Spanking Blog: Adult Erotic Spanking At Its Best

OK, so funny-faced girl is gone. I had my fun with the bag on her head, but I still haven’t found a piece of replacement artwork for the right side of this blog template. So for now I’m going blank. (I was going to work with Invidia from The Collar Purple to get some custom art, but she and The Boss haven’t been blogging or answering email for the last month, so I guess that’s not on. I miss them!)

To reprise, here are the images in all their glory. First the photo I was working from:

And here’s the result after my amateur photoshop work. For some reason, lots of people absolutely hated this picture. They complained bitterly about the look on her face:

Which is why I did this:

That was funny at first, but now it’s gotten old.

Danor got caned. Again:

Then Kam rather abruptly got irritated with my inability to make decisions on what to buy, which spun me a little, and the upshot of it all was that I was a bit quiet and withdrawn on the drive home. Once home, Kam told me I was being a grump and needed a good caning. I didn’t think I was being a grump, but I usually need a good caning so I didn’t protest very much.

He had me clean up my room, which I hadn’t gotten around to cleaning up for his arrival (I’m not the neatest person, but I usually manage that, and will in the future, as scurrying around putting things away while he stood there grimly supervising and eyeing the cane was definitely eepish) and then set a pillow in the middle of the floor with a chair in front of it and facing it. He had me undress and kneel on the pillow and bend my upper body over the seat of the chair, and tied my hands together around the back of the chair. Then he got out the cane, tapped it against my bottom, and started in.

Have I mentioned I love being caned?

Yes, Danor, you did. {grin}

Please don’t stop, it’s always fun to hear about.

Goodness goodness, there’s been much fun reported over at Post Coitum Animal Triste lately. Irona is happy and well cared for:

You sent me on hands and knees to fetch the hairbrush. And the belt.

You bent me over the sofa back, balancing me on tiptoes, my buttocks and secret parts wide open to you. You had promised me a severe thrashing, but I could tell that your heart wasn’t in it. Your arousal was dominating you. All the grovelling, crawling and sheer mastery was making my head spin and my cunt drip. I craved that beating, and I loved it from start to finish. I winced, yelped and wriggled, but I savoured every blow, each perfect moment. You have never strapped me after a hairbrush spanking before, and the sensation of perfectly aimed, measured strokes of stiff leather striping my reddened, burning and tender butt cheeks (why does a spanked bottom feel so soft and supple?) was divine, the pain exquisite. After fondling my pussy and teasingly fucking me with the hairbrush handle, you rammed your cock into my soaking cunt and we both came – the urgency of our need, your hardness inside me, your flesh against mine, the fire built up by the spanking and accentuated by the stripes from my whipping all contributing to the sensation overload that sent me over the edge and left us both spent and glowing. Powerful. Grounded. Connected.

And that’s only one of her recent spankings. Like I said, well cared for.

A welcome and a big thanks to The Old Russian Woodshed, whose banner is sitting over there in the right bar for the excellent reason that the owner sent me a nice little sum of money. The site advertises some pretty severe punishment spanking videos from Russia, so if you like that sort of thing you’ll by all means want to visit.

So last night Bethie and I were watching a Law & Order: SVU episode in which three utterly vicious little teenaged blonde private school bitches (there’s no nicer way to put this) duct taped an ex-friend of theirs, threw her into the trunk of her own car, carved her up with manicure scissors, and then killed her. Then when the cops came around the girls were, shall we say, snotty to them.

About all I could think during this episode was that it would have been much better television if the entire process (from the girls’ obviously-lacking prior training in deportment onward through the interrogation process and clear through execution of sentence) had been conducted by vigorous application of the cane. In short, the girls didn’t have enough of this going on in their lives, not by a long shot:

Pictures courtesy of Girls Boarding School.

It should come as no surprise that motives in this game are sometimes complicated. Here’s an excerpt from a long entry Sarah wrote about wanting to be caned:

I want to be caned. So much so that it is invading my fantasies and holding my orgasms for ransom when I am on my own.

…

I know what a cane feels like when it hits. I don’t like it. That awful swish, that sharp sting, followed by a numbness that turns into a blinding burn across the ass. I do not like it at all. I have been known to burst into tears and try to escape before his arm was even raised and yet right now, I want it.

I sometimes wonder how I can crave these things that I despise so much. But I know that I want them just so I can cry. I want the comfort of crying. I want the comfort of big strong arms around me and a rough Welsh voice telling me to hush. I want to hurt so that He can take the pain away….

Sarah, thanks for clearing that up!

Katy’s master is feeling generous again. He captions a pretty picture thusly:

This is katy’s lovely butt after I spanked her. I don’t remember the exact occasion but, judging by the preponderance of marks on her right side, I’m guessing I was standing to her left.

Now we see why she loves him so!