Community

18Sep19

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This week Ronnie has new spanking sites to check out and Vanilla Spanking explores daddy spanking in comics and the movies of yesteryear.

Speaking of movies I have also had some nice emails including one from Anthony on the 1966 movie Georgy Girl. He looked up the script and found two spanking references.

Middle-aged man played by James Mason talking to father of Georgina, the 22-year-old title character.

“I wanted to catch her.”
“Georgy? She’s nipped off.”
“By the look of it. If I were you, Ted, I’d take her across my knee, pull down her knickers and give her a good tanning.”
” Oh. She’s too big for that.”
“Yes. She always was. She’s like some enormous lorry driver.”
“She ought to be made to feel what she owes me.”
And…
(Bridegroom, played by Alan Bates, to bride, played by Charlotte Rampling, in the waiting room of the Registry Office)
“Look, if you don’t behave yourself, I’ll take your knickers down and give you such a belting you won’t sit down for a week.”

 

Other images are from: Devlin, Asa, Contemporary Spanking, AAA and Chicago Spanking.


A Little Busy

17Sep19

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I have been a little busy and I haven’t had time to develop a queue of work. However, I am now able to access my back-up files and story treatments, old images and memorabilia. It will take me a while to sort through it and organise it.


Vintage Sunday

15Sep19

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The Seal

13Sep19

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The ever changing sea was grey green with patches of deep blue. Here and there were small waves forming transient triangles of black that vanished even as she watched them. To the untrained eye they might have been the fins of dolphins or basking sharks and Perdita strained a hopeful gaze in case this proved to be the case.

As she stood on the cliff the wind lifted her fire red hair into a beacon of flame as if signalling a distant ship. Then it settled back to her shoulders in lose curls and she brushed a lock from her eyes. Nothing today, she pouted, and crinkled up her nose in disappointment.

Perdita knew she should go back and that Anthony would be waiting. It was a rule they had and she felt a small tumble of nerves in her tummy as she remembered. She looked at her watch and then to the path that led to their house at the top of the village. Tea and a caramel cookie were inviting around then and she nearly turned. But the sea too was calling, now speckled in white caps as if shoals of fish or great whales had turned over in the water. Then she saw the seal.

The small dog-like head bobbed nonchalantly in the cove below and she thrilled. For a moment it was gone only to remerge a few yards to the right. The tide was turning and a fresh rush of current would be rich with food for her little friend.

Perdita drew the patchwork poncho around her shoulders, an autumnal cloak of reddish browns and mustard to hold off the breeze. She knew then that she would be late. Below her the seal danced with the waves, but if it sang she would not hear it from her place on the cliffs, the creatures call to her was a silent one.

“Beautiful isn’t it,” said a voice.

Perdita turned and saw a man watching the seal below. He wore a leather hat and sported a greying beard that made him look like a wizard. Just her type, she thought, he reminded her of Anthony, only older. She turned back to the seal. “Yes,” she agreed, “Cheeky too,” she added as the seal bobbed up and scanned the ocean for titbits.

“There is a colony along the coast, one of the largest,” the man continued.

She knew that and nodded. “Yes,” she said.

The man continued to explain his knowledge and she wished he would shut up.

“You live around here?” she put in.

“No, just visiting,” he sighed, “You?”

“Not far,” she smiled, and then glanced back at the seal.

The man nodded and finally sensing he was intruding gestured goodbye and moved away.

“I am late little friend,” she whispered to the seal, but made no move to go. In fact she watched the mystic mammal until it finally danced away.

Perdita looked out to sea to where green grey gave way to blue and sighed.

*

The cottage was large, a house really, the kind that perhaps should have been thatched and most of the rooms had low beams with stone fire places retaining their 18th century ironwork. It was all the more welcoming because Anthony had set a fire in the main room and the house smelled of autumn and wood smoke.

The man himself sat in a large leather armchair by the fire reading a book. The heavy hand knitted jersey complimented his heavy upper frame the cream an echo of his hair where dark and white struggled for dominance. These days the latter was most definitely winning.

Without looking up he said, “You’re late.”

Perdita swallowed hard and let out a slow breath. She didn’t speak.

Inclining his head he swivelled his smiling cool blue eyes towards her, while his mouth held fast to a hard line.

“There was a seal,” she said.

“Does that negate the rules?” Anthony asked.

Perdita rolled her eyes sideways and bit her lower lip.

“No, but…” she began.

“You are almost an hour late,” he said sternly.

“You are not going to spank me,” she told him. She knew this was a lie. There were rules and she had broken one of them.

“Is that right?” he almost laughed.

“Yes,” she pouted, but she sounded like a little girl.

This was no game. Years before they had gone through a tempestuous time; there had been fights. Intermittent spankings had always ended in bed, but Perdita had always dug in her heels. This was the 21st century. He had had no right to spank her, not really.

“What if you agree?” he had argued.

“I won’t though will I? Not at the time,” she had countered.

“You don’t have to agree at the time,” Anthony had replied.

“What do you mean?” There was hope and she wanted it more than anything.

