Spanking Blog: Adult Erotic Spanking At Its Best

Amanda emailed this cute Christmas Spanking poem to me, labeled “author unknown”:

‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even my spouse.
The paddles were hung in the cupboard with care,
In hopes that her bottom soon would be bare.

The children were nestled at Grandma’s in bed,
While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads;
And ma in her nightie, and I in my cap
Had just settled down for a long discipline chat.

When out of her mouth there arose such a clatter,
I sat on the bed as she sassed “What’s the matter?”
I pulled her up over my knee in a flash,
Then pulled up her nightie, to bare her sweet ass.

Her bottom, as white as the new-fallen snow
Would soon have the luster of a healthy red glow.
Then what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a large wooden paddle, to redden her rear!

With long hard swings, both lively and quick,
She knew in a moment it won’t be a picnic.
In rapid succession the paddling came,
I shouted, and called out her no-nos by name:

“Now, SASSING! Now, LYING! And STAYING UP LATE!”
I paddled her hard and continued her fate.
She begged and she pleaded and I knew she would bawl!
Her bottom, her thighs — I covered them all!

As I held her down tight, I could hear her loud cries —
When the paddle met her, there were tears in her eyes.
So I spanked and I spanked and the paddle it flew,
And the lecture of love that came with it too.

To the wiggling and kicking of each little foot
The paddle would soon make her little ass cook.
As I drew back the paddle, again it would sound:
Down on her bottom it came with a bound.

She was pretty and sexy, from her head to her foot,
But her soul was all tarnished like ashes and soot;
A bundle of guilt she had had on her back,
I took them away with each firm paddle whack.

Her eyes — how they twinkled! With tears that weren’t merry!

Her cheeks — red as roses, her thighs like a cherry!
Her beautiful hair was drawn up in a bow,
And her bottom was now not so white as the snow.

I let her get up and put paddle on shelf,
Then kissed her to show her my love for herself.
A wink of my eye and a twist of my head,
Soon let her know it was now time for bed;

I spoke not a word, but went straight to my work,
I tucked her in bed; then turned with a jerk,
And laying my finger aside of my nose,
I said to myself, “She’s as red as a rose”.

Although spanking for love can be quick as a whistle,
It won’t blow away like the down of a thistle.
So to all of you folks who love spankings so dear,
“MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL, AND TO ALL A RED REAR!

The reader who wrote to inquire about loop-ended canes has received and tested one, and writes:

Hello again! I received the loopy cane yesterday. We tried it last night and it is so much more than a cane. It’s like being hit with two canes or three, (depending on which angle you aim from) at the same time. It’s really intense. Because of the rounded end you don’t have to watch out for that tip or wrap around. It can also sneak into tight places close to tender spots that you’d have to work at, to get with the cane. If you have a love hate relationship with the cane, this one will become your best friend, the others will become lonely hanging in the closet! Thanks again for your assistance in finding this cool new toy for us.

You are welcome!

I’ve linked to Sweetness Follows forever, because Michelle gets spanked a lot. So it’s noteworthy when Mike has messed up and (as previously agreed — that was your first mistake, man!) had to get punished.

At this point in the tale Michelle tries to go all poor-me:

I really, really didn’t want to do it. It’s not something that I’ve ever found exciting — sure, getting a spanking is great for me. Giving one? Not so much. He once had me test out the flogger on him — giving him one stroke on the bum — and I cried for an hour afterwards.

Later on, she’s singing a different tune. Does she still sound unhappy to you?

We moved into the bedroom, where I asked him to lay on his stomach. He did, and I very gently dried him off with a nice, soft towel, being especially gentle on his tender red bottom. Then I sweetly and gently gave him a massage, with our mint (tingly tingly) massage oil. And then I got out the cane. Yes, the steel one. Twenty strokes with that. Not overly hard, but not wimpy girly strokes, either. I think it was around the tenth (so thirtieth in all) stroke with the cane that I finally elicited a “Jesus Christ, Michelle!” from him. Five strokes later, there he was, wriggling and (could it be?) trying to move away from the cane. “Mike,” I said. “What are you doing?” “Nothing.” “Well then stop moving!” “But it hurts!”

… sound a little familiar? Role reversal, I’d say.

This could never happen to me (he said smugly) because around here, even suggesting that I be spanked (however playfully, and no matter the circumstances) gets Bethie in trouble. If I were so foolish as to get into Mike’s predicament, I should hope Bethie would be too distracted — by imagining the consequences when it’s my turn again — to deliver the goods.

No, really, the sexy kind. Metafilter has this really incredible set of links to the forums on Bondage.com, consisting of transcripts of hilarious phone conversations a kinky man has with his mother, after (1) she has taken a job in a sex shop; (2) she has discovered her son is kinky, and (3) she’s met a submissive man with a foot fetish. Just one small sample:

Mom: I think I might be what they call a switch.

Me: What?!

