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‘My Birthday Spanking’ Story Entry: F/M Spanking Stories



Readers,


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

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



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

– Dana

*****


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


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



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

*****



STUART’S SURPRISE BIRTHDAY SPANKING


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


The End.

Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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Spanking PSA: Professional Etiquette

Readers,


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


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


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


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


This is about your backside, not your front side.


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


That seems very simple, doesn’t it?


Just in case, here are a couple examples:


Example #1: The Bad Email Example


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


Example #2: The Good Email Example


Hello Ms Kane,


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


Regards,
Joe
###-###-####


– Dana

Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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‘A Perfect Spanking Storm’ : A true story, by the VBB

Readers,


I won’t lie – the VBB nearly won this round.  
He was at his super-bratty best, and his Wonderful Wife and I fairly exhausted ourselves in the effort to subdue his behavior. This ‘topping from the bottom’ may seem fairly obvious in retrospect, but it took nearly an hour for it to sink in to us that day…the VBB was messing with our heads.
There we were, working our disciplinarian fingers to the bone, while his brattiness continued to escalate. (It should go without saying that this boy has an exceptional pain threshold to back up his smart-ass comments, so our playtimes are much more intense than the average spanking enthusiast would or could endure.)
After a bit of consideration, I decided that we’d need to take stronger measures if we were to regain control of the situation. 


From the VBB:

A Perfect Spanking Storm


It was a perfect spanking storm; two determined and unwavering disciplinarians, one feisty VBB, an unusually higher pain tolerance, a spanking challenge and the emergence of a very bratty inner child. It seems as though the spanking stars and planets were perfectly aligned and the spanking gods had given their blessings for this perfect storm to take place. In its wake was left a trail of utter destruction; five broken implements, two exhausted disciplinarians with one sustaining a bruised leg, an extremely inflamed, bruised, and throbbing backside, two sore feet, two aching nipples and one sincerely remorseful VBB. It was a day to remember, a day which will probably never happen again, a day which no one came out the winner and nothing was settled. It was a day which each of us will remember and probably not wish for it to happen again. It was the perfect spanking storm.
It started off simply enough, a short email proposing a challenge for our upcoming visit. The challenge was straightforward; could Ms. Dana and my Wife both break a bath brush over my bottom at the same time? The challenge was accepted, brushes were bought and rules set in place. As the day of our visit came I started to have some doubts, I was beginning to rethink the saneness of the challenge as I remembered how much it hurts when a bath brush is broken on my bottom. I sent an email that morning trying to convince Ms. Dana that we should forgo the challenge. Her response clearly revealed she had no interest at all in abandoning the challenge. I tried a number of times to convince my Wonderful Wife to forgo the challenge, all to no avail. As our appointed time came for our session I made one last appeal to Ms. Dana and my Wonderful Wife and as before it only fell on deaf ears, although I was given an opportunity to explain why I wanted to call off the challenge. I explained my reasoning that it was going to hurt a lot and Ms Dana simply said “of course it’s going to hurt” and with that my final plea was shot down. Ms. Dana suggested they start off methodical and hard and I suggested they don’t start at all. Telling me to be quiet they proceeded to prove that they could both break a bath brush over my bottom at the same time. My wife quickly matched Ms. Dana’s rhythm and intensity and after only eight hits Ms. Dana’s brush shattered. This made my Wife even more determined to break Hers. With Ms. Dana cheering Her on She increased Her intensity and was determined not to stop until it was broken. Unfortunately Her bath brush split instead of breaking. Because the brush split it was pinching my bottom every time it made contact with my bum. So with a bit of disappointment and in the interest of always playing safe and sane we had to stop the challenge. As the challenge came to an abrupt and unceremonious end we all just kind of paused for a few moments as we processed the fact that the challenge was over before it really began. Looking over at the end table one of us mentioned Dana’s new resin bath brush which she had just bought and wondered out loud if it would have lasted longer. So Ms. Dana picked up her new resin bath brush and gave me a good whack with it. My ill-fated response was to issue a chuckle and utter some uncontrolled smart-ass comment. This led to an unexpected and very hard painful smack to the fleshy part of my upper leg. Her new bath brush immediately broke in half and left a nice big red mark on my leg. Thus in the first five minutes of our play session three implements had already met their fate and others were soon to follow.
It was then my inner bratty child reared his obnoxious head and before I knew it I was channeling the little bratty bugger. From that point, it just all went downhill. Finding myself in a semiconscious state my bratty inner child took over and began uncontrollably to utter smart assed comments. At first Ms. Dana was just keeping track of all the bratty comments. However, as my bratty inner child increasingly became brattier the smart-ass comments were met with a hard and sound smack. The harder and longer the smacks the brattier my inner child became and the smarter the comments were. Before we knew it we found ourselves embroiled in a battle of determination, Ms. Dana and my Wife determined to curb my bratty comments and my inner bratty child was determined to not give in. This battle went on for a while which eventually lead to the demise of two more implements one wooden spoon and Dana’s loop cane which I believed was featured in Her last product testing video. Being that I often bear the blame and unfairly suffer the consequences when one of Her implements is broken, I became very nervous when I saw the broken loop cane. I quickly reminded Ms. Dana that She could send the loop cane in and it will be replaced with a new one. I was very relieved when She mentioned that She was not worried about replacing the loop cane. The battle continued and as the causalities mounted my bottom was beginning to show the results of our very heavy play. It was determined that my bottom had reached the point where we needed to stop. So once again, in the interest of always playing safe and sane Ms. Kane and my Wonderful Wife called a halt to the unrelenting beating of my bottom.
One would think if a spanko’s bottom was no longer eligible for play that the session would come to an end. Well not in my case, my bratty inner child was still lurking about and the two Lovely Ladies were still determined to rein in my bratty inner child, thus came Ms. Dana’s solution to their dilemma. She would show my Wife various new and creative ways of inflecting physical pain and discomfort upon my person. As a result my feet, nipples and other areas of my personhood enter into the devastating battlefield of determination and quickly became causalities themselves. Once I knew their plan I boldly spoke up and told Ms. Dana “You do not need to teach my Wife anything new” of course, this was met with the same results as my other objections. So off they went Ms. Dana teaching new and disturbing ways of inflecting physical pain and discomfort and my Wife eagerly and enthusiastically soaking it all in and gleefully trying everything Ms. Dana showed Her. It was amazing how a change in battle plans affected my inner bratty child, all of a sudden my inner child was no longer as eager to be so bratty. After some very unpleasant and agonizing cane strikes to my feet, my bratty inner child was no longer wanting to play. Once they tired of “playing” with my feet, Ms. Dana proceeded to teach my Wife other evil skills which she enthusiastically put into practice but are two nefarious to describe here. Thus was the beginning of the end of the perfect spanking storm and the presences of my bratty inner child.
Regrettably, before my inner bratty child was brought under control I made a few unfortunate decisions that got me into some real trouble and led to some very painful and humbling consequences. I must have been worried that Angel was getting to close to taking over in the naughtiness department that I momentarily lost my mind and shot my Wife the OK gesture which unfortunately has negative implications for Her. What is worse I know better than to ever give Her the OK sign. I knew I was in real trouble when one second She was standing at the foot of the bed and the next second She was an inch from my face pinching my nipples and reminding me just how much She does not like that gesture. My Wife response to my gesture happened so fast that I had no time to react or to be scared. In fact, Her response was so immediate that I think it took Ms. Dana by surprise. Dana quickly assessed what I had done was a series breach of respect so she jumped right in to lend a hand. If that was not foolish enough my second unfortunate decision of the day certainly was. I made a somewhat mocking head shake while Ms. Dana was talking. I knew it was a very big mistake when She immediately stopped and stared straight at me and asked very sternly if I had just mocked Her. Without even giving me a chance to respond, She went from Ms. Dana to Ms. Kane disciplinarian. Unlike my Wife, Ms. Kane provided plenty of time for my fear level to skyrocket. She grabbed a thick solid wooden spoon and proceeded to give me one of the most scathing and frightening scolding’s I think I have ever received. She then ordered me to lift my shirt where She proceeded to administer the most painful two smacks to my nipples with her wooden spoon. The pain from the first smack was so terrific that I doubled over and covered my chest; the worst moment was when She told me to stand up and lift my shirt again so She could smack the other side. By then my inner bratty child had completely disappeared and left me standing all alone hesitantly raising my shirt and dreading what was about to happen. While the two smacks to my nipples were extremely painful I would gladly have taken more just to avoid the scathing scolding She gave me. I quickly remembered my Wife and Ms. Kane are strictly holding me responsible for my behavior and they are not giving me any leeway with my misbehavior. Ms. Kane made it very clear that I am never allowed to mock Her or allowed to show any type of disrespect to Her or my Wife. Needless to say I offered a very sincere apology to both of them admitting that my behavior was out of line and I never should have disrespected them as I did. I left a comment to Angel on her last entry to Dana’s website suggesting we should try to go six months before either of us got in trouble with Ms. Kane again. Well I think I made it a week before I found myself in trouble with Ms. Kane. However, once these indiscretions were resolved we were back on good terms and once again enjoying our time together.




Back in March when I first emailed Ms. Kane, I never dreamed our relationship with Ms. Kane would develop the way it has. I certainly never expected that my Wife would call on Her again to help Her administer a well-earned punishment. I never anticipated I would be held accountable by two strong dominate women who have no issues whatsoever in administering discipline and holding me to a much higher standard of behavior than I have exhibited in the past. I 22never in my wildest dreams ever thought I would not only have a Wonderful Wife as my HoH but also have a Professional Disciplinarian to whom I would have to give an account to and be responsible to. To my Wonderful Wife thank you for loving me, accepting me with all my faults, accepting my spanking desires and for being my HoH. To Ms. Kane thank you for caring the way you do and expecting more from me than I expect from myself. Thank you for
not being afraid of calling me on the carpet and not letting me get away with hiding bad behavior.


Sincerely a Very Sore VBB

Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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Video: A Couple more F/F Scenes for Discipline Academy

Not only am I always happy to do a little video for my Discipline Academy friends, but it is never hard to convince me that Angel needs punishing.


Here are a couple clips/links to DA’s clips4sale store:

In this clip, Angel is receiving just punishment for breaking the dress code in nearly every possible way.

In the second video, Ms Mona Rogers and I are forced to take strong measures…

Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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‘It’s Not Always What You Think’ : Original Spanking Stories



Readers, enjoy ‘It’s Not Always What You Think’ – an excellent entry to the ‘My Birthday Spanking’ story contest. I think you’ll like the *slant* as much as I did.


– Dana

*****
It’s Not Always What You Think

“Tonight is going to be it,” I thought excitedly, looking at my friends around the table “my very first spanking!” My wonderful collection of friends were joyful, laughing and talking like the eccentric, motley crew they were, gathered to celebrate my birthday with me. The seat next to me was empty, awaiting Michael, my wonderful new beau. Soon he would arrive, the party would wind down, and then he would take me home for my first real spanking. We’d been flirting about this for weeks now, the slow delicious build up of an incipient relationship. I was finally becoming comfortable with what I wanted from a man, after years and years of embarrassment and denial. For as long as I could remember, I’d longed for a man to take control of me, to put me over his knee and let me know I was safe and accountable. Tonight was the night!
Part of what had drawn me to Michael was his aura of sexual knowledge and mastery. When we’d started talking, he’d known SO MUCH! My head spun with each new detail. Doms, subs, spanking techniques, exquisite torture… he teased me with the promise of future experiences, then taught me submission by making me wait.  Tonight, my birthday, I was so overwhelmed with expectation and longing, I could barely sit still in my chair.
The evening was almost over but Michael still hadn’t arrived. He’d done this before and each time I was more on edge. He was later than usual tonight. As the party trudged on, and I grew more and more brittle inside, my best friend Donna poked me in the side.
“Stop that! Quit looking at the door. Be present.” Donna and her girlfriend Helen were my inner circle. Donna was my roommate in college. We’d been sister/friends ever since. When Helen came along, and she was just so damned perfect for Donna, there was nothing I could do but add her to my short list of people I love. Donna and Helen have had my back, and I theirs for so many years it’s second nature. When I finally blurted out, in an unguarded, drunken moment during a teary heart-to-heart, what I REALLY wanted from a man, after years of unsuccessful dating, Donna had taken it more in stride than I had, and became my “go to” person for fetish knowledge. Now, as the dinner wound down to a close, she slipped an envelope into my hand. “Open this at home, and use it as you see fit. You won’t be disappointed.”
Just as she did, the waitress wove her way between the tight tables to come to my side. “You just got a message on the landline. Michael Oscar says he’s been calling your cell but isn’t getting through. He’s not going to be able to make it.” She smiled companionably. “I guess he’s too caught up with his New Girl to make it out for ‘just friends’.
The world took an ugly jolt. “I beg your pardon?” I felt lightheaded but strangely calm. I’d never seen this girl before. She couldn’t possibly know my boyfriend. She balanced on her toes, holding her drink tray to her chest. “Michael Oscar, who works IT at the lab, right? He’s seeing one of the waitresses over at Dirty Dogs’. I hear they’re into some wild stuff, those two. And a weekend night off is a rare thing in waitress-world. It’s usually only Mondays.” She winked. “You know, we hear everything on the waitress- grapevine.” Her message delivered, she spun away, easing through the tables like a dancer.
I sat still, frozen but frantic, and reviewed everything I thought I knew. Michael had never taken me to Dirty Dogs’. He said he couldn’t stand the atmosphere. He was never available on Mondays, and in fact, usually saw me at the last moment, and at home, or a local neighborhood bistro. I had once commented that we could venture out in public more, but he had said he knew I was an introvert, and he preferred our quiet time together. As I thought it all through in my head, the many, tiny red flags I’d ignored coalesced into one giant “You Big Dummy” flag. My heart felt as if it would burst onto the floor right then and there, but of course, Donna and Helen didn’t let it happen. Donna bustled me up, gracefully ending the party. She and Helen got me home, and nestled into bed surrounded by my shiny, new presents. She set my card against the bedside lamp, made me a cup of tea, started a favorite mushy movie on the DVD player, kissed me on the top of my head and left me to my thoughts. 
After a good hard, cry, I checked my cell for messages (none from him, but who was looking anyway), then opened my card from Donna and Helen. Inside was a beautifully designed gift certificate for one session with the “Divine Dana Kane.” Across the bottom was a web address. On the back was a handwritten note “Here’s hoping your experiences live up to your highest expectations. We’re sure this one will. Much love, Donna & Helen.” 
Curious, and desperate not to think about Michael and the huge tornado that was slowly forming in my chest, I pulled my laptop off the bedside table. Her site came up quickly. I spent the next few hours poring over every single page. Some sent chills through me. Some made me so hot I had to get up to walk around. But the sum of the many parts left every nerve ending in my body awake and tingly. Even more, I suddenly had a whole host of possibilities buzzing around in my head.
Sunday, when Michael called, I was relieved to hear from him. But now I was listening with, as my second grade teacher used to say “my big girl ears on.”  He was so sorry to have missed my dinner. (Uh huh.) He had to work late on Monday so Monday wouldn’t be good. (Right, makes sense.) We could meet for lunch on Wednesday. (Not good for me. In the past I would have changed my plans. Not now, however.) He owed me a birthday present, he teased, and he would do whatever I wanted. What. ever. I. wanted, he emphasized. I played up how incredibly busy I would be at work this week. The less available I seemed, the more anxious to get together Michael became. Interesting.  His hardcore flirting still made my knees weak, but I found I was sifting it for content, and finding it thin. Michael, I realized, was a disappointer, a flirt who flirted until he thought he’d caught you, then slowly backed away.
At his insistence we met for coffee before work Thursday morning, but by then I had watched he and his new flirt-ette as they left the Dirty Dog together after her shift on Tuesday. I could tell by his body language that he was playing her too. Good to know. We made a date to get together for lunch on Saturday. And I set to work on my plans.
Saturday was a lovely day. I wore a particularly fetching outfit, a low cut corset-style blouse and a soft, flowing skirt over boots. I’m not the woman your eye goes to immediately but I can look good, and I did. Michael was particularly complimentary, and began hinting about “making up for lost time” after we ran the few errands I needed to do before lunch. He hated that I wanted to take my car but I reasoned that one of my errands was to pick up a car part. Better to have it than not. Our first errand was for my dry cleaning.  The second was to a lovely house, in a well-to-do neighborhood. 
“Good morning,” I said to the imposing woman who answered the door. She let us in with an impersonal air, looked us over and led us into a parlor that obviously served as a waiting room of sorts. Michael paced around curiously. I sat demurely in a chair, watching him evaluate.
“Nice place,” he said grudgingly. “What are we doing here?”
“It’s the birthday present you owe me” I said “and a going away present of sorts.” I tried to keep the triumph out of my voice. A door opened down the hall and I could hear the fast rat-a-tat of high heels heading firmly toward us. “This should be quick and painless” I smiled to him “at least for me. Michael, I’d like you to meet Ms. Dana Kane. You’ll do exactly as she says.”
As he followed her down the hall, as I gathered up my car keys and headed for the door, I thought of him finding his way home later with what Ms. Kane promised would be a very sore bottom, and of the video she’d promised to send me. It was a very good birthday spanking indeed.

Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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Zoe: A note from the Contest Winner’s Wife



Dear Dana,

I wanted to thank you again for the opportunity to spend such an enjoyable afternoon of spanking with you. I wanted to write, not just to say thanks, but also to give voice to the experience of a wife (me) who is often less enthusiastic about spanking than the man she is married to. Our session with you was a happy reminder of the fun that can be had with spanking despite my occasional ambivalence towards it. Spending the afternoon with you and my husband was a thrilling and exhilarating high, filled with risks and adventures (I have never spanked him with anyone else before!) I highly recommend it for any wife, partner, girlfriend, or boyfriend who has ever started to find the ritual of weekly partner spankings to be a chore… it was a fantastic opportunity to remind myself that I can enjoy it for myself, and on my own terms. 
Looking forward to seeing you again soon!
Zoe
******************


Zoe,


The pleasure was mine. Tim’s story was so well-imagined that it was likely I would enjoy his company, but you were a delightful bonus! Beautiful and skilled – you are a formidable disciplinarian.
I will look forward with much anticipation to the opportunity to play with you two again.


– Dana
*********


Readers,


THIS is why I hold the writing contests. Every single one has led to my meeting and playing with someone who I find interesting and intelligent. It’s not just about the stories…it’s also about the storytellers.


