Spanking Blog: Adult Erotic Spanking At Its Best

A little judicial punishment from the British Isles, as three rowdy young college ladies get the tawse and the cane from an entirely unsympathetic public employee:

I picked up the tawse, and moved to her left side. Holding the handle in my right hand, and the other end in my left, I draw my arms upwards, holding the tawse out before moving my left hand away and arcing it down across the her backside. She yelped — whether through the shock of the blow, or the pain that must by now be starting to radiate out across her behind, I didn’t know. I looked with satisfaction at the red outline that the tawse had formed — perfectly horizontal, right across the centre of her buttocks. Very good, I thought to myself: practice clearly does make perfect.

The other thing about the first stroke, of course, was the impact it would have on those waiting on the other side of the door. Up to that point, they had doubtless been straining to hear the conversation, wondering whether they would be in for a “workshop or a whipping”, as I termed it. Well, they would know now, all right.

I liked to deliver the second and third strokes in quick succession, aiming them directly on top of one another, below the first mark. With young Samantha, these were beauties, and she let out a cry of surprise as the third stroke descended. Her breathing was deep now – trying to keep control; trying not to give in to the ever-increasing pain.

I paused, making sure the effects of the previous strokes had had their full effect, and building the tension in the room as the girl braced herself for the next blow, not sure when it would land. And then: a beauty. Low down. Hard. Very satisfying: I do like the sound of the tawse as it cracks across its target. And a real sob from the young offender, as the blow struck home.

From Serving Her Majesty by Abel Jenkins.

See Also:

• Making Her Feel It
• The Tawse For A Tough Customer
• Punished At The Spanking Olympics
• Hard Tawse Spanking
• Punishing Her Hands

Here’s a submissive kneeling on the bed displaying her marks after her whipping:

Lovely!

For the most part on this blog I hide behind excerpts of other people’s writing, providing only snarky introductions and very thin snippets of commentary. Despite my interest in spanking and some other BDSM topics, the strange and complex ways people actually work these into their lives is often hard to understand. It’s always fascinating, but I don’t often have much to add.

Case in point: here’s an account of a spanking that takes place inside a relationship of obvious strength. Even though both parties clearly have desires that fall within the general realm of kink, it should come as no surprise that the typical human mismatch of desires and fetishes remains a problem. Love just ain’t easy, folks:

That evening, he promised me a spanking for leaving the house angry, although he was at the door yelling after me as I was huffily getting into the car – perspective, perspective. At bedtime, said spanking didn’t materialize.

I debated whether to mention it to him … torn between “I shouldn’t have to tell him!!” and “I really do want a spanking” and “heck, I don’t deserve a spanking, he was wrong!!!”, with the first choice resounding louder and louder in my head, but I did tell him and his response was laughter and what seemed like pity. I really didn’t like how that felt. He spanked me a few times, halfheartedly, it seemed, and afterwards made a comment about noise level. I snarkedly make a crack about closing the bedroom door and progressed to “it’s ok, you’re not really into discipline, I understand that.”. I didn’t mean it as manipulation, just a statement of “truth by shimmer”. But, it brought out the hairbrush for a few good hard smacks that left me resentedly excited, that sexual excitement that happens when your body betrays you, despite your resentful mindset. Master was aroused at my response to the brush and proceeded to use me sexually, thankfully allowing me to orgasm several times. It felt like release, pure and simple, and that was a good thing.

But the truth of the matter is that Master isn’t a disciplinarian. That’s not a judgement, it’s just a fact, it’s neither good nor bad. It just is. His desire is for me to obey him, without him having to enforce my obedience.

From this entry over at Shimmerings.

Halley Suitt wanted a blog spanking. What’s more, she deserved it and she planned to enjoy it.

So what did she do? She linked to some dumb ol’ book on Amazon instead of to me.

I’m crushed, simply crushed. *sob*

What’s that? Why, no, I…I don’t have any reason to think she knows I exist. Your point would be?

Here’s Emalee, the disturbingly cute mascot of the “Unholy Army of Catholic Schoolgirls“.

With her paddle by her side.

If you go to the site and click on her, you can go to a cool flash page where you can swap her into (and out of!) all sorts of outrageous outfits.

Alas, the paddle never moves.

And don’t forget, if you are a disturbed, punked out Catholic school girl, the Unholy Army wants YOU!

See Also:

• Hangdog Schoolgirls
• Spanking Those Big California Schoolgirls
• Girls School Lesbians, Punished

Here’s Roger Foxtrot going all caveman on the ass of his lovely, naked, and handcuffed wife Andy, while a jealous Paige looks on:

No doubt Paige is busily dreaming up some punishable teen mischief that will put her over Daddy’s knee….

Remember the Czech Easter whippings?

According to this, the whips are called “pomlazka” and look like this:

See Also:

• Easter Whippings For The Women