– Dana
F/F Spanking Story: ‘New Year’s Resolutions that Need Breaking’
– Dana
Ms. Dana Kane – Professional Disciplinarian
"Hold still long enough and I'll spank you, too."
‘Anthony’ wrote another excellent story for his entry to the ‘I Broke my New Year’s Resolution’ writing contest. ‘You Count to Us’ is worth a read!
– Dana
I have received several requests for POV-type videos, featuring lecturing, scolding…and no spankee. Just an angry wife/teacher/doctor, etc. giving ‘you’ a stern talking-to, eye-to-eye, for your own good.
‘The POV Lecture Series’ is my answer to those requests. I will be taking on various, traditional ‘fantasy disciplinary roles’ in order to verbally convey just how very displeased I am with your behavior.
These will be solo dialogue videos (no spanking), shot in POV style.
The first installment of ‘The POV Lecture Series’ is:
Readers,
A fun subject which I have the great good fortune to discuss fairly regularly of late is the ‘Second-Day Spanking’. Many of the female tops with whom I communicate (the WW comes to mind, naturally) enjoy the great power (and slight sadism) involved in spanking an already sore bottom. We know that even that even the thought of being spanked on a sore and swollen bottom is terrifying…and that’s the point, isn’t it? – I should interject here that it is a certainty that male tops enjoy spanking a sore bottom just as much as we ladies do.
Many spankos fantasize of near-endless spankings – spankings which go on for hours, or drag on all throughout the day and night – spankings which, frankly, most will never really be able to endure. (That’s why it’s such a great fantasy.)
A single spanking can only last so long, even with the most practiced top and bottom, as exhaustion will certainly eventually set in. Marathon spankings of two to three hours or more are for the most brave and formidable of players.
I much prefer the Second Day Spanking. Rather than trying to wear your hide down to the bone over the course of several hours, I enjoy the idea of allowing you to spend the evening sitting uncomfortably, knowing that morning holds the promise of more. You’ll have plenty of time to think about the swats of the previous night, along with the fear of many, many more to come, as you make your slow walk toward my lap. When I lower your underpants to reveal a still-pink bottom, I cannot contain my glee. I know that this is going to sting, like hellfire, from the very first smack.
If you have an experience or opinion on Second Day Spankings, please take a moment to leave your thoughts in the comment box below.
– Dana
The ‘I Broke my New Year’s Resolution’ story writing contest turned up more than a few boys who’ve been off their diets. Here’s another sneaky snacker taught a lesson, in ‘Dana Kane’s Weight Loss Program’. Enjoy!
– Dana
Gamblers beware! The ‘I Broke my New Year’s Resolution’ story contest will catch you, too, as the author of this fun story finds out…
– Dana
Here are a few of the results from ‘The Other Stuff’ Survey – with 213 responders thus far:
When asked which ‘other’ types of corporal punishment you’re interested in, you responded as follows
(number of respondents, followed by percentage of overall responses):
Flogging | 84 | 42% | |
Single-tail/Whipping | 54 | 27% | |
Face-Slapping | 60 | 30% | |
Bastinado (google it) | 16 | 8% | |
Punching | 10 | 5% | |
Ballbusting | 25 | 13% | |
All of these things sound awful. Please just spank me. | 79 | 40% |
The question regarding ‘other’ types of BDSM play ellicited the following responses:
Foot/Shoe Worship | 61 | 30% | |
CBT | 70 | 35% | |
Rope/restraint Bondage | 82 | 41% | |
Confinement | 21 | 10% | |
Sensory Deprivation | 24 | 12% | |
Wax/Ice play | 41 | 20% | |
Ass play | 123 | 61% | |
Eek! No, thank you to all of the above. | 36 |
18%
|
On voyeurism and exhibitionism, you said:
I enjoy watching others, but do not enjoy performing. | 25 | 12% | |
I enjoy performing, but do not enjoy watching others. | 6 | 3% | |
I love to watch AND participate. | 90 | 42% | |
Play is private for me, always. | 77 | 36% |
The question on fetish items which you enjoy returned these results:
Rubber/latex | 42 | 27% | |
Leather | 87 | 56% | |
Hoods/masks | 31 | 20% | |
Gloves | 53 | 34% | |
Gags | 50 | 32% | |
Thigh-high boots | 72 | 46% | |
Stockings/pantyhose | 101 | 65% |
And finally, when asked about your lifetime number of playmates, you answered:
One | 96 | 45% | |
2-5 | 17 | 8% | |
6-10 | 4 | 2% | |
10-20 | 8 | 4% | |
I get around. | 10 | 5%
I |
Thanks to everyone who has participated thus far…your cumulative replies always manage to interest and surprise me.
If you haven’t yet, please take a minute and include your responses, either through the above link or by clicking the ‘Survey’ page at the top of the blog page.
– Dana
Readers,
I absolutely love this original entry to the ‘I Broke my New Year’s Resolution’ spanking story contest. The subject matter is unique, and the author’s tone is personal and engaging. Please enjoy ‘Snuffing out a Bad Habit’.
– Dana
Snuffing Out a Bad Habit
*A good day’s work, and it’s only 4:30. Jim’s gonna be thrilled. He’ll
owe me one.* I thought to myself while taking a leak. Thump Thump wiggle
wiggle tuck zip flush.
I washed my hands in the sink, looked up into the mirror, straightening my
tie, *Yup, even under flourescent lights, still handso– woops.* The
self-congratulatory thoughts were cut short when I smiled and saw it. There
in my teeth was a flake of Copenhagen. *Dammit! Must’ve been there since
just after lunch- wonder how many people at the conference table noticed?
Don’t kid yourself- all of them.*
***
“Daddy, what’s this?” my five year old asked, holding up an empty can of
dip.
“Uh, it’s uhm one of Daddy’s things. Thank you.” I said, taking it from him.
“Hey, I was gonna use it as an artifact for the lego explorers!”
My son watches too many “educational” cartoons, I guess. But it did look
like it could be a cool artifact. The shiny gold metal lid with raised
writings and symbols… But then I saw my wife Lauren give me a look. I’m
not always the best at interpreting those looks, but this one was clearly
disapproving.
“No, this goes in the Daddy closet with the tools. Sorry bud.”
“Aw, man!”
And just to make sure I understood, my lovely wife gave me a good uhm,
“chewing” out about how she hopes our boys never pick up that disgusting
habit, oh, and by the way when was I going to grow up?!