“We could have rules,” Anthony had suggested.

It had taken a while, but over time they had worked out and agreed the rules. She could do what she liked, but if she broke the rules there would be consequences.

“You are not going to spank me,” she said defiantly, “There was a seal. It doesn’t count.”

“Once I have dealt with you we can discuss adding that to the rules,” Anthony chuckled.

“No… we can make the seal part of the rules now,” she stuck out her lower lip.

Anthony sighed. This called for the clothes brush in the hall. He stood up and she took a nervous step backwards.

“W-what are you… where?” she stuttered and backed up some more.

Anthony didn’t reply and went into the hall.

“You are not going to spank me,” she yelled after him. A little too loud perhaps; it was a good job they had no immediate neighbours.

When Anthony returned he held the brush and hefted it so that he could slap the palm of his hand.

“Now listen,” she said as she tried to sound confident. “I am… that is… Tony, Tony… just a minute…”

Anthony moved casually but fast and had taken hold of her upper arm. Nothing she could do slowed him as he led her to the sofa and before she could frame another protest she was tumbled readily across his lap as she sat down.

“Tony, it was a seal, you know…” she blurted.

“You were almost an hour late,” he said sternly.

“I know but…” Then she swallowed. Her skirt was the loose kind and he had lifted it easily. She wondered if he liked her knickers, an odd thought under the circumstances. “Tony,” she shrieked as this underwear went south and he bared her bottom.

“Look okay… maybe I… but not that brush… please,” she protested.

He patted her bare bottom with the flat surface of the clothes brush.

“Ow,” she said at this stingy tap.

“I haven’t started yet,” he chuckled.

“This is so… oh you… hmmm,” Perdita spluttered.

The brush landed with a sharp impact and her eyes flew open in surprise. She was still processing the sting when another spank caught her on the lower curves of her bottom.

“Ah-uh,” she panted, ending with a pained, “shish. That hurt.”

“Really,” he said and spanked her again hard.

The sharp crack had a tang to it and there was a slight back echo. Perdita bucked and twisted, kicking her heels like a movie heroine. Angry growls and splutters were stopped at her lips as she tried not to give him the satisfaction.

Anthony studied the smooth curves of her bare bottom and saw that a red sheen had been planted on her flesh. He spanked her thrice more in quick succession and then again. At each impact she twisted and kicked, but only a muted mewling escaped her lips. Her behind was really quite red now.

“I hope you are learning your lesson,” he chided and spanked twice more and hard.

“Ah,” she yelped, this time feeling. “I didn’t do anything,” she protested.

“What was that?” he asked sharply.

“I… was only a bit late,” she placated.

“If you mention that seal again then I will put you in the corner at half time,” he told her.

She hated, hated, hated, corner time. Then his words sunk in. “Half time, we must be finished,” she wailed.

He laughed and spanked her soundly for a long volley and enjoyed her bucking and the hint of tears on her contorted face. The latter he saw in a series of head turns as she pleaded with her eyes.

“Please, I’m sorry,” she said miserably.

Her bottom sang with the song of a billion bees and under the graze-like burn the beginnings of a deep dull ache threatened to unseat her for a day or two.

“That’s better,” he soothed, “Now let’s make this take.”

Her body wriggled in protest as she tried in vain to escape his iron grip, but the brush found her bottom again and the sting made her face crinkle in pain.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she bawled, her eyes now leaking.

“Why are you sorry?” he asked sternly.

“I was late,” she sniffed.

“Why are you sorry?” he asked again.

“I broke the rules,” she replied in a quiet voice,

“Was I right to spank you?”

“Yes Sir.”

“Then I think we are done,” he sighed and put down the brush.

Perdita rolled around in his lap and curled up to face him. The hug said it was over and the pervasive heat in her bottom felt good. Not that she would ever admit that.

“Do I have to go to the corner,” she asked childishly.

“No,” he smiled, “But you can tell me about the seal.”

She giggled and bounced up and down excitedly. “Do you think it will be there tomorrow?”

1 seal


Community

12Sep19

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Things are really busy at the moment and then yesterday my new PC decided to a mega update before work. So this is a day late.

I have had time to write a short story, so watch this space.

My main focus is still on restoring my back-up and my old stories and files – including current ongoing series, which were all in the planning stage. I reckon there might be two or three thousand words of actual stories lost if I can’t get back in. Not too bad.

Meanwhile I noticed that Vanilla Spanking had run a pretty comprehensive exploration of all those comic book spankings since WWII.

Other images are from Devlin, Stan and Contemporary Life.


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Hi all. I was just working through various PC issues and realised that I have followers and likes. I knew that of course, but never really thought about what it meant.

Followers and Likes are apparently very important to a blog’s standing and I probably should follow the links back and like and follow in return? Thank you to everyone who likes and follows, if I have been ignoring all the liking and following protocols is because it has never been part of my world and I don’t live it permanently plugged into the web.

The wife thinks I am a dinosaur, but I have you know (and her) that I was building websites for phones way back in 1995 and have been on email since 1987. Okay, yeah, I am a dinosaur.

