Nov 302011


It is impossible to be a fan of spanking and not know who Dana Specht is…and this entry to the ‘My Birthday Spanking’ story contest gives more good reason to respect this powerful disciplinarian. As this is a ‘true story’ submitted by one of my readers, I’ve edited a few specific details in order to protect anonymity.
– Dana

My birthday spanking/session with Ms. Dana Specht!
I have been married for 30 years to the most wonderful woman in the world. About 15 years ago I asked her if she would spank me and take over as domestic disciplinarian in my life. It’s a long story of how we got to where we are today but in a nutshell she agreed. I will be 60 in June of this year and by chance my wife was on *** and found Dana Specht. Her videos of scolding and spanking were learning tools for my wife when she was just getting into this crazy life we have now. So, Ms. Specht is definitely a BIG star in both of our eyes. Ms. Specht posted that she was coming to *** (where we live) in April for a vacation and sessions. My wife told me later you can’t get better odds than that  ***…so she sent Ms. Specht a couple e-mails and they set up this session for April a couple months before my actual birthday. Now of course my wife had to tell me about this. After all spankings are consensual and if I walked into a room and there was Dana Specht standing there I would have run out the door and probably got hit by a cab or something.  Anyway, scared and reluctant I agreed and tried to mentally prepare for the upcoming “session”. 
I didn’t sleep the night before at all…the session was scheduled for 2 in the afternoon. We both arrived at the hotel and the wife made the call, “We are here”, and up the elevator we went.  We arrived at the door of the room and I was actually shaking with anticipation, nerves, sheer terror…Imagine Dana Specht was on the other side of that door. My wife went in first and the two of them hugged like old friends. Ms. Specht is very pretty and has a beautiful figure; she wore a simple short length black sleeveless dress, black hose, and patent leather high heels…classy all the way. 
Her tools were fanned out on one of the two hotel room beds…brushes, straps, and small paddles, all small enough to easily pack in a suitcase. I was scared to death, shaking, and the first thing I said when I entered the room was “It’s really her, it’s really her”, and was overcome with emotion. I too hugged her immediately – after all, she’s a legend in the spanking world!
We had a wonderful sit-down conversation for 15 minutes, just to settle the butterflies and get to know each other a bit. We discussed my upcoming birthday, and she read an email my wife had sent her, the things she wanted her to “address” with me in terms of scolding and making the spanking meaningful. Let me just say, she is really good, I mean really good, at what she does!! She is not sadistic, she is not mean, she sets the mood, the mindset, she is very very personal, and focused on you. She did her homework and knew exactly what to say even though we had never met before. I would absolutely recommend her sessions to anyone! When she read the e-mail I started to get a little squirmy, the scolding had begun in a mild way but I was starting to feel like I was in the principal’s office and it wasn’t going to end up well. 
She moved over to one of the beds and positioned herself and straightened her skirt. Her posture was perfect. Her demeanor changed ever so slightly as she gently scolded me a little more and directed me to remove my shirt. Now remember my wife is sitting on the other bed watching all this and taking pictures for crying out loud!!!!! Next thing I know she is undoing my belt saying naughty boys have to remove their pants when they get off they came and I folded them neatly on the chair. Then she had me turn around and inspected and patted my bum and said, “What happens to naughy boys?” I said, “They get spanked”. She said, “That’s right and where do they get spanked?”  I said, “On the bum”. She said, “What kind of bum?” I replied, “The bare bum ma’am?” Well, down came the underpants and I neatly folded them on the chair. Now I am naked other than white socks, a red face and standing with my arms at my side and my head down. Not a pretty sight to look at I am sure!
This whole time, she was scolding me about my bad habits, and telling me I was naughty and needed this spanking badly. My wife said afterward I was all submissive and saying “yes ma’am” and “no ma’am” like I was born to it. She started with OTK with the hand, let me say she is absolutely masterful at hand spanking! Wow, and double-wow. The birthday spanking was all done with her hand – she doubled it, 60 each cheek. Then over the course of the next 45 minutes she moved to 3 different straps, 3 brushes, and 2 wooden paddles. Periodically she had me get up and look at my bum in the full length mirror, and at least 4 or 5 times, she gently lotioned my bottom with aloe vera, to give me a break I think and also helped keep her hand from drying out as well. She also said the lotion makes the swats sting a little more and then she and the wife laughed about spanking a wet bottom. Let me say that I will never smell aloe vera again without thinking of that afternoon. My wife and she conversed during it, the wife took pictures, they talked technique, and my loving wife kept touching me every once in a while just to reassure me I was doing great, especially towards the end, when the wood was hitting my fire-red bottom.
The emotion of the session is something I would compare to therapy, at least for me. I have PTSD that just recently cropped up after years of repression (the 60’s really sucked for a lot of us guys). This session brought out a ton of emotions that no therapist could ever do. I cried several times not necessarily from the pain but just the total emotional release of it all. She was so sweet and gentle in her persona yet so direct and powerful as a disciplinarian. 
At the end of it, the endorphins had definitely kicked in, and she just held me, cradled my head, told me all was forgiven and I was a good boy again. I could barely walk, it was the endorphins…she had me sit down for another 15 minutes just to collect myself, and we just chatted some more about our lives and histories. Half that time, I was still totally naked, and didn’t even realize it! That’s how “in the zone” I was, my wife said it was amazing to witness.  She gave me homework to do, this letter being one and I must write her once a month to keep her advised on my promises to change the bad habits my wife wrote her about. We all hugged, took a couple more pictures and we headed home. My wife said in the car that of course she had to spank me just a little more when we got home. She said her hand was itching the whole time watching, just wanting to swat my sore cheeks herself. I was pretty much out of it for two hours after the session, it was like being on a drug. ***
I sit here writing this now the day after the session. My bum is still very sore and carries the “badges of honor” us guys love to look at over and over after a good lickin’. In closing let me say that Ms. Specht is a sweet, strong woman, very personable and one terrific disciplinarian. My wife said she learned a few techniques she didn’t know about…that inner thigh thing she does with that leather strap… forget-a-bout-it…yikes! I would also like to thank my wife for this wonderful gift. We both will never forget that windy April tuesday afternoon *** with the wonderful Ms. Dana Specht.
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Nov 282011
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Nov 272011

