Spanking Blog: Adult Erotic Spanking At Its Best

I got a nice letter from Luray, who wrote in to share her New Years
Eve spanking ritual:

Well, I’ve never written you before, but I do love your site. I discovered my
love for spanking at a young age, and a few years ago I found a loving man
who was willing to use it to keep me in line. (God do I love him.) When I read
the 12 days of spankings posted on the blog I thought I would share our New
Years Eve tradition.

Through out the year I am required to keep a journal of
all the offenses I have been punished for. It is a rather detailed account of
each spanking, why I received it, what was used, how many swats I received,
and so on and so forth. Well, on new years eve I kneel before my love and read
each spanking story to him. When I have finished he takes me over my knee and
spanks me one last time for each offense. With each swat I am required not
only to count but to name the offense that it is for, to apologize for my
offense, and to thank him for the spanking.

So far this year my journal has
almost a spanking for every week. I will receive 51 spankings as a final
payment for my offenses and then and only then will I be able to start the
new year with a clean slate, not to mention a red bottom. It is a loving
experience, but also shameful to have to remember all the things I did that
caused him disappointment. I love this “judgement” day.

Feel free to post this. I think every one should do it. It really is a
freeing experience.

Thanks, Luray!

Ah, the dubious pleasures of agrarian life. Here we have a young farmer’s wife being birched over a barrel for shirking her labors at the cider press:

I can hear the lecture all too well: “What’s that? You don’t want to turn the cider press? Well, you like to drink the cider well enough….”

I’d say the art is probably by Paula Meadows.

See Also:

• Caning Paula Meadows
• Pussy Whipping Art
• Whipped by Knights
• Sweet Ass, Birched In Public
• A Medieval Public Birching

She explains:

Maybe it’s like Thomas Hardy said about the Titanic and the iceberg… when my ass was formed, the Immanent Will of the universe formed the cane to be its sinister mate. It certainly jars two hemispheres.

I’m pleased to discover that the last post inspired some serious holiday spanking. Majesty’s wench reports:

Majesty wore me out yesterday morning before He went to work. I had asked Him if He would beat me on New Years Eve (ringing in the New Year, setting the tone, you know?) and He asked if anyone was awake. When I said no, He told me He would beat me right then. Well, I wasn’t ready to be beaten right then, and told Him. Which only made Him more determined to do it. I didn’t protest over-much though (not enough to make Him angry with me), took my position on the bed and presented my bottom to Him. He used the tawse on me, and He was not nice with it. I asked Him the other day if He could make pretty stripes like those on the ‘well oiled girl’ on SpankBoss’s site, and He said then that I couldn’t take it, to which I replied that I thought I could. So, yesterday morning, He was of the mind to find out whether I could or not. I squirmed some, and moved some, and squealed some, but I took it. Then I told Him I was mad at Him for being mean. I was being petulant. But He fixed it, and I was OK. Now I can’t wait for Him to tear me up again, only worse this time. I seriously am confusing, I think.

All I can say is “Pictures! We want pictures!” {evil grin}

A hunting fantasy from IsisOasis:

I run away, but it is in vain, i am severely handicapped by being barefoot and bound, He knows i wont get far. He is teasing me. He wants it to last. My feet and legs get scratched by brambles and stones in my way, my feet become cold and numb, knees muddy. Each time i fall over, He waits for me to get up and stumble on. He is the predator with strength and arrogance to show no mercy.I am the prey of his desire, defenceless and vulnerable. In the end – exhausted – I want to be caught.

Then i am there on my knees and He has hold of my hair, pulling my head back, looking down into my face with superiority and lust. He drags me to a pile of damp leaves – his only concession to my welfare – and still up on my knees, makes me bend over with my forehead on the ground. Commands me not to move – i cannot see what He is doing.

He is getting something out of His belt and i make out that it is a horsewhip. I know that my buttocks and thighs shall be punished for running away. I shall be disciplined to make me obey and to give Him pleasure in watching me writhe in pain with each lash of the whip

Mmmm, now where did I park my horse?

OK, a one-horse open sleigh this ain’t, but the dashing through the snow part is right, and I can almost hear the sleigh bells jingling merrily on the thigh straps of these delicious draft animals. Not to mention the hearty “KRA-ACK!” of that carriage whip zinging in to encourage lagging sleigh-pony girls to greater efforts….

A merry Christmas indeed.

Christmas 2012 update: I found a cleaner, larger version of the artwork and (if you click through) you can see the artist’s signature is “Turk”.

See Also:

• Naughty Elf In The Corner
• Spanked By Santa
• More Christmas Spankings

So, a young couple were making passionate love in the guy’s van
(you know, shag carpets, big double mattress in the back…
all that) when suddenly the girl, being a bit on the kinky
side, yells out “Oh big boy, whip me, whip me!”

The guy, not wanting to pass up this unique opportunity,
obviously did not have any whips to hand, but in a flash of
inspiration, he opens the window, snaps the aerial off his
van and proceeds to whip the girl six ways from Sunday,
until she collapses in an orgasmic pile of endorphins.

About a week later, the girl notices that the marks left by
the whipping session are starting to fester a bit so she
goes to the doctor. The doctor takes one look at the wounds
and asks, “Did you get these marks having sex?”

The girl is a little embarrassed but admits that, yes, she did.

Nodding his head knowingly the doctor exclaims, “I thought
so, because in all my years of doctoring…

(wait for it)

.

.

.

…you’ve got the worst case of van aerial disease that I’ve
ever seen!”