– Dana

Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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‘Happy Birthday Greg Thornton!’ : F/M Spanking Stories

The ‘My Birthday Spanking’ story contest was a lot of fun, and it looks like the entrants enjoyed themselves, too. The author of ‘Happy Birthday Greg Thornton’ is yet another example of the wonderful readers and contributors of this blog. Thank you again.


– Dana

*****

Happy Birthday Greg Thornton!
Greg Thornton was in a funk.  His girl friend of two year’s, Ashley Finney, unceremoniously dumped him two months earlier.  She told him she just couldn’t wait any longer for him to grow up.  Although Greg had a good paying job the last five years with Kramer Internet Marketing he still lived with his parents, had no savings and blew his time and money with daily visits to the corner pub and monthly junkets with his college friends to Vegas.  The poor boy was clueless and was completely taken off guard when Ashley dressed him down on a Friday evening after he showed up drunk and two hours late for a date.
His work suffered more than usual.  He showed up late about twice a week since his misfortune.  He missed a meeting with his boss the week before and a client got so fed up with him they requested a change in the personnel handling their account.  Greg was ordered to report to his boss’ office where they would review his performance.  How could I have let things get to this point he thought?  I use to be someone; star running back on my High School Football team, Class President, Dean’s List and Cum Laude graduate from the University.  The proudest day of my life was when I got my dream job at the age of 25 as a Junior Account Executive at Kramer internet.  Now I’m on the verge of getting fired.  
Greg’s visits to his bosses office were usually the same.  His boss Marybeth Bennett would tell him his strengths; his charm, his easy going manner, his skill when he was motivated and his intelligence.  Then would come a discussion of his tribulations at work; showing up late, hung over, not returning calls to clients and his bad attitude.  Greg would apologize and promise to do better.  Marybeth Bennett was a beautiful woman, raven black hair, hour glass figure, pouty lips and piercing blue eyes.  At 35 she was only about five years older than Greg, but was more of a Mother figure than a boss or contemporary.  She coddled Greg, not due to any romantic designs but because she saw the potential he was wasting.
This trip on Tuesday morning to Ms. Bennett’s office was different.  She asked Greg what was wrong, he had never been a model employee but the past eight weeks had been intolerable.  The next slip up would result in a suspension and the one after, his dismissal.  Greg saw the disappointment in his boss’ eyes and opened up.  He explained about getting dumped, for no good reason!  He felt like he was in a rut, he tried to work hard, but never got promoted, he was coming up on his 30th birthday that Friday and he thought his life so far was a big waste.  Marybeth had enough of Greg’s wallowing.  “What do you expect the poor girl to do, wait until she’s 40 for you to grow up and move out of your parent’s home?  As far as work is concerned, how can you expect to get promoted?  Even when your work is good you have an infraction at least once a month.  If I asked Ms. Kramer to promote you I’d be fired on the spot for incompetence.”  With that she dismissed Greg from her office.
Greg took his talk to heart, for the first time he actually thought about his life through the eyes of others.  He was a pretty horrible boy friend, always taking Ashley for granted.  He never realized that Ms. Bennett could get into trouble with Ms. Kramer for covering for him.  He resolved to lay low at least for a while until all of this blew over.


)Remember to click ‘Read More’ below to finish the story.)

When he returned back to his desk and sat down to his computer, his office mate Barbara Fuller was waiting.  “I’m surprised you’re sitting down to work and not cleaning out your desk.  I can’t believe you’re still working here after all your shenanigans the last two months.”  Barbara was five years Greg’s junior in age but was on the fast track at work.  Although she had only been with Kramer Internet for three years she had been promoted twice and was Greg’s Section Leader.  Greg had rationalized being passed over as reverse sexism at a woman dominated firm, but had to admit that Barbara was brilliant, skilled, articulate, hard working and totally hot.  Barbara was blond, dynamite body, green eyed and about Greg’s height at 5’-9”.  Greg had contemplated asking her out, but she knew he had a steady girl friend and he thought she would reject his advances any way.   He could never score with a girl like that.  
Greg sheepishly replied, “Don’t worry Barb, I’m going to be better.  I’m sorry I have been such a waste these past weeks.  My birthday’s coming up, 30, and the thought of where I am in my life was just too much to handle.  But my talk with Ms. Bennett really cleared my head.  I’ve let you and Ms. Bennett down and it won’t happen again, I promise.”
Barbara retorted, “Well it better not!  I‘m letting you know now, Ms. Bennett has ordered me to report any of your transgressions.  I can’t cover for you any longer!  If I do it could mean my job!”
Greg stated with more confidence, “I understand, you won’t have anything to report, you have my word.” 
“Well at least you’re showing some remorse for the first time since I’ve known you and that’s a start.  But unfortunately your word isn’t worth much right now, with me, Ms. Bennett or Ms. Kramer.  I hope you mean it but time will tell.  Let’s just get back to work.”
Three days went by in a whirl.  For the first time in years Greg was a model employee, showing up on time, clear headed and ready to work.  He even solved a thorny problem from a client and Ms. Bennett got favorable call about Greg for the first time in a year.  It was Friday morning, and Barbara greeted Greg with a smile, “Happy Birthday, Birthday boy, good news, a group of us from work are going to take you out for your Birthday.”
“Thanks Barb, I was going to meet my buddies, but I think they may just drag me back to a place I want to stay away from.  Who’s coming?”, Greg asked.  
Barb replied, “Well it will be me, I’m also your designated driver for the evening, the rest is a surprise.  We’ll be leaving at 5:30 sharp.”
The rest of the day was uneventful, but Greg was excited. He thought, wow, how my fortunes have changed in just four days, things are going well at work and I’m going out with the girl of my dreams for my birthday.  5:30 rolled around and Barbara turned to Greg and said, “Let’s go, don’t want to make everyone wait.”
“For who?”, Greg asked.
“I told you it’s a surprise, so don’t ask again”, Barb replied.
On the way to this Birthday get together, Greg could hardly hold his excitement.  What’s Barb up to, no one came up to me today to wish me Happy Birthday?  Who could be coming?  Barb and I were the last to leave so anyone could be there, he wondered.
About 15 minutes later, they pulled into a restaurant Parking Lot, “The Loft”, one of the best restaurants in town.“  “Gee Barb, I’ve heard this is a great place, but I’ve never been here, didn’t think I could afford it.”
Barb replied, “You’re such a silly boy, if you didn’t waste so much of your money at the corner pub you could treat yourself to a place like this every once in a while.”
Barb asked the Hostess for the “Kramer Internet table”, and they were both escorted to a small booth, with two ladies with their backs to Greg.  When they got to the table, Greg could not believe his eyes, “Msss. Krammerrrer, Msss. Benneeettt,” he stammered.  “I can’t believe you’re here, where is everyone else?”
Diane Kramer was beautiful, but all business.  She had short dark hair, tall, slim, with a muscular build and blue eyes.  If you could say anyone had it all it was Diane Kramer.  She started Kramer Internet marketing at the age of 25 on a shoe string budget.  Now at the age of 40 she had built it into a 100 Million dollar company with her and her husband having sole ownership.  Her dutiful husband was the Chief Financial Officer for their company.  They had three teenage children that excelled in school and in sports.  Diane spent her free time as a tri-athlete.  She said it relieved stress and kept her in prime condition. 
Ms. Kramer was the first to break the ice, “Sit down and relax Greg, we won’t bite, and we’re the only ones coming.  Barbara suggested that since this was your big 3-0 we should take you out for the evening.  I don’t know you well and I like to know all of my workers and it will give me time to see what these two ladies see in you that I can’t understand from your employment record.”
Dinner was delightful.  Greg was able to relax after a couple of cocktails and able to be his best charming self.  All three ladies took a genuine interest in his life, his ambitions and his disappointments.  Greg even was open about his epiphany this past week when Ms. Bennett had to reprimand him for his poor work habits and attitude.  He assured all three ladies that all of those issues were a thing of the past.
Ms. Kramer responded to that, “I certainly hope so Greg and all three of us are going to help you with that.”
Greg only made one slip during the evening when he turned to his boss and said, “so Marybeth what hobbies do you have?”  Both Ms. Bennett and Ms. Kramer’s eyes narrowed and Ms. Bennett said, “Greg I’m Ms. Bennett to you at work, here or anywhere else we may be.”
Greg quickly corrected himself, “I’m so soooorry Ms. Bennett, I know, you will always be Ms. Bennett.”
After dinner their waitress came over to the table and said, “Your private room is ready now Ms. Kramer, can I show you the way.”
“You first Birthday Boy”, said Ms. Kramer as they were all led to a private room in the upper level of the restaurant.  Greg didn’t notice it before, but all three ladies were wearing Stiletto heals and all towered over him by at least 4 inches.  I feel like I’m in the company of three Amazon Princesses he thought to himself.
When they got to the room, there was a small table with four chairs and a small couch.  The table had a small Birthday Cake on it and there was a good size wrapped present on the side.  “May I light the candles”, the waitress said.  
“Please do”, said Ms. Kramer.  The waitress dutifully lit all 30 candles on the cake.  One for each year and then left the room.  The three women sang Happy Birthday to Greg.  He hadn’t felt so special since his Mom and Dad threw him a surprise Birthday 12th Birthday party.  “Okay, Greg now cut the cake for all of us, so we can have desert and coffee”, said Ms. Bennett.  
Greg cut the cake and gave a generous piece to each lady and one for himself, then poured coffee for everyone.  They began to talk some more just like they did at dinner.  When they had finished, Ms. Bennett said, “okay Greg open your gift.”  With great anticipation, Greg opened his “present”.  He opened the box and there was a large oak hair brush and an 18” cane with a sturdy handle.  He was puzzled but said, “Why thank you ladies the hair brush is larger than I’m use to but I will use it every day, and thanks for the pointer it will help while I’m making presentations at work.”
The three ladies simultaneously started laughing hysterically.  After regaining her composure, Ms. Bennett stood up went over to Greg, and put her hand lightly below his chin, stared into his eyes and said, “Greg that is not a pointer, it’s a cane and both hair brush and cane are going to be used tonight for your Birthday Spanking.”
With that Marybeth Bennett pulled one of the chairs away from the table, sat down and said, “it’s time now Greg come over to my side.”
Greg couldn’t believe his ears, “a spanking”, he had never been spanked in his life.  His parents didn’t believe in spanking and it had been outlawed in his school for ten years before he started.  His heart sank into his stomach, all the joy of the evening quickly dissipated along with any romantic thoughts he had about Barbara.  What is she going to think about me, after watching me have the first spanking of my life? he thought.  He went over to Ms. Bennett’s side, quickly got his head straight and started to plead, “please Ms. Bennett don’t spank me, I promised I’ll be good, and I’ve been great these past four days.”
Ms. Bennett quickly responded, “Greg, four days is hardly a career.  This spanking is for three reasons, first it is your birthday and all boys should get a Birthday spanking on their Birthday, good or bad.  Second, I’m combining your Birthday spanking with a punishment spanking for all the trouble you have caused me and the company these past five years and especially these past two months.  And third, this is to show Ms. Kramer that I’m not going to put up with anymore of your nonsense and the days of my coddling you are over.”  With that she reached for Greg’s belt to undo his pants.  Greg instinctively but is hands on hers in a vain attempt to restrain her.  With that Ms. Bennett gave him and icy glare and he quickly put his hands back at his sides.  With a very quick motion, Ms. Bennett unfastened Greg’s belt and slacks and quickly dropped his pants to below his knees.  His underwear quickly followed and Greg was standing naked from the waist down for all three ladies to see.  Although mortified, he couldn’t believe that some how he was also aroused.  Please let me stay under control for a little longer, he wished.  He stood there for what seemed to be good five minutes while Ms. Bennett gave a performance review summary for Ms. Kramer, finally she ended with, “OK Greg, now lay across my lap.”
Greg practically dove across Ms. Bennett’s lap, he was strangely comfortable as Ms. Bennett situated his member between her ample thighs.  Ms. Bennett stated, “Greg first a warm up, that’s thirty with my hand.”  One, (not too bad), two (other cheek), three in the middle, Ms. Bennett methodically covered Greg’s entire bottom with slaps alternating between cheeks and the center of his crack, seventeen, eighteen,  Greg squirmed a little and let out small gasps but  took it pretty well, twenty-nine, thirty.  “OK, Greg let’s really get started now, what do you say.”
Greg thought for a second and then answered as he thought she wished, “Please Ms. Bennett, please spank me.  I’m sorry I’ve been so bad.”
“Not bad for a rookie Greg, now let’s begin.”  One, nothing prepared Greg for what he felt from the first blow of the Oak Hair brush.  He gasped and choked a bit from a quick breath, two, Ms. Bennett spanked with the Hair Brush with the same methodical cadence as with her hand, except each blow got harder,  By ten, Greg’s arousal was a distant memory and he couldn’t help himself but to beg, “please stop Ms. Kramer, I promise I’ll be good.”  She ignored his pleas and by twenty, Greg began to cry, and kick.  
“Greg, control yourself, or you will be here the rest of the night.”  Greg quickly stopped kicking, but continued to cry until, “thirty”, he was a blubbery mess.  Ms. Kramer stopped the spanking and started messaging his back side with her hand.  “That’s a good boy Greg, almost finished.”  She allowed Greg to completely regain his self control and Ms. Bennett picked up the cane.
“Here goes Greg”, Greg slightly tightened his back side. One, right across the center of both cheeks.  If Greg was unprepared for the hairbrush nothing compared to the cane, he started to cry immediately.  Two, just a quarter of an inch above the first.  Ms. Kramer’s style was a different with the cane, she made parallel hits across his hind quarters that by twenty had covered his complete back side from the top of his thighs to the top of his crack.  Greg, by this point had completely resolved there was nothing to do but to surrender, he did so with minimum pleas but continued to cry like a thoroughly spanked little boy throughout, Twenty-nine, thirty, the last crack was centered on the first.   He just layed there when Ms. Kramer began her light massage.  “All done, you’ve passed your first birthday and punishment spanking, and if I were grading you I’d give you a solid B”.  
“Ms. Bennet, Greg may have only a B, but I’d give you an A plus.”  Greg heard Barbara state..  Then Ms. Kramer added, “I’m convinced too, I think you have started Greg on the path of being the kind of employee I thought he would be when I first hired him”.  Greg had completely forgotten the two ladies witnessing his chastisement and a sense of shame returned.  After a few minutes Ms. Bennett stopped.  “OK Greg, get up and remove your shoes, pants and under ware and go stand in the corner, I don’t want you to trip and hurt yourself.”  Greg slowly got up and did as he was told.  By that time he had lost any semblance of modesty.  When he started to the corner, Ms. Bennett interrupted, “Greg, what do you say?”
Greg turned to face her looked down at the floor and said, “Thank you Ms. Bennett for my Birthday spanking and for everything.”
“Well Greg, at least this evening has made you a quicker study.  Now to the corner for thirty minutes, one for each year.  I don’t want to see your nose more than two inches from the corner and don’t even think about touching that bottom of yours or it will be back over my lap for round two,” Ms. Bennett replied.
While in the corner Greg could hear the ladies talking shop.  It was if he wasn’t even in the room, it had the tone of just a routine meeting at work.  Then he heard the door open, and their waitress came into the room, “do you ladies need anything more”.  “Just some coffee, Ms. Kramer answered.”  As the waitress poured she said, “well I see some young man had a memorable Birthday.”  “Yes, I think he has”, Ms. Kramer answered as all four ladies had a chuckle over Greg’s display.  
The thirty minutes felt like two hours, but finally Greg heard the words he was waiting for.  “Greg you can come out now”, Ms. Kramer said.  Greg felt a twinge of relief for his ordeal was finally over.  That feeling was short lived, he turned and saw Ms. Kramer in the spanking chair with the other two women at each side.  Barbara was holding the Hair Brush and Ms. Bennett the cane.  By this time Greg has completely submitted and he knew what this meant.  He slowly walked over to Ms. Kramer’s side.
As soon as he got there, all Ms. Kramer had to do was point to her lap, and Greg crawled over it like a submissive little boy.  Ms. Kramer locked Greg into place with her left arm, Greg felt he was in a vice and then Diane Kramer also started with her hand, one, as soon as the first one landed Greg knew that this would be no ordinary spanking.  He did not think that anyone could possibly spank harder than Ms. Bennett, but the first spank felt worse than the hair brush did on his well spanked bottom.  Ms. Kramer had a different spanking style than Ms. Bennett, the first used alternating blows and Greg knew where the next one was going to land, Ms. Kramer’s blows were completely arbitrary and could have several in a row in exactly the same spot.  By 10 smacks, Greg was again sniffling and at 20 he was crying hysterically, but he dare not kick, he was able to just squirm very little from the tightness of her grip, finally 30 and the first part of this Birthday Spanking was over.
Ms. Kramer was completely focused on her task, as soon as she was done, with Greg crying over her lap, she turned to Barbara and said, “hair brush please”.  Barbara handed Ms. Kramer the hairbrush and she started up again.  One was on the upper part of Greg’s right thigh, he thought that it felt like a hot frying pan, two, three, four landed in all different regions, Ms. Kramer used the same spanking style with the hair brush as she did with her hand.  By this time Greg was in complete surrender all he could do is cry and wait to the end.  Thirty finally came and Greg had no time to recover before he heard Ms. Kramer say, “Cane please.”
A few seconds later the cane came down on the center of his hindquarters, one.  It felt like a hundred bee stings and Greg was sure that his backside must have been a bloody mess.  In actuality his bottom was a deep shade of crimson from the top of his thighs to the top of his crack with splotches of purple throughout.  Two, three, four, all in different places, in different angles and patterns, with no way for Greg to prepare.  He was in a trance and lost count of the strokes and did not even know when 30 came.  He continued to sob over Ms. Kramer’s lap for at least 30 seconds before he realized the spanking was finally finished.  Ms. Kramer kept Greg over her knee for another minute but did nothing to relieve is throbbing backside until Greg’s sobs turned to blubbering and finally deep breaths.  “You can get up now Greg,” she said.
As soon as Greg got up, He looked at Ms. Kramer and told her, “Thaaaank you Mssss. Kramerer for my spanannking and giving me ananother chance,” he stammered.
Ms. Kramer got up from her chair, she seemed to tower over Greg and put one hand under his chin and softly said, “It’s all over Greg, you have a clean slate.  I’m going to inform HR on Monday to purge your employment file of all infractions.  When Barbara came to Ms. Bennett and myself to plead your case and to have this intervention, we knew there was no way you could keep your position and we could keep a potentially valuable company asset with the rules we had in place.  You are reborn tonight, just like the day you came into this world.  By the way I’m transferring you to a new section starting Monday, although we condone office relationships, you cannot have your new girl friend as your supervisor.  Barbara promised to keep you on the straight and narrow at home and Ms. Bennett and myself will keep you that way at work.  There will be no more talks in Ms. Bennett’s office, only spankings for now on for future infractions and then to my office for the same.  It won’t be patty cake spankings like the ones you just received but real punishment.  We each have a hair brush and cane in our desk drawers to match your Birthday present along with a four inch wide leather strap and 16” paddle.  We’re going to leave you now with Barbara.”  With that Ms. Kramer gave Greg a long hug and then kissed him on the cheek.
Ms. Bennett, then came over to Greg and gave him a hug and kissed him on his forehead, then turned and said, “you’re in very capable hands with Barbara, don’t blow it, I still have high hopes for you.”  With that both ladies left the room.
Barbara Fuller came over to Greg, and took his hand and led him to the couch.  She sat down, and had Greg sit on her lap.  Still naked from the waist down Greg buried his face on Barbara’s shoulder and started to weep.  “How can you want to be my girl friend after all I’ve done and what you just saw?” he asked.  
“Greg I’ve had a crush on you since the first day I came to work for Kramer Internet.  You were just so lost you could never see it.  As far as tonight, I’ve never been prouder of you, I know that we can make it together.  We’re going stop by your house to pick up your things, your parents are waiting and are thrilled you’re moving on with your life and in with me.  Bring your presents we will need them at our house.  I have only two rules at home, one, you are to do things my way, and two, when in doubt refer to rule one.”
They both lightly chuckled.  Greg had a mix of emotion he never experienced, partly well spanked little boy, completely forgiven, and the other new boy friend to the hottest girl on the planet.  He could feel his member slightly stiffen.  Barb sensed what was going on and gave his member a light slap, “there will be none of that for some time, not until you earned it.  Come on, get dressed and get your things we have a lot to do tonight.  We have to pack your clothes, move in and then I’ll be giving you your final Birthday Spanking of the evening at home.  Then I can nurse you back to tip top shape by Monday.”
Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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Photo: The VBB…three weeks later

It seems as though the VBB’s indestructible bottom was finally given a run for it’s money.
This photo, sent along by him and his Wonderful Wife, shows remnants of cane tip strikes, and a few dark abrasions…three weeks after our last meeting. (I also detect some much more recent reddening, no doubt the result of the WW’s well-practiced swing.)