****
Then there were the yahoo health articles on mouth cancer left up on
the computer,
and the comment about Roger Ebert, and the looks every time someone
mentioned anything about cancer.
Dipping tobacco was a nasty habit. Not as bad as smoking- my clothes and
car didn’t smell bad, nor did it affect my ability to jog, but it was a bad
habit that I wanted / needed to quit. A remnant of both my country
upbringing and my fraternity days that if I’m being honest was a full blown
addiction. I’d tried to quit before, and had a couple of times. I quit for
30 days before the life insurance physical… Then promptly put in a nice
big fat celebratory dip for having done so.
I tried to be discrete, because I knew my wife didn’t like it, and didn’t
want the boys to know. But in the car, in the john, working outside in the
yard, those increasing rare days playing golf… I had a dip in. Plus it
had become increasingly expensive in the last few years.
It was time.
Didn’t tell anyone, didn’t want to make a big deal out of it, plus I’d
tried twice before and when I went back to it, my wife was livid. Not that
I planned on failing to quit, but based on that experience, I wasn’t
planning on telling her about it either. Starting with the new year, I’d
quit. Well, okay, starting Monday the 2nd. (New Years Day was a holiday,
right?)
A lot of gum chewing, but the first day wasn’t that bad. The second day was.
The third day was even worse. So much for not making a big deal of it and
keeping it to myself. My wife knew because I was grumpy and in a foul mood
and didn’t touch the beers in the fridge. (I knew from previous attempts
that alcohol was a quick way to lose this battle.)
“Honey I am sooo proud of you. I know you’re strong enough to make it stick
this time. I’m so happy! No more little flakes of dried dip when I sweep,
no more spit bottles I find out in the garage, no more half empty cans you
try to hide but forget about until I find them. Come here, how about a big
kiss on those clean lips!” Lauren went on and on…
“Enough!” I roared. The last think I wanted to talk about was dipping, I
was trying to block all thought of it from my mind.
But somehow three days led to a week, one week led to another, and though the
craving never left, I was through the worst of it and had made it over a
month.
****
It was early February and I was about to start on our taxes. I have a small
study in our home that’s really more like a large closet. I’ve always done
my own taxes, and doing them online was fairly simple. I keep fairly well
organized and was almost done but was finishing and couldn’t find our kids’
social security numbers, dangit! I opened the bottom drawer of my little
desk and dug around in the files- the paper copy from last year was in here
somewhere…
CLINK, rattle, rattle, rattle…
One of those half empty cans of dip I’d forgotten about fell off a
stack of papers and made its distinctive sound as it histthe bottom of
the drawer. I stared at it.
I picked it up. I opened it up and took a long deep sniff. Mmmm… It
was mostly dried out -who knows how long it had been there-
But it sure smelled good.
Then I closed the lid and slid the can back across the desk. Nope. It took
me about an hour more finishing up and double checking before finally clicking
“submit” and being done with it. (Well, done with it except for having
Lauren “sign” it too with her email.)
I felt pretty good about myself, and had plans for the refund. Walking
around the house in my socks, I checked and everyone was soundly asleep.
Our littlest had somehow made his way into our bed and was snuggled up with
my wife. Cute.
Down to the kitchen I went to grab a couple of beers and some chips before
heading back up to my study. Long week, taxes done, temptation resisted…
I was going to enjoy myself looking at spanking videos on the computer. Oh
yeah, I may have forgotten to mention that. My wife and I are both into
spanking. Just foreplay, basically, but pretty intense and kinky foreplay I
suppose. Occasionally we’d incorporate real transgressions to spice it up,
but we didn’t live a domestic discipline lifestyle, by any means- most
spankings involved roleplay, which led to great sex. (A lot less frequent
with little ones running around, though.)
So I undid my pants, twisted the bottle cap off, and settled in for some
happy personal time.
One beer (and one mess cleaned off my stomach) later, I looked at the can
on the back of the desk where I’d pushed it away earlier. It wasn’t going
anywhere, just waiting for me. Maybe I should just finish it off. Not like
I stopped at a convenience store to get a can. It just basically (almost
literally) fell into my lap. It was mostly dry, so I wouldn’t enjoy it
much. But I should finish it off before I had it tempt me everytime I came
up here to get work done, right?
****
“Isn’t it a little early for spring cleaning, honey?”
“I don’t care. We haven’t had a free weekend in over a month, and this
house is FINALLY going to get really clean, not just staightened up. Have
you SEEN behind the boys’ toilet?”
No getting in Lauren’s way when she’s determined to clean. She’d go
through a box of swiffers and half a bottle of windex today, I was sure.
I came back from running errands and the house smelled like lemons and
disinfectant.
“Honey I have a lot more to do, but we have that birthday party for the
Smith’s son at 2:00. Would you mind taking the kids? ‘No gifts’ so I just
got him a cookie from cookie bouquet. It’s already wrapped.”
“No problem. How much more cleaning can you do, though? House looks and
smells great already.”
“I haven’t even touched organizing the play room or your study.”
*Crap, I got rid of the can last night, didn’t I?!* I thought to myself.
On the outside, I said,
“You’ve done enough sweetie, there’s no point going upstairs. You know how
I organize our files, and the boys playroom will stay organized and clean
for about 5 minutes- max.”
“I’m on a roll and not stopping, hon. But if you’re worried about the
house being too clean… We can make a big mess in our bedroom tonight
-MeeMaw wants the kids to spend the night!” she said, snuggling up for a
kiss.
“Mmm, and its been awhile since this got any attention,” I said, squeezing
her bottom.
“Down boy! You’re right, but first you have to go to a Batman party.” She
said with a smirk and gave me a little squeeze of her own.
I high-tailed it up to the study and doubled checked that I’d thrown the
can away. Whew!
Then off to the Batman party. I felt sorry for the guy dressed up as
Batman. Somehow the dark knight making balloon animals just seemed a little
sad. But the kids had fun, and did the usual small talk with all the other
dads, all of whom were equally miserable. Kids were excited to spend the
night with MeeMaw, and I was excited they’d be spending the night with
MeeMaw too!
On the way home I went over in my head possibilities for tonight. Go out?
Cook at home? Weird… Lauren always answers the phone, but she
hadn’t when I called on the way to MeeMaw’s and wasn’t answering now
either. Irritating.
***
“Honey? What’s going on? Why aren’t you answering your phone? You know
that’s one of my pet pee-“
“I’m in here.” She called out from our bedroom.
“Oh, you were in the shower -got it- hey wait, that mustve been an awfully
long shower! I called you almost an hour ago!” I yelled to the other end of
the house.
