book djbnovellas2_500

book djbnovellas2_200This three volume box set with over 92,000 words features the previously published novellas by DJ Black: Tamed by the Cossack; The Sheikh and the Discipline of the Desert; and The Lord and the Librarian is out now.

Please be aware that these stories have been previously published.

TAMED BY THE COSSACK: Princess Sofia is beautiful, tempestuous, and spoiled. As the harsh winter sets in, her father, Prince Molotov, forbids her to leave the castle. She disobeys him, sneaking out with the horse sleigh into the snow-covered forest for one last wilful adventure. It is the woodsman, Ivan Ivanov, who discovers her tracks, and when he comes upon her, finds her stranded after the sleigh has turned over. Ivan is not impressed by her rudeness, and he spanks her until she apologises. Then he turns his attention to the immediate problem, for the weather has turned, and Sofia will not be able to return to Castle Molotov. As the wolves close in and the storm rages, they eventually reach the sanctuary of Ivan’s hut – a simple dwelling, nothing like the grand castle Sofia is accustomed to. Her demands are met with little sympathy, and once again she finds herself spanked, then made to stand in the corner.

And so begins her relationship with this man of lowly rank, for there is to be no return to Castle Molotov until the Spring when the snows begin to thaw. As the days pass, an unspoken love develops between them. In spite of his rough ways, she feels safe and secure with Ivan – even though he always deals with her bad behaviour in the traditional way. When Spring finally arrives, Sofia feels desolate, but how can she tell Ivan she would prefer to remain with him? Resignedly, she is escorted back home, where her father, acutely aware that her reputation has been irreparably damaged, marries her off to the ageing Count Dvorsky. But after the wedding ceremony and before the marriage is consummated, the party is attacked on route to the count’s home. The count is killed, and Sofia is taken captive and thrown into a dungeon.

Prince Molotov and his men, including Ivan, search for the captured princess, but it is Ivan who saves her – for which he is richly rewarded with a title and a beautiful new wife…

THE SHEIKH & THE DISCIPLINE OF THE DESERT: Journalist Megan will go to any lengths for a story, which is how she finds herself driving through blistering heat with the intelligent and handsome Ahmed – who also happens to be Sheikh Ahmed, an Arabian prince. But Megan isn’t only interested in Ahmed’s solar engineering project, she wants to determine what impact it will have on the desert and its people. Keen to see more, she persuades Ahmed to let her take a closer look at the desert – on the back of a camel. Unfortunately, Megan soon messes up, disobeys orders and gets lost. She subsequently finds that Ahmed takes pleasure in dispensing justice by putting her over his knee and spanking her, and also learns that riding on a camel with a freshly spanked bottom is no fun at all.

Later, Ahmed tells Megan she to stay in the hotel until he returns. She ignores his advice and ventures out, hoping to glean some inside knowledge on the women of the East for a Pulitzer-winning story. Unfortunately, she gets into a whole heap of trouble and is arrested. Once again it is Ahmed who rescues her, but his honour demands that he carry out her sentence of corporal punishment to the full. As time passes, the feisty reporter (who manages to get herself into one scrape after another) and the Arabian Prince fall in love. However, their respective cultures are vastly different and there seems to be little chance of a permanent relationship, especially given the disapproval of Ahmed’s grandfather.

But maybe love will find a way…?

THE LORD AND THE LIBRARIAN: Rowan Greenway applies for and is invited to take up a post as Librarian to Lord Merlin Collden at his castle perched on the border between England and Wales. It is a ‘Finding Year’ in Lord Collden’s mysterious domain, and Rowan has found her way to the castle where Lord Collden watches and waits, making allowances for now for her modern attitudes. When Lord Collden reveals an ancient secret, Rowan takes fright and escapes, only to run into new dangers at The Citadel. She is pursued by Lord Collden, who is determined to make her his bride.

This is the first book in The Prophecy Trilogy. It is a tale of romance and self discovery and submission. It is also a tale of eroticism, passion, magic and mystery, interspersed with such activities as spanking and paddling, caning and flogging, strapping and birching, and whippings in the pillory – for this place and all its secrets is caught between different eras and ways of life.



Hi just a quickie this week.

I aw Vanilla Spanking had a post on Community (US TV show that features a switching) and a couple of nice pictures, including a nude of Carol Lynley, a professional Hollywood Brat from the 1950s and 60s (also spanked above).

Other pictures found at Devlin, Contemporary Spanking, and the Annex.


Vintage Sunday




! ! ! Governess16

The correspondence began here.

My Dear Miss Carlisle,

That little witch Mary has not given me so much as a glance that would suggest that she has the least inkling about our arrangement. As for Miss Dandridge, I shall never be able to look her in the eye again. My face burns more even than another place, and that is quite saying something.