We’ll be getting together again very soon. Lucky for him, he’s no longer in trouble. 

– Dana
Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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F/M Spanking Stories: ‘My Birthday Spanking’ entry

This entry from another great friend and fellow spanking enthusiast (a non-contestant in the ‘My Birthday Spanking’ contest   due to our friendship) is well-penned and really quite funny.  Thanks again to my wonderful buddies who take the time and imagination to enter their works – you’re the best.
Enjoy!


– Dana

*****






Out and about at the electronic store that I oh so loved. The newest iPhone had just been released and I was determined to get it no matter I had to do to get it.
I had tried desperately every which way to get the money together to purchase the phone. I begged, tried to borrow even barter. All to no avail. Hours went by, then days, then weeks. My sister and her husband had just gotten the same phone. MY sister who knew absolutely nothing about technology. MY sister who didn’t understand the importance of the A5 processor, or the built in 8mega-pixel camera. MY sister who only got the damn thing cause it came in white! I was outraged, disgusted, and just down right fed up!
It was my day off from work. I counted my money as I did just several hours earlier before bed, hoping that some how the my cash flow had increased while I slept. Adding the disappointment was the dream I had in which I had miracluously found more money waiting for me when I recounted. In reality I was still close to fifty dollars short. With my hopes dashed again I decided I would get this phone today no matter what. Nothing was going to stop me. I was going to right this wrong that fate had done to me. The iPhone would be mine today oh yes it would be mine.
I arrived at the store plotting my move. Not only was I about to teach everyone that I always get what I want but I was going to teach this store that not allowing someone to purchase it for me from another state, and having me pick it up, was complete and utter bull***t. I’ll show them to deny me of my technological rights!
I scoped the place out. Cameras were everywhere. I had to be quick, and I may even have to run. The only comforting sight was the one security guard who was so fat he looked like he’d have a heart attack chasing after me faster then I would running from him. I walked to the cell phone isle and there I saw it. Locked behind a gate. This just became more trickier then I had planned. I took my book bag off my back and opened it fumbling around in it like I was looking for something. Looked around again. I debated if this would work. I considered abandoning the mission. Then I thought about all the injustices that had been done to me. My sister, the technological ***, the store not allowing an online purchase and in-store pickup, no no no, failure was not an option. Kneeling down still fumbling I reached pulled the gate that was being held together by a chain. I reached in and grabbed an iPhone box. I let it go so as not to draw suspicion.
I glanced around and realized no one had seen this. I was amazed. I reached in again and pulled out the box and placed it in my bag. I reached in again and looked up noticing a woman looking at me. I pulled my arm out making it seem as if I was just shuffling the products behind the cage around. Slick on my part I thought. No one in the store had seen me. If they did and I ran they couldn’t pursue me this much I knew from my retail days.
I continued about the store. I looked as if I was browsing other items. I would ocassionally reach in my bag and pull out the sales flyer looking as if I was browsing for a good sale. What I was secretly doing was using the knife in my bag to cut off the alarm attached to the box. I reached in again after the alarm wire snapped and quietly tore apart the box. I reached inside again when suddenly someone came up from behind me.
Damnit! It was the oversized guard. He asked me to come with him. I followed as he took me upstairs. He didn’t say anything to me suddenly to my amazement I saw my arm behind the cage shuffling the boxes. The camera must have been rotating and actually missed me jacking the iPhone.
“Can I leave now?” I asked the guard.
“Sir can you open your bag.”
“Absolutely not, I know my rights and you can’t force me to open my bag. So if you don’t mind I’ll be going now.” I attempted to walk out with my head down and walked right into the big man’s gut.
“Sir, if you don’t open your bag I’m going to have to call the cops. They can and will force you to open that bag.”
I made an attempt to try to run passed the big man but got caught between his stomach and the doorway. The man didn’t even budge. I was beginning to panic. My retail experience had taught me cops really could force me to open the bag, in which case I’d be screwed. I’d end up with no iPhone and a rap sheet. I began to think, maybe a little too quickly because the room was starting to spin. Suddenly there was a knock on the door. The big man opened it and was surprised to see a tall woman with dark jet black short hair standing in front of him.
“Excuse me sir, may I have a word with you.”
The man stepped outside. I figured one of two things was about to happen. This woman was going to rat me out or save my a**. The door reopened and to my surprise the woman walked in and asked me to have a seat.
“It appears we have a problem young man.” she said.
“The only problem I have is my civil rights are being violated! LET ME OUTTA HERE!” I began screaming loudly.
“Young man you better quit your bi***in. The problem we have is that I was really looking forward to buying that iPhone I saw you steal.” she said.
“You didn’t see s**t.” I angerily replied.
“Now is that any way to speak to a lady? Would you like me to help keep you out of jail or not?”
I looked at her not really believing what I had just heard.
“You give me the iPhone that’s in your bag and I will teach you not to steal. You see it’s my birthday and I’m not looking to be here all day so just hand it over and we’ll be on our way.”
“Happy birthday miss…” she cut in to announce her name.
“Dana Kane.”
“Ms. Kane but absolutely not. I’ve earned this iPhone.”
“Ok then I’ll just go tell Biggie Smalls out there to just a head and call the police.”
Suddenly panic struck again, perhaps this was a sign. Maybe this woman was meant to be in the store today to keep me from going to jail.
“Fine, give me the lesson and I will give up the phone.”
She flashed a devilish smile.
“Now we’re talkin. Come over here.”
I walked over to her as she tapped her lap. I was caught by surprise.
“Excuse me?”
“I’m going to teach you a lesson you won’t soon forget now come across my lap.” she said.
“What exactly are you going to do?” I asked dumbly kind of already knowing the answer.
“I’m going to spank you. Naughty boys who like to steal need a firm hand to show them the errors of their ways.”
I couldn’t believe what she had just said. I hadn’t been spanked since I was a little boy. Here was this complete stranger who was offering to spank me to keep me out of jail, and she wanted the phone I so desperately wanted. This was all wrong.
“I’m not going to ask you again young man.” she said sternly.
Surely this had to be some sort of joke. If it was everyone involved was doing a good job at concealing it.
I finally and hesitently laid across her lap. I felt her hands sliding my pants down and quickly shot back up.
“Uh, what the heck do you think you’re doing?” I asked.
She sighed with frustration.
“Well I’m not really going to get my point across by spanking you with your pants up. Now come on I haven’t got all day, I’m going to miss my birthday cake.”
I again hesitently laid across her lap. She pulled my pants down and began running her hands over my exposed cheeks. I couldn’t believe this was happening to me. The feel of her hands was some what comforting and soothing, right before her hand slammed into my left butt cheek. A sudden sting came across my butt. I could feel the heat resonating from the spot she had just assaulted. I couldn’t believe I was allowing this to happen all for a stupid phone. I kept my left hand gripped tightly on my shirt. The slaps came faster and harder and more steady.
I heard the security guard talking outside the door. I also heard another female voice. This voice I recognized.
“Just tell me where my friend is!” She screamed.
“I’ll show you.” The guard replied.
How mortifying, here I was being spanked by this complete stranger and now my good friend Angel Smith was watching it all unfold.
“Young lady please close the door behind you.” Dana said without missing one slap.
Angel looked horrified.
Suddenly the man spoke again “We think she was an accomplice to his theft.”
“WHAT!?! NO!”
“I’m not goingto have to ask you again to close that door am I?” Dana replied.
The guard closed the door leaving Angel and I alone with this woman. My ass was now on fire and I wasn’t sure when she was going to stop. Just as I thought that she did.
“What’s your name young lady?” Dana asked.
“Uh..Angel…Angel Smith.”
“Well Angel Smith don’t just stand there drop those drawers and get on your hands and knees.”
“For what?!?” Angel asked in protest.
“Well hell, if he’s gettin a spankin for stealin, and you’re helpin him that makes you guilty by association.”
“WHAT!!” Angel yelled.
“Kevin, what the hell did you get us into!” Angel screamed at me.
“This was your idea I just followed your plan.” which was a blatant lie, I really just needed Angel for the ride.
“Thats bullshit! Whoever you are…he’s lying I was just driving him here.”
At this point I was on my hand and knees only because it really hurt to sit down. If I was going down Angel was coming with me.
“Oh yeah, you didn’t want that iPod charger?” I blurted out. Angel’s face turned beat red. I wasn’t sure if it was from fear that I had just ratted her out or that I had gotten her in trouble, AGAIN. It wasn’t the first time Angel and I had gotten into hot water, and it probably wouldn’t be the last. The two of us together knew how to make life hell for those around us.
“You sonofa!” Angel yelled before being interupted.
“Both of you quit your whinin. Angel get on your hands and knees or I will walk out of here and let the cops deal with you both. I have a birthday cake waiting for me, and an iPhone.”
Angel got down really slow. She shot me a look that would have killed me if looks could kill. Dana began to lower Angel’s pants slowly. I watched as Angel closed her eyes in a moment of pleasure. I watch intently what was coming next. Sudden the sound of a loud slap echoed throughout the room. Angel took a deep breath in but appeared to have a hard time letting it out. I chuckled which drew the attention back to me.
There we were side by side with our pants down, and this woman who we’ve never met in between us spanking our asses in unison. I gripped my left shirt arm tightly almost to ease the pain. Angel’s screams were getting louder as her a** was turning all different shades of red. I could tell she was having a hard time taking this, much harder then I was. So I decided to speak up.
“Let us leave first and you can have the phone I promise.” I said.
“Oh sweetness, I’m going to have that phone now you hush and take your punishment. You two are bad news. I had to take time out of my birthday to come and discipline you little brats. I should be home eating cake right now but instead I’m workin up a sweat tearin up your hides.”
“Look, Ms. Kane, I’m sorry just lets us go and I promise we’ll never do this again.” the pain was starting to become overwhelming for me too.
“I didn’t do anything!!!” Angel protested.
Our words seemed to fall on deaf ears as Dana just ignored us and continued. Finally she stopped. I heard Angel catching her breath. I was also trying to regain the composure I lost.
“Stand up both of you.” we quickly jumped to our feet. Angel went to pull up her pants, I was rubbing my butt with my hands however the touch was so hot and painful I really couldn’t.
“Turn and look at each other.” we did and were both shocked at how red our backsides were.
“You never know when there might be someone like me in stores. I suggest its in your best interest to behave from now on and keep your grubby little hands off of items you didn’t pay for.” she said.
“You’re both dismissed.” Angel and I picked up our drawers and I went to reach for my bag.
“That stays with me young man!” I put my head down and followed Angel who had already headed for the door.
Dana exited the room and called the security guard back in. As Angel and I emerged from the store we were both still in shock.
“I can’t friggin believe you blamed me for this!” She said.
“Oh be quiet will ya!” I reached in my right pocket and pulled out a small package and tossed it to her.
“Oh my! You got the charger!” her face lit up like a kid on christmas. It had been sometime since poor Angel had been able to use her iPod. I reached in my left pocket and pulled out a square piece of plastic. I tossed it to Angel who’s face lit up even more. She ran over and hugged me tightly. It was the brand new Lady Gaga album. Seeing Angel happy like that made it all worth it.
The security guard and Ms. Dana opened the bag and pulled out the box. They went through the contents. Their eyes lit up looking fierce.
“Why that little sonofa!” Dana yelled.
As Angel and I walked to the car I noticed she looked a bit sad.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
She lifted her head and looked really unhappy.
“I’m glad you or I didn’t go to jail and all, but I feel bad that you went through all that and came out with nothing. I know how bad you wanted that phone.”
Back in the security room Dana, and the security guard were stunned as they stared into the iPhone box that held the iPod earphone, an iPod charger cable and surprisingly a Blackberry Curve.
As we drove off I unclenched my left hand and slid a brand spanking new iPhone out of my long sleeve.
“It wasn’t a total loss, I have iPod cables at home. Like I always say Angel…I always get what I want!”
THE END
Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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A Few Words (and a photo!) from the Contest Winner

Readers,


This week, I delivered the ‘My Birthday Spanking’ story contest winner his Prize…


After contacting Tim to tell him of his victory, I found that he was so happy to have won the writing contest that he shared the ‘good news’ with his lovely wife, Zoe. I promptly invited him to ask Zoe along for our playtime, and to my great good fortune she accepted.


Zoe and I had a fantastic time teaming up on Tim, and he was an amazingly good sport about the whole thing (imagine that).


They’ve been kind enough to send along a photo to share here, a few hours post-spanking. Not only can Tim take a hard spanking, but he has a surprisingly resilient bottom! (Below the photo, a few words from Tim on our fun afternoon.)


– Dana

*****

Hi Dana
 
Just wanted to say thank you again for a wonderful session yesterday. We were both delighted with how easy-going fun and friendly you were, and it felt like a very safe introduction into the wider world of spanking.  I can’t imagine a better way to spend a Sunday afternoon than being whupped by two beautiful women.
 
Zoe was particularly delighted at how well she was able to take aim when my butt was perfectly positioned on the spanking bench. She confessed afterwards that she was slightly worried about how hard my punishment was. When I pointed out that she hadn’t seemed to let that affect how hard she swung that heavy paddle on the sixth swat she just smiled and said, “of course not.”
 
Please find attached a photo we took when we got home. This was taken a good 5 hours after the event, and as you can see my butt has recovered somewhat. You can still see excellent evidence of the loopy cane and the ‘grill’ marks from your hairbrush.
 
Very best
Tim





Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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Original F/M Spanking Stories: ‘Twin Cheeks’

Here is an exceptional entry to the ‘My Birthday Spanking’ story contest, written by one of my favorite new playmates. I gave him his first spanking…and will soon deliver another. 


A true spanko, he’s even started his own blog, with an interesting perspective on the spanking lifestyle. Visit his new blogsite at: Secret Spanko.

– Dana

*****


‘Twin Cheeks’
This story took place a few years ago. It was the perfect storm of events that led to a night I’ll never forget. Although it’s led to a great deal of fantasies, it’s probably for the best that it hasn’t been repeated. 

My wife and I are spankos, I guess.  Mostly it’s foreplay that turns us on- something we discovered about each other in college.  But on occasion we’ve spanked each other “for real.”  Yes, I said each other. We’re both switches, I suppose. I’d say typically about 70/30 it’s me giving and her getting just because that seems like the more natural fit to our personalities and sexual identities. Actually it sort of fit the opposite of our personalities.  She was uptight and in control most of the time, and needed to let go and feel like someone else was completely in charge more than I did.  That was not to be the case on this night, though, which was anything but typical…

It was a Sunday night and I’d just helped brush teeth, read the same story for the fiftieth time, and tucked our two little kids into bed. My phone buzzed and it was Lauren (my wife) sending me a text. 

“Get ur suit on n get ur butt out here S wants 2 play if n bring another bottle!”

So I stripped and got my swimsuit on, stopped by the kitchen to grab another bottle of pinot grigio from the fridge. We had a bunch left from the party we had the night before. It was a birthday party for Stacy (the aforementioned “S”) who lived down the street and was my wife’s best friend.  Stacy and I actually share the same birthday, year and all, and it wasn’t really our birthday until Monday. But I wasn’t nearly as keen on celebrating mine, I guess.  Grabbed a couple of beers for me and headed out to the hot tub where my wife was enjoying the night with her friend.