Mom: Well, I’m not really sure. Will you answer a question?

Me: Sure, soon as I’m done spewing my lunch up.

Mom: Stop it, Kirk. You don’t know how upset I’ve been with you for finding this out about you. (You? You?! Wtf? It’s all about you, isn’t it.)

Me: I know you mom, but what’s done is done, and what is- is exactly the opposite of what ain’t.

Mom: Well at least you’re not like the customers in the store.

Me: I’m not sure if that’s a good or bad thing. Why do you think you’re a switch?

Mom: Because when your father and I used to go away on camping trips, I really liked being spanked.

Me – … (My life expectancy is seriously dwindling here.)

Mom: Well? Doesn’t that mean I might be a switch?

Me: … Is nothing sacred to you?

Mom: For petes sake, kirky. You have NO IDEA how hard it is to think that YOU are like this! And now, I’m caught up in it! I went to church on Sunday and I had to leave in the middle!

Me: Yah, I hate those conflicting church/spanking schedules.

Mom: That’s not funny.

Me: Neither is the thought of dad spanking you. (Remember your first roller coaster ride? And all the nausea that accompanied it?)

Mom: Well it was fun at the time. (I can HEAR her smiling. This is just evil.)

One might be forgiven for doubting whether these transcripts match actual phone calls, but there’s a certain undeniable “nobody could make that up” flavor to the things.

Thanks to Daze Reader for the link.

How would you like to trade traffic with a bunch of spanking-related websites? If that sounds good, you should consider signing up to trade with my spanking toplist.

If toplists are new to you, the basic idea is a list of links (usually with banners) that every participating member links to. The people who send the most hits get ranked highest on the page, and (in theory) get more hits back. Because people click on more than one link at the toplist, it serves as a traffic multiplier; done right, everybody gets back more traffic than they send.

I originally set up my toplist to try and expand the traffic to Spanking Blog, back when I didn’t have very many readers. And it worked fairly well, at first. Unfortunately, toplists are vulnerable to cheating; there are a dozen ways to send fake hits, get ranked dishonestly high, and skim the traffic from the honest participants. Because I was using free software that lacked anti-cheat features, my toplist eventually attracted cheaters. You could see it just by looking at the numbers; the “hits in” numbers at the top of the page were immensely bigger than the “hits out” numbers, because most of the “hits in” were fake, having been generated by click-bots.

Well, I rocked along for awhile just by deleting the most obvious cheaters, but it wasn’t enough. So finally I bit the bullet, upgraded to the paid-for professional version of the toplist script, and got serious about weeding out the cheaters. I had to set up a gateway page and turn on a bunch of anti-cheat features, after which it quickly became clear who the cheaters were. They’re gone now, and you can see at a glance that the toplist is healthy again. Everybody is getting more traffic than they send.

All sorts of web pages are welcome, from blogs to journals to home pages to pay sites. If you have a page with a spanking or BDSM theme, you should give it a try. It actually works best for people with tiny sites; sending one or two hits is enough to get you on the list for a couple of weeks, and even WAAAY down at the bottom of the list, you’ll still probably get fifty or more return visitors in that time.

(Another good toplist for adult blogs of all sorts is Cunning Linguists. )

In the comments over at Spanking Bethie, someone writes:

The thick twisted red Twizzler licorice sticks make for really nasty spanking tools. The 12 inchers are bad, but the 24 inch ones they sell around Halloween are murder. Black twizzlers break, red ones don’t — and they really really hurt!!!!! Just so you know.

Sounds like she speaks from experience!

Patty had to ask for a spanking the other day. I quote the asking part, you’ll have to read for yourself the (hard) spanking part. And, of course, the part with the “after the spanking” activities. (“Bad, naughty Zoot!”)

I let Fred spend enough time to do all the bills and the budget in Quicken. Partly while I got up my nerve, but also because I know it puts him in just the right kind of mood to be able to spank really hard. Then I knocked on the door to the den with Bethany’s paddle tucked up behind my back.

My timing wasn’t quite perfect, because he wasn’t quite done, but my interruption was OK with him.

“Hey there?”

“”Hi.” I know I sounded nervous, because I could feel myself trembling and my face flushed.

The concern on his face was immediate. I think he was afraid something was wrong for a second, and then I reached out the paddle to him and his expression changed immediately. “Hard?” He knew right away why I was there and what I needed.

“Yes please.”

“You’ve been working up to this for days haven’t you?”

I just nodded, because my mouth dried up. I knew then that he’d been waiting to let me get to a place where I could ask this time, and that he was more than ready to apply all his frustrations and curbed annoyances into giving me what I needed.

“Come here,” he pushed his chair away from the desk and around away from other obstructions and pointed to the floor by his feet.

Second, third and fourth thoughts flooded through me before I obeyed him, but my need defeated them all and I moved to where he told me to go.

“Pull your pants down Patty,” he sounded annoyed that I hadn’t already started to do that.