The correspondence began here.

Dear Amelia,

Your enthusiasm does you credit and when I have time to reply in detail I will do so, although I rather suspect that we will meet again before I have time to commit my reply to paper.

I will be happy to enlighten you regarding the switch and the ways that it is applied in the colonies, although I doubt that you will much enjoy the lesson. I will however save that for a future time as when next we meet I have other methods to demonstrate.

In your last missive you suggested that Ruth’s spanking lasted over an hour. I hardly think so, that would be an heroic undertaking for both of us. Such a feat can and has been done, but not on such an inexperienced posterior. I think you will find that a prolonged spanking only seems like it lasts an hour, especially from the point of view of the recipient. Incidentally, being sent to the corner has a similar effect on the mind for all concerned.

Yours

Jane Carlisle.

to be continued…


Vintage Sunday

12Jul20

Just Because..

11Jul20

Community

08Jul20

Vanilla Spanking has a feature on Young Adam, a 2003 mainstream movie starring Ewan McGegor. I remember seeing at the time, it is a quirky indie film set on and around a canal. But there is a strange affair with Emily Mortimer which involves tomato ketchup and a bare bottom spanking.

In an interview Mortimer, who has an oft reported family background connected with spanking, said it was fun and worthwhile exploring sexual adventures.

Other images were found at: Dallas, Devlin, Contemporary Spanking, Chicago Spanking Review, Asa Jones and Real Spanking.


Reality Bites

07Jul20

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 license 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 if I am honest I kind of want it.”

Story edited from several contributions on FemForum.


Vintage Sunday

05Jul20

Community

01Jul20

Whilst there are few things pending I am having another ongoing poor connectivity week. I get a few minutes here and there to post or at least search and I spend them looking at the damn little wheel turning and not resolving until it times out and I start again. Consequently a quick community post ends up eating all my time and being half-arsed in the process.

Enough of the whinge. Pandora has been getting praise for her diversity and is definitely on zeitgeist at the moment.

Bonnie has taken a trip down memory lane and also reviews reader engagement and reflects on the dangers of not putting the work in.

The Spanking Emporium is a great site, Asa Jones has regular and original content, with side trips to vintage images.

Other images were taken from Dallas, Contemporary Spanking and AAA.


Summer Time Fun

29Jun20

This week sunbathing can so easily go wrong’


Vintage Sunday

28Jun20

Before even I could remember there was something I couldn’t name. It was something I knew was there and wanted very much and for the longest time I wondered if anyone felt like me. Then one day I was taken out of class by my father to go on a family outing and had to miss the school play. As a result my head teacher deemed that I should miss the Christmas party or some of it and go and sit in the detention room.

I was sat down unsupervised with a self-proclaimed naughty girl who had also run afoul of the head mistress. She warned me that we were going to get the slipper, probably, something I knew was not true but she insisted. Then she told me that her mother had spanked her bare bottom in front of everyone, even boys and she thought she would die. She seemed in awe of this and furnished details.

Somehow I knew with a rare insight that she was making it up and was enjoying every facet of her little fantasy (a word I did not then know) but my unvoiced shared interest told me I was not alone. Finally I could name that longing.

The liberal world of 1960s Southern England did not allow the spanking experience to touch my life too often. Books were good, adventure stories where teens got into mischief and movies on TV routinely included spankings. That was about it.

Then for a whole school term I was packed off to the country and a village school where to maintain discipline the teachers had kids form a queue one after the other to go over her knee. It was like something out of an old movie or Little House on the Prairie, and all a bit surreal. I was in the senior class and the big girls undergoing this spanking blushed unmercifully. Sometimes I wonder, did I dream that summer?

Then there was Janet. She was 16 and my best friend’s big sister. She had a lot of time for us, no doubt we were prospects for her biker moll lifestyle of corruption. She was a bit of a wild girl who introduced me to the teenage rock scene in the next town.

She used to play Monopoly with us with her just in her dressing gown, a haphazard affair that did not quite do up in front and was woefully too short behind. I am sure she aided many a wardrobe malfunction when she knew I was looking.

Then one day she went too far. Her biker boyfriend took her somewhere forbidden. Her father saw no reason to send me home and instead took my friend and I into the garden where he chatted about roses in an amiable middleclass pipe-smoking way.

I was puzzled until Janet’s mother stopped shouting at her to chase her upstairs with a slipper in hand. My mind saw more than my eyes, but we heard it all.

There was always school of course. Back in the day the cane (bat, slipper and chalk duster) were all readily at the disposal of many teachers. My school days were not as brutal as depicted in the book Kestrel for a Knave, but not so far off it. Although I mostly ducked it, in those days the cane was an occupational hazard of being a school boy. It took a long time for me to realise that what went for boys also went for the girls. It was just that girls did not talk.

There were one or two girls who would defiantly where loud trousers to school – usually forbidden girls but allowed for those up for CP. There was always a frisson surrounding such events. Of course much later I realised that the average fifth or sixth former girl did not advertise.

In hindsight there was a succession of young women shame-faced and discreetly going to see the girls’ head of year or the deputy head. Both ladies had a secluded room on the top floor accessed only by a forbidden staircase. Nervous girls wold go up and then return red-faced and in tears. Although back then we did not always join the dots everyone knew about the games mistress, who was rumoured to wield a mean slipper. In those days PE Teachers were a law unto themselves.

My later teens saw me working for my father at the weekends; he kept a shop in my early community college years. I mostly worked Saturday’s but the job had its perks. Out in the storeroom horseplay was common and my playmates were the town beauty, the youngest daughter of the family that ran the coach and bus firm and Annie who was my confident and as cheeky as they came.

The beauty was a tall long-legged blonde with spray-on jeans. When she stopped to chat on the High Street yours truly got some kudos, but she was completely out of my league. This did not stop me looking, a fact that Annie loved to tease me about.

Annie was a teaser and if she could play a prank she would. One day I was mopping the storeroom floor when she ‘found’ a dozen reasons to cross and re-cross the wet patch. Finally I grabbed a dustpan brush and chased her into the stockroom. There she went over my knee and I gave my first ever actual spanking. Annie yelped and blushed but never held it against me. Afterwards as we were shutting the shop, Annie told the beauty about my brutality and that she couldn’t sit down, a slight exaggeration, but the reply was more than rewarding.

Looking at her watch Beauty said, “And I won’t be able to sit down if I am late home.”

There must have been a dozen incidents like this, some remembered, some forgotten.

In my twenties I worked for the county council. Again there was a little team of women, most as young as I was and the sexual tension was only broken by failed dates and brief affairs. My boss was a total spanko and had no end of stories about her adventures. We swapped tales, real and imagined, all in the name of banter; and yes it finally happened.

Another girl had a thing about BDSM in literature and its place in a feminist world. She shared a house at college with a girl whose boyfriend spanked her.

“A true feminist can embrace that,” she told me.

I asked her what she knew about such things and she became evasive. She let slip she was no stranger to a hairbrush, her father was ex-military and strict with her and her sister right up until they left home.

“You’re 24, you left home last year,” I said.

“Precisely,” she replied, but she was scarlet and realised she had said too much.

I later found out her sister moved out at when she was 27 and I remembered this slip. This was the dawn of the 1980s and another world.

The world, which my cynical self, had decided could not been as I fantasied, and yet everywhere I looked I learned different.

I went to college late, an advantage as it turned out. My spanking adventures were only just beginning.