Stacy is pretty much the polar opposite of my wife in every way. Lauren’s petite, brunette, and kinda curvy; Stacy’s thicker, blonde, tall, and very curvy. Lauren’s quiet, almost shy, and sharp as a tack; Stacy’s loud, outgoing, and well… Not so sharp sometimes. Lauren is for the most part straight-laced and proper, while Stacy might be described as earthy. My wife had sophisticated refined tastes, and had grown up in privilege; Stacy had grown up in a small town, and my wife said sometimes that showed.  But they had been best friends for awhile, and they complimented each other almost as well as Lauren and I did. In fact, Stacy and I had a lot in common. One could replace me with her in each of these comparisons and they still be accurate. (Well, except for maybe the “really curvey” part).  That combined with our shared birthday led to the running joke that Stacy and I were long lost twin siblings. And of all her friends I probably got along with Stacy the best, though I didn’t always care for doing things with them because Stacy’s husband Ted was so dull.  On the other hand, Ted was at home tonight, and Stacy was a big flirt, which I secretly kind of enjoyed. So I didn’t mind interrupting their girls night to join them, especially since I’d been invited er, uhm… commanded to do so.


(Make sure to click ‘Read More’ below to finish the story.)


I brought out the drinks and joined them in the hot tub. Most of the lights were off and it was a gorgeous early fall night. Greetings and a beer later, Stacy was back to these “IF” books she’s gotten the night before…

“Okay next question for you Dusty… ‘If you could live in any other historical era, which would you choose?'”

“Uhm… how about the 1880’s in the wild west. Driving cattle across the country and stopping in the little towns where the saloons had whorehouses upstairs!”

“Why did they call ’em saloons instead of just bars?” Stacy wondered aloud. 

“Dusty! Can you just try not to make everything dirty? For once?!”

“Ha. Did you catch that honey? Dusty and dirt-“

“-You’re gonna catch it tomorrow night. Just keep it up. I’ll remember, tough guy.” She wasn’t really mad, but I knew she’d remember it.

“Y’all are so cute,” Stacy chimed in, “Are ya gonna spank him?”

Lauren looked at me. 
“Well…Answer her.” I said. 

“Yes, he’ll get a spanking tomorrow night.” 

“For that though? I mean, he just answered a question.”

“Stacy, tomorrow is my birthday, remember? I’ll get a birthday spanking. Actually probably a birthday paddling. Would you like to join us? It would seem appropriate.” I said with a smirk.

“Oh NO!  No no don’t think so… I’ll let you play your kinky games but keep me out of it. No thanks!”

A little background here… Somehow late one girl talk night Stacy found out about our spanking “kinky games” and was clearly fascinated by them.  She brought it up… a lot. Of course, over the years I also heard probably way too much about her sex life, and her poops, and even her periods- and that was me!  Can’t imagine what all my wife knew about her. Like I said, she was a little “earthy.”  So maybe it was just natural curiosity that was voiced a bit more often than most in that situation, but I suspected she was really just a little TOO curious about it, and didn’t mind telling her about our spanking play, so long as she kept it to herself. 

“So even though I’ll get it regardless, I kind of like to give her some motivation. But sorry honey, I didn’t mean to give a dirty answer. I take it back. No cowboys. I’d be a pirate… searching for booty!”

This earned me a chuckle from Stacy and a splashy pinch from Lauren. 

So it continued… back to the IF questions.  We sort of rotated around the hot tub so that whoever was reading the question could see to read it from the one light.  This was interspersed with gossip about the neighbors, people that came over last night, etc… a few more drinks, until Stacy reached for the other IF book.

“Alright y’all… this is the IF book about love.  Let’s spice things up a bit.” She flipped it open, “Great one to start off with, for you Dusty. ‘If you had to have sex with someone of the same gender, which celebrity you choose?'”

“That’s a stupid question. Pass.  None of the above.”

“Nope.  Not good enough.  Gotta name somebody and give a reason why.”

“I don’t even know many celebrities. Alright, hold on… Got it,  Tom Cruise.  He’d know what he’s doing, plus he’s small so it wouldn’t hurt much.”

“Ewww!” but Stacy was laughing.

“Sick! You put way too much thought into that.  That’s some more extra. Honey?! So wrong!”

“Better watch it, Dusty!”

“Lemme see that!” I grabbed the book away from Stacy and peered close so I could read it in the dim light. “Alright my twin sister, payback’s fun.  This one’s for you.  ‘Follow up…If you had to have sex with someone of the same gender, who from among your friends and acquaintances would you choose?'”

She answered immediately. 

“You know that new couple at the end of the block that just moved in? What’s her name? Deanne or something? And her boyfriend I think his name is Val, maybe?  Met them once… Seem friendly. They both have the same black hair- kinda long for him, kinda short on her. But no way you couldn’t tell ’em apart.. Something almost scary about him, like he could be a villian in a movie or something. But she’s got a body on her though. Saw her picking up the paper in just a t-shirt the other morning when I was out jogging. I don’t know… Something kinda alternative, kinda dangerous, but naughty about her. Definitely sexy. She smiled big and waived at me that morning.  So her… That’s my answer. Whew!”

Lauren and I looked at each other with raised eyebrows. More thought went into that answer than my Tom Cruise response.  Stacy took a couple of deep breaths and had another big sip of wine. A little awkward pause…

“So Stacy… ever experiment in college?”

“Dusty! Thin ice, bud…” My wife warned me. 

“Ha! That’s alright Lauren. But I’m not going to answer, my nosey twin brother. We’re not playing truth or dare, and I wouldn’t want to spoil your fantasies!” She said with a wink, before grabbing the book from me. 

“Oh Laaauren… ‘If you could trade body parts with any of your friends and acquaintances, what would you choose?'”

“Your breasts. Dusty’s been staring at them all night.”

“I’d trade you too. If you only saw them without my swimsuit holding them up… And the backaches, and the shoulder strap indentations…”

I decided it was best to just remain silent since my wife was correct. Lauren grabbed the book back.  We weren’t strictly keeping any order. 

“Alright, Stacy…’Follow up… If you had to live with the body of one of your friends and acquaintances, who would you choose?'”

Stacy paused, took another big sip, then paused another bit before answering. Or, sort of answering. 

“Let’s play a different game. It’s called the honesty game. Dusty you were right I did experiment once in college. My sorority big sis during Hell Week. Pledges had to live with our big sisses and it got pretty intense. Never happened again though, and the next year when it was my turn my little sis didn’t respond to my clumsy post-paddling advances like I had the year before I guess.”

“Thanks for sharing, but I was half kidding and didn’t mean to pry… Sorry about that, just trying to give you a hard time.”

“No need to apologize, Dusty. Just wanted to get that off my chest. Guess my chest’s gotten plenty of attention tonight, huh?” She giggled and kind of squeezed her chest with her arms, making it (them) even more pronounced before continuing. “And I thought y’all should know that because it helps to understand my answer.”

“Don’t worry about. No need to defend yourself. Heck I’ve never experimented like that but if I had to switch bodies I’d choose  a woman’s body too. Prettier, and I know how they work too.” My wife chimed in. 

“Wait did you say you were paddled?” I added. 

“Well, no, and yes. [Big gulp finishing glass] I’d choose to be in Dusty’s body. The birthday paddling from you thing. But wouldn’t play with it or anything, don’t get any ideas there, bud.”

We let her words, and their implications sit in the air a moment.

“So you DO want a birthday spanking?!” I said with a grin. 

“Honey you’re such a dolt sometimes. Yes, and wants me to give it to her because that would take her back to that moment with her big sis in college.  Stacy, I’m more than happy to help, if that’s what you really want, but I don’t plan on “experimenting” afterwards.”

“Got it. And agree. That might make this even more awkward!  I want to, but let’s do this before I chicken out.”

“Well, it is almost midnight… But I don’t want this to be something you do without intentionally doing so with your eyes wide open and not fueled by too much wine. You know that’s a pretty severe spanking, you’re asking for, right? I know how old you are.”

“Yes, I know. If I’m being all honest here and whatever…I’ve been fascinated anytime y’all talk about your spanking games. It makes me tingle and get all nervous inside.”

I knew it!  Love it when I’m right. But on the outside I said “Wow, had no idea or I would have talked about it even more!”

“Stacy I want to make sure here… You know it’s going to hurt, a lot… And when I think of birthday spankings I think of the person getting them in their birthday suit. That’s how we’ve done them, for several years now.”

“Remember, what brought this all on is that I have been paddled- thanks for your concern, but I get it. And as far as being naked goes, I’m not all that crazy about it but I know that’s part of it too. I’ll let you answer that one question again after you see these girls floppin’ all around!” 

“I just want to make sure you’ve thought this through,” said my ever sensible wife, “what about when Ted sees your red rear end?”

“Please… We did it last night after the party so I’m good for at least a week, and can’t remember last time we had the lights on, for that matter. Tomorrow’s Monday, and he’ll be up and gone before I’m in the shower. We’re cool.”

Lauren looked at me in an attempt to share a “look” but I wasn’t sure what it meant. Oh well, I guess she did… so I sort of nodded.

“Alright, let’s do this.  Dusty will go first, and then you can decide if you still want to go through with it. How’s that sound?”

“Deal”

“Go pick out a paddle, and bring us some towels, sweetie. Oh and another bottle for afterward”

I got up out of the hot tub and headed for the “pool room” as we called it. It was a tiny half bath with a door to the backyard and a big closet for pool stuff. Looked in there and there were only two towels. Dangit. The kids were asleep, the girls wouldn’t be in, so I shucked my wet swimsuit and laid it on the counter before venturing into the house so I wouldn’t drip water all over the place.  It was only then that I realized that her “look” had probably been to make sure I was okay with this.  Of course I was, but I smiled thinking about how I just nodded.

First to the utility room to get extra towels, then to the back of our closet to get a paddle. We had several accumulated over the years, and hid them in a cabinet back behind our winter coats. I started to get excited looking at the implements and thought about what was to come. Pavlovian, I guess. On the one hand, it wouldn’t be done in our bedroom and I might have to wait for the sex to follow, but on the other hand, the thought of Stacy would more than make up for it. Now which one to pick? 

It struck me all of a sudden- perfect! Closed the cabinet in the closet  and went to dig around in the boxes in the other closet under the stairs where we kept old stuff that we didn’t use but couldn’t make ourselves get rid of… Where was it?! This was taking too long.  There it is! Finally!

It was Lauren’s old Kappa paddle. Never used on her back then, it was painted brightly with little cartoon angels and arrows and greek letters. But it would still work I thought, tapping it against my thigh.  Perfect for tonight!

Made my way to the kitchen and picked up another bottle. I had the towels under one arm, and the wine and paddle in my other hand. 

That’s funny, didn’t remember shutting the door… Put the bottle under my other arm (Brrrr!) and turned the knob… WHOOAAHH!

Okay so maybe if I were thinking or a perfect gentleman, I would have quickly backed out and shut the door. But I didn’t. 

Stacy was standing up from apparently just having used the toilet, and her one piece swimsuit was around her knees. 

“Well hello there!”

“Oh so sorry!” I said finally coming to my senses and backing out.  

“No need now. Help yourself to a good look- ha! I am!”

Arms full, I tried to cover myself with the paddle. 

“I do like a man with long hard wood hanging down between his legs!”

We both chuckled and I set the paddle down with a clatter and finally took the wine bottle out from my armpit. Her wet swimsuit was loud as she struggled a bit to pull it back up. 

“Besides, I bet we’ll be seeing plenty more of each other here pretty quick!”

Dressed now, she flushed, and picked my shorts and handed them to me. 

“Take your time!” She said with a grin, and picked up the paddle. “Nice.”

“Sorry, Lauren hates it when anyone drips water through the den coming in from the pool. Just thought it was easier like this. Uhm, why don’t you go on. Give me a chance to uh, compose myself,” I said, looking down to acknowledge my uh, state. “And let’s not mention this if you don’t mind, I think we’ll get plenty of heat as it is and don’t think Lauren needs TOO much extra motivation.”

“Okay got it. Lips are sealed. See you in a minute.”

She left, and I put the cold wet swimsuit back on. It certainly helped me “compose myself” before heading back into the night. 

“What took you so long?”

Did I trust Stacy not to tell? “Took me awhile to find this, but I thought it was plenty appropriate.”

“Awww how thoughtful. Haven’t seen this in awhile.   I’d almost forgotten about it. Why haven’t we used it before?”

“Lemme see… Wow, this is just about the same as I remember her using”  
Well, Stacy was playing her part. So far so good. 

“Alright sweetie… You know birthday spankings are in your birthday suit. Come here.”

I went over and she untied the draw strings and pulled my shorts off again.         
“I need to be able to see what I’m doing, and I’m sure Stacy wouldn’t mind a better view too. Run hit the porch lights and the pool lights for me, will you?”

I should have guessed that was coming. Bless her heart she knows that when I do submit to her spankings, I have a love/hate relationship to the embarrassment almost as much as with the pain. We had a big yard though and backed up to the golf course- surely no one was out there now, right? The lights now on, I strolled back to the hot tub in full view of the two of them, who stared openly. 

“Right over here… Hands on your knees.” She patted my bottom a few times. “You probably don’t know this Stacy but for whatever reason, we’ve discovered that a spanking on a wet bottom hurts a lot more. I was going to give him a warm up with my hand, but would you like to have the honor?”

“Uhm, okay!” She popped right up. 

“Not too hard, but not too soft either just [smack!] like this all [smack] over his little bottom,” She demonstrated. 

“I think I can handle that”

Smack. Smack. 

My wife stood to the side, rubbing my back. “Feet a little further apart dear.  And Stacy, feel free to admire his birthday suit.  I happen to think it’s well made, even the seam here…” She interrupted my warm-up to trace her hand up my leg and my uh, seam. Stacy got a few bum squeezes in before matching Lauren’s actions, and if anything was even more aggressive in checking out the nooks and crannies of my “suit” before beginning to warm my seat up.  

“You know what, let me show you something. You’re standing too close, that’s why it feels a little awkward.  Really for a warm up in this position, I like to wrap my other arm around his waist, like this.  And your other hand goes down here and you can rub his belly, or make sure he’s sticking it out enough, or even tease him just a little.  Most importantly, you can [smack!] get a good swing [smack!] like this too.  Alright, you try.”

Stacy sort of leaned over me and wrapped her arm around me.  First thing I noticed was the difference between my wife’s smooth skin next to me and Stacy in her cool still-damp swimsuit pressed next to me and my wife’s familiar skin in Lauren’s two piece suit.  Maybe surprisingly given the size difference, Stacy didn’t spank as hard as my wife, even if it was just a warm up.  But her other hand… that was far closer to well, me… than any unfamiliar hand had been in over a decade, and it was pretty exciting, even as the sting was building in my bottom.    

“I think he’s plenty ready” my lovely wife said, picking up the paddle, “I think you’ll need to brace yourself a bit more for this. Let’s have you gripping the wall; stick it out a little more… that’s it.  Here we go… count ‘em.”

“Wider stance… And get your back down, I like to see the family jewels dance, and I bet Stacy will too!”

They both chuckled as I complied and then wiggled a little to give them a show. 

The rock wall I gripped was rough and dusty, but still my palms were sweating profusely. I knew this was going to hurt, and not only that but I had an audience. And not only that but an audience I didn’t really want to break down in front of… wait was I trying to impress Stacy? Was that okay or was that wro–

WHACK!

NnNgggrrah…that hurt! The first couple always seemed to hurt the most. 

“Happy Birthday dear!” She said cheerfully. 

GAAAaaaah! Another one. Like a teacher strict the 1st week of school the first few were full force to show- AAAaaaRrrggh! -she meant business, I guess. 

“That was three, sweetie, I need you to count ’em for me.”

POP!

“Four!”

SMACK!

“Uuuunnh… Five”

Less intense now, they still hurt plenty. I wasn’t caring much now about putting on a show.  But I got the -“MMmmuhh- Six!”- impression that she was toning it down just a bit so as not to scare our -OOooww! Dangit! Right-in-the-same-spot!- audience that was about to get hers. The swats continued, gradually increasing in intensity. We hadn’t used that sorority paddle in a long time and it sure packed a wallop. I turned my head around to look at her and confirmed that the mental image of my wife in her bikini holding the paddle was indeed sexy in real life too. Then I saw Stacy with a naughty looking smirk on her face clearly enjoying the show. 

“Aaah… twenty-seven!”

“Turn back around, dear.”

WHACK!

“GGgrrrrr… Twenty-eight”

“That one really hurt, didn’t it?”

“Uhm, yeah, I’d say it really did!”

“Good.  Little harder now, sweetie. Finish strong for me.”

Yes, the last few were plenty strong. Especially the “one-to-grow-on” final swat. My knees buckled briefly, and she set the paddle down to fondle, squeeze, and caress my cheeks. 

“Stace, come here and feel how warm they are.”

Four hands massaging and squeezing my cheeks was nice. Two fingers pointing out and then poking the spots that hurt the worst was not so much fun. I just stayed in position, breathing deeply and trying to recover. 

“Can I give him a couple to grow on too?” Stacy asked my wife. 

“I don’t know- he’s marked up pretty good already.”

“Come on Dusty, you can take a couple more, right? Please? Say yes. Do it for me.” Stacy pleaded in her sexiest voice, leaning in against me and rubbing my back and shoulders for emphasis. 

“Alright.”

Stacy clapped her hands together with glee as my wife handed her the paddle and gave her instructions as to where to hit me.

She put one hand on my back and took a swing. OWWW! Sort of hit the outside of one cheek. The next one was a more solid pop, but not as hard as those from my wife. 

“That’s it honey, you’re done. You can get up and rub. Happy birthday dear.”

We kissed then, but mindful of our audience kept it pretty tame. I jumped around a little bit in my energized post-spanking state. This made Stacy giggle as she saw a certain part of me flop around. 

“Alright you’re up. Still want to go through with this Stace?”

There was a moment of silence as Stacy looked down, hands covering her face and she appeared deep in thought. Her head came halfway up as she looked right at me, and then down a little before turning back to Lauren. 

“Okay let’s do this, but I wanna keep my suit on.”

“Nope. I need to see your bare bottom to judge the swats.” 

“Well look, I can just do this.” Stacy said, turning around and bunching up her swimsuit into her bottom between her cheeks. 

“Stace, come on…”

“Yeah what happened to birthday spankings in our birthday suit my little twin sister?!”

“Problem is there’s nothing little about me. But guess y’all are right. What’s the old saying? In for a penny… about to see a lot of pounds!”  

She slipped the shoulder straps of her suit down. 

“Nonsense Stacy, you look great.” I said trying to be helpful (and very much looking forward to warming her up!)

We were both staring at Stacy as she peeled her swimsuit down to her waist. 