“I know. I didn’t answer because I was angry.” She hollered back.
*Dammit-What now?! Did she not appreciate that I’d just suffered through
not just a preschool birthday party but her mom’s 20 minute conversation
about Aunt Sarah too?!* I made my way to our bedroom and stopped short
when I saw her. Nude, she still took my breath away. Her gorgeous hourglass
figure shimmered. The setting sun’s light coming in through the window
caught the drops of water covering her body. My eyes were drawn
involuntarily to her dark triangle and then her breasts wobbling as she
towelled off her hair. What was I irritated about again?
But when I looked up, her smile was missing.
“I didn’t answer your calls because I was angry. I’m not angry anymore but
we need to talk.” She said calmly.
*Uh-oh.*
“Care to explain this?”
She handed me a swiffer with some dust bunnies and lots of little brown
specks stuck to it.
*Uh-oh.*
“Those look like dip flakes sweetie but they’re pretty old and dry. When
was the last time you cleaned the study?” Notice how I didn’t deny it but
tried to parry the implied accusation?
“Nice try. I cleaned it in January… AFTER you quote quit.” She said,
making air-quotes with her fingers as she went back into the bathroom. .
She returned and had put on her robe and was carrying her hairbrush.
*Uh-oh. *
She sat down on our bed and patted it just beside her, indicating she
wanted me to take a seat as well.
“I’m not going to ask you to explain yourself. You’re just going to dig a
bigger hole for you to have to crawl out of. But don’t interrupt me. I’ve
been practicing what I want to say in my head. While I was in the study,
and after I’d calmed down a bit I looked up quitting nicotine on the
computer. Turns out the average quitter is successful on their sixth
attempt to quit. This is your third time, but you’re above average,
right? Ah- don’t interrupt.
Also read that an occasional slip up is fairly common and doesn’t
necessarily mean that the effort to quit has been in vain. Look I want to
do everything I possibly can to encourage you. This is a big deal. I
want you sitting on the rocking chair on the porch with me when we’re
old and wrinkly, and you won’t make it to old and wrinkly unless you
quit. So I’m going to give you a spanking, and it’s gonna be a good
one.”
“Wait, I-“
“Ah- what did I say about interrupting? My mind’s made up but I
really want you to hear me out. This is not a punishment spanking,
but an encouraging one. We don’t do punishment spankings- well, except
for that time I got too drunk at that wedding- but I want to help you,
help us, win this battle. I want for the spanking to be bad enough
that the next time your tempted to backslide, your backside will
scream ‘No!’ So… Now you get to talk. Do you have anything to add?”
“Not really. Sorry sweetie. Yup, I was guilty of backsliding, as you
called it. And I don’t want to again. ” I thought about arguing or
getting out of it, and I probably could have, but truthfully I really
wanted to quit, and probably deserved this as punishment but if she
wanted to call it encouragement, so be it.
“Alright then, honey, come on.” I stood in front of her and let her
undo my belt and pants, pulling them down. As she pulled my underwear
down too, I had my natural reaction to an upcoming spanking and her
face positioned just in front of my crotch. I couldn’t resist; “But
why not encourge me with a carrot instead of a stick?”
“Oh honey,” she said grabbing me, “there’ll be plenty of time to have
some fun with your carrot later. First though, it’s over my knees you
go.”
Her bathrobe parted, and her thighs were still a bit damp as she
adjusted me a little.
SMACK SMACK SMACK!
She started awfully strong. “Hey, what happened to a warm up?!”
“This [SMACK] is [SMACK] a warmup. I’m not using the hairbrush yet.”
On and on the “warmup” continued. Rapidly it became hot and
uncomfortable, then outright started to really hurt. Before too long,
she picked up the hairbrush and continued at the same pace. I was
tensing and groaning with each searing spank. She didn’t lecture, but
told me in a soothing voice how much she loved me and how she knew I
could do it but just SPLAT wanted SMACK to give me SMACK WHACK all the
CRACK encouragement WHAP she could.
Usually our spankings were given with the spankee naked, and it was
kind of different to have my boots still on and my jeans around my
ankles. It meant I couldn’t really kick, just took it and took it and
took the pain some more. (With lots of growling and gripping the
bedspread so tight my knuckles were white thrown into the mix too.)
Finally she relented, and patting my butt told me to get up and take
off my clothes. Carrot time? I wondered.
“Up on the bed. On your knees, I want your face down on the pillow.”
Guess not. She fondled my bottom, poked a couple of bad spots, then
using her nails and then a finger moistened in her mouth fondled and
teased my whole throbbing bottom, even my bottom hole.
I just groaned feeling the mixture of pleasure, pain, and relief that
she wasn’t inflicting even more pain.
“You know, I think just a little more encouragement is needed where I
missed some spots here, here, and right in here too,” She said, ever
so sweetly, “stay put, honey, I’ll be right back!”
And she was, carrying the long thin wooden kitchen spoon.
“I’m getting a little warm with all this encouragement,” she said,
shucking her bathrobe, and hopping on the bed in front of me. She
spread her knees and crawled toward me, tantalizing me but then kept
going past my head until she was straddling my back on her knees.
“Now, where were we? Oh yeah, we were encouraging all of your bottom
not to be tempted to dip again. Even these parts of your bottom
[snap, snap] and these parts [snap, snap!] And even this little cute
part right [snap!] here!”
Each little strike was intense and stung as she got the insides of my
cheeks and thighs. In my current position I couldn’t even really tense
up and avoid them easily. Over and over again the little snaps of the
spoon stung my tender parts until I was on the verge of tears. Just
when I truly. Could not take any more, she sat down on my back.
“Okay honey, do you think your bottom will be screaming ‘NO!’ the next
time your tempted?”
“Yes” was all I could groan in response.
“Let’s make double sure!” And then she proceeded to spank me all over
with rapid-fire blows of the spoon that did send me over the edge to
tears.
Next thing I realized, she had scooted up in front of me again, her
legs still spread.
“Honey, I love you, and I had to do that for you, and for us.”
She leaned over and wiped my tears and kissed my face and rubbed her
hand in my hair.
“It’s almost time to take care of your carrot, but first, before we
finish this, let’s give those healthy lips some exercize.” She said
with a smile, pulling my face toward her.
My lips (and my carrot) got plenty of exercize that night. I can’t say
that I’ve QUIT dipping- I now think it’s more of a lifetime struggle
against temptation, but it’s been a couple more months now and so far,
so good. At least I have my loving wife there to “encourage” me when I
need it!