You will be glad to know that I can at last sit somewhat, if with the aid of a well place pillow, for a time anyway. I did not bother to hide the seating aid from Mary and indeed requested that she bring it to the dining room.

“On account of your… lumbago,” she asked, the cheeky minx.

To change the conversation… I am apprehensive to hear about my ‘next time’ and wonder what possible alternative arrangement you could have to church. Not that I am protesting, anything but those pews.

I look forward to seeing you on Thursday.

Yours Amelia


My Dear Miss Carlisle,

So lovely to see you yesterday and I am so glad that the morning passed without incident.

I did notice that Mary kept looking at you with a mix of respect and awe. I am quite sure now that she knows about our arrangement, which puts her in an entirely new light for me, since but for what you said in your last letter and her gazes in your direction, I would never deduce that she knew anything. I hope she remains discreet.

I did not ask and you gave nothing away about our next more formal meeting. Perhaps you are happy with my behaviour so far? I scarce dare venture to ask.

For the time being I am happy to hear about your progress with Ruth. I did not understand before that your lack of discussion was on account of professional discretion towards the Compton’s. I am so happy that they consider me a friend and indebted to me for making the introductions and therefore you now feeling able to confide in me.

If it hadn’t been for Mary continually offering us more tea I think you may have said more, or please do tell me again about your dramatic confrontation with our Miss Compton.

Did she really tell you that her father was dispensing with your services and refuse point blank to come to the schoolroom you furnished for her? I cannot believe that she would not realise that you would confront him about such a change, even if just to obtain your last remuneration. Her tantrum and retreat to her room following the exposure of her lie is quite incredible.

I can see you know as you ascended the stairs hairbrush in hand to do you grim and necessary work. I can almost see Sir John’s thunderous face and Lady Eugenia wringing her hands in despair. Once gaining Ruth’s room with her father’s house keys did you really wash her mouth out with soap? I my gosh how childishly humiliating. The spanking I do not need to imagine, but stripping her down almost naked for a second spanking is so amusing. You said she finally agreed to stand in the corner with her hands on top of her head while maids came and went to clean up some mess. What mess I wonder? Do you mean the soap? However did you get her to agree meekly to such treatment; great deal of spanking no doubt? I hope I do not pry?

However, amid all of this and as severe as her spanking might have been, well may I venture that for such a crime as hers that perhaps you were a tad too gentle with her? Oh dear, I sound judgemental; I do hope you won’t spank me for it. But last weekend I was dealt with most harshly, and rightly so. But was my crime so much worse than hers? I mean I did not perpetrate and deliberate falsehoods and my sins did not attempt to rob you of your position.

I fear I have said too much. I truly believe you know your business. My discourse is entirely based on curiosity.

Yours truly and faithfully,


To be continued…



Head over to the Spanking Emporium friend of this blog, Asa Jones, has a lot going on. Above are a couple of shots from his original spanking shoots. But this month he has featured not one, not two, but several spanking drawing posts like those also above.

Ronnie has some links to spanking sites and blogs for you to enjoy.

Other images were found at: Contemporary Spanking, Dallas, AAA and the Chicago Spanking Review.

Reality Bites


Bardot Reality Bites OTK
Some time ago I corresponded with a woman who made and sold BDSM furniture, among many other accomplishments. She lived in a compound with in a polyamorous relationship with her partner(s) with part-time and full time slaves; she quite a tale to tell. I won’t tell it here as I have no reason to assume that her story was for public consumption and I have since lost touch with her.

But recently I read an account of a totally up front woman with seemingly boundless confidence who was very much cut from the same mould.

Tammy was 24 when she went to work for Madeline a 40-something property developer.

She wrote, “I was totally in awe of Madeline when I met her, she seemed everything I wanted to be. Her clothes, her confidence, her beauty, well I felt awkward next to her. When she offered me a job as an executive assistant and trainee developer I jumped at the chance. The money was good and she even advanced me a small loan to buy a good car.”

“She made it clear from the get go that she was a spanker and that if I messed up she would give a bare bottom spanking that would make me cry. She was absolutely clear about the last part. She also said it was okay to screw up as that was how we learned, she almost hoped I would as she liked spanking and she told me I had a good ass for it.”

“When I signed the agreement I thought it wouldn’t actually happen, I wasn’t even sure it was legal, but if it came to it I wondered how bad could it be?”