“Y’all are making me blush!” I was pretty sure she wasn’t blushing and despite trying to protest and act modest, in reality she was enjoying putting on a show.  ***** “Not passing any pencil test, that’s for sure! Still want these, Lauren?”  

“I want ’em.” Crap! Why did I let that slip out?! That was supposed to have remained an inner thought!

Lauren looked over at me, then looked down, and didn’t like what she saw, I guess. 

“You look lovely Stace. But you know what, Hon, I think you need to cool off a bit. Why don’t you take a dip in the pool. Maybe swim a couple of laps while I warm her up.” 

“But I-” and then I saw her look and knew exactly what she meant this time. She meant business. So I turned around and stepped into the frigid-feeling water. My “excitement” disappeared instantly. The minute my sore rear end hit the water it did feel kinda good, I guess it was like an ice pack.  I wasn’t happy about missing the show, but probably it was for the best. I really should not be lusting after Stacy like that.   The water wasn’t THAT cold and I eventually got used to it. It felt nice to swim naked and working my sore legs and ass felt good too. Done with a couple of laps, I looked up at my wife spanking Stacy. I really didn’t want to miss the show. 

I saw Stacy bend over further to grab the wall, her warm-up complete.  I decided to get out of the pool just as my wife was picking up the paddle. 

Bbbbrrrr… The night air hit me. And here I thought the water was cold!

Toweling off, I quickly made my way over to them and stood near my Lauren, who was about to begin.   Your turn, little missy…

Stacy was bent over just as I had been, grasping the stone wall. So much for not lusting after my neighbor. *** The tan lines on her round bottom were still visible but less pronounced where the lines were blurred by the pink remnants of her warm-up. 

“Don’t worry about counting these. I’ll keep track. You just try to relax and take them like a big girl.” My wife said, tapping the paddle against Stacy’s rear. 

Pop!

“That was one”

Pop! 

“Two”

She didn’t start off strong like she did with me I noted.  They must have still stung though, because Stacy would clench her cheeks or make cute little sounds after each one.

However, the swats started to gradually increase in intensity. I set the towel down on the table, but then wasn’t sure what to do with my hands. I didn’t exactly have pockets. I watched my sexy wife wield the paddle wearing just a bikini. I watched the jiggling impacts on Stacy’s bottom, seeing it turn red and knowing how much it hurt. Maybe most of all, I heard the adorable little whimpers, sighs, murmers and even growls Stacy was making with each swat… Well,my hands drifted toward a part of me that was again in a decidedly non-shrivelled state. 

Woops. My wife noticed. 

“Know what darling? I think you’re enjoying this show a little too much. Why don’t you got sit your hot butt over there on the wall right next to Stacy. And go ahead and sit on your hands… I’d hate for the rough rock to hurt your bottom- that’s my job!”


“Stacey, how are you doing?” Lauren continued, “We’re about half way there.”

“I’m alright. It hurts. Just keep going- get it over with.”

“Oh no no no… You’ve had this fantasy for years- decades even.  Rather than get it over with, we should instead savor it!” Shesaid with mock sweetness dripping from her voice,   “Dusty’s up there- spread your legs a bit, bottom out and brace yourself.  These will be a little stronger.”

And they were. Numbers 15 through 20 were not quite full arm swings, but were clearly tougher for her to take. Stacy’s head was down and she made louder adorable noises with each whack. 

“Get your back down Stace. Arch your back for me. I know they hurt, but you can’t curve your back like that- I don’t want to hit up high. Tell you what, I want you to get your head up and look up at Dusty. That’ll help keep your butt out right. 
Stacy moved her hair out of the way and looked up at me. Without warning, another blow came to her backside, causing her to wince in pain and making her breasts (now completely visible to me) to dance a little wobbly jig of their own.

“Twenty-one”

Stacey looked back at me, but her gaze drifted down… until she saw that non-shrivelled part and looked back up again at my face, smiling and briefly rolling her eyes before scrunching up her face in pain again.  Yes I was sitting on my hands, but the fact that her pretty face was about two feet from that part of me was certainly not helping as my wife had probably hoped. Nor did the lovely view of her arched back and the tops of her bottom cheeks rising up behind her help much either.

“Bet you didn’t have this view back at your Big Sis’s place.” I couldn’t resist adding.

“Ow OW OWW-Eee!”

“Twenty-five; almost there, Stace”

“Bet you never thought you’d- AAwwgrrhah!”

“Twenty-six”

“-get that thing as close to me again after the bathroom! GgGggrr! Mmmmm! Dangit!”

“Took you two swats to think up a comeback and that’s it?” I said with a smile as my wife announced it was twenty-seven and Stacey stood up to rub her butt. (And simultaneously give me another full view of her body!)

“Not so fast sweetie… You need at least one to grow on.” My wife chimed in, pushing her back down, “And what was that about the bathroom?” 

Whack! 

“Mmmmhhmm… That was a good one to grow on. Thank you ma’am!”

“Back down. Stacey? …I suggest you tell me.”

“Nothing. Don’t worr-AAaaah! Oww!”

“Dusty I know how stubborn Stacy can be. Why don’t you do the chivalrous thing and tell me what’s going on.  I’m not stopping until I find out.” 

Whack!

“Well sweetie you know how you don’t like it when I drip water from wet swimsuits on the carpet?”

Whack!

“What does that have to do with anything?”

Whack!

“I had my swimsuit off when I went in to get the paddle and towels, and Stacey took off her swimsuit to use the bathroom. I had no idea she’d be in there. It was nothing… Really.” I said, genuinely meaning it.

Lauren did not look happy.  In fact, she came over and grabbed a hold of my ear. 

“If it was nothing, why didn’t y’all tell me about it? Join your conspirator. Right there.”

She took awhile getting our butts lined up right next to each other and at the same height. Not gonna lie… I kind of did enjoy our butts touching each other, though I wasn’t going to mention it right then.

“Alright you two… I’m really disappointed in you both.  Here we are playing these [Whack] spanking games and it requires quite a bit of [Whack] trust on the part of us all.”

She interspersed swats to each of us as she spoke, going on about how this had really upset her.    

“Here’s what we’re going to do… twenty-seven more, and I’ll one to each of you, then one on the two cheeks in the middle, then one to the other.”

 And so it went.  These were full force, and we both struggled to take them.  The flaw in her plan was that our middle cheeks got it twice!  Stacy’s adorable little noises were not so little, and both of us cried out in one way or the other at every swat.  Our hands were right next to each other, and at one point Stacey just grabbed a hold of mine.  I realized that this was probably not the greatest of ideas given the reason for our spanking, but in the moment grabbing a hold of each other was what was needed to make it through the ordeal.  She wasn’t bawling, but her eyes were full of tears.  It was so intense we did not even realize immediately that it was over.

“Alright you two… Those are a set of ripe red twin cheeks… I think you’ve learned your lesson.”

I was sent to get the lotion while the two of them talked and made up or did whatever women do after something like that.  I came back and the last bottle of wine was open, but Stacy was still standing as she drank it.  Lauren put lotion on each of us; I sure wasn’t going to volunteer to help!  

Fortunately, it wasn’t awkward. (The wine helped.)  Stacey said that it was definitely more intense than her paddlings in the sorority days, and that once a decade or so was enough.  Hugs all around (after she delicately put her swimsuit on again) and Stacy left out the gate.  Left completely unsaid were my thoughts about what came after the paddlings and her sorority days experimentations.  I guess she could take care of that herself when she got home.  Fortunately for us, we didn’t need to experiment sexually after a spanking.  We knew just what to do.

“Happy Birthday dear.  I’m not mad.  I just don’t want you to try and hide something from me.” She said, with her arms around me, between kisses.

“I’m really truly sorry sweetie.  I should have volunteered that instead of hoping that it just wouldn’t come up.”

“Fortunately, something else has come up and recovered quite nicely, I see.”

“You see? Or you feel?”

“Come on… let’s go inside and finish this.”

That was our euphemism for doing it after a spanking.  Why we needed a euphemism? Don’t know.  Could have just said lets go boink like bunnies.  But it was always “Let’s finish it.”  And we did.





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Angel’s Pre-Punishment Blog


Readers,


Another nice entry from Angel, who will be receiving this punishment…today.


*****

It’s possible the VBB now has some competition in the “naughtiness” department and I am hoping his very nice wife (both of whom wished me well regarding my injury) will allow him to sympathize with my angst and provide me with some advice on how to deal with this anxiety.  And Dana, of course, who is ultimately in charge of comment approval.
Anyway, I am currently in a predicament that was recently, sort of, within my control. But now I’ve been completely stripped of any management of this situation because my Mistress has become indirectly involved and last night She threatened to call Dana – although She insists it wasn’t a threat.  Kevin and I think differently. 
We were at the studio and I was in too much pain and too exhausted to travel.  We both missed our Mistress terribly and when She called to check on us, we put Her on speakerphone.  We were having a great time for about an hour.  She made me forget how tired and horrible I was feeling.  I was supposed to go back to Her apartment but I couldn’t make it.  So, I was very sad. It was really nice that She kept Her little slaves company during their sleepover.  She had us both in hysterics and everything was great for a while.
However, towards the end of the night – I, naturally, made some sort of comment that She deemed inappropriate – even though I was joking. I swear on everything dear to me, I was totally joking.   We were talking about Dana and I (please make note of this – JOKINGLY) told my Mistress that Ms. Dana couldn’t do anything to me or Kevin because she’s not our Mistress. Kevin got a little chuckle out of it – mostly because he knew that was ridiculous and I wasn’t at all serious, but our Mistress did not see the humor.  I’m afraid this might be turning into a Ms. Mona Rogers-ish relationship for me and Kevin. 
Mistress Mona is second in command and now Ms. Dana has her own powers, as well.  This could be good or bad.  This means she could play with Kevin and I if we are good and she is in the mood (and really, has this woman ever NOT been in the mood to spank somebody for some reason or another???) or she can punish us if we are bad and she doesn’t have to request specific permission.  It’s pretty clear she’s been “preapproved” since her last visit to NY.  Perhaps that’s why DN got upset, because I already know this.  I wasn’t joking about a Mistress or Dominant who hasn’t been granted any authority.  Whatever the case, She was mildly offended.
I, umm, don’t think I’m allowed to joke anymore until I get my attitude under control.  Immediately following my little “funny” is when DN said She was strongly considering calling Dana directly.  I suppose the intent of this would be so that there would be no uncertainly on Dana’s part regarding her level of interaction with us.  Ms. Dana is extremely respectful as a Top and highly protocol oriented – so I could see where she might be hesitant to punish one of us (if such a situation were to arise) if she didn’t have distinct permission to do so.
It sounded like DN wanted to make it clear to Dana personally that she has the authority to discipline us when we are in her presence.  Maybe she was thinking Kevin and I would try some kind of trickery and try to keep this information from Dana  However, neither of us would do that because DN would consider that lying by omission – and that is very frowned upon by our Mistress.  I’m sure Dana doesn’t think it’s too great, either.  Kevin hasn’t been spanked for this yet.  But I couldn’t sit down for a very long time after She tricked me into confessing something that I didn’t directly lie about; I just wasn’t exactly forthcoming.  Apparently, not telling IS a lie.
So, yes, I already told Dana that DN has extended Her permission for play/discipline/punishment and of course anything work related.  I hope DN doesn’t think I lied.  But Kevin and I were both frozen in fear at the thought that She might call Dana, anyway. The room went completely silent and Kevin and I looked at each other for a brief second, our faces contorting into expressions of distress before we both began pleading with Her not to.  Kevin is not in trouble with Dana, but now he officially knows he can be, and I saw the blood drain from his face.  At one point DN asked us why we were so quiet and reminded us “no one had died” and there was no need to be so somber.  Except there kind of is.
Okay, okay – what the hell am I getting at already, you all must be wondering.  Where’s the spanking?  Well, it’s coming.  Literally.  Sunday, the 13th of November: somewhere between 5 and 8pm.  Dana and I had a “play date,” scheduled.  However, I did ask her if we could incorporate actual discipline into the session as I am truly having a problem with letting my emotions dictate my behavior – my injury was actually partially the result of an angry outburst.  No one got hurt but me, don’t worry.  Beyond that I really felt awful that I had upset my Mistress and was not entirely feeling deserving of a perfectly enjoyable session – especially because Dana’s visit had a little something to do with DN not wearing out my bottom the week of the transgression, which would have made it impossible for me to interact with Dana, considering how hard my Mistress was intending to spank me.
I was pretty honest with Dana, and I certainly didn’t have to twist her arm to get her agree to some true domestic discipline for real-life infractions.  However, because I had suggested it myself – I assumed I’d have some liberties to adjust the session if necessary: i.e. if Dana starts spanking me too hard or in ways that I particularly dislike, mercy would be granted easily and << I >> could determine the level of discipline I didn’t want to surpass for either physical or psychological reasons.
However, this has all dramatically shifted and this is how it happened:
DN and I were resting in bed.  She was so nice and loving to me despite everything – I imagine it’s because She very much knows how much I love and adore Her, despite my childish and bratty behavior at times.  We spoke about a lot of things, including being “accountable.”  I told Her that I was honest with Dana and requested some discipline for my poor behavior.  DN was very on-board with this idea, and while I certainly didn’t think She’d have any objections –  I wasn’t exactly expecting it to go much further than that.  I was wrong.
“What is Dana going to do to you for acting like this?” DN asked me.
I suddenly felt afraid and honestly told her I was completely clueless.   I have no idea what Dana is going to do to me.  What I do know is that not only did DN tell me I was to let Dana know she had her full consent to actually PUNISH me (yes She used the bad scary word), but that also I was to give Dana a list outlining the specific ways I dislike being spanked.  This goes without saying (although I’m pretty sure DN actually did say it) that she wants Dana to know to best way punish me if this is something she wants to take on during our scene – and now that she has the necessary go-ahead; I can’t really see her declining.  This is very bad.   While I completely trust Dana, I’m having a hard time coming to terms with the fact that I really have no control now.  I felt this the moment Dana turned her suggestion that I send her the list (after an entire paragraph rambling and whining about it) into a pretty clear directive: “Angel.  Send me the list.  Now please.”  I guess that settled it, although I won’t lie and say I wasn’t curious to know what she would have done if I had “forgot” to send it or just told her “No.  I don’t want to.” I don’t really think she gets mad, but that would probably qualify as an #introuble. (Sorry – twitter withdrawal.  DN punished me from twitter and this is the only way I can get my fix) So, Dana has the list.  But I’m mad that she made me send it to her.  I’m mad that my Mistress got involved and now I have no control over the situation. I’m mad that I can’t change my mind. Yes, I am mad.
I am also utterly conflicted.  There’s an extremely genuine part of me that cries out to be punished and repent and receive the imparted lesson with a willing spirit and heart, and of course I could use the therapeutic effects that occur from a punishment both during and after the experience.  I also know that my Mistress would appreciate it and that maybe it would afford me a little extra forgiveness and possibly getting twitter back by accepting to be “accountable”.  And if the spanking is aversive enough to help me control my behavior – it’s not something I should resist for the sake of my health, sanity and relationships.
However, as much as I hate to admit this – there is a rebellious part of me that wants nothing to do with it.  The spirit of rebellion grew more “spirited” once my Mistress told me to tell Dana she could punish me for my overflowing inability to control my emotions and attitude – if that is something she feels comfortable doing.  And the rebellion secretly skyrocketed after I had to send Dana the “list.”  I don’t think any more honesty can hurt me at this point. 
So I am really having very contradictory attitudes towards this experience.  I am excited about seeing Dana, very excited. And I am more than intrigued to know what it might be like to actually be punished by her in a serious way for behaviors that actually need to be punished because they are dramatically affecting my life. But I could totally live with that curiosity going unfulfilled as I’m also somewhat terrified because I know Dana knows exactly what she is doing – which won’t be good for me in the moment, but will be once it’s over. It’s really the “moment” I am worried about.  I am afraid she will utilize the list and I am even more afraid that I might have a poor reaction to this.  I’m sure she can handle it, but I might not be able to handle it if I don’t get what I want. 
However, I have a strong feeling one way or another it will end with me in remorseful tears after ultimately being spanked into submission and repentance.  Obviously, we’ll keep you posted.
True Brat, aka, Angel


(More from Angel at littleprincessofpain.wordpress.com)
Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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F/M Spanking Stories: ‘When I get Older’

Sung to the tune of ‘When I’m Sixty-Four’ by the Beatles, this ‘song’ tickles me to no end for it’s fun style and thoughtful rhyming. Many thanks to the songwriter for his entry in the ‘My Birthday Spanking’ Story Contest.

*****

Stairlift is broken, zimmer frame too
Many years from now
Will you still be sending us for corner time
Birthday spankings, hearing us whine

If you have spanked us, over your knee
Will we ask for more
Smacks they are slowing, but bottoms still glowing.
When your sixty four


You’ll be older soon,
And if you say the word,
We will thank you too..
Keeping the paddle, handy to see
No holes barred and Cane
You can make us shiver almost any time
Tell us when we step out of line

Sitting at dinner, wiggling around
Coz our butts are sore
Joints they are creaking
Its Advil your seeking
When your sixty four.

Looking at wheelchairs, feeling the cold
Sitting by the fire
Memories of spankings past, forever on line
Making sure we get home on time

Have a great birthday, presents galore
You should ask for more
Will you still meet us,
remember to beat us.
When your sixty four..

*****
Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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Original F/M Spanking Story: ‘Michael Clicked on His Favourites’


 Readers,


Here is another excellent entry to the ‘My Birthday Spanking’ Story Contest, and another reason why I wish that I could award each entrant with a ‘prize’ all his/her own. Enjoy.


– Dana

*****

‘Michael Clicked on His Favourites’

Michael clicked on his favourites… KTO, and the page appeared..
And there she was, this stunning, beautiful 38 year old lady, standing holding the cane, about to spank the man on the bed, his bottom already red..
He checked what was new.. then went to the Trust post, his answer was still there.. How had he written that? What had caused him to blurt out the secret that he had kept inside?
Was it her face? Was it how, on a video clip, she had started to break the blood vessels on a cute bottom, and started on something else?