Here’s a fun entry to the ‘I Broke my New Year’s Resolution’ story contest. My thanks again to the author (and all the rest!) for contributing.
– Dana
Followed by twenty-four strokes with the ferocious three-tail leather strap.
He was left writhing and moaning by the time it was over, and it’ll be a couple days before he thinks of touching anyone’s backside but his own!
Readers,
I received so many wonderful original story entries in the ‘I Broke my New Year’s Resolution’ writing contest that it was even more difficult than ever to decide on only one winner. Another very worthy entry is the untitled story below…yet another reason to stick to your commitments. I know you’ll enjoy it..
– Dana
Readers,
Although I sometimes get a little ‘behind’, there are lots of people and places on the web who I try to visit on a regular basis.
These are all folks who, in their own corners of the web, are working for a more familiar, cohesive internet spanking community. Some are new friends, and some are famous (infamous?), and I am grateful for each and every one of them.
Spanky at Bright Bottom chronicles his (M/F) spanko relationship with much humor.
Ken and Cora at Spanked by my Lady are now making videos! (F/M, FLDD)
– Miss Elsa Svenson’s Spanking Board, an active, free-to-join discussion board(U.K.)
The lovely Ms. Erica Scott – take a look at her new spankinglibrary.com store (M/F)
Mr. Marks at Secret Spanko has an interesting perspective on the spanking lifestyle. (F/M, M/F)
Michael at Disciplined Behaviour writes beautifully. (M/F)
Red Rump and his fantastic artwork will impress you. I promise.
Cane Master and Cane Mistress at Cane-iac.com – these two are wonderful, real-life spanking enthusiasts with a serious knack for woodworking.
Pandora Blake’s blog, and Dreams of Spanking website are both beautiful and intelligent. (M/F, F/M, M/M, F/F)
Bonnie at Bottom Smarts. In a word: comprehensive.
There are so many creative spanko sorts out there – feel free to tell us about other great sites/blogs out there (including yours!), in the comment box below.
– Dana
Another fine entry to the ‘I Broke my New Year’s Resolution’ spanking story contest, “The Predicament” is so well-written, you’d think it actually happened exactly this way. (In reality, he has less than one week left to maintain his weight goal, and I am confident that he will.) Enjoy!
– Dana
|
The ‘I Broke my New Year’s Resolution’ story writing contest was another opportunity for our UK Laureate to showcase his talent. I think you’ll agree that he’s outdone himself, once again..
Click for More from UK Laureate
Readers,
My oft-postponed Clips4Sale store is now live, and I’m pretty pleased with it thus far. Take a look:
You’ll notice many of the videos which have been viewable here on my blogsite, now available for download.
I will also begin adding premium videos exclusively to the clips4sale store, with previews and still photos here free, naturally.
” IT : A POV Lesson in Marital Obedience ” will be the first premium spanking video release, and I am hoping that those who watch it enjoy it as much as I did making it. Look for ‘IT’ later this week.
As always, I am interested in your feedback, so feel free to leave your comments below, or email me at:
DanaKaneSpanks@gmail.com
– Dana
Readers,
Another example of the great stories submitted by you, this same-named entry to the ‘I Broke my New Year’s Resolution’ spanking story contest is a cautionary tale in overspending. My thanks to the author, and all the rest. Enjoy!
– Dana
I made a resolution to improve my finances. You see, I tend to make mistakes that do not help my finances. First of all, I do not balance my checkbook. Once I make a deposit, I glance at the receipt, and that’s all I do.
Second, I tend to put almost everything on my credit card. That has worked well in the past, but I have only paid the minimum payment, and now I am near my credit limit.
Also, I like buying the new gadgets all of the time. It makes me feel good to have all of the newest and greatest stuff. This way I can be very proud and show my new gadgets to my friends.
I do have a good job I like doing, but I tend to live from paycheck to paycheck. So with the New Year coming up, I have just found out my credit cards are maxed out, and I have very little in the bank. My resolution is to balance my checkbook and to pay down my credit cards.
Everything worked well until the third week in January when a new model of a phone came out. I went to the cellphone store to buy it, and I got a surprise. When I went to pay for it, all three of my credit cards were declined. Next I tried to pay for it with a check, and my check didn’t go thru. The store also had a payment plan, and I filled out an instant application. To my surprise, that was declined too. I guess with my credit cards maxed out, they made my credit rating very low.
Then what did me in, was the next day, I got a notice in the mail from my bank, saying I was overdrawn. Now I was desperate. What was I going to do?
So I called a helpline center, and talked to them about what I could do. Since I had no money and I needed a lot of help, they recommended I talk to a special type of financial planner and bankruptcy attorney. They gave me her phone number and told me I should make an appointment as soon as possible.
When I called her, she had a very soothing calm voice and she told me that she could still work with me, although I had no money. The first appointment would be in two parts. First part, a full evaluation and accountability of my situation, and the second part would be a partial resolution of the problem. So I needed to bring in all of my credit card statements, bank statements, plus a projected spending and savings plan.
The first appointment would last about two hours, and then I needed to make a weekly follow-up appointment that would last about one hour. Since I had little or no money, she would expect me to sign papers stating that I would strictly follow her instructions on how to solve my money problems. All of this sounded very good, so I made an appointment with her. I made the appointment for 7 PM, the next evening.
When I arrived at her office, there was a receptionist who I signed in with. See took all of the information that I brought with me and also gave me some papers to fill out and sign. They needed the usual information that included my name, address, etc.
Then there was paper that I found unusual to sign. It stated that I would follow all orders given to me by counselor, or I would be kicked out of the program. It also stated that I would show up on time for my follow-up appointments, and I would strictly follow what I was told to do by my counselor.
I wasn’t sure about signing it, and I asked the receptionist about it. “If you don’t sign it before you see her, you will not be helped by her. So I suggest you sign it,” the receptionist said.
So I reluctantly signed it and gave all of the papers to the receptionist. She carried the papers into the office of the counselor and closed the door. In a few minutes, a smartly dressed young woman came out of her office.
“You must be Jim. Glad to meet you. My name is Mary,” she said.
“I am glad to meet you too. I hope you can help me.”
“Come into my office with me.” Then Mary told the receptionist, “Jim is my last appointment so you can go home now. Be sure and lock the door.”
Mary’s office looked like any other office with a large wooden desk, with a computer, and many papers on it. There also was a door marked “Resolution Room”, which I wondered about.