The story gets long and involved and mostly dwells on her brilliant career over the next few weeks. Then she meets Carrie, a girl who either is or isn’t Madeline’s girlfriend. Tammy is jealous anyway. Until…

“When I arrived I saw Carrie’s car and my heart sank. I thought I would get some alone time with Madeline about the project and what a project. Carrie was always bitching about something and turning up when it was obvious Madeline was expecting her. I still didn’t know their exact relationship, but then that was Madeline all over.”

“The house was a bit run down, but big, I mean really big with these really cool big windows with great views over the valley. I could see the potential. Then I saw the bags and Carrie’s dumb trademark coat just lying on the floor. I heard the yelling before I had gotten through the door.”

“When I found them I couldn’t believe my eyes. Carrie was sprawled over Madeline’s lap with her denims and panties tangled around her ankles. Madeline was going at her bare butt with a big old brush and man was that girl’s ass real red. Carrie was yelling and mouthing off, crying a bit too, while Madeline was yelling back about how she had had enough. Neither saw me for a minute and when they did Madeline just grinned. Carrie on the other hand went maniac and screamed that I should get out. Madeline told me to stay.”

“After that Carrie bawled like a little kid and her bottom was about as dark red and marked up as I have ever seen, well I had never actually seen a spanked butt before but this was out there.”

“At this point I hadn’t been spanked so I was surprised how long the spanking lasted. Also by Carrie’s reaction, I mean after the yelling, she went all quiet and just cried as she said sorry. It was a total attitude change. She was so wigged out when Madeline made her stand in the corner, in full view of one of those big windows yet. Carrie went like a lamb.”

“It was about three weeks later that I finally screwed up big time. I knew I was for it when Madeline met me at her office with that big brush in her hand. She says, ‘remember what happened to Carrie?’”

“I nodded dumbly.”

“You going to give me any trouble?”

“I kind of gulped and shook my head. Then she put the brush down and laid out my mistakes and what we had to do to sort it. Among some other stuff I had put 2011 on some lisense applications instead of 2012. I was totally busted.”

“You agreed, she said and picked up the brush again. I nodded and when she told me I took down my own pants and let her take across her knee. I was curious about it, but not that curious. My panties came down anyway and the she let me have it.”

“I can’t really describe the rest. It hurt real bad, worse than I thought and even when I begged and bawled she took no notice. I was spanked for maybe 20 minutes, maybe more. Then she put me in the corner for a long cry. I spent the afternoon bare below the waist making calls to various people to make application amendments or apply for fresh documents. I was so embarrassed, but Madeline smiled and said I had a good butt.”

“That was not the last time she spanked me, it happened a lot after that, but usually I had it coming. I even got to see Carrie spanked again. I know now that Carrie is kind of a professional brat that Madeline ‘adopted.’ She has another girlfriend, not me sadly, I am just the well spanked assistant. My own girlfriend thinks I am totally mad, but the money is good and I kind of want it I guess.”

Story edited from several contributions on FemForum.


! ! ! Governess15

The correspondence began here.

Dear Amelia,

I am so glad you benefited from our little talk on Saturday and the quite through and necessary operation that followed. I do hope you remember that the very exacting lesson I wanted you to learn was that if you are set a sanction or a restriction when in disgrace then it must be adhered to precisely and without either rancour nor rebellious prevarication.

It has troubled me that I compromised over going to church, but I felt and still feel that your innocent distress was unsuitable to be inflicted upon others, especially at their devotions and that our disciplinary endeavours would only have been a distraction.

I have pondered on the matter and I have a solution for next time.

How are you sitting today by the way? Not well I hope. I pride myself that when I promise that a girl won’t sit for a week then it will come to pass. Although I did not quite say that as I recall. Be wary when I do.

Years ago when I was training for my chosen profession there was a giddy girl in our little group who met every Wednesday afternoon to take tea and compare notes. She was so proud of the tender little slaps she applied to hr charges bottoms and much given to the threat that they would not sit down for a week if they did such and such a thing. This was clearly such a ridiculous posture to take that it irked many of us. So one day arming getting our group together and arming ourselves with a stout hairbrush we too the silly girl to one side and turning up her skirts we bared her pretty little bottom for a very sound spanking until she was not only red a sorry, but she admitted her folly.

I was of course the leader in this operation and went as far to promise her a good sound birching if she ever again uttered the empty threat in our presence. She did of course but that is another story.

By the way, Miss Dandridge was quite clearly amused at our meeting and I am quite sure she knew what we were about. You were so humble of demeanour and unable to meet her eyes that I cannot doubt that she could not but know.

As for Mary, do you not consider that she is well used to matters of the rod given her age and occupation. Why do great ladies think so little of the sense of those they employ? Who do you think cleared up the scatterings of the rod or fetched up the buckets to steep them in?