This F/F entry to the ‘My Birthday Spanking’ Story Contest, submitted by my dear friend Angel, is eloquently written and terribly realistic. (Since a few of my friends do enjoy submitting stories for the contests, and most especially because I do not wish to show favoritism, their entries are allowed as non-contestants. Angel receives her ‘fair share’ of spankings regardless, I assure you.)

– Dana


I arrived at the studio an hour earlier than was originally scheduled, after having received a last minute e-mail from Dana politely inquiring if I could make arrangements to meet her at 12 instead of 1.  I, of course, obliged – not even bothering to see if there was a reason.  I didn’t think it mattered and simply assumed she wanted to make sure we had enough time to get acquainted with each other before we had our first professional session with her client.
 It was no inconvenience to me since I was planning to arrive early anyway .  After all, I had  learned  that traffic or weather conditions are never to be fully relied upon and there is no excuse for being late.  For instance, if there happens to be an upturned trailer that collided with a roaming wild turkey that escaped from an alien ship right before you got to the tolls, making it the case that it takes you an extra 37 minutes to get into the city – this is still only an excuse, and not a “reason. ” Had you had brains enough to leave just a little earlier, the whole space alien turkey collision would  not have affected you.
So yes, I was planning to be there early – and I was.  Thankfully, there were no impossible events that interfered with my good intentions and I found myself with 42 minutes to spare. However, just before pressing the buzzer to the studio, it suddenly registered that I was nervous.  “Oh, no.  You didn’t account for this,” I told myself while extending my hand in midair and then retracting it, unable to find the nerve to press the button. 
“Uh oh, this is not good,” I said aloud, not realizing it.  When people started looking at me funny, I realized that approximately 7 minutes later I was having a full blown conversation with myself.  I half ran to the coffee shop on the corner until I could figure out what to do.  I wanted to call my Mistress, but I knew if I did that the sound of Her voice would make me clingy and emotional, and that it would probably end with some kind of rebuke – suggesting that if I was not on my best behavior for Dana that I would have to contend with Her discipline.  This fantasy based deterrent gave me a new anxiety and I started to contemplate why I was even nervous in the first place.
I had spoken to Dana via e-mail several times.  She didn’t seem at all purposefully intimidating, and she is really so sweet that it wouldn’t surprise me if she had a hard time faking “mean.”  She is aware that I’m involved in a 24/7 D/s relationship with my Mistress – so I didn’t leave out any details.   I didn’t do anything to upset her.  None of it made any sense really.  But I couldn’t shake it.  Maybe it’s just those first time jitters one gets when interacting with someone new, was what I kept telling myself.  But at this point, it didn’t really matter.  I only had a few more moments of free time before I had to go meet her.
“Just do it!” I yelled at myself (in my head this time).  This gave me momentary courage – until I remembered the story my Mistress told me about the inspiration behind that slogan.  It was modeled after Gary Gilmore’s “Let’s do it” proclamation right before he was put to death by a firing squad.  Nope.  Suddenly I was all unsettled again and relying solely on the knowledge that if I ran away my Mistress would hunt me down and do something terrible to me.  I might not be alive to suffer any repercussions from Dana so I didn’t mull that over too much.  I don’t know what I was doing really, but somehow I managed to make it to door, even up the elevator – all while in some kind of blind daze.