The first thing Mary did was to ask for my credit cards and my ATM card, and she cut them up. “You won’t be needing these anymore. Now let’s go over your financial situation.”
After reviewing my budget, my expenses, and my income; Mary decided my best way to handle this would be with a bankruptcy. I would need to live on a cash and/or money order basis for the next two to three months. I agreed and then signed some more papers to start the bankruptcy procedures.
Then Mary said, “Now is the time we need to work on the resolution part of your financial problem. Until you have enough money to pay me for my work, and until this problem is resolved by the bankruptcy court, I want you to report here every week to update me on your financial progress and I will administer some corrective measures to make sure you stay on track.”
“What do you mean by corrective measures?” I asked.
“It involves being scolded and spanked to various degrees. You have already signed the papers agreeing to this punishment,” Mary said.
“I didn’t realize that,” I quickly answered.
“Either you accept your weekly punishment or you owe me five hundred dollars right now and more later, or I will file charges and you will go to jail. It is your choice.”
“ I guess I did sign the papers and I have no money to pay you. So what happens next?” I asked.
“You will follow me into the resolution room where your spankings will take place. I expect you to follow all of my commands and orders, without question. And from now on, refer to me as ‘Mistress Mary’ or just ‘Mistress’. Also answer me with only ‘Yes Mistress’ or ‘No Mistress’. Is that understood?”
“Yes, Mistress,” I said.
“Good, you obey very well.”
We entered the room and I was shocked at what I saw. There were various paddles and spanking implements hanging on the walls. In the middle of the room there was an old-fashioned wooden chair with no arms. There were also other types of wooden furniture that I had never seen before.
Mistress Mary sat on the wooden chair and said, “I will start you out with a hand spanking. Take off all of your clothes, except for your underwear, and neatly fold them and put them in the corner. Then come and stand directly in front of me, with your hands on your head.”
I felt embarrassing taking my clothes off in front of a woman I had just met. As I stood there in front of her, I was surprised again when I felt her fingertips in the waistband of my undershorts.
“Stand still. A spanking is most effective given on the bare skin.” Once my undershorts were at my ankles she said, “Now step out of your undershorts and then bend over my lap so I can spank you.”
I couldn’t believe what was happening to me, but I obeyed her and lay over her lap. Now I was acutely aware of her perfume and body heat. As she grabbed my waist and guided my body closer to hers she said, “When you are spanked by me, always keep your legs parted, no matter what position you are in.”
“Yes Mistress.”
Then she began spanking me. Although she was just using her hand, it really stung my bare bottom. Also, since my legs were apart, her fingers wrapped around the tender insides of my upper thighs, and those spanks I could really feel. Although the spanking stung my bare bottom, I felt a nice warm feeling in my lower body.
After awhile, Mistress Mary said, “Now stand up and follow me to your next part of your spanking.” She led me over to a piece of furniture that looked like a padded sawhorse in the middle. On the sides, there was wood to put your knees and arms on. “I expect you to climb upon or bend over any piece of furniture I direct you to. I will only use restraints if I have to. So get yourself over this with an arm and leg on each side.”
“Yes, Mistress.”
This kept my poor bottom raised up high and my legs spread apart. Now I felt very exposed and vulnerable. Next, Mistress Mary showed me a wooden paddle like what is used in Ping-Pong, and she started spanking me with it. This stung my bottom a lot more than her hand.
“Now I will want to see you every week to make sure you stay on track with your money problems. After a short review, you will be spanked,” she said.
Mistress Mary then showed me a riding crop. “With this, I can make sure I haven’t missed any spots.”
The riding crop was able to spank my upper inner thighs and even between my butt cheeks. Lucky for me, she didn’t use the crop on me for very long.
“Now stand up and walk over here. Do not rub your bottom, until I tell you to.”
She led me over to two old wooden school desks. They were the old type that slanted down. She had me stand near the front of a desk, and bend over it so my head was on the chair next to it, and my hand grabbed both sides of the chair.
Then she showed me an old long wooden paddle with holes in it. I used to see paddles like this hand from my teacher’s desk when I went to school. “This should bring back memories,” she said. “I am only going to give you six swats with this paddle. So don’t move about and keep those legs spread.” This paddle hurt the worst, so far, on my now tender, well-spanked bottom.
After those six swats, she showed me a cane. “For these, I want you to count them out loud, and then say ‘Thank you, Mistress’. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Mistress.” I reluctantly said.
I heard the whooshing of the cane, then the cane whistled, and SWAT! It felt like a hundred bees stung me in a straight line. I stood up and clenched my poor bottom.
“You forgot to count and you stood up, so that will not count. So bend over again.”
“Yes, Mistress. Sorry, Mistress,” I said.
Whistle, Swat! “One. Thank you, Mistress.”
“Good. You are learning to follow my orders,” She said.
Whistle, Swat! “Two. Thank you, Mistress.”
“Only one more, if you stay bent over and count.
Whistle, Swat!
It felt like a hot straight rod on my poor bottom. “Three. Thank you, Mistress.”
“Now you can stand up and rub your bottom. I will expect to see you next week, to see how you are progressing. Nice to meet you and you can get dressed now and leave my office.”
“Thank you, Mistress. I will want to resolve my money issues as soon as possible so I don’t have to see you every week. Thank you for your help,” I said.
Readers,
Here is a whimsical entry to the ‘I Broke my New Year’s Resolution’ spanking story contest. ‘Maybe Later’ is a fun, rhyming verse, all about procrastination.
– Dana
Readers,
Three cheers for this imaginative ‘I Broke my New Year’s Resolution’ spanking story contest entry (with some tiny editing for naughtiness). Get ready to laugh, sweat, and learn a valuable lesson..
– Dana
He stared at the little ad and wondered what it could possibly mean: “Need to lose a few pounds quickly?” it read. He glanced down at his bulging tummy, which was large enough to hide his favorite body part from view, and continued reading. “Attractive female college professor seeking males who have lost their willpower, but not those unwanted pounds, to participate in a special project”. Hmm, I like the attractive female part of it he thought. And if she’s a college prof she may even have a brain, lol. “Interested? Call (543) 772-6533.”
He put the paper down and went straight to the refrigerator. That’s it! A giant Dagwood! 15 minutes later he had constructed the most humongous creation in the new Deli world, loaded with 5 varieties of meats, 3 of fowl, chopped liver, bacon, 4 cheeses, onions, lettuce, mustard and, most importantly, at least a half cup of mayonnaise dripping from every orifice!! He smiled and winked at his masterful, sinful creation. A couple drops of saliva somehow snuck out and hit the plate.
