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Naked Protesters links to photos of homeless people having sex. One image in particular caught my eye: As a woman rides her man, another woman leans in and appears to be slapping or spanking her bottom.
I am delighted to report signs of life over at The Collar Purple. The Boss and Invidia are back!
Hmm, is that Hillary Clinton getting spanked?
The review copies of the caning DVDs arrived yesterday from Mood Pictures. Fun stuff. No time to write a review tonight, but soon.
It was fun to say “Doesn’t that look like fun, Bethie?” and have her immediately start squealing, hide her eyes from the TV, and start kissing me, all simultaneously.
Review to follow. I promise. However, it might be the weekend before I can get to it.
Irona’s latest post begins: “The cane is an efficient instrument of punishment, correction and pleasure. Highly efficient.”
Later she writes: “I love the precision of the cane, the sharply defined pain it delivers and the way it concentrates my mind and takes exclusive possession of me. I love the deceptive silence preceding the elegant “swish” before the impact.”
It’s not a long post, so you had better just go read it. The executive summary? She likes the cane almost as much as Danor does. Heh.
Here’s a quaint old-fashioned photo of an apprehensive maid presenting a quite serious-looking birch bundle for approval:
One can only wonder what she fears her punishment will be if the birch is not considered adequate.
Here’s a long story from the point of view of a young man somewhat implausibly invited to wield the paddle at a sorority initiation. Lots of humiliation and fairly ugly torture-ish hazing stuff happens later in the story, but there’s some good paddling fairly early on:
I looked at the paddle. It felt hefty in my hands. It was at least two and a half feet long, four inches wide and three quarters of an inch thick. Shit, I thought to myself, these girls don’t play around. On one side there was a big painted red heart and across it, the words, “To Audrey, My Big Sister. Love, Kim.”
Audrey snapped me out of my reverie. “You thank him for each one and ask him for another, Kimmy. Give her three hard swats. And I DO mean hard!” she snarled.
I grasped the paddle’s handle with both hands, stood to Kim’s left, and measured the distance. The girl’s short white skirt was drawn tight against her very vulnerable ass cheeks and I noticed the faint outline of some kind of underwear. I held the paddle an inch away from her ass and got set. Then I swung it back and up and brought it swiftly forward.
The room seemed to explode with sound as the hard, flat wood made contact with Kim’s firm, rounded butt. It was like hitting an inflated rubber inner tube: bouncy, but with a solid feeling of weight to it. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Paula jump, apparently startled by the loud “POP!” the paddle made on the girl’s ass. Kim lifted her head and emitted a breathy “Ohhhh…” She bent her left leg and her ass canted to the side a little.
“Thank you, sir, may I have another?” came Kim’s voice, low and breathy.
From Sorority Guest by Solstice.
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