There will be stories soon.


Vintage Sunday

08Sep19

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A new crop of sorority sisters brings a new crop of sorority paddles. The colleges and sororities themselves continue to deny that these paddles ever get used and we be can sure that this is true, for the most part.

Yet every year sorority girls past and present come forward with an alternative version of events.

Not so long ago I had a conversation with some former American frat boys at a soiree in London. They were all in their 20s and recently out of college for internships in the UK. Then some English wag made a joke about paddles. Seeing blank faces he quickly jumped in to say he was joking and he knew that it was all a myth.

Two of the men exchanged uncomfortable but knowing glances and one of them made a non-committal gesture and said hesitantly, “Well…”

Nothing more was said but the inference was clear. It is not entirely a myth. So in this age of equality what goes for the goose…

Here is a case in point. Former sorority girl Jo, contributed two comments here back in July.

I just stumbled across this and thought I would comment.

I am not sure what all the fuss is about with spanking and sororities. It happens and IMHO sometimes it makes your average BDSM club look tame. I mean consent can be borderline. But at the last word it is a girl’s choice.

I joined my sorority back in the noughties and didn’t really know what I was getting into. First pledging out we were rousted into the gym shower block and stripped naked – hosed down cold – and then bent over to be warmed up with paddles. There were a lot of tears and a lot of very red bottoms. Believe me I would not have joined had I known – but I am very glad I did. That is the point – my sisters took me out of my comfort zone and even though I went through the mill it was the first real adventure of my life.

It was sadistic at times (I will admit that as an enthusiastic spanker when my time came) it was sexual (I don’t believe the denials I read about) it was character building and above it was fun (mainly).

We had a lot of pointless rules where it was impossible not to get some pretty heavy hazing – I had a great big sis but she totally took advantage of my attempts to duck out of housekeeping and standards. She paddle my bare butt red raw with bruises and blisters. I begged and cried for real for real – wowie – but I never hated or resented her. It wasn’t all brutal (hardly ever in fact) but the psychological turmoil made me stronger and ultimate more sexually aware. That is not to say that I had some pretty sore bottom at times – I once stood at the back of the lecture hall after a spanking because I could actually sit down.

I could say more – you never feel as close to someone when you are bent over getting your butt beat alongside her; or over the knee of a big or with a little over yours.

I know this sounds kind of contradictory but mostly it was played for laughs with everyone playing their part. Somewhere more into it than others, so my experience might have been harsher than some others, mainly because I could take it and the last word was I wanted it.

I hope I haven’t said anything out of turn.

Jo xx

 

And in reply to other comments:

I suppose I could say a lot more – even my comment here has reminded me of incidents and things I had almost forgotten.

I once stuffed my laundry into my wardrobe so it looked as if I had cleaned up. My Big had me bare butt and bending over the bed with the door open while she paddled me in front of two other sisters. I had to ask real nice for her close the door and agree that if she did the spanking would begin over.

After that I had to my laundry and hers dressed in just a shirt that barely covered my red butt. Needless to say I waited until midnight before I did the washing.

Another time my big and I called on another big/little to find little over Big’s lap really getting a bare bottom spanking like an errant teen. She really took her time too.

Tony – we had a Hell Week by name – although that turned out to be more tradition than actual. There was a striptease on first Sunday night and then we were ‘judged’ for our figures and marked out of 10. It was humiliating and designed to put us on edge for what turned out to be an otherwise standard week. The real hazing came the following Friday of Hell week (so that was Hell Night, but we didn’t know) lots of paddle, lots of stuff… I guess I shouldn’t go into details. On Saturday we thought we had to do a stage act for the sisters – singing or stand up – but it was just a joke and the whole thing turned into a party. Some paddling over clothes and a line-up of outgoing pledges for one last token hazing – an anti-climax really.

But our sorority paddled and not just pledges – all kinds of stunts wound up with some paddle fun even after pledging. I was spanked twice by my big for goofing off even after being pinned and there was a lot of private stuff, if you know what I mean. I don’t think our sorority was typical – but nor was it unique. The whole thing is just more underground than in the past.

Jo x

 

No doubt there are others out there with similar stories.


Community

05Sep19

Still playing catch-up. I haven’t accessed my archives yet but at least now I can write posts, including stories. If I have to rewrite outlines then ongoing stories may take a while.

Meanwhile here are some images found on diverse other blogs, including: Devlin, Spanking Blog, Spanking Blogg, Grumpy Old Fart, Contemporary Life, Spanking Emporium and Au Fils… links on right, I will hot link these if I get a chance.


Sorry for the paltry posts of the last few weeks – basically the whole of August. It didn’t help that I was away for two weeks and only yesterday got a new PC up and running. I still don’t have my files or archives, but they still might be retrievable. If not then there will be some lost work. This will mostly be outlines and treatments for new and ongoing stories, which will mean a delay for In the Service of the Wolf at least.

It will still take a few days for me to get back into regular post in any case.




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