“Wait a second honey, I don’t want you to be all alone, especially with a hot stud like me!” He opened the cupboard and weighed his options (instead of himself). Fritos? Nah, not oily enough. Chips? Too ordinary. And just then, as if it was an out-of-body (more like out-of-mind) experience, the obese, 3-pound jar of Cheese Doodles beckoned. Of course!
But what can I wash this down with — it needs lubrication! Chocolate shake? No I’m gonna hit the Haagen-Daz for dessert. He took the one-liter stein out and placed it in the freezer. The sub was oozing irresistibly now; he couldn’t say no.
He tried to grab the sandwich but it wasn’t going down without a fight. Finally, his efforts paid off and he got a grip on things. He wrestled the monster hero, or at least part of it, into his mouth for chomp #1. Quite a lot of the fixings didn’t quite reach their intended destination but this only increased his lascivious pleasure. He chewed, gulped and wiped the residual scraps on his shirt sleeve. This act was repeated a number of times, interspersed with cheek-expanding handfuls of the doodle thingies (lest we forget).
BELCH! “Ah, life is good!” he said to himself. The beer mug readied, he filled it to the brim and thought how much he loved head.
Some time, lotsa hoagie and suds later, he went into the smallest room of his house to relieve himself from some of his extreme gluttony. He looked into the mirror, a slightly cloudy vision, and studied. Ok, I think that’s enough, maybe I’ll be a good boy and skip the ice cream.
******************************
When he awoke, he felt awful. A hangover, not just the beer, but a food hangover. He went into the bathroom, carefully avoiding the scale. But the mirror was relentless. He felt really bad, like he had just lost a big fight.
The ad was still on his night stand, so he read it again. He tried to dial the number of few times but wimped before the last digit. Back to the bathroom. Summoning some courage he called, hoping to get an answering machine. A slightly sleepy, very sultry voice answered, “Hello?”.
“Um, er.. I saw your ad in.. the paper?” he said.
“Is this call in response to my notice of the research project and weight loss program,” inquired the very sexy voice.
“Um, yes. I’d like to participate, maybe take off a couple of excess pounds [cough].
“Very well. Please understand that this is a research study and that you will be required to meet certain criteria, which will be agreed upon in writing at the time of your participation. Is that quite clear, young man?”
“Why yes, certainly!” (Anything for science).
“Ok, please report to 1540 Smartsville Lane at 11am this morning, and be prompt!”
“Yes, Ma’am!”
He hung up the phone, feeling excited but somewhat apprehensive. “..certain critera.. agreed upon in writing..” Probably just some legal shmeagle requirement.
He showered, shaved, threw on some cologne and dressed in his sportiest, sexiest outfit. “Young, college professor..” I hope she’s a knockout, and maybe I’ll even get laid, if she can see beyond the excess poundage..
(Make sure to click ‘Read More’ below to finish the story. – Dana)
11am, on the dot, he showed. He knocked, and she opened the door. Wearing high heels, a leather miniskirt and a fluffy white blouse showing luscious creamy cleavage, she introduced herself, “I’m Professor LeKane, won’t you please come in”? Completely overwhelmed, he stumbled in and followed, her magnetic rump at the lead.
She grabbed a clipboard off the table and flipped several pages. “Your name?”, she asked. “Nate,” he replied. “Hmm, interesting name,” she responded. “Well, one of my girlfriends nicked me ‘Red’ and somehow or other that stuck too. You can call me whatever you like,” he said with a grin. “Now, Nate, as we discussed,” she said, “here is our agreement. I would suggest that you read it care..” “Oh I’m certain that everything is in order,” he interrupted. Grabbing the clipboard he scribbled on the dotted line and handed it back to her, emphasizing his arrogance with a syrupy wink.
“Very well then,” she sighed. “Kindly remove your clothing.” Wow, this is getting more promising by the second, he thought. He stripped down to his shorts and threw his clothes on the floor. Ms. LeKane cleared her throat and, trying to control her temper said, “Would you mind putting those on the chair?”. “Sure, babe” came the response, as he placed the items on the chair. “And the boxer shorts” she queried, snapping her fingers. “Yes, ma’am,” he said, with some sarcasm and a repeat of that silly wink. He removed his boxer shorts.
Clipboard in hand, she circled him, studying his body carefully. It made him feel rather uncomfortable, like a piece of meat. She pointed to a scale over in the corner. Damn, he thought, it’s the old-fashioned kind, with the weights and the balance thingy — you can’t shift your weight around to get a fake read. Reluctantly, he went over to the scale and she followed him, clipboard at the ready. He hesitated, and she responded with a crisp slap on his left cheek, which, surprisingly, stung a lot. Taken aback, he stepped up onto the scale. She moved the weights around and he prayed, but to no avail. Wow, who would have thought a Dagwood could add 6 pounds? She noted his weight carefully and then pointed at some sort of exercycle — it looked a bit different, more elaborate, than any he had seen before. Knowing that she was in an “all-business” mode, he stepped off the scale and obediently marched to the bike gizmo. For some reason, he felt some pangs of fear. That slap on his left cheek, which he was still feeling, seemed to have a more serious intention.
“Thank you for your cooperation, Red. Now kindly position yourself on this equipment by placing your feet on these pedals and your hands on the grips,” she instructed. He complied with her request. Seeing that his hands and feet were in proper position, she pressed a button on the remote control she held. Suddenly, metal restraint devices locked him into position — he was helpless! “Hey, what the hell is this all about?” he said, in a slightly panicky voice”
“Perhaps next time you will take a moment to read what you sign,” she said, with a mischievous little grin. “Let me start up the machine and, if you will give me your full cooperation, which includes always addressing me as “Ms. LeKane,” I’ll try and brief you during the process. Keep in mind that, in the interest of science, I must stay fully focused on this experiment, which I have been devoting my life to for over 6 months now, and that therefore, I can’t engage in idle banter. Is this understood?” She started up the machine and his legs started moving; they didn’t really have any choice.
“Um.. er.. I guess so,” he said compliantly.
“Yes, Ms. LeKane,” she inquired?
“Yes, Ms. LeKane,” he mimicked.
“Very well. Before I begin the first phase of my procedure, which I must conduct without interruption, allow me to tell you the good news.” She turned up the machine a bit now and his legs actually had to do some work. “You will be receiving $50 cash at the end of this session. It’s part of my grant allocation. Oh, I almost forgot,” she exclaimed.
“What, you forgot to get me out of this thing?” he said in a somewhat harsh voice.