(Remember to click ‘Read More’ below to read the complete story.)

Mistress Ariana opened the door.  Usually I would run and hug her, but this time I froze.  She looked at me quizzically and then asked me if I was going to come in.  Nope.  I wasn’t going to go in.  I shook my head.  In her uniquely dominant and comical way, she dragged me inside against my will.  “What’s wrong with you?” she demanded to know.  I refused to answer.  “Should I call your Mistress?” she asked dripping of sweetness, trying to pretend like it wasn’t a threat but rather a genuine point of concern – but I knew what she doing.  I shook my head again and Ariana told me to go to the back room where Dana was waiting to meet me.  Thankfully, she didn’t follow me because she got distracted with a ringing phone and she had to buy a hut for her smurfs on the iPad.
I started to walk hesitantly, my body obviously not complying with my scattered and frantic thoughts.  I passed Kevin in the hallway, “Ang, what’s wrong?” he asked.
“Nothing,” I lied.  The word sounded strange but I was relieved to have said it.  I thought I had lost the ability to speak.  I contemplated calling Mistress Mona.  But having already told me such wonderful things about Dana, I’m sure this would  have gotten me into trouble.  I suddenly sucked in a deep breath, realizing and being thankful that neither my Mistress nor Mistress Mona were at the studio – because at this point, I would probably have been introduced to a startled Dana by one of them dragging me into greet her… by my hair.
Kevin freed my from my fate by knocking on the door for me, noticing that Ariana was about to hang up the phone and find me idling in her hallway.  He gently pushed me into the room before Dana had the chance to extend her welcome invitation.  Her “Come in,” was rudely interrupted by my clumsy entrance.  I didn’t even look at her as I stumbled, but rather turned towards the door just as it was being slammed shut behind me.  I shut my eyes, suppressing my urge to vow revenge against Kevin.
I might have been able to shut my eyes, but my hearing was still intact.  And I was drawn back into the environment when I heard my name.  “Angel?,” a voice sweetly whispered. 
“No, don’t look at her,” I told myself.  That worked for a full minute before her tone became more pronounced and less questioning.  And the third time, a stern sounding “Angel” was accompanied by the clicking of heels on the floor and I knew she was approaching me from behind.  I finally found the courage to turn around, and was met with a curious eyebrow raising gesture.
“Hi there,” she smiled.
“Hi?” I responded, my voice sounding small and terrified.
“Are you okay?” 
“No.  Yes.  No.  I don’t know,” was the only thing I could stupidly come up with as my eyes darted anxiously across the floor.  I thought to myself that I wanted my Mistress, which prompted me immediately out of my stupor – I would  not want Her so much if She were there to take me across her knee for acting so strangely. 
My gaze finally rose to meet Dana’s, and for the first time I noticed how striking her blue eyes were, contrasting with her stark black hair.  She was very professional looking, with a tight fitting blouse, blue-black jeans and a pair of simple heels.  “Oh no,” I thought to myself, again… “She looks like one of those teachers you would fantasize about.”  I studied her, unable to say anything really but secretly impressed.  She was true to her photos, except she was without any implements.  Picturing her with her missing hairbrush or paddle, I got nervous again.
“Angel, what’s wrong?” she asked.
Of course, I lied.  The word naturally escaped my lips as easily as it always did. “Nothing.”  Except with Dana, I did make the effort to sound a little convincing – curious to know if others besides my Mistress could discern it was deception.  It was almost remarkable to me how swiftly that word rolls off the tongue with no regard to the consequences.  So many times this particular lie has found me in a puddle of my own tears with a very sore bottom and yet it continued to betray me.
“Your Mistress told me you might say something like that.  She said you favor “Nothing,” and “I don’t know.”
“What?”  Luckily for me, I screamed that bad and accusatory word only in my head and not into the air.  Unluckily for me, Dana must have read it on my face.  “Now I am going to ask you what’s wrong,” she repeated, her voice sounding quite stern and her glistening blue eyes blazing into mine.  “But this time it’s in your best interest to tell the truth because we both know the answer.”  What kind of conspiracy was this, I wondered.  She spoke to MY Mistress about ME without my knowledge?  This earned my defiant silence as I contemplated such an outrage. Sometimes silence was worse than “I don’t know,” or “Nothing.”  I stared dumbly at her, suddenly too angry to even notice how pretty she was anymore.
I watched her with unmoving eyes as she sat down in the throne chair.  “Come here,” she instructed.  “Let’s have a chat.” 