He scrolled down to the videos clips..
Which ones would he watch today? Before the Party, After the Party, he saw that red top, that pencil skirt…His Spanking one and two…Product testing, so close to his fantasies, Yet not his ultimate fantasy..
He clicked on the play button and closed his eyes… the audio came through his headphones, and he relaxed, letting what he knew would happen take effect..
Smack after smack after smack rained down on his bottom… he could hear her words, soothing, punctuated by a deep breath, a stop that, stop kicking, I’ve had it with the wiggling..
He felt every smack on his bottom, odd numbers, even numbers, the same side, a different side
Then another sound, the tawse, then a long, thin, wooden paddle.. He could feel them on his bottom.. feel the warmth building…how would they feel in real life?
How would he cope with that? The paddling, The No Holes Barred?
Would he hold his breath when commanded to? Could he stop himself saying yellow? 

Then Michael ended with Product Testing, and the warmth flowed through him..

He opened his eyes, and saw the time.. He switched off the internet, ran the history clearer, and went for a shower. The phone rang
Good afternoon Mr XXXX, your taxi has arrived..

Be right there, Michael said, and put on his suit jacket.. looked at himself in the mirror, checked his keys, and wallet, and card key, and closed the door. 
He walked through reception, smiled at the lady behind the desk, and stepped out into the heat, then got in the taxi waiting outside..

This address, said Michael..
Going anywhere nice, said the taxi driver,
Yes.. said Michael, I am going to get my birthday present to myself.
They stopped at the address, he paid the driver, and walked up the path.
Dana opened the door… 
Your late for your birthday spanking, she said.. not a good start young man, she said tapping her cane.


I walked through the door…
*****
Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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F/M Spanking Story: ‘Close to Home’

A very well-written (slightly edited for somewhat naughty content) entry for the ‘My Birthday Spanking’ Story Contest, ‘Close to Home’ is further proof of the creativity of the readers and contributors to this blog. Thank you.


– Dana

*****

‘Close to Home’


Chapter 1

“Gggrrruuuunnnh…”

Wow that hurt!  I was really struggling, and stood up breathing fast but deeply. I turned around to look at her. 

“C’mon John… You can take one more. Let’s get you to ‘six of the best’ …you’ve taken it so well… remember when you were only going to try for three?  If you took those extra two you may as well make it to six, right?” 

Dana gave me that cute impish smile of hers.   “Do it for me. Back down you go. One more. Remember- widen your stance a little and get your back down… I like to see all of you.”

So back down I went, and she lifted my shirt tail up on my back again, caressing me as she did so. 

Our “session” was over, and this had started off as a light hearted before-you-leave-you’ve-got-to-try-the-cane-just-a little-to-get-the-full-DanaKane-experience thing. But it had grown from there. I felt like I truly was at the edge of my limits. I was wrong, but first there was the matter of that last stroke. 

“Get ready John. This one’s going to hurt.”

Really? I couldn’t have gues –AAAAHH OWwww…OH Fu… Holy Mother of… Sonuva… That REALLY hurt. So bad that I didn’t stand up but just collapsed on the bed. 

Dana came over to comfort me, rubbing my back and the welts on my rear.  Also some mischievous pinching and poking at those welts.  We talked about the marks a bit, and she asked how this compared to both my expectations of our session and to playdates when I was the one spanking ladies. Gradually, I composed myself. (The view of her legs in that skirt combined with the way she was sitting helped a little.) Dana explained how proud she was of me, especially for a newbie.  

My butt was still throbbing, but soon I was feeling elated. I got up from the bed and started walking around the room- strangely excited. I’d done it!  I took my first ever spanking, and then took six of the best on top of that! 

I went over to Dana and we shared a genuine hug. My arms were wrapped around her, and hers around me, when she slid her hand down and grabbed my still sore rear end and gave it a squeeze. ***

“John there’s still one last matter we need to take care of. I don’t want you to miss out on your birthday spanking.”

Gulp. Remove hand quickly…I thought she’d forgotten about that. Time to backtrack… “That’s okay Dana. Pretty sure I’ve had enough, and besides, I was just joking in those emails. Remember I even offered to give you your birthday spanking too!  Cause our birthdays were so close together, it was kinda funny. HaHa…I was really just trying to be funny…joking… thanks for offering, but maybe you’ll be back in Houston this time next year. Besides, I know my time’s up and know your time is valuable.”

“Well, I certainly didn’t forget, but was going to let it go until just now.  Seems like you’re still plenty fiesty. I’d be remiss if I didn’t correct that, and besides, John, who else is going to give you a birthday spanking?  It’s something I want to do. Think of it as my little birthday present to you!”

“Only thing is…” she started unbuttoning my shirt, “birthday spankings I think are best received by those in their birthday suits! Now finish stripping down, all the way. Fold your clothes and stand at attention when you’re done.  I’ll be right back.”

*****
 I could hear her rustling around in her implement bag.  She returned carrying a large but fairly thin wooden paddle, and laid it down on the table before coming up to me. 

***** 

“Now, bend over again. Not all the way down on your elbows this time- just your hands. Stick your butt out some more.” 

I heard the rattle as she picked up the paddle from the table. I thought about protesting once more, I felt great, but was afraid my rear would look like raw hamburger meat after 36 paddle swats. Oh well, I was along for the ride and gripped the covers tightly in my hands. 
She placed one hand on my back, and I could feel the wooden paddle rubbing both cheeks. 

“Count these out for me, birthday boy”

Pop! 

The first one was frankly not as hard as I’d braced myself for- more than a tap, but not a full thwack or swat as I’d expected.

“One”

Hey, I think I can take this, I thought to myself. They stung, but weren’t so bad…

“Fourteen!”

Starting to sting a lot. Was it my imagination or were the getting a little harder?

POP!

“Fifteen”

“You know I don’t get into the whole ‘thank you mistress’ bit, but I think you should make more of an effort than just counting the number- vary it if you want to.”

Smack!

“Sixteen. Thank you Dana.” Yes, these were definitely getting harder…

“Aaah… Twenty-one. ‘preciate it ma’am.”

My butt was on fire. The whole thing. I couldn’t even tell where each swat landed…OH! Never-mind…Yeah, I could. 

“Thirty-four, oh please…Dana”

Almost there, just hang on tight…

Whack!

“Thirty-five, I’ll always remember my thirty-fifth birthday thank you!”

“And one to grow on…”

“Ooof! Thank you. Thank you Dana!”

Whack!

“Hey?!”

“Well I’m not sure if I’ll be here again next year this time so…”

Whack!

“…thought I should cover next year too!”

Whack!

“You forgot to count. We’re on two.”

“Two. Thank you.”

They went on. Each one a real paddle swat now, and I struggled to maintain my composure. The worst was having to vocalize- the number was now preceded by unintelligble groans. 

“Grrrr ah ah twenty-two thank you”

Splat!

“Owow no please please twenty three ma’am.”

This went on and about midway through the twenties I could feel my vision blurring… closed my eyes and felt a tear trickle down my cheek. That actually helped my resolve.  Well, at least for a couple more until once again I was at the point of losing it. 

“No OWw oh… That one really… Ow. Thirty one. Thanks”

“I know it hurts John. It’s supposed to. But you’re doing so well taking it. I’m not going to go easy on these last few.”

As she said this, she laid the paddle down and rubbed my butt. At one point her hand teased my crack. In spite of the pain it still sent another kind of jolt through me. 

“Let’s finish up. I know it hurts. It’s okay to let go.”

CRACK!

“Aaaaah!! Thirty…thirty something uhm.. Ma’am.” 

“That was thirty two dear. And now again…”

CRACK!

I was immediately right back where I was before the break, if not worse. My voice was cracking with each attempt to count, and the tears were flowing. My bottom was covered in flames. 

“Haaarrnnggh! Ungh ah ah thirty.. Thirty four ma’am”

WHAACK!!

“Aaaahhh Nnngguhh No ahhh.. THIRTY-FIVE MA’AM!!”

I did let go at that point and just collapsed. One to grow on was thankfully just a tap as Dana recognized that I had truly reached my limit. Again the comforting. This time she brought out a bottle of lotion and soothed my burning cheeks. All the emotions from the last time were there, just magnified. When I got up I was flying higher on endorphins than right after taking the cane.

*****
Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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Give ’til it Hurts: Spanking for Charity



Readers,


In 2012, I will begin organizing and planning several fundraising ideas to coincide with community events all over the country.


The general idea is a ‘Get a Spanking for Charity’-type fundraising booth at spanking parties (held by groups such as Chicago’s Crimson Moon) where all donations will go directly to an animal charity organization in that group’s local area.  I will not be selling product at these events, and every dollar given will be passed along to the chosen non-profit organization. 


I have always been involved in animal charities, and have had, thus far, a life full of the love of pets I’ve adopted, found, or rescued. There are thousands of worthy places to donate money, and I will make careful choices of the local organizations doing good work. They all need lots of funding, and I cannot imagine a more fun way to help out than Spanking for Charity.


When you’re planning your party schedule and budget for 2012, please remember to put aside a few dollars for what I hope you’ll agree is a worthy cause, and a helluva lot of fun.


– Dana

Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
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F/M Spanking Stories: ‘My Birthday Spanking’ entry


A really great entry to the ‘My Birthday Spanking’ story contest, this untitled story from a contributor who I’ll call ‘Anthony’ is another example of the wonderful imaginations at work in this (and every) contest. Enjoy!
-Dana 
*****

Today was what some would call a “special” day. That’s what they tell you when you’re small as you wait in mind-bending anticipation of the cake that’s larger than your head and the gifts that pile up from friends and family. You see, things are a little different when you’re older. Birthday’s lose the magic that once made them the highlight of the year, right next to Christmas (and if you’re really zealous about egg hunts) Easter. Maybe Halloween if you can tolerate all the candy, but I was more a cookie kinda guy, and you don’t get cookies on Halloween. I did get relentlessly tricked and teased however, which made it my least favorite “holiday.”
Every year past my 21st birthday, things got a little on the depressing side. Nothing to look forward to. I’d past the drinking age long ago and really what was left to look forward to but milestones that come with absolutely no benefit but a 2 digit number that will slowly vanish into another, larger, two digit number. And if you make it to the 3 digits chances are you won’t even remember your own name at that point. No, I didn’t like where this getting older “thing” was headed. 6 grays hairs was enough for me to denounce the celebratory process of aging.
I decided to sit this birthday out. I didn’t thank anyone for the cards, especially not my little sister Jillian who sent me one that said, “Congratulations. You survived another birthday,” with a picture of St. Peter looking distracted. I got mad at my sweet, elderly parents for asking me what kind of gift I wanted. They never stopped believing I was 10. I declined the free drinks my co-workers offered me at “guys night out.” Yeah. This sucked. I even shut off the lights and pretended not to be home when my girlfriend showed up with my favorite ice-cream pie. I guess I forgot to tell her I wasn’t celebrating this year. Not answering the door was my way of hoping she’d get the hint without any face-to-face contact.
That turned out to be a “fail” moment when she texted me to answer the door because she knew I was home. I meant to park around the corner and not in the driveway to avoid that problem, but it’s hard to think of everything when you’re depressed. I didn’t answer the door. I could tell Lisa was insulted, and annoyed. Apparently (from what I see through the peephole, anyway) the ice-cream pie was melting through the box onto what looked like a very expensive and sexy sweater she must have bought for the unwanted occasion. But no one told her to stand there with the pie for 20 minutes and no one told her to buy a new sweater either. And another thing, how was I supposed to foresee her dropping the whole thing onto the porch when she tried to text me for the 37th time? I turned the phone off after a while. Lisa remained knocking at the door for another 10 minutes while I watched TV in the windowless basement with the sound muted. Good thing I never gave that woman a key. Clearly she was not good at taking hints. But surely I could not be held responsible for this.
At least I didn’t think I could be. I went to bed without a guilty conscience. Depression trumps guilt. I woke up feeling relieved I had missed my birthday and turned my phone on to a 30 second straight string of beeps indicating missed calls and messages. No need to check. I knew what they were. “Happy birthday this.” “Happy birthday that” “Damnit Anthony, I’m on the frekin’ porch and I know you’re home! Answer the F’en door!” I guess I started to feel a little bad that I ignored Lisa. But that’s what money’s for and why it’s a darn good thing I’m a good lawyer. I could talk my way out of anything and nobody would be the wiser. I’d buy her a new sweater and maybe some roses because I couldn’t remember the kind of flowers she actually likes. Or, I’d have my secretary do it because I don’t even know where the flower shop is.
I decided that’s what I’d do after I took my shower, not realizing my plans were going to be thwarted, not to mention my entire schedule rearranged. I had taken the day off work to play golf but I never made it to the club. The doorbell rang while I still had my towel wrapped around my waist from the shower. I looked through the peephole to find this very attractive woman in attire befitting a professor or business woman. She had beautiful, silky but short black hair and piercing gray-blue eyes that very nicely complimented her ruby lip gloss. She looked stern in her short black skirt and fancy pumps with a white blouse she wore unbuttoned, revealing a navy shirt underneath. She held a briefcase in her right hand and wore sunglasses on her head.
I was reluctant to answer, but thought I’d get a morning thrill out of answering the door in my towel. I figured she was either trying to sell me a vacuum or bible. What great fun that would be to respond so immodestly. I opened the door with a wide grin on my face. A grin that quickly dissolved when the woman spoke.
“Anthony Rabino?” she asked.

(Don’t forget to click ‘Read More’ below to read the full post.)


“Yeah.” I was a bit taken aback that she knew my name. How did the salespeople do this nowadays? She must have gotten my name and address from google. But then again, if she had, she would have known I don’ t go so far as to pick up a broom and I’m a self-proclaimed atheist. I’m sure that’s all on my facebook or myspace profile somewhere.
“Lady,” I told her, “I’m not buying.”
“Oh, you don’t have to,” she said sweetly. “I’m giving it away.”
I’ll admit I was intrigued, even if she was selling the gospel or a Dyson. I had hoped she wasn’t from Avon, because I’m not really a meterosexual kind of guy. Turns out, she really wasn’t selling anything at all. I invited her in, wondering what was in her briefcase. Actually, she kinda invited herself in and told me there was no need to get dressed when I politely offered to go put some pants on. Now this was getting interesting. She was hot. Total opposite look than Lisa, who had bleached blond hair, brown eyes and only decided to dress sexily on occasions I chose not to celebrate. And you gotta give the woman credit, whatever she was selling or “giving away,” must really be important for her to go to such extreme measures. I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to write it off on my enormous tax bill, but hey, charity is charity.
“So….” I asked her, raising my brow to appear as sexy as possible while pushing out my muscles for effect, “Where should we do this, upstairs or downstairs?”
“Oh honey,” she said. “Right here is just fine. I’m not shy. You could even leave the windows open.”
Wow. This was hot. I would have definitely left the windows open if we were in some place like Vegas where, “what happens in Vegas…” well you know where this is going. But I washere in Brooklyn, surrounded by my neighbors who knew I was a hotshot lawyer, not to mention my girlfriend lived practically around the corner. So windows open wasn’t exactly looking like a great idea. I nodded my head in approval to indicate I enjoyed her wild streak, but walked over to close the windows and shut the blinds, regardless.
Halfway to window number one, I was halted in my tracks. The woman stood up and slammed her briefcase onto my couch where she had been seated. “I said you could leave the windows open.” Her tone dripped with something acidic, as if I had personally offended her despite the fact I still had no idea who she was or why she was here. But her sweet voice gone sour was enough for me to withdraw my invitation. “Hey, maybe we could do this some other time, ” I meekly suggested since trying to force out a command didn’t seem possible under the circumstances.
I gathered she noticed my apprehension. She set her briefcase aside and her voice dissolved back into that sweet southern accent. “I didn’t mean to scare you sweetie, why don’t you come on over here. But don’t make me have to tell you a third time not to close the windows.” Suddenly I was feeling nervous, a feeling I hadn’t felt since junior high when I had to look over my shoulder every two minutes wondering who was going to mess with me next. It hardened me I guess. When I became successful I didn’t really care about anyone. I had made it big. Almost overnight I had the looks, and the wealth. That’s all a guy needs really. Maybe it didn’t matter so much if the windows were open. It would be just another victory, and there were plenty more Lisa’s where she came from. Besides, I hadn’t done something this exciting since college. My nervousness had now taken the form of this gripping sexual excitement.
I walked over to the woman and sat beside her. She smiled and asked me if I cared to know her name. I didn’t, but at least I had manners. “Yes, of course. I’m sorry,” I lied. “What is your name, beautiful?”
Maybe it was me, but it seemed she was holding back a scowl when she responded. “Dana,” she said. “Dana Kane.”
“Oh,” I mused. “Like, candyCANE?”
She evidently did not find this amusing. “No, sugar, not like candycane,” she replied. “Cane, like the kind you use to blister someone’s bottom. But with a K.”
I disregarded this completely to avoid the strange sensation of fear that gripped me as she spoke. “Well,” I instructed, “Let’s just get down to business here.”
“Absolutely,” she replied, sounding as eager as I felt. “Why don’t you take that towel off for me and let me see all your beautiful assets.” This was something I could definitely do. I knew my body was in pretty good shape, even though I was a year older and might have gained a half of pound the past six months from a slowing metabolism. But unless you knew me very intimately, you really couldn’t tell. Also, I was blessed with an appendage I could brag about it.
I dropped the towel, expecting to show Ms. Kane, with a K, my manliness in its most aroused form. Much to my surprise, she was completely uninterested with my front and very curtly told me to turn around. I had a great ass, too, which she commented on. I didn’t mind too much. I’m mostly a “whatever floats your boat” kinda guy.
Asses definitely kept this woman’s ships sailing. “Oh, this is lovely,” she told me while carefully examining the shape of my buttocks and gently running her sharp nails across my flesh, making it oh so deliciously tender. It was difficult for me to contain my urges and I turned around and asked her if she would take something off for me. I took off my entire towel, and so it was only fair. Boy was I excited when she removed her white blouse.
“So sweetheart, are you gonna give me a better view of thos-“
She interrupted me with a sharp declaration and disappointing answer. “No, honey. I’m just taking my blouse off because I get a better swing that way.”
I had no idea what she meant, but something about the way she said it suddenly deflated my ego, among other things.
“You stay put,” she told me as she picked up her briefcase.
“Oh crap,” I thought. “She’s gonna take out the paperwork NOW?” Again, she managed to surprise me as she opened her case to reveal some strange looking items. Some of them I recognized, like a slipper and wooden hairbrush. The others were small paddles made of various materials, things I had never really seen before and certainly never experimented with. I wasn’t sure I wanted to try now, but she really was difficult to resist.
I sucked in a deep breath and tried to conceal my hesitation. Maybe I was too conventional. It was probably a little spice that was missing in my lust-life with Lisa. “So, Dana, I guess you like it kinky?”
“Why don’t you just come on over my lap and find out?” she instructed.
Over her lap? That seemed juvenile. But we had gone this far. Awkwardly, I positioned my body so that my ass was directly in her field of vision, not realizing I was presenting myself as a target. Before I really understood what was happening, she gripped me in some kind of leg vice so that I couldn’t kick or struggle out of her grasp. “In answer to your question, Anthony, I don’t like it kinky. I like it red and raw. Black and blue. Welted and occasionally bloody.” She emphasized this with a series of smacks to my bottom with a hand that felt to be made of more than just flesh and bones. I had no chance to protest as the slaps reigned down upon my backside, lighting it up with tiny fires just beneath the surface of my rapidly glowing skin and rendering me helpless and without the ability to defend myself.
I had been spanked once as a child. One single, solid smack to the seat of my trousers when I was about three. My mother had been so horrified by my sad expression that she never bothered to do it again, and I rubbed my slightly stingy little booty all the way to the toy store, bakery and my favorite burger joint immediately after.
When the pain started to intensify to the point where it was becoming unendurable, I found myself blurting out, “Look, Dana, this is really not my idea of foreplay. Why don’t we go upstairs and mess around, I’ve got an amazing king-size bed.” In hindsight I should have known better. My suggestion was met with a parade of hand-spanks that had me grunting and screaming in silence.
“That’s Ms. Kane to you from now on,” Dana sternly informed me as I stared dumbfounded at my beige carpet as it was all I could see from this position, that and Ms. Kane’s extraordinary legs and the black heels. She had taken pause but the burning hadn’t. My ass felt like someone had heated up a frying pan and placed it there for fun. I didn’t understand what this woman was doing, but this strict female authoritarian role-play was not my style. If I never knew it before, I knew it now. I was not one of those who relished pain or used it as a means to arousal. Where my member might have been a little perky from the first smack or two, it was now dejectedly limp.
Dana placed her spanking hand on my lower back; it must have been as hot as my ass because it felt like a medicated heat wrap. “Why do you think I’m here Mr. Rabino?” she questioned, as seriously as if she actually expected I should know the answer, which clearly I did not.
“Is it to sell a bible or a vacuum cleaner?” I asked, almost innocently, because she most certainly wasn’t here for a fling.
I didn’t expect that to earn such a stinger, but it did. She cracked me right in the middle of my already sore ass, eliciting a genuine cry of pain. “No, Mr. Rabino. People don’t come to your door to SELL bibles, and it’s been a long time since they’ve gone door to door selling vacuums. I definitely do not do either. I am a business woman however, and today I’m handing out free samples. And I can tell you that this is not a random encounter, and that the only part of me you will be touching is my lap as you lay across it. Is that understood?”
“Uh, not really,” instinct compelled me to reply. I didn’t have time to rethink this as the words had already flown out of my mouth, and no sooner had they done so that my backside was being furiously assaulted by a bionic hand. The muscles in my legs ached to twitch, but they were immobilized and contained in this leg-lock which I had never before experienced. My mind told me that I could overpower this woman, but my legs refused to have anything to do with it. “Oh my God, Dan- Ms. Kane, please stop. I don’t know why you’re doing this but please stop.” The distressful pleas were genuine. I had never felt such an unrelenting pain in all my life.
I thought it was over when she stopped for another second. But she only stopped to reach for the hairbrush, followed by the slipper. As the blows cascaded upon my fired up buttocks, I was filled with a sense of dread. Who was this woman? Why was she doing this? And, Oh my God, the windows are open, anyone coming past the house can hear her hitting me! The horror of that last thought was enough to halt my brain from registering the pain for a moment.
But the moment did not last. Ms. Kane continued to batter my glowing cheeks with every weapon she had in that briefcase. Manly pride reared up and insisted I not cry, but it also rebelled against my desire to attempt to escape. I was able to voice my concern about the window when I noticed that the smacks and corresponding yelps carried a serious echo. “Please, Ms. Kane.The windows. Everyone can hear you, us, this.”
“Oh yes, I know,” she told me in a very strict matter-of-fact tone. “That’s the point. I want your cries to make their way all the way over to Lisa’s house where she is on her couch sobbing, recovering from how miserably you treated her on your birthday.”
“You know Lisa?” I gasped, in between rapid strokes with the sole of her slipper.
“I know Lisa” she said, and then came the soft-spoken, swift but very stern lecture that occurred with just a mild raising of the voice to emphasis certain flaws in my personality. Selfish.SMACK. Cruel. SMACK. Egotistical. SMACK. Poor excuse for a boyfriend. SMACK. Ungrateful. SMACK. After these choice words and the application of some sort of paddle, my free hand defied my better judgment and extended itself in a furious panic to try to interfere with Dana’s punishing implement. This was an unwise move and that free hand was soon locked behind me with her non-spanking hand. This gave Ms. Kane the opportunity to strike my thighs since I was in no position to resist. Thankfully she had put the paddle to rest and used her hand to deliver some very serious whacks to my tender flesh. This was more painful than I could have imagined and the worst was certainly not over.
My mind was still reeling with the knowledge that Ms. Kane had somehow found her way here because of Lisa, although I still didn’t understand the connection between the two. It didn’t matter now. All that mattered was atoning for the horrible way that I had treated Lisa, which had not at all mattered until the words were being beaten into me while I lay face down over a stranger’s lap, unable to move a muscle to protect my body or my psyche. I was now a little shaky, and pleading loudly despite the open windows. My cries for mercy didn’t absolve me, instead they earned me a signature spanking with a portable cane small enough to fit in Dana’s cleverly disguised case for all-things-spanking.
It didn’t take much before I betrayed myself and the floodgates opened. I had entered into some sort of private confessional with this woman, spewing out random fears and incidents of pain that existed in my past that led me to behave so improperly as an adult. While Ms. Kane assured me, between my sobs and strokes of the cane, that she understood and appreciated my honesty, she also told me this was not an excuse to treat the people that cared about me with such great disrespect.
She was here, she said, to teach me that excuses never serve anyone in the end. So what that I hated birthdays? I was lucky to have someone who truly loved me to share one with, who brought me an ice-cream pie wearing a brand new sweater. I had parents who still wanted to keep the magic alive for me, who taught me that you are only as young as you feel. I had friends who cared enough to take me out to dinner, on their tab. And I had sister who wanted to show me not to take life so seriously, to find the humor in the occasion. I was looking at everything backwards the whole time but was unable to see it until having my bottom blistered by this beautiful, fascinating woman who could wear your backside out long before she wore out her hand spanking it.
I remained over her lap quite a while, long after the spanking was over, crying like any small child would after having been soundly punished for being incorrigible. Ms. Kane consoled me with her words, gave me instructions to call Lisa once I had composed myself and reminded me that any day can be a “special” day, and maybe birthdays weren’t so bad in hindsight.Although I’m sure I had a few extra gray hairs after having endured the hiding of my life from a woman I would later learn prides herself on being a real-life disciplinarian, a martinet of justice who travels the country in search of wayward boys to reign them back into obedience with the good ol’ fashioned rod of correction. Come to think of it, maybe she was selling the bible after all.

Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
Posted on

Dana Kane, by RedRump


Readers,

Please indulge me in a bit of crowing:

I received this beautiful piece of custom artwork from RedRump, and am just beyond complimented that he’s taken the time to create something in my likeness.

I’ll be enlarging and framing this wonderful stroking of my ego, and placing it in my playroom.

– Dana

(Thanks again, RR. I am continually amazed at your creativity.)

PS. For those of you not yet familiar with RedRump, visit his blogsite HERE. 
Visit my premium video, DVD, and products website at DanaKaneSpanks.com.
Posted on

My Birthday Spanking Story Contest Winner



Readers,


This was a particularly enjoyable contest, as the entries are all so varied and unique. I am certain that you will enjoy them as much as I have. 


I must issue my usual disclaimer that choosing one winner for these little contests is extremely difficult. There were nearly two dozen individual submissions to the ‘My Birthday Spanking’ story contest, and each author made a genuine effort at excellence. (Entrants: I am, as always, pleased and thoroughly humbled at your willingness to share your talents with me and the readers of my blog. Without your contributions, it would be a much less interesting place.)


And the winner is:


‘A Shared Experience’

*****




My Birthday Spanking
or
A Shared Experience

Birthdays at work were best avoided, Tim always thought.  He couldn’t decide whether he enjoyed the vapid birthday card messages less than the soul-destroying lunchtime cupcakes, but he would have been much happier with neither. In fact, this was the first time in three years that he hadn’t taken a personal day.  But Zoe had an important paper due; she didn’t want him mooching around the house and spilling coffee grounds in the kitchen drawers.

It wasn’t all bad. Birthdays meant casual dress, so Tim was in jeans and a t-shirt, and not sweating in a suit like everyone else. And there had been the text message from Zoe at about 2 pm: “Hope the birthday police aren’t making you wear a silly hat. Just think about what you’ve got coming to you when you get home… xZx”

Always pretty adventurous in the bedroom, the couple had played with spanking since the beginning of their relationship.  But it was only about a year ago that Tim had admitted that his interest wasn’t quite as casual as his early nonchalant suggestions might have implied.  It had led to a tense few weeks. Zoe couldn’t quite shake the notion that Tim had been dishonest about how consuming his interest in spanking was. And Tim’s suggestion that they might be able to incorporate discipline into their daily or weekly routine felt to her like a selfish demand. (His subsequent suggestion that Zoe might want to spank him for this selfishness had proven to be mistimed and misguided.)

Some horse-trading had followed – spankings for massages, spankings for tidying, spankings for just-about-anything-Tim-could-think-of.  But misfiring expectations, promised spankings forgotten, and a lack of common ground on this one issue had put a real strain on their relationship. Tim couldn’t fault Zoe’s openness, willingness to experiment, lack of judgement, or general wonderfulness. Just being able to talk about spanking openly was a huge relief, and a huge excitement. But some people just didn’t have the same wiring as others, he realized, and for Zoe spanking him was always going to be something she could enjoy because he did. It was a generous motivation of course. But no matter how many times and how many ways Tim tried to explain that he wanted real discipline and real accountability, to Zoe it was still a game – a fantasy to be enjoyed and role-played.

And so they’d settled on a sort-of unspoken compromise. Spanking was a regular and enjoyable part of their lives; and although it occasionally came with the hint of admonishment for real-life transgressions, it was usually requested by Tim, or offered as a reward for a completed tax return, an empty dishwasher, or a particularly attentive evening.

Or for a birthday.

(Remember to click ‘Read More’ below to see the full story.)


It had been Zoe’s suggestion that Tim should get a birthday spanking when he got home from work. She’d reminded him of it as he left in the morning, and sent the text message later in the day.  Tim loved it on the occasions that she did take control and initiate, and he was a bundle of nervous excitement all the way home on the subway. Would she be waiting, hairbrush in hand, when he came through the door? He hoped so. More often, a promised spanking would happen later, before bed, or even be forgotten. It wasn’t that Zoe was thoughtless – far from it – but simply that spanking would never be at the forefront of her mind in the way it always was for Tim.

Tim climbed the stairs to their second floor apartment and unlocked the door. Suddenly he heard a burst of laughter from inside the apartment.  He stepped in, and his heart sank. Zoe was sitting on the sofa, with some of her books open in front of her, and a cup of coffee. Sitting opposite her was another woman, someone Tim didn’t know.  They’d been chatting and laughing, and looked up when Tim came through the door.

It wasn’t that unusual for Zoe to have study partners over during the day, especially when she was working on an assignment. She was two years into her PhD now, and worked with a diverse group of people, not all of whom Tim had met. But this wasn’t exactly how Tim had hoped this evening would go. 

“Hi birthday boy,” smiled Zoe, standing up and kissing him briefly, “this is my friend Dana.” She gestured to the other woman, who remained sitting but extended her right hand. Tim reached forward and shook it. She was a few years older than Zoe, but she had the same high cheekbones, and piercing blue eyes. She also had a remarkably firm handshake, Tim noticed in passing.

“Hi Dana, nice to meet you,” he said, without really hiding his disappointment. As usual, he had let his expectations run riot, but it was his birthday after all. Didn’t he have a right to expect Zoe to prioritise his needs today? Was it too much to ask for spanking to be a feature of the evening and not just an afterthought? He could tell that this was going to make him grumpy for the rest of the night.  By the time this Dana finally left and Zoe finished her paper, it would be a few cursory whacks rather than a proper session. Boo.

As these thoughts crossed Tim’s mind, he noticed Zoe and Dana exchange a smile, and he saw Dana give a little nod. He suddenly thought they might almost burst out laughing again – what was so funny? He shrugged it off, and turned to head to the kitchen – maybe a glass of wine would put him in a slightly better mood.

“Not so fast mister,” Zoe said abruptly.

Tim was surprised at her tone of voice. It was playful, and stern, and she didn’t use it that often. “I’m just going to get a drink,” he replied, with a little dismissive laugh, and carried on towards the kitchen.

Her response was lightning quick: “I said not so fast, mister. Don’t get smart with me.”

“Zoe…?” He was looking at Dana apologetically. He didn’t want to fight, and God he didn’t even know what he’d done wrong or what this fight was about. He knew Zoe was very sensitive to his moods, and didn’t like it when he was grumpy. But it certainly wasn’t a conversation he wanted to have in front of a complete stranger. Strangely, Dana didn’t seem at all embarrassed. She was looking straight back at Tim calmly.

“You will look at me when I’m talking to you Tim,” Zoe interrupted. “And don’t think that I’m going to go easy on you just because we’ve got company. I’m not embarrassed, and Dana isn’t embarrassed.”

Tim was definitely embarrassed. He was about to ask what this was all about, but Zoe carried on, fixing him squarely in the eye.

“Shush, no,” she said sharply. “For the rest of this evening I don’t want you answering back, or talking unless Dana or I ask you a direct question.” 

Zoe glanced at Dana quickly, then carried on.

“I’ve had enough of you flouncing around the apartment like a petulant little boy whenever you don’t get your way. From the second you got into the apartment and saw that we had a guest you’ve been pouting,” she continued. “And all because you came home expecting me to do exactly what you wanted and spank you.”

Tim stood dumbfounded. What on earth was Zoe doing? Did she know that her classmate was still here. He looked helplessly at Zoe, then at her friend.  He expected Dana to be horrified; packing up her things quickly to make an embarrassed exit.  But instead she just picked up her cup of coffee and took a slow sip.

“Zoe said you should look at her when she’s talking to you Tim,” Dana offered with a smile. Her voice was firm, but not angry or loud. It was compelling.  Still completely confused, and utterly embarrassed, Tim turned back to face his wife.

“Thank you Dana,” said Zoe, in a voice which meant business. “Well then, Tim,” she continued, “you are going to get a spanking, and it’s going to be the hardest and most painful spanking you’ve ever received. And it’s not going to be a spanking because it’s your birthday, or because you asked for it. It’s going to be a spanking because I am fed up with you behaving like a spoilt child every time you don’t get your way, and making me feel like I’m not doing a good enough job. Do you understand?”

Tim stared blankly at Zoe.

“Do. You. Understand?” She repeated herself slowly.

There was a silence which felt to Tim felt like an hour. In fact it was probably no more than five seconds before Dana spoke next. “Tim, I think you should answer the question. It sounds like you’re in enough trouble as it is, and you don’t want to make things worse for yourself. Do you understand what’s about to happen, and why you’re being punished?”

Tim couldn’t quite believe that this stranger was talking to him like this.  But she was confident and composed, and seemed in no mood to be argued with. Confused, he looked back at Zoe and nodded.

“Good,” said Zoe, folding her arms across her chest. “Since you understand what you’ve done wrong and why I’m about to spank your bottom very hard, I’m going to give you some time to think about your behaviour.  I want you to kneel in that corner,” she instructed, pointing behind him. “I want your nose touching the wall and your hands on your head.”

Tim paused.

“Right NOW mister.” 

The sharpness in Zoe’s voice made Tim jump. He quickly turned around and knelt in the corner of the living room, linking his hands behind his head. He really didn’t know what was going on, but he did know that when the person you loved told you to do something in that tone of voice, you did it right away without asking any more questions.

“And you’ll stay there until I’m ready to begin,” said Zoe. “I’m afraid that the days of doing things to your schedule are long gone, young man.”

Tim heard Zoe sit back on the sofa. Then the two women started chatting, obviously picking up a conversation they had left off when Tim had got home. They were talking about school – Zoe explaining some of the work she was doing for her PhD, and Dana reminiscing about her own university experiences. In fact, they were acting as though Tim wasn’t there at all.

Tim didn’t pay much attention; his mind was racing.  He’d talked to Zoe about being spanked in front of a witness. But he’d talked about a lot of things, and honestly he thought that she didn’t really pay much attention when he was talking about spanking. He felt suddenly ashamed that he’d underestimated how attentive she had actually been in those discussions. She had come so far to meet his often petulant demands and requests, and done so with kindness, good faith and generosity, as she did with all things. And he’d repaid her by increasing his expectations, and making her feel always like she was letting him down.  Almost on the verge of tears, he wasn’t in any doubt now about why he was being punished in this way, or about how real it was.

Eventually, as the hardwood floor was really making its presence known on Tim’s knees, the conversation stopped, and he heard both women stand.

“Right then,” said Zoe. “How do you think we should get started.”

Tim wasn’t sure how to respond to this, until he realized the question hadn’t been intended for him, but for Dana.

“Well some people suggest something like a hand-spanking as a warm up, but I often find that a short sharp shock is a good way to kick things off, especially when dealing with such serious and real issues,” Dana responded.  Tim heard her reaching into a bag, then heard Zoe’s footsteps walking towards the dining room and back again.

A moment later he heard Zoe’s voice.  “Stand up please Tim, and turn around.” She’d resumed her earlier tone, and would clearly brook no argument.

Tim stood and turned around, keeping his hands on his head.  In the middle of the room facing the sofa was a dining chair, and sitting on top of it was a thick leather strap. Tim had seen leather straps in spanking videos on the internet, and had even toyed with the idea of getting one for Zoe, but he didn’t know how she would feel about it. Seeing this implement now – a good eighteen inches long and three wide, with a wooden handle – he wasn’t at all sure how he felt about it either. In the past Zoe had hand spanked him, and occasionally (on his request) tried a hairbrush. Clearly, this was going to be something quite different.

Zoe picked up the strap. “Tim, I’d like you to stand behind the chair, bend over and place both your hands on the seat.”

Contritely, Tim obeyed, flattening his palms on the wooden seat of the chair. He wasn’t hugely flexible and his back arched – he felt a hand push insistently at the base of his spine, and bent further.

“I’m going to start with ten hard licks with Dana’s strap. We’ll see what’s next after that. I want you to keep your hands flat on the chair at all times,” instructed Zoe, “and I want you to raise your head and look straight forwards. Do you understand?”

Tim nodded, and grunted his assent.

“I think ‘Yes Maam’ would be a more appropriate response Tim.” Tim looked up at Dana, who had spoken from her position on the sofa, sitting right in front of Tim and looking him in the eye.

“Um… yes maam,” Tim stuttered looking back at Dana.

“Good,” said Zoe happily. Half a second later Tim felt his bottom explode and heard a huge crack, as Zoe landed the strap squarely on top of his jeans. It was more painful than he could have imagined – an instant, radiating fire.  He jumped up and spun round, looking questioningly, almost pleadingly at his wife.

She was unmoved. “What part of ‘keep your hands flat on the chair’ don’t you understand,” she asked, “or am I somehow not making my point clearly enough?.” She paused and glanced at Dana, then continued.  “Right, this is your first, last and only warning. If you move out of position once more, then we’ll start again from the beginning.” She paused again, looking up at Dana. Dana gave a barely perceptible nod, and Zoe continued. “And if I have to do that, I will pull your pants down and bare your ass. And don’t you dare think that I won’t do it because we have company. I’ve seen it all before and so has Dana. So you had better just try and exercise a little bit of self-control mister. Is that clear enough for you to understand?”

That was pretty clear, Tim felt. When she’d spanked him before, Zoe usually made him take down his pants. But he didn’t think he could deal with the embarrassment of having his bottom bared in front of this stranger, and he didn’t want to think about what that strap might feel like across his naked butt.  He turned around, bent over and muttered “yes ma’am”. He looked up, and met Dana’s eyes. She was smiling broadly now, and she nodded encouragingly at Zoe.

The next lick cracked across Tim’s jeans with the same ferocity as the first. But he’d been expecting it this time, and managed to meet it with only a sharp intake of breath, and a pleading look at Dana. It was just as painful as the first stroke had been. 

The third stroke came about ten seconds later, and Tim was grateful for that short recovery time; he was pretty confident he could get through the remaining licks without moving out of position. He’d barely had time to think that though, when the next four strokes landed one after the other, in an almost immediate rising crescendo of stinging pain. As each lick seared his bottom, Tim felt a tide of rising panic, as he struggled to keep his palms planted on the seat top, and his eyes focused on Dana’s gently mocking smile. He thought that perhaps he was nearly there, when Zoe planted stroke number seven across the top of his thighs. With only a single layer of denim protecting this part of his anatomy, the pain level notched up once more. Instinctively, Tim reached back to protect his legs. He recognized his mistake instantly, and his hand shot back to the seat, but it was too late.

“Right. You were warned about this. It was a lack of self-discipline that got you into this mess in the first place, and that same lack of self-discipline has just landed you in considerably hotter water,” said Zoe. “Stay exactly where you are.”

A second later, he felt her arms reach around from behind him, and start to unbuckle his belt. As Dana looked on impassively, Zoe quickly unbuttoned his jeans.  She reached her hands into his waistband, grabbing a fistful of waistband and white boxer briefs on either side of his hips, and in a single rough motion pulled his jeans and underwear down to the ground, where they sat, bunched forlornly at his feet.

Tim flushed bright red, as he felt the cool air of the a/c on his butt. He was suddenly massively grateful for the high, solid-backed dining chair, which was currently preserving his modesty from Dana. Well at least that was more motivation to stay in position. His modesty wasn’t preserved from his wife though, who was standing behind him, strap in hand, looking happily at his completely exposed ass.

“Starting again then Tim,” she said. “Ten licks with the strap. And we can keep starting from scratch all night if you like.”

Tim bedded his palms into the dining chair seat, and looked up at Dana. He would happily have had the ground swallow him whole at this point. Bent over a dining chair, with his wife whipping his bare ass, and a perfect stranger staring him in the face: it was not how he’d expected this evening to go. But he was beginning to realize that his expectations were a big part of the reason he was here at all. This was happening, whether he liked it or not.

When Zoe swung the strap and connected with his bare bottom, he realized that he was absolutely not going to like it. Not at all. That stroke of the strap across his naked flesh was the single most painful thing he could remember experiencing.  He had absolutely no control over his right hand as it swung around behind him to protect his burning butt.

Zoe stopped, sighed, and looked up at Dana. “What do you think?” she said. “Do I just start again? He’s only had one.”

“I’m sorry,” Tim stuttered. He was grateful at least that he had managed to stay bent over the chair, hiding his nakedness from this woman he’d met less than half-an-hour earlier.

“Clearly not sorry enough,” said Dana. She looked at Zoe, then back at Tim. “You are obviously lacking in self-control nearly as much as you are lacking in respect.” She looked back up at Zoe. “Do you remember that we talked about hands?”

“Oh yes,” replied Zoe, sounding almost relieved. Tim saw her walk around and sit next to Dana on the sofa. She was still holding the formidable strap, and her cheeks were reddened from the exertion of his punishment so far. She looked quite beautiful, Tim thought. “OK Tim, stand up please,” she said firmly.

Tim froze. He felt vulnerable, exposed, nearly naked, and at the moment the chair was the closest thing he had to safety. He gripped the lip of the seat firmly.

“Oh now you can hold onto the seat of the chair can you Tim?”  Then Zoe’s tone turned from gentle mockery to strict instruction: “STAND UP NOW.”

Tim gulped down some air. He stood gingerly, covering himself with his hands.

“Kneel in front of the chair, facing me, with your hands on your head,” Zoe ordered.

Tim looked helplessly from his wife to Dana, then back to his wife. Both women were meeting his gaze squarely. Tim’s head was a mess of conflicting emotions. Yes he had fantasized about being in this situation, but this wasn’t anything like a fantasy. In the past he had always been in control of his own punishments, telling Zoe what to do and say. Being bossy and selfish, he realized. He felt like a fraud. Always claiming to want Zoe to be in control, but really trying to take control himself. Well he wasn’t in control now, and it wasn’t fun at all. But he did deserve it, he knew. He could see how much of a bully he’d been in those situations, and he felt ashamed. The shame of this evening should be the least of his worries.

Meekly he shuffled forwards, his jeans and underwear dragging at his ankles.  He knelt in front of the two women, and placed both his hands on top of his head. Raising his hands hitched his t-shirt up so that the hem was level with his belly button – there was nowhere to hide.  He couldn’t bring himself to look at Dana, but he did meet Zoe’s gaze. With reddening eyes he said “I’m sorry,” again.

Zoe ignored this apology, and looked down at the strap in her hand. “Hold out your right hand, Tim, with your palm facing upwards.”

Tim was beyond objecting by this point. He loved Zoe utterly, and could never question her right to do this. He also trusted her implicitly, and knew that whatever punishment she chose to administer would be fair and loving. For all his physical discomfort, he felt emotionally safe. He extended his right hand, keeping his left on his head, and flattened his palm.

Zoe flipped the strap over her shoulder, she brought it down smartly across Tim’s palm. It cracked like a gunshot. Tim made a fist as the pain fired up his arm. But he kept his hand forward, and after a second unclenched his fist. Zoe had maintained eye-contact throughout the stroke, and Tim felt compelled to submit to his punishment completely. Without looking away, Zoe delivered two more sharp strokes to Tim’s right palm.

“Other hand please Tim,” Zoe said. Tim obeyed, and received three terrifying and painful strokes on the palm of his left hand. He didn’t need to see his glowing red palm to know how effective they had been. As Zoe delivered the strokes, Tim thought he detected a hint of remorse her eyes. She couldn’t be enjoying this really, he thought. He suddenly had an image, of two people engaged in a ritual – neither getting any real pleasure from it, but both aware of its utter necessity. 

“OK, let’s see if we can get through those first ten licks,” said Zoe. “Back on your feet and over the back of the chair. And you can step out of those jeans and undies – you’re not going to be needing them for the rest of this evening. Shoes and socks off too, please.”

Tim obeyed. He stood, shuffling off his sneakers and stepping out of his bunched clothes. 

“You can fold them neatly and put them on the side table,” Zoe said kindly. 

Tim knelt and picked up his jeans. He shook them out and folded them neatly, placing his white jersey underwear on top. He carried them past Dana and placed them on the side table. Remembering his socks, he bent awkwardly to slip them off one at a time, before adding them to the pile.

“And you can bend over facing the other way this time, Tim,” she added. “I still want your hands flat on the seat, but I think Dana deserves to have a better view of your naughty butt.”

Tim didn’t even try to cover his modesty as he walked back to the chair, turned to face away from the two women, and bent over. A moment later he heard movement behind him. The anticipation was agonizing; it was almost worse than the actual punishment. 

Almost. The first of the ten strokes landed across his butt with a heavy, thudding crack. Then the second, and the third. After each stroke, the strap followed through, sliding across his red tender ass – it felt as though his skin was being stripped off a layer at a time. At the sixth stroke, he let out a gasping sob. He couldn’t see behind him, but if this provoked any sympathy in Zoe, she didn’t let it affect her right arm.  The last four strokes fell as hard as the first six, striping his butt and the top of his thighs a bright, livid scarlet. And by the time the tenth stroke fell, he was crying freely.

He could hear Zoe behind him, her breathing heavy from her effort. His mind was clearer now, his confusion and defiance scoured clean by the fire in his bottom and legs. He stayed still, not wanting to risk a repeat performance by moving before he was told to.

There was a long pause. “What was next?” he heard Zoe ask quietly.

“Well that took a bit longer than expected didn’t it.” That was Dana’s cool voice. “But I think he’s getting the idea now,” she continued. “I suggest we skip straight to the brush.”

Tim was actually relieved to hear this. He’d known there would probably be more to come, but he was at least on familiar territory with the hairbrush. Zoe had used her square, flat-backed plastic hairbrush to spank him in the past, and while it hurt more than her hand it wasn’t really all that painful. Certainly nothing like the agony of the strap she had just wielded.

“In the same position?”

“I think you can put him over your knee and really teach him a lesson actually, don’t you,” Dana responded.

“Stand up please Tim,” Zoe said.

Tim was happy to be back into a slightly more familiar routine. He stood and turned around, ready to lay across his wife’s lap. As soon as he did, his heart sank into his bare feet. Dana’s bag was open, and she had handed Zoe the ‘brush’. This was not his wife’s small plastic-backed hairbrush. In her hands, Zoe now held a wooden bathbrush. It was probably a foot and a half long, and made of heavy-looking wood almost an inch thick. It had a long tapered handle which opened out to an oval head about five inches long and three wide. One side of the head was covered with stiff bristles, betraying the brush’s intended purpose. It was the other side Tim was more worried about – a pancake-flat wooden surface, once polished but now worn, presumably through firm application to naughty bottoms. Like his.

Zoe weighed the brush in her hand, swatting it a few times against her left palm. From the way it moved, Tim could tell it was heavy. He couldn’t imagine what it might feel like thudding into his already sore, and naked ass, but he suspected he was about to find out.

Zoe walked towards him. She clicked her fingers and pointed to her left. Tim stepped to one side, and Zoe turned and sat in the dining chair, straightening her skirt. She looked up to her right, fixing Tim in the eye and clicked her fingers again, this time pointing at her lap. Tim knew what this meant, but hesitated.

“Get over my knee young man,” said Zoe sternly, and without giving him time to comply, she grabbed his hand and pulled him towards and across her. Tim tripped on Zoe’s thigh, and he fell forwards quickly, putting both hands out to stop himself on the floor. He landed in what he imagined would be the ideal position for Zoe to administer the awful-looking wooden bathbrush: hands and feet on the floor, and bottom over her lap, pointing skyward.

He felt Zoe’s left hand settle into the small of his back. His t-shirt was bunched up around his armpits, leaving him completely naked from the chest down. She gently rubbed his lower back as she spoke: “Tim I’m sorry that it’s come to this. I know it’s your birthday, and that you were expecting something quite different tonight. But I suppose this is a different sort of birthday present – one that I hope will put an end to some of the uncomfortable tensions and expectations that have been putting a strain on things. Do you agree that after tonight we can move forward in a positive way, and that perhaps you’ll have a different understanding of what getting a spanking means?”

“Yes maam,” Tim replied.

“Good,” said Zoe. “Good boy.” Then without hesitating she raised the bathbrush, and with the full weight of her arm she swatted Tim’s right butt cheek. The head of the brush splatted into the fleshiest part of Tim’s buttock with a heavy thud. Tim cried out in pain. It was like being hit in the ass by a car. The weight of the brush seemed to drive deep into flesh and muscle, and with his cheeks still tender from the strap, the pain was unbearable. Zoe raised the brush again, this time targeting the side of Tim’s ass nearest to her, and again driving home the blow with full force.  This was only two swats, and already Tim was wondering how he would be able to take it, when he heard Dana’s voice.

“Zoe if you use your full weight every time your arm will get tired really quickly,” she instructed. “We want you to be able to keep this up for a good ten minutes. So I want you to try to use the weight of the brush itself.  Hold it closer to the end – that’s it – and then you can flick.  Don’t worry, it will sting just as much.”

“Right, I see,” said Zoe, and tried a couple of swats tentatively – one on each cheek.

“That’s it,” said Dana encouragingly. “Now try to build up a rhythm.”

Zoe did exactly that, flicking the brush in quick, hard swats on each of Tim’s butt cheeks in turn. The first few were almost bearable, but as the unrelenting staccato of Zoe’s strokes continued, the pain in Tim’s butt grew and grew to intolerable levels. It was a pain that crowded Tim’s head, shutting out all other thoughts. He just wanted it to stop. Zoe peppered Tim’s entire bottom and upper thighs with sharp swats. At one point, after she had delivered half a dozen stinging strokes in a row to the same point on the crease of Tim’s right butt cheek, he swung his right hand back to try and stop her. Without breaking her rhythm, Zoe effortlessly caught it in her left, and pinned it firmly in the small of his back. He was now pressed harder into her lap. More helpless than before, he could do nothing but cry as the torrent of spanks continued to make him feel as contrite as he ever had.

After what seemed like an age, and uncountably many swats with the brush, Zoe stopped. He could hear her breathing heavily, and could feel the warmth of her hand, which still pinned his in place. His bottom was on fire. He’d never imagined a spanking could be this painful, and coupled with the humiliation of having the whole thing witnessed by a complete stranger, he knew he would do whatever was necessary to make sure that he wouldn’t find himself in this position again any time soon.

“Up please, Tim, and get your naughty red butt straight back in the corner, kneeling on the ground and with your hands back on your head,” Zoe instructed.

Tim awkwardly maneuvered himself off his wife’s lap. He sort of fell in a heap on the floor, his t-shirt bunched and his bottom a dozen different shades of red and purple. As he struggled to his feet he noticed Dana. She hadn’t moved from her position on the couch all evening, and she was still smiling at him. She took another sip from her cup of coffee.

Tim walked quickly to the corner. His eyes were red, and his nose was running slightly from his crying. He no longer cared who saw what; he simply wanted to obey Zoe’s instructions to the letter. He wanted this punishment over sooner rather than later. He kneeled, linked his hands behind his head, and breathed out for what seemed like the first time in an hour.

“Well done Zoe,” he heard Dana say behind him. “That was excellent. You really took everything on board. I think you’re a natural.”

He heard Zoe laugh before replying, “thank you Dana. This has been a bit of a revelation. I never thought that I really wanted to make spankings real, or about real things. I always thought that was just playing into his hands, and that he was just being more of a brat by asking me to. But he really seemed to be getting the message. And he really seemed not to be enjoying himself. I wonder if it will actually make any difference?”

“Oh I think it probably will,” Dana said. “But just in case, I’m going to leave these with you. I’m sure you’ll put them to good use if you have to.”

Tim knew exactly what ‘these’ were. Kneeling in the corner, with his incredibly sore bottom on display and tears of shame still in his eyes he couldn’t imagine behaving in a way that would force Zoe to repeat this evening’s punishment. But he knew that it would happen; that his pouty and childish tendencies were still there. He understood them better now, which was probably the first step to being a better, more generous, more thoughtful husband. But it would be a longer journey than one evening, and when he slipped up along the way he knew he would find himself back over his wife’s knee, or bent over a dining chair, as she lit a fire in his ass once again. He resolved to make that as rare an occurrence as possible.

He heard Dana picking up her bag, and finishing the last of her coffee. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Zoe open the front door. She hugged Dana, and thanked her again, before seeing her out, and closing and locking the door. Tim was suddenly more nervous than he had been at any point in the evening so far. What was going to happen next? As a couple, they had no vocabulary for this moment – a moment where dynamics were beginning to shift, and where games had blurred into reality. No script.

He was tumbling these thoughts in his mind – trying to work out how to deal with the potential awkwardness of the next few moments, when he felt Zoe’s hand touch his arm, more softly she had all evening.

“Turn around Tim,” she said. Her voice was warm, asking more than instructing. 

Tim turned and looked at his wife. He couldn’t think of anything to say, but he knew he didn’t need to. His tensions melted away, and a fresh wave of tears surged in him. He instantly hugged Zoe, burying his head in her shoulder.

She wrapped both her arms around him and held him tightly.

“Happy birthday, sweetheart,” she said, quietly.

*****



Note:  Every contest, I receive a few entries which I am unable (read:unwilling) to publish. This is always due to content which I have specifically outlined in the contest guidelines as being unacceptable. It pains me a bit to know that a few of you spend a lot of time, energy, and imagination writing these stories which I then cannot publish because you haven’t heeded these simple requests relating to content. 
Yes, it is possible for me to edit your stories, and I sometimes do, but in many instances doing so would simply destroy the narrative and make the remaining pieces impossible to follow. (Also, keep in mind that it is impossible to win the ‘prize’ if I cannot publish your work.)
In the future, please do us all a great favor and stick to the rules…I would love to share each and every submission.


– Dana

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