“Red.. Nate.. or however you envision your identity,:” she said in exasperation, “please do not say things to anger me. I’m conducting scientific research and can NOT respond in anger.”
“Sorry,” he blurted sheepishly.
“Sorry, Ms. LeKane?” came her response.
“Sorry, Ms. LeKane,” he submitted.
She went over to some stereo equipment. The exercycle kept Nate’s legs moving, his bottom cheeks shifting from side to side, while Ms. LeKane put on some soft music. It sounded like one of those classical composers, maybe Bach? Then she opened up the cabinet.
My oh my! Nate glanced over and his mouth fell wide open. Hairbrushes, paddles, crops, whips, straps and a number of items that he couldn’t identify.
She grabbed her trusty clipboard again, came over to Nate, and turned the machine up another notch. Nate was breathing harder now and she made a note of that. Then she positioned herself alongside him and started slapping his bum cheeks, in rhythm to the music. Left, right, left right… she was catching each cheek as it relaxed, and Nate began feeling the effects immediately. “Ouch!” he declared. But the slapping, or its intensity, didn’t stop. “That hurts, Ms. LeKane,” but she continued.. left, right, left.. Just when it got to the point where he was really beginning to wonder if he could take any more she stopped, and made some more notes.
He began to wonder what he had gotten himself into. Those weren’t love pats. It certainly seemed that this wasn’t the first time this woman had delivered a spanking. “Wow, you hit awfully hard.. for a girl,” he said. Ms. LeKane ignored the remark and kept penciling away on that damn clipboard. Another 50 spanks followed. He winced, squirmed and complained but the nasty slaps just continued to irritate his buttocks. Another respite while she jotted away. He felt so embarrassed, helplessly in bondage on this weird machine, being spanked hard by this gorgeous woman and reduced to a naughty, naughty boy, with an ass that was burning.
“Ok, we’re done?” he asked. No response.
She turned the machine up a little higher and delivered another volley of stingers. He wasn’t counting any more. Some tears began welling up as he tried to remain stoic. Suddenly, she turned off the machine. It’s over, thank God, he thought. More scribbling. She examined his tushy carefully, kneading it like dough, patting it, massaging it, doing who knows what with her hands and fingernails.
“The first portion of my experiment is completed,” announced Ms. LeKane. Noticing that he was sweating, and breathing heavily, she said, “I’ll get you a glass of water.” Marching out of the room, his eyes again glued to that magnetic buttocks, he sighed with some relief. She had left the clipboard within plain view and he glanced at it. At the top, it read:
“THE BACON PROJECT:
Behavioral Application, Conditioning and Ontological Neoscience.”
He had no idea what that meant. Scanning some of the verbiage he noticed references to Pavlov, B.F. Skinner, and other names with which he was unfamiliar. Ms. LeKane came back into the room with a glass of ice water. She released one of his hands from its metal restraint and handed him the water. It tasted very good, and his sore bottom appreciated the respite. Noting that the metal restraints had caused some slight bruising she went over to the cabinet and took out some soft leather cuffs and rope She toweled off some of his sweat and then secured his free hand with the leather cuff and rope, right back on that dreaded machine. She did the same with his other hand, made some notes and said, “Ok Mr. Red, we’re ready for Part 2.”
******************************
She turned on the machine, cranking it a little higher and making Nate move more than he had in about a decade. He felt embarrassed about his fatty flesh bouncing around, especially his rear end. Ms. LeKane made more notes and waltzed over to the cabinet. When she returned she had two whips, one looked like a riding crop, not really for horses, with a nasty loop on the end, and the other, some sort of buggy whip.
“I’m going to take this machine up to your maximum safety level and encourage you to move with this crop of mine.” She swished it thru the air 3 or 4 times. Nate cringed. The machine was cranked up. The music she had put on had a dance like rhythm and the swishes coincided with it. Now they landed, left.. right.. left.. right.. After about 15 seconds he began pleading, “please Ms. LeKane, you’re really hurting me!” But she ignored his pleas, concentrating on covering every square inch of the area of his buttocks, from the “sit spot” to the area where it meets the thigh. She continued relentlessly, for two minutes (glancing at her watch) and then stopped. He was begging now. “Please, please Ms. LeKane, does this experiment have to hurt so much?”
She slowed the machine to a walking pace and stood right in front of him. “When you read the agreement you signed,” she stated calmly, “you will see that you have empowered me to inflict pain levels necessary for this project. The contract includes that I must not do anything to cause any permanent damage, and that evidence of what I do shall not be apparent by the time you have your next session, should you choose to do so. And the good news, is that you will be paid $100 cash for that 2nd session. Are we clear, Mr. Red Nate?”
“Yeah, I guess so..” he said.
“Ok. Now I could use a little respite and you could probably use one also.” That said, she went over to the CDs and popped on Led Zepp’s “Black Dog”. Grabbing the buggy whip, she started dancing, her drop-dead bod gyrating and undulating, “Hey, hey, mama, said the way you move, Gonna make you sweat, gonna make you groove..” Brandishing the nasty whip , she punctuated her bumps and grinds with short, supple wrist flicks that sizzled through the air. She was driving him crazy and when she lifted her arms high in the air he was transfixed by the patches of sweat that appeared at her underarms. What a dance — And what a woman!
She slowly danced twoards him. “Swish” went the buggy whip, leaving a thin red stripe. “Ah, ah, child, way you shake that thing, Gonna make you burn, gonna make you sting.” She spun around, removing her blouse. He fell in love. Moving in and out she swished away, making thin lines all over him. It hurt like hell but he was way too intoxicated with her to protest. On and on the song went, with intermissions while she danced away followed by more evil cuts from the buggy whip. Eventually, his rump resembled some kind of bizarre peppermint candy.
When the song ended she was sweating heavily, breathing hard. She released Nate, and he crumpled down onto the floor. “Need a woman gonna hold my hand, tell me no lies, make me a happy man“. She turned off the music and got them both tall ice waters and sat down next to him. “This is going even better than I expected,” she exclaimed.
“I’m so happy,” he said. “Anything for science!” “Are we done?” he queried.
“No, just taking a breather before the last phase of today’s experiment.”
His eyes moved to the glistening sweat on her cleavage. “Nate, look me in the eyes. Resist your animal urges for once, please,” she implored. He did as she asked, but gazing into her adorable eyes seem to have the opposite effect of what she was requesting.
“Ok, last phase,” she announced.