The audacity!  “Hey, you can’t say that!” I challenged.  Suddenly I was all flustered and perplexed.  “Only my Mistress can say that to me!”  Then, like a possessive child,  I almost yelled at her, “Actually, no one besides my Mistress can say those words to anybody, ever!”  Suddenly I realized how ridiculous that was but I had to swallow it and regain instant composure to lend it credibility, as if it’s perfectly conceivable that my Mistress is the only person on the planet allowed to utter these words: “Let’s have a chat,” in that order, to anyone else on the planet at any given time.  I suppose those words are very sacred to me, and She most definitely owned them in my mind every time they escaped Her lips and I found myself being escorted to some place or another to be almost immediately spanked.
Dana didn’t seem in the least disturbed by my outburst, except that it seemed she was politely trying to conceal a smile.  “You seem very preoccupied with your Mistress, and rightfully so.  But SHE was the one who suggested I  use that line, and now I see why.  You are not behaving very appropriately at the moment and I am sure your attitude with me would displease her.  Don’t you agree?”
I thought about this, for a split second, then nearly dropped to my knees ready to beg her not to tell my Mistress – but knowing  full well that I would have to tell her myself when she asked me about it, and that if I dared to lie to her it would mean big trouble.  I didn’t drop to my knees, but the tears started to stream down my face.  My body started to quiver a little as well and suddenly I felt cold.  Or maybe it was pure defeat.  The mere mention of my Mistress inspiring such a dramatic reaction?  What was happening to me?
Dana had obviously sensed my distress and reminded me to go to her as per her original instructions.  I did without question, the idea of my Mistress gripping me so tightly that all disobedience had instantly disarmed and was now not even within my reach.  “Would you like to know what’s going on?” Dana asked as I slowly made my way on trembling legs towards her.  I nodded.
“I did talk to your Mistress,” She informed me.  By now this was very obvious to me, but I declined to say so. “She told me that you are in trouble.  A great deal of it.  Generously, she decided not to punish you until after we had our session because your bottom wouldn’t be useful to me in the condition she intends to make of it.”  The tears had dried up now, but very small beads of perspiration formed on my brow.  And anywhere a tiny hair existed on my body, it stood at attention in captivated terror.  Not only was I terribly embarrassed She had spoken to another Dominant about my behavior, but also what she was going to do to me – which not even I was ready to comprehend the magnitude of, and probably would not be able to until the very moment it begins.
“You seem very upset, Angel.  Now I don’t want you to panic when I tell  you what’s going to happen next.”  Naturally the first thing one does when told not to panic, is panic.  It’s very much like someone who sees something disturbing on the road and tells you not to look.  You don’t even notice you’re looking until you are screaming at the next person not to do to it.  I wanted to say something but the words were lodged in my throat and I feared if I tried to make them unstuck that I might literally start choking.  Out of fear and desperation, not defiance, I chose to remain silent and merely listen.
Dana continued, unflinching, and emphasizing just the right words to make me cringe and feel a little ill.  “Your Mistress told me that it was recently Her birthday and that She believes birthdays are a new beginning.  It’s Her own little new-year, and a great time for a fresh start.  Having an upcoming birthday, I can certainly understand that.  Now, you’ve spoiled that a little with your misbehavior but she doesn’t think it’s too late for you.  I am here to help: to give you a warm-up for what awaits you at Her hands and, as She offered, to give you something to think about until you see Her next.  I have had to deal with my fair share of brats and I can certainly emphasize with Her frustration.   Now, do you have any objections?”
I was so nervous at this point that I couldn’t object even if I knew what I was objecting to.  It was only logical to conclude that she was going to spank me, but she didn’t exactly use that terminology and so I found myself unwilling, or unable, to connect the dots.  I said “No,” – not because I had no instinctual objections, but because saying “No” just seemed like the absolute worst thing to say.  That, and I knew whatever was happening was because I deserved it – and that my Mistress would never put me in harm’s way or subject me to unearned punishment. What can one do but comply when that is the case? 
“But why didn’t anybody tell me?”  was the only thing I could legitimately allow myself to say to Dana, instantly regretting it because of how pitiful its echo was.  I scanned my brain for the e-mail certain there was no mention of it.
Ms. Kane made no effort to conceal her grin this time but merely beckoned me towards her with the instructional gesture of her index finger that pointed first in her general direction, and then directly towards her lap.  “Because you didn’t take the time to ask,” she said.
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Nov 262011

