this guy seemed to be completely serious. His tone was avuncular (in that bad-uncle-who-never-gets-invited-to-watch-the-kids sense) and his writing was full of diminutives whenever his “girls” were mentioned. They were described as scatterbrained moppets who couldn’t hope to function without his firm hand, paddle, cane, riding-crop, and so forth. He, of course, derived sexual pleasure from their discipline only as a minor secondary benefit; his true joy (he said) lay in giving them the direction and loving attention they needed to get and keep their lives in order. A bleedin’ humanitarian, that’s wot ‘e is.

Me, I call bullshit.

I remember when I was young and trying to figure out sex and kink and all this. And one thing I remember is the rather considerable tension between (on one hand) wanting to do various not-nice things to the young women of my acquaintance, and (on the other hand) my self-image as a nice, decent guy. One way of resolving that tension was to build elaborate fantasy scenarios in which the young women “deserved” their spankings or whatever, or in which the spankings were really for their own good, or were necessary to save a bus full of orphans, or … you get the idea.

Of course, the trouble with such fantasies is that they tend to be wildly implausible, or intellectually dishonest, or both. At the end of the day, it’s really not OK to spank the bay-jeebus out of cute-but-incompetent female burglars, even if they are caught trying to steal insulin from a diabetic nun.

So how to resolve this tension between kinky desires and nice-guy self-image? Eventually, yet well before any delectable young ladies consented to my lustful grasp, I figured out that I couldn’t resolve the tension by finding better excuses to act in kinky ways for the good of all; no, I needed to modify my self-image. In my own mind, I became a nice, decent, kinky guy with a hint of controlled dangerousness (at least when I’m flattering myself). In other words, I decided that (so long as the ladies are willing) I don’t need no steenkin’ excuse to be kinky. Kinky is OK.

And that comfort with the morality and general “okay-ness” of kink is what I found missing on the “improving her life through spankings” website I was reading the other day. But there was more to my discomfort than that. I read a lot of kinky blogs, and I see folks struggling to be comfortable with their kinks all the time. I’m sympathetic or mildly derisive depending on my mood, but I don’t usually have the strong negative reaction I had to Mr. Savior Disciplinarian.

Along comes Bonnie to the rescue. Writing in honor of International Women’s day, she makes mention of

…web sites that portray women as being inherently inferior. Worse yet, we are shown as hopelessly flawed creatures who would be lost but for constant guidance and frequent punishments delivered by men. I find these characterizations offensive and insulting.

I read that and recognized Mr. Savior Disciplinarian. In bending over backwards to find a good-enough excuse to spank women, he apparently convinced himself that they are not really able to manage their own afffairs without his stern-but-loving guidance. In short, he wasn’t acknowledging them as fully-competant adult human beings.

Bonnie writes further:

There are feminists who, with good intentions, lump all women of kink in with the unfortunate oppressed. In their minds, we couldn’t possibly choose this lifestyle without having been coerced, presumably by a man. In its way, this generalization is nearly as objectionable and patronizing. In both cases, other people who claim to understand our interests better than we do ourselves seek to constrain our roles.

I was born female, but I am a spanko by choice. I am empowered to make my own decisions. I freely choose to loan my control to my husband because that kind of play brings us enjoyment and fulfillment. This act doesn’t render me forever inferior. It says nothing about the rightful role of any other woman or man.

Bonnie is, of course, correct. How can someone claim to be a feminist while simultaneously refusing to respect a kinky woman’s capacity to consent?

Here’s a quaint scene of bedroom punishment with a leather strap, viewed from the best possible angle:

From Real Spankings, one of the sites in the Real Spankings Pass family of spanking paysites.

Marcus at A Spanker’s View understands how birthday spankings are supposed to go, and he doesn’t mind doing what’s necessary to make sure his bratgirl gets the memo:

Penny woke up. I hadn’t awakened yet, but Penny was always mischievous. She had lowered the blanket and sheets so that my bare butt was exposed. Then she started to spank me!

Talk about a wake up call!

I was suddenly alert, and moving around to stop that. “What are you doing, wench?”

Brazenly, she announced, “Spanking you! It’s your birthday! I think you get 3* swats this year!”

I grinned. “I think you are right. Crawl over my lap now, Penny.”

“What? No, You get the swats this time. It’s your birthday!”

She was shocked as I pulled her over my naked lap. Her camisole slid up, but her bottom was as bare as it almost always was in bed with me…