A Brief Spanking Hiatus
Hey, everybody, just a heads up — I’m going to be taking a week or two off from blogging to do some other fun stuff. No worries, I’ll be back before the end of the month.
Hey, everybody, just a heads up — I’m going to be taking a week or two off from blogging to do some other fun stuff. No worries, I’ll be back before the end of the month.
Here’s a few of the Castro district’s finest demonstrating a spanking machine at the 2003 Folsom Street Fair:
There’s always something to see at the Folsom Street Fair.
Lisa and Frank are selling yummy-looking hardwood switches in maple, birch, ash, and cherry. Frank, the helpful soul, also offers an instructional DVD starring
“Lisa’s ass (and her thighs, front and back) not to forget her tits.” With “Lively Sound” and “Pretty Marks!”
I don’t get a cut (heh) for flogging (double heh) their shopping link, although Frank might have to send me a free sample when he hears what Bethie had to say. I was reading the DVD description aloud to her (and chortling) which prompted her to say, repeatedly: “Oooh, I’m going to have to kill that man….” I guess my reading was a little too enthusiastic. Where I live, I can cut the birch switches myself, but we don’t have the other hardwoods. So perhaps she thinks she’s safe. (Imagine my evil laughter here.)
Here’s what Lisa has to say about this whole idea:
Yesterday, M. took me on a walk through the woods, where we found lots of mushrooms (that I still need to make something with), but the trip itself was surreal. I was naked, without even having clothes in a backpack like last time. He pulled me about by the leash, and for a while had me walking around with a striped maple switch in my mouth, which he later gave me a quick beating with.
For some reason, when he complained that the bugs were bad, instead of getting outraged (because I was the one who was naked), this image popped into my head and helped me hold my tongue. I bet M. would love to have me like that, I thought, except I’d be naked and on a leash. I think it was when M. told me to find a market for striped maple that brought it all to mind.M. strapped me into Ms. Patty today for a demonstration of exactly how switches made from striped maple saplings should be used. Much of the session is blurry in my mind, because I think he pushed me pretty hard, though he says he still could push me much further. I seem to remember him hitting exactly the spot I love so much at one point though, and I had an orgasm from it. He also hit the spot at the top of my thighs that I hate hate hate and I screamed from that eventually.
Here, Master. Perhaps this is your market for striped maple?
I introduce the Striped Maplechist, complete with instructional video. (pronounced maple-kissed. Sort of like masochist, but different) I just wish we could sell enough that I’d look like that chick with the piles of switches on her back. I can attest to their potency. I’m still sitting quite gingerly, actually. I think everyone needs one for their umbrella stand, if nothing else!
Oh, I must agree!
Update. Bethie looked at the pictures of the switches, and said: “You know what those switches look good for? Cooking hotdogs on an open fire!”
Well, I’m sure they are good for cooking something, dear.
It’s been quite awhile since I posted any pictures from Girls Boarding School. I liked these next photos for two reasons. First, the young blonde woman getting caned is really cute:
Second, the camera catches some authentic-looking reaction shots. This caning must hurt!
See Also:
I’m giggling here. (And trust me, I’m a scary man when I giggle.) I just stumbled over a new-to-me blog called Joanie Writes. She writes about spanking, of which she gets plenty:
The power went out, and he blamed me. I said it was his fault, and teasingly ordered him to the bedroom for a spanking.
Now, there is NO way in holy hades I’m going to spank that man. He knows it, I know it, the entire world and universe knows it. But, he decided that was a sassy thing to say, and next thing I knew, I’m face down over the bed, and he’s spanking away with the leather rose paddle. My bottom is already tender. I really don’t want a spanking, but there it is, me butt up, getting smacked again. He went from that paddle to another, and then another, and I said, “Enough!” Oooops, big mistake!
“I will decide when it’s enough!”
He used every implement in the drawer, some several times over, and 40 minutes passed with me kicking, asking him to stop, and knowing that I was going to be sorer than sore by the time he stopped. At long last he did, and I went to fix my shorts and panties. Oh no, another mistake!
“I didn’t tell you that we were finished….” He started again, making sure to sting the thighs this time.
So why am I giggling? Because Joanie’s been married to this man for 34 years. I’ve had Bethie for less than a year, but she learned in the first two weeks not to threaten to spank me. It’s like messing around with Jim, you just don’t do it.
Unless, of course, you want a spanking.
Here’s another rare departure from the male-dominant theme around here. This femdom drawing struck me (har har) as entertaining, possibly because of the elegance of the young ladies:
Art is by Sardax.
Karl the Kilt Vendor was having a good day in the kilt booth:
It was a jovial booth by closing. Working hard, the lot of us, but also there was beer, and more flirting. Our young ladies decided it would be entertaining to test a small flogger on me. Which they did, lifting my kilt and applying a flogging that can best be described as annoying, but was clearly a source of mirth to some folks across the athletic field. I then suggested (this may be too soft a term) that it was now my turn to drive. I mean, I’m a keys-on-the-left guy, I work the flogger, I don’t get flogged. Oh, the pain is acceptable, but I’d rather deal it that receive it. I don’t like floggers though. I’d rather use a bare hand. If it doesn’t also hurt my hand, where’s the fun?
I seemed to find someone’s spanking limit. So my work was done.
See Also: