Give Til it Hurts #3 : Kiva, Free Videos, and Limited Edition Paddles!

 

Readers,

(Don’t despair; once you get past all the details, there’s Free Stuff!!)

After the first two very successful ‘Give Til it Hurts’ fundraisers, both for animal charities, a few of my friends and playmates suggested that we put our considerable resources toward something a bit different from time to time. While we all love the critters endlessly, we can also acknowledge that there are a bazillion places where our dough can do great things – let’s take a look at another great way to help the world around us, while not really even spending any money at all.

 

CLICK HERE TO JOIN ‘FRIENDS OF DANA KANE’ ON KIVA

Kiva is a micro-lending organization providing loans to needy folks, mostly in developing countries. Millions of dollars in small loans have been facilitated through Kiva in the last decade, and the repayment rate is 99% – meaning that nearly every single cent loaned is repayed, thereby making the loan almost zero risk for those of us who contribute. The funds contributed/loaned through the Kiva website are distributed to people who will use those funds to improve their living situations, via small business endeavors like handcrafts, continued education, and agriculture. The borrowers – who are, by nature of their demographics, locked out of the international monetary system – then pay back their loans (plus interest in many cases, which is unavoidable, so let’s get past it), the lenders are reimbursed via Kiva, and the lender is then able to re-lend their funds or simply withdraw the money back out.

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Since Kiva was founded in 2005:

  • 1,209,291 individuals have signed up as Kiva lenders
  • $590,735,025 has been loaned to people in need
  • 98.87% of all Kiva loans are repaid

They work with:

  • 270 Field Partners (institutions who make the original loans to borrowers)
  • 450 volunteers around the world work with even the most remote borrowers, insuring that the funds are distributed and loans repaid
  • 77 different countries benefit from Kiva loan programs

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This is an excellent option for those of us who like to regularly contribute as well as those who’re interested in helping but can’t commit to giving away chunks of money. Since it’s a loan and not a donation, you’re simply putting that money away in a safe place for a little while, rather than giving it away entirely. You’ll get it back.

Please take a few minutes to peruse the Kiva website, and do your own research on micro-lending so that you understand the gist of things if you want – it’s important to me that anyone considering participating in this ‘Give Til it Hurts’ fundraising endeavor ‘gets it’. The borrowers you’ll see on the site – most of whom reside in third world, rural, inaccessible areas without commerce or industry or employment opportunity – are working hard to improve their lives and the lives of their families and communities. Kiva loans give many of them the hand up that they need. I think this is an excellent way for us to help, and I hope you’ll agree.

* You don’t have to publicly display or share any of your personal information on the Kiva website or Friends of Dana Kane group profile. While you’ll make your contribution via the usual methods, your Kiva profile is set up just like any other, meaning that you may choose how much of your information is visible to other users (don’t forget to email and let me know ‘who’ you are, so you can get your video and paddle!), and keep all your personal information completely private. *

YOU CHOOSE EXACTLY WHERE YOUR MONEY GOES, SELECTING AN INDIVIDUAL (OR SEVERAL!) BORROWER TO RECEIVE YOUR CONTRIBUTION.

CLICK HERE TO JOIN ‘FRIENDS OF DANA KANE’ ON KIVA


So what’s in it for you? Well, the joy and happiness and rush of doing something good, of course. But you know how much I love giving stuff away, and this time will be no exception.

 

PRIZE #1

Everyone who contributes to the ‘Friends of Dana Kane’ group on Kiva will receive a free specially-filmed spanking video download. I’ll corral one of my cute girl spankees into putting her bottom on the line in the name of charity, and you’ll get the benefit of watching!

Even if you’re only able to contribute 25bucks, you’ll get the free video, that I’ll make especially for the fundraiser using the limited edition Give Til it Hurts paddle:

The silhouette Dana Kane artwork, depicting me sitting in a traditional, high-back chair – hairbrush at the ready, was done beautifully by the talented and generous Red Rump, and is displayed on one of Cane-iac’s sturdy wood paddles. This 1/2″ thick OTK-size thumper is the perfect paddle for smacking a squirming, protesting brat until they learn the meaning of Behave.

 

PRIZE #2

dana kane spanks

 

The first thirty participants who contribute $40 or more to the ‘Friends of Dana Kane’ group will receive (in addition to the video) one of these limited edition paddles, shipped free of course or, even better, handed over in person following thorough usage.

Once these paddles are gone, they’re gone. Cane-iac’s been kind enough to provide us with just enough to hold this fundraiser, and a couple extra for me to keep and use..there won’t be more, and they’ll never be for sale. (If something happens and we don’t give them all away during this fundraiser, the remainder will be kept as incentive for future Give Til it Hurts endeavors.)

 

So let’s all get together and show the world what a bunch of spanko-kinksters can do when we put our minds (and debit cards) to the task!

 

** We’ll run this fundraiser from today (August 4) through September 15, 2014. Six weeks to do as much Good as we can manage. **

 

CLICK HERE TO JOIN ‘FRIENDS OF DANA KANE’ ON KIVA


P.S.  My sincerest thanks to Red Rump for lending his talented hand (I’ll have more from him in a future animal charity drive, and you’ll LOVE it!), and to my great good friends at Cane-iac for donating and customizing the paddles. I’m reminded again and again how many wonderful people I’ve been privileged to know, all because I’m into this spanking thing.~~~

–  Dana

 

Another P.S. If you’re confused as all hell and need help figuring out what to do next, just email me… danakanespanks@gmail.com.

‘Amy’s First Spanking’ : Sin City Spanks entry

 

Readers,

Finally, ‘Amy’s First Spanking’, a great way to end May’s Sin City Spanks story contest entries – have fun with this one, and stay tuned for the next spanking story contest!

–  Dana

 

Amy’s First Spanking

My name is Amy and I am a 21 year old former Las Vegas showgirl.  I was abandoned by my parents as an infant and raised in foster homes.  I was putting myself through college at U.N.L.V. as a showgirl until I got involved with a gangster twice my age.  I was enamored by his good looks, smooth talking, the way he threw his money around, and his celebrity friends.  Because of his fast lane life style I dropped out of college and into the Las Vegas nightlife.  I am currently lying in bed at the luxurious Vegas hotel where I was employed as a showgirl with a very sore well spanked bottom.  It was my first spanking ever and I’m afraid it won’t be my last.  I will never have to wonder again how a spanking feels!  I am a former showgirl as of about two hours ago when I decided to drop my gangster boyfriend and the Vegas nightlife in exchange for finishing college.

My former boyfriend is a thief and a jerk; but, I never realized it until tonight.  Little did I know that the money he threw around came from extorting money from the casino in Carolyn’s hotel.  Carolyn is a gorgeous motherly beauty who was celebrating her 50th birthday and looks 20 years younger.  She is 6′ tall weighs 140 lbs, has red hair, brown eyes and a muscular well toned body.  She is accompanied by her husband of three years Jonathan, who is about one half her age and 5’5″ tall, her lawyer Alexis is  a 6′ blond bombshell of 30, and Alexis’ lover Megan who is 5’4″ tall and 25 years old and looks like a college coed.

Carolyn has turned the 500 million dollars she inherited from her 1st husband Douglas into over a billion dollars.  She suspected that money was missing from her Las Vegas casino.  She has a dominate relationship with her younger husband Jonathan.  Carolyn pays the bills and Jonathan keeps house.  If he screws up its over her knee!  Jonathon worked for Carolyn before their marriage and is a computer whiz.  He checked the financial statements and discovered 50,000 dollars was missing.  He was able to trace the missing money to a floor manager in her casino.

Alexis contracted with her investigation agency and evidence revealed that my gangster boyfriend was extorting money from our floor manager who had a dubious past.  He was terminated and in exchange for not being prosecuted revealed that James was dating me and and all of the details of the extortion.  I was shocked when the hotel casino owner contacted me, a mere showgirl in her hotel, and wanted me to arrange for James and me to come to her pent house suite for drinks after my show that evening.  That evening we were introduced to Alexis, Megan, and Jonathan by Carolyn.  It was all business and James was confronted with the evidence against him gathered by Alexis’ agency.  He realized that with his criminal record and Carolyn’s and Alexis’ connections that most likely he would do prison time.  That is when Alexis dropped the bomb that Jonathan had heard before he and Carolyn were married and the petulant professor had heard after stealing a colleague’s research at the University of Colorado.  If he agreed to pay back the 50,000 dollars and accept a spanking from Carolyn and a caning from Alexis no charges would be pursued.

James agreed to Alexis’ terms.  She pulled a contract from her briefcase that James signed along with a wicked looking Spencer style paddle that made Megan and Jonathan cringe.  As I learned later both had been on the receiving end too many times and both hated the experience.  James was in tears and I was seeing him in a new light for the first time.  He wasn’t the man that I had been so stricken by!   Carolyn placed a straight back chair in the middle of the room and sit with the paddle on her lap.  James was ordered to her left side where Carolyn unbuckled his belt and lowered his pants to his knees.  She raised her short ivory silk skirt above her stocking tops and forced James over her right thigh and clamped her left leg over his legs.  Her well toned muscular right arm wrapped around his torso rendering him totally helpless.  James was pinned helplessly and Carolyn proved to be an expert spanker paddling up one side and down the other followed by a series of spanks up and down the middle of his now crimson bottom.  Next she alternated from cheek to cheek finishing on his upper thighs.  Being pinned and helpless over her lap all he could do was plead, cry, and struggle in vain as Carolyn left the imprint of her paddle on his cherry red behind.  I realized that I never wanted to see him again.  Alexis grabbed James arms as Carolyn released him from her lap and forced him over the back of a lounge chair.  Carolyn took James’ wrists and pinned him over the chair where Alexis stair cased his bottom with 12 angry wilts with her cane.  Each stripe was about one inch above the next with none crisscrossing the other.  The bawling James was shoved out of Carolyn’s suite with his crimson striped bottom before he could pull his pants back up!  Alexis’ last words to him were, “You are luck I don’t have a horse whip!”

When the five of us discussed what had just happened I was in tears and shared with them that I never wanted to see James again.  During our discussion I learned that both Megan and Jonathan were spanked if they failed to preform their household duties or their significant other believed they needed a maintaince spanking.  Although their spankings were not as severe as an the one Carolyn and Alexis gave to James, they both hated being spanked but admitted that a good spanking cleared the air.  I explained that I felt terrible about the time I had wasted with James and that allowing the night life I spent partying with him to cause me to drop out of college.  Carolyn informed me that she thought  that I would benefit from a sound spanking and if I was her daughter she would put me over her knee.  At that moment I hugged Carolyn and began crying again as I explained that I never knew my mother.  Carolyn was old enough to be my mother and I explained, “I have never been spanked and have no idea how a spanking feels; but, since you think I would benefit from a spanking and both Jonathan and Megan said that a spanking cleared the air I need to be spanked.”

Carolyn agreed but said, “Spankings are suppose to hurt and once I turn you over my knee it will be too late for you to change your mind and you will be a very unhappy little girl long before I’m finished.”  She hugged me and added, “I will pay the rest of your way through college but right now we have some business to take care of!”  Carolyn sit on the straight backed chair still in the center of the room and smoothed her ivory silk skirt with the Spencer style paddle on her lap.  She raised my skirt and put me over her knee.  She  rubbed my thin nylon white panties and said,” You will be kicking,  squirming, and dancing across my lap and that is O.K. I will have no trouble keeping you in place.”

I tried to be stoic as she began paddling my thin nylon panties but was soon crying out and dancing across her lap.  Carolyn spanked up one side and down the other and then began alternating from cheek to cheek.  Next she paddled the middle of my bottom to the top of my legs.  When  she finally left me off of her lap I danced around the room.  My eyes were teary and puffy and tears were making my mascara run down my face.  I was still crying uncontrollable when Carolyn hugged me and Alexis rubbed lotion on my stinging bottom.  I didn’t realize how much a sound spanking from a capable woman hurt.  As Carolyn had promised I was a well spanked unhappy girl.  I understood why Jonathan and Megan hated being spanked.  After three years of spanking Jonathan Carolyn had become an expert disciplinarian.   I thanked Carolyn for caring enough to discipline me and helping me finish college.

After my spanking Megan went to the kitchen and returned with a cake for Carolyn’s 50th birthday celebration.  Alexis removed her suit jacket and sit on the same straight backed chair in the middle of the room and smoothed her skirt.  Alexis had paddled Carolyn three years ago and that was the only paddling Carolyn had ever received.  Alexis informed Carolyn that she was going to receive a birthday hand spanking over her knee.  Jonathan and Megan escorted Carolyn to Alexis’ side where Alexis raised her silk  skirt to her waist and lowered her nylon panties to her knees.  Everyone was laughing except Alexis who was all business.  During her hand spanking over Alexis’ knee she never cried out and meekly submitted but I could tell by the expression on her face and her cherry red bottom outlined by her garter belt and stockings  that a hand spanking over Alexis’ knee was a very painful experience.

After Carolyn’s birthday spanking we all enjoyed white wine, cake and many laughs.  I was invited to spend the night in Carolyn’s suite.  Carolyn was going to pay for my final year of college and promised to fly back to Vegas if I needed help in maintaining my grades or any other goals that I had set for myself.  I never knew my mother but I loved Carolyn like the mother I never had.

‘Disciplined and Properly Thanked’ : Sin City Spanks Entry

I am LOVING these entries for the Sin City Spanks story contest, aren’t you?! Here’s another fun one, titled ‘Disciplined and Properly Thanked” – enjoy.~
–  Dana
 “Disciplined and Properly Thanked”
I was very excited about my up coming week in Las Vegas, Women,Night Shows and of course the Night Life!
I was never a big gambler so that did not concern me, What I wanted was to meet a couple Wild girls and spend a week playing the bachelor Game!
The first day was just getting settled and what better way to do that then to call room service and have a meal brought up,
What happened next is a little strange, When room service showed up there was a very tall attractive lady name Elizibeth she was probably in her mid thirties and she was very assertive!
Don’t get me wrong she was very nice and told me if I needed any thing to just call,
Now me being me thought Ok how about a night on the town after you get off!
but what I said or should I say what came out of my mouth was not what she wanted to hear! How much would it cost to spend a night on the town with you?
Her response was “Why does every man think that women are for sale in Vegas? I will tell you what since you don’t know how to ask me if I am married or might be available for an evening on the town like a respectable man would, I would other wise say no but Tonight I get off at Eight and have no plans call me at the front desk and don’t be late!
Wow I know I was a little rude in how I asked but she did not have to say it like I was a Rude arrogant little boy!
Oh Well I got a date and Wow if I can get her in to bed later she will see what a real man is!
After she left I looked at my order and was a little up set, The food was cold and over cooked! So I called the front desk and said I was very disappointed with the food and would like to return it! “Really I just wanted another look at Room service!”
Sure enough Elizibeth was back at my door and listened to my comments about the food and told me she would get a new order made for me and be back in about a half hour! “
While I waited I ran to the phone book to find a nice Restaurant and Night club in the area!
Elizibeth was back with my order and I tipped her with twenty percent and said thank you! She told me I was welcome and remember Eight o’clock and don’t be late!
I laid down for just a quick nap and suddenly it was 7:30 I had to shower and get ready it was 8:05 when I got down stairs and she was standing there waiting.
She looked at her watch and ask what time was it? I told her what happened and she told me we could talk about it later!
I told her I wanted to go to Gallagers  in the New York,New York but she said she wanted to do some thing different there was a Art show at the Bellagio and they were serving a dinner after!
That sounded great until I found out it was a $250 a plate fund raiser and I was paying! She told me this is where I find out what it was going to cost me for a night on the Town with her!
I grumbled and made little singles about any and everything all during the show and dinner!A couple times I could tell I had embarrassed her and she was looking very up set!
After the show while we were leaving she stopped me and said she was very disappointed in how I acted and was going home!
I appoligised many times and asked her to forgive me! She told me I act like a spoiled child and she had hoped for a nice evening and wanted to go to the lounge and have a couple drinks and talk about our interests.
Again I continued to appoligise and she told me, She would agree to spend the evening with me but we would be going to her place instead but I had to do what ever she asked me ! “OK” This tall beautiful woman who I treated like a high priced hooker and I acted like a rude spoiled child now wanted to take me home”
She told me as we walked to her Apartment that if I did not do as she asked and started arguing I would be asked to leave!
I agreed all to quickly “Oh Boy you are getting lucky tonight!”
she had a very nice suite on the 45th floor and I was at a loss for how a person who delivers room service could afford this place!
She could see and read the look on my face and told me to have a seat in the living room while she freshened up and got comfortable!
while she was gone I found the bar and helped myself to some Johnny Walker Blue and looked around!
She startled me as she walked in to the room with a dark robe on and heels!
She told me to get my things and leave! I asked why?
She asked me what did I say to do while I was changing? To have a seat and wait for her to freshen up!
So why are you not sitting on the couch and who told you to help your self to a drink?
I thought “No you did not think you have not thought about how you behave and what your comments and actions are doing to those around you!
Now please put my glass down get your jacket and leave!
I did just what she asked, All night I thought about how I had behaved and how totally right she was!
I guess all I could think of was her she put me in my place and told me very clearly I needed to grow up in a nice way!
The next morning I asked if she was working and was told she would not be in until the next day!
I could not wait I had to see her and I had to beg her forgiveness!
I knew where she lived so I had a choice go over to her apartment or wait till she returned to work!
As much as I knew I should wait I had to do some thing so I asked if there were any social events going on around town tonight and the concierge told me he knew Elizibeth and she would want to go to the SPCA fund raiser to support the local animal shelter!
Tickets were $500.00 plus there would be an auction after of a Painting by Jean Batzell Fitzgerald
I had to think all I had would be spent if I went and to try to bid on a painting was not in the pocket book for me!
But I said Ok I will take the tickets and see if she would agree to try again!
I got to her place with a dozen Rose’s and knocked on her door!
I heard some rustling but no one answered the door so I knocked again and she asked what I wanted?
Only a minute of your time and then I will leave if you ask me too!
Elizibeth opened the door and I handed her the roses and told her how sorry I was that I thought about how i had treated her and also how I acted and told her she was right!
I told her I had tickets to the fund raiser and would like to try again to make amends.
I could she the sparkle in her eyes but she told me I would need to be disciplined for last night and unless i agreed i should just leave right now and never return!
I told her any thing Please just forgive me!
she told me to come in and she would see how I acted and did what i was told this time!
I sat down and she laid it out I was going to be Spanked just like the spoiled little boy I acted like last night!
I would have my pants taken down and put over her knee and spanked with her Hair brush and then afterwards I would be bent over the back of her couch and Caned 24 times for not doing as I was told last night at her apartment!
I chuckled a little but then seen she was serious and I had the choice to make at the moment!
I agreed and she told me to go in to the bathroom at the end of the hall take off all my cloths and put on the robe hanging on the hook!
I returned to her and she was seated in the chair next to the couch1
She told me to go to her dining room and return with one of the straight back chairs! I was mortified but did as she asked!
after setting it down in the middle of the room she pointed to a corner and said to stand there till she returned and I had better not move or take my nose out of that corner before she got back or told me to move!
The wait was agonizingly long it seemed but then I felt her take hold of my ear and lead me over to the chair!
I was told to take the robe off and set it on the chair neatly!
She sat down and I was then put over her knee!
She said under normal circumstances I would get a warm up but this was not going to be normal!
That Hair brush landed with a crack that I was sure everyone for six floors up or down could hear and before I even got one cry out she had two more strikes in! I was stunned but she was only getting started and continued for “Well I really don’t know how long but  I was begging and pleading for my life and when I went limp all I can say is she had her hand on my back rubbing it saying she was done and I could get up now!
I was told to go back to the corner and she would return in a moment!
I would not of moved for my life! when she got back she asked if I needed to use the restroom and if so go now and return immediately after!
As much as I was not in a hurry I did!
She was standing behind the couch with a large cane and told me to come over and lay over the back!
I did and she said I would get the 24 and at no time was I to stand or reach back!
If I did that one would not count and if I was told more the three times I was to leave and not return!
I had never been Caned Or Spanked for that matter!
But I thought that Hair Brush hurt, the first stroke was like a shot of electricity shooting up to my brain from the pain I shot straight up and she said that was one and it does not count assume the position or leave now!
Over I went the next twelve were so bad but I stayed down, I don’t know if she made thirteen to make me stand or it was the first one across the upper thighs but Up I went!
Thats Two! was all she said!
I went back over and how I got to twenty was a loss to me!
she said Four more and remember if you stand one more time you will get dressed and leave!
I begged her to stop that I learned from my lesson!
She told me “I would not respect her if she did not finish and she would not be a Strict Disciplinarian if she let me off!
She gave me the next two that i swear I seen Lightening then she made a criss cross over the twenty two and was done!
She patted my back and told me to stay bend over!
I was thinking she was going to do more but then she was rubbing in some cool moist cream and told me to just relax and when she is done I could get up!
After we sat down “It was non to easy for me” we talked about what she did and I found out she was a Professional Life coach and Disciplinarian!
So that was how she could afford the apartment but she needed a full time job also as it in its self did not pay the bills.
I told her I was a CEO for a large accounting firm and I needed to hear what she told me!
We went out that night and she bid on the Painting the bidding topped what she had to bid so I told her I would help in the bidding she won it and it only cost me $100.00
She told me she would be in Hawaii in two months and wanted to get together! Then said “She needed to reaffirm my need to be Disciplined and Properly Thanked for her Painting”

Sin City Spanks story entry: ‘Burlesque Nightmare’

 

Readers,

The Sin City Spanks story contest turned out several very good entries, and ‘Burlesque Nightmare’ is an aptly-titled, fun romp. I know you’ll have fun with this one..

– Dana

 

Burlesque Nightmare

Heels, dance shoes, sequined bra tops and bottoms? Check, check, check, and check. I was looking through my dance bag and made sure I had everything I needed for my audition for the X Burlesque show at the Tropicana. Over the past month I had been auditioning for several of the adult dance shows in Las Vegas. I enjoyed dancing and performing, and needed the money to help pay for school. Dancing topless wasn’t my first choice, but I was struggling financially and was running out of options.

I pulled part of my curly red, shoulder length hair back, and put the finishing touches on my makeup. My brown eyes sparkled. I was excited for today. I certainly had the body and dance training they were looking for.

I grabbed my dance bag and keys, and headed to the car. Once I reached the hotel, I checked in at the audition table, took off my blue tank top and dance shorts, adjusted my pink sequined bra and briefs, and pinned on my number. My outfit was sensual, but not tasteless. I put on my ballet shoes and started stretching. After several minutes all of the dancers lined up and they recorded our height and took our pictures. We then did a basic ballet combination across the stage consisting of two piqué turns, two chainé turns, two assemblés, an arabesque, two more assemblés, and a grand jeté. There was a spotlight on me making it hard to see. Going in a straight line was key, so spotting was important.

After all 60 female dancers had gone, they cut 15 dancers, and I fortunately made the first cut. We then put on our heels and were taught a classical jazz routine performed to very fast music. I danced my best and made it through the next cut. For the final round we grabbed fans and performed a classical burlesque fan dance. There were still 20 dancers remaining and the producers told us they would inform us who had made callbacks within 24 hours. I smiled as I put my dance shorts and tank top on and said goodbye to my friends who were still there. I grabbed my bag and walked slowly back to car. As I left the theater I ran directly into my mother. She was 5’8”, only a little taller than I was, and slim with short black hair and piercing blue eyes. Except for the height and body shape we looked nothing alike.

“Nicole Elizabeth, what are you doing here?” her voice was very low and it was clear she was angry.

Continue reading “Sin City Spanks story entry: ‘Burlesque Nightmare’”

Sin City Spanks Story : Chapter Twelve

Readers,

Here’s a great entry to the Sin City Spanks story contest : “Chapter Twelve” by miss Randy Lee. Enjoy!

–  Dana

CHAPTER TWELVE
by Randy Lee

It was seven o’clock in the evening. The bright desert sun was still showing plenty of strength on this May evening. The congenial group of four women strolled down the sidewalk of the Las Vegas Strip leaning close to whisper humorous snippets in each other’s ears. Their laughs and giggles blended into the conversations and loud laughter of other groups on the sidewalk. Dotty, Hope, Lynette, and Pam had just graduated from one of the most prestigious universities in their home state of Texas and had come to Las Vegas to celebrate. Having spent four years preparing to take their places in society, focusing on different subjects before concentrating their efforts in their various major fields of study, it was agreed that this was a time for letting their collective hair down, figuratively speaking. Since their high school days, each girl’s educational pursuit had demanded a regimented life both inside and outside her classrooms. Now that their respective scholastic goals had been achieved, they were here to paint the town red! Hope began moving a little ahead of the others and approached the door of a Las Vegas business establishment. On it were the letters SPA in elaborate script style.
She turned to her friends, regarded them with a wide grin, and gestured toward the door. “This is it, girls,” she announced.
The other three women froze in their tracks, their faces showing disbelief. “Wait just a dadgum minute,” Lynette protested. “We’re supposed to be going to a casino. You know, as in gambling? We can go to a spa back home anytime we want, without shelling out all those bucks for airfare.”
“Okay, calm down, Lyn. This is a casino, I promise,” Hope assured her.
“So you’ve been here before?” Pam asked.
“Twice,” Hope confirmed. “My ex-boyfriend brought me here near the end of our junior year, and I came back last Christmas vacation to do some exploring by myself. I had a blast! I’ll bet y’all are gonna love it.”
“Oh, yeah?” This from Pam. “Whatta you bet?”
“We’ll discuss it later,” Hope replied, a hint of mystery in her voice.
“Hmmh!” Pam grunted skeptically.
Dotty, the quiet member of the group, and Lynette were unmoved—literally—from their positions alongside Pam.
Hope decided some coaxing was in order. “Awww, c’mon, y’all! What’s life without a little suspense and drama?”
“Oh, all right,” Pam conceded. She turned to her skeptical buddies and suggested, “Let’s go see what this ‘spa’ is all about.”
Hope pulled the door open and held it for the other three. They trooped in for a distance of about five feet and again were brought up short. Hope watched the three newcomers take in the room’s beautiful decor. There was furniture of rich, dark hardwood and upholstery in equally rich red and gold velvet and brocade. Satin treatments adorned mock windows. No source of water was evident, and no scent of either chlorine or massage oil rankled the nose. No people were evident, either. Not another soul occupied the exquisitely appointed room.
Dotty murmured, “This isn’t like any spa I ever saw before.”
Lynette echoed her observation and added, “Or casino, either.”
“It’s different, I’ll admit,” Hope acknowledged. “Well, come along. Let’s get this party started. I’ll show you the fun room where the gambling happens.”
She led her companions in the direction of a door which bore the letters NKO. As they approached, the sound of a ball hopping on a spinning roulette wheel could be heard. There was also the distinct click of a cue ball striking racked balls on a pool table. Hope pressed a button on the wall beside the door. The four women heard no sound, but a voice from a speaker above them said, “Identify.”
Hope spoke plainly, “Hope M. 7239.”
“Enter,” the voice said. A buzzer sounded, and Hope pushed the door open. A tall man wearing a red polo shirt tucked into black trousers stood guard at the door. He motioned the women to come in, glanced quickly beyond them in all directions, and closed the door. He gestured to an electronic scanner next to him and ordered, “Handprint.” Hope laid her right hand flat on the glass surface of the machine and held still. A light moved back and forth under the glass twice and then went out. A beep sounded, and the man said, “Okay.” Hope looked at him. He nodded, she removed her hand, and he indicated with a slight movement of his head that the four could move about the room freely.
As they walked farther into the room, Pam noted sarcastically, “That guy’s a real chatterbox.”

Continue reading “Sin City Spanks Story : Chapter Twelve”

10 More Reasons to Love Cane-iac

 

I couldn’t think of a witty intro here, but want to share with you some of my favorite Cane-iac items, most of which are beloved to me for their specific usefulness and ability to withstand more punishment than the butts they strike. Folks ask often which types of implements are good for different things, and, while this isn’t meant to be a comprehensive list, I think that each of these items has a place in one’s spanking arsenal.

So, here are ten things I love about Cane-iac, in no particular order and not including the fact that they, in general, rock.

–  Dana

 

1. Exotic Mighty Might – serious bang. I call mine (in Wenge wood) ‘Angry Cricket’. This is a great paddle for even the tiniest of butts, and packs a serious local wallop no matter whose bottom it hits.

Caneiac Mighty Might

 

2. Love Me Strap – delivers as named, ‘love taps’. This sweet, unsevere strap is excellent for OTK and standing strapping and gives a good sting without hiding your bottom.

Caneiac Love Me

 

3. Curse of Dana Wallop – run for your life. Cane-iac’s rubber implements are notoriously evil, and this angry little square of rubber sitting at the end of two delrin stems is no exception. Great bounce-action for uninitiated or lazy spankers!

Caneiac Curse Wallop

 

4. School House Cane – sort of the epitome of strict school disicpline, the 32″ Senior version of this traditional, crooked-handle cane is enough to bring any classroom to attention. The crook in the handle makes the cane easier to hold and direct, in my opinion.

Caneiac School House Cane

 

5. Dana’s Inferno – spencer-style pain-maker. It’s two-sided, walnut and maple, with eleven terrible holes for maximum impact; although this paddle has moved many bottoms to near-tears, I’ve yet to come near breaking it.

Caneiac Danas Inferno

 

6. Delrin Rug Beater – for punishment. Seriously. Usually, I only bring out this piece if I’m dealing either with serious infractions or a seriously tough bottom. Not for the faint of heart, or most other hearts, for that matter.

Caneiac Delrin Rug Beater

 

7. Russet 3 Tail Tawse – excellent all ’round leather implement. This is Cane-iac at their best – a traditional tawse with a Cane-iac twist; this is one of my most oft-used items, as it’s easy to adjust the impact force by adjusting one’s swing.

Caneiac Russet 3 Tail Tawse

 

8. Red Acrylic Paddle – red means stop. I like this paddle visually, as it’s an intimidating bright red, shiny sheet of acrylic that looks like it could (and, indeed, can) turn your bottom an equally terrible shade.

Caneiac Red Acrylic

 

9. Marwood Paddle – strict Miss Marwood’s Cane-iac paddle namesake is the same size as Dana’s Inferno, but a stingy 1/4″ thick, making it an incredibly stingy lesson learned.

Caneiac Marwood

 

10. Naughty Stick with Holes – bruiser. This one goes down in history as having been the first implement which My Bottom’s Bottom vetoed from further future use.

Caneiac Naughty Stick

 

 

Bad Boudin and Other Horrors

 

Readers,

I’m a transplanted Cajun-Country-bordering-Texan, living in the middle of the damn Mojave desert. I am reminded of this simply by looking out my bedroom window, the view from which features a stunning mountain vista in the distance (with the Stratosphere much closer), or stepping foot outside for three seconds (the day’s high will be a dry 101-ish). It’s hotter than hades here, and that’s saying something when you consider the area from which I hail.

“But it’s a dry heat” you say.

“Go to hell” I say in return, “Or just come here instead.”

There are lots of things to love about Las Vegas, but, as Dorothy kindly reminds us every year, there’s no place like home. And for me, there’s no food like Cajun food (throw Creole and Soul foods in there too, as it’s all been served to me on the same plate, most of my life) to make me feel like I’m at home.

Cajun/Creole/Soul food wasn’t something we ate in restaurants, it’s what we ate at home. Turnip greens and cornbread? Yes, please. Boiled crawfish with a side of potatoes and corn? Heck yeah! Boudin and cracklin (google it)? Oh, god save the queen..

So imagine my happiness when a little internet sleuthing paid off a few days ago – I’d done a general internet search for “boudin las vegas” and was absolutely tickled when a yelp-reviewed meat market on the other side of town showed up, with a comment reading, “Every kind of Cajun food you can imagine, even boudin!”, or something close, from a lady who seemed pretty darned happy. So, with images of my long-lost gastronomic loves dancing merrily in my head, I loaded up and made the excruciatingly long haul across town.

*If you’re wondering, it’s excruciating because the traffic lights here are what I believe to be the longest, worst-timed mechanisms in the free world. Coupled with the statistical fact that 6 of 10 drivers in Las Vegas are impaired at Any Given Time, and you have a recipe for extremely defensive driving and long, slow, harrowing trips just about anywhere.

 

 

Having finally arrived in one piece, I entered a cute little old school style meat market – heavy on meat, light on everything else. While perusing the fresh meats case, I noticed that boudin was conspicuously absent…so I strolled over to the freezer case.

Aha! Boudin. Mild and hot. Three links per package.

I grabbed three, headed for the counter, and hauled ass home – where I almost literally stared down this package of boudin until it thawed. Painful hours, my friends, painful hours.

Fantasies of smoked boudin, boudin balls, boudin dip, and other boudin-based concoctions made me a bit lightheaded, and the anticipated scent of boudin washed through my nostrils like the ghosts of food past and future. (Waxing poetic about food is not new, I’m just bad at it.)

Since the post’s titled Bad Boudin, you’ve naturally figured out by now that the boudin was, indeed, bad. More than bad. Mealy and watery and soupy and, just….gross.

 

 

My disappointment cannot be contained; my mortification shall not abate. Boudin made in Lake Charles, Louisiana, should not taste (or look or smell) like that.

I guess if I really, really want to revisit the food of my youth, I’m going to have to once again revisit the geography of it – and next time, I’ll bring a cooler full of dry ice.

–  Dana

 

PS. Please don’t drink and drive. Or text and drive. Or stare at your GPS and drive…you get the idea. Just drive, dammit.

 

Sin City Spanking Story Contest Winner

Readers,

Last month I received several entries for the “Sin City Spanks” story contest, and had a more difficult time than usual making a final decision. Ultimately, I chose “All Bets Are Off”, as I loved the character ‘Ma’s’ line about tickling….you’ll see.

Congratulations to our winning author, and I’m sure that you’ll all enjoy this entry and all the rest.

–  Dana

All Bets Are Off

All Bets Are Off

                “Wait! I can explain!” Crystal begged as the strong hands gripping her pulled her into a dark room. “It’s not what it looks like! OOOF!” she yelped, the wind leaving her body, as she was unceremoniously dumped onto a hard wooden chair. “That hurt,” she said gasping for breath.

The petite, bottle blonde blinked her eyes trying to breathe normally and get a good look at the person standing over her. It was impossible given that that the large male body was being lit from behind by the bright lights of the casino she had up until recently been happily gambling in. Well, gambling in the sense of winning a ton of the casino’s money by means that were anything but honest.

“Cheating is supposed to hurt,” the man grunted as he closed the door. “Think about that while you wait for Ma.”

Crystal shivered in the dark. She had seen enough of the room she was in to know that it was little larger than a closet. She contemplated banging on the door but who would hear her over the sounds of the slot machines, cheering players at the craps tables, and the music filling the brightly lit gambling floor? Instead she hugged her knees to her chest not caring that her short silver dress was riding up. Who would even notice in the dark?

After what seemed like an eternity, the door opened causing the young lady within to blink against the onslaught of light. “Oh, thank God!” Crystal said as she rubbed her eyes back into focus and saw a police officer standing there, “I was being held captive in here!” she said her hands going to her theatrically heaving bosom, which the outfit she was wearing accentuated to a most impressive degree.

“Detained ma’am, not held captive,” the officer said in a polite drawl, “On suspicion of defrauding a gaming establishment. A suspicion which is very much true given the security footage I have reviewed. And, given the amount you took, this constitutes grand larceny – a felony.”

Crystal swallowed hard hearing this but was not ready to give in yet. She sidled up to the officer her gait taking on an intoxicating sashay while her voice dropped into a purr, “I’m sure we can work something out officer,” she said huskily one perfectly manicured finger tracing a heart shape on the police officer’s chest teasingly.

“That would be between you and Ma, uh, the owner of the casino ma’am,” the police officer said stepping back. “Would you like to speak with her or prefer to take this down town?”

“Fine, let me meet the bitch,” Crystal said, with a sigh, her pretty face screwed up petulantly.

Crystal was not sure what to expect as she was led into the owner’s office. She thought it might be a bit more colorful given the garish lights and loud noises of the casino gaming floor and was almost disappointed that the room looked more like a lawyer’s office or something an executive would use – all dark wood, thick carpets, and expensive looking artwork. “You’re the owner?” she blurted seeing a petite red-headed woman about her own age standing beside the desk. “I thought you were the cocktail waitress!” she said sneeringly looking the young woman up and down.

The red-head laughed, a sound like tinkling bells. “I am the cocktail waitress silly, and you’re the ungrateful brat that not only didn’t tip me but also stole from Ma,” she said rolling her eyes. “Wrong move,” she said laughing again as the large leather chair which up until now had been facing the window slowly turned.

“I’m the owner,” the chair’s occupant said coolly in a tone that sent a shiver down Crystal’s spine. “Marjory Phillips-Brightsworth, but most people just call me Ma,” she said. “I hear someone’s been a naughty girl,” she finished raising an eyebrow and giving Crystal a look that turned her knees to jelly.

Crystal licked her lips nervously unsure what to say. Something about this woman made her very nervous. She looked nothing like Crystal’s mother but everything from the way she spoke, the way she held her head, and even the way she steepled her fingers in front of her chin gave Crystal visions of cutting switches, hard oak hairbrushes, and long minutes bawling in the corner – something that had not happened in several years.

“I…no, it’s not like that…I…I didn’t do anything wrong!” she stammered trying to find something to say to get out of this predicament.

“Well, that can always be decided by a court of law,” Ma said turning her attention to the police officer. “John, would you be so kind as to take this young lady to the police station. I will be pressing charges.”

“No! Wait!” Crystal said pulling away from the police officer who was reaching for her arm. “He said we could work something out! Please, let me work something out!”

Ma nodded and looked Crystal over carefully. The girl was trying her best to look elegant but the hem of her sparkly silver dress was frayed slightly speaking of something picked up at a thrift store and her shoes looked cheap and uncomfortable though stylish enough at a cursory glance. Ma guessed without the heels Crystal might make five foot two, but she noticed that Crystal was also doing her best to look not just taller but also older and more worldly that she was – while all the womanly curves were there the young lady in front of her lacked the poise and sophistication of the persona she was trying to emulate. “How old are you little girl?” she asked.

“Little Girl?” Crystal snapped, “I’m 25!”

The casino owner sighed and the cocktail waitress’s sprightly laugh filled the air again. Crystal was beginning to hate that laugh. “That is the last lie you tell me tonight young lady. The next one gets you a trip with the officer here,” Ma said sternly.

“Fine,” Crystal said her bottom lip pulled up into a pout, “I’m 19.”

“It seems we can add underage drinking and underage gambling to your list of charges,” Ma said shaking her head, “And given my casinos strict ID policy, I am betting you have a fake id in that faux Coach purse of yours.”

Crystal pouted again and stomped her foot in frustration, yes, actually stomped like a wilful toddler. “How do you know everything?!” she said her voice taking on a whining tone. It really was like talking to her own, seemingly omnipotent, mother.

The waitress laughed again, “Ma’s had lots of practice with lying little girls,” she said rubbing her bottom with a wink, “Lord knows she never lets me get away with anything,” she said her small hands continuing to rub under her short skirt.

“I let you get away with far too much,” Ma said rolling her eyes, a gesture she somehow made look elegant, “I think you are long due another maintenance spanking.”

“Wait, what? Spankings?” Crystal said laughing despite of, or perhaps because, of her nervousness. “You still get spanked?” she said looking at the waitress.

“Only when I need it,” the young woman said sagely, “though right now it would be my own pretty little tushie I’d worry about little miss thief,” she said glancing very meaningfully at Crystal’s backside.

“Uh, sorry Ma, I just got a call,” the police officer said motioning to the ear piece attached to his radio, “If this one gives you any trouble just call us back. I’m sure the ladies down at Florence would be more than happy to make her acquaintance,” he said before hurrying out of the room to whatever emergency dispatch had called about.

“Florence?” Crystal said unsure what that meant.

“The correctional facility where you are likely to end up if this goes forward officially,” Ma said matter-of-factly. “A pretty little girl like you would be very popular indeed.”

Crystal shivered wondering how all this went so wrong and tried to swallow back her fear. “Um, what about, uh, well, um, unofficially?”

“Unofficially you get your round little fanny whacked until you just think it is on fire!” the waitress said with her damned laugh again.

Ma sighed and pointed to the door. “Go back to work Becca. I think we can handle this without your commentary, though I will see you back here at the end of your shift. Bring your hairbrush,” she said in a tone that brooked no argument.

“Yes ma’am,” the young red-head said laughing again and flipping up the back of her short skirt to show her matching red panties below as she sauntered out of the office.

“That girl,” Ma said shaking her head, “she won’t be laughing in a few hours when I am done with her. So which is it to be – official or unofficial?”

Crystal bit her bottom lip her hands playing nervously with the hem of her skirt. “Uh, well, um, if we do the, um, the spanking,” she said her face blushing crimson, “will that be the end of it?”

“It will keep your pretty little backside out of jail if that is what you mean,” Ma said with a nod.

“Okay,” Crystal said in barely a whisper, “I’ll take the spanking.”

The elegant casino owner smiled and stood, smoothing her skirt, before moving to the front of the desk. As Ma approached her, Crystal realized that the large luxurious chair had made the woman appear much smaller than she actually was. Standing and getting closer, Crystal realized that Ma had to be close to six feet tall and had a figure that showed she focused as much on staying in shape as she did on her business. Even in her six inch heels, Crystal was shorter than the stern looking lady who was about to spank her behind red.

“Instead of standing there, your mouth open like a cod fish,” Ma said borrowing a line from Mary Poppins, “how about you pass me over the spanking chair,” she said indicating a simple, sturdy, straight-backed wooden chair that until now Crystal hadn’t noticed. “Yes, I have a chair just for spanking,” Ma said noticing the young woman’s startled look.

“Do you do this kind of thing often?” Crystal asked as she moved the chair into the spot Ma indicated. “I mean, you must if you have a special chair and all.”

Ma nodded and sat on the chair arranging her clothes so as not to wrinkle them. “I’ve always found that people are going to make mistakes; they’re going to mess up. I could fire them. I could have them arrested. I could write those people off as a failure. But in a town like Vegas, even with all its people, I’d soon run out of staff. It’s far better to settle things in a more direct, yet far less drastic manner.  Speaking of which, I think you know where you are supposed to be little girl,” she said patting her lap.

Crystal was only too aware of where she was supposed to be and draped herself expertly over the waiting knees.

“I’d say you have done this before young lady,” Ma said as she lifted Crystal’s short skirt and laid it over her lower back. “Did you mother spank you often?” she asked tugging down the tiny thong the teenager had on underneath. “Running around wearing skimpy underwear like this, I’d hope she tanned your hide for you at least once a week.”

Crystal blushed again and nodded her head. “Yes ma’am, she, well, maybe not that often, but yes, she did spank me.”

“Too bad the lesson didn’t take,” Ma said raising her strong right arm high above the now bare bottom presented so vulnerably over her lap. “Let’s hope this one stays with you a little longer.”

Any response Crystal may have made to that comment was cut off by Ma’s sturdy palm landing stingingly on her right bottom cheek. Despite being the veteran of countless over-the-knee spankings, the sheer force of the smack caused her to kick her feet and look back in surprise.

“Yes, a spanking from me hurts,” Ma said reaching up with her non-spanking hand to smooth a strand of hair off of Crystal’s face. “But if a spanking tickled all little girls would want one now wouldn’t they?” she said landing a matching spank to Crystal’s other bare bottom cheek.

Crystal winced and decided that this little girl sure as heck didn’t want one! A sentiment that only grew as her bottom bounced, jiggled, and reddened under Ma’s well practiced spanking hand. Tears soon dripped down Crystal’s cheeks and her yelps turned to cries, which soon turned to begging. “Please! I’ll be good! OW! Pleeease! It hurts!” she sniffled trying to reach back to cover her bottom.

“Yes, I know, but we already talked about how spankings hurt,” Ma said continuing to spank every inch of Crystal’s well-presented backside. Actually, the young woman’s exposed rear-end was blushing a rosy pink from the backs of her knees to the top of her exposed bottom cheeks. Ma was a firm believer that thighs should not be spared even if spanks there would show below the hem of a naughty girl’s short dress or skirt. “How about we talk about how you aren’t going to steal anymore.”

“OW! I won’t! I promise I won’t!” Crystal yelped as she tried to twist and turn to avoid the punishing spankings. “For real!”

Ma sighed, “’I won’t’ could apply to anything young lady. Be specific or how am I supposed to know that we are both on the same page?” she said continuing the pepper Crystal’s bottom with firm spanks.

“I won’t, OW! I won’t steal anymore and I won’t even think about, about stealing and and and OW! I won’t do it again I swear!” Crystal cried tears running down her cheeks.

Ma nodded and rested her hand on Crystal’s now crimson bottom. “Hmm…this is one hot little backside,” she said feeling each cheek in turn. “I’m inclined to believe you, but why on earth did you try to steal from me in the first place?”

Crystal sniffled and tried to get her composure back now that the spanking had stopped. “I don’t have any money, and no one is hiring so I can’t get a job. You know how the economy has been.”

“How about college?” Ma asked rubbing the bare cheeks over her knee gently.

Crystal sighed, “I can barely afford rent, let alone college,” she said wiping her tears with on hand, while leaving the other on the carpet to support herself.

Ma nodded and patted Crystal’s bottom causing the young woman to tense. “Oh, sorry, it helps me think,” she said noticing her distress. “I have a proposition for you – one I made once before and so far have not regretted. How about you come and work here for me?”

“Wait, work here? Uh, really? I just cheated and tried to steal money from you,” Crystal said her tone of voice reflecting the shock her face was showing.

“Well, I’ve found that ‘it takes one to know one’ is certainly true when it comes to cheats and thieves. Becca must have caught two dozen cheats by now. Who do you think tipped security off to your little scheme?” Ma asked.

“Becca? The waitress?” Crystal gasped.

“One and the same,” Ma said with a smile. “So what do you say?”

“Um, what’s the catch?”

“Well, if I ever catch you stealing or cheating again you will be arrested, and if your attitude or work ethic ever slips you will find yourself right back where you are now – over my knee getting your little behind smacked until it steams. Besides that I will pay you a fair wage and pay your tuition. Of course, if your grades ever slip below a B, you won’t sit for a week. It’s the same arrangement I have with Becca.”

“I’ll do it,” Crystal said with a small nod. It was the best offer she’s had in years.

“Great. I’ll draw up the legal documents and get Becca to get you a uniform. You can start tonight. I hope you can serve drinks with a sore bottom,” Ma said giving Crystal’s bottom another smack for good measure. “Welcome to the family.”

DanaKaneSpanks.com Sunday Update : 5/25 (I know it’s Monday, dammit..)

 

Jealousy

Preview Video:

 

(POV) Barracuda : The Interview

NEW DVDs!

Marital Discipline III

Marital Discipline 3 with Dana Kane

(Eight Canes, Foreplay, Caught Masturbating Again, You Asked for It, Bruised for Brownies, and Water War! Runtime approx. 63 minutes.)

 

Brand New Ass

Dana Kane Brand New Ass

 

(BNA: Red (2 Scenes), BNA: Lacey (2 scenes), BNA: Agatha (2 scenes), 60+ minutes.)

For more spanking videos, preview photos, scene description, and join links, visit:
Individual downloadable spanking video scenes also available on my
Clips4SaleScolding and SpankingLibrary studio pages.

When it rains, it pours.

 

I just wanted to stop in here for a minute and make sure that I’m not the only one:

 

Please raise your hand if you’ve recently said, “Ohholyhell, if one more heinous thing happens over the course of this week I am going to lose my freaking mind!” (or some equivalent)…

 

Okay. That makes me feel better. And hopefully, you don’t feel silly sitting there in front of your computer with your hand in the air.

 

–  Dana

Conversations with Spankos : One question. A million answers.

(*Remember, this is only a ‘conversation’ if you comment in the box below, so that other readers can share in the experience. Sending your comment in an email to me sort of defeats the point.)

 

Readers,

One of the most often discussed topics for new and exploring spankos (and many old hats, too) is, “Where does it come from?” 

I don’t know if we ever figure it out completely, and I think that that’s probably a very good thing (as the unknown causes us to explore) but I still want to know what you think about this short, not-so-simple question:

Where does IT come from?

Your spanking fetish. Your need. Your interest. Whatever you want to call it. When and where do you think yours derived, or can you not remember a time when you weren’t ‘already into’ spanking?

(We usually avoid pre-adult spanking conversations here, but I’m going to relax this a bit for obvious reasons – most of us were interested in spanking before we were able to drive so it reasons that we’d need to talk about it in terms of age and experience.)

Maybe we can all figure it out together…

 

–  Dana

Repeated forced viewing of my pets.

 

Go ahead, pretend you don’t like looking at pictures of cuddly critters.

I’m gonna post these anyway, because I do.

DK Reno
Reno the Catnip Kitty

 

DK Jungle Cats
Jungle Cats (Reno, Noodle, and Tahoe)

 

DK Mr Pancakes
Pancakes -plural. For obvious reasons.

 

DK Pretty GIrl
The Pretty Girl, living up to her name.
DK Buddy
Buddy, who is gassy – but we love him anyway, and he’s sorry.

Es el paraíso (Unrelated to Spanking but totally related to happiness)

Readers,

I’ve taken a fair few vacations, and they’ve all been nice enough – the Smoky Mountains are gorgeous in the fall when leaves change colors, and there’s a cool/funky nude river-beach just outside Portland where I once spent the day. Sitting on a big deck on the back end of a ship in the middle of big water is pretty damn amazing, too. There has never been a time when I’ve been ‘away’ that I’ve not been happy about that away-ness in some way, and I knew that this vacation would be just the same.

Away-ness makes me breathe more deeply for some reason, and I become adventurous, something which I don’t consider myself to be nearly enough in everyday life (although you may disagree). There’s something about getting out of one’s comfort zone and taking chances – even if, for me, taking chances means swimming underwater and drinking alcoholic beverages at lunch – that makes us feel that much more alive.

This past week I was Super Alive.

 

IMG_3899

 

A week in small-town-anywhere will likely force a busy person to take things more slowly, but this small town is something special. We spent a week eating, strolling, swimming, and napping, surrounded by the gorgeous Caribbean, lush mangrove jungles, and one of the most spectacular places on the planet – the Great Barrier Reef.

Instead of doing the typical tourist thing, we decided to hop off the beaten path just a bit and ended up having quite possibly the best time of our lives. We rented a private home for the week, and I should say right at the outset that this place was Obnoxiously Fabulous – two full floors of indoor living area topped by a 3rd floor outdoor patio, pool, and party area, with a 4th floor rooftop observation deck. I should also say right at the outset that this was, by far, the least expensive vacation rental I’ve ever taken.

IMG_3871

IMG_3863

 

I could type for a very long time about the variety of birds seen and heard from this deck, but you’d have to see it for yourself. Also, the neighbors had chickens, roosters, and at least one turkey, so the usual sound of traffic, ambulances, and other noise pollution were replaced by a definite organic, winged cacophony that didn’t let up even at night.

Nighttime also brought out the geckos, gigantic prisma-color moths, and goodness knows what else scurrying around out in the mangrove directly – and I mean directly as in right up against the home’s perimeter wall – behind us.

Can I tell you how wonderful and wild and perfect this place is? There’s a crazy mix of very old, small, rickety homesteads, built-up homes like the one I rented, and cool little Mexican hotels – no huge resorts in the town proper and no way to insulate oneself from the local culture…exactly what I wanted.

One morning this happened:

IMG_3875

 

And all was right with the world.

And then that evening, this happened:

IMG_3876

 

Feel that?

Now let’s move on to one of the main reasons I almost always choose Mexico: the food. I believe (and I know that Anthony Bourdain would disagree and I vehemently do NOT care) that Latin America turns out the most consistently delicious food on the planet. In my opinion, as many of you already know, there are few foods more perfect than the taco. A simple corn tortilla rolled around nearly anything – how could you possibly go wrong? There is no lime shortage in Mexico, either, and I didn’t see a single bruised, black, shriveled avocado the entire time. Things are Lush and Fat in the Yucatan, and the food reflects the bounty of all that humidity.

I ate the hands-down-best-ever-on-the-planet shrimp cocktail – twice, actually – and likely downed more guacamole than anyone should rightfully admit; there were organic eggs for breakfast and mangoes so ripe and sweet that you could smell ’em right through the skin. And the habañeros? Ohholyhell…

There are no photos of the food. This should give you some indication of just how little time it spent sitting in front of me.

Oh, and cocktails. I should probably mention the cocktails. Since I don’t usually drink at all, any beverage stronger than fresh, sweet iced tea is likely going to make me a little wonky; I was wonky a fair few times last week.

It’s the Mojitos, you see, and the sun, and the sea – they conspire together to make you believe that nothing would taste better at this very moment than some really strong rum, watered down a teeny bit with a few drops of water and a couple bruised mint leaves. Do not be fooled by the steaming coolness rising from that tall glass, my friend. It is a ruse to lure in the unwary drinker and make her need a nap at 2pm. I believe I had a total of about ten alcoholic beverages during the course of the week, which should cover my quota well into 2017.

When you order your Mojito on the beach and drink it while smoking a cigar, the nice man brings you an ashtray that he just carved out of a green coconut:

IMG_3905

I loved that man.

Hell, I loved everyone I met. Totally enamored with Latin culture, language, and people, I always feel pretty damn at home here, even though my understanding of the language is woefully inadequate (something which I plan to change immediately). We met several folks who live and work in the fishing village who are what one would call the Salt of the Earth, including one cool cat tour guide who seemed to know everyone and everything going on at any given moment. He even helped me find those cigars.

Speaking of those cigars: One needs certain things no matter where one is, but those essentials change depending on the surroundings. I’ve found it to be true that anytime I’m in the Caribbean, I need Cuban cigars. This is likely a reaction to a decades-long embargo in the U.S. which causes me to have the ‘want what I can’t have’ response, so every time I’m there I buy and smoke with abandon.

Also coffee:

IMG_3892

 

Don’t think I’ve forgotten about the Sea..

That’s the reason for every single decision I make in terms of vacation travel – if there’s no beach involved, I’m likely highly uninterested. I know, I know, there are gorgeous places all over the world; ancient civilizations and art and culture and food and terrain that I’ve never experienced which could and likely would surely outdo my beloved Mexican Caribbean in a way or two. Again, I do not care. I am willfully and endlessly small-minded in this area.

Because I spent a large amount of my early life hanging out at the edge of the Gulf of Mexico and various rivers, ponds, sandpits, and the like, I’m obsessively attracted to water. I can sit, clear-headed, for hours, staring at the line where the water meets the sky, not a care in the world. Add in the fact that at NO time during my life did I ever experience water clean enough for one to actually see one’s feet when standing at ankle-depth, and you have a perfect storm of beach-bum-itis. And baby, I got it bad.

This time I did something that I thought I’d never do – I went underwater. Pretty far underwater, too. About 20 feet, which to me seems like a really long way down when there aren’t gills involved.

Also sharks.

But I did it. Snuba. Like a cross between snorkel and scuba, these two nice boys hook you up to a really long air hose that’s attached to your very own floaty thing; they give you some flipper thingies for your feet (try to keep up, I know this is getting technical..) and teach you how to do the air-breathing without drowning, which is vitally important. They also teach you hand signals to be used underwater, since you can’t talk through your air-breathing thingy (although I did yell ‘shit’ when I saw a large barracuda, all that came out was “bubblebubblebubble”). This was a super exciting little excursion and I got to see lots of really beautiful coral, a teeny bright-red ray, lobsters, aforementioned barracuda, and even an undersea cenote (google it). When it was done, however, I immediately remembered that I am 41 and don’t swim in the ocean often (see Las Vegas on the map?) – because my entire body decided to basically shut down on the walk back to the rental house, where I napped the nap of the partially-dead-by-snuba.

That was okay, too, though, because it was the perfect excuse to go back for a second massage..

 

I’d like to say, here and now, that it’s likely I will live in Latin America sometime during the course of my life.

This is why:

IMG_3904

 

There is absolutely nothing you can say to top that, mi amigo. Don’t even try.

 

 

Random post- spanking photos

 

Here are a few random post- spanking photos from recent playtimes:

 

Dana Kane Spanking Photo
He asked for it..I promise.

 

Dana Kane spanking photo
This one is a couple days old..

 

Agatha Delicious Spanking photo
..and here’s a shot from Agatha Delicious’ Twitter feed, the day after her first spanking ever!

Don’t talk to me right now (Unrelated to spanking)

 

I had oral surgery last week. Endodontics, they call it, and it’s as much fun as it sounds.

Supposedly the endangered tooth had “roots like a hula dancer” (and I’m quoting the regular dentist here). Having never been compared to a hula dancer before, I initially found this somewhat complimentary – until she informed me that, instead of a regular old dental procedure, I’d be receiving a Special One.

Not special like birthday wish special or snow day special, but special like extra needles and several open-mouthed hours spent breathing directly into the faces of masked strangers special. Special in the I-don’t-take-pain-meds-so-this-is-really-gonna-suck special way.

And it does, indeed, suck. But not in the way you think. I feel pretty fine now, all things considered, but the event itself was nothing short of exquisitely awful, as all dental visits are required to be, by law, and I cannot seem to get the picture of it out of my mind.

Okay, not exactly the picture of it, even, but the picture of what I think about every single time I think of going to the dentist.

This:

 

 

 

A Cheekie Update

Readers,

Since posting ‘Cheekie Pays Her Dues’, I’ve received several emails asking about Cheekie and what she’s doing now.
I’m pleased to report that miss Cheekie is hard at work in her new endeavor – blogging! – and you may visit her new place at:

http://cheekiegirl.blogspot.com/

She’ll be reviewing spanking videos (she’s done her OWN first scene, which I just love), writing about her experiences, and posting up some of her very own original spanking stories.

Cheekie’s a really sweet girl who’s determined to make a place for herself in the spanko community, and I think she’s going to fit in quite well.

CheekiePaysHerDues-002

We’re also hoping to film more scenes with Cheekie later this year, once she’s back in the Southwest again, and give her the chance to up that tolerance a bit.~

Take a peek at her blog – be NICE – and stay tuned!

 

–  Dana

Introducing a new spanking writer

 

Readers,

Here’s a great little spanking story by a new writer named Amy Phillips. Amy’s quite the spanko by the sound of it, and I’m hoping that she’ll share more of her excellent imagination soon. Enjoy!

–  Dana

 

*****

 

Introduction

 

Lena’s senior year wasn’t ending exactly as she had planned. It was the Saturday before graduation and while the majority of her class was off spending time with their families or holding drinking parties in the woods, her and a select few of her senior classmates were spending their last weekend of the school year in detention. At least Lena had her best friend and co-conspirator, Jenny, at her side. The two 18-year-olds had grown up together and Jenny was the yin to Lena’s yang. Lena was athletic, studious, and relatively reserved. She was tall; she stood about 5’9 and she had been blessed with an hour glass figure. She was in a serious relationship with an older girl, Carolyn, who was 20 and studying to be a lawyer.

 

Jenny, on the other hand, was no jock. She made average grades—mostly due to her own laziness—but she was dangerously witty and charming. Jenny was short and slightly built. At around 5’2, her height made her look as though she was Lena’s sidekick, which was ironic given their dynamic. Jenny had never been in a serious relationship, but the never-ending cycle of boys coming in and out of her bedroom made it clear that this was a matter of choice as opposed to circumstance.

 

Most teachers at St. Ann’s would call Jenny a “troublemaker.” Lena’s parents would call her “spirited.” Lena, on the other hand called her her platonic soulmate. A platonic soulmate with a knack for getting the two young ladies into horrible situations. When Jenny had initially dreamt up the senior prank that landed them in the last Saturday detention of the year, Lena couldn’t resist participating. Lena’s older girlfriend, Carolyn, had warned her to either stop Jenny or just stay out of it, but what fun was that? It was the last week of school—what was the worst that could happen?

 

Lena quickly learned what the worst that could happen was.

 

The Monday preceding Lena and Jenny’s detention started just like any other Monday. However, their Sunday night hadn’t been like any other Sunday night. Jenny had rigged an elaborate lever and pulley system on the school roof capable of pulling up to a couple hundred pounds, which, conveniently was about how much their dean of students, Miss Hafey’s office furniture all weighed. Miss Hafey was a relatively new hire. Jenny, a perennial staple in the dean of students’ office, first met her just a couple months back. Their initial meeting was not under great circumstances. Jenny had celebrated her 18th birthday by skipping out on school to go to a local amusement park with her boy-of-the-week. She had been spotted there by another student’s parents and reported to the school. The next morning, she was called into Miss Hafey’s office for a chat.

 

Jenny Meets Miss Hafey: A Flashback

 

Miss Hafey was likely no older than 35, which was a stark contrast from St. Ann’s old Dean of Students and disciplinarian, Old Man Leroy. Nobody called him Old Man Leroy to his face—not that he would hear them if they had—but he earned the nickname for being quite elderly and generally oblivious to the goings-ons of the students. Back in his heyday he had been a formidable dean, but he refused to retire despite his declining ability to do his job and thus became a bit of an inside joke amongst students like Jenny. After school detention was practically an extra-curricular activity for Jenny and she had played a large role in turning Old Man Leroy into a joke by holding a betting pool on the topic of how long it would take before he fell asleep while supervising detention.

 

Within moments of meeting Miss Hafey, she became quickly aware that this woman was no joke. Despite her “not-f*cking-around” aura—for lack of a better description, Miss Hafey was friendly. She smiled when she introduced herself to Jenny, which played oddly in juxtaposition to the circumstances under which they were meeting.

 

“Hello, you must be Jenny.” said the long-haired, brunette woman to the girl in front of her. “I’m Miss Hafey, but you may prefer to think of me as new Old Man Leroy.” she announced with a wry grin.

“How did she know I called him that?” Jenny thought to herself, but then quickly brushed it off. She refused to allow the new dean’s confidence and general soundness of mind rattle her. She was the one who was really in charge after all, just like she had been with Old Man Leroy; if she didn’t assert her dominance now, this woman could make the rest of her senior year hell. She sat down while forcing herself to yawn and look bored.

 

“Hello, Mrs. Hapey, what can I do for you?” Jenny said, putting her feet up on Miss Hafey’s desk, and mentally high-fiving herself for her purposeful butchering of the new dean’s name.

 

“You can call me by my actual name, for one.” Miss Hafey said, in a serious tone of voice. “I can see that you’re not one for pleasantries, so I’m going to cut to the chase here, Jenny. I know you. I dealt with students like you every day at my previous job. When I was your age, I was you. You’re not in charge here; I am. If I feel like you’ve forgotten that for even a second, I won’t hesitate to turn you over my knee.”

 

Jenny was frozen. Although Pennsylvania allowed corporal punishment, the school hadn’t used it since the 1980s.

 

“W-Wait, what?” Jenny stammered. She had a stutter as a child that she thought she had completely eradicated. She was wrong.

 

“You heard me, Jennifer. Things are changing around here. You may still be in school, but you’re a grown woman now. If you choose to act with the maturity of a child, I will make you feel like one. I’m not here to make friends and I’m not here to be a joke. I’m here to keep order, enforce the rules, and make sure you graduate with grades better than the Cs you’ve been pulling. If you’re disrespectful, I will spank you over my knee. If you break school rules, I will paddle you. And if you really step out of line, I won’t hesitate to add lines to your backside.” Miss Hafey informed Jenny, without once breaking eye contact.

 

“Alrighty, then.” Jenny said in a humorous tone, half out of nervousness and half out of determined defiance. “If that’s all you wanted to say, I guess I’ll be on my way. Good to meet you. Let’s do this again sometime. Maybe over tea and crumpets.” Jenny snarked as she got up to leave Miss Hafey’s office.

 

“Not so fast.” Miss Hafey said as she used Jenny’s shoulder to guide her back into her seat. “I received an anonymous tip that you spent yesterday at an amusement park, which is odd because your mother—who sounds a lot like you now that I think about it—called the school yesterday saying you wouldn’t be able to make it because you were on your deathbed with strep-tibia which, funny enough, isn’t a real illness.”

 

“It is, too. My knees would not stop coughing all day.” Jenny barked back, rubbing her left knee. “The doctors say it’s a miracle I’m up and walking.”

 

“You know what, Jenny? When you leave my office it’s going to be a miracle if you’re down and sitting.” Miss Hafey threatened. She pulled a hairbrush out of her desk drawer, pulled a straight-back chair out of her office’s storage closet, and beckoned Jenny over to her.

 

Jenny froze. She had never been spanked before and quite frankly didn’t believe Miss Hafey’s threats until this very moment.

 

Miss Hafey felt that Jenny could use a sound paddling, but she sensed this was the first time Jenny was being exposed to corporal punishment and wanted to be relatively gentle. Relatively. Besides, the most serious issue at hand here wasn’t Jenny’s skipping school, but her blatant lack of respect. Going over the older woman’s knee for a spanking would be significantly more humbling than a paddling.

 

“I’m waiting.” Miss Hafey said, almost teasingly, as she took a seat in her straight-back chair.

 

Jenny felt her legs betray her and she began moving toward her new dean. When she was close enough, Miss Hafey pulled her over her lap and lifted her skirt. She started Jenny’s spanking very mildly. Jenny tried her best to remain stoic, but despite the spanking’s lack of intensity, she began wiggling and begging for the spanking to end not even two minutes in.

 

“Are you going to respect me?” Miss Hafey asked inbetween spanks.

 

“Yes!” cried Jenny.

 

“Are you going to purposefully mispronounce my name?” Miss Hafey continued.

 

“No!” cried Jenny, her face reddening with embarrassment.

 

“Are we going to have anymore meetings like this in the future?”

 

“Probably!..Wait, I mean no! I mean no!” Jenny panicked.

 

Miss Hafey stopped spanking just long enough to have a silent chuckle, grateful that her new charge couldn’t see her amusement and then started spanking Jenny’s pink backside harder.

 

“Well, at least you’re honest.” Miss Hafey said, rolling her eyes and picking up the pace of the spanking even more.

 

Jenny was regretting that honesty. She started wiggling harder and pleading more. When Miss Hafey felt that Jenny had been sufficiently humbled, she dropped the hairbrush and pulled Jenny’s skirt down. When Jenny stood up to face her, her cheeks were much redder than her backside was.

 

“I don’t want to see you in here again unless it’s strictly for tea and crumpets.” Miss Hafey informed Jenny.

 

Jenny blushed harder and choked out a “Yes, Miss Hafey.” while staring at the floor. She didn’t cry, but her eyes did tear up slightly.

 

Miss Hafey noticed, but felt little sympathy. “Good.” she commented. “Go to class.” she commanded while propelling her out of her office with a parting swat.

 

Jenny sped out of the room as fast as she could and went to her AP Physics class she had with Lena. Lena saw that she looked disheveled when she entered the classroom.

 

“Did you get in a lot of trouble for skipping yesterday?” Lena inquired.

 

“Nope. The new dean seems like a real pushover.” Jenny lied.

 

The next few months were a game of cat and mouse for Jenny and Miss Hafey. Infractions that Jenny wouldn’t have thought twice about committing under Old Man Leroy’s watch were punished swiftly under Miss Hafey’s reign as dean. Not unfairly, but swiftly. In fact, Miss Hafey had grown quite fond of Jenny in a maternal way. She spent a lot of time with Jenny—not that she had much of a choice since she supervised detention and Jenny managed to spend almost every afternoon there.

 

If any of her friends had asked her, including Lena, Jenny would declare that she hated Miss Hafey in a way that was not unlike a knee-jerk reaction. But over the course of their frequent interactions, she developed a fondness for her as well. Aside from her regular trips to Miss Hafey’s office for discipline, she would occasionally stop in for help with homework or just general life advice. Sometimes, in a way she couldn’t explain, she even enjoyed her disciplinary trips to Miss Hafey’s office. Not the spanking itself, but the one-on-one attention she received. Jenny had always craved attention—regardless of whether it was negative.

 

As the year wound down, Jenny began to feel anxious about graduating. Lena was planning on attending an ivy league school out of state and although her test scores were high, Jenny’s grades weren’t good enough to merit an acceptance anywhere but the local community college. Pretty soon her best friend would be hundreds of miles away and her weekly routines with Miss Hafey would be coming to an end. Despite tricking others into believing she was a free-spirit, Jenny thrived on routine. The impending elimination of her current one made her panic. This panic was the catalyst that made her launch a plan to ensure that Miss Hafey did not forget her and that Lena and her would have a memory to reminisce about over breaks from college.

 

The Prank: Present Day

 

Jenny was the kind of kid who planned for her senior prank the way that some girls plan for their weddings. In place of planning for bridesmaids and a guest list, she had planned her co-conspirators and victims. Miss Hafey’s arrival at St. Ann’s School quickly shook up her prank plans. Originally, she had wanted to do something that would affect all members of the school. Filling the pool with jello, farm animals in the cafeteria, locking herself in a closet with the school’s PA system and playing “Never Gonna Give You Up” by Rick Astley on repeat. These plans were dead and buried. She had a very specific victim in mind for her senior prank now: Miss Hafey.

 

Her idea to put all of Miss Hafey’s office furniture on the roof wasn’t necessarily an original idea, but it was a classic. Jenny was able to get the keys off of one of the night-time janitors she smoked weed with occasionally. Convincing Lena to participate wasn’t difficult. Lena was concerned that her girlfriend, Carolyn, would be upset when she found out that she had indulged Jenny in her fantasy, but she couldn’t say no to her friend. Her enthusiasm was contagious and somewhat intoxicating. That Sunday evening, they used the night-time janitor’s keys to get into the school, a longboard to roll Miss Hafey’s office furniture outside, and the lever and pulley system that Jenny had built days before to place the furniture on the roof.

 

“You have a C- in Physics, but you figured out how to get 200 lbs worth of office furniture on a roof in a matter of minutes.” Lena laughed while pulling the final piece of furniture up onto the roof.

 

“What can I say? I’m the queen.” declared Jenny while lighting up a cigarette and enjoying their handiwork.

 

“Carolyn is going to murder me if she ever finds out I helped you do this.” Lena worried out loud; her face sobering.

 

“Carolyn will never find out, dude. Relax. Hey, let’s go through her desk!” Jenny suggested.

 

“No! That’s so wrong.” Lena said, shooting her down.

 

“No more or less wrong than putting the entire contents of her office on the school roof.” Jenny said, flicking her cigarette butt off the roof and into the school parking lot. Jenny began going through the drawers, finding an array of items ranging from benign office supplies to the paddle that Miss Hafey had used to punish her just a few days prior for trying to eat a sandwich during the school’s end of the year mass.

 

“You know, what? I kind of want a cigarette. I’ve never had one.” stated Lena, staring enviously at Jenny’s pack. She had always refrained from smoking because of athletics, but she wouldn’t be playing in college and all of her seasons were finished, so why not at least see what she had been missing out on?

 

Jenny handed her one and Lena lit it, quickly inhaled too much smoke, then entered a coughing fit.

 

“Yeah I wasn’t missing much. That was pretty terrible.” Lena coughed and threw her still-lit cigarette off the school’s roof into the parking lot.

 

At that exact moment, Miss Hafey had just exited her car in the parking lot and was approaching the school. She had forgotten an important form in her filing cabinet that she needed to fill out before tomorrow. Reluctantly, she returned to the school to retrieve it and as she was walking toward the school, a lit cigarette fell from the sky and nearly hit her.

 

“What on earth…?” Miss Hafey wondered, looking around for signs of life. Examining the area, she noticed a longboard not dissimilar to the one she had confiscated from Jenny months ago for riding through the halls and something dangling from the school roof.

 

“This is not how I want to spend my Sunday night.” she thought, sighing and entering the school enroute to the roof.

 

When she reached the roof, she saw Jenny and Lena packing their bags to leave, along with an exact replica of her office’s setup.

 

“Seriously?” Miss Hafey asked, fuming.

 

“Shit.” said Lena. For a brief moment she considered jumping, but the school was too high up. She was not nearly as acquainted with Miss Hafey as Jenny was, but she had been on the receiving end of her paddle a couple of times. Each time, she had gotten it even worse from her girlfriend, Carolyn, when she found out.

 

“Go home. Go to bed. Be at the school tomorrow morning at 6 to help me reassemble my office.” Miss Hafey commanded.

 

“Yes, ma’am.” Lena said obediently, practically running toward the stairs.

 

Jenny took her time, walking past Miss Hafey with a barely concealed grin. This was what she wanted, after all. She didn’t necessarily want to get caught so soon and she hadn’t wanted Lena to go down with her, but more or less this was all part of the plan.

 

Jenny’s demeanor wasn’t unnoticed by Miss Hafey. As Jenny walked past her, she grabbed her upper arm and twisted the girl to face her.

 

“Do you think this is funny?” she demanded.

 

“I don’t not think this is funny.” Jenny quipped back.

 

Miss Hafey dragged Jenny over to her desk, bent her over it, and pulled out the paddle Jenny had found just minutes earlier. She lit into Jenny quickly and determinedly. She administered five of the hardest swats she had ever meted out at lightning speed, causing Jenny to burst into tears.

 

“Go home. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Miss Hafey said, trying to suffocate any rising sympathy she had for the crying girl.

 

“Yes ma’am.” Jenny cried, feeling an overwhelming sense of regret.

 

Very little sleep was had by any parties involved that night. Both Jenny and Lena arrived at the school the next day at 5:55, not wanting to anger Miss Hafey more. They quietly transported Miss Hafey’s furniture from the roof back to the floor and reassembled her office. Although it took little time to get the furniture onto the roof, it took the girls significantly more time to get it back down. So long, in fact, that by the time they were finished school had already began and word of their prank had spread throughout the senior class. Jenny’s goal had been achieved. Her prank was legendary, however, she could care less. She spent any and all time she normally would have spent basking in glory worrying about her impending punishment.

 

When Jenny and Lena were finally finished rearranging Miss Hafey’s office, the senior class was called to assembly. Relieved that their punishment was postponed at least until after the assembly, the girls gratefully walked to the auditorium.

 

Jenny and Lena were the last ones to arrive at the assembly so when they reached the auditorium, it was already filled with their 18-year-old peers. They couldn’t get seats together, so they settled for sitting across the aisle from one another.

 

Miss Hafey walked onto the auditorium stage and the student body silenced. Normally Principal Riley was the one who led assemblies so this was unconventional for the students.

 

“Last night, two of our students broke into our school, stole my belongings, and placed them on the roof.” Miss Hafey began.

 

Jenny’s stomach dropped. She realized what was about to happen before Lena did.

 

“Since these two students chose to disrespect me in such a public manner, I think it’s only fitting that their punishment be carried out in a public manner.” Miss Hafey continued.

 

Lena’s stomach dropped, too, and she made nervous eye contact with Jenny.
“Will Lena Cruz and Jennifer Goldman please join me on the stage?” Miss Hafey asked.

 

Lena and Jenny began to slowly approach the stage. As they got closer, they noticed the paddle on the floor and Miss Hafey turned over the podium so that it acted as a makeshift low-lying desk. When they reached the stage, Miss Hafey said “Will you two please bend over and place your hands on the podium?”

 

Lena thought she would die of embarrassment. The way Miss Hafey was asking them to bend over would entail displaying their backsides to the entire student body. Jenny blushed when she realized that hers was still red from the brief, but powerful paddling she had received last night. The girls did as they were told and Miss Hafey picked up her paddle.

 

“This is what happens when you behave atrociously in a very public manner.” Miss Hafey warned the student body, insinuating that these girls’ fates were cautionary tales for the rest of them. She then lifted the girls’ skirts, pulled their panties down to just below their backsides, and turned to face Jenny and Lena.

 

“I want you to count these. I want you to refer to me as ma’am. I want you to stay still. I don’t care if you cry and I don’t care if you yell out, but you will not move.” she commanded.

 

“Yes, ma’am.” the young women responded in unison.

 

The first crack of the paddle hit Lena and she couldn’t control her urge to yell out.

 

“ONE MA’AM!” she cried. She had never been paddled like this by Miss Hafey. Her previous spankings in her office had been more gentle, very private, and typically followed by a hug. Jenny, on the other hand, had received a number of wicked paddlings—just none that were quite this public.

 

Jenny remained silent during her first swat, aside from her required response. As the number of swats rose, so did the volume of Jenny’s voice in response to the swats. Halfway through the spanking, she was kicking and pleading for Miss Hafey to have mercy.

 

“Please no more. I’m so sorry.” Jenny begged Miss Hafey, quietly, so that only the three women on the stage could hear.

 

Miss Hafey guided Jenny’s chin up so that their eyes met and responded “I know you’re sorry. You’re not sorry enough, though.”

 

Miss Hafey continued paddling the young ladies until she hit twenty swats and both Jenny and Lena were sobbing. The senior class watched—half horrified and half entranced. Miss Hafey told both girls to go wait for her in her office and informed them as well as the rest of the senior class that the young ladies would be participants in the last Saturday detention of the school year. On their way out of the auditorium, Lena shot Jenny an “I can’t believe you got me into this” look.

 

Saturday morning, Lena shot Jenny the same exact look as they filed into detention along with a handful of other wayward seniors. Miss Hafey announced she had brought both her hairbrush and paddle and would be using them without hesitation should anyone break the rules.

 

To be continued and what not.

 

The Very Bad Boy’s Very Bad Dog

 

 

Readers,

I had to share something hilarious with you – an email I received recently from our Very Bad Boy. The title of the email was something like “RIP our favorite spanking implement”, and inside was this photo, of their beloved antique store find brush:

photo

 

The VBB and his Wonderful Wife have kids, but none of them is teething – so I knew this had to be the work of one of the family pooches. By process of elimination, it’s obvious that their handsome boy Maxwell is responsible, since one of the other two is tiny and old, and the other is a trained service dog. 

This is Maxwell:

ph78oto

Maxwell is one of the handsomest boys you’ll see all week – but he’s also a service dog training flunkie. He loves his dad endlessly but couldn’t get the hang of the whole training thing, so now it’s his job to be Maxwell – the dog who eats spanking brushes.

He will be the new hero of spanking bottoms everywhere! Folks will want to borrow Maxwell, just so he can chew up their most-loved/hated paddles, brushes, canes, and straps. I think that this could be a great career for Maxwell, as I’m VERY certain that there are a few things My Bottom’s Bottom would love to have ‘disappear’.

Below, a photo re-enactment of the crime:

ph34oto

Way to go, Maxwell! Now your mom gets to buy MORE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

New Story Contest : Sin City Spanks

 

That’s right, folks! It’s a Sin City Spanking Story Contest Extravaganza!!

 

Dana Kane professional disciplinarian Las Vegas

 

This month’s story entries should be set in my new home city of Las Vegas and contain some element of the city’s so-called mystique: gambling, gangsters, nightlife, showgirls, celebrities, etc.   And spanking – don’t forget about the spanking..

 

Dana Kane Spanks Las Vegas

 

As always, the contest will run through the month, and I’ll announce the winner beginning of June. The winner will receive a spanking ‘prize’ from me, in any of the cities which I regularly visit, or here in Sin City.

 

dana kane professional disciplinarian las vegas

 

 

The Rules:

*Your story must be an original, unpublished story, written by YOU, specifically for this contest.

*Don’t write about characters (or situations containing characters) under the age of 18.

*Don’t write about sex. There are lots of places to write/read about sex…this isn’t one of them.

*Don’t be a jerk. Just in general.

*All entries must be received by May 31, 2014. By sharing your entry you agree to let me publish/share/excerpt it, here and elsewhere.

 

Email your original Sin City spanking story to me at : danakanespanks@gmail.com 

Assume the Position Studios, feat. Christy Cutie, now has a Member site.

 

Readers,

Just a quick note to let you know that Assume the Position Studios, formerly available only for individual scenes, now has it’s member’s site open. With around 200 scenes already available, as well as 100 photosets and LOTS more to come, ATP features most of the videos you’ll find featuring Christy Cutie, one of the more well-known and spankable female performers. Christy is joined by friends like Sarah Gregory, Casey Calvert, and more, so you’ll have the chance to see all the M/f AND F/f action you like.

I think you’re gonna like this one…

–  Dana

 

Click the banner below to redirect to ATP Studios:

Assume the Position Studios

Spanking PSA : Occupational Hazards

 

Readers, 

We talk a lot about all the ways in which a bottom may be hurt or harmed during spanking play, and we’re all very conscious of those things – rightfully so – but we rarely talk about all the nasty crap that can happen to the spankER during the very same scene. 

Let’s look at a few ways in which my playmates have endangered my life and limbs over the years, likely in retribution for many, many sit spot whacks. Please feel free to empathize with me and other tops, for all the pain and woe we slog through, just to spank your misbehaving behinds.

 

1.  Sticks and Stones, and Feet:  I have a particularly kick-y playmate who, while doing his very best impression of an alligator death roll off my lap, managed to twist himself into such a position – AS I WAS SWINGING – that my hairbrush landed squarely on…

wait for it…

my right thumb knuckle. Hard. Now hitting the backside, all squishy and full of fat and muscles and stuff, is one thing, but hitting a bony appendage is a Whole Other Thing Entirely. Agony and swelling were immediate, but, not to be outdone by short-term issues, the knuckle now sits entirely crooked, probably forever. 

*Feet also make great Face Connectors. Unless you’re on the shorter side, there’s a very high likelihood that, if you swing your feet up high enough, they’ll come into intimate contact with some part of my face. This is not a Good Thing for anyone, as I will seriously beat you to death if you kick me in the face.

Feet can be dangerous.

 

2.  Hippy-Hippy-Bruise:  Those of you who work hard to maintain a certain physique are, rightfully, proud of yourselves and the effort you’ve made toward general healthfulness. What you’re NOT aware of is this: Your hipbones are sharp, protruding, little cheeseburger-craving knives which stab into your spankers upper thigh in such a manner that one almost has to wonder whether you’re skinny on purpose, just so you can use those things as weapons. The most common injury that I sustain is a nasty purple bruise slashing across my left thigh, in the exact spot you’ve been torturing me with your fitness.

*Conversely, it’s always the not-so-skinny who are concerned about ‘hurting me’ when going OTK. Trust me when I tell you that you are NOT going to hurt me, regardless of the size of your underpants.

Behold the deadly Iliac crest.

 

3.  Back-i-otomy :  This is, I believe, the generally accepted medical term for the procedure to remove one’s back altogether – because it’s both painful and useless. From what I’ve read on the AMA website, professional spankers are the largest demographic of Back-i-otomy surgery, and the success rate is pretty high, as long as they avoid spanking altogether in the future. (Seriously, the crummy back’s not your fault – you just exacerbate it.)

*If you’ve opened another tab to search ‘back-i-otomy’, I cannot help you.

Dave Chapelle knows.

 

4.  Biting the Hand that Spanks You :  Okay, so you’re not the ones who actually do the biting; it’s the implements that bite. Hard. Leather belts, straps, tawses, and anything else long and slinky is, I PROMISE you, going to snap back and bite the living hell out of the back of the wielder’s hand at least once. You just looove the belt, huh? Well, us, not so much. There’s a reason for that, and it’s called It Hurts…of course, we do it anyway, because the trade off is that, hopefully, it hurts you more.

Ouch!

 

There’s more. So much more. But I don’t want to give you all the impression that I’d have it any other way.

Bring it on.

–  Dana

Video Q&A: Let’s give this a try

 

Readers,

I thought it might be fun to do a Q&A on the blog, giving readers the opportunity to ask questions, to which I’d then reply. Then I thought it may be interesting to video the thing instead. I’d read and reply to questions asked and post up the video here, maybe monthly or every couple months or whatever.

This will be an experimental Video Q&A. Anyone who wants can ask a PERTINENT question in the comments box below (please don’t email me questions…be nice and put ’em all in the same place, below) and I’ll answer as many as possible in a video. 

I’ll leave the questions open for a few weeks then post up the answer video.

 

Please keep in mind that this is not an AMA. You cannot ask me anything. Be polite, behave, and be on topic (spanking. duh).

Okay, get to the questions….or not. We’ll see what happens.

–  Dana

Give to your favorite charity every time you shop at Amazon Smile (Unrelated to Spanking. Duh.)

 

Admit it, you shop at Amazon.com. The sooner we get real with one another the better. Yes, we all do it – convenience shopping; they bring it right to the door, for goodnesssakes! 

Since you’re going to do it anyway, and since the experience is EXACTLY the same, try doing your Amazon shopping from the Amazon Smile landing page.  All you have to do is choose the charity that you’d like to receive a percentage of your purchase total and, every time you check out after that, Amazon will donate to your chosen charity. I’ve designated Community Cat Coalition of Clark County (C5-tnr.org), the local feral cat program.

There’s absolutely no reason to not do this, and you just have to remember to bookmark your Smile landing page, so that all your purchases are eligible.

 

Happy shopping (and giving),

–  Dana

Spanking Survivor Island

 

Okay, I have this great idea. It’s been bouncing around in my head for the last couple years, as ideas tend to do, and I’ve finally come to the decision-making process…and I need your opinions.

Take a look at this:

 

http://www.privateislandsofgeorgia.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/07/eagle_home.jpg

 

This is Eagle Island, off the coast of Georgia. It’s a beautiful, secluded, wooded island surrounded by water, with access to kayaks, a pontoon boat, and lots of outdoor activities – in addition to the lodge, which sleeps up to 14.

So here’s the deal : Spanking Survivor Island

A small, intimate F/M spanking party – Thursday through Sunday or something – consisting of three or four female tops and around eight to ten naughty boys. We’d have different ‘challenges’ over the course of the weekend, each boy accruing points (and whacks!) as well as demerits, to the eventual crowning of the first Spanko Island Survivor. Whaddaya think?

The boys would also have a strict set of rules for the weekend, including doing all the cooking and chores (for points!) for the ladies, as well as having the opportunity for one-on-one spanking time with one of the tops, also based on behavior.

Ladies will inhabit the bedrooms, while the boys will bunk dorm-style.

This several-acre island is large and secluded enough for outdoor spanking games, on-the-boat spankings, and….ah, the possibilities are endless!…even hide-and-go-spank!

We’d all pitch in on expenses to cover the cost of the island rental (only 2grand for three nights – for the whole damn island!), airport to island transport and back, food, etc. I’m not setting this up as a for-profit thing, so everyone’s out-of-pocket would be the same as mine…plus or minus airfare, of course.

I want to hear from you on this – sound like fun? I’m really thinking of giving this a go, and any ideas, input, or constructive criticism is welcome.

–  Dana

 

 

Gal Pals

 

I spank a lotta gals.

A lot, a lot.

I don’t know why this still surprises me, but it does. Why would I, of all people, have different expectations of female spankos than males? This just goes to show that the gender mores to which we’re accustomed are hard to shrug off, even when we’re vigilant. But I’m digressing already..

Most of the women with whom I play don’t even let men spank them; it’s a line drawn for them, that even the man in their romantic life not be given dominion over their bodies. It’s a you’re-not-the-boss-of-me thing..I get it. If they’re single, they’re just not willing to compromise that kind of intimacy with a man to whom they’re not emotionally attached. It’s easier for them to relate intimately (not sexually) with another woman…I get that, too.

Tough gals

There’s something intensely personal about a woman giving the gift of physical submission to another person that’s quite different than men – we’ve been known throughout history as ‘the weaker sex’, and it wasn’t a woman who coined that phrase, I guarantee. So for some gals, it’s just much simpler to get what they need in that respect from another female – someone who poses no threat of romantic or sexual energy. It’s one less thing to try and figure out, and Today’s Woman leads a pretty damned complicated life as it is.

93% of the time.

Many times, there’s a maternal quality to the interaction between  me and my female playmates. This has nothing to do with age, or ageplay necessarily, but everything to do with creating and experiencing a loving, nurturing, yet structured environment, where they can let down their guard, release anxiety and guilt, and get in touch with the parts of themselves that they shelter from most of the world – the soft parts. (Get your minds out of the gutter – I’m talking about emotional soft parts…sheesh.)

Hug it out.

The truth is, I deal much more gently in many ways with women than men, in respect to disciplinary authority. For all our toughness, we’re still built mostly of large parts of estrogen and ever-changing serotonin levels. We’re like emotional gremlins – benign until activated – and should be handled with care.

This
Not this

 

The point of it all? I used to be one of those ‘I don’t like other women’ women. That’s different now, and it’s because of all the real, genuine connections I’ve made amongst my spanko girlfriends.

I love you all, you buncha weirdos!

–  Dana

So Kate Upton spanked this guy too hard…

 

What?

Kate Upton?

Gave some guy a spanking? And left THIS on his backside?

That’s right, friends. Reportedly, Miss Upton got a bit ‘carried away’ while filming a scene for an upcoming movie – a scene in which she spanks her male counterpart. This guy (otherwise known as the Luckiest Boy in the Wide World):

He even says that, when he requested that she take it easy on him, the director laughed and encouraged her to continue..which she gleefully did. 

I knew I liked that girl…

–  Dana

The whole article is HERE.

When all else fails, do a question thingy. (Unrelated to Spanking)

 

Readers,

There are times when it’s just nearly impossible for a blogger to be original, funny, campy, and/or creative. For those times, the internet gods created these question thingys.

This is one of those times, and those of you who are old enough to remember Myspace may find yourselves waxing sentimental about the Old Days when all 6600 people in your friend list did the same damn thingy on the same damn day.

–  Dana

 

 

Question Thingy (massively edited down from 100 questions, most of them even more inane than the ones I’ve chosen to include below):

 

Do you sleep with your closet doors open or closed?
Closed. If they’re not closed, the cats will turn it into a party room.

Do you take the shampoos and conditioner bottles from hotel?
Yep. I put them in a box and when the box is full, I take them to the Las Vegas Rescue Mission.

Have you ever stolen a street sign before?
I hate that I have to answer ‘yes’ to such a random and bizarre question. Yes. Yes, I have.

What is your biggest pet peeve?
Just one? Jeez..umm..I guess it’d have to be emoticons/webspeak.

 

Do you ever count your steps when you walk?

Yep.
Do you still watch cartoons?
I still try to catch episodes of South Park now and then, but I’m less impressed with it than I was a decade ago

.
What do you drink with dinner?
I’m from the South. We’re supposed to drink sweet iced tea with everything; it’s in the Book of Redneck Etiquette.
What do you dip a chicken nugget in?

If you try to feed me any kind of nugget I will slap you hard.

What is your favorite food?
This one’s easy. My honey makes this stuff called Huli Huli Chicken, which is quite possibly the tastiest thing I’ve ever eaten, ever. This may have something to do with the fact that I don’t have to prepare it, but still. It rocks.

 

What movies could you watch over and over and still love?
The Birdcage. Hank Azaria’s character is one of the most hilarious performances ever.

50 First Dates. I love Adam Sandler and Drew Barrymore together; it’s impossible not to smile.

Chocolat. This may be the only movie in which I can honestly say that I understand the world’s women’s fascination with Johnny Depp (And Juliette Binoche? Ohmy.)

Can you change the oil on a car?
I could change the oil on my ’01 Saturn. There’s no WAY I could do it on my current car. I don’t even know where the battery is..someplace in the trunk, I think.
Are you lazy?
Who has time to be lazy?
When you were a kid, what did you dress up as for Halloween?
My grandmother said it was tacky to go door to door, begging for candy.
Which are better legos or lincoln logs?
I cannot tell you how much I love Lincoln Logs.
Afraid of heights?
Yep.

Sing in the car?
Loudly.

Ever used a gun?
Lots.

Do you believe in ghosts?
Nope.

First concert?
I went to a George Strait concert with a boy from my high school. His mom dropped us off. It was the first time I was allowed to go to a Whole Other City without a legal guardian, I think.
Wal-Mart, Target or Kmart?
No, no, and no.
Who would you like to see in concert?
I am fascinated by Journey’s current lead singer, Arnel Pineda.

Can you knit or crochet?
I can crochet like a skein-wielding demon.

 

Cheekie Pays Her Dues (REAL punishment for a REAL offense) – Free Video

 

Readers,

I want to give you a short background on this video:

It’s real. Cheekie is real. The story we tell is real, and so is the trouble she could be in right now, had I not given her the opportunity to redeem herself and she not taken it.

CheekiePaysHerDues-001

Cheekie agreed to receive her punishment on video, and to admit to her wrongdoing. Not everyone would be as brave (or silly?), but I’m giving her credit for taking responsibility..and a very hard spanking.

CheekiePaysHerDues

The two of us had a VERY long talk, and I’ve edited it down to what I hope is a manageable size without taking out any of the spanking or pertinent details (it’s still long, at nearly 18minutes). She had some very misinformed ideas about the spanking video business – and about the business of content sharing, and thoughtlessly went about her illegal activities for quite some time before I caught her in the act. 

CheekiePaysHerDues-002

I gave Cheekie no other option to deal with this situation – I told her that the ONLY way to redeem herself with me was to put her butt on a plane to Las Vegas and accept whatever I had to offer. I didn’t threaten her with legal action or ‘outing’, as she’d by then figured out for herself how easily she could’ve ended up in a much worse situation. She immediately agreed (somewhat to my surprise, until I realized that this sweet girl is still too young and inexperienced to realize exactly the gravity of the situation), and by the time we met, we’d agreed that if she was willing to accept the punishment (and lots and lots of verbal shaming from me, of course), that I’d be willing to forgive her past actions. 

I’m still not certain whether Cheekie has learned the FULL lesson here, which is – essentially – that rote ‘do unto others’ thing that we’ve always known to be the best policy. What I am absolutely certain of is that she will think long and hard before illegally sharing content again. Or she’ll get better at hiding it when she does. The odds are slightly in her favor, and let’s hope that she makes the right choice.

CheekiePaysHerDues-003

I guess the point of all this is to remind myself that not everyone who appears to be a ‘bad person’ really is, and that, if given the opportunity, most folks will choose to Play Nice. I’m happy that Cheekie did, and that I did, too. Sort of.

I’m also hopeful that others who take part in illegal file sharing will put aside the thrill, the ego, and the feeling of invincibility afforded them by their VPNs and onions to think just a bit about the fact that those of us who produce spanking videos do so because we LOVE spanking, not because we’re getting filthy rich in the process. And please be considerate of the literal blood, sweat, and tears which the spankees endure every time, for your enjoyment. I don’t wish bad things on you, but I do hope for your consideration.

– Dana

Oh – I should also mention that miss Cheekie and I are now going to be friends – she’s going to be a Good Girl from here on out, and I’m going to help her start a blogsite where she can share her love of all things spanking without getting herself into more trouble.

 

Here’s ‘Cheekie Pays Her Dues’ :



free spanking video

Who Spanks?

Readers,

One thing I hear repeatedly goes something like this, “I wish that there was someone local…”.

In a continuing effort to help spankos in all areas find someone compatible with whom to play, I’m again requesting that my readers, friends, and playmates leave recommendations for other disciplinarians.

There’s a list near the bottom of the right-hand sidebar here, which lists several ladies offering disciplinary sessions in and around the U.S., but there is always room for more. Please take a look at the current listings and, if you’re aware of someone I’ve missed, please leave the name and link to a website in the comments area below. I’ll add anyone verifiable, with the disclaimer that I’m not necessarily associated with or promoting anyone in particular, simply trying to help making connections easier. Also, if you’re aware of any dead links or inactive ladies on the list, please do let me know and I’ll update with current information.

Thanks for all your input here, as always,

– Dana

Give til it Hurts Raffle #2 : DanaKaneSpanks.com 1 Year Membership WINNER!

 

Everyone,

We’ve had another wildly successful fundraising event in the Give Til it Hurts Raffle #2, raising $845 for animal charities!

And since it’s so much fun to give things away (as our generous donors have again proven), here’s the video showing who’s won the 1 year membership to DanaKaneSpanks.com, and the runner up winner of a 30 day membership:

 

 

Congratulations to the winners, and thanks to everyone who participated. Below, all donor pseudonyms and their contributions:

 

Dana’s World Record Holder  –  $50

Lab Saver  –  $25

Naughty Tom  –  $25

Arapahoe  –  $25

GreenEyes  –  $300

Rigel  –  $25

Kalman  –  $100

Arrogant Brat  –  $50

NJSpank  –  $150

Oldog  –  $25

Randy Lee  –  $20

Danielle  –  $50

 

And here’s the payoff – all the wonderful animal heroes you’ve helped by participating, and, most importantly, the sweet little animals who’ve benefitted so much from your generosity:

 

City Critters  –  $100

City Critters rescues, rehabilitates, and re-homes cats and dogs in and around New York City. The city’s animal control, collectively called NYC ACC, is one of the country’s most notorious kill-mills, especially cats and pit bull breed dogs. City Critters saved the lives of over 200 cats (and a number of dogs) in 2013, providing everything from medical care, transportation, and shelter rescue, to TNR funding for local groups. Good people working hard in the most populace place in the country.

 

Becky’s Hope  –  $50

We’re revisiting Becky’s Hope, a Texas-based rescue for abused and neglected horses. Becky’s Hope is a small, self-funded horse sanctuary that takes on animals who, without them, wouldn’t have much hope at all. They’re always in need of hay for these big sweeties, so we’ll likely make sure that a little goes to them every time we fundraise.

 

Noah’s Ark Rescue  –  $200

afd8bad28472ef00a8a4314e1ca5941395760674

Dogs who are sick, injured, and abused rarely stand a chance for the expensive medical care they require. And then there’s Noah’s Ark…These folks work tirelessly to provide life-saving medical care to dogs who’d otherwise have no chance at life. Not only does Noah’s Ark provide the funds, but they ferry the dogs to and from multi-state specialists, network to rehome them, and need donations to continue this work more than you can imagine. There isn’t a better definition of selfless than what these folks are doing, every day.

 

C5 (Community Cat Coalition of Clark County) –  $100

The C5 kitty cam – one feral colony’s minder has set up a 24/7 stream of her wards.

C5 is an all-volunteer group in Clark County, Nevada, working to save, spay, and care for the more than 200thousand feral cats in and around Las Vegas. They’re one of my chosen local charities and doing great and important work for the kitties here.

 

Angel City Pit Bulls  –  $145

Almost all cities are pitbull-unfriendly nowadays, although for decades they were considered one of the best, smartest, and most gentle breeds for children (do your homework). Los Angeles is an especially tough place to be a pitbull – or any dog even remotely resembling one – and Angel City does their damndest to save them. Pulling ‘bully’ breeds directly from local L.A. shelters, fostering and rehoming them, and advocating for the breed and public common sense when it comes to these misunderstood and maligned sweeties. I LOVE bullys, and have owned three…every single one of them sweeter and more cuddly than the next.

 

Crash’s Landing  –  $250

260 cats. Crash’s Landing is a nokill cat rescue in Grand Rapids, Michigan, focused specifically on saving, rehabilitating, and giving homes to at-risk stray cats – and they home 260 of the little furballs. With a monthly cost of nearly 15thousand dollars, caring for sick, injured, and terminally ill cats is an expensive but oh-so-terribly loving endeavor. The people who staff and fund places like Crash’s Landing deserve all the help we can give them.

 Please take a few minutes to take a look at all these great groups yourself, and maybe even click on that ‘Donate’ button.

 

**Disclaimer: By sharing names of organizations in receipt of funds donated, neither I nor Dana Kane Films assumes or implies association with any of the above named groups. (This simply because not everyone wants to be publicly associated with someone who does naughty things during daylight hours, and we understand that completely.)

**In the name of clarity, documentation of all monies distributed is available upon request.

**As payment processors charge a hefty percentage of every transaction (yes, ridiculously, even for charitable donations), I’ve decided to start mailing in donations by check rather than allowing Paypal to hedge our hard-earned five percent. Take THAT.

 

 It’s impossible to say often enough how grateful I am for our donor’s participation in the Give Til it Hurts fundraisers – it’s endlessly heartwarming and reassuring to be reminded of all the Really Wonderful People with whom I share this planet. You’re all, quite pointedly, freakin’ awesome.

I’ll be back in summer with another fun and decidedly spanko way to help the critters while participating in something that may net you something relatively exclusive..

–  Dana

I’m a Booster (Totally Unrelated to Spanking)

 

I think Las Vegas is pretty nifty – especially if you’re a visitor here. (Being a resident rocks because we have NO reason whatsoever to go anywhere near the strip, so our lives are just as normal as yours most days of the year.)

I do not, however, really know much about the city. Case in point: I recently put up a post titled “Oh.my.god.video”, about a place called Heart Attack Grill, and asked readers to tell me something about the place.

Ahem..it’s in Las Vegas. Who knew? Apparently everyone but me. (Also, to each his or her own, but this looks absolutely disgusting. In so many ways.)

Just about anyone who visits my fair chosen-home city will know more about it than I do, by the time their friends bail them out of the county jail. However, most visitors also rarely wander far from the strip; you guys and gals see the fountains at the Bellagio, lots of burlesque shows, and some of the world’s largest all-you-can-eat buffets. You get to gaze lovingly at the hundreds of boutique shops, $500 and up haircut joints, and more gambling machines than non-visitors could ever possibly imagine; adventurous souls (who don’t feel as though they’ve risked life and limb enough already by just being in Las Vegas – or possibly by eating at the Heart Attack Grill) can even make a controlled free fall from the top of the Stratosphere tower.

But there’s a whole bunch of really cool, interesting, and, most importantly, non-gambling-related things to do here, too…you just gotta get your ass off the Strip. In an effort to bring attention to a few of the hidden gems you’ve probably missed in your visits here, I’m giving you my short list of favorite places in Las Vegas:

 

The Pinball Hall of Fame

What’s not to love about a huge building full of hundreds of pinball machines, all working, and all ready to play for 25cents? These guys are truly passionate about restoring and maintaining these classic games – the oldest pinball games in the building date back to the 1940’s! My personal favorite: the Kiss pinball machine, which plays awful, out of tune midi files of Detroit Rock City and other hits. This will be the most fun you have in Vegas for less than 20bucks. (Tropicana Blvd. east)

 

Taco y Taco

Go ahead and eat at the fancy restaurants up and down the hotel zone – they’re really fantastic, and will only cost you an arm and possibly your dinner companions leg. They’ll also let you get rascally drunk and behave inappropriately at the dinner table – this is, after all, Sin City. My vote’s going to something cheaper, more peaceful, and much, much, MUCH more tantalizing.

Tacos.

The kind of tacos that I used to get from street vendors in East Los Angeles; the kind of tacos they’ll serve you in Tijuana; the kind of tacos where you say, “I’m really not all that hungry… I’ll take six.” Taco y Taco is a little place in an unassuming shopping complex. There’s no fancy sign and no fancy decor. Your tacos (or burritos, or nachos – the menu’s very small) will be served on thin paper plates. There ARE tons of friendly cooks, employees, and managers – all of whom are proud to tell you about their history, recipes, and the fact that they’ve already been voted best tacos in the city, even though they’ve been open just over a year. Go there. Get in a taxi if you have to, just go there. (Tropicana east)

 

Springs Preserve

180 acres of Las Vegas valley real estate, flora, fauna, geology, and QUIET. Springs Preserve walking trails showcase the area’s natural history with flower gardens, interactive exhibits, and knowledgeable guides throughout the preserve. It’s a nice respite from the sound of slot machines and all that sequins.

 

The High Roller

The High Roller

Okay, this one’s definitely not off the beaten path, and probably not cheap, either. But it’s so very cool that I had to mention it, anyway. The High Roller is a brand new, ginormous (the world’s largest, I think) ferris wheel/observation thingy just built in The Linq. Although I’m not a fan of heights, this looks like something I may be willing to do, maybe, just for what have to be absolutely breathtaking views of the valley and surrounding mountains. (Also, I find the idea of getting getting a pod to oneself and giving a spanking while overlooking the entire Las Vegas valley wildly amusing. Remember, you read the idea here first, as someone will certainly eventually pull this stunt off, and hopefully there’ll be substantiating video.)

 

Tonight I found a great way for me (and you, too) to see what’s going on in the city – not just who’s playing at Ceasar’s and what Britney’s wearing, but lots of other cool information on Las Vegas, the ‘culture’ of the city, and it’s denizens. Vegas Chatter calls themselves ‘a daily users guide to the ins and outs of the potlatch and pomp that is Sin City.’

That appears to be pretty accurate.

So if you’re thinking of visiting our fair(ly sandy) city, and if you have a little free time between spankings (don’t act like you’re going to come all the way here and not get a spanking. You’d have to be crazy.) to fill with educated wandering around, peruse VegasChatter.com.

 

–  Dana

Re-visiting Big Bang Theory

 

Lots of us have seen the Sheldon spanks Amy scene on Big Bang Theory. I’ve shared it here, because I love the whole ‘real’ discipline/granny gown/longing-type thing they do. This scene caused quite an uproar, even outside the spanking community, and got a lot of press in the process. I’ve re-added the original scene, then the blooper reel (which is really hilarious) from the spanking scene, followed by Jim Parsons talking about – and demonstrating – the spanking with Conan O’Brien and Andy Richter. Even if you don’t watch the show, it’s great stuff. 

Enjoy!

 

The actual scene:

 

 

Here’s the blooper reel:

Spanking bloopers start at 1:50..

 

 

And HERE is the ‘re-enactment’ from Conan O’Brien’s show:

Future Spank story entry – out of this world~

Readers,
Enjoy this fun entry to the Future Spank contest – I did!
–  Dana
By 2,500 A.D. men had turned our planet into a state of constant warfare.  Young men were taken from their families at the age of 6 and raised by the state where they were taught sports and activities designed to enhance military skills.  By the time they were 16 they were conscripted into the military where they lived in barracks and remained soldiers until they were 62.  Fossil fuels were being rationed and renewable energy proved to be a boondoggle and couldn’t be sustained without government subsidies.  Our planet had entered another mini ice age similar to the period when General Washington wintered over at Valley Forge during the American Revolution.  Because of the colder climate we weren’t able to grow as much food and the world population decreased.  Just the opposite of what happened during the medieval period of global warming when Greenland was green and the warm climate allowed a surplus of food to be produced and the world’s population increased.

My name is Boudice and I was able to unite the women of our area with a vision of a better future.  Our borders were secure and there was no need to expand.  My plan was to submit the men to my vision of peace.  I organized the women to withhold sex with their mates until they submitted to our two demands; the end of warfare and election of women to political power.  Over the next years voters realized that women made the best political leaders and we were in total charge of our government.  Men became submissive to women and wars stopped.

That is about the time I discovered an old manuscript from the early 1900’s written by Dorothy Spencer.  She was a leading authority on marital harmony and the lost art of spanking.  She advocated that couples agree to spankings to clear the air.  The spanking would sincerely benefit the party at fault and not lead to dangerous quarrels- when the spanking is over the situation is resolved.  According to her plan revenge, oppression, force, and violence are omitted.  The idea is to administer punishment and avoid arguments that can lead to divorce court.  The plan calls for willful submission to a cooperative system of beneficial discipline.  Spankings should never be administered in anger and men are to be spanked with wooden paddles.  Punishments were to be painful so that the man being spanked would not want to repeat the experience.

The Spencer spanking plan was written into our law codes.  Every willing woman was issued a Spencer style spanking paddle with the authority to apply it to any adult male exhibiting aggressive behavior.  Tracking devices were inserted in the forearms of all males when they reached their 18th birthday.  Any man committing even minor acts of aggression if confronted by a paddle carrying disciplinarian was immediately identified by his tracking device and could choose either jail time or an immediate pants down paddling.  Most men avoided these public paddlings; but, a few seemed to have a strange need for an occasional spanking. They didn’t seem to enjoy the actual spanking but always returned for more  You could tell from their expressions that the spankings were painful but they apparently received some release from the pressures of the day after they were allowed to pull up their pants and continue on their way.

Today on my way home from the government health club I stopped by a food outlet and the young man in front of me argued about his ration card with the government service agent.  I grabbed him by his ear, lowered his pants and briefs to around his knees, bent him over the counter, announced that he would receive 10 spanks for his rude aggressive behavior, and told him that if he didn’t stay in position I would start my count again.  When I finished this 20 year old man was crying uncontrollably and his entire bottom was one bright red welt.  You could make out the imprint of the holes from my paddle!  I don’t think he was one of the men who has a strange need for an occasional paddling.

Now a little more about me.  I am a 35 years old 5′ 11″ tall and an avid body builder.  I have very little body fat due to daily workouts and diet.  These attributes aided me with my leadership during the revolutionary changes in our society.  As one of five Directors and a member of the Senate I wield much political power.  I have a civil union agreement with my mate Eric.  He is very fit like me and a type A male.  Because of this he feels the sting of my paddle about three times a month.  He hates these paddlings as much as I enjoy giving them.

It was brought to my attention that he was involved in an altercation over sharing Nautilus equipment at our government run health center.  When I returned to our housing pod without changing out of my skin tight yoga pants I put a straight backed chair in the middle of our bedroom and laid my Spencer paddle on the chair.  When Eric arrived home I greeted him with a passionate kiss on his mouth and told him to meet me in our bedroom.  When he came into the bedroom I slapped his face, sit in the chair with the paddle on my lap, and ordered him to strip and get over my knee.  I raised the paddle high in the air above my head and brought it down across the middle of his bottom with a snap of my wrist leaving a perfect imprint of my paddle across his bottom as he left out a gasp.  The second spank was just below the first and just as hard leaving another perfect imprint.  Next I started alternating from cheek to cheek as he cried, begged, kicked, squirmed, and danced over my lap.  He likes no part of being draped over my lovely lap.  Twenty-five spanks later his bottom was bright red, his eyes were blood shot and puffy, and tears were running down his face.  When I allowed him off of my lap to do his spanking dance around our room I smiled and felt a feeling of power.  When he finally calmed down I gave him another passionate kiss on his mouth.

Men have learned not to be submissive and not aggressive and warfare is a thing of the past under our new regime.

Oh.my.god.video

 

Readers,

I’ve heard all about the Hofbrauhaus here in Las Vegas, and I know that they whack you with a paddle if/when you take some shot of liquor…and I’ve always maintained that it sounds Super Dangerous to allow your waitress to whack you with a thick wooden board when you’ve been drinking.

I still maintain that, and would also like to add this:

WHAT THE HELL??!!

 

Heart Attack Grill? Has anyone heard of/been to this place? And why in the name of everything good and edible is that lady allowed to hit people like that? Wow. I’m sure that she’s a lovely person, but every time I see her lift that paddle I am genuinely afraid for every person in the room.

Is the food really great? Is it worth the risk of losing all feeling from the waist down? Or am I being overly sensitive/judgmental about what I think looks like a paddle that could land Just About Anywhere every time it’s swung (this includes the front porch)? Scary spanking video.

Oh, Canada!

 

Have you seen this?

 

Pro-Domme Carlie Ritch (“Mizz Barbie Bitch”) has announced that she will run for mayor of Toronto. 

HERE is the link to the article.

My favorite quote from the interview: “I don’t have any skeletons in my closet.” said Ritch, “I AM the skeleton.”

 

 

‘You look SO evil…’

 

Okay, let’s not pretend that I haven’t heard that before –

but I like to think that it’s complimentary..

..is that possible?

Yeah, totally.

 

So our friends at Cane-iac.com have been playing around with GIFs and our stock of dozens of Product Testing and Tips 4 Tops videos, and they’ve come up with some pretty cool free spanking videos stuff.

This one, in particular, I received attached to an email titled, “You look SO evil in this one!”. And ya know what? They’re right! On the spot, totally, right.

See for yourself:

DelrinRugBeater

 

So there it is…evil. But in a good way. (Also, I think that I would look much less daunting in this GIF if my Bottom’s Bottom hadn’t been acting particularly theatrical that day. He’s such a weenie sometimes.)

–  Dana

Spanking PSA : Why spanking is ‘therapy’…and why I’m pissed that I have to use quotes there.

 

Once, when I still had social networking accounts, I tweeted something about ‘spanking therapy’ to one of my friends. I don’t know why or how, but someone I’d never met nor heard of, who was some sort of anti-new-age-medicine personality, made a super snarky and dismissive comment and re-shared my original tweet to his followers. Sort of a ‘look, another loony’ kind of thing. I was highly insulted. First of all, who the hell are you? and secondly, what business is it of yours? and third, oh…I could go on and on about the social miscalculations this person made that day. But that’s not the point, so let’s get past my indignation at the snark and look at the underlying smarminess.

People think that sex is dirty. People also think that anything which smacks of fetish must be perverse, discordant, and totally without actual value. In other words, some folks think that what we do is weird and we’re dumb. (And where the ‘what we do’ is, you could put any counter- or alt-norm culture or movement and get the same results.) Many of those people are just under- or ill-informed (ignorant) and the rest are simply closed to the idea of anything outside their comfortable social mores (stupid). Probably more than a few talk the clean talk, but walk the dirty walk, distancing themselves from other perverts by way of magical thinking.

People who think that this is all a bunch of crap (I’ll call them The Dummies from here on out, so nobody gets confused) are, simply, small-minded. I’m not a person of unshakeable faith in many things, but I have the ultimate faith in a person’s ability to accept. When that faith is shaken by Dummies, I remind myself that it’s not anyone else’s life I’m living, nor is anyone helping me live this one…I’m answerable only to myself. My beliefs don’t have to jibe with anyone else’s, and it’s cool for others to disagree…as long as they’ve educated themselves on the subject. Dummies are the folks who would take a subject like spanking, look at it for half a second, then determine it to be valueless.

Most people reading this post will likely be pro-spanking, pro-kink, or, at the very least, pro-openmindedness (or you wouldn’t still be reading), so it’s not likely that I’ll meet a lot of dissenters here, and that’s fine too. It still has to be said.

Spanking is therapeutic.

It’s not just a get-off tool; it’s certainly not just deviance; it’s most definitely proven (by those who are willing to talk openly) to have positive and long-lasting effects on one’s mental state. Granted, one must be open to the idea, and possibly an actual spanko, to derive benefit from this belief, but doesn’t that make it just like every other belief? Don’t we all have to suspend disbelief in one or more areas of our lives, in order for things like belief to work in the first place?

And does it really matter whether we believe in it because it works, or whether it works because we believe it will? I don’t think so. (I’m getting a strong sense of deja vu here..like I’ve complained about this very thing before. Ah well,)

Dummies would say that we’re all hung up on some childhood trauma, or that we’re sadistic sociopaths and masochistic psychos. Personally, I think we’re a lot simpler than all that. We crave something which we cannot necessarily explain but which harms none, and we seek it out. We do not impose our wills or ideas on others, unlike the Dummies.

See, they think it’s all about the hitting. That’s why they’re dumb.

We know better…

It’s less about the spanking and much, much, much more about the relationships we foster – we can’t help fostering – when we’re so close together for so long.

It’s about empathy, too, isn’t it? The whole thing about actually listening rather than just waiting for one’s turn to speak.

And trust, which we give physically so very easily but withhold emotionally for so very long.

But I don’t have to explain it to you, do I? And The Dummies would never listen.

Preaching to the choir,

– Dana

Give Til it Hurts Raffle #2 Update – Final Week to enter for a 1 year DanaKaneSpanks.com membership!

 

We’re down to the final week of the Give Til it Hurts Raffle #2, for a 1 YEAR membership to DanaKaneSpanks.com (and a runner-up 30 day membership) –

and we’ve already raised $600  for animals in need!

Every time we play the Give Til it Hurts game, every single cent donated will be given to animals in need – last time we raised and donated one thousand dollars to many great causes, and I’m looking forward to seeing just how much more we can accomplish, together, this time. 

If you want to participate, simply email me at danakanespanks@gmail.com and let me know how many raffle tickets you’d like to purchase – they’re five dollars apiece and each one buys you another chance to win one of the two prizes.

The contest ends March 31, and I’ll post up all the contributors (pseudonyms) as well as the raffle drawing video, within a few days. I’ll also list all recipients of donated funds, so you’ll know exactly where your donation is doing great things and see the cute little furry faces that would thank you if they could.  

 

 –  Dana

 

 

Below, a fun plea from one of our participants in the first Raffle, ‘Angel’s Guardian Angel’ : 

 

“We have all watched PBS at some point in our lives, and I don’t mean Sesame Street. An adult program that you would want to record for your video library, added to “burned” DVDs with the FBI warnings. These PBS programs are so exemplary that they have commercial breaks (which require a computer program with editing capabilities) on a network that advertises it is commercial-free. The best of PBS occurs during “pledge week” … which is a few weeks every year.

“Ms. Kane has something similar. She, however, does not guilt-trip you. But I will. I am AGA, the one who ironically added to Angel’s sentence with 360 more strokes. You know, Angel with the deer-in-the headlights expression. Angel should wear a T-shirt emblazoned with the word “scapegoat”. Poor thing. I could accuse anyone who contributed to Ms. Kane’s cause of animal rights as an accessory to a crime, but, hell, I want that video too. Probably the reason why I suggested a $1000 cap so I now have a 1-3 chance of winning it.

“Not that I want to see Angel in pain. I guiltily watch Ms. Kane videos on her website to study Ms. Kane. The consummate female sadist. Every male fantasy. Like the regal Evil Queen in Disney’s Snow White. Love her! … Ms. Kane, that is!

“But I digress. My plea to you to contribute to Ms. Kane’s fundraisers in the future. Even though it seems hypocritical that Ms. Kane supports animal rights while she mercilessly beats alleged transgressors, we all enjoy taking “pleasure” in watching her … doing it, of course. But really, viewers, you can’t expect to appreciate Ms. Kane’s body … of work, that is … without contributing to the valuable cause which she is advocating. Let’s have these “critters” given the treatment they deserve because they elicit joy whenever we connect with them … as long as the leash to what they are attached is in other’s hand or as long as litter boxes their are cleaned by their owners. Personally, I wiggle and smile when a strange dog tries to kiss me. I’m not sure if Rover really likes me or is in the tongue-cleaning process.

“In short, I stand behind Ms. Kane … probably trying to real the label from her designer jeans … and any cause that she supports.”

 

Angel’s Guardian Angel

You Have No Idea Where That’s Been (Totally Unrelated to Spanking.)

Readers,

Maybe it’s that I’m at an age now where, had I had children of my own, I’d be trying to lay in some seriously long-lasting and meaningful life lessons; maybe it’s just because I’m smarter now than I was in my twenties. I certainly care more about other people, the world around me, and how I impact it all, than I did twenty years ago.
There’s also a really good chance that I know I have a somewhat ‘captive’ audience, as lots of folks come here to read about spanking, to which I may preach. Forgive me.

(zero segue)

So, what did you have for breakfast this morning? How about dinner last night?
Did it come out of a box or bag? Do you know what was in it? Do you know where it came from?

Are you sure?

Yeah, you have no idea. And neither do I. And that’s a Big Problem.

*Fair warning : As anyone who’s spent any amount of time whatsoever around me in recent years can attest, I can go off about this subject. Warm your coffee, get comfortable, and consider turning back now unless you really care what I think about things which have absolutely nothing to do with spanking.

Let’s start with a little information that’ll put us on more equal ground: Google “CAFO”. Read any of the first hundred articles which come up – or even better, just click the ‘image’ part of the search.

Now let that sit with you for a while.

That’s your food.

That’s what you had for breakfast this morning, and likely for dinner last night. It doesn’t matter whether you drove through the local fast food joint, ate at a high-end restaurant, or shopped in your local supermarket for food you prepared at home – it’s almost guaranteed that your meat products came from a CAFO. 

Now let’s take one more foray into Google’s vast wealth of knowledge – search “GMO”.  Same deal; same schtick. This is what you’re eating. The crap that they’re calling food. 

Chemical company Monsanto owns the PATENT on most of the grain foods you eat now, and lots of the vegetables, and all of the stuff they feed CAFO animals. In other words, Monsanto is your supermarket. They’ve engineered foods to be able to live through repeated sprayings of RoundUp (that weed killer you buy at Walmart) – that’s right, folks, weed killer. Poison. The stuff that will kill you, kill your pets, and kill full grown trees….those people sell the seeds that grow the corn, wheat, and other ‘healthy’ stuff you buy.

And those CAFO animals? They’re pumped full of antibiotics to keep their feet rotting off while grown exponentially on feedlots – and they’re fed things that they’d NEVER eat in a million years given the choice. The antibiotics must be SO strong to keep down disease that they have to wash the processed meat in…ready for this?….ammonia – AMMONIA, to kill off the antibiotic properties before they’re passed on to us. But fear not! – we get the antibiotics anyway in the shit/sludge/runoff from these CAFO’s that goes directly into our lakes, rivers, and, eventually, drinking water. 

Yummy.

If this little bit of information hasn’t changed the way you look at the things you put in your body, your kids and grandkids’ bodies, and your pets’ bodies, then hopefully it’s given you pause to think about the ‘lives’ lived by the animals we’re going to consume.

Educate yourself. Please.

Start with watching the documentary ‘Food, Inc.’. What? You don’t have 90 minutes to devote to living a healthier, more conscious life?

That’s what I thought.

**Look, I’m not soap-boxing here, and am not judging. I eat meat pretty regularly – but now I (granted, much more expensively) only buy grass fed beef, free range chicken, and Organic Everything as often as possible. There’s no more fast food, and few restaurant trips….but I’ll tell you something : I feel better.

And I want you to feel better, too.

 

Think about it…

–  Dana

Who doesn’t love Betty Blaze?

 

I’ve never met Betty Blaze, but I’ve seen a LOT of her films. She has the quintessential  spanker top look and demeanor, and obviously knows how to give a real, hard spanking. Betty appears to work mainly with Real Spankings site Women Spanking Men, and I’ve not seen a scene where her bottom gets off lightly.

There’s even a place on the Women Spanking Men website where male bottoms may apply to work with Betty and the other tops in paid spanking video shoots – cool!

 

Lila Punishes Her Assistant

 

 

Tanner’s Bad Day

 

 

Punished in the Woodshed

 

 

Skylar Interviewed and Spanked

 

 

Is there such a thing as Too Big?

 

Ahem.

I mean butts, folks, calm yourselves.

Particularly, female butts.

I consider myself a longtime fan of, depending on your vernacular, the part of the female anatomy lovingly called : The Juicy Booty, A Large Backyard, Extra Junk in the Trunk, Fries with That Shake, Bubble Butt, and the universally known “Damn, look at the size of that ass!” (Yes, I know that most of those terms could be considered derogatory if a person were looking for something about which to become righteously indignant, but I stand by my assertion that all of the above are LOVINGLY listed. I should also point out that I use these same terms when referring to a gentleman’s equally-proportioned assets.)

It’s probably unlikely that there are many people on the planet who do not appreciate a well-shaped backside, whether they’re inclined to slap said backside repeatedly or not. I’m sure that there are also a zillion different personal definitions of ‘well-shaped’, as we are all different in our tastes.

And while I certainly appreciate a small, fit, toned, muscular, or petite female backside, there’s something gloriously and spectacularly visually overwhelming about the big, really big, ones.

Problem is, in this age of fix-everything-cosmetic-procedures, ‘real’ butts are nearly as hard to identify as non-Viagra-fueled erections – sometimes you just can’t tell from looking. Gals get fat from one part of their body injected into their bums; there’s all kinds of crazy fillers now, including collagen, and even (silicone!) butt cheek implants. I’ve even heard horrible stories of black market procedures where women’s butts are injected with fix-a-flat…this is not a joke.

The obsession with big butts obviously isn’t just mine, but the idea that women would go to such lengths to achieve a larger-than-life posterior perplexes me. Not because I’m averse to cosmetic tweaking, but because the results so rarely look natural.

A few examples, good and possibly otherwise:  (*Note: I cannot say for sure whether any of the below have or have not altered their backsides with something other than diet and exercise; I can only offer my opinions. I could be absolutely and heinously wrong in each and every case.)

 

Coco Austin (personal favorite Large Backyard)

Coco has one of the most famous posteriors in modern celebrity culture. She’s the wife of Ice T and has at least partially built her fame on those gigantic assets you see in the photo on the right. I’ve always been a fan of watching Coco walk back and forth, bend over, and partake in any other movement which allowed me view of her backside. The photo on the left was taken at the beginning of her modeling career and shows a much much smaller rear-end. It seems like Coco’s done a bit more than just squat thrusts to achieve that gravity-defying, wrap-around booty, but I, for one, am not mad at her. (Is it just right, or too big? Does it matter if she’s had some help in that ‘department’?)

Kim Kardashian

Scandal-worthy behavior aside, Kim Kardashian has one of the most photographed bodies in current celebrity. She’s been scrutinized by nearly every person in the country for her weight fluctuations but one thing’s always been the same – her big ‘ol booty. Or has it? In the photo sequence above you’ll notice that Kim’s backside used to be what one would call relatively normal-sized, but in recent years has morphed into something resembling a satellite orbiting the back of her body. (Is this the payoff of hours and hours at the gym, or hours and hours at the doctor’s office? And, does it matter? Would you spank that?)

Blac Chyna

With all respect for personal choices, I hope rapper and video girl Blac Chyna isn’t into spanking, because I’m pretty sure that those implants would explode on impact.

Jennifer Lopez

Before anyone had ever heard of KK, Jennifer Lopez was the reigning queen of notable backsides. It’s easy to tell from her physique that this woman is in tip-top shape, and the lower back slope and narrower hips suggest, to me at least, that this is an All Natural Ass. (She’s admitted to Spanx, as have most women who can affort the spandex miracle. Is this simply nature at it’s best?)

Serena Williams

Go ahead, accuse repeated champion tennis player Serena Williams of having anything but a One Hundred Percent Natural Bottom…I dare you.

Beyoncé

Another fantasticall fit celeb, Beyoncé looks all natural – and if she’s not, who cares, ’cause whoo!

Nicki Minaj

If these before and after photos are to be believed, Nicki Minaj once had not just a less-than-large behind, but nearly none at all. Now, she’s famous for more than her singing and outlandish fashion – she’s become very well-known for that magically-appearing butt. (Last-minute genetic mutation? Overzealous cosmetic enhancement? Do we care?)

Jessica Biel

Jessica’s another star known for her fit lifestyle. Considering that, while she’s packing quite a lot of punch back there, it doesn’t look particularly out-of-proportion to the rest of her body or oddly high…looks like the Real Thing. (Spankable?)

Okay, okay, I could and would go on like this for quite some time, but you’ve probably experienced enough mindless butt-worship for one day.

Back to your regularly scheduled programming…

–  Dana

She Will, She Will, Spank You

 

Yes, Miss Katarina…

You’ll all likely recognize my gorgeous friend Katarina from her years of spanking performing on both sides of the paddle – most recently, she helped me teach my guy a lesson in our video “You Asked for It”.

YouAskedForItFULL-004

I’m very tickled to announce that Katarina’s finally begun offering private spanking sessions, something she’s very good at and has been talking about for quite some time. She’s located in the Tahoe/Reno area, and will also be accepting limited travel appointments in select international metro areas.

Her new site, which is still in the process of being populated but already contains the info you need to schedule your very own Katarina discipline time, is:

http://www.disciplinebykatarina.blogspot.com/

For my current friends and playmates, please feel free to include me as a reference when contacting Katarina – I’ll be sure to tell her all the naughty things you deserved being spanked for!

–  Dana

‘A New Beginning’ : Future Spank story (f/m spanking)

The Future Spank contest really revved some imaginations. Here’s another fun one, called ‘A New Beginning’.
– Dana
A New Beginning
By 2,500 A.D. men had turned our planet into a state of constant warfare.  Young men were taken from their families at the age of 6 and raised by the state where they were taught sports and activities designed to enhance military skills.  By the time they were 16 they were conscripted into the military where they lived in barracks and remained soldiers until they were 62.  Fossil fuels were being rationed and renewable energy proved to be a boondoggle and couldn’t be sustained without government subsidies.  Our planet had entered another mini ice age similar to the period when General Washington wintered over at Valley Forge during the American Revolution.  Because of the colder climate we weren’t able to grow as much food and the world population decreased.  Just the opposite of what happened during the medieval period of global warming when Greenland was green and the warm climate allowed a surplus of food to be produced and the world’s population increased.

My name is Boudice and I was able to unite the women of our area with a vision of a better future.  Our borders were secure and there was no need to expand.  My plan was to submit the men to my vision of peace.  I organized the women to withhold sex with their mates until they submitted to our two demands; the end of warfare and election of women to political power.  Over the next years voters realized that women made the best political leaders and we were in total charge of our government.  Men became submissive to women and wars stopped.

That is about the time I discovered an old manuscript from the early 1900’s written by Dorothy Spencer.  She was a leading authority on marital harmony and the lost art of spanking.  She advocated that couples agree to spankings to clear the air.  The spanking would sincerely benefit the party at fault and not lead to dangerous quarrels- when the spanking is over the situation is resolved.  According to her plan revenge, oppression, force, and violence are omitted.  The idea is to administer punishment and avoid arguments that can lead to divorce court.  The plan calls for willful submission to a cooperative system of beneficial discipline.  Spankings should never be administered in anger and men are to be spanked with wooden paddles.  Punishments were to be painful so that the man being spanked would not want to repeat the experience.

The Spencer spanking plan was written into our law codes.  Every willing woman was issued a Spencer style spanking paddle with the authority to apply it to any adult male exhibiting aggressive behavior.  Tracking devices were inserted in the forearms of all males when they reached their 18th birthday.  Any man committing even minor acts of aggression if confronted by a paddle carrying disciplinarian was immediately identified by his tracking device and could choose either jail time or an immediate pants down paddling.  Most men avoided these public paddlings; but, a few seemed to have a strange need for an occasional spanking. They didn’t seem to enjoy the actual spanking but always returned for more  You could tell from their expressions that the spankings were painful but they apparently received some release from the pressures of the day after they were allowed to pull up their pants and continue on their way.

Today on my way home from the government health club I stopped by a food outlet and the young man in front of me argued about his ration card with the government service agent.  I grabbed him by his ear, lowered his pants and briefs to around his knees, bent him over the counter, announced that he would receive 10 spanks for his rude aggressive behavior, and told him that if he didn’t stay in position I would start my count again.  When I finished this 20 year old man was crying uncontrollably and his entire bottom was one bright red welt.  You could make out the imprint of the holes from my paddle!  I don’t think he was one of the men who has a strange need for an occasional paddling.

Now a little more about me.  I am a 35 years old 5′ 11″ tall and an avid body builder.  I have very little body fat due to daily workouts and diet.  These attributes aided me with my leadership during the revolutionary changes in our society.  As one of five Directors and a member of the Senate I wield much political power.  I have a civil union agreement with my mate Eric.  He is very fit like me and a type A male.  Because of this he feels the sting of my paddle about three times a month.  He hates these paddlings as much as I enjoy giving them.

It was brought to my attention that he was involved in an altercation over sharing Nautilus equipment at our government run health center.  When I returned to our housing pod without changing out of my skin tight yoga pants I put a straight backed chair in the middle of our bedroom and laid my Spencer paddle on the chair.  When Eric arrived home I greeted him with a passionate kiss on his mouth and told him to meet me in our bedroom.  When he came into the bedroom I slapped his face, sit in the chair with the paddle on my lap, and ordered him to strip and get over my knee.  I raised the paddle high in the air above my head and brought it down across the middle of his bottom with a snap of my wrist leaving a perfect imprint of my paddle across his bottom as he left out a gasp.  The second spank was just below the first and just as hard leaving another perfect imprint.  Next I started alternating from cheek to cheek as he cried, begged, kicked, squirmed, and danced over my lap.  He likes no part of being draped over my lovely lap.  Twenty-five spanks later his bottom was bright red, his eyes were blood shot and puffy, and tears were running down his face.  When I allowed him off of my lap to do his spanking dance around our room I smiled and felt a feeling of power.  When he finally calmed down I gave him another passionate kiss on his mouth.

Men have learned not to be submissive and not aggressive and warfare is a thing of the past under our new regime.

Couples’ Sessions

 

Most readers would probably be surprised at the number of couples I see in my travels. I think there’s an assumption that all professional disciplinarian’s playmates are men, which couldn’t be farther from the truth, as I have a whole bunch of female playmates, as well. But we’re going to talk about couples today, specifically couples who’re trying to work out their DD dynamics.

Yes, many of the couples with whom I play are bb’s (both bottoms), and in a few the female partner is the spankee, but in the great majority of cases the male partner is the (hopeful) spankee and his lady is his spanker.

Occasionally, my presence is simply a little added spice in what is already a regular and cohesive spanking regimen. Most of the time, though, I’m there to act as either an instructor/cheerleader for the possibly reluctant or less-than-confident spanker, or as the person who doesn’t have emotional connectedness to the bad boy in question and can therefore go much further in disciplining him than his loving spouse may feel comfortable doing herself. Sometimes, it’s just a matter of translating the spanko/partner’s language into something to which the non-spanko half of the couple can relate. And always – always – there is humor, because sometimes we just have to laugh at ourselves.

The most common email request I receive from couples goes something like this (usually, but not always, first contact comes from the spanko/male partner):

Hello Ms. Kane,

I’m 48 and my wife is 46. I’m a spanko and she’s not, but she does spank me sometimes. We’d both like her to enjoy it more so that it’ll happen more often, and we are hoping that you can help.

Thanks,

Dick and Jane

 

I LOVE getting these emails for a number of reasons. First, it’s nice to know that somewhere out there someone is getting spanked for something! Realistically, it’s even nicer to know that there are partners out there who are willing to indulge their mate’s peccadilloes – not out of obligation but out of love and an attempt to better understand. These women are almost never ‘real live spankos’, but many of them make great efforts to be present and knowledgeable in regard to their love’s fetish…not everyone’s that cool or dedicated. Also, I truly do believe the adage ‘the couple that plays together, stays together’, and it really doesn’t matter HOW you play, so long as you do. 

My first advice to these couples is usually, ‘Don’t wait for it to happen. Make it happen.’ We can talk stuff to death without ever actually getting around to doing it, can’t we? There’s also the simple fact that the world will get in the way of our fun every chance it gets, so scheduling is important.

Scheduling fun, you say? 

Hell yes.

Things don’t have to be spontaneous to be fun, you just can’t hang your expectations on those odds. So couples, plan that spanking! Every Tuesday at 9pm, or Sunday mornings without fail. Before long, you’ll be in a regular routine that both of you look forward to equally, and nobody’s blaming anybody else for the lack of spanking going on.

Then it’s just a matter of Practice Makes Perfect – not even the most hardcore spanking fetishists come out of the box with perfecto spanking skills, and a non-spanko partner will need the chance to build confidence with intensity, technique, and implement usage, just like anyone else would. The difference is, she’s not the one thinking about spanking when she goes to sleep every night, so the natural fetishist drive isn’t there – that means learning the right techniques may take longer, or may be more difficult. The worst thing a spanko partner can do in this situation is criticize – and the last thing that the non-spanko spanker can do is apologize. Confidence is critical, and that’s one of the main things we work on in couples sessions. Whether she feels it or not, it should be projected…kind of a ‘fake it til you make it’ psychology, but it works. Before you know it, that projected confidence is so practiced that it comes naturally – then it belongs to her, and your butt is toast.

And isn’t that all most of us really want in life…a toasty butt?

–  Dana

 

‘Future Story’ : A great Future Spank read!

 

Readers,

Last but certainly not least in the Future Spank contest, here’s an entry aptly titled ‘Future Story’. I’m sure you’ll enjoy it as much as I did.

 

–  Dana

 

 

‘Future Story’

 

I open my eyes to a room with soft, white light.

“Welcome back,” says a tall woman who is standing over me with a tablet. “You’ve been out for quite a while.”

“Out?” I ask, trying to understand what she is talking about, or even where I am for that matter. 

She gives me a small smile and shakes her head. “I forget that none of you ever seems to remember what’s happening for the first few moments. Not to worry, it will all come back to you soon enough.”

I am in a bed, wearing a gown very similar to what I am always given for a medical exam, and this woman appears to be reading a file about me.

“Am I in the hospital?” I ask, still very confused.

“Not quite,” she explains, still glancing down at the tablet. “We have been monitoring your health the entire time you’ve been here though.”

“Where is here, and how long have I been here?” I ask.

Looking up from the tablet, her expression grows more serious. “Do you remember anything about discussing a program that would allow you to deal with problems in the future that you were unable to resolve when you came to us?”

While I am not entirely sure of what she is talking about, I do have a vague memory concerning a therapist telling me about a new technique that would allow people to take time away from the stress of everyday life and deal with that stress at a point in the future. I must have decided to take a break from my normal life for a few months, because I can also remember the thought of briefly escaping from everything seeming appealing.

“I remember something about that,” I confirm, sitting up to continue the conversation. “Did I decide to spend a few months here?”

She frowns slightly, placing a hand on my shoulder. “This is going to come as a bit of a shock to you, but it’s actually been many years since you entered into our program. Your original paperwork did request a shorter stay, but it seems like there was a glitch shortly after you came here. In our move to program everything into computers and go paperless, a careless assistant typed in the wrong release date for you.”

As I try to process what she has told me, I feel panic setting in, quickly replaced by anger and confusion. “What the hell do you mean, years? How many years? Do you know how hard it’s going to be for me to explain being away for years? I probably don’t have a job anymore, and this will be a huge shock to my friends and family. How could you screw up so badly with something so important?”

“Watch your tone with me, young lady,” she says firmly, setting the tablet aside and moving to sit on the edge of the bed. “I know this is difficult to hear, but if you will just listen, I plan to explain everything.”

“I’m sorry,” I tell her, taking a deep breath. “The news that I have been away from everything for years is just overwhelming. I realize that it isn’t your fault personally.”

“I understand,” she assures me, giving my shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “You were out for much longer than intended, and things have changed quite a bit since your time. Will you please let me explain everything to you?”

I nod, not sure of what to say.

“The first thing I want you to understand is that since the mistake on your records was an error on our part, we plan to take full responsibility for helping you with the adjustment period you will be facing. I have personally requested to be your full time counselor for as long as you need any help,” she informs me.

“Can’t I just let people I already know help with that?” I ask, thinking that I really should see about calling a friend to get a ride home.

“I’m so sorry to have to tell you this, but you were out for over fifty years,” she says, looking very concerned. “There is nobody on your contact list who is still around.”

“BUT I DON’T LOOK ANY OLDER,” I shriek, feeling the panic rise again.

“What did I tell you about your tone, young lady?” she says. “I know this is alarming, but you will behave in a civil manner with me. There have been quite a few advances in medical technology over the past fifty years, and the reason you don’t look older is because you have been given regular doses of a formula that prevents you from aging while you are not active. It’s a service provided to every client we see.”

It occurs to me that I am lucky not to have aged, because waking up older would be too much to process on top of everything else that has happened.

“I know this is a lot to take in,” my counselor tells me sympathetically, “but I am here to make sure that you are going to be alright. I would like to get the mechanical medics in here to examine you, then, we can go over some of the issues you wanted help with when you first got here if that’s okay. Do you have any questions?”

“What is a mechanical medic?” I ask, nervously.

“Roughly thirty years ago, hospitals developed very advanced software and machinery that can be much faster and more precise than humans at performing most medical tasks and analyzing data. Human doctors are still in charge, but we prefer to use the technology available to us to ensure a much more thorough and accurate exam,” she explains. “The whole process usually doesn’t take more than fifteen minutes, and I will be observing everything. Is there anything else you would like to know?”

“What is your name?” I ask her.

“You can call me Dr. M,” she says.

To my surprise, the exam with the mechanical medics is nowhere near as unpleasant as I originally imagined it would be. Both devices enter the room with a movement similar to that of a remote controlled toy car, then, quickly produce gadgets that look a bit like smartphones.

“Most of the data needed for an examination can be taken with simple scans these days,” Dr. M informs me, keeping her eye on the medics. “And since your health was monitored during your entire stay, it won’t take long to compare the data collected not with records already on file. The main point of this exam is to make sure that you are still in good physical condition after being inactive.”

After a few short minutes of scans, both mechanical medics leave. Dr. M makes a few notes on her tablet, then, informs me that the exam found me to be perfectly healthy.

“The next thing I would like to do is discuss some of your initial reasons for coming here. Do you think you are ready for that right now?” she asks me.

My memory from my time prior to waking up in my current situation is still not entirely clear, but maybe, something she plans to discuss will help me recall more details.

“I’m ready,” I tell her.

She reads from her tablet for a moment before speaking. “I see from your file that you had a lot of trouble dealing with some of the responsibilities in your everyday life. Does that sound familiar?”

Now, I do remember more about why I came here in the first place. I remember how I felt overwhelmed at work, and how most of my life had seemed very chaotic, largely because I had trouble planning for the future and had ended up just going from one event to the next without any goals or thoughts of what would happen next. I also remember being unsatisfied with the direction that things were going in my work and personal life, but every time I thought about steps I could take to improve the situation, I got anxious and talked myself out of ever doing anything.

“I can remember why I needed help in the first place,” I tell her. “I remember that I didn’t do the best job of living as a well-rounded, responsible adult, but I wasn’t sure how to fix that problem, so I decided to avoid dealing with it at all for a little while.”

Dr. M nods, giving me a stern look. “I think you have summed up your troubles perfectly. Fortunately for you, there is a very simple way to resolve some of those issues. It’s just a shame that you weren’t provided with it in your time, because I am quite sure it was available fifty years ago.”

“What is the solution?” I ask, curious to find out what she is talking about. “If you have a medication to keep me young, there must be a drug you can give me that will make confident enough to do everything I need. Is it something like that?”

“I’m afraid it doesn’t work that way,” Dr. M answers, shaking her head. “For all of the advances we have made in behavioral health, we find that there are times when the old methods still work the best. You, young lady, do not need a magic drug or quick fix for the issues that caused you to struggle. You need to learn some self-discipline, and it will be my job to help you with that.”

“How are you planning to help me?” I ask, thinking that this conversation is starting to sound very much like one of the past lectures I would have received from my parents or one of my teachers. 

“We are going to work together on  coming up with a list of goals that you will work towards in order to avoid getting back into the negative habits you had in the past, and I am going to start providing you with consequences for any negative or  self-defeating behaviors, usually in the form of physical punishment,” she states.

“You’re going to spank me?” I ask in disbelief.

“Yes,” she replies, grinning with amusement at my disbelief. “If you aren’t capable of acting like a mature adult, you certainly aren’t going to be treated like one. From what I gathered by reading your file, I think you’ve needed a good spanking for a long time, and I fully intend to give you one.”

Setting her tablet aside, Dr. M comes to sit at the edge of the bed again. “I think we should begin now,” she says, taking me by the hand. “It’s better if we address your previous behavior so that you can start with a clean slate.”

Realizing what is about to happen, I try to pull my hand away from her.

“Don’t fight me,” she orders, pulling me across her lap effortlessly in spite of my struggling. 

My muscles are all much weaker than they should be from lack of use over the past fifty years, and I quickly realize that any attempt to escape her grip is going to be pointless. Because there is nothing else I can do, I quit trying to pull away and allow her to position me across her knees.

“That’s much better,” she responds, raising the gown above my waist and quickly removing my panties. “This won’t be easy, but you know that you have earned it.”

Without further delay, she begins to deliver firm slaps with her palm. “Things are going to be very different for you,” she lectures, continuing to spank. “You are going to make the effort to take responsibility for your own life, and believe me, you will end up with a very sore bottom if you don’t change your behavior.”

“I’m sorry,” I whimper, now squirming every time her hand strikes. My skin is quickly growing very sensitive, and I am amazed at how much pain I am feeling from just her hand.

“I’m sure you are sorry now,” she replies, increasing the intensity of the spanking, “and you will be very sorry every time I have to do this. But I want you to understand, it really is for your benefit.”

Several minutes pass, and I take the rest of the spanking in silence except for the occasional yelp or whimper. By the time we are finished, she has managed to bring forth a few tears. This experience has been painful, but I also find that I am feeling much calmer than I have in the past few hours since waking up.

“It’s over,” she assures me, rubbing my back gently. “You were a very good girl to take that without too much trouble.”

“Thank you,” I tell her. 

“You’re very welcome,” she says, pulling me into a hug. “I know that wasn’t fun, but I think you will find that it is going to help you tremendously.”

“I’m just glad that you don’t have some sort of machine to deal with punishments,” I say, laughing a little. “Your hand was hard enough.”

“Oh, there are mechanical discipline devices,” she informs me with an evil grin, “but there are still a few things that I believe are better when left to humans.”

“What will I do now?” I ask her.

“You will trust me to help you for the time being,” she says. “Things are very different from when you came in here, and it’s going to be a big adjustment, but I think you will have a lot to look forward to in the future.”

“How different are things?” I ask. “Will I get to have robots do everything for me or have a car that can drive itself?”

She grins, shaking her head at me. “Young lady, the whole reason you got into this situation in the first place was from not being able to take care of things yourself. The last thing you need is to depend on technology that will allow that problem to continue.”

“Well, if I’m not going to be using all kinds of new technology, what am I going to be doing?” I ask, my tone getting slightly whiney.

“Well, I can see another spanking in your immediate future if you want to pout,” she says, taking me by the arm again.

“No,” I protest. “I get it. I promise, I will work on taking care of things for myself.”

“Alright,” she says, letting go of my arm and getting up from the bed. “I have some work to finish up, and I want you to get a little rest. I will be back to check on you shortly.”

I settle back into bed, whimpering a little when my sore bottom first makes contact with the bed.

“I have a feeling that you will be sleeping on your stomach quite a bit at first,” Dr. M says, smiling at me before she steps out of the room.

I laugh a little too knowing that she is probably right. As I start falling asleep, I think about what my life is going to be like in the future. It seems that I won’t be playing with robots or driving flying cars for the time being, but I think I will be okay.

“At least she didn’t get the robots to spank me,” I mutter to myself before drifting off to sleep.

 

Clear-Conscience Consumerism (Unrelated to Spanking)

 

I try to be reasonably well-informed about the food I eat and the products I use, more so now than ever before, and that includes the yummy-girly-sniffy stuff, too.

You can’t walk into any drugstore, department store, supermarket, or even 99cent place without seeing hundreds (or thousands) of ‘beauty products’ – stuff geared (mostly) toward women that’s supposed to make us look, smell, and feel better. Problem with most of that stuff is that it’s a)terrible for you b)terrible for the environment c)tested on cute little tortured bunnies or d)all of the above. Really. Most of the stuff that they sell you in the beauty aisle is runoff from petrochemical processing and chemical by-product. Does that make you feel at all pretty or fresh? Yeah, me either.

After a playmate gifted me with an unbelievably-great-smelling gift box from Lush Cosmetics (lushusa.com), I was immediately hooked. The first thing I noticed after the scent was the large ‘Stop Animal Testing’ logo on their packaging (which is very mimimal, by the way, as they’re pro-reuse/recycle/biodegradable, too). None of the Lush product line contain animal products, and many are completely vegan – they even make zero-impact, beeswax free lip conditioner that is out of this world. Right down to the packing peanuts in their shipped boxes, which are made from biodegradable rice puff rather than unrecyclable styrofoam! It’s also worth mentioning that not only is each and every product in their line packaged and inspected by a specific company employee, LUSH is headquartered in Vancouver, BC, and all their products are sourced and produced right there in Canada.

So this stuff’s real hippy-dippy, you’re thinking, which is fine for girls who wear birkenstocks and don’t shave their legs, but not for Regular People….wrong. This stuff is really excellent, lasts forever, and is very reasonably priced when considering the great good done by leaving out tortured bunnies, clear-cut rainforests, and multi-syllabic chemical compounds nobody could ever really identify.

I’ve become somewhat preoccupied with eliminating as much chemical-infused junk as possible, so I’ve incorporated lots of their products already, and I love each and every one of them. The solid shampoo bars they make (amazing idea!) smell divine (I use Godiva), last forever, and lather better than the very best salon shampoo. My hair actually feels clean after using it and smells insanely good for hours. The bath gels are all scrumptious, but I prefer It’s Raining Men – a kind of sexy, honey scent that leaves skin (and hair!) moisturized and glowing. Then there’s Fresh Farmacy, quite possibly the best cleanser I’ve found for my…ahem…mature yet still-prone-to-spots skin. I could go on and on here, including the solid patchouli-scented Aromaco deodorant which is the BEST deodorant I’ve ever used, ever.

Check out LUSH online, or at one of their US boutiques, and tell me that you don’t absolutely love at least five things you find there. (And the bunnies will thank you.)

–  Dana

PS. Also, as you may have guessed, I’m enjoying writing outside the spanking theme more lately, and have categorized these posts as Totally Unrelated to Spanking in the ‘Favorite Subjects’ navigation in the right-hand sidebar.

PPS. I’m not being paid to gush about LUSH, nor do I get a coupon or cookie for the rave review. I just really like their products, and especially respect their ethics.

‘Disengaging Autodrive’ : A Future Spank fantasy (f/m spanking)

‘Disengaging Autodrive’ is just another example of the creativity of spanko minds at work in the Future Spank story contest. Enjoy!

– Dana

Disengaging Autodrive
———————

Jeff Miller was the kind of self-absorbed jerk that gets promoted to Vice-President just a little too quickly. He stood at the point in his office where the south and the west windows intersected and looked far down to the roof of the executive parking structure, his eyes fixed on a single vehicle parked there. He had parked on the roof instead of in the covered parking this morning so that he could observe his new Nikola sportscar from a new angle several times throughout the day. The sun in the west window was almost parallel to the floor now, and it was Friday, and it was time to go.

The Nikola was a purchase that people like Jeff made when they wanted to show off. It was beautifully put together and very powerful, but it was also three times the price of the sweatshop-made warehouse-club cars that most people used, barely any bigger, and only slightly more comfortable. For all the power that the Nikola had, it was a slave to the ubiquitous autodrive feature that guided every car on the road to its destination, which meant that it didn’t actually arrive any faster than the cheapest plastic bubble on the road. But it was beautiful, and sitting in one told the world that you had more money than them, which is why Jeff had to have one.

On the ride this morning, the Nikola’s autodrive had moved him efficiently from home to work while Jeff had used the heads-up display to read some messages, surf the web, watch the news, and make some video calls. He hadn’t even touched the Nikola’s steering wheel nor any of the pedals. As he slid into the soft leather seat of the Nikola for his evening commute he instructed the car, “Nikola, take me home.”

“Destination set: home. Enjoy your ride,” replied the car.

Before the car had started, Jeff blurted out, “Wait. Screw it. Disengage autodrive.” A small smile spread across Jeff’s lips.

“Command not understood.”

“Nikola, Disengage autodrive.” Jeff’s smile faded.

“Are you sure?” Asked the car.

“Dis-engage-auto-drive!” Jeff shouted.

The car began to display and read a section from it’s user manual, “Mandatory government warning: Since 2025, all vehicles have been fitted with mandatory autodrive capability for your safety and efficiency. Disabling autodrive is highly discouraged and is for emergency use only. A $20 per mile tax will be assessed upon vehicles driving without autodrive to compensate the victims of road accidents. User is solely responsible for all traffic violations incurred while driving without autodrive. To continue to disengage autodrive, you must digitally sign a waiver by scanning your thumb on the fingerprint reader. Continue?”

Jeff’s smile was gone and he muttered something about the “bloody nanny state” under his breath. He swiped his thumb across the fingerprint reader and a moment later a small whirring sound announced the appearance of the steering wheel and pedals from a hiding place behind the dashboard. He flicked the start button, tapped the Nikola into forward gear, and eased silently out of the parking lot.

In his college days, Jeff drove one of the last gas-powered sportscars made, too old to be fitted with autodrive, and too much fun. He got his fair share of speeding tickets too, and under the government’s financial-means-tested penalty policy, when he was a college student he didn’t make enough money to be assessed a financial penalty. Not being assessed a penalty didn’t mean getting off lightly though.

When the government first introduced a financial-means-tested sliding scale of financial penalties for misdemeanors based on people’s ability to pay, there was a huge complaint from the middle classes. Average people’s nest-eggs for vacations and bigger TVs were eaten away by fines, whereas college students with no assets and little income got small fines or no fines at all. College students started to commit misdemeanors for fun knowing that they would not have to pay a fine for it. Something had to be done. A year later, the so-called ‘spanking bill’ passed through the government easily.

The government’s spanking bill meant that those who were getting away without paying a fine would now be physically punished instead. It was usually 12 strokes of an 8mm diameter, meter-long synthetic cane. Rather than having a sweaty police officer haphazardly striking the offenders, a spanking robot was developed that could clinically strike the offender’s bottom, with equal force in each stroke, and place the strokes parallel and slightly separated so as not to overlap the strokes. A room in the police station was used for the canings, and a police officer was present in case of a machine malfunction.

Jeff had received about 10 canings over the course of his college career, more than anyone he knew. The first ones were pretty scary, but after a while he realized that the canings weren’t that bad; the pain went away with aspirin and beer, and the marks went away after a few days. He even played “naughty speeder and angry police officer” with his college girlfriend from time to time and thoroughly enjoyed being on the receiving end of the inevitable spanking, but he was too stupid at the time to keep her as his girlfriend. Once he had graduated from college, he cleaned up his act and got a real job, he was assessed a few financial penalties for speeding, but then he replaced his old gas-guzzler with an electric autodrive car and never received a ticket after that.

Tonight, the fun was back. With the autodrive disengaged and Jeff at the wheel of the powerful Nikola, he surged past clusters of autodrive cars causing them to move erratically as they adjusted their trajectories for the single non-autodrive car around them, awakening their drivers or interrupting their entertainment. At some point in Jeff’s journey, a yellow light illuminated on the Nikola’s dashboard, indicating that he was exceeding the speed limit, but Jeff knew this section of freeway and knew that they had taken down the speed cameras years ago, and that it wouldn’t have a motorcycle patrol on it unless there was an accident. Besides, with his new salary, he knew he could easily afford whatever financial penalty that might be assessed for a speeding ticket.

As soon as Jeff arrived home and put the Nikola into park, he accepted an incoming video call on the Nikola’s heads-up display. It was the image of a female police officer, about his age, attractive, and somehow familiar. “This is officer Kane from the city police. Jeff Miller, your vehicle has reported that you have exceeded the speed limit at mile marker 217 of the President Wendy Davis Memorial Freeway at 6:15PM tonight, Friday the 23rd of March. Do you wish to contest the ticket?”

“Rat Bastard,” thought Jeff to himself – he had been turned in by his own car! There was no point in arguing, the police undoubtedly had all the evidence they needed from the Nikola’s telemetry. All that was left to do was to pay the fine. “No, Ma’am,” replied Jeff.

“Very well, report to the police station in precinct 7 immediately. I’ll send the coordinates to your autodrive,” said the image of the woman.

Jeff thought this was all wrong. Normally when you get a fine you just put your thumb on the fingerprint reader and pay it from your vehicle. Why did he need to go to the station? “Officer Kane, how much is the means-tested penalty for this offense? I’ll happily pay it by thumbprint right here on my dashboard,” said Jeff.

“The penalty is 18 strokes of a 12mm diameter, 1 meter synthetic cane. Report to the police station immediately. Officer Kane out.” The image disappeared.

Jeff’s mind raced. How could this be? Then it dawned on him, when means-tested financial penalties were introduced, there was a public outcry when financial penalties were being assessed on people with high salaries that were more costly than the cars the offenses were being committed in. The government’s spanking bill had both a lower salary limit and an upper salary limit, and his new salary put him above the limit. As he re-engaged the autodrive, the Nikola’s steering wheel retreated into the dashboard as if it had taken a cold shower.

Officer Kane was waiting on the steps of the police station as Jeff pulled up, having been alerted of Jeff’s arrival by the Nikola’s telemetry. Jeff got out of the car and instructed it to find the nearest available parking. Officer Kane was an amazing sight with her dark hair, piercing blue eyes, and muscular body displayed beautifully in her aerodynamic skin-tight motorcycle officer’s uniform. She was also taller than Jeff due to the tall stiletto heels on her boots that engage into the motorcycle’s safety system.

“Nice outfit,” said Jeff. “Do I know you?”

“Nice car,” replied officer Kane. “You’d better hope not.”

“Can I take you for a ride later?” Asked Jeff.

“You’re going to be taking a serious caning, Mr Miller. You’re not going to want to ride anything afterwards. Let’s go inside,” and with that, Officer Kane led Jeff into the punishment room that was just off the station lobby.

The punishment room was similar to the ones Jeff remembered from his college days, simply furnished with a punishment frame in the center, a punishment robot just off to the side of the frame, a coatrack, and a selection of canes on the wall, with the 12mm one being the thickest.

“Remove all your clothing and place it on the coatrack,” instructed Officer Kane, “and scan your thumb over the punishment docket.” Jeff did as he was told. Officer Kane then led Jeff over to the punishment frame and secured the straps for his wrists, upper arms, waist, upper thighs, and ankles. No movement was possible, ensuring an accurate, safe and even set of stripes from the punishment robot. Officer Kane loaded the 12mm cane into the punishment robot and gave it a fearsome-sounding test ‘swoosh’ before locking the robot in position.

Officer Kane stood in front of the punishment frame, face to face with Jeff. “Jeff Miller, you have been sentenced to 18 strokes of the 12mm diameter cane for the offenses listed in the punishment docket. You have declined a court trial. Your punishment begins now,” said officer Kane dispassionately, and then she lifted the safety cover on the spanking robot master control, dialled in 18 strokes, flicked the start button, and returned to the front of the spanking frame so she could study Jeff’s face.

The first stroke exploded on to Jeff’s backside, near the top of his buttocks. He yelled out in pain for a short moment until the second stroke landed just a little below the first. He was preoccupied with his pain but briefly noticed officer Kane studying his face intently. The third and fourth strokes elicited loud grunts from Jeff. The fifth stroke surprised him, despite being perfectly aimed and timed by the punishment robot, and he opened his eyes to notice that officer Kane was no longer standing in front of him. The sixth stroke landed and made him gasp, and then he heard a small click. The seventh stroke was late.

“Machine malfunction,” announced Officer Kane. “I’m going to have to complete the punishment manually.” Jeff heard the sound of the cane being removed from the punishment robot. “I’ll just move the punishment robot out of the way, after all, I need my space,” said officer Kane with a slightly sarcastic tone.

It was in that moment that Jeff realized where he recognized Officer Kane from. The words, “I need my space” were the last words that Jeff had texted to his college girlfriend. They were both older, and she had been working out, and had changed her hair, and was using a married name, and was taller in stiletto boots than the flats she wore in college, but it was definitely her. And he knew the rest of his punishment wasn’t going to be any easier.

“Disengaging the autodrive? Mr Miller, you should know better.” With that came three quick strikes from the cane, perfectly landing below the other ones, and if anything they were harder than the ones the robot had delivered. “Did you know you could have killed someone?” chided Officer Kane, before delivering three hard strokes right on top of one another in the crease between his buttocks and upper thighs that bruised almost immediately.

 

Jeff let out a yell and then grunted a “No Ma’am” as best he could. He was sweating hard.

“Six more,” announced officer Kane, “Did you know you’d be punished?” She landed three hard ones barely a second apart across the tops of his thighs creating three more bright stripes.

 

Jeff struggled against the restraints and then succumbed, grunting a further “No Ma’am”.

“Did you know that I have punishment duty on Mondays and Fridays?” Asked officer Kane, before delivering the last three strokes at an angle, intersecting several of the stripes on the fleshy part of his buttocks and causing him to squeal in pain.

 

“No Ma’am, but I do now” replied Jeff. Jeff relaxed a little against the restraints and unclenched his buttocks, exhausted from the ordeal. Then he heard a couple of quick footsteps behind him and felt an immense pain squarely across his backside and extending around his side as the tip of the cane wrapped around and struck his hip. Jeff yelled out as a piece of the synthetic cane snapped off and hit the wall. Officer Kane had used all her strength for that 19th stroke, and had surprised herself a little by breaking one of the so-called “unbreakable” canes.

 

“That one’s from me. Now get out of here,” said officer Kane as she undid the straps, “and you’d better hope you don’t get another punishment from me.”

While Jeff was dressing, he noticed that the spanking robot looked fine, other than that the emergency stop had been depressed. He thanked Officer Kane, gingerly walked out of the station, called the Nikola over to the station steps, and let the autodrive take him home while he lay face-down across the back seat.

Over the course of the weekend, and with the help of some aspirin and good whisky, Jeff’s pain subsided to a dull glow and he felt rather good about the incident. So much so in fact, that the following Monday evening Jeff left work as the sun was setting, disengaged the autodrive on his Nikola, joined the freeway, and pressed the accelerator down until the yellow light came on.

 

New Survey – ‘You’re in Good Hands’

 

New Spanko Survey time – this time we’re talking all about hands – hand spanking and all the extras. If you’re a fan of handspanking, you’ll have fun with this one.

 

…there’s also a link at the top of the blog with the survey embedded, in case you want to come back to it later. After enough responders have completed the survey, I’ll post the preliminary stats.

Another fun Future Spank story (f/m spaking)

 

Readers,

Here’s a sweet little untitled entry to the Future Spank story contest – what a wealth of riches we’ve had with this contest!

– Dana

 

 

It was my final year at high school and we were about to graduate. My teacher was Dana10/93, who is a robot. Robotic teachers have largely replaced humans as teachers because they can teach multiple

subjects as opposed to human teachers who largely specialized in one subject.However she was an excellent teacher and she earned our respect. She got us to call her Miss Dana but that
didn’t stop us calling her “Miss Tin Teacher” behind her back.

She had arranged a trip to New Zealand as part of a cultural exchange and we were learn about the Maori
people and their way of life. Before the trip, we received a lessons on Maori protocols and how to behave
when meeting and greeting them.

The school Jetbus picked Angela and I from our homes and whisked us to Las Vegas International Airport
where we boarded a hypersonic Hyperjet. A couple of hours later we landed at Auckland International

Airport in New Zealand where we boarded another Jetbus and then we disembarked at a Maori village in the city of Rotorua.

As soon as we stepped off the Jetbus we were greeted by a Maori woman singing in Maori. When we

entered the village we were suddenly confronted by a Maori Warrior approaching us waving a spear, poking out
his tongue and challenging me to pick up the branch of a tree that lay on the ground in front of me.

Although all our class had been briefed on the correct way to respond to the Maori challenge, Angela and I

collapsed into gales of laughter before Miss Dana quickly stepped in front of me and solemnly
picked up the branch but not before giving Angela and I an extremely angry look.After the welcome Miss Dana wanted Angela and I excluded from the dinner and activities our Maori hosts

had planned for our class and to go wait on the Jetbus, but the Maori Elders convinced her to let Angela and I

remain with the class and enjoy the hospitality and generosity the Maori people are renown for.

After a delicious dinner which Angela and I rather guiltily ate, we enjoyed the entertainment our Maori hosts had
laid on for us, and then it was time to say good bye to our new Maori friends. Then Miss Dana confronted Angela and I.

“Firstly let me say how I am very angry and disappointed in you two for the extremely rude and totally insensitive behaviour  to our Maori hosts. You have not only let yourselves down but also sullied the good name and reputation of our school and for that you two will be punished”

“I have sent a video of you two’s appalling behaviour to your parents and they have allowed me punish you

both in any way I deem appropriate”. “You are both are to report me for detention at school when we get
back to Las Vegas”The plane trip back to Las Vegas was largely silent for Angela and I as we reflected on our behaviour and
began dreading the detention that was coming. Even our classmates were and angry and disappointed at
us for ruining an otherwise successful and thoroughly enjoyable school outing.

We reported to Miss Dana for detention as ordered. She was dressed in an nineteenth century
school mistress attire and we entered a holographic recreation of historic American classroom.
Then Miss Dana addressed Angela and I :

“I have sent a report and copy of the video to the Principal and School Board of you two’s behaviour in New
Zealand and they have recommended to me that I should not allow you two to graduate. However I have
convinced the them both that is far too severe of a punishment. With both your parents permission,  I will

be punishing you both the way rude and disrespectful children were punished in the novel The Adventures of
Tom Sawyer”.

Angela and my hearts sank. We had both read The Adventures of Tom Sawyer as part of our lessons on

I immediately yelled in pain, jumped up and began frantically rubbing my bottom. Tears began welling in my eyes.
Miss Dana immediately commanded me to bend over the desk again.

“You have completely disregarded my instructions to you about moving and your hands.That will be two
extra strokes. You also failed to count the stroke and thank me. I will now recommence your caning”

CRAAACKK!!! The caning re-started. My bottom felt as if someone applied a red hot branding iron to it.
I began to cry and just managed to whisper “One thank you Miss Dana”

CRAAACKK!!! “Two thank you Miss Dana”

CRAAACKK!!! “Three thank you Miss Dana” I was crying uncontrollably by now.

CRAAACKK!!! “Four thank you Miss Dana”. I could barely speak. I had never experienced anything so painful
in my life.

CRAAACKK!!! “Five thank you Miss Dana”. By now my bottom was a mass of stinging, throbbing and aching
agony.

CRAAACKK!!! “Six thank you Miss Dana”

Suddenly my caning stopped and Miss Dana inspected my bottom and lightly rubbed it. It felt so good and I
thought my ordeal was over. She then walked over to the front of me and spoke to me.

“You have taken your punishment remarkably well but you still have two extra strokes to endure. See if you
can get through it without any extra strokes”

She then walked to take up her position behind me and I heard an ominous “Whooop” as she swished the
cane and I felt the three light taps on my bottom again.

CRAAACKK!!! I howled in agony and just managed to blurt out “Seven thank you Miss Dana”

CRAAACKK!!! My bottom was in so my pain I had to rub my bottom. In the nick of time I just remembered

to whisper “Eight thank you Miss Dana”

Miss Dana patiently waited for me to finish rubbing my bottom. “You forgot my rule about placing your hand on your bottom. For that you will receive an extra stroke. For you sake I hope it is your final one”

CRAAAACCKKK!!! My final stroke was delivered with real venom and and was the hardest of the lot. I
screamed in agony and in between my sobs just managed to say “Nine thank you Miss Dana”
I then slumped over the desk bawling.

I then felt Miss Dana hand as she applied her ointment to my bottom and almost immediately the pain and

welts that have covered my bottom began to disappear. I still had faint red stripes on my bottom when I looked in the mirror at home.

Miss Dana then ordered me to pull up my trousers and to sit down at my desk. I sat down rather gingerly
and then Angela and I continued with the rest of our detention which consisted of us composing an apology
in Maori which we did using a Universal Translator and International Languages Database. We then sent the

apology to the Maori Elders in Rotorua New Zealand.

Win a FREE 1 Year DanaKaneSpanks.com Membership! (Give til it Hurts Raffle #2)

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After an immensely fun and successful first Give til it Hurts raffle (see info and links in the top tab), where the prize was a set of spanking implements and awesome video featuring Angel, it’s time to do another fun thing – with PRIZES – for a great cause.

That’s right, I said prizes, with an s, as in plural. To make this as much fun as possible, and to give donors another chance to win, I’ll be holding TWO drawings for this raffle.

 

The winner of Give Til it Hurts Raffle #2 will receive:

 

1 Year FREE Membership to DanaKaneSpanks.com !

 

Unlimited Member Access to over 200  full-length F/M and F/F spanking scenes, POVs, Product Testing with Dana Kane series, and more. Updated Weekly.

…and one Runner Up will receive a FREE 30 day membership to the site.

 

RAFFLE TICKETS ARE ONLY $5 EACH.

($5 = 1 TICKET; $25 = 5 TICKETS; $100 = 20 TICKETS; ETC)

 

Buying raffle tickets (and helping animals in need) is simple – just email me at DanaKaneSpanks@gmail.com and let me know how many tickets you’d like. You may choose to pay either through Paypal or with your credit card.

 

*  Raffle runs from March 3 – March 31, 2014. Every single cent donated will go directly to reputable animal charities. All donation totals and organizations in receipt of funds will be posted publicly, with individual donor information always kept confidential. (Payment processors charge percentages of donations, both coming and going…I kick in those percentages so that no money donated is lost on hidden charges.) I’ll also video the drawing so that everyone knows that there’s no favoritism and everything’s on the up and up.

** Purchase price of 1 year membership to DanaKaneSpanks.com is $299.40, at $24.95 for a single month.

*** If you have any questions or would like to nominate your favorite animal charity to receive funds from Give Til it Hurts, please email me directly: danakanespanks@gmail.com.

_____________________________

_____________________________

Spankos, Bloggers, Social Media Butterflies, and all animal lovers in general:

PLEASE help us get the word out about the ‘Give Til it Hurts’ fundraising efforts – every post, share, tweet, facebook/tumblr/reddit/instagram/etc gives us more chances to help animals in need. (And now I’ve made it super simple for you – just click one (or all!) of the share buttons at the top of the post.)

‘The New Toy’ : Future Spank story

Short, sweet, and powerful, I think you’re going to like ‘The New Toy’ – another entry in the Future Spank story contest.

– Dana

The new toy

 

My eyes flickered open to the red glow of the morning sun. I rubbed my eyes as usual and stretched. A familiar voice greeted me. “Good morning Ms Anderson. Here is your morning coffee and newspaper. I took the liberity of downloading all of the morning news and events that you usually follow. Would you like your morning update?”  I declined and just held out my hand. Robert, my 6000 series, handed me the digital file.  As I plugged it into my digitizer the morning briefing came online.

 

There was no bad news today as like every other day. It is so much better then it was before. No  rape, no murder and no one being murdered. The new robots took care of that. They were quite good and  were almost indistinguishable from humans. Their only flaw logic.  Emotion is something that can not be programmed in.

 

As I sat and thought about the days task my mind kept wondering. The new 6000 series was supposed to follow every command. They were made to keep their owners satisfied in every way possible.  They were even able to respond and react to sexual pleasure and tonight I was going to test out how well they would respond to something else. I wanted him to give me the spanking of my life. It wasn’t because I was punishing myself or because I had done something wrong, The digitizer located behind my left ear made sure of that.  I was just because I liked it.  There was something about being bent over over by him that I had fantasized about.  I sat down at my computer and I put together several files for me to upload into his system.  I knew once I uploaded everything there was no going back.

 

The ride to the office was the same boring thing.  Cars were fitted with magnetic pulsars  and roads were polarized differently . They took the same technology from a old bullet train that rode on magnetic rails and implemented them into cars.  Getting rid of pollution and the need for fuel all  together.  The office was just about as boring. The one good thing here was that everyone was still human.  I liked running the leading software company in the world. Everyday I get to face challenges that that is what I liked but today  my mind was not in it and the day just seemed to drag on.

 

 

When I arrived home Robert was not there to greet me as usual.  I called for him but he didnt answer. I figured he must be charging.  I hung up my bad and placed my shoes next to the door and started to walk inside When all of a sudden I felt a hand grab my arm.  I turned around in shock to see that it was Robert.  I struggled against him but it was useless.  I might as well have been an kitten trying to escape. He led me to the bedroom and pulled me across his lap. In less then a second my skirt and panties were torn off.  Then it landed,  the first hit.  It felt like fire had torn across my ass and I flinched and tried to get away but it was useless. Blow after blow  his hand landed  first the right cheek then the left. There was no area that was being missed.  I continued to struggle but it was in vane. Tears were streaming down my face  and I pleaded with him to stop. My pleas were only answered by another blow. Before I knew it my struggling had turned into grinding as the blows came faster and faster. I reached my peak  and as I lay drenched and crying across his lap the blows  stopped. He gently lifted me up and began to caresses my face.  I folded into his arms and sobbed quietly. Thank you Robert I needed that. Now delete all files.

 

Then end.

‘The Spanker’ : Another great Future Spank entry (f/m spanking)

Angel’s Guardian Angel (from the Give til it Hurts fundraiser) entered this fun story for the Future Spank contest – enjoy!

– Dana

“The Spanker” (a satirical homage)
by “Guardian Angel”

He had watched the series too often to count. A Twilight Zone marathon this week. Marathon. A winner in the long run, even though it was prematurely cancelled. Relegated to the network graveyard in 1964. But reborn because all good things do not come to an end.
He was viewing the final-season episode entitled “The Brain Center at Whipple’s”. Not a classic, but prescient for the present year 2164.
The titular character Whipple owned a factory that was in its downsizing phase. Whipple was firing workers and replacing them with machines. In the end, technology led to the undoing of Whipple. Who was bitter and alone.

Like Whipple, he despised technology. He looked to his left, cursing it. The machine. Piece of crap! Two centuries after “Whipple’s” aired, technology was still the bane of his existence.
And “piece of crap” was also an idiomatic expression two centuries later. For him, an appropriate criticism of The Spanker. The inexpensive version of The Spanker that he purchased was of poor quality. And, therefore, was prone to repairs. He called the company to complain. Help was on the way. He cursed the company that manufactured The Spanker, cursed the company that sold The Spanker, cursed The Spanker and cursed The Spanker’s absent repairman.
He was impatiently biding his time until the service representative arrived. He glanced at the time indicator on his wrist for the fifth time.

Fifty-five minutes later, the highly-anticipated chime. He was in a foul mood. When he opened the front door, his eyes widened. Surprisingly, the repairperson was a female wearing a baseball-like cap with the company name emblazoned on it. She removed the cap and issued the textbook apology. But before she could introduce herself, he voiced his first complaint to her.
“Ikea sells crap!”
“Hi! Here for The Spanker. Where is it?”
He indicated to his left.
“So what’s the problem?”
“The problem is: Ikea sells crap.”
“Yeah, I hear that … often … only recently.”
She fascinated him. She had a no-nonsense quality about her, an openness, an intelligence in her eyes, beauty and wit. What the hell was she doing with a job like this? “This”, of course, was repairs.
The complaints continued.
“Ages ago, Ikea sold crap furniture that had to be assembled. Now Ikea sells crap machinery with a diagram included. Crap furniture, crap technology. Crap.”
“If The Spanker is still under warranty …”
“I purchased this piece of crap last week!” He interrupted her which is what she couldn’t tolerate. He produced the receipt and forced it into her hand.
She thought, Crap, huh. As in, I’d like to beat the crap out of you. Now, now, she reflected, the customer is always right. But I’d still like to beat the crap out of him.
“Yeah, I can see that from the receipt. As it clearly indicates.” He was aware of the sarcasm.
“So, the company will replace it, right?”
“Gotta take a look, first.”

Minutes later, she was finished with her analysis. “There’s nothing wrong with The Spanker. Just wasn’t assembled correctly.” She looked into his eyes. Make me an offer. Nothing is free, pal.
“Can you get it running?”
“Yeah, but it’ll cost you for the service. A faultily assembled product is not the company’s fault, capish?”
She had braced herself for another complaint. “Okay, just do it. But it better work! I’m a lab technician, not a handyman!” The last word was said with disdain. A wicked smile from her, he noticed. I like her. Don’t get a chance to use my bratty nature enough with females.
She thought simultaneously. It’ll work all right. And then I’ll unleash The Spanker on you. You piece of crap!
She had a beautiful smile, though devilish. And she was extremely personable. Additional assets. She enjoyed chatting while working.
“S-o-o-o, The Spanker! A best seller. Said that, way back, spanking was underground. Then technology made the disciplinarians … or spankers … obsolete. Shame.” The last word was intended to be personal. It was what he sorely … literally and figuratively … needed. Discipline.
He was studying her and not her skill as a mechanic. Impressive!! Front and behind! Hair a bit disheveled. Almost wind-blown. “Is it windy outside, or did you use the washer and drier on your hair?” He stupidly snickered. The inappropriate comment disoriented her, and the wrench slipped from her hand.
“Excuse me?”
“Just having fun. No, really. You should have your hair cut professionally. A Tinkerbell look. Without the bun. From Peter Pan, you know. To shape your face. And … darken the color.”
“Y–e–a–h. I’ll consider it.” I will definitely be present when he tries to use The Spanker … to beat the crap out of him.
“Okay, done,” she announced. “Hey, lookie here! A wooden horse! Tell you what, let’s get you on the horse and move The Spanker behind you.” He felt excited at the prospect that she would be a part of product testing.
“Now, I’m only agreeing because we want to see if The Spanker works properly before you leave, right?”
“Gotcha!”
She pictured her future. An image of where she would be in the next half hour and how he would help her achieve her goal. To beat the crap out of him!
“Wait! Full effect, right?” She slowly unloosened and removed his belt. She studied the belt and folded it in half. “Hmm!” She wiggled it back and forth. Not stiff enough … for him. She began to work on his pants and quickly lowered them, almost as if pulling a rug from under him. The speed of the motion disoriented him. His pants fell to the floor. “Step out of them!” she ordered and he obeyed. Good boy, she thought and smiled. “Climb aboard!” Another order.
He raised himself on the horse and maneuvered into a jockeying position. She studied him. “Hmm! Let’s give it the full effect, why don’t we!” She used all the straps affixed to the horse to secure his arms and his legs and his chest.
“Is this necessary?” he asked with doubt and the beginning of fear in his voice.
“Oh, ab–so–lutely!” She felt confident and, as importantly, in control.
She returned to The Spanker and pushed it to a position behind him. She found the box with specially designed attachments for The Spanker. And inserted one. “Hmm!” She started the machine and moved a lever. He screamed at the impact.
“Just as I suspected. The Spanker works, but it’s too intense for you … now. Guess you’ll have to gradually build to a certain tolerance level.” Had he read the entire manual, the instructional booklet would have informed him about tension adjustments. She formulated, and would now enact, Plan B.
“But I was expecting to use it today!!” Said like a disappointed child.
“Well, we might be able to accommodate you, after all.” You piece of crap!
She looked askance. “Hey, is that a lab coat?!” She retrieved it. “It fits!” She extracted her hand phone from her pocket and placed it at a distance. “For posterity. Who knows … someone may be curious about the 22nd century. And we have an artifact. Archived.”
She looked directly into the lens of the phone and smiled with an expression that said, Payback is a bitch, you piece of crap! She spoke authoritatively.
“What we have here is a piece of crap. Correction: two pieces of crap. Won’t show you what The Spanker can’t do. But I will demonstrate what our generation is missing. A good, old-fashioned hands-on experience. First, a warm-up. Something this machine is unable to do.”
She walked behind him. “No warm-up from The Spanker, right? Don’t think so. But a warm-up from this spanker.” With his rear end raised, she delivered a few hard, well-placed swats. “Good thing I play handball without gloves.” He groaned. She looked into the lens and smiled. “He agrees.”
His voice quaked. “I think I’ve had enough.”
“Aw! Poor baby doesn’t realize that I only started. Warm-up, remember? Warm-up to be continued … Now!” She lowered his underwear, baring flesh, and swung with rapidity in the same spot. All hits precisely placed. Hey, I’m a natural!
“Are we finished?” The tone in his elevated voice registered extreme pain.
“Yes, … with my hand … for now.” The words were carefully separated … for effect. “I think I’ll test all of the products that Ikea has conveniently provided for us. What have we here?”
The first implement seemed ineffective. No discernible response. She casually tossed it aside and chose another. The smacks ranged from intense to highly intense. His body began to spasm, even when restrained. That’s what I want to see!! “Be still!” she commanded as if addressing a child. Which is how she perceived him. She looked at the lens and shook her head sideways. “Newbie!”
She picked up a hard, wooden object. “Now, take a d–e–e–p breath. Inhale. Hold it!” The intensity and swiftness of the strokes froze his brain. He did remember hearing the word “exhale”. She cooed sweetly and softly, “T–h–a–t’s good.” Pinched his cheeks, studied the affected areas and smiled mischievously into the lens. He mumbled inaudibly. She playfully tapped his back twice with the pain-providing apparatus. “Are you swearing? No swearing allowed!” He had said, “Bitch is crazy!”

By the time she concluded the session, he was as red as a beet. And his face was flushed. She studied her handiwork with the attention of an artist admiring the finished canvas. Even coloration. Mission accomplished: beating the crap out of a piece of crap. Think I’ll quit my day job. Got Ikea’s list of dissatisfied, potential customers. A start. This work fits me like this lab coat. The lab coat! “Mind if I keep the lab coat?” No verbal complaint, but a moan. Or was it a groan? “Didn’t think so.”
After she unfastened the restraints, he almost slithered to the floor.
She extended her left hand, palm up, open. Left-handers were once perceived as sinister. “Two deposits, please. Tribute as a tribute.” He complied. Worth paying her … to depart.
With a spring in her step, she walked in the direction of the door, thanking him for his advice. A makeover would complement her change of profession.
“Oh, and I am, as of now, officially a spanker, not a repairperson.” She remembered the “handyman” and washer/drier cracks. “And, in your case, a disciplinarian, as well, brat. And … when we meet again, which you can count on, you can thank me.” She emphasized the words “count” and “thank” which perplexed him. But he would count and thank her upon command at future encounters.

That day, she and he were transformed. Both realized that technology had severe limitations. It lacked human contact, finesse and an understanding of body language and needs with or without words or sounds. And a wicked sense of humor. Their connection was mutually satisfying. Even though if asked now, he would probably spew expletives and complaints. But he would begin to miss her. That bond between two people had a price. It would again be referred to as “tribute”. A word she thought she coined. It was, however, … without her knowledge … in her ancestral blood.

Yes, Mexico. (Unrelated to Spanking)

 

Readers,

It’s that time of year again – the time of year when I begin to obsess about vacationing. To be fair, I do a pretty large amount of fantasizing about lying around on the beach year ’round, but it gets particularly bad beginning around the first of March. I know spring’s happening soon and that before long it’ll be warm enough to swim…and there I go. Googling ‘best beaches’, ‘cheap vacations in exotic locales’ and ‘how to vacation once a month’, I find a never-ending trail of photos which would make even the most hardcore couch surfer twitch.

There’s Maldives, just about universally agreed to be the most beautiful beach-lovers-hallelujah-place on the planet..

 

 

Then there’s Sardinia..

 

And the Bahamas, which, as reported by astronauts, has the bluest water anywhere on earth..

 

And then there’s Mexico.

Mexico, you say? Isn’t that where people get beheaded and kidnapped and narco’d and stuff? Well, yes, stuff like that does go on there, but it goes on here too, and we already live here.

The area of Mexico called the Yucatan peninsula (Quintana Roo, specifically) has some of the most beautiful beaches anywhere, and almost-shore-access to world class Barrier Reef snorkeling; the place is practically crawling with ancient Mayan ruins – you can’t toss an iguana and not hit something fantastically dark built by people thousands of years ago; and, if you’re at all a connoisseur, Riviera Maya beachside fish tacos are probably the best in the world. I’ve not mentioned yet that one may purchase Cuban cigars there and smoke them in full view of the general public, and one may also rest assured that polite public drunkenness is not only condoned but, in most places, lovingly cultivated.

The point is that I love (this part of) Mexico. While I can’t speak on the state of the entire country, I’ve never witnessed crime of any kind in my visits there, and I’ve also never stayed in one of those fancy-schmancy resorts that feed you sushi and keep you cloistered in with all the other skittish Ameri-Euros – that type of experience just doesn’t seem appealing to me.

The above-mentioned sushi resorts never give you the real local experience, because they’re not meant to. They’re meant to take advantage of the local attraction (in this case, the beach) and turn that into something which closely resembles your comfort zone, i.e. home. They feed you spaghetti and meatballs when the guys in the boats outside are pulling live lobster from the water, and you’re expected to change out of your flip-flops and shorts before they’ll even serve you said meatballs. Phooey! I want to eat local food, interact with actual Mexican people…actually BE in Mexico, for hells sake.

I’ve bisected the Yucatan in my travel there in the past, having seen both the north and southeast shores and toured the interior. I’ve done the big beach town, Cancun, and the island of Cozumel, and both were a bit boisterous but fun, and, although I wasn’t on any private beach, they were still super-touristy; this time, I’m going for something a bit more quiet and secluded. 

If you look hard enough (and believe me, I have looked and looked and looked and…) there are lots of little towns up and down the Mexican Caribbean, none of which require visitors to wear a plastic wristband or participate in ridiculous nightly pool games. One of these is my intended destination this year. There will be much sunblock and many brightly-colored frozen drinks (and don’t forget those Cubans), and probably a few too many renditions of Brown Eyed Girl, but I can’t wait.

Oh, and don’t worry about me. Not only will I be accompanied by my own personal ninja, but I’m pretty damn dangerous my ownself.

 

Daydreaming of paraíso,

Dana

 

 

Where do they find these girls??

 

Readers,

 

All us spanking video fans have our favorite spanking performers, top and bottom, who we like to watch regularly. We also enjoy the novelty of new models whom we’ve never seen before, especially if it’s their first time on film – gotta love those nervous, under-conditioned, camera shy newbies!

 

One site which seems to find a never-ending stream of female performers who appear to be cut from the archetypal ‘model’ mode is Firm Hand Spanking. From well-known performers to pretty faces (and bottoms) I’ve never seen before, Firm Hand seems to have cornered the market on the Girl Next Door spankees. To prove that I’m not making this up, here are just a few of their most recent models…

 

 

Belinda Lawson

 

 

Adrienne Black

 

 

Helen Baker

 

 

Stephanie Murray

 

 

Stacy Stockton

The Amazing Noodle! (Unrelated to spanking)

 

I have the most talented cat in the entire universe – but there’s no need in my telling you about it when I can simply show you. I present Noodle the Magnificent :

 

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As you can see, he is completely without fear – staring down the barrel of the bathtub faucet.

 

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Able to sleep comfortably in a box approximately 1/3 his size.

 

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And, most importantly, self-purifying!

 

Fine. Maybe none of that stuff’s terribly impressive, but he’s still just about the cutest cat I ever did see.

–  Dana 

‘Spank Trek 2099: A Future Oddity

Readers,

Here’s an alternate reality future twist with irony – you’ll enjoy ‘Spank Trek 2099″, another Future Spank entry.

– Dana

Spank Trek 2099: A Future Oddity

Harry Hudley was obsessed with time travel.He had been ever since he had seen the “Back to the Future” trilogy  when he was nine years old. He spent  the next twenty years visualizing, developing and finally creating his own time machine.Though, unemployed, largely self taught and living in his mother’s basement .He had, with unique perception, discovered one of the major secrets of the universe. Of course, He had attached the rather minimalist device to his car which, in his case, was a five year old Hyundai.

    Now ready and tuned into 2099, he pushes GO and holds on. There is a loud pop and a bright flash.His cat, Mr Sulu, nearly bounces off the ceiling and the Hyundai disappears in a spiraling swirl of smoke.

   It’s unlike anything he’s ever seen before.The entire village was made up of of conical, rectangular and round igloo shaped buidings all comprised of the same hard synthetic plastic material. There were no poles carrying power, telephone or cable wire but instead small radar-like antennae on top of each building. Very  peculiar, he thinks, as he watches first one then another and another lone male running down the street and each being closely pursued by a group of women attired in very short skirts,  short shorts, sleeveless tops and athletic shoes. Some of them seem to be carrying some type of object or device.

  OOOMMPHHH!!! OW! “Hey, what the…”Crossing in front of an alley Harry is charged, tackled and taken down  by a rather full bodied , raven haired girl of exceptional strength. She quickly places sticky tape over his mouth.”I saw him first! He’s mine! Help me get him over on the bench!”Completely overpowered by the boisterous bevy of beauties, Harry is instantly hauled over Daniela’s lap.Blonde MiMi pulls down his baggy shorts and purple boxers.

Anything but athletic with tousled black hair and rather narrow shoulders, a slim upper body leading down to somewhat wider hips and a full, fleshy bottom, he is easy putty in their strong hands. Daniela is euphoric.”OOH, Yeah!  This is the most seriously spankable bottom we’ve captured all day.”  “Hey,I want a piece of that cute butt!” “No way Sheena! Its one spanking per capture, and this sweet can is  all mine!”Daniela begins wailing into Harry’s upturned bottom with a rapid flurry of sharp smacks.” MiMi lifts up his tape.”Lets hear what he’s got to say.” EEEEEEOOOWWWW!!! She giggles and quickly replaces the tape.Sheena chimes in “Hey! You’re using your hand! Just like a little girl would.Something wrong with your electro paddle?”Harry’s bottom quivers like marmalade from Daniela’s machine like spanks.She grins in ecstasy ” Sometimes the old fashioned ways are best!”

   Finally relenting, Daniela releases him.As Harry bends low to pull up his shorts, Sheena’s temptation is too great.She whacks him twice, in quick succession with her electro paddle set to the “sheer agony” setting.EEEEEYYYYAGGGOOHH!!! Stung by a hundred angry bees on each cheek,almost simultaneously. Harry, as if shot from a cannon, shoots across the street, like a scalded cat, his shorts at half mast.All the girls except an angry Daniela, fall about laughing.

   Two husky Amazonian proportioned female patrol officers, helmeted and  aboard sleek bullet shaped road bikes, observe Harry cross the middle of the road. Tanya nods and smiles at her partner, Carly. “Fresh meat, Carly!  A barebutt jaywalker!”  “Lets go”!”

  The two patrol officers pull up alongside Harry, just as he manages to pull up his shorts.”What have we got here, public indecency and Oh, my! Jaywalking!” Tanya snaps on plastic cuffs and Carly positions him over the seat of the strutted bullet bike.MMMPPHHH!!! He struggles to speak but his mouth is still sealed with tape.

“That’s four lashes of the enforcement strap for each offense.Total of eight and lucky for you we haven’t been issued the new plasma canes yet.Eight strokes with one of those would have you howling like a banshee and trying to jump over the moon!”MMMPPHHH!!!! “Should we let ‘im talk? ” Nahhh! I just want to wail into that cute fat butt, of his.” The big leather jacketed policewomen take positions each side of Harry and, in tandem,  began flailing,with a wilful zeal, into his already crimson red bottom with their heavy black doubled over leather straps.The tape became loose enough, now, that he somehow managed to spew it out. “You people are crazzzeee!!!  AArrrghhhowwohhh!! Tanya is grinning.” Well, that was fun!He is a lively one, isn’t he!” Carly releases him and they both go off in pursuit of two running males on the next street.

  Harry quickly pulls on his shorts and rubs his sore swollen bottom. He had often fantasized about being spanked by a mean but sexy teacher or a matronly conservative female attorney, or even to be captured and chastised by a rogue group of hot sorority girls, but this was insane!
What kind of world did he land in?

  Before he could give the situation any further thought he notices sunlight reflecting off chrome.It was his Hyundai, where it had rematerialized, in the park across the street.He wanted to take something to prove where he had been but nothing, at hand, was removable. A loud pop on his right causes him to turn around.There is a bursting flash of light which seems to spread out and then dissolve, almost instantly. Then another, higher up.Then burning agony! As if molten candle wax had been splashed across his inflamed butt cheeks! It was Sheena! Leading a wild eyed group of girls!She was firing some kind of plasma energy gun at him and with deadly accuracy! OOOWWWWOOOO!!!! Another hit! And now his shorts were smoking! Bolting toward the park he sees Daniela closing in quickly with another group of wild spanking vixens! With an agility born of wild desperation he takes a flying leap over several bushes and through the open  window of the Hyundai.He quickly adjusts the controls and slams the GO button, flashing out and disappearing in spiraling smoke just as Daniela and her friends arrive.

   Harry never got to read the large sign, hovering just above,on the  opposite side of his car.It reads: SECOND ANNUAL SPACEWAYS CITY SPANKATORIUM DAY ANY MALE CAUGHT ON THE STREETS BETWEEN THE HOURS OF TWELVE NOON AND TWELVE MIDNIGHT IS FAIR GAME  FOR THE LADIES! ALL DISCIPLINARY IMPLEMENTS PERMITTED.HARDCORE PLAYERS ESPECIALLY ENJOYED!

Las Vegas Anecdote (Unrelated to Spanking)

 

Celebrity sightings are nothing unusual in Las Vegas, especially in the big hotels and clubs on the strip. But get a couple miles off the strip and things get relatively normal, fast. Soccer moms, shift workers, and lots of really old luxury cars are the norm in my neighborhood, and I like it that way…seeing fancy millionaires dressed down and drunk doesn’t really appeal.

So imagine my surprise when I ran into a real, live celebrity (read: someone you’ve heard of and who has more money than you, although you’re not sure why either of those things are so) at my neighborhood Whole Foods!

Okay, I didn’t actually run into him…more like almost ran over. With my cart. Luckily, he’s a tall and healthy specimen who would’ve likely not only survived the impact but done so without displacing a single golden lock.

That’s right, folks.

I’m talking about Fabio.

Was he shopping for yummy vegan, muscle-toning munchies?  Nope.

Cruising the organic produce section for a new, fitness model girlfriennd? Wrong again.

Oh wait, I know! He was there to meet for lunch with a producer and wanted to seem ‘down to earth’. That’s it, right?  Yeah, no.

Fabio was at the Whole Foods store hawking his new line of something. Honestly, I can’t tell you what it was because his jeans were so excruciatingly tight that everything within a six foot radius became blurry. Also, cowboy boots. Cowboy boots with supertight skinny jeans. Can I just tell you that this is not a good look on anyone? (There’s a reason you don’t see this image on the cover of any Harlequin romance novels.)

Anyway, the ladies were all aflutter and I overheard one well-dressed woman say, succinctly, “Oh god. Oh god. Ohgod ohgod ohgod.”

Viva Las Vegas….and D list celebrities.

–  Dana

Fair Warning

 

(PS. If you’re a member of one of these sites, please have the decency to NOT participate in illegally sharing my content. I give away dozens of free vids, sessions, toys, and all manner of crap..if you’re such a fan, why steal from me?

I don’t get it…)

 

This isn’t fairytale spankingland, nor is it the place where there are no consequences for one’s actions. It may be the internet, but it’s also still the Real World.

Sharing/downloading/watching content which I’ve produced without my express consent is against the law, as we all well know…right?

There are several places on the internet where users regularly trade in illegally shared material, and I know about all of them. I also know who the admins are for these sites, and the offending users. You see, IPs are stored when you visit any site, and legal representatives have rightful access to that information. So you’re not REALLY invisible – are you?

Nope.

Remember that.

 

–  Dana

 

 

‘Wise Choices?’ : Fun Future Spank entry

Here’s another fun, futuristic entry to the Future Spank contest – ‘Wise Choices?’. Enjoy!

– Dana

Wise Choices?

“Make wise choices,” was the last thing my mom said before she stepped into the flying car with my dad. They were going to a luxury resort on Mars, and I had reluctantly agreed to come home from the University of Mars to watch the house over my spring break. Being at home was the last thing I wanted to do, but since I knew my parents would be gone the entire week, I had agreed to do it.
“Yeah, right!” was what I wanted to say. Instead I just looked at her and said “yes, Mom. I will.”
We lived in a sprawling city on the moon, filled with an active nightlife and amazing clubs. I had no intention of just staying home this week!
The door closed behind her, and not even two seconds later, the car flew out of site. I sighed with relief. I loved my parents, really I did, but we’d had a turbulent relationship for years, and I didn’t spend any more time at home than I had to.
I ran inside to my room and changed into my short silver metallic skirt and a sparkly black tank top. I had on knee high black boots to complete my outfit. I looked at my reflection in the mirror and applied a coat of red lipstick.
“That will do nicely.” I grabbed my purse and walked from our complex to the teleport center. I selected Club Nox from the menu, and waited. A second later a rocket transporter appeared. I stepped inside and sat down. Less than a minute later I arrived at the teleport center outside of Club Nox, the hottest night club on the moon. There were touch screen food and drink menus, flashing and color-changing lights, and there was always amazing music.
“Becca!” my best friend Jenny screamed as I walked over. She threw her arms around me. I threw my arms around her and hugged her back. “How’s school?”
“Ugh! It’s hard. I’m behind on my reading and got a B- on my last paper for Intergalaxy Communication,” I sighed. “I just need to blow off some steam this week.”
“Aw, I’m sorry Becca. Is everything okay? It’s not like you to be behind or struggling in classes. You love that stuff!”
“I’m fine,” I lied. “I really don’t want to talk about school right now, Jenny. I just want to have a drink and get out on the dance floor.” Truth be told, everything wasn’t okay. I was struggling in school and had been for awhile. I had turned in a few late assignments, was behind on my reading, and wasn’t doing as well as I normally did on tests. I had lost my usual motivation and drive to succeed, and really didn’t know what to do about it.
“Okay,” Jenny said quietly. “Well, you know I’m around if you want to talk.”
“I know. Thanks, Jenny.”
We walked over to the bar and ordered Electric Cosmopolitans from the menu. My parents didn’t approve of my drinking, but I was old enough and didn’t care what they thought. Besides, they weren’t home. How would they even know?
“Becca!” My friend Jack said walking over to Jenny and I. “Don’t you look like a walking felony! I ought to pull you over my knee and spank you for that short skirt,” he said swatting my bottom with a glint in his eyes.
“That could be fun,” I said with a smile. I hadn’t been spanked in years and was only spanked by Nanny, the robot that took care of my older siblings and me, never by my parents. Maybe that’s why our relationship was so turbulent. I was loved, disciplined, and cared for by a robot more than I was by my parents. I was curious as to what a human hand felt like and what the closeness of that experience might be like.
“Maybe later,” Jack said. “Let’s dance!”
“Okay.” I quickly finished my Cosmo and followed Jack onto the dance floor. I had liked him since we were in high school, and we often spent time together when I was home during school breaks.
Several hours and one more drink later, I knew I should get home. I didn’t have a curfew, as I was way too old for one and my parents weren’t even home to care, but I knew I shouldn’t stay out as late as I often did.
I gave Jenny a hug, and then Jack pulled me close to him and hugged me, followed by a simple, sweet kiss. It was the first time we had kissed and I was on cloud 9.
“Call me when you wake up,” he said walking me to the teleport center.
“Or what?”
“Or I’ll spank you!” he said with a wink and quick, hard swat.
I laughed. “Good night, Jack,” I said as the rocket transporter appeared.
“Good night, Becca,” he said, kissing me again.
I smiled and stepped inside the rocket transporter. I sat down, and less than a minute later I was at the teleport center outside of our complex. I walked slowly towards our house. “What an amazing night!” I thought, smiling again.
As I approached my house, I stopped. I noticed a few lights were on. “I thought I turned everything off…” I said to no one in particular. I hesitated and placed my finger on the finger scanner which unlocked the front door. “Hello?” I called out and hesitantly stepped inside. “Is anyone here?” The door closed behind me automatically, and I suddenly felt trapped.
Only silence greeted me. Then I heard a familiar humming sound that I hadn’t heard in seven or eight years. I froze, my heart pounding in my chest, and debated running.
“Miss Rebecca, where on earth have you been, and what are you wearing?! That skirt is entirely too short for a twenty one year old young lady!”
I remained frozen by the door as Nanny moved close to me. I took a deep breath and implored myself to start talking. “I really have nothing to be afraid of! I’m an adult, and did nothing wrong!” I told myself.
“Nanny! What are you doing here? My parents retired you years ago,” was all I could say.
“Yes, when you became too old to need me anymore. Your mother thought you might need some looking after this week, and it appears she was right. Do you have any idea what time it is?”
“It’s one thirty,” I said quietly. “I’m an adult and don’t have a curfew anymore!” I said with more confidence.
“On the contrary, Miss Becca, when your parents programmed me, your curfew was 12:30, so you are an hour late, missy! What happens when you break the rules?”
I couldn’t believe what was happening! When my parents created Nanny’s program, they had created it so any rule violation resulted in a spanking. Bad language further resulted in a mouth soaping. It didn’t matter that I was an adult! I was still subject to the rules that were in place as if I were a child!
“Miss Becca,” Nanny said, gently raising my chin so I would look at her, “what happens when you break the rules?”
“I get spanked,” I said quietly. “This isn’t fair! I’m an adult!”
“I know,” she said gently. “But even adults need a spanking sometimes.” She took me by the arm and guided me to the couch in the living room. I was indignant, but knew from experience that fighting back was useless. Once Nanny’s program recognized that a spanking was earned, a spanking would be given. Any fighting or resisting on my part would only make things worse. “You didn’t answer my question, Miss Becca. Where were you tonight?”
“I went to Club Nox with some of my friends.”
“You’ve been drinking,” Nanny said matter-of-factly.
“Yes. I had a couple Cosmos. I’m old enough, and it’s perfectly legal for me to drink.”
“Yes, but your parents don’t approve.”
“No…” I started. “Please tell me you’re not going to spank me for that!” I was begging now. “It’s not illegal for me to drink. It’s not fair to spank me for that!”
“We’ll see,” Nanny said slowly. “This was a grey area for your parents and there is no programmed punishment for drinking once you’re old enough, only that they don’t like it when you drink.”
I didn’t say anything. Nanny had always been more than fair when it came to punishing me. Nanny took me by the arm and guided me over her lap. I took a deep breath as she slowly began to spank me over my skirt. My skirt barely covered my bottom and really didn’t offer much protection.
Nanny might be a robot, but she looked and acted like a human. She was small, petite, and about five and a half feet tall, only a little taller then I was. She had short, dark hair and piercing blue eyes. I had learned long ago not to underestimate her size though. She had the ability to hold me fast, making any escape an impossibility, and would deliver a harsh spanking when it was warranted.
“This isn’t so bad,” I thought. I knew I would be crying hard long before my punishment was over though. The swats were slow and medium hard to begin with. I felt myself actually relax as I accepted my fate. Even though I was in for much worse, it was almost a relief to be held accountable for something again. I realized that I actually craved the physical discipline that Nanny had so adeptly provided me as I grew up.
“Nanny?” I said slowly.
“Yes, Miss Becca?” she said continuing to spank me as she talked.
I took a deep breath. Even though I knew I would be punished, I knew I needed to tell her about school. I knew the discipline would help me get back on track.
“I’ve been struggling with school lately. I’ve turned in a few late assignments, I’m behind on my reading, and I’m not doing as well as I normally do on tests. I’m not meeting my own expectations.” Nanny didn’t say anything, but flipped up my skirt and delivered several dozen hard and fast swats. I started squirming and cried out in pain. She paused after a few minutes, then started spanking me slow but hard again. “I feel lost, overwhelmed, and am floundering,” I said once I caught my breath again. “I don’t have any motivation, or my usual drive to succeed.”
“Would I be correct in saying that you’re not taking good care of yourself right now? Staying out late, not getting enough sleep, not eating as well as you should, and not exercising enough?”
“Yes, Nanny,” I said quietly.
“You are out of control right now, Miss Becca,” Nanny said rubbing my bottom. “You are wearing clothing that is not becoming of a young lady, drinking, not staying ahead in your classes, and not taking care of yourself in general. Is that correct?”
“Yes, Nanny,” I said quietly.
“I am really going to spank you hard tonight, Rebecca! You clearly need it! You cannot ignore and stop taking care of yourself. That ends tonight!”
“Yes ma’am.” I knew she was right. I truly needed the physical discipline, and always felt better after it was over. “You’re absolutely right. I need the discipline and accountability, and my parents never provided me that, even though there were many times after they retired you that I deserved and needed to be spanked. Why is it that you care about me more than they do? Why am I not worth it to them?” I started crying.
“You are worth it, Becca, and your parents do love you. Your mother re-activated me because she recognized that something was wrong with you and that you needed someone to talk to. Rather than bottle up your emotions, you need to talk to your parents. Holding in your feelings is not healthy and it is hurting you. I won’t tolerate that, Miss Becca!”
“Yes, Nanny.”
Nanny put her hand in the waistband of my panties and slowly pulled them down. I resisted the urge to put my hand back. I knew I needed this spanking, as bad as it was going to be. I instinctively trusted Nanny to spank me as much as I needed and to give me what I deserved.
Without saying a word, she began spanking me hard and fast. I had forgotten how much her “hand” hurt! Within a minute I found myself squirming as the stinging in my bottom built rapidly.
“Hold still, Becca!” Nanny admonished me.
“I’m trying!”
I grabbed onto the seat cushion and held on tight. I buried my head in the cushions as the tears began to fall. I took slow deep breaths, and tried to stay still. I didn’t want to have my arms or legs pinned as Nanny had done so many times before. I already felt helpless as it was. I continued to cry softly and yelped when she delivered several stinging swats to the sit spot, the point where the lower curve of my bottom meets the top of my thighs. I knew I would be feeling this spanking for days every time I sat down, stood up, or pulled my pants on.
By the time Nanny finally paused, my bottom was on fire. “Miss Becca, that skirt of yours is entirely too short and inappropriate for a young woman to be wearing.”
“Nanny, you’ve been retired for years. It’s the fashion and everyone’s wearing them now!”
“You won’t be, by the time I’m through with you, young lady! Your skirts will go past your hands at the very least, and I would prefer if they were longer. Is that understood?”
I didn’t say anything, which was probably the worst thing I could have done in retrospect. I was an adult and there was no way I would let Nanny decide my wardrobe choices! Nanny somehow knew what I was thinking, and began spanking my thighs. Her hand moved quickly down my right thigh then back up again, focusing several stinging swats on the sit spot before moving over to my left thigh. I involuntarily yelped, squirmed, and started crying all over again. My resistance quickly broke down. Once Nanny had thoroughly spanked my left thigh and delivered several more stinging blows to my sit spot, she paused and rested her hand on my back.
“How long will your skirts be, young lady?”
“Past my hands,” I choked out. “Well, at least when I’m at home!” I thought.
“That is correct. And don’t think you can get away with wearing short skirts at school, Miss Rebecca. I’ve communicated with a friend of mine who works at the University of Mars. She will be watching you from now on, and will hold you accountable for your wardrobe choices, as well as for your school work.”
My mouth dropped open. I couldn’t believe what was happening.
“What? Who’s your friend? You’re a robot…” was all I could say.
“Yes, and even robots have friends and the ability to communicate with each other over a charge they have in common, missy!” she said with a quick, hard swat. I yelped, and nearly jumped a foot.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that way.”
“It’s okay, Becca. My friend is Miss Jones, your Intergalaxy Communication professor.”
“I should have known. You are so much alike!”
“I’ve heard that before. She is concerned about you, and is more than willing to keep an eye on you and hold you accountable.”
I nodded. “I think that would help me stay on track.”
“Yes it will. You’re a bright girl, but need a little guidance and direction.”
“Yes, Nanny.”
“Now, speaking of school. You received a B- on your last Intergalaxy Communication paper, is that correct?”
“Yes ma’am.” I was shocked that she knew things I hadn’t told her after being in storage for seven or eight years, and had clearly communicated with my university professors.
“Was it your best work?”
“No…” I said quietly.
“How do you propose we address this?”
I knew what she wanted me to say. “With the brush,” I said quietly.
“Good, I think so too.” I heard the compartment on her right arm open and watched out of the corner of my eye as the dreaded brush appeared. I braced myself as Nanny tightened her grip around my waist. Nanny had given my bottom enough time to recover so even a medium swat was excruciating. She didn’t need to spank me with all of her strength to get her point across. She didn’t hold back though, and delivered dozens of stinging swats in rapid succession. I squirmed and tried to get away, but her left hand held me tightly against her. The tears were flowing freely and I wasn’t sure how much more I could take. My breathing became rapid and shallow, and I was close to hyperventilating when Nanny suddenly stopped. It felt like she had spanked me forever, but in reality it had only been about five minutes, maybe less.
“Breathe, Becca,” she said, gently rubbing my bottom and back. I forced myself to take slow deep breaths and felt myself calm down. “It’s only a spanking. We’re almost done.” I nodded and continued to breathe deeply. “I have the feeling you won’t be falling behind in school any time soon.”
“No ma’am.”
“Becca, there is nothing wrong with a B- if you’ve done your best on your assignment, essay or test. If you haven’t studied or put in the time you should, that’s unacceptable.”
“Yes ma’am.”
“Miss Jones is going to check in with you. If you fall behind, or do anything less than your best in any class, she will spank you. Oh, and she can easily tell when you’re lying, just like I can.”
“Yes ma’am,” I said again.
“Now, we still have the matter of you breaking curfew to resolve.”
“Nanny, please. I’ve been punished enough,” I begged.
“I think I’ll be the judge of that, Miss Rebecca. You were an hour late. Do you think you’ve been punished adequately for that?”
The way Nanny phrased the question, I instinctively knew what the answer she expected was. I couldn’t bring myself to admit that I hadn’t been punished enough for breaking curfew and being an hour late yet.
“I’m an adult and haven’t had a curfew in years!” I complained, instead of answering the question. “It’s not fair to spank me for violating a rule I didn’t even know was in place!” It was a logical argument, though I knew my whinny voice wasn’t helping my case.
“That may be, but how many times did you break curfew in high school where you weren’t spanked?”
Ugh! She had me trapped and I knew it. I had absolutely no way to win this argument.
“Too many times to count,” I admitted reluctantly.
“Would you rather be spanked for all those infractions or just for being an hour late tonight?”
“Being an hour late,” I said quietly. I knew the punishment for being an hour late would be way more tolerable than if she calculated how many times I had legitimately broken curfew and how late I had been those times, but hadn’t been punished.
“Good choice. And you broke curfew 14 times and were a total of 4 hours late, by the way.”
“How do you know that?!”
“I can see on the house log when you scanned your finger to enter the house.”
“Oh…” was the only thing I could say. Ugh! Robots were too smart sometimes!
“Instead of punishing you for that, I’m only going to punish you for being an hour late tonight. Is that right?”
“Yes ma’am,” I said quietly.
“Alright then.” I heard the compartment on her right arm open again and watched out of the corner of my eye as the brush went away and the belt came out. She folded it in half so she could administer it with me still held firmly in place over her lap. “You will receive one stroke of the belt for every minute you were late.”
“Yes ma’am,” I said quietly. I hated the belt, but was grateful she hadn’t picked a paddle.
Nanny re-adjusted me and tightened her grip around my waist. I knew she would pin my arms and legs if I interfered with my punishment. I took a deep breath as the first stinging hit landed square on my bottom. “Owww!” I cried out. My bottom was already very sore, and even a medium hard slap of the belt was excruciating. “Breathe, Becca. We still have a ways to go.”
I took slow, deep breaths, and tried to keep count of the strokes. It made it a little easier to cope with the pain. It wasn’t long before I was crying again. The first 20 strokes were paced about 5 seconds apart. She picked up the tempo after that, and I stopped counting after 25 strokes. I was really crying, and prayed that every stroke was the last. A few minutes later it was over, and I was shaking. Nanny gently rubbed my bottom and my back as I calmed down.
“Becca, I may be a robot, but I love you and care about you, and I’m not going to let you give up on yourself or stop taking care of yourself. You are worth it. You have to believe that!” she said soothingly.
“Yes, Nanny.”
Nanny gently pulled up my underwear and patted my bottom. Even that love tap was excruciating and I almost started crying again. Nanny helped me up and guided me towards my room. She pulled out my pajamas. I went to the bathroom and changed. I quickly looked at my bottom in the mirror. It was dark red and peppered with bruises and welts from the brush and belt. It was one of the worst spankings I had ever had, but I felt so much better than I had before the spanking. I got a bunch of lotion and rubbed it into my well spanked bottom. I quickly washed my face and walked to my bedroom. Nanny had turned off my light and pulled back the covers. I handed her my clothes and gave her a long hug before climbing into bed. I winced as my bottom touched the mattress and quickly rolled over onto my stomach, but not before noticing the smile that crossed Nanny’s face. She laughed as she placed my clothes in the laundry hamper where they vanished in an instant. They would be returned to my closet by the time the sun was up. I had no intention of wearing my short silver skirt anytime soon though! Nanny pulled up the covers and sat on my bed, rubbing my back and stroking my hair as she had done many times before. I breathed a contented sigh of relief.
“How do you feel, Becca?”
“Better than I have in a long time. I feel safe. I feel as though a weight has been lifted from my shoulders…Thank you, Nanny. I really needed to be spanked and held accountable for my actions.”
“You’re welcome, Becca…but don’t think for even a minute that you won’t be paddled before the week is over!”
“Stop reading my mind!” I said laughing.
“Oh, Becca. I can’t read minds. I can just read your body language.”
I rolled my eyes. “Would you come back to school with me?” I asked after a minute. “You could visit Miss Jones…and I would like having you around again.”
“I’d like that, Becca. I’d like that very much.” Nanny continued to rub my back and stroked my hair until I fell asleep. I slept more soundly than I had in a long time, and knew that everything was going to be okay. I felt confident in myself again, and was happy with how tonight had turned out, even if it was at the expense of my being able to sit comfortably for a few days!

The Miscreants and the Top-Bots : Future Spank story

The Future Spank contest was a surprise to me, as I didn’t think we’d have nearly as many well-written entries. Here’s another, titled “The Miscreants and the Top-Bots”.
– Dana
The Miscreants & the Top-Bots (Spanking at Maximum Efficiency)

The year is indiscriminate.  There is no measure to keep up with time. Not for the Miscreants who must be kept to a strict training regime, regardless of whether the sun or moon is shining.  For them, the future has outgrown a reason to keep track of the days.  At least here, on Planet Degroot, where the greatest concern is re-educating criminals that have offended against Nature: The Earth and their fellow citizens.  These offenders come to Planet Degroot, in groups at a time, to learn how to re-inhabit and contribute to the wellbeing of Plant Earth while transitioning from inoperable to responsible human beings that could better humanity after being programmed with a bit of tough love and strict conditioning.
The problem with Earth Defilers suggests an underlying disregard in general that extends to people, animals and the planet at large. A pattern emerging amongst the Miscreants at Planet Degroot was their lack of respect, their non-interest in keeping Earth inhabitable, their spoiled rotten natures that saw no consequences for undesirable behaviors.  Eons after the traditional 50’s era on Earth, emerging generations became less and less disciplined. Parental figures reared offspring to develop an absurd sense of entitlement, which then morphed into greater absurdity with the next generation of offspring.
With Generation Delta, there was an influx of havoc: underage drinking and use of drugs, piloting vehicles while intoxicated, dumping waste from high efficiency flying scooters while jetting to work or school, loitering on privately owned floating properties, destroying natural habitats to build steel fortresses equipped with technology so advanced one could teleport between floors by standing in a narrow tube in one room, pressing a button, and emerging in another narrow tube in a different room.  Technology had become the Ruling Force for the Miscreants, rendering them lazy and useless.
Of course technology serves its greater purpose, insuring a riot would ensue were any measures taken to place severe restrictions on it.  One President had tried by ordering the judges impose harsh sanctions for abusing the Earth and behaving recklessly.  Across all states there was the implementation of curfews, fines and technological restrictions that caused a communal withdrawal and heavy backlash.
A popular finger app reserved solely for Congressional members voted the President be impeached for Treason against Technology.  One of the traditions that remained stable throughout the centuries was the government, but President Grasso’s imminent removal from office signaled that even this was coming to an end.
The next President, Tracie D’Vanzio, had to make some quick decisions.  She was voted into office mostly because she agreed to release the overpopulated jails that were overflowing with what the former President called Miscreants, those who committed misdemeanor crimes without being pardoned or paroled, no matter how minor the offense.  She was hoping to deter bad behavior by punishing even small instances of it, but her plan was not successful. The situation was dire.
The Heads of State originally agreed the situation needed to be brought under control, but they quickly discarded the idea when the President’s interference with state regulations bought an unprecedented chaos to their jurisdictions.  Computer engineers were working day and night to develop an app that would interest people in their own salvation. As it turns out, it would take more than an app for that.
Offenders let off with a figurative slap on the wrist became repeat offenders.  Jail proved to have no effect, yet judges had no alternatives. The new President Andrea D’Vanzio jumped on the bandwagon to join the program to keep offenders out of jail by rehabilitating them with discipline and corporal punishment; on a nearby planet where democracy was not an option.
Other countries had instituted this practice for decades now with a moderately high success rate.  The detainees on Planet Degroot were to be subjected to a reasonable amount of technological withdrawal to reprogram their brains with values that died centuries ago.  They were subjected to educational courses, schooled in manners and respect, taught how to engage each other and most importantly: how to return to their Homelands as better people; a condition of their release being to share their knowledge both formally and informally with other humans. Many became teachers and did what they could to help their students balance the past with the future for the betterment of themselves, their children and future children, and the Earth itself.
Ava McIntire was officially the first detainee released from an overcrowded prison and sent on a shuttle to Planet Degroot.  She was sentenced to 1 year (the minimum) for loitering, littering and acquiring her 2nd FWI (Flying While Intoxicated).  Ava was a woman in her mid-20’s that did not mature into a responsible adult. She acted indifferently while stationed against the wall of the Graviton, a circular shuttle used to transport the Miscreants.  Ava was one of 60; each inmate having his or her own section of wall that they became secured to once the shuttle was in flight. To ensure they could not create any greater mischief, they were glued to the walls by gravity for the 2 hours it took to reach Planet Degroot.
When the prisoners arrived at their destinations, they were surprised to find this new Planet resembling Planet Earth Centuries ago; it was like walking into a history book or an old film. This was the anti-future.  The atmosphere was meant to mimic that of the 1950’s.  Only stray blue-silver and lavendar-chrome robots, meant to keep the Miscreants at bay, were any indication that this was the present time.
Gorgeous male and female bots looked like human beings that had been dipped in silver or chrome and polished to perfection, their beautifully toned muscles prepared to dole out discipline if necessary.  However, it was generally preferred that discipline be more traditional and carried out by people that did not look like super-heroes.  But these superhero-like bot disciplinarians served their purposes.
However, they also had to answer to a higher authority; their robotic bottoms not spared a good thrashing were it deemed necessary.  To any onlooker it would appear that a layer of steel protected them for any corporal discipline. This was not the case. These bots that kept the highest order were graduates of the program that remained on Planet Degroot to maintain order. They were programmed with a strong shell exterior whose only weakness was a less protective coating over the hind quarters in case they were in need of a humble reminder.
There were no jails or prisons on Planet DeGroot.  Only corners with naughty Miscreants sticking their faces to the wall, red plush bottoms on display with boxers or panties around quivering knees. Other forms of punishment included kneeling on rice, writing lines and essays, detention and of course, spanking and all its variants.
The one who reigned over Planet DeGroot went by the name of Dana Kane.  Those who worked under her were known as Top-Bots and were responsible for doling out the discipline to wayward Miscreants. Although eventually most of the naughty ones were straightened out, and even able to set an example for those that came after them, most of the newbies had a hard time adjusting.
One of the biggest problems at Planet DeGroot was the new Miscreants banding together and stealing the corporal punishment instruments: burying them, burning them, hiding them.  Ms. Kane felt that it would be unauthentic to have 24/7 surveillance monitoring these scoundrels. With the help of her futuristic robot friends, she was able to devise an experiment by having a team work to create bionic arms for the Disciplinarian’s.  Although everyone was still essentially human with some minor technological tweaks (and armor), Ms. Kane named her entourage the “Top-Bots” due to this experimental procedure.
The arms fashioned for the Top-Bots were a revolutionary spanking idea.  The arm and hand looked ordinary, but a surgical procedure implanted a device within the limb, palm and fingers that eradicated the need for implements.  A lot of Earth trees were spared now that they needn’t be used as canes, paddles or switches. The machine was implanted beneath the skin and had discrete buttons that could be switched on and off by touching the underside of the wrist, all the way up to the forearm.
These buttons measured the intensity of the force used to administer a spanking.  It also assured that there was no bias.  Every offense of the same nature was punished with a calculated formula that was imputed into each machine.  This levelled out the playing field when some of the offenders complained that they were being punished more severely for the same offense as someone else because their Disciplinarian was larger or stronger, or because they had physical limitations that were not being considered.
The machine eliminated this problem as the machines were programmed in equal proportions. Every swat to every offender, doled out by every Top would be exactly the same in intensity across the board.  Of course the calculations would factor in the height, weight, physical makeup and individual frailties of the offending party. In the end it would equal out.  Any wayward complaints were now just pointblank lies that were misdemeanor offenses on Planet Degroot, and of course worthy of punishment.
The only original concern regarding the Robotic Hand was that it ran on batteries and while still in the experimental phases, it was unclear if they would run out.  Because the batteries could not be easily replaced without the Top-Bots having to undergo another procedure, the government programs responsible for sending these Miscreants to Planet DeGroot for rehabilitation had to incur the almost exorbitant expense of reliable power sources.
It was decided that the Robotic Hand would be powered with Duracell Quantum Infinity, the Duracell line of batteries having evolved well into the future.  This brand was solar powered, and also could acquire a charge from dimmer light sources, including the soft illumination from the moon or even your average light tablet or more sophisticated caning saber (which was reserved for the most grave offenses and guarded by a Bot whose only job it was to make sure nobody but the Top-Bots got anywhere near the punishment tool).  This light-powered formula guaranteed the batteries would not run out of juice. Duracell Quantum Infinity was used for all Robotic Hands as the threat of a malfunction could compromise an entire punishment operation which might inspire mockery and a Miscreant rebellion.  Ms. Kane had all the possibilities worked out as she developed the concept.
Dana Kane was a strict Disciplinarian who would not allow her Miscreants to run amok.  She took great pride in her system, which was bringing back the intimacy of tradition so that these offenders could learn that life without undeserved luxury and technology seeping out of their pores was a possible and enlightening endeavor.  She was the June Cleaver with a caning saber, dripping with that 50’s sitcom sweetness and wit… but with a twist, she was a woman completely undeterred to bare a naughty bottom and swiftly administer this oxymoronic justice that combined the past with the present, and technically also the future.
Planet DeGroot was Ms. Kane’s Pride.  She was granted permission from the Earth authorities to name her Planet once she took over.  Her predecessor (although successful) was not living up to his expectations and was asked to retire early. She chose DeGroot after the beautiful, narrow evergreen that was easy to trim to one’s desire.  Growing in rows of harmony on earth, she did not think it a bad idea to mimic the concept to suit her purposes.  Each Miscreant was like one of these precious evergreens, needing a certain amount of attention to prune them where they would then grow side by side in synchronization without encroaching on each other’s space.  They were trained to grow tall rather than wide, to work together.  With tender guidance, true beauty was possible.
Ava DeGroot was nothing like an evergreen, if anything she was a weed. Popping up everywhere she didn’t belong. Littering. Loitering. Wrecking things. Abusing alcohol. Strangling her relationships. Impossible to tame. Ms. Kane greeted her at the door of the shuttle, as she did all the new Miscreants. She generally just shook their hands and introduced herself as she gave them the once over, instinct alerting her to who was going to be trouble. Her internal radar went off as Ava passed her.
“Excuse me, young lady,” Ms. Kane pulled her over to the side, “I’m going to need to take whatever it is that is in your hand there.”
Ava looked down.  “You can’t take this.  It’s my i-Pod Touch from the 21st century.  It’s vintage.  I need to listen to Miley Cyrus; she’s a classic. Also, I’m a die-hard frozen-in-time Belieber. Anyway, this was handed down to me from generations. I’m kinda a traditionalist.” Ava licked her lips nonchalantly, a habit she had when she was annoyed.
Ms. Kane eyed her suspiciously, but not offensively. She was familiar with her type. “You can keep it for now,” she said. “And please tone down that shirt a few notches.”
Ava huffed, agitated. She pressed the button on her shirt so that its glowing neon colors came to a halt and became a shade of distilled pink.
Ms. Kane directed everyone to the large meeting hall in 2 hours from their time of arrival, after a light meal was to be served to the Miscreants.  At the meeting hall, Ms. Kane was dressed in a polka dot shirt, a long skirt that fell to her ankles and pumps that made her appear taller. For such a proper person, it was difficult for her to look out at the audience before her with its inappropriate attire.  The newbies were supposed to have gotten uniforms before getting on the shuttle, but that tradition had been eradicated once the Miscreants began destroying their clothing before they arrived at Planet DeGroot.
Because corporal punishment could not commence immediately due to the large volume of detainees that would need immediate disciplining, which the Miscreants well knew, the uniforms were now to be given the day of arrivals and expected to be worn the next morning.  Ms. Kane explained all of the behaviors that were cause for punishment, of which there were many.  She went over the specific consequences, the schedule, the training programs, the introduction of the staff and of course, the Robotic Hand.
Ms. Kane didn’t presume to be taken seriously at this stage of the game.  She preferred it this way.  It was more enjoyable to earn respect than to expect it. This is the same philosophy she taught to her Top-Bots, who although had literal iron fists were not allowed rule with them in any way that suggested an abuse of authority.
Back in her study, Ms. Kane awaited Ava.  She knew she would be sent there for some reason or another.  She had guessed one of the Top-Bots would have her sent over for discipline before the 10:00pm curfew. Almost right on the money, a disgruntled Top-Bot brought the woman in for an offense that couldn’t be properly punished because it had never been committed before, nor was it anticipated to be committed.
“I don’t know what to do,” Senior Top-Bot Ms. Jane said frantically as she thrust open the door to Ms. Kane’s office, not even bothering to knock. She held an angry Ava by the scruff of her neck and pushed her inside.  Ava’s features transformed into a smirk when she saw a dismayed Ms. Kane.
“What in the holy heck is going on here?” Ms. Dana asked.
“What is going on?” Ms. Jane repeated. “What is going on?  All of the Miscreant females are “twerking” to someone who goes by the name of Mikey Cy..”
“Miley,” Ava interrupted.
Ms. Jane threw up her hands in agitation. “MILEY Cyrus and the male Miscreants are grabbing their…” Her face flushed as she said the words.  She spit them out hurriedly, “crotches,” she whispered, “Like this Justin Bieber person.” She grabbed Ava’s vintage iPod and showed Ms. Kane the images.  “It’s almost bedtime and there is a grand old party going on in there and nobody can administer any discipline because we’re not programmed to know what kind of offense this is.”
Ms. Kane looked about thoughtfully, as if she were making calculations in her mind. It didn’t take her very long to figure out. “It’s a level 10.  Complete disregard for all of the rules here at Planet Degroot. Every night for the next then nights the Top-Bot responsible for each group will administer a punishment.  A level one spanking on the first night, a level two spanking on the second night, etcetera.  On the 10th day, we will have all the participating Miscreants come to the Auditorium where they will be given two strokes of the cane saber on their naked behinds in front of everyone.  I will be administering the saber since this is a direct mockery of my rules.  Ms. Kane spoke with a level head.  She was not angry.  She was rarely angry. She was not however, amused.  She asked that Ms. Jane go get a handle on things with the other staff while she tended to Ava, personally.
Ava was a woman with light blonde streaked with dancing rainbow highlights. She was slightly overweight but not unattractive.  Her eyes were a rich blue, and deep.  She looked rather innocent in her night uniform, a simple white dress with cotton panties.  Ms. Kane preferred the traditional look of the old days when discipline was alive and in style.  Discipline was not fashionable in the future, but that all would change after Planet DeGroot’s influence.
Ms. Kane also had blue eyes, of a lighter color, but hypnotizing all the same.  She beckoned Ava towards her. “Do you realize what you’ve done?” she asked sternly, not rising from her seat but lifting up her head and lowering her glasses so that her eyes met Ava’s.  For the first time Ava felt a twinge of nervousness. She didn’t do anything wrong really.  She was just having fun, and she was brazen enough to tell Ms. Kane just that, in no uncertain terms.
“Well I hope you enjoyed your fun, because it’s likely the last of it you’ll see for some time.  I made the rules clear in the auditorium earlier, didn’t I?”
Ava nodded, the woman before her had the gift to make her feel shamed; something she was not accustomed to.
“And did I also not allow you to keep your “vintage” nonsense?”
Ava nodded again, her eyes darting to the ground.
“There’s nothing left to do but punish you. You inspired a rebellion, and I don’t appreciate it.  I work very hard here to keep order.  I’m not a tyrant. I most certainly allow fun and games, but there must be structure otherwise this whole system will shut down. I don’t think you quite understand me, and you might not for some time.  I know you will need to adjust, and I’ve found the most universal language on Planet Degroot is when the hand communicates with the bottom.” She gestured towards her lap. “You are going to willingly come here this moment and get over my knee.”
Ava hesitated, fiddling with her hair, wishing to make some snide remark but unable to draw it out of herself.
“It wasn’t a suggestion,” Ms. Kane barked.
Ava stood at attention, feeling somewhat afraid.  She gingerly walked towards Ms. Kane who decided to help her by forcing her over her lap.  The woman fell clumsily over Ms. Kane’s knee. Ms. Kane felt slightly badly for acting a little aggressively, and so she composed herself and more gently maneuvered Ava into a more comfortable position. “Hold on to the legs of the chair,” she instructed.
Ava gripped on to the legs of the chair with both hands, feeling too entirely mortified to make any snarky comments or even to protest.  It was her will to jump off of this woman’s lap and tell her just where she could shove her bionic spanking arm, but the words were stuck in her throat.  They refused to come out.  She dared not say a thing, even as she felt her dress lifted up, exposing her panty-clad bottom.
“I’m just going to get right down to this,” Ms. Kane informed her, administering level one smacks over Ava’s underwear. Level one was a combination of a warm-up and a moderately painful spanking, mostly a warning and deterrent.
*SMACK*
The first spank landed across both cheeks.  It wasn’t terribly painful, but there was definitely an unpleasant sting.  The spanking continued.
*SMACK* *SMACK* *SMACK*SMACK*
The smacks were coming in rapid succession now.  Ava started to squirm and wiggle away from the pain.  Suddenly the idea of a bionic hand terrified her.  It all started to seep in as the spanking went on.  Several dozen whacks over her panties had her panting and agitated.  She was stubborn and remained silent, not even an “Ow” escaped her lips, but inside she was fighting her fear and the pain.
Ms. Dana’s hand didn’t feel like a piece of metal, but Ms. Dana had said in the auditorium that the spankings weren’t meant to feel as if one was being beaten with a piece of steel.  That would compromise tradition she said, and also, be brutal. All of this was factored into the bionic hands, which were hard but remained supple and felt exactly like flesh.
Ava’s bottom was becoming sore.  She hardly noticed that Ms. Kane had taken her panties down.  When she did, she felt mortififed. The shame decorated her face the color of blooming red roses.  She wanted to scream “No,” or anything at all really, yet she was so shocked at her predicament she could do nothing at all but lie there.
Ms. Kane was silent, mostly. She let her hand do the talking.  When she reached a level 3, Ava could no longer keep the sounds inside. First they came as indistinguishable utterances.  Then they came as pleas.  Finally they came as tears, gradually at first, then streaming down her face. She squirmed over Ms. Kane’s lap.  The smacks continued. Right cheek. Left cheek. Both cheeks. Upper thighs.  When the hand made contact with her thigh, Ava couldn’t help but let out a literal scream.
That was met with a slap to her other thigh.  “Now stop that right now,” Ms. Kane scolded. “You’re gonna wake the whole darn planet.  You did this, not me. All my hard work promoting unity and obedience, pruning my trees and you come in singlehandedly and try to destroy my forest!”
Ava vaguely remembered the tree references from earlier at the auditorium. Ms. Dana kept relating trees to Miscreants.
“I didn’t mean it,” Ava pleaded, her tears so full in her eyes that the floor was blurry.
“Of course you meant it,” Dana told her. “We don’t do things we don’t mean to do!”
After another several dozen slaps, Ava was delirious.  Her hair stuck to her face with sweat and tears. “Okay, okay,” she yelped. “I did mean it, but I’m sorry now.  I’m soooooooo sorry.  Please, please stop.”
Ms. Kane did believe her.  It was hard not to be sorry during a spanking like this, even if you weren’t quite sure what you were expected to be sorry for.  Ms. Kane had learned this was the way it went with new Miscreants. It was all pars for the course. But Ms. Dana also learned that she had to continue even after the tears ran out, after the body stopped shaking and the bottom became too red to continue much longer.  It was the experience of continued pain that taught the lesson.  The experience needed to be remembered, or the lesson would be lost.
Ms. Kane delivered another dozen smacks, as hard as she could. “These last ones are going to be the hardest, and I’m assuming I don’t need to remind you why you’re here right now, do I?  She gently moved the woman’s hair from her face.”
Ava shook her head, bracing for the blows.
When it was all said and done, Ava fell to the floor.  She rested her head in Ms. Kane’s lap, surprised to be met with tenderness after such an ordeal.  No one had ever treated her kindly before. She raised her head to look at Ms. Kane who was seemed to be playing with her wrist and forearm.
“Ma’am?” she asked.
Ms. Kane was pleased with the change of attitude.  “Yes?”
“Would you mind telling me what level we had stopped at?  I noticed you programming or re-programming your arm just now.”
The Disciplinarian let out a loud chuckle. “Ha! Darlin’” she laughed. “I’m not a Top-Bot, just a Top.  I don’t need any machine in me to deliver one heck of a spanking.  I was just fiddling with my watch. I was born this way!”

Spanko Cheesecake

 

Sometimes you have no other reason to post a photo than the simple fact that it’s fabulous. I give you such a photo….

 

IMG_20140210_163952
The rainbow socks are those ones with each toe individually knitted – if you don’t understand why I let her keep them on, I cannot possibly explain it to you.

 

You’re welcome.

–  Dana

Revisiting Sarah Gregory..

 

Sarah Gregory has been updating her site a LOT lately, and, as always, it looks like she’s having a whole lot of fun! Sarah always has a varied cast of both tops and bottoms, and she’s game for giving or taking a spanking – this makes for a really interesting and sexy mix of content on Sarah’s site, and I’m particularly loving these most recent ones.

A few of my recent favorites:

 

Punishment in the Principal’s Office

50 Shades of Spanking

The Workout Burn
The Bitchy Bride

It’s all about Meme

 

What does a blogger do when she can’t think of a damned thing else to talk about but needs to post something up in order to keep a regular and diverse stream of available content?

With about 75 seconds of research, I’ve come upon Meme.

What is a meme? I had to google it a while back to figure it out. My conclusion: I’m still not sure.

Seemingly, a meme can be anything from a silly captioned photo to a slogan to a list of personal attributes. I’m still a bit stumped on this one, but of late ‘meme’ appears to be the term used for those survey things we used to do on MySpace in the olden days. For the most part, they’re vain and self-serving (two things which I think get a bad rap), but are at the very least an insight into trivial things you may not have otherwise known about a person.

For all the above stated excuses, I give you – ripped from the pages of my friend Erica’s blog – this ridiculous ‘meme’.

–  Dana

 

The phone rings. Who do you want it to be?
My favorite caller  –  Wrong Number.

When shopping at the grocery store, do you return your cart?
My fella returns the cart with 100% efficiency. 

In a social setting, are you more of a talker or a listener?
If you can get me to shut up, I’m a great listener. 

Do you take compliments well?
I never look a gift compliment in the mouth.
 
Are you an active person?
I wouldn’t run if someone were chasing me, but otherwise am generally active.

If abandoned alone in the wilderness, do you survive?
Not for five seconds. I am a complete wimp. First I’d plop down in the middle of the wilderness and cry. Then I’d probably eat something poisonous and croak. (The above answer is Erica’s, but because it is so profoundly succinct I’ve decided to steal it. I, too, would die almost immediately if not sooner.)

Did you ever go to camp as a kid?
Once. I still cannot believe that I was allowed away for that weekend camp, and with good reason. I was SUCH a misbehaver!

What was your favorite game/s as a kid?
Anything that could be played outside and shoeless; preferably involving lawn darts or some other wildly dangerous 1970’s toy.

A sexy person is pursuing you, but you know that he/she is married, would you?
Never.

Are you judgmental?
Yep. Everyone is, about something. I’m judgmental about littering, kicking puppies, shoving old ladies….lotsa stuff, really.

Do you like to pursue or be pursued?
Both.

Use three words to describe yourself.
Intent Upon Contentment

If you had to choose, would you rather be deaf or blind?
Weird question…I’m going with deaf, since ASL is cool.
Are you continuing your education?
I’m always learning, but am not currently paying anyone (with interest) to teach me.

Do you know how to shoot a gun?
Better than you’d think..

How often do you read books?
Every day. (Me too, Erica.)
 
Do you think more about the past, present or future?
I don’t think I think much about the present, because I’m in it and it’s happening. Past and future are probably neck and neck.
 
What is your favorite children’s book?
Where the Wild Things Are 

Where is your ideal house located?
Someplace with grass and big trees and a huge yard with a little garden and three fat chickens.
 
Boxers, briefs, thongs, panties or grannies?
Yes, please.
 
Last person you talked to?
He’s right….here.

Have you ever taken pictures in a photo booth?
Yep. (Another kindof wasteful meme moment, don’t you think?)
 
What are your keys on your key chain for?
The things a person needs keys for. Duh moment.

Where was the furthest place you traveled today?
Since I arrived home from my most recent trip after midnight, I’d have to say about 1800 miles.

Where is your current pain?
I feel no pain.

Do you like mustard?
Yep.

Do you prefer to sleep or eat?
Eat. Always eat. I can sleep anytime.

Do you look like your mom or dad?
Definitely my dad.

How long does it take you in the shower?
I don’t shower unless I’m in a hotel and don’t want to float in a much-used tub. Otherwise, I’m an hour-long soaker.

What movie do you want to see right now?
I could re-watch Birdcage… 

What did you do for New Year’s?
Went to bed at ten, just like most other nights.

What was the cause of your last accident?
I cannot recall an accident in recent memory. I did once slam into a coworker’s brand new jeep while backing out of my parking space, but that was years ago. 

‘The Errant Robot’ : Future Spank entry

 

Readers,

Here’s another fine entry to the Future Spank story contest, which garnered a LOT of really creative writing. Enjoy ‘The Errant Robot’.

–  Dana

 

THE ERRANT ROBOT

 

Colin woke up with a start.

 

He looked at his bedside clock and swore silently under his breath. He was late, very late. Darn that maid, he thought angrily as he swung quickly out of bed.  He had planned to get into work early today. In fact he needed to.

 

He hurried though the vizi-screen that was showing a tropical beach scene and straight into the kitchen.

 

His Maidbot Lysette was standing, or rather frozen, in position by the kitchen counter. A large wooden spoon was held in one hand over a bowl she had obviously been ready to stir.

 

Lysette was dressed as a nineteenth century French maid. High heel, black court shoes, black stockings with lacy white garters, a black uniform with a frilly edged apron and a matching lace cap on her head. Colin lifted up the back of her skirt and was tempted to fire a hard fast slap against her silky black knickers with white lacy ruffles. But what was the point she wouldn’t feel a thing… yet! He Pushed his thumb in the small of her back and a compartment opened ejecting a small cylindrical object. Her battery. He put it in a charging unit and selected another that was ready and replaced it. Lysette immediately straightened up and turned round, a blush creeping into her porcelain cheeks.

 

She had rosebud lips painted crimson, deep brown eyes and tumbling her that fell past her shoulders and framed her impressive cleavage. Her lips trembled.

 

“I am sorry, Sir. I got distracted I didn’t realise my charge was so low.’

 

Colin pointed at the clock orb. ‘I am going to be late now. And I told you how important it was to wake me this early.’

 

‘I ‘m sorry. It won’t happen again.’

 

‘Hand me the spoon bend, over the table and present your bottom.’

 

‘Please, Sir. Not the spoon. Her lower lip trembled.’

 

‘It was going to be six, each buttock now it will be twelve.’

 

‘Lysette hurried over to the old fashioned kitchen table, bent over it and flipped up her skirt. Presenting her gloriously, womanly, curvy bottom. The silky panties  stretched tight.

 

Colin ran a hand over the smooth wonder of it, wishing he had more time.

 

‘Panties down, he barked.’

 

‘Lysette lowered her panties. Revealing the creamy magnificence of her splendid cheeks, kept modestly together.’

 

‘Crack!’

 

The spoon landed on her right buttock. She yelped but only just. She knew if she wriggled or cried out too loudly the punishment would be increased.

 

‘Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack!

 

Lysette squirmed fighting to keep her thighs together. Colin stood back to admire his handiwork. The ivory perfection of her plump buttock had been pained with a red as deep as a fairy tale rose. He ran his hand over her bottom again feeling the heat rising.

 

‘This is just the start he said. The real punishment will be tonight I expect you to have the implements ready.

 

‘Yes, Sir,’ said Lysette tremulously and then gasped as the spoon landed again.

 

‘Thwack, thwack, thwack, thwack, thwack, thwack!!!’

 

The spanks sounded like pistol shots as Colin cracked the spoon hard down on each buttock.’

 

‘Lysette’s knees buckled and her hands flew to rub her sore bottom before she realised what she was doing.’

.

‘Hands away!’ barked Colin.

 

Lysette moved her hand away and this time Colin spanked the spoon hard three times on the top of each thigh.

 

The maid squealed unable to hold it back and Colin smiled as he looked down on her wriggling derriere.

 

Stay there till I have gone,’ he said. ‘And get the items ready for my return.’

 

He lingered for a moment, excited at the sight of her quivering flesh and then dashed off to the roto-shower.

 

*

 

Ten minutes later he was in the transporter bubble seated across from a tall red head. She was dressed, like most of them in the bubble in a proton body suit, that did nothing much to conceal the outlines of her figure. She had a haughty look about her and Colin fantasised for a moment or two about taking a wooden spoon to her haughty bottom too. But then crossed his legs and looked away. He was late, far too late. He clutched the documents case he held to his chest and hoped his boss would be in at her normal time.

 

Some minutes later and Colin exited the transport bubble and walked through the security scanning field at the entrance to The Museum of Old Things in New Las Vegas.

 

The droids at the other side of the field nodded to him and he hurried down the long marble corridor to his office. The plaque on the door read ‘Colin Freemantle 20th Century Archivist.’ Still clutching his document case he hurried in.

His secretary Anjelica Buns looked up to him as he entered. She was a small woman but very curvy. Many the days that Colin had dreamed of having her over his lap. Squirming as he took an old fashioned hairbrush to her plumptious cheeks.  But things being as they were and the law being what it was he had to settle for dominating her in more subtle ways. Being her boss had its perks in lots of ways and if his excitement was only acted out in his imagination it was a very powerful imagination and Lysette would get the benefit. If not for her!

 

He hurried over to his desk to get his security key when Anjelica Buns called out.

 

‘Colin!’

 

‘What is it? I am busy!’ he snapped back.

 

‘The Libratix wants to see you.’

 

Colin’s heart raced and his face paled. ‘Do you know what she wants?’ he asked.

 

‘Something to do with administration, she said.’

 

Colin relaxed and sighed relieved. ‘Okay he said. I’ll be back in a bit. Get me a cup of coffee ready.’

 

He hurried out the door, slipping his security key into his pocket and holding his document case tightly is his hand.

 

He knocked on the door further down the corridor from his office. His Boss. The Libratix. Lana Dane.

 

‘Enter!’

 

Colin pushed the door open and walked into his Boss’s office. IT was decorated very much n Old World Style. Wooden floors, expensive rugs and drapes, a large antique desk upon which Lana Dane leaned against.

 

She was a tall woman in very good shape. She was dressed in black and had shiny, jet black cropped hair. Her lipstick was the same shade of red as his Maidbot and Colin felt his heart race again. She was dressed in Old World style too, shiny, black leather high heeled pumps, an above the knee skirt, a crisp, pure white blouse and a black jacket. Colin couldn’t help but imagine she had stockings on under the skirt and moved his document case in front of himself.

 

‘I need to talk to you, Colin,’ she said. Her voice confident, authoritarian but as smooth as the silk of the panties he imagined she was wearing.

 

‘Yes, Ma’am,’ he replied. ‘Angle said it was something about administration?’

 

‘Indeed it is. Administration such a flexible word don’t you find?’

 

‘I guess.’ Colin shrugged. Seemed a pretty boring word to him. That was what secretaries were for after all. Administration and filing.

 

Dana Lane pushed a button on her wristcom and Colin heard the lock behind him close.

 

‘Something has come to my attention Colin.’

 

Colin felt his throat constrict, his mouth suddenly dry. ’Some filing issues,’ he asked.

 

‘No Colin. Not filing. Things that should have been kept in secure files that have been taken out.’

 

‘What do you mean?’ he stammered.

 

‘Bring that document case over here and put the contents on my desk.’

 

‘These are personal papers.’

 

‘I can get the security droids up here and alert the Moral Guardians if you prefer.’ She replied.

 

Colin felt his world slipping under his feet as he walked over to her desk.’

 

‘Please…’ he started to beg.

 

‘Do it now!’ She barked the order and Colin, with shaking hands undid the case and put the magazines on her desk.’

 

‘And what have we here?’

 

‘Err… I am not sure. I was just doing some research.’

 

‘English spanking magazines from the Nineteen seventies and eighties!’ said Lana Dane. ‘Magazines that are prohibited and a crime to be in possession of and should be kept under secure lock and key in the archives.’

 

Colin felt his face redden as much as the blush he had brought to his Maidbot’s cheeks.  ‘I can explain…’ he started to say but the Libratix held up her hand.

 

‘There is no need to explain I have been told everything.’ She picked up the magazines. Janus. Februs. Martinet. All with pictures and photos of women being spanked and caned. Some in maids outfits, some as school girls, some just naked, baring their bottoms immodestly. Lana opened one of the magazines and showed Colin the picture and if his face was red before… it was crimson now.

 

‘What are you g.g. going to do?’ he stuttered.

 

‘Like I say, Colin,’ she smiled as she put the magazine back on her desk. ‘It’s a question of administration.’

 

Colin inward sighed with relief again. If it was demotion he could live with that. He didn’t want to go to prison.

 

‘I’ll do anything!’ he said.

 

‘Oh you don’t have to do anything,’ Lana laughed.

 

‘What do you mean?’

 

‘It will me who will be giving the administration.’ She pushed her wristcom once more and the door opened and Anjelica Buns walked in, her rosy cheeks smiling and handed Dana Lane a small suitcase.

 

‘Now you have a decision to make, Colin,’ said the Libratix, ‘You can accept my rulings or you can be taken to the Morality Guardians, your choice.’

 

‘I’ll do anything you say,’ said Colin.

 

‘Good,’ replied Dana and handed him the case.

 

‘Get changed into these. I’ll be back in twenty minutes, I want you bent over the desk and ready for me.’

 

‘Yes, boss,’ he replied.

 

Dana Lane slapped him hard across the face and he reeled with shock.  ‘Get it right!’

 

‘Yes, Ma’am?’ he tried.

 

She slapped him hard again. ‘Do better!’

 

Colin spluttered, his mind in a whirl. ‘Yes, Mistress he said.’

 

Dana Lane smiled, revealing perfectly shaped, beautifully white teeth. ‘It’s going to be a long lesson for you. Come along Angelica,’ she said to Colin’s PA the boy needs to ready himself.

 

Colin heard the door close behind him and then opened the case and gasped with shock at what he saw inside. It was a nineteenth century’s maid outfit, complete with a curly dark wig, stockings and shoes. Almost identical to his Maidbot’s Lysette’s outfit.

 

 

Ten minutes later and Colin was dressed. Shoes, stockings, suspenders, the maids outfit and the wig on. He had smoothed his hands over his own now silky clad bottom and was surprised how pleasing it was and how excited it made him. He bent over the table and waited nervously. He had a guess of the kind of administration that was coming to him but he had no ideas of what manner and his heart raced nervously in anticipation of it. He didn’t have to wait long.

 

*

 

‘Remain in that position and put your bottom out!’

 

The crisp tones of Dana Lane, Libratix of the Museum of Old thing in New Las Vegas , voice was unmistakeable. There was a giggle as he raised his bottom that he could not recognise and his cheeks crimsoned once more as he realised it was not just Dana in the room. His face cheeks were crimsoned but not as much as his other cheeks were going to.

 

‘’Lift the skirt and show us your panties, Girl!’ she continued.

 

Colin’s cheeks were aflame now as he did as he was ordered.

 

‘Very pretty panties,’ said Dana. ‘So before the administration begins I think a new name for you don’t you.’

 

‘I suppose,’ said Colin shrugging confusedly and then yelped with pain as a searing pain flared across his bottom.

 

‘I beg your pardon?’

 

‘I mean yes, Mistress.’

 

‘Well Colin, I think you will be Cecily from now on. Anjelica go round and hold Cecily’s hands as she stretches them across the desk.’

Another swipe and Colin felt the same searing pain bite into each buttock.

 

‘Stretch them out!’

 

Colin quickly did as he was told, his face burning with shame as he saw Anjelica’s amused face as she took hold of his hands and held them in a surprisingly strong grip.

 

‘Now I think we want to have those panties down, don’t you Cecily?’

 

‘Yes Mistress,’ Colin gasped although he didn’t sound too happy.

 

‘In fact I think we’ll have them right off. Why don’t you have the pleasure my dear?’

 

Colin felt a cool pair of hands run over his bottom and then a giggle as the panties were lowered revealing two welts beginning to form on his pale bottom.

 

‘Now give him six each cheek with this,’ said Dana Lane.

 

Crack! Colin yelped as each stinging shot landed on his already sore buttocks.

 

‘Can you tell what the implement is?’ asked the Libratix.

 

‘A paddle?’ gasped Colin and then yelped again as a swish landed across his  flaming backside.

 

‘A paddle what?!”

 

‘A paddle, Mistress,’ Colin could barely speak and tears were beginning to form in his eyes.

 

‘Wrong! Six more each side and then three each upper thigh. And if you squirm too much, Cecily. We will start again.’

 

The spanks came down hard and fast and Colin fought hard not to squirm, Anjelica Buns held his hands tight as he wriggled and squealed.

 

‘Show him the item,’ said Dana Lane derriere as the final spank landed.

 

Colin gasped as a wooden spoon was put on the table. His own wooden spoon that he had disciplined his Maidbot with only that very morning.

 

‘That’s right, Cecily. Lysette acted like a good citizen and informed me of the items that you had taken from the archive. But more importantly items you had stolen from other departments. Lay them on the table for me please, dear.’

 

Lysette stepped around the table and Colin gasped again, his maid was now dressed in a figure hugging plasto-suit in shiny black. High heeled and with a satisfied smile on her face as she lay the antique implements on the table:  a leather boudoir paddle from London Tanners, an English riding crop and a Scottish two-tailed strap.

 

Colin swallowed hard, dreading what was to follow but relieved that there was one item missing. ‘Please…’ he began.

 

‘You do not speak until given permission so to do! Is that understood Cecily?’

 

Colin’s bottom quivered as much as his bottom lip trembled. ‘Yes, Mistress.’

 

‘Good. Well it is time to begin the proper administration. Lysette why don’t you swop places with Anjelica, and Anjelica pick an implement and begin his lesson. Eighteen hard on each side. Anjelica grinned broadly as Colin’s Maidbot grasped his hands firmly and picked up the boudoir paddle. It was heavy leather with a metal interior and she slapped it happily in her hand. Then walked around the desk.

 

‘You told me to prepare the implements…’ Lysette was about to say sir, but caught her self and smiled widely… ‘Cecily. I do hope they are to your liking.’

 

‘Crack!’

 

Colin gasped again as the searing heat flared once more in his aching rear. He had noticed that his secretary had a strong grip and felt the power as every stroke landed. One buttock to the next. Crack! Crack! Crack!

 

He had never known such agony like it he had to bite his tongue to stop crying out for mercy. But he knew such pleas would be met with more punishment. Goodness knows he had done the same to his Maidbot often enough even knowing she felt the pain every bit as much as he was now.

 

The women swopped places again and the paddle was followed by the tawse. His Maidbot giggled as every swat landed on his apple red and blistering bottom. And then Anjelica took her turn again with the English riding crop every swipe feeling like a bee sting and rising little welts on his now purpling posterior.

 

Finally the last, eighteenth swipe of the crop landed and Colin gasped with relief. He had genuinely been punished to tears and he sobbed, so very, very glad it was over.

 

Except it wasn’t.’

 

‘Well I hope you have learned your lesson Cecily?’ asked Dana Lane.

 

‘Yes please. I have. I really have.’ He begged through his tears.

 

‘Stand up, turn round and face me.’ Lysette the Maidbot released Colin’s hands and he stood up, his head giddy, his knees weak and turned round and gasped in surprise. His boss, Lana Dane, the Libratix of the Museum of Old Things New Las Vegas, had removed her jacket shirt and skirt. Her magnificent legs were sheathed in gloriously silky, black stockings. She had an old fashioned basque on in matching black with a 1940’s style conical bra and black knickers. He recognised it from the La Maitresse range from a an English company back in the twenty first century. La Maitresse being French for The Mistress of course. And for a moment he forgot the burning agony of his beaten bottom and felt his heart beating with excitement again.

 

‘Hands down, Cecily!’ barked the Libratix and Colin swiftly moved his hands to cover his immodesty. And then he saw what she was holding in her hand. The item he thought that had been missed. A very rare cane-iac, two foot long Lexan cane that he had stolen from the ancient artefacts warehouse. Made in acrylic and he knew just how much it stung. Not from first hand experience of course but on the rare times he had thrashed the beautifully wobbling bottom of his Maidbot. Had admired the beautiful welts it raised in her porcelain cheeks and took delight in her tears and yelps as every cut of the cane landed.

 

He wasn’t so pleased to see it now.

 

‘Eyes down, Cecily!’ said Dana Lane, I just got comfortable so I can swing the cane more easily. Now turn round and bend over the desk. Your hands won’t be held and you are to receive eighteen strokes. If you move position we will start again. Now get over and put your bottom in the air!’

 

Colin felt he was almost ready to faint. He bent over the desk once more and flipped up the maid’s skirt he was wearing and lifted his bottom, helped by his very high heels, a bottom that was welted and purpled and already very well sore.

 

Swish! The lexan cane landed on his proudly presently posterior and he yelped like his maid had squealed many times before, but this time the sound of his yelping brought no pleasure to him.

 

Again and again the cane swiped down on his quivering bottom. It was a baptism of fire. He had never felt such agony, never felt such humiliation as he heard his secretary and his Maidbot laugh as every swishing slash landed on his cherry red cheeks.

 

Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen! Colin’s knees quivered and shivered and he gulped in air as the tears ran down his face. He was glad he hadn’t moved. He honestly didn’t think he could face much more even if it did mean an appearance before the Moral Guardians. He knew the women would back each other and even his Maidbot’s evidence would be taken into account.

 

‘Up Cecily and go and stand in the corner!’ said Dana Lane.

 

Colin did as he was instructed.

 

‘You may rub your bottom, Cecily’ the Libratix whispered in his ear.

 

Colin thankfully did as he was allowed.

 

‘Now take this and hold it by your nose to the wall, and if it falls to the floor in the next eighteen minutes you will be caned the same again!’

 

Colin took the coin. It was as a twenty first century gambling token from old Las Vegas. He placed it and held it to the wall with his nose. Begging beyond hope it didn’t  fall.

 

As the ladies behind him chatted and laughed, and he focused on the coin, he realised that the feeling in his bottom was now a pleasant one and the whole sensation of being punished and exposed was maybe more exciting than he thought it would be. And as his thoughts dwelt on that he moved his hands forward, mindful of Miss Lana’s commands on modesty, and pressed his nose harder into the wall.

 

*

 

Colin closed his ipad, a blushing flush creeping over his cheeks as the door opened and Angel walked into the reception room.

 

‘So, Colin. I gather you like my bottom?’ she said.

 

Colin’s blush deepened. Angel was a curvy figured, young woman, with blonde hair, cornflower blue eyes, as American as apple pie and with a derriere he could only dream of laying his hand upon.

 

‘’Well I…’ Colin stammered.

 

‘Never mind,’ Angel interrupted. ‘Miss Dana Kane liked your story and she will see you now.’

 

Angel gestured to the door with a knowing smile. ‘Sometimes It’s best to be careful for what you wish for!’ she said.

 

Colin walked to the door nervously as Angel chuckled holding the paddle, unseen by him, behind her back.

Reflections on a ‘new’ spankos first year

 

Readers,

Below is an email, excerpted, I received from one of my playmates. New to the spanking ‘thing’, we all have a lot to learn, but I wanted to share this email for a couple specific reasons.

Not only does my somewhat-new friend now understand the enormous emotional/psychological impact of spanking, but there’s also been a revelation which I, myself, have never before had. Apparently, I’m lucky because I get to, in many cases immediately, take out my frustrations on loved ones when I see them taking part in dangerous or self-harming behaviors. Most folks don’t have the luxury of yanking someone across their lap for a good hard spanking when it’s obviously deserved…

for this I am grateful.

And also for every one of my cool, smart (and smartass), amazing friends and playmates – you all rock!

For the rest of the Newbies out there, why don’t some of you tried-and-true spankos share some of your first-year revelations in the comment box below?

–  Dana

 

Here’s the original email:

 

Dear Dana-

As I sit here, with a ridiculously and well deserved sore bottom, I can’t help but to reflect back on our time together last night and throughout the year.

Being new to the “spanko” world has been exhilarating, painful (bc in the beginning, and even now, I found myself in trouble ALL of the time!) and most of all, surprisingly nurturing and loving.

You kind of caught me off guard as I didn’t expect to find a person like you and didn’t even know enough about the spanking world to know that “loving and nurturing” people even existed in the “spanko” world. One tends to read about all the horror stories of their tops and not the other way around. And with that being said, I stand in gratitude that our paths have crossed. I’m blessed that I was caught off guard because I tend to be a tad bit closed off but I’m working on that piece within myself.

Which brings me to the point you so painfully made on my bottom last night-

I totally get it now as to why you had to discipline me in the way you did last night. When you TRULY care for someone, you don’t want them to put themselves in harms way and I realize now, how much I was doing that and most importantly how much you care for me.

Our relationship is completely different than any relationship I’ve ever had, for several reasons but the main reason is because I have given you permission to “correct” behaviors that you see as harmful and, most importantly, I trust you and I know that whatever discipline you give to me is done with love and compassion and is for my own good. And for both of our own good!

You should count yourself lucky that you get to “spank” the people you care about if they are putting themselves in harms way etc. As for me, it isn’t possible to spank such people …(it’s not my dharma) so, all I get is frustrated, let down and riddled with anxiety when people are careless with their lives.

So basically, what I’m trying to say is that last night was like a mirror reflecting back on me. I could see how frustrating it must be for you to care for people who don’t care for themselves AND, I saw that piece within myself. There are tons of people I care about that don’t care about themselves. And it breaks my heart. Reflecting back to you, I don’t want to be that person to YOU. Because I do care about myself.  Your time, energy and love is not wasted on me. I’ve just never slowed down long enough or no one has been able to catch me to point these blind spots out to me. Or perhaps both?

I wish I could say that I’m going to be absolutely perfect from here on out but we both know that ain’t gonna happen! But what I can say and I am committed to doing, is taking much better care of myself than I currently am. And when I slip up, I’m sure you will be there with a firm hand to put me back on the straight and narrow. Ouch!!

Pandora Blake makes great movies

Pandora Blake has been posting up some really excellent male bottom content on her site Dreams of Spanking, including some with the absolutely adorable Michael Darling. One of the reasons that I love Pandora’s site is that she doesn’t discriminate when it comes to a good spanking – you’ll find girls spanking boys and girls, and boys spanking boys AND girls, too. Diversity! She’s also cranked up the heat lately with a steamy explicit photoset, and always has some of the prettiest, most well-thought-out costumes and set designs you’ll find in spanking films today. Having had the pleasure of working with Pandora twice, it’s also always reassuring to know that someone is as sweet, genuine, and cool as they seem. She is.

 

A few previews from those hot /M scenes:

 

 

Nursing a Grudge

 

 

Military Discipline

 

The Baroness’ New Houseboy

Boarding School Birching

‘Bottom to the Future’ : A Future Spank story entry

 

Readers,

Enjoy this great Future Spank contest entry, written by a sweet girl who calls herself Randy Lee – I did.

–  Dana

 

 

Bottom to the Future

 

On a sunny Tuesday, Kim sits at an outdoor table at a café in a suburb of Dallas.  She taps the edge of her palmtop computer to turn the page of the newspaper she’s reading.  The early afternoon sun glints off the windows of the silver monorail cars as the train rounds a curve on its approach to the stop in front of the café.  When the train is still, Kim’s friend Monica emerges from a monorail car and waves as she walks toward her.  Kim stands up and hugs her friend in greeting.

“Have you ordered yet?” Monica asks as the two women sit down.

“No, I was waiting for you,” Kim replies.  “I’m not in any hurry today.  Elroy is doing some psychology research at the library, and Jeremy is meeting a friend at the fitness center for some weight training and racquetball after work.  I don’t need to have supper ready until 7 o’clock.”

“I have a leisurely day, too,” says Monica, touching some of the areas of the menu screen built into the table as she decides on a lunch selection.  “Morgan and her friend Emery are going to have a cram session for an upcoming exam in their mental disorders class.  They’re going for a swim workout at the natatorium and then stopping for Chinese takeout on the way to Emery’s house.  Morgan’s spending the night there.  They have a pretty good study system with their combination of exercise, nutrition, and mental activity.  And sleep.  They have instructions to be in bed with lights out at 11:00 p.m.  Both of them get good grades.  Emery’s parents are as proud of her as Keith and I are of Morgan.  And I know Elroy ranks pretty high in his class at the university.”

“Yes, he does keep his grades up,” Kim agrees.  “Sometimes I wonder how he does it, with chess, Space Cadets, and the other activities he’s been involved in.  We’ve instilled in him for years that his course work is more important most of the time.  We started teaching him in 6th grade that if he begins to have trouble with his grades or getting enough sleep, extra activities will be removed.  His schooling is his “job,” and his grades are his paycheck.  Activities outside of schoolwork are frills, and frills can easily fall by the wayside.  He knows we’re not kidding.  It was the rule in junior high, then high school, and now at the university.”

Monica peruses the menu and decides on her meal.  She and Kim spend a few seconds ordering from the touch-screen menu.

Kim sighs, a faraway—but satisfied—expression on her face.  “How did we wind up with such well-behaved, responsible children?” she asks rhetorically.

“You just said it,” Monica points out.  “You’ve trained Elroy for years, disciplining him to focus on his schoolwork.”  She pauses, a thoughtful look on her face.  “But specifically, how did you and Jeremy accomplish

this discipline?”

Kim’s gaze darts rapidly, randomly, in several different directions.  She looks ill at ease.  “Well,” she begins, “I’m uncomfortable admitting this, but we used spanking.  Just a smack or two on the backside.  I would use my hand when he was a little fella, and Jeremy would use his belt starting when Elroy was about six.  It was the event, not the severity, that was effective.  Jeremy would tell Elroy he was going to give him a whipping, and explain why.  Elroy would just say, ‘Yes, sir.  I know I deserve it.’  Jeremy would take his belt off, make Elroy bend over and put his hands on the bed, and swat him twice with his belt.  Then Elroy would thank his father for the punishment and for caring enough to shape his behavior.  I don’t think Jeremy has whipped him since he was eight or nine.  Now, there have been a few times some years back when we’ve taken away his communication device for three days, but Elroy says essentially the same thing, thanking me or his father for punishing him and for helping him develop responsibility and self-discipline.  I imagine we’re the only parents in the Cosmoplex who have used such primitive methods of child-rearing.”

“Probably not the only ones,” Monica counters, “but you have to admit it’s way out of style.  For children, at least.”

Kim chuckles.  “Right:  for children.”  We know a lot more about the style for adults,” she says, grinning.

Monica laughs out loud.  “That we do, Kim.”

Three electronic pings signal the emergence of two miniature helicopters from a rectangular opening near the top of a portion of the building that is shaped like a small silo.  Each tiny aircraft homes in on the table, waits for the women to lean back to make room, and lands gracefully on the touch-screen menu that corresponds with the helicopter’s “cargo.”

Kim and Monica remove their respective food orders from the rigid baskets beneath the aircraft, the helicopters return to the delivery portal, and the women eat in silence for a couple of minutes.

Kim then asks, “What techniques have you and Keith used with Morgan?”

Monica considers the question as she chews and swallows her current bite of sandwich.  “Keith and I have relied on the practice of using time-outs with Morgan ever since she was a toddler.  At first, I would sit with her and make sure she stayed seated in her chair.  I would set the timer for two minutes, and she wasn’t allowed out of the chair until the timer sounded and I said she could get up.  I would talk with her about what she did, why she was being punished, and how she could behave better.  When she was a little older, we used a clock, and that’s how she learned to tell time.  I won’t say she enjoyed time-outs, but we made it a learning experience in addition to being a discipline technique.  Morgan was never spanked until she was 18.  No, wait:  She was 19.  She told us she was going one place and we learned she actually went with a friend to a concert Keith and I had said she could not attend.  Keith put her in the Hidetanner for ten minutes, set at 30.  She tried to be stoic, but it got the best of her, and she was crying before six minutes had passed.  Her behind was bright pink.  Afterwards, she apologized to us for disobeying our instructions and for lying about it.  Then she told us that several things the musicians did during the concert were in poor taste and that she knew we had been correct in not allowing her to go.  She assured us that she had learned not only that disobedience and lying would not be tolerated, but also that she realized our judgment and decisions were wise and were in her best interests.  That was two years ago, and she hasn’t given us any reason to repeat that punishment.”

“I should say not,” Kim agreed.  “Ten minutes at the 30 level for a newbie would be pretty rough.”  Of course, you and I do 50 and 60 routinely, and for way more than ten minutes.”

“Well, of course we do, but both of us are used to it.  Besides, we like it, but Morgan does not.  She definitely isn’t ‘one of us.’  I’ll tell you, though, I wasn’t used to what Keith did last week.”  Monica paused, her brow knit as she recalled the event.  “I had been at the regular Tuesday meeting of the Hydroponic Society and stayed to talk to a couple of other members.  I lost track of time, supper was late, and Keith was quite angry.  As usual, he didn’t raise his voice, but what it lacked in volume it more than made up for in intensity.  He told me I was going to be punished in the Hidetanner, and he really let me have it.  He set it high and timed it long.  He wasn’t joking, and it wasn’t funny.  He stood there the whole time and talked to me, lecturing me.  I wish he had just left me alone and let me cry in peace.  It still hurts, and that was eight days ago.  Sometimes he can be so demanding and domineering.  I don’t like being treated like a slave.  He and I need to have a talk about that.”

Kim looks concerned.  “Do you think that will make him angry?”

“Oh, no,” Monica asserts.  “He isn’t thin-skinned.  Conversation doesn’t make him angry.  We can have a good conversation about subjects we disagree on.  Most of the time, we come to some kind of agreement, at least in principle.  But Keith doesn’t like rules broken and he doesn’t like the routine disrupted for no good reason.  Now, if there’s a good reason, that’s never a problem.  We all know things can happen.  You know, monorail delays, traffic jams, those kinds of unforeseen circumstances.  However, thoughtlessness is always a problem, even when he’s guilty of it.  He’s been known to put himself in the Hidetanner.”

“Speaking of which,” Kim interjects, “how do you think the Hidetanner compares with the Spankocert you and Keith used to have?”

“It’s more rigorous than our Spankocert GX2 was,” Monica replies.  “Well, that machine was four years old, so you can understand it didn’t have the kick it had when it was new.  The Hidetanner can do a really good job of covering a large area, but it can also be set to concentrate on the same spot over and over.  And it can deliver the side wrap I’m sometimes in the mood for.  Yours is a Spankocert GX4, right?”

“Yes,” Kim confirms.  “I like it, but I’m interested in trying yours, just to see what it might do differently.  Maybe it does some things better.”

“I’d be glad to let you try it out.  How about at our party on Friday of next week.  You and Jeremy are planning to come, aren’t you?” Monica asks.

“You bet.  We wouldn’t miss it.  We always have a great time at the parties.  Are a lot of people going to be there?”

“About 20, if everyone comes who E-plied.  Several people are going to bring their frames, benches, and even some machines,” Monica notes.  “And, of course, the toys their machines use.”

Kim registered surprise.  “There are machines light enough to be portable?”

“Oh, yes,” Monica confirms.  “Dawn and Josh have one.  I’m eager to see it in action.”

Kim looks at her wrist phone.  “Will you look at the time!  I need to be getting home.”  She touches an icon at the top of the menu screen to display the cost of her meal, and Monica follows suit.  Near the center of the table at each woman’s place, a block 8 centimeters square rises from the surface of the table disclosing an opening in the block resembling a mouth ready to eat money.  As each woman inserts her money, the block calculates the change, deposits it on the table, and lowers back into the surface of the table.

Kim and Monica gather their belongings, stand up, and hug.  “There’s my ride,” Kim says, spying a monorail train moving closer toward the restaurant station.

Monica walks with her to the platform, saying, “Mine should be the next one, in about five minutes.

Kim boards one of the cars.  Monica awaits her train, smiling in anticipation of the party.

 

 

Ten Days Later

 

“Keith!” Monica calls.  “Did you get the tables and chairs set up on the patio?”

“Yes,” he answers.  Everything’s ready for the guests.  Do you want me to put out the trays that are on the kitchen table?”

“Yes, please.  That much is done, and all that’s left is the beverage and ice dispensers.”

Got ’em, Keith says. He retrieves the drink dispenser and an ice dispenser from a closet off the patio, where they had been waiting, primed.

The doorbell rings.  Monica goes to the door and opens it to usher in six guests, all talking at once.  With everyone being in a “Friday mood,” smiles and cheerfulness abound.

“Come on in, y’all,” Monica invites.  “Make yourselves at home in the living room, out on the patio, or wherever you’re comfortable.”

The guests move to different areas, talking among themselves or going to the patio to greet Keith.

Another ring of the doorbell is heard, and one of the new arrivals definitely makes himself at home by yelling, “I’ll get it.”  He opens the door to admit another party of guests.  “Come in this house,” he tells them, smiling.  “How ya doin’, Jim?”  He shakes hands with the man in the group.

“Can’t complain,” the man returns the handshake.  “I saw Josh and Dawn coming down the street in their van.”

Both men look out the door and see the vehicle pull up behind a car and park in front of the house.  The occupants get out and close their doors.  The man opens the cargo door and begins to pull a covered piece of equipment from the van and position it on the sidewalk.  The woman closes the cargo door and locks the van.  The man tilts the apparatus onto its wheels and guides it toward the house.  A couple of other men help lift the machine over the threshold and assist in shielding the door jambs.  With the shrouded mystery apparatus finally in the middle of the living room, its owner, Josh, announces, “Ta DA!”  Ladies and gentlemen, feast your eyes on the very latest in portable, automated spanking pleasure.  I give you . . . the ‘Angel Maker.’ ”  He whisks away the cover to reveal the stainless steel machine.  Everyone begins to applaud, voicing comments like, “It’s beautiful,” “I can hardly wait to try it out,” and “Oooh, it looks scary.”

“Okay, folks,” Monica says, getting their attention, “why don’t we all gravitate out onto the patio so people who are bringing frames can have some room to set them up.  We can chat out here while that’s going on.  Of course, the ones who specialize in putting things together can hang out in the living room and help.  Some people are still on the way.”  The majority of the group follow Monica out to the patio.

In response to subsequent rings of the doorbell, those who are closest admit the partygoers and welcome them.  Frames are assembled and made ready for use.

After meeting and greeting is done, Keith says, “Okay, let’s get this show on the road.”  The woman in each twosome who own a machine or frame moves to take her place as her top helps her into or onto it, removing whatever clothing is an impediment and fastening whatever is necessary to prevent the woman’s escape.  After securing the women into the devices, the tops’ primary activity is wielding cameras and video recorders to immortalize the scenes of the torment their victims are enduring.  Soon, the room is filled with the whirr of electric motors and the sounds of wood and leather striking flesh and the windy swish of canes stirring the air.  After a short while, there begin to be reaction sounds, the usual “ow,” “uhnnh,” and “that hurts,” until—everything goes dark.  And still.  And silent.

“Not to worry, everyone,” Keith reassures the group.  “Light is on the way.  I have the situation under control.”  His voice fades somewhat as he moves away from the living room toward the kitchen.

One of the men moves carefully toward the window and peeks around the drapery to observe a pitch dark neighborhood.  “Hey, y’all?  This whole area is dark, all the way to the statue on the square.  There are lights on the bridge, but none this side of it.

From the kitchen, the sound of a drawer being opened is heard, and the glow of a flashlight can be seen.  Its beam plays around the kitchen, and a cupboard is opened.  A larger and stronger beam of light enhances the original one, and Keith comes back into the living room with the stronger light source, placing it on the coffee table and aiming it at the ceiling.  It reflects off the white surface and gives a faint glow to the entire room.

“Well, now.  Where were we?” Keith asks the group.

“I’m trussed up like a Thanksgiving turkey, that’s where,” replies Dawn, the occupant of the Angel Maker.  “Get me out of this thing.”

“Coming, Dear,” says her husband Josh.  Other men begin undoing latches and straps and bindings to free their bottoms from the other machines.

“What a bummer,” exclaims Kim.  “I was looking forward to trying out Monica and Keith’s Hidetanner.  Now what are we going to do?  Go home?”

Monica responds, “I don’t see why.  We could all sit and talk, share stories about our favorite spanking times.”  She pauses, looking around the room with a mischievous

twinkle in her eye.  “Or there is another option.”

All eyes are on Monica as she continues.  “We could do it the old-fashioned way.”

Dawn asks, “Do you mean OTK?  That kind of old-fashioned?”

“What’s ‘OTK’?” a woman named Emily asks.

Kim answers, “It means ‘Over the knee.’  An old-fashioned hand spanking while lying across someone’s lap.  Or it could be with a paddle or strap of some kind.  That’s what spankos used years ago, before all this technology.”

“Hmmm,” Emily muses.  “That sounds a little creepy.  I don’t think I’d like that.  It sounds too—I’m not sure what.  Close?  Intimate?

“Well, it is intimate,” agrees Monica, “but I think you should try it before you dismiss it altogether.  Keith, why don’t you and I demonstrate?”

“Ah, My Sweet.  You have made me an offer I cannot refuse,” her husband says, smiling.  After seating himself on the sofa, he beckons Monica to stand in front of him.  He puts his thumbs in the waistband of her slacks and gently pulls them down to her knees.  The he pats his right thigh as a signal for her to lie across his lap.  She drapes herself across his legs, with her upper body and her legs supported by the sofa.  He begins to rub her bottom gently, over her satin panties.  Then he smacks her right cheek with the smallest amount of force.  Then the left.  Then both, in the middle.  He develops a rhythm, increasing the force a little, but not enough to elicit more than a contented “mmm” from Monica.  After a couple of minutes, he stops and hooks his fingers in the waistband of her panties and pulls them down.  She lifts herself off his thighs a few inches to help him get the undergarment down to her knees.  Then she settles back down on his lap so he can resume the spanking.  He increases the force of the spanks, bringing a deeper pink color to her bottom.  One smack leaves the prints of his fingers on her right upper thigh.  “Did that hurt?” he asks her.

“Mmmm.  Yes,” she replies.  “It feels good.  Why did we ever stop doing this?”

Keith pauses in his delivery of the smacks and rubs her bottom again.  “I don’t know.  This is much better than taking all those silly pictures and videos that just sit in the computer, never being looked at.  There’s just something about feeling the hot skin of your bottom under my hand.”

“Yes,” Monica agrees.  “And there’s something about feeling your warm, powerful, loving hand raining down on my bottom with such force.  I’d like to feel your belt, too.  Would you mind?”

“No, of course not,” Keith replies.  He stops spanking her and, being careful not to jostle her off his lap, unbuckles his belt and pulls it through the belt loops.

“I love that sound, Keith,” Monica tells him.

“Let’s see what else you love, My Love,” he answers.  He doubles the belt and brings it down on her pink-skinned bottom.

“Oww!  I think you mean business,” Monica exclaims.

“Well, you asked for it, right?” he teases.

“Yes, I asked for it,” she concurs.

“In so many words, right,” he prods, smiling.

“Yes, in so many words.”

“So, if it hurts, whose fault is that?” Keith asks.

“Hey, I didn’t say I didn’t like it.  I just said it hurts.  I like it very much, and you do a magnificent job,” she praises.  To the others watching, she says, “Hey, what’re the rest of you waiting for?

The spectators began pairing up, and the various bottoms lay across their tops’ laps.  In due course, the sound of palms and belts slapping skin overrode all other noises, each couple appearing isolated in their own little world.

Minutes passed, and then hours.  Later, after nearly all the guests had left, Monica found Jeremy sitting on the sofa in the half-light, with Kim seated on his lap, her arms around his neck as he held her close.  Monica sat down on the sofa near Jeremy.  “So, Kim, did you have a chance to try out our Hidetanner?”

Kim murmurs into Jeremy’s neck, “No, I didn’t get around to it.”

Monica observes, “You don’t look too disappointed about it.”

Kim lazily turns her gaze in Monica’s direction, a contented smile on her face.  “No, Monica,” she muses.  “I’m not disappointed at all.”

Best Laid Plans

 

Readers,

 

Well, damn.

What does a girl have to do to avoid yuk winter weather? Huh?

I’ve abstained from the Northeast and Midwest this winter, and done my best to pay close attention to the blue northers which seem to be just about everywhere this year.

So I figured that a trip to Atlanta and Charlotte this month would be doable. (Yes, I know that they had that freak snow in ATL a couple weeks ago, but that was FREAK -meaning : doesn’t happen often.)

If you haven’t figured out the gist of this post : I’m currently sitting in front of my Mac…in Las Vegas. Should’ve flown from Atlanta to Charlotte yesterday, and spent the next two days in lovely CLT. Instead, I took a last-minute, very very VERY expensive flight home from ATL late Monday night. A forecast of ‘ice pellets’ (what the hell is that, anyway?) in Atlanta and 5-8 inches of snow in Charlotte sent this Southern-bred gal right back to the Mojave desert, tootsweet!

Luckily, I had the opportunity to see and enjoy all my favorite friends in Not-hot-lanta, but, alas, have missed my pals in Charlotte. This is only the second time in all my travels that I’ve had to bypass a visit, and I’m torn – as much as I hate the nasty winter weather, I hate (almost) as much to miss seeing my playmates. (I’ll be back soon, you all…promise!)

I should take a moment here to rub in the fact that skies here in Las Vegas are blue, windows are open, and there’s a nice cool breeze…

–  Dana

1000 Strokes Video : Angel Gives Til It Hurts!

 

Everyone,

I’m pleased to say that our Give Til it Hurts raffle winner has been kind enough to share his exclusive video of Angel receiving 1000 swats for charity – and we’ll be making it available for download on Clips4Sale and SpankingLibrary.com. Yay! 

As before, every cent collected from the sale of this video will be donated to animal charities, and I’ll post regular updates on this as well as other fundraising endeavors.

Look for the video later this week in my download stores.

Here’s a preview shot of Angel in her pink dropseat bunny pj’s, taking 1000 for the Team.

1000GiveTilItHurts

–  Dana

‘Future Spank’ Story Contest Winner!

 

Readers,

Well! I have to say that I’m surprised at the number of entries that the Future Spank story contest garnered, each of them very well-written and imaginative. This was, even more than usual, a difficult choice. Thanks to everyone who entered their original work, and please do take a moment to comment on the stories so that our authors know you’ve enjoyed them.

–  Dana

 

And the winner is….

 

 

Jake Sees the Light

It was the light Jake noticed first. Walking up the gangplank and into the belly of an enormous metallic vessel filled with a myriad of wonders never before viewed by a human eye, it was the brightness of the light he noticed most. How long had it been since he had seen electric light? Twelve years? Fifteen? Somewhere between the first strike and the rapid depletion of the fossil fuels that followed, electricity had gone from common…to privileged… to extinct.

The entrance ramp continued upwards towards an open corridor where two Clairian women awaited him. They both wore one-piece uniforms, white and sleek. Snug enough to accentuate the fitness of the bodies beneath yet without losing the formality of militia. Guards he suspected, or perhaps some type of ship security force. They greeted him by name without offering their own.

“Welcome to Clairian Forces Resolution Craft Number Seven Mr. Karnes. Captain Erica has been expecting you. Right this way please”.

The two women escorted him down a series of further corridors, each one as bright and sterile as the next. The final hallway ended in front of a door much larger and much more ornate than any they had previously passed. Jake made the assumption this was their destination. Such grandeur clearly marked a place of importance.  A captain’s chambers.

He awaited their next move, expecting one of them to knock on the doors or verbally announce arrival. Both women stood motionless. After a brief silence Jake realized they were both looking towards him. His eyes met the gaze of both women. Neither of them spoke or offered any visual clue as to why they had stopped moving. After a moment the guard to his left gave her partner a knowing smile and the shrug of her shoulders. She reached forward and drew open the doors ushering all of them into the awaiting room.

The room was a contrast to everything Jake had witnessed on the ship thus far. This room was alive in color and texture. It was more reminiscent of an apartment than a space craft. The floors were covered in what appeared to be rubber-like tiles. Even through his shoes, Jake could feel the comfort of the material. There was furniture and appliances and all the trimmings of a living space. Photos and art hung stylishly on walls finished in warm hues of browns and blues.

The captain of the ship was sitting at a workstation. Her attire was similar to the guards, however hers appeared to be two-piece, black pants and a white top with the insignia of the ship on a crest just to the left of the neckline. She was older than the guards, heavier in stature, what Jake’s father would have referred to as big boned. Still her curves and femininity were clearly evident. She was viewing a monitor that was anchored to the desk. Her eyes briefly acknowledged their entry, and then just as quickly returned to the screen. Through a headset she spoke in a language Jake had never heard. After a brief dialogue into the device, she motioned one of the guards to approach. The guard stepped forward offering salute. The captain rose and nodded in response.

“Captain Erica. This is the man we were instructed to escort to your presence.”

Jake took a step towards the desk and offered his hand. “Good morning Erica. I’m Jake Kar…”

Captain Erica cut his words short, interrupting him mid-sentence.

“One moment Mr. Karnes. I am not yet done speaking with my team.” She extended a single finger that motioned for his silence, and returned her attention to the guards. “Thank you both for seeing our guest here. Is there anything else?”

Jake was more than flustered by the manner the woman had treated him. He was certainly not accustomed to being spoken down to; especially in the presence of what were clearly a couple of subordinate staff members. He could feel a twinge of resentment and the heat of a blush come to his face. He fought to remind himself of the importance of the meeting and hoped none of the women saw his discomfort. If they had, they certainly didn’t show any reaction to it.

The guard who had opened the door stepped forward. Once again in a dialect foreign to Jake (what he now assumed their native tongue) she spoke a few sentences to her captain. The captain was momentarily stoic. She glanced intently in Jake’s direction before uttering a response directed to the younger women. Both guards smiled, nodded and with a final salute were gone.

Jake once again made to speak. And once again was treated to the flat palm of the ship’s captain.

“One more moment please Mr. Karnes. We are about to begin the decontamination of the surface. I need to finalize procedure co-ordinates with my engineering department. You may make yourself comfortable in the sitting area”

She motioned Jake towards a small table and chairs deeper in the cabin and without further discussion returned to her seat behind the monitor.

Jake felt his face grow even warmer. Go ahead lady. Get your radiation vacuums sucking. Then we can sit down and we’ll get a few things straight about protocol and political respect. He made his way to the table area. Perhaps the curiosity in what he found there might help to sedate his irate state of mind.

The table was wood, kind of…and maybe a plastic too. It was a material he had never encountered before. The majority of the furnishings were constructed of the same type of hybrid median. The vibrant artwork was done on what looked like a type of frameless cloth. Along the wall was a stone fireplace were a blue flame burned with no apparent source of fuel. All of it was mysterious and just as equally fascinating. Perhaps most fascinating was the item lying on the mantle above the hearth.

Sitting alone on the warm stone was what looked like an antique implement of some sort. What it was he wasn’t quite sure. Perhaps twelve inches in length, and three wide, with the exception of what looked like a narrower handle area on one end, it resembled a cross between a cooking device and perhaps a sporting racket. Whatever it was, it certainly showed plenty of wear. It looked like real wood…and it looked old.

He was startled out of his trance by the voice from behind him. “It’s called Living Wood. It’s considered sacred on my planet. You will learn more about it I’m sure Mr. Karnes. Your kind is always enthralled with that item. Welcome to my vessel.”

Jake shook the hand she was offering. Her grip was warm and firm.

“My kind Erica? My understanding was that I am the first human to board the ship?”

“I was not referring to your race. I was referring to your gender.” She replied with a smile. “And you have referred to me as Erica twice now Mr Karnes.  I am the captain of an interstellar spacecraft here to try to make your planet more inhabitable.  You will address me as Captain Erica or Ma’am. Sit please.”

There was that condescending tone in her voice again. It was time for him to nip this in the bud. He took a seat at the table across from her. Back straight and shoulders square, he folded his hands neatly in front of himself and spoke in a firm voice that reflected the confidence of his body language. “Very well…Captain Erica…on that note, perhaps we can begin with setting some mutual expectations.”

“Indeed Mr. Karnes. Do you know why we, why I, summoned you to this meeting today?”

“I would have to assume it is because of my experience with diplomatic affairs. I expect that I would serve to act as a liaison between our two peoples.”

“Partly correct Mr. Karnes. You were chosen because of all the profiles available to us, on what passes for leadership on this planet, yours showed the greatest potential to communicate our mandate to your fellow humans.”

“Mandate? My understanding is your mandate was quite clear. Your ships have the capacities to remove radioactive waste from our planet’s atmosphere and surface.”

“Again, only partly correct.” She smiled once more. “Tell me Mr. Karnes, you received a file along with your invitation to enter this ship. Have you read it fully?”

And once again Jake was back on the defensive. “No, not in its entirety. I must admit my policy with written material is that most often any pertinent information comes to light during verbal discussions. You must understand that with all the activity arising from your impending visit, my agenda was beyond full these past few days….”

His feeble reply brought her smile to the point of being a chuckle. “And I Mr. Karnes, do not have much time to devote to incompetence. I do however believe I will be able to expedite to you the purpose of our time together here today. Can I ask you to please bring me that paddle you are so intrigued by.”

The last part of her statement was not so much a request as it was a command. Jake wasn’t totally comfortable with that. But he was also mentally backpedaling about his neglect to read the documents.  He humored her and retrieved the wooden piece. What had she called it? A paddle? As he retrieved it, Captain Erica pushed her chair away from the table.

“No, not on that side. Bring it here to me. Come stand by my side.”

Jake was quickly losing any control of the debate. Her authoritative manner had him acting like a schoolboy rather than seasoned diplomat. He awkwardly followed her command and after handing her the paddle, remained standing in front of her chair.

“Good boy. Now lower your pants and under garments and place yourself across my knee.”

“Wha…” Jake was flabbergasted, understanding now the purpose of the implement and her intended use of it. “Erica, I am a representative of the United World on a serious mission. I assure you that I have no intentions of…”

This time it was a hard slap across his face that interrupted his sentence. He held his hand to his stinging cheek in disbelief and looked into the face of the woman seated calmly before him. Her eyes were locked to his.

“What you are is an egotistical little man who was given a simple task. An assignment I dare say that his arrogance prevented him from doing properly. Had you done your prescribed work, this conversation would be going much more productively for both of us. Had you read your briefing file you would have understood that the moment you entered this ship you became subject to Clarian laws. I am the captain of this vessel Mr Karnes. I therefore am the law. Your fate has been determined. You have two simple choices that surly even a being as pig headed as yourself can understand. You can do as I instruct willingly or I can summon my guards and they will do it forcefully. I care not either way…but my will shall be done. Now remove your clothing and get over my knee.”

Her words stunned Jake much deeper than the slap to the face had. Numbed by the force of her statements, he doubted he could have spoke even had he wanted to. He did not speak. He cast his eyes to the floor as trembling fingers slowly unbuckled and peeled down the lower potions of his clothing. He gave no resistance as she guided him across her awaiting lap.

“A very wise choice I assure you. Now let’s get down to work shall we?”

In a well practiced manner, the Captain adjusted his position to best suit her purpose. He had given himself to her…exactly as she knew he would. Men were the most predictable of beings. Big and brave at the onset, he was now putty in her hands to do with as she pleased. And she certainly intended to make sure he completely understood who was in command. She griped him around the waist with her left hand as she whisked his pants and underwear to his ankles with the right. Content with her preparations, she picked the paddle up and laid two swift and firm strokes to the center of his buttocks.

“Do I have your complete attention now Mr. Karnes?”

“Yes Ma’am”

She smiled. This was going to go well indeed. She laid on four more spanks to the same area of his behind.  “Very good answer. Had you read your files, you would have understood that no male is permitted to address any Clarion female without using her proper title. Mine, as I told you, is Captain Erica or Ma’am. Failure to use either when speaking to me will earn you demerits. Furthermore you will speak to me only when spoken to. Is this understood?”

She accentuated the question with more spanks.

“Ouch, ouch…yes Ma’am.”

“Very good. Now Mr. Karnes I intend to give you a very sound spanking. But first, for your benefit, I will give a brief history on Clarion culture. Ours is a very ancient race. We have travelled space for longer than your earth has known life. We have visited and studied countless planets. Do you know what our travels gave us Mr. Karnes?”

She waited briefly for a reply. When it did not come she applied two sharp blows.

“Ouch, ow. No Ma’am”

“Perhaps you are not as quick a study as I thought. What we learned was that unlike your human’s colorful interpretations of little green men from Mars, most life forms in the galaxies are actually humanoid. The other thing we ascertained was that almost seventy percent of worlds hosting life were ruled predominantly by the male of the species. The male…imagine Mr. Karnes. We also determined that almost one-hundred percent of those male dominated societies had a habit of ending in ruins. Are you still following me?”

“Yes Ma’am.” He was quick to answer. She smiled again.

“It seems that when men were left to rule, their foolish nature showed the way to war and poverty that eventually resulted in situations similar to what you have here on this planet. In contrast, the female lead planets thrive and excel by comparison. The gist of it Mr. Karnes is that the people of Clarion, men and women alike, came to the conclusion that entrusting leadership to the female gender would ensure the optimum  development of our planet. And so it has. Again forgive me for the brevity of my history lesson. The report you were given holds a much more detailed outlining of the events that brought us to where we are as a people today. I am sure you are going to be eager to read it at your earliest convenience…aren’t you?”

This time the question was immediately followed with a dozen very hard swats to his rear.

“Yes Ma’am, ow, please, yes Ma’am”

“What we have developed is a society where men pledge their obedience and respect to their mates and are expected to live up that promise. When they fail Mr. Karnes, they find themselves in the exact position you now find yourself in.”

With that she fell silent. She temporally sat down the paddle as she allowed for the measure of her words to sink in and for the anticipation to build in his mind.  She understood the importance of that anticipation to the male psyche. She permitted herself an opportunity to caress and explore the bottom aimed so vulnerably ready for her ministrations with the paddle. She had tanned many a naughty male behinds and she had full intention to blister this one very well. When she felt him begin to shift with tension across her lap, she picked the paddle up once more.

“Do not attempt to get up. Try to keep your hands and feet on the floor. Minor pleading is acceptable. If it becomes excessive you will be given more demerits.”

And without further adieu the Captain got to the task at hand. She spanked him. She began on his upper cheeks, first one side then the other working a consistent pattern until she reached the crease where butt met thigh. After a couple blows to the tops of his legs, her paddle would then make the return journey, this time from bottom to top…only to begin the entire process again. Over and over, back and forth, back and forth, up and down, up and down. Despite Jakes continual stream of “ouches” and “ows” she calmly and consistently delivered a good hundred strokes to his bucking and twisting behind before pausing.

“Yes Mr. Karnes, it hurts doesn’t it?”

The two strokes he received for once more failing to answer were hard enough to bring him to the edge of tears.

“Oh, yes Ma’am”

“We call it Living Wood because it almost physically bonds with the person holding it Mr. Karnes. The mood and the emotion of that person become reflected in the wood itself. It’s amazing really. It is like the paddle senses the intentions of the woman wielding it and adjusts its weight and force to best achieve the woman’s desired effect. For instance a woman can put the same amount of force into two different spankings, but if she is angry, the spanking delivered while angry is applied much more severely by the paddle. Simply amazing. Perhaps I should demonstrate. Let me think about the way your arrogance angers me.”

With that she resumed the paddling and Jake instantly felt the difference in the blows. The paddle was snapping into him with considerably more force. Enough to bring tears to his eyes…and quiet sobs to his throat. The spanking was no longer coming with any discernible pattern. Sometimes it would be back and forth, back and forth, and then she would land several times all on one cheek or even on one spot. Jake was struggling to keep his position. He felt like he was on fire. He was pleading now, begging for her to stop the relentless assault on his posterior. She was speaking again. She didn’t stop spanking but did slow in pace with the majority of the strokes landing intentionally near the crease of his tender sit spot.

“Your inexperience with being disciplined prevents your noticing (spank), but the Living Wood is also reacting with you (spank). Had I been using any other type of wood (spank) your bottom would have long since become somewhat numb, thus lessening the effect of each blow (spank). The Living Wood prevents that (spank), reducing any dulling of the spanking what so ever. The result (spank), is that every stroke hurts (spank) just (spank) as much (spank) as the (spank) one (spank) before (spank) (spank) (spank).”

The last sentence came with a flurry of paddling that broke all remnants of Jakes resolve. With a great sobbing heave, he slumped like a ragdoll across her lap and cried freely without reservation.

‘I’m sorry Ma’am. Please Captain Erica, I’m sorry…I’ll be good.”

The Captain continued with another dozen resounding spanks before ceasing again.

“There, there. That’s a good boy.”

And she meant it. He had taken his punishment well, without excessive fussing and was clearly contrite and remorseful as he sobbed quietly across her knee. His bottom was radiating with a deep shade of red. The part he sat on displayed purplish bruising and a few small blisters. He would remember this session each time he sat for at least a week. And that was the point after all. To learn. To repent. To behave.

As she slowly rubbed the paddle across the surface of his inflamed behind, Jake began to react in a much different fashion. His sobbing melded into a low moan.

“What you are feeling now Mr. Karnes is another attribute of the Living Wood. Just as it can reflect anger and frustration, it can also reflect compassion and caring. In the hands of an understanding and loving woman it can also deliver much pleasure to a bottom. I can assure you both men and women can come to appreciate this.”

She abruptly removed the paddle from his behind. She did respect him for the way he had accepted her discipline. It was out of that respect that she knew she must make sure his spanking was memorable enough to improve his behaviour moving forward.

“However your pleasure is not the purpose at hand. I believe you have leaned a good lesson thus far. A lesson that will benefit us both. Now I must ensure that lesson is remembered for a good time to come. And then unfortunately we have your demerits to account for”

She methodically went back to her original pattern of paddling, back and forth and up and down, encompassing his entire crimsoned behind. Jake resigned himself to taking the spanking with as little resistance as possible. Sensing her intention, and his repentance, the paddle fell just hard enough to drive the point home.

When finally she felt he had been spanked enough, she released her grip on his waist and instructed him to stand and bend over the back of the chair. He compiled without question, not eager to reignite her wrath. He doubted he would ever be able to defy the Clarion captain again. Her wish would be his command. Perhaps there was certain rightness about that.

For her part, Captain Erica was pleased. She knew he would be very attentive to her needs moving forward. She would give him an hour to read the report, and then instruct him to contact the wife of each member of Earth’s Leadership Council. She would start with them. The ship’s cargo hold contained enough Living Wood paddles for every woman on earth.

She went back to her work station and returned with a slender cane. As she flexed it in her hands she instructed Jake on what would constitute the completion of his punishment.

“Had you read our report, your session would be over now. In a few minutes, when we are finished with your lesson, you will read it. You will find a complete list of infractions that will warrant you demerits. You have earned several today. Each demerit is punishable with three strokes from the cane. You will receive three for failure to open a door for a woman, and another nine for not addressing me by my proper title on three separate occasions. Place your hands flatly on the seat of the chair. If you remove them before you are given permission, your punishment will begin anew and an additional three strokes will be added on. Do you understand?”

“Yes Ma’am, Captain Erica.”

“Very nice Mr. Karnes. Do you have any other questions before I begin?”

“Ma’am, is the cane made from Living Wood also?”

Captain Erica chuckled and took her position behind him. Tapping the cane on the lower portion of his bottom she replied “No, it’s just plain old rattan. Some things of your earth need no improvement.”

She pulled back her arm to continue Jake’s lesson…..

End

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Give Til it Hurts Raffle #1 Winner!

And the winner is….

Our lucky winner will receive a lovely and evil set of Caneiac implements as well as an exclusive custom video of Angel receiving a swat for every dollar donated!

Keep reading for all the information on donors, helpers, and the beautiful animals who’ve benefitted from the raffle.

 

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In total, we raised $1000 for animals in need! I’m terribly impressed and forever in the debt of every one of you.

Donations from this raffle have supported several organizations and animals. Below, a list of recipients from the Give Til it Hurts Raffle #1:

 

Raven Woods Animal Sanctuary : $400

Raven Woods is a no-kill animal shelter (mostly dogs with a few cats) in rural Roseland, Louisiana. Caring for approximately 200 rescued animals and operating strictly on personal income and donations, the folks at RavenWoodsRescue.org can use our help year ’round.

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Raven Woods – Minnie Mouse

 

Guardians of Rescue : $200

This donation was made to Guardians of Rescue for a specific case : the dogs of Olympic Animal Sanctuary. Kept in terrible squalor, these 124 dogs have been saved and are in the process of being rehabilitated by the good people at GoR and the folks who run the RUFFF facility in Arizona. RUFFF itself, in a very rural area along the NV/AZ border, houses around 300 rescued animals year round.

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GoR and RUFFF : The Olympic dogs

 

Rescue Ranch : $100

The Rescue Ranch serves as a low-cost/free spay and neuter organization to approximately 1/3 of the state of Georgia – most of these counties don’t even have animal services divisions. RR is responsible for thousands of spay/neuter and TNR’s annually.

 

 Blind Cat Rescue : $100

The name says it all. Homed in North Carolina, Blind Cat Rescue shelter is a haven for sightless kitties and those with feline fiv/hiv who would have otherwise been euthanized. A beautiful organization and a bunch of gorgeous cats.

BCR - Chester the wonder kitten
BCR – Chester the wonder kitten

 

Community Cat Coalition of Clark County : $100

The ‘C5’ is an all-volunteer organization tackling the problems of over 200,000 feral cats in Clark County, Nevada. With spay/neuter, TNR, feral colony support, and numerous other humane outreach programs, C5 is up against a herculean task and working hard.

 

Fund A Pet Miracle : $50

FundAPetMiracle.com is a site dedicated to raising funds for individual animals’ needs. We contributed fifty dollars to Blue’s medical bills. Blue the Pitbull has had a tough life, but the folks at Animal Aid for Vermilion Area Rescue are making sure he gets the best care and a great future…

Beautiful Blue
Beautiful Blue

 

Becky’s Hope : $50 

Becky’s Hope Horse Rescue in Texas rescues and rehabilitates abused and neglected horses. Expenses for this type of large animal rescue run very high, and we’ll be revisiting this organization in future fundraisers.

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Becky’s Hope – Dreamer

 

** Please feel free to check out these organizations online, for yourself, and see all the great work they’re doing. You just may be compelled to help a bit more…

 

Huge, enormous, gigantic thanks to everyone who donated. Below, a list of pseudonyms for all the generous folks who participated. You’re ALL animal heroes! (Participants are asked to choose a pseudonym, for discretion.):

 

Kalman   $100

Robin   $100

Lab Saver   $25

Dana’s World Record Holder   $50

Oldog   $25

Guardian Angel   $360

Rigel   $100

Randy Lee   $15

Edmonton Spanko   $100

Puggybear   $50

Arrogant Brat   $50

Dante   $25

 

Also, to everyone who blogged, tweeted, FB’d, linked, and shared – networking is powerful, and we couldn’t have raised this much for animal charities without you, either. Below, folks who helped spread the word (please forgive any unintentional exclusions here):

Angel

Secret Spanko

Erica Scott

Cheyenne Jewel

Bright Bottom

Kristian Comes Undone

Someone’s Gonna Get It

Chross Blog

Spanked Hortic

Jerry Bear

 

Extra Super Enormous thanks to the wonderful folks at Cane-iac for donating the set of evil spanking implements, and to our sweet Angel for participating in the video prize!!

 

** NOTE : Neither I nor Dana Kane Films are in any way affiliated with any particular rescue group or organization. By donating to their causes, we neither request nor expect their endorsement. The publishing of names of organizations in receipt of donated funds is done only in the name of full disclosure.

** All donation receipts are available for viewing by anyone who requests them. There will never be any question as to whether every cent donated has gone to deserving charities.

** There are payment processing fees associated with both receiving donations as well as turning those around and giving them to the appropriate orgs. This usually amounts to about ten percent of total donation amount. I cover these fees personally, so that the full amount donated goes into the hands of the charities.

 

Another VBB Product Testing video : Evil Sticks (on the thighs!)

 

This Product Testing video was shot immediately following the prior, Black Master Senior Paddle, scene, so the VBB was definitely feeling it by the time this was over.

However, since his bottom’s famously tough, I’ve decided to test these awful little things from Caneiac on the backs of his thighs, instead. We (I) have a lot of fun figuring out the best way to swing ’em!

 

A Naughty Young Man’s Punishment

 

Twenty-plus years ago, when I was trying to figure out the best way to make money for records, candy, and the occasional movie ticket, it never occurred to me to attempt babysitting. Having to slog over to some semi-stranger’s house in the late evening hours to sit around on their furniture, eat their weird food, and watch over their annoying if terribly cute progeny? Yeah, no thanks. I’d rather just take the 60/40 chance on begging extra hard for an early allowance allotment.

But things are a bit different now, as I’m no longer desperate for Smarties and Molly Ringwald films, so there are better choices. Now when I babysit, it’s a fun frolic through round-the-clock roleplay with who are, quite possibly, some of the naughtiest adult boys and girls ever. A recent sleepover found the boy in question having his coloring book tossed into the hallway for housekeeping to pick up. It’s tough being a firm and loving caretaker, but I do my very best given the terrible state of most of my charges’ manners.

The point of all this is to set the backdrop for a public shaming earned by previous mentioned boy. After some particularly surly behavior during his babysitting time, he was assigned a report on ‘How to Be Nice to Miss Dana’….

 

which has not been turned in on time.

 

Said young man knew that there would be consequences if his assignment was not finished on time, and one of those is contained here. When he reads this, along with all of you, he’ll learn that his first punishment is to go DIRECTLY to the nearest corner, where he will stand for exactly fifteen minutes. (Are you getting this? I mean right now, mister.) He has further 24 hours to complete the assignment or will be rewarded with 100 strokes of the spencer paddle for his inability to follow instructions.

I hope that this, in addition to further instructions on Good Manners and Proper Behavior, affects an immediate change for the better.

If not, well…that’ll be fun, too.

 

–  Dana

 

Give til it Hurts Raffle drawing coming soon!

 

Angel will arrive end of this month, and while she’s here we’ll video both the raffle drawing and the exclusive 1000 stroke video.

The winner will have the option to either retain the video solely for him or herself, or to allow distribution in which all proceeds will also go to animal charities.

We’re getting very excited about the drawing and have our fingers tightly crossed for everyone who donated. While only one can win the prize, every single participant made a difference through their actions.

Also very exciting will be the announcement of all the worthy animal heroes who’ve received our fundraising donations….$1000 in all! You’ll love reading about these wonderful organizations and all the great work they’re doing, every day, to improve the welfare of animals in need.

Thanks again, so much, to you all.

 

–  Dana

New eBook! Mostly True Stories : Adventures in Discipline

 

Readers,

After some consideration as to heft, I’ve decided to publish ‘Mostly True Stories’ for eReader formats. This first volume contains a few slightly altered yet very real-life short stories from my exploits as a gleeful spanker of adult boys and girls.

 

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The first, ‘Mostly True Stories : Adventures in Discipline’ is now available. Containing four previously unpublished short stories:

I Wasn’t Expecting That

All in the Name of Science

What Were You Thinking?

A Wife’s Frustration

Available both through Smashwords HERE and Amazon/Kindle HERE.

Around 9 thousand words, and priced at $2.99, this small edition of short stories is my first foray into storytelling. If it’s well-received, I’ll expand the concept to either a lengthier version or several volumes. 

As always, I’m interested in your feedback. Leave comments below or email me at danakanespanks@gmail.com.

 

–  Dana

 

Spank Fail

 

Readers, Spankos, Consumers, I implore you….think before you shop.

 

 

A friend sent me this link, kind of a ‘What do you think about this’ type thing, and I sent back something along the lines of ‘Looks interesting, will investigate’.

I’m always interested in new implements, ideas, and gadgets, so I took a look at the above video advertising a small machinated spanking machine. It was disappointing. Not interested in bashing anyone’s mechanics or business here, but this spanking machine looks just pitiful for real purposes.

I’ve seen some of the larger robo-spanker machines in action and, while they at least deliver a ‘real whack’, all these gadgets leave me somewhat cold.

So there’s really nothing wrong with buying this thing – maybe you’ll even enjoy it as a strictly novelty thing – but if you have to work as hard as that poor girl in the video for your spanking then it’s probably best you just reach around there and do it yourself.

–  Dana

PS. I guess that’s really the point of this post :

Does anyone use these spanking machines? And, if so, what is the level of real enjoyment without human contact?

New Spanking Story Contest : Future Spank

 

Readers,

In celebration of the new year and all the ones to come, the theme for this month’s spanking story writing contest is..

The Future

No, not like next month, smartass. Think a bit farther ahead. Think flying cars or living on Mars or robots that are programmed to dole out spankings; think about what the world will be in the distant future, and then figure out how to tell a good spanking story within it.

We see and read a whole bunch of ‘olde tyme’ spanking stories and ‘best of the 50’s’ stuff – let’s see what you can do without the concepts of current tradition.

I’ve come to rely on the creativity and veracity of these writing contest entrants for their abilities to weave an amazingly believable spanking story out of just about any situation they’re given, so I’ll be very interested to see what our intrepid authors come up with for this one.

As always, the winner – chosen solely by me and based on no specific criteria – will receive as his or her prize a free spanking session with me, either here in Las Vegas or any of the other cities to which I regularly travel.

 

And also as always, a few things to remember before you start writing:

 

  • Absolutely no characters or mention of characters under the age of 18. The occasional ‘like a little boy’ is acceptable, but best to keep it to a minimum.
  • Same goes for explicit genital, sexual, or graphic language references. This is about the backside, not the front side – keep it clean, please.
  • Characters may be of any gender, and spankings may be of any genre – feel free to include as many or few characters as you like.
  • Entries are not judged on length, but attention to spelling, grammar, capitalization, and the et cetera, certainly matters.
  • Contest ends January 31, 2014.
  • By entering your story to the contest, you agree to allow me to share/excerpt it here and elsewhere.
  • All entries may be emailed to me, either in the body of the email or as an attachment, at danakanespanks@gmail.com.

Now, get writing – and good luck!

 

–  Dana

Spanking PSA : Tops have Hard Limits, too

 

It’s well-discussed that spankees should learn, know, and protect their Hard Limits – the things in which they are not interested in participating. I always want to know what my playmates like and don’t like, but I’m most interested in their Hard Limits. I don’t touch those – don’t even graze ’em. It’s important, at least to my mind, for those in my hands to know that, even though they’re likely in for a tough time, they can trust that I won’t go ‘there’…wherever ‘there’ is for them. 

So if someone tells me that canes are an absolute no-no for them, then they may rest assured that I will never, but never, strike them with one. If that same person has an aversion to complete nudity, they may, albeit against my better judgment, remain partially clothed at all times. Trust is fragile, you shouldn’t mess about with it. I get that. I also respect the wishes of others, possibly sometimes to a fault, as I’ve gathered on more than one occasion that a playmate was somehow hoping that I would use the information against them. I get it – the notion that your top would exceed your Hard Limit is probably a high-ranking bottom fantasy – but it’s not gonna happen. At least not here.

Conversely, there are some other things which aren’t gonna happen here because they’re MY Hard Limits. These things really have very little to do with you and what you desire (isn’t that horribly selfish of me?), and at this point in my play experience are pretty damn universal.

Without further adieu, my Hard Limits :

 

1. BDSM

Let me be clear here – I am in no way knocking S&M. Some of my best friends are dominatrices, and that’s not a punchline. However, and to be completely frank, I suck at it. I’ve tried – trust me, I’ve tried. But the clothes are restrictive and sweaty, I’m not coordinated enough to swing a single tail, and – most importantly – humiliation is NOT my forte’. The gadgets required to properly torture genitalia appear to be very expensive and extremely fiddly to operate, and I’ve no idea what the curve is on CBT Operator Error. Bondage is pretty but most knot-work renders the buttock area inaccessible, totally killing the rest of the evening for me. Also, I’m never sure what exactly I’m supposed to do to you once I get you tied up like a roast pig. And how long before the circulation to your ears cuts off, anyway?

Of course, I DO love to hit people, and don’t necessarily mind if that doesn’t always occur on the rear, but…

 

2.  I will not cane/paddle/otherwise-strike-with-a-hard-object the inside of your thighs.

Why?

Google ‘femoral artery’.

 

3. For basically the same sane medical reasoning as #2, I will not strike your hands/palms/wrists with anything larger or more lethal than a balsa wood ruler.

Look, there’s a reasonable expectation of discomfort and, in many cases, even the expectation of marking or bruising. But when it comes right down to it, I have absolutely no interest whatsoever in actually injuring you. I don’t care whether it’s okay with you or not – it’s not okay with me. 

The buttocks are a gladly-placed mass of overlapping muscles, fat, and bazillions of teeny little nerve endings. No organs. No bones. No major blood vessels leading directly to the brain. You know, your usual non-lethal ass area. And with the right conditioning, an area which can handle quite a lot of impact, up to and including skin abrasions, repeatedly, and with no ill effect (when cared for properly). Most other areas of the body hold no such distinction, so I prefer to keep the extra-posterior impact to a minimum.

( ** Disclaimer : This doesn’t mean that I won’t slap your face if you get mouthy…I just won’t do it really, really hard.)

 

4. Humiliation

We touched on this in #1, but it definitely deserves it’s own numeral. I do NOT ‘do’ humiliation. Embarrassment, yes; shaming, definitely. But not humiliation.

(I am using my own personal definition of humiliation here, which may or may not jibe with your own.) To me, the difference between humiliation and embarrassment lies in the intent – am I providing you with positive or negative feedback? Example : You’ve eaten all the candy after I’ve told you it’s for everyone. Humiliation would, to my mind, sound like this : “You sick pig! I can’t even look at you – you nauseate me. You’ll sleep on the floor like a dog tonight.” (Told you I suck at it.) On the other hand, embarrassment feels more like : “You ate all that candy? After I told you not to? What am I going to do with you? Don’t come crying to me when you get a stomachache.”

Make sense?

I cannot say nasty things to you. I cannot try to hurt your feelings, make you feel bad about yourself. Can’t even fake it. Say what you want, but there’s enough negativity in each of our minds already without having someone plant bad crap there while your brain’s all wide open. I’d rather be a ‘cheerleader’, thankyouverymuch.

 

5.  It’s really, really, REALLY not okay to touch my ass. Ever.

Ever.

 

–  Dana

Give til it Hurts Raffle Update!

 

** Raffle Closed  –  See Comments Box for Info  –  Raffle Closed **

 

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Current Fundraising Total : $640

That’s six hundred and forty swats to Angel thus far, and I’m hoping to see a number that makes us BOTH nervous by the time we’re done at the end of January.

Nearly halfway through our first Give Til it Hurts charity raffle, and I am genuinely touched (and somewhat blown away) by the generosity of spirit so many have already shown.

I want each and every person who’s participated in any way to understand that you’ve had a direct impact on the well-being of your fellow inhabitants of this planet, and that’s something about which you should be very proud.

 

At raffle’s end, I’ll be posting a list of donor’s pseudonyms, sharers, and organizations in receipt of donations.

Conversations with Spankos Ch. 26 : The Vault

 

Readers,

I’m going to begin this post with a Seinfeld reference, so all those under the age of thirty may take time now to do a google search on it…go ahead, we’ll wait…all caught up? Okay, here we go.

When Jerry, George, and Elaine wanted to express to one another that they were worthy of keeping what may be a very big secret, they’d say ‘I’ll put it in the vault.’ Meaning obvious : the information you’re considering sharing with me is locked away tightly and only I have the key. The great thing about Seinfeld was that things very rarely managed to stay in anybody’s vault for very long and, at the appropriate moment, much hilarity would ensue.

This low-security-secret-keeping is rarely humorous, however, when folks open their vaults in real life – yet it is something which happens all the time, to every one of us at some point(s). We tell someone something which is labeled Secret and they tell someone else, usually keeping the label the same – Secret – which means that the person they just told is supposed to hold him or herself to a higher standard than the vault-opener. But then that person disregards the label also and eventually, rather than hilarity, all hell ensues.

When the information that’s un-vaulted is of a, say, adult nature, the consequences can be catastrophic.

I’ve heard stories about folks in the kink/spanking/bdsm scene who’ve had their vaulted information shared, sometimes with a vengeance and sometimes by mere ignorant chance. The term usually used is ‘outed’, just the same as when someone’s sexual or gender orientation is shared without consent. 

Talking to an acquaintance recently reminded me of just how much most folks with a kinky bend are risking every single time they make contact, of any kind, with another person. Every person in her life knew different things about her – some had no idea that there was any kink of any kind whatsoever ever ever and thought she was just as ‘normal’ as them (whatever that is), and some were rightfully curious/suspicious about a few unusual occurrences or comments they’d overheard, while some were in the loop enough to know that she did some ‘wild’ stuff every now and then. What a juggling routine it seemed to me, and how to decide where to position each new person in life – how to decide how much they should know – and when to be oh-so-very careful with someone who is nosier than all hell.

I’m not so much interested in why people have to separate their kink from the rest of their lives – I get it. My question is : How does it FEEL to have to guard your vault, to decide who’s worthy of a peek and who to trust with the key? What can another person do to insure that you can trust them with your secrets? And how likely do you think it is that you’ll be un-vaulted?

 

–  Dana