‘Stuart’s Surprise Birthday Spanking’ is detailed, interesting, and – best of all – a great F/M entry to the ‘My Birthday Spanking’ story contest. Enjoy! 
– Dana



Stuart and Jenna had met at a fall sorority social at a northwestern state university in the 1960’s.   Their romance moved along to the extent that they were seeing each other exclusively and spent a lot of their time outside classes together.   He was a senior Business Administration student, while she was a sophomore in the Faculty of Education, so they shared little of their schedule during the day.   However, lunch was always fun as they gathered in the college cafeteria at his fraternity table or with her sorority sisters.   Most everyone in the crowd knew each other and it was the kind of fun that college kids enjoy.    Stuart had a 1955 Chevrolet hardtop, salmon and grey in color, and he and Jenna spent some passionate evenings parked in secluded areas around the campus.   Things progressed to the point that they both explored each other in what was termed “petting”,  and became very passionate and desired more and more intimate contact.

One evening while they were parked on behind a public school on the playground, Stuart shared with Jenna that he had always been fascinated by spanking, and had thought a lot about sharing that with her.  He told her that he had a strong desire that she would spank him.  Jenna was silent for a few moments, and then asked “Why would you want me to spank you–I care for you so much!”.   Stuart carefully explained that it was a mental and physical turn-on for him, and asked if she would try it.    He said that he had a small wooden paddle that he had hidden in the glove compartment, and showed it to her.   This led to his first spanking by Jenna—over her lap in the car and on his bare bottom.    He loved it, and told her how much it meant that she would agree to spank him.     Over the course of the remaining school year, she would from time to time give Stuart a spanking with the small paddle.

In June, Stuart graduated from college with his business degree, and went off to work on a job with a gas pipeline company in Houston, Texas.    Jenna had a summer job at a packing plant in the northwest, and they were separated by several thousand miles.   They wrote and phoned each other as much as possible, but the separation hurt the relationship as Stuart started to date Ruth who worked in his employer’s head office.  

As his 22nd birthday approached in late August, Stuart received a phone call from Jenna, who informed him that she was taking one week off at the end of her summer and flying to Houston to visit him.     She informed him that “I will be there two days before your birthday, and not leaving until three days after it.  I want to be with you every day that week”.     “Great”, Stuart replied. “I will pick you up at the airport in Houston and it can just be the two of us together!    Wow!, I am so excited that you are coming here!”.

The day soon came that he picked Jenna up in the afternoon when her flight landed in Houston.    They kissed and held hands as they walked to the car.     “I will take you right to my apartment and you can get freshened up and then I will take you out for dinner”, said Stuart.     “Fantastic!   All I have had to eat today was peanuts and crackers on the flight…and I am starving” replied Jenna.      At the apartment there was some wonderful kissing, touching and feeling, and then Jenna excused herself to take a shower and change into a nice pants suit.      When she emerged from the bedroom all freshened up, she announced that she had brought a special birthday present for Stuart, but that he would have to take her out to dinner first, and then she would share it when they got back to the apartment.