“Red.. I want you to get back onto this special cycle but I don’t want to restrain you. I need for you to cooperate voluntarily.”
How could he resist anything she asked for. “Ok, Ms. LeKane”.
He did as he was told and she continued taking notes. She went over to the cabinet, pulled out a fur blindfold and gently placed it on him.
He felt the machine moving now, his upper body bending over and his flanks being raised up into the air. He felt so vulnerable, his tushy right there, all stretched out. He was worried. “Try and relax as much as possible darling,” she cooed in his ear. “It will be less painful and I won’t risk breaking some of my equipment,” she added.
Again, he did as he was told.
“Now Nate, I want you to breathe deeply and try to tell me what you smell,” she asked.
“hmm, that smell.. it smells like some kind of underarm odor,” he said quizzically. (Oddly, he really liked that smell).
“Very good, that’s what it is and it’s from my underarms,” she announced. “Your olfactory system is working well. Now let’s proceed with the next step.”
She placed something in front of Nate’s nose. He sniffed. “Bacon?” he guessed. “That’s correct. Bacon is not bad for you but it’s very dense in calories.” Suddenly he felt something rather cold and very hard being held against his lower butt cheeks. “This is a heavy, dense wood paddle,” she explained. W-H-A-C-K, and he practically hit the roof. “Man, I ain’t gonna be able to sit for a week!” he exclaimed. She had hit dead center and low (a beautifully-delivered smack).
“Did you understand what I just said about the bacon, Nate?”
“Yes I did,” he responded.
W-H-A-C-K a perfect repeat! “YEOWEE,” yelled Nate. Tears started welling up again.
“Where’s the Ms. LeKane, Nate”?
“Ms. LeKane” he blurted, trying to hide the tears from her.
He heard the rustling of paper and opening of a jar.
“Open your mouth, please” she said.
He opened and she placed something in his mouth. “Mmm, that’s a Cheez Doodle with mayo, right,” he asked.
“Correct. Again, something high in calories, but this time less dense. I’ve chosen my newly-acquired tawse to make my point. Don’t be fooled by foods that taste light, but are loaded with calories,” she instructed.
SWISH/SMACK.. SWISH/SMACK.. SWISH/SMACK SWISH/SMACK.. went her tawse. Another “YEOWEE,” went Nate. Wow, that one hurt. He couldn’t decide which implement was worse, only that they were different. But he knew he had reached his limit.
“Please, please [sob] Ms. LeKane, can we finish this yet?”
“All right, Mr. Red Nate, you’ve been a terrific subject,” said Ms. LeKane. She pressed some buttons on the remote and the machine eased him into a standing position. He rubbed his buttocks to attempt to get rid of the horrible fire she had inflicted on his bottom. Then she threw her arms around him. (She made a mental note to herself about tawses that need to be broken in..).
She whispered in his ear: “Nate, you are a very very naughty boy, and you know it.” He nodded. “And what happens to very naughty boys, Nate?” “They get spanked, Ms. LeKane, spanked hard,” he said. “That’s right. And for the final phase of today’s session, I’m going to take you over my knee and do just that. I’m going to do what your mom should have, not in anger, but out of concern for your well-being.”
“And just to make it more poignant, look what we have here,” she added, as she took out a plate full of sliced carrots, celery, tomatoes and several other veggies.
“Now take this plate and set it down to the right of that straight-backed chair,” she ordered. “Yes, Ms. LeKane,” came the conditioned response, now automatic.
Ms. LeKane positioned herself on the chair and pointed to her lap. Nate came forward and climbed over it, his eyes gazing at the vegetable platter, his mind realizing that Ms. LeKane is a lefty.
The spanks began, each one beautifully delivered, using a whippy wrist motion that only a seasoned spanker can execute well, and covering all of the areas nicely, evenly. It hurt his already sore tush but nothing like the implements. He went into a reverie for the next 5 minutes or so until the excellent spanking came to a conclusion.
“You may get dressed now, Nate,” said Ms. LeKane.
He got up, tried to keep himself “together” after this whole experience, an absolute flood of emotions and sensations engulfed him. He dressed himself, regretting that he hadn’t folded his clothes neatly.
“Oh, lest I forget,” said Ms. LeKane, “here is your $50,” and she handed him a crisp bill. “I want you to give yourself a little time to process this experience, and if you choose to continue in the project, give me a call. Your next session will pay $100 and, if you haven’t lost any weight, you will get a very mild spanking. If you can manage to lose 3 lbs or more, you will get a little more than you got today, and you will have a chance to meet some of the other characters you saw in the cabinet. Understood?”
He looked her straight in the eyes and said, “understood, Ms. LeKane, and thank you.”
She gave him a little kiss on the cheek, opened the door and he exited. He don’t know whether he walked to his car or not, since it felt more like floating.
She locked the door, jotted a few final things on the clipboard, carefully cleaned the thick wood paddle, tawse, crop and buggy whip with Sporicidin and drew a bath for herself. She put the Bach CD back on.
She felt quite exhausted but completely exhilarated at the same time. The water was perfect and she guided her gorgeous body into the tub, leaned back. With her eyes closed she envisioned all the wonderful marks she had inflicted, heard his pleas and smiled. In the distance, she heard the phone ring, and Nate’s voice. ***
We are off to an excellent start to 2012, with the fantastic story entries from the ‘I Broke my New Year’s Resolution’ writing contest. This one, titled ‘New Year’s Resolutions and the Consequences of Failure’ is an educated take on FLDD relationships, and accountability. Enjoy!
– Dana
This month’s spanking story contest, ‘I Broke my New Year’s Resolution’, was one of the most fun yet. Many thanks to the entrants, who have outdone themselves this time around.
It seems inevitable, looking at the numbers, that most of us will break our resolutions (again) this year – and there also seems to be no shortage of spankos who are willing to offer their bottoms up in trade for sticking to their plans. The lengths that these writers go to in order to see themselves properly disciplined for their expected offenses are quite impressive, and I think you’ll agree that each of them should know better next year.
Quite honestly, winners are getting harder and harder to choose. Those of you who’ve endeavored to commit the time and effort to these contests continue to bowl me over…my sincerest gratitude to each of you. I do hope that every one of you one day brings home the ‘prize’.
This month’s winner, whom I’ll call ‘E’, will receive his spanking for a job very well done on “Write What You Know”. This story is exactly what we’ve come to recognize from our spanko authors – a wonderfully-written story with relatable characters and absolutely fantastic spanking suspense.
Don’t read this one in a hurry…it’s too good to rush.
– Dana