As for tea on Thursday, I would love to come, perhaps then I will be ready to tell you more of the progress with Ruth.

Yours truly,

Jane Carlisle

To be continued…

Vintage Sunday


vin 1 1-2vin 1 5-2vin 1 13-18-4


! ! ! Governess14a

The correspondence began here.

Dear Miss Carlisle,

As I write this I am standing at my writing desk pen in one hand while the other cannot but stray to my behind where my skirts still chafe me. If it wasn’t for the Mary I would be risk the indecorous state of doing without my draws or even leave my skirts pinned up as you did on Sunday.

Last night I had to resort to having to stand at the mantelpiece over the fire in the small drawing room while I took supper. Mary was most confused and I had to claim lumbago. I think she was more surprised that I wore little but a housecoat over my loosest night gown, but since it was evening I felt decorum would just allow it.

Although you did not ask it of me I am writing to thank you for relenting when I asked to beg off church. I could no more have sat at my pew than flown to the moon and containing my tears or standing still at the back was quite beyond me. I fear it has been too long since I was so thoroughly chastised, although no doubt you think it needful.

Saturday afternoon was quite a trial, who knew that a simple childish smack bottom could hurt so. Well I did I suppose, from our life before, but I had forgotten. It was quite humbling to have ones skirts and petticoats turned up one by one until ones intimate parts are exposed to the ceiling.

Your hand stung my bare bottom so but that was nothing to the bite of the hairbrush which chewed and burned at me sometime after. It occurred to me that it had almost been futile to dismiss Mary for the afternoon as my heartfelt cries should have been heard in the village anyway. But seriously I do hope the windows were closed as I had forgotten about the gardener.

The spanking was sound and well deserved, although I did cry so. I would tell you how red my bottom was, but as I recall you saw that well enough when as promised you set me in the corner for the best part of the rest of the afternoon.

Nor had the ache subsided overmuch when you roused me at dawn for our excursion to the woods. I had forgotten how humbling it is to have ones skirts and petticoats pinned up to the waist and to be quite exposed bare behind to the world as one walks the dewy lanes. Thank the heavens that it was Sunday and no one was about at that time. I suspect you cared little about that and would say that my shame and humility were well deserved.

Had it not been for our hopes for church, no doubt too you would have had me wear less as in former days when I was marched out to the fields in little more than my shortest shift.

The gathering of thin wands of hazel, apple and birch was a grim parody of days spent picking wild flowers; I had forgotten how tummy twisting the apprehension is. Not to mention the added terror that at any moment we might be discovered and our purpose, my shame and so very bare bottom would exposed to a stranger’s eyes; still worse a friend or neighbour or perhaps the servant of such. Oh how they would gossip.

When we chanced upon Miss Dandridge gathering wild herbs in Denver’s Copse I nearly died. I thought you would burst with amusement as I tried to keep my aspect facing forward so that she would not guess what we were about. Thank heaven she did not dawdle.

Once back at the house the making of the rods came flooding back, but it only then occurred to me that Mary was up and about and might discover us at any minute, clever of you though to have pre-prepared rods, and so many.

Luckily the house is so large and my late father-in-law’s study so far from the kitchen. As I lay bent over the Ottoman I wonder how I would have looked with my bare bottom so upwardly exposed if Mary had of come to investigate the noise.

Oh the noise.

The thrash of the rods in the air and then finding its target was nothing to my screams. I must apologise for my cowardice. But you have no idea of the searing burn of those wicked hateful withes. I was sure my skin was quite cut off or at least melted. The tiny grazing and blisters are something to behold even now.

I did not count the strokes or the number of times you change rods. At the ending of each set I suppose, but my senses were not equal to notice.

Were there three sets of strokes or perhaps more? I know there were no less. I know too that the stroke count could be numbered in dozens at each turn of my thrashing. How my bottom boiled and blistered. It is no wonder that I cannot sit down, nor will I for a day or two. Justice I suppose, and honour requires I thank you. I think I neglected to do so amid my tears on Sunday?

I am quite fatigued but strangely cleansed still. Perhaps you will take tea with me on Thursday?

Yours humbly and obediently,


To be continued…



This week I haven’t caught up with too many articles and some blogs haven’t updated for a while. There is some great new material from the professionals out there, remember buying stuff supports the community. There are links to some good ones on the right under the main links box.

There is as ever a good article on Vanilla Spanking about the pitfalls of spanking woth reference to movie spanking, father-son traditions and the law in Alabama. I have more on the rule-of-thumb for another day.

Other images were found at: AAA, Dallas, Devlin, Our Bottoms Burn, Oaks & Pines, Ronnie Soul, Contemporary Spanking andReal Spanking.


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