They went to a nice steakhouse on the Old Spanish Trail in south Houston, and when they got back to the apartment, Jenna excused herself and went into the bedroom.    Delving into her suitcase, she came out with the mystery present, which was wrapped in gift paper and was about two feet long and only a few inches wide.   She kissed Stuart and said “Now open it up”.     Stuart wondered what it could be but saw that it was a flexible package.   He undid the wrapping and to his surprise and somewhat delight, saw a black razor strap that had apparently been modified by cutting off some of its length.   It was only about a foot and a half long counting the molded handle.    It was two layers thick, but there was tape around it binding the two layers together.   Stuart saw that it was about three inches wide, or maybe a little less.

Jenna had a sly smile on her face as she spoke to Stuart.  “I hope you like my surprise gift, and what I plan on doing with it.    You need a good birthday spanking, and I am ready to give it to you now!”.   Stuart gulped, as he eyed the strap which she had picked up.     “Please go into the bedroom and take off your clothes and prepare for a real spanking”, she said.    Stuart’s heart started to pound—she had a serious look and he started to undress.   But, he was anxious to follow her instructions and see where this led.   Soon he was standing stark naked and Jenna came into the bedroom and said “Pile the pillows in the middle of the bed, and then lay over them with your bottom in the air.   I want to see it extended and waiting for my strap”.      Stuart did just what she instructed, and as he lay over the pillows with his bare bottom stuck in the air, he shivered and awaited the first blow of the razor strap.

Jenna said “Stuart, I love you and know you need this spanking.   Since it is your 22nd birthday, I will give you one stroke for each year.   Don’t move until I am done.   You will count each stroke”.   “Yes, dear” replied Stuart.     In only a few seconds the first stroke of the strap landed square across the middle of his bottom.    It hurt immediately with a sharp, serious pain.  “Oh! Ouch!……One” exclaimed Stuart with his face buried in the bedsheet.     Some ten or so seconds later the second strap stroke landed with a sharp smacking noise.   “Two!”  “Ow—not so hard—that really stings!” he pleaded.    Jenna did not reply, but instead landed a harder third stroke to his now reddening behind.   “Please, Jenna—why so hard!!” he pleaded.    “I did not hear a count” was all she said.   “Three!” he responded.     The birthday strapping went on through all 22 strokes, and by about the 10th one his bottom was becoming a very dark red and as she progressed through the next ten, it was clear that some bruises were evident.    Still, Jenna kept laying on the razor strap to his enflamed buttocks, until finally he was able to gasp “Twenty two!”.     The strapping ended and he rubbed his sore bottom with his hands.     “Here, Stuart, that is my job and I have brought some soothing lotion for your bottom” Jenna said.    She had a jar of some cooling ointment and rubbed his bottom with it.    While there was no doubt that he had received a very hard birthday spanking, he felt a rush and sort of relief that she had come all this way with such a gift and then gave him his first really hard spanking as an adult.    “I love you–you gave me just what I needed for my birthday” he told her.  Their lovemaking was the most passionate that they had ever experienced.     They enjoyed the next few days together, and while he did not receive any more spankings from Jenna, he cherished the memory of that one birthday spanking that she had lovingly given him.    

The End.

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Nov 252011


While the content of this PSA may not pertain to all of you, I believe that it will serve as an excellent learning tool for some.

There are some things which I consider understood and unspoken that, sadly, do not naturally occur to everyone. While I am not in the advice-giving business, nor do I speak for my fellow professional disciplinarians, it seems a good idea to point out some generally helpful guidelines for those considering contacting/interacting with myself or one of my skilled contemporaries.

First, it is recommended that you take a look at the website of the person with whom you’d like to communicate. Actually read about them, their interests, and their preferred method of contact.

Then, stop. Think about what you’d like to say before you say it. If you are thinking of using any of the myriad words to describe your genitalia, it’s state or function, or of discussing your masturbatory habits…go back to the first guideline. Does the person in question specifically request – anywhere on the site – this information? (The answer will almost always be NO – they do not.) 

This is about your backside, not your front side.

Next, either make a considerate telephone call or send a respectful introductory email. Introduce yourself, state your interests, and provide any requested information.

That seems very simple, doesn’t it?

Just in case, here are a couple examples:

Example #1: The Bad Email Example

hey, call me i need a hard spankin 
how much do u charge?

Example #2: The Good Email Example

Hello Ms Kane,

My name is Joe and I am interested in receiving a spanking from you. I am 54, fit, and have references available upon request. Please let me know if I may be considered